Three Down the Aisle

by Sherryl Woods

  He yanked on his shirt and buttoned it all the way to his neck as if that might prevent her from getting any wild ideas about dragging it right back off him. Then he spent another ten minutes getting his hormones and his wayward thoughts under control before he followed.

  En route to the house, he gave himself a very stern lecture on what was not going to happen. Whatever Melanie’s agenda, he was going to sit across from her at the kitchen table and keep his damn hands to himself. He was going to listen politely, nod when it was called for, then hightail it out of there at the first opportunity.

  Inside, he found her pacing. She frowned at him as if he were unexpected and as if he’d caught her doing something vaguely compromising.

  “Sit down,” she said at last.

  She took her own place at the table. Ignoring the full glass of iced tea in front of her, she folded her hands primly on top of the scarred table, her expression troubled. His tea was waiting for him in front of the seat next to her.

  Mike snagged the glass and moved to the opposite end of the table, grateful that it was one of those oval things with a leaf inserted. That ought to be sufficient distance to keep him on his best behavior.

  Her brow rose at his actions, but she didn’t comment. Instead, she met his gaze and asked, “What are we going to do about this?”

  Mike tried to pretend he didn’t have a clue what she meant. “This?”

  “Us. The kissing.”

  Curiosity and that flustered expression on her face got the better of him. “What do you want to do about it?”

  “It needs to stop,” she said at once.

  “Which isn’t exactly an answer to the question I asked, is it? Do you want it to stop?”

  Temper flashed in her eyes. “What am I supposed to say to that? If I say yes, you’ll call me a liar, since it’s obvious I’m as much into it as you are. If I say no, then I’m opening myself up to something I don’t want to happen.”

  He gave her a quizzical look. “In other words, the kissing is okay, but what you really want to stop is anything more? Am I interpreting what you said accurately?” He really needed to be very clear, because one tiny miscue and they’d both wind up in bed…in flames.

  “Why are you making this so difficult?” she asked with a trace of annoyance. “We’re adults. We should be able to decide in a perfectly rational way to quit playing dangerous games. We both know this can’t go anywhere. You have your reasons. I have mine. They’re all valid. Let’s stop tempting fate.”

  Mike couldn’t help it, he had to ask. He was a man, after all. “Then you are tempted?”

  “Oh, don’t be an idiot,” she snapped. “You know I am, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  “What would we be doing?” Mike asked. He was fascinated with the way her mind worked. She’d obviously given this a lot of thought since coming inside. He wondered if her thoughts had paralleled his own. He wondered if she was having half as much difficulty as he was listening to her head, rather than her hormones.

  “I’d have slapped you out there and put an end to any more wild ideas about you kissing me,” she insisted, though not very forcefully. She didn’t sound as if she believed it for a minute.

  “So, instead you’re going to talk it to death,” he concluded. “Maybe get a written agreement, spelling out the parameters for all future contact?”

  She sighed, her cheeks flushed. “When you say it like that, it sounds absurd.”

  “It is absurd. I think we can control ourselves. I think we can prevent anything from happening that we don’t want to have happen.”

  “In a perfect world, yes, we could,” she agreed.

  Mike finally caught on to what was really worrying her. “But you’re just a little bit afraid that this isn’t a perfect world,” he suggested. “You’re worried that one of these days one of us will snap and lose our heads, and all these good intentions will go flying out the window.”

  “Exactly.”

  “That could happen even if we put the rules in writing and have them notarized,” he informed her. “You know what they say about the road to hell.”

  “Yeah, that it’s paved with good intentions. Okay, bottom line, I don’t want this to get any more complicated than it already is.” She leveled a look straight into his eyes. “I’m trusting you to see that it doesn’t.”

  Mike stared at her. Well, hell. His intentions were every bit as solid as hers, but that didn’t mean he was a saint. “You probably shouldn’t do that.”

  “Well, I do,” she insisted, looking pleased with herself. “Let’s get back to work.”

  She was up and out the door before Mike could gather his composure, much less his thoughts. The naive woman had just dumped all responsibility for whatever happened between them from here on out on his shoulders. She’d planted a virtual No Trespassing sign in front of her and expected him to honor it. If she’d wanted to fill his head with nonstop schemes for getting around such a thing, she couldn’t have done a more effective job. Getting her into bed was just about the only thought dancing around in his brain. It was crowding out all the sane, rational reasons for keeping his distance. It was nudging aside all of his rules for keeping his life uncomplicated.

  Oh, he was going to sleep with her. No question about it.

  And then he was going to hate himself for letting it happen.

  Melanie was rather proud of herself. For once she’d taken the initiative, laid all her cards on the table and told a man exactly what she wanted—or in this case, what she didn’t want. Mike had seemed a little startled by her honesty, but in the end he was bound to admire a woman who knew her own mind. And of course he was bound to be grateful that she’d set ground rules that would keep things from getting complicated for either one of them.

  Of course, that analysis didn’t explain why he was watching her as warily as someone keeping a close eye on a snake that was coiled to strike. In fact, he seemed downright edgy, when the exact opposite should have been the case. He should be relieved.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked eventually, poised at the edge of the pile of topsoil, rake in hand.

  “Nothing,” he said grimly.

  “Then why do you keep looking at me like that?”

  “Like what?”

  “As if I’m some strange species you’ve never encountered before.”

  He chuckled. “You’re a female. That’s strange enough. Men far wiser than I have spent entire lifetimes trying to figure you out.”

  “There’s no need to be insulting.”

  “Actually I find the way your mind works rather intriguing.”

  “Oh? In what way?”

  He shook his head. “You really don’t have a clue, do you?”

  “About what?”

  “That now that you’ve declared yourself off-limits, all I can think about is how to get around that.”

  She swallowed hard and stared at him. That was definitely not what she’d intended. Or was it? “Are you serious?”

  “Very.”

  “But we just agreed—”

  “Not exactly, darlin’. You reached a conclusion, put me in charge of following the rules, than sashayed away as if there was nothing more to worry about.”

  “Because I trust you.”

  “You shouldn’t. I told you that inside.”

  “But you don’t want to get involved with someone who’s leaving town soon, do you?”

  “No.”

  “And I don’t want to get mixed up in something that could get complicated and messy.”

  “So you say.”

  “Do you doubt me?”

  “Intellectually, I think you believe that.”

  “I do believe it,” she said emphatically.

  “Then you obviously have no idea how men’s minds work. Tell us to stay away and all we want is the opposite.”

  She regarded him incredulously. “But that’s just perverse,” she said.

  “True, but it’s a fact of lif
e.”

  “So now you want to have sex, even though we both know it’s a terrible idea?”

  He grinned. “Pretty much.”

  “It’s not going to happen,” she declared.

  His grin spread. “Is that a challenge? Oh, boy, now you’re really making it interesting.”

  Melanie stared at him, trying to fight the sudden desire to take her rake to him. “You’re just tormenting me,” she accused, aware that now the idea of sex was firmly planted in her head, too. “You’re getting some kind of kick out of watching me squirm.”

  “I think you’ve got that backward. You’re the one doing the tormenting. This is verbal foreplay, darlin’.”

  Shocked that he could have leaped to such a conclusion, she snapped, “Don’t you foreplay me, Mr. Mikelewski. Right this second I wouldn’t get anywhere near you if you were the last man on the planet.”

  He laughed. “Uh-oh, now you’ve done it. You’ve questioned my ability to change your mind.” He took a step toward her. “Want me to see how quickly I can prove you wrong?”

  Melanie backed up, her pulse humming with something that felt a lot more like anticipation than anxiety. Was this the outcome she’d subconsciously been after? Surely not.

  “No, I most certainly do not.” Liar, liar, liar. The voice in her head was raising quite a din.

  His gaze never left her face. “You sure?”

  “Very sure,” she declared, though some traitorous part of her was all but shouting that the opposite was true.

  Mike laid down his rake, his expression suddenly sober. “Think about it, Melanie. Because the next time I come by, we won’t just be talking about this. We’ll be testing all those rules of yours.”

  When he walked right on past her without so much as a casual touch, she stood there trembling, maybe with outrage, more likely with need. Damn, he was right. All this talk had obviously made both of them want the exact opposite of what they knew was sensible.

  “You’re spending a lot of time at the Lindsey cottage lately,” Jeff observed when he and Mike took a break on a job a few days later.

  Since Mike was still wrestling with his conscience over the game he and Melanie were playing, he was in no mood to get drawn into this particular discussion with his best friend. Jeff tended to cut through the crap, and Mike was trying very hard not to be totally honest with himself. He feared if he admitted the truth, he’d be over at that cottage like a shot.

  “The garden’s almost finished,” he said tersely.

  “As if you being there has anything to do with the garden,” Jeff commented dryly.

  “That is my only reason for being there,” Mike insisted.

  “Maybe it started out that way, but something tells me things have changed. What would be so wrong about you getting together with Melanie D’Angelo?”

  “If she were the type to have a casual fling, nothing. But she’s not.”

  “Then have a serious fling with her,” Jeff said reasonably. “You’re long overdue for one. You’re single. She’s single. Maybe it’ll develop into something amazing.”

  “I can’t take that chance,” Mike replied. “I have a daughter to consider, and Melanie’s made it clear she’s going back to Boston.”

  “Change her mind. I notice she hasn’t left yet. Something around here must be interesting enough to keep her right where she is.”

  “She’s on an extended vacation, that’s all.”

  “People fall in love with this area all the time. Her grandmother did. You did. Maybe she will. Give her a reason to stay.”

  “Maybe’s not good enough, not for Jessie,” Mike said, sticking to his guns. “She wants a mom. I don’t want her to get attached to Melanie and have that rug yanked out from under her.”

  “I suppose you have a point,” Jeff conceded. “You do have to consider Jessie.” He gave Mike a sideways glance. “Seems a shame, though. I haven’t seen you this happy since you moved here.”

  “Maybe I’m happy because you actually turned up today with some decent-looking plants,” Mike teased, hoping to divert Jeff’s attention.

  “And maybe pigs fly,” Jeff retorted. “My plants are always excellent, and you know it. Your good mood doesn’t have a damn thing to do with me. It’s all tied up with that woman you claim you’re not the least bit interested in.”

  “I never said I wasn’t interested,” Mike grumbled. “Only that it’s not going to go anywhere.”

  “Seems like a waste not to give it a chance,” Jeff repeated. “Pam says—”

  “Heaven protect me from whatever your wife has to say about my love life.”

  “She says you’re just scared,” Jeff continued doggedly. “I can’t blame you, but you’re letting life pass you by.”

  Mike sighed heavily. “Yeah, it seems that way to me, too.”

  He didn’t realize he’d muttered the wistful words aloud until he heard Jeff’s hoot and saw the grin spreading across his face.

  “Told you so,” Jeff gloated.

  “Go to hell.”

  “No way, pal. I’m sticking around to watch this one play itself out. It’s the most entertainment I’ve had in years.”

  “Then you must be leading a very dull life.”

  “Not half as dull as yours before you met Melanie,” Jeff reminded him. “Something you ought to consider when Jessie’s in bed tonight and you’re staring at the TV with nothing but a beer for company.”

  Unfortunately, Mike had spent several nights just like that lately. Jeff was right. His life was boring. Melanie D’Angelo could change that. He just had to figure out if it was worth the risk.

  He thought of the way she’d felt when she was in his arms, of the need that thundered through him. It was pretty damn irresistible, all right.

  If only he understood what was holding Melanie back, if only she would open up to him about her past, maybe then he’d know if the pleasures outweighed the risks. Until that time, he needed to proceed with caution.

  Chapter Nine

  Melanie stared at the tuna on rye on her plate, trying to figure out how anyone could manage to screw up such a basic sandwich. It had so much mayo and sweet relish in it, it was virtually impossible to taste the tuna. She couldn’t help but wonder if this was yet another of Brenda’s attempts to discourage her from coming into the café, or even from staying in town.

  She was trying to work up some enthusiasm for finishing the tasteless sandwich when an unfamiliar man slid into the booth opposite her.

  “Hey,” he said with an engaging grin. “You’re Melanie D’Angelo, right?”

  She was still getting used to the fact that no one in this small town thought twice about approaching a stranger. If this man hadn’t been wearing a wedding ring in plain sight, she would have worried he was hitting on her, but there was nothing but simple friendliness in his demeanor. She nodded.

  “Thought so. I’m Jeff Clayborne, a friend of Mike’s. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  Clayborne? That was the name of the nursery they’d gone to. And this was Mike’s friend. She couldn’t help wondering how Mike had explained their relationship.

  “Oh? What exactly does Mike say about me?” she said just to see what sort of response it would elicit.

  He grinned, evidently responding to the edginess she hadn’t been able to disguise. “No need to panic. It’s all been good. That’s why it’s been so intriguing.”

  She wasn’t sure what to say to that.

  Jeff wasn’t the least bit put off by her silence. He gave her an intense look. “So, I was wondering if you’d like to come to dinner at our house one night. My wife’s dying to meet you.”

  She stared at him blankly. “Why?”

  “Because you’re the first woman Mike’s ever shown the slightest interest in,” he said candidly.

  “So she wants to check me out,” Melanie concluded. “Why don’t you just tell her she has nothing to worry about. Nothing’s going on between Mike and me.”

  Jeff re
garded her with barely suppressed amusement.

  Melanie frowned at his blatantly skeptical reaction. “Why is that funny?”

  “Because you’re both in denial.”

  “I’m not denying anything,” Melanie responded halfheartedly. “Mike took an interest in my grandmother’s garden. That’s it.”

  “Really?” Jeff said, still not bothering to hide his skepticism.

  “Yes, really,” she replied.

  “Mike’s been driving past that house every day since he moved to town. If he was so fascinated by the garden, why didn’t he do something about it before?” Jeff challenged.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe he has a thing about trespassing,” she suggested sarcastically.

  He laughed again. “That’s one possibility. Personally, I think my explanation makes more sense.”

  A shadow fell over the table. “What explanation is that?” Mike inquired, his voice chilly.

  Melanie’s gaze snapped up to meet his. She glanced toward Jeff. She noticed that there wasn’t the slightest hint of guilt in his expression at having been caught meddling in his friend’s personal life.

  Mike slid into the booth next to her and scowled at Jeff. “Well?”

  “I was just inviting Melanie to dinner at the house one night,” Jeff said easily, ignoring Mike’s question.

  “Really? Did she accept?”

  “Nope. As a matter of fact, she turned me down.”

  Mike nodded approvingly. “Smart woman.”

  “Well, I guess I’ll leave you two alone,” Jeff said. He winked at Melanie. “If you change your mind about dinner—or about anything else—let us know.”

  “I won’t change my mind,” Melanie said with less confidence than she might have if Mike’s thigh hadn’t been pressed to hers. It was just about all she could think about.

  When Jeff was gone, Mike scooted away from her as if the contact was too much for him, too. “I’m sorry if he made you uncomfortable. He and Pam have become good friends since I moved here. They think that gives them the right to poke around in my personal life.”