Secrets Gone South (Crimson Romance)

by Pace, Alicia Hunter

“I can assure you he is thrilled with it.” She couldn’t help but wonder if anyone would ever again care what would please her. “Mother, will you let me speak to Avery?”

  “Certainly. The men are building a fort with them in the living room. Avery!” she said. “Avery? Darling? Your mama wants to say hi.” It sounded like a whole kindergarten class was there. “Avery, come to Grandma. Mama wants to say hi.” More toddler squeals and child voices. No Avery. Finally, Gail said, “Arabelle, I’m sorry. He’s just too distracted. The Braggs are here so Beau and Lulu are in the mix. I could make him come with me but—”

  “No, no. Don’t do that. Let him play. I’ll call later.”

  “Arabelle. This is your wedding night. I raised you and Luke without incident. We’ve got this. Honey, start your new life with your sweet new husband tonight. You’ll see Avery tomorrow.”

  Not talk to Avery tonight? Unthinkable! “But—”

  “Arabelle, we are so proud of you. I don’t say it enough but I thought it all week. The last few years have been so hard for you. The measure of a woman is taken in hard times and believe me, you measure up. You have no idea.” Oh, she had an idea all right. It was everyone else who had the wrong measuring stick. “Now, go be with Will. I’ll call if the least little thing goes wrong. I promise.”

  What if she said she couldn’t go be with Will because he was looking at tree houses? And that he didn’t really want to be with her?

  What if? But she couldn’t. “Thank you, Mother. I love you. Tell Daddy.”

  “I will. And we’ll see you tomorrow.”

  And she hung up! Her mother hung up on her without saying goodbye!

  It was getting hot in here, thanks to the fire that had not been quite fiery enough to meet Paul Bunyan’s standards. She got up and moved away from the flames—though there was nowhere else to sit except the bed. There wouldn’t be. Where else would inhabitants of a place named the Bride’s Perch want to be, apart from the bed or the loveseat, cuddled together?

  She fanned herself. Damn that mile-high blazing inferno—though being swathed from head to toe in wool was no help. She should change but, besides nightclothes, she only had one clean outfit for the trip home—a cotton sweater and corduroy pants, which wouldn’t be much cooler.

  That brought her back to the nightclothes. Might as well. It was almost dark and they weren’t going anywhere. When she’d packed she hadn’t known what was going to happen, hadn’t even known how she felt about it, so she had hidden the sexy nightgown Lucy had given her in the bottom of her bag—just in case. It was clear that just in case wasn’t going to happen but no matter. She had also packed one of the long flannel gowns that she had practically lived in during the late stages of her pregnancy in Switzerland. Something lighter would be preferable but at least it was cotton and one layer.

  She unzipped the bag. Damn. She had brought the prettiest one—the blue with pin tucks and embroidered lace at the wrists and neck. Too bad she hadn’t brought the one with cartoon skiers. That’s what he deserved. She removed her clothes and slipped the gown over her bra and panties as quickly as she could so he wouldn’t catch her half dressed. Not that he would be back this soon anyway. He was probably climbing trees and knocking on doors. It wouldn’t be good enough for him to see the outside of the tree houses. She laid out her toiletries in the bathroom and neatly folded her clothes and put them in her bag.

  Somewhat cooler, she had just settled back down on the loveseat with the latest copy of American Family Physician when she heard Will approach. And he was talking to someone. Dear Lord. Here she was in her nightgown and he was bringing company!

  She was about to bolt for the bathroom when the door opened. Not company, after all. He was on the phone.

  “Yeah?” he said gently. “You and Jiffy be good boys and mind Grandma and Grandpa and Aunt La—what?” He took the phone away from his ear for a second and gave it a puzzled look.

  He was talking to Avery! Who had let him talk to Avery? Maybe he’d bought him a secret cell phone that only called Daddy. She jumped to her feet and held out her hand for the phone.

  Will gave her a little wave and put the phone back to his ear. “Just threw the phone, huh? I guess he was through.” He laughed “Well, I should go, too. Thank you again for everything. It’s great here. Yes. Yes, sir. I’ll tell her.”

  He smiled like everything in the universe was right. And wasn’t it? He had talked to Avery, when she hadn’t been allowed.

  “You look cute.” Figured. He was the flannel type. “Your dad sends his love. Said to tell you that you looked beautiful today. Which you did.”

  “Daddy called you? And you talked to Avery?”

  “I called him to say thank you for everything and he put Avery on, though he didn’t last long. Not the phone type, I guess.” He poked the fire. “It’s cold out. Still snowing. I might make some coffee. Do you want some? Or hot chocolate?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “Oh, I brought you something.” He reached into his pocket and handed her a smooth white stone. “See?” He turned it in her palm. “It’s almost a heart.”

  And it was—but only almost. If the top right part had been a little rounder, it would have been perfect.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “You’re welcome.” He held her gaze for a second and put his hands together in a little clap. “You had a good idea, getting comfortable. I think I’ll do the same.”

  He swung his duffel onto the bed and, with no modesty whatsoever, stripped down to his boxers right in front of her, talking all the while about the tree houses, how they were all different. He didn’t really know all the architectural styles, but one was Victorian and another looked like a castle. On and on, he went, pulling green plaid flannel sleep pants over his muscled legs until they sat low on his slim hips.

  “I really need to get Brantley up here.” He paused bare-chested and she wondered if he was going to put on a shirt.

  “Why?” she asked to distract herself from his broad shoulders and that tiny column of dark hair that trailed down his stomach into more interesting places.

  “I can build a tree house. I can even design what I want—more or less. But I wouldn’t know how to structure it so it would be safe. I need him to draw the plans.”

  “You’re going to build a tree house?” Why was she not surprised?

  “Well, yeah!” he said like she had asked if he planned to breathe later tonight.

  Finally, he pulled a t-shirt over his head and pushed his hair back. The shirt was tight and the short sleeves did little to conceal his powerful arms.

  “I’m in no real hurry.” He dropped a pod in the coffee maker and put a pottery mug under the spigot. “It’ll be a while before Avery is big enough but wouldn’t it be great for when he’s older? I could maybe even put a catwalk from his window to the door.”

  The horror of the image of Avery skipping gleefully fifty feet in the air was almost impossible to hide but she managed.

  “I don’t think so,” she said. “He might fall. And I don’t like the thought of him having his very own little private den of iniquity.”

  “Ah, where’s your sense of adventure?” He held up his mug. “Sure you don’t want one?” He shuffled through the basket of pods. “There’s tea. Cider. Chai—whatever that is.”

  “Nothing for me, thank you.”

  Then he came over, poked at the fire again, and settled down on the other end of the love seat like he belonged there. If ever there was a man high on his surroundings, it was this one. And his surroundings suited him. He stretched out and propped his long legs on the coffee table, crossing them at the ankles. He looked like an ad for an upscale outdoors catalog.

  “You’ll change your mind about the tree house,” he said. “It’ll be big. We can all sleep out there.” Oh, yes. He’d be king of his castle suspended high in the sky, held there by limbs, luck, and magic. Avery would be the prince and she’d be the lady who gave out spinach and made dental appoint
ments.

  Will inclined his head toward her and smiled. “You’ll like it so much you won’t want to leave it. I’ll put you in a little doctor’s office and you can see patients there.”

  “That’s a thought. Not a good one but a thought.”

  He laughed like she’d made a real joke. She drew her legs up under her.

  He sat up and put his mug on the table. “Look, Arabelle,” he said seriously and put his hand on her shoulder. “I know I’ve been a real bastard to you.”

  She nodded. “I can’t deny it. I can’t deny that I blame you.”

  He shook his head. “No matter what, it’s done. I’m sorry. But we’re married now and we’ve got our amazing boy. I’m ready to put this behind us and move forward. Starting now.”

  Before she had time to think, he took her in his arms and she went back in time—back to the night when she was so heartbroken and confused and his arms had felt like the safest place in the universe. She loved the way he held her cheek when he kissed her—and kissed her, and kissed her …

  A million shooting stars went through her and she wasn’t in the past anymore. She was in the present with the man she’d made a child with and she knew as long as she lived there would never be a connection stronger than that.

  She lost all sense of time and space and anything except his hard body against hers and the desire coursing through her. And there was something else too, something unfamiliar to her that she instinctively understood to be older than time.

  She could love this man.

  “Damned toy couch,” he muttered in her ear. “Damned dinner on its way. And I didn’t think there was anything not to like about this place.”

  This place. Something was wrong and she knew what. He didn’t want her, didn’t want to make love to her. He wanted to make love in this place, this perfect Will Garrett fantasyland. It wouldn’t have mattered who he was with. He even liked her flannel gown because it fit with the place.

  She pushed him away.

  “Will, I cannot.”

  He hesitated but unhanded her and nodded. “I guess I understand that. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it either, even earlier today. But then we got here.” He gestured to the surroundings. “And it just seemed right. But it has to be right for both of us.”

  She nodded. It was never going to be right.

  He laughed a little. “I can’t say I’m happy about it, but we’ll get there. I won’t push you.”

  “Thank you,” she said but she didn’t feel thankful. He wasn’t even going to fight for her, wasn’t going to try to seduce her, convince her she was wrong.

  “It’s fine. We’ll have some dinner and go to bed early. It’s been a long day. It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

  “I can sleep on this toy couch.”

  “Nonsense. We’re married. We’ll share the bed. I will respect your wishes.”

  It would have been nice if he could have pretended that lying next to her would be a temptation too great to resist.

  Happy wedding night.

  He put another log on the fire.

  Chapter Nine

  Where had he gone wrong? Will pondered that the entire trip back to Merritt—not to mention all night. He’d gotten precious little sleep. Every time he started to drift off, Arabelle had moved against him and he’d been right back at square one—aroused with no respite in sight.

  A man could only take so much.

  He’d thought things were going pretty well. He might still have some issues to work out but he didn’t feel so angry anymore. That was a good feeling, like having his real self back. He had not liked the mean things that had come out of his mouth, almost of their own accord, didn’t like knowing he was capable of being so hateful. For certain, living with hostility would not be good for Avery. He knew about that first hand.

  And he had been sure they were making progress. At first, Arabelle had seemed baffled at his change of attitude, but she’d begun to warm up. And she had certainly been hot in his arms, brief though it had been. Then nothing.

  They had chatted little over dinner and even less since. As soon as they’d gotten on the road for home, she’d put her head back and closed her eyes, though he suspected she was only pretending to sleep. He’d stopped at Cracker Barrel for takeout coffee but she hadn’t touched hers.

  But everything would work out. It might take time, but that was fine. He was a tolerant, patient man. His hand was on the mend and Arabelle had said he could get back to work next week. Soon, they would all be settled in his house in the woods. That would help. He would continue to hold on to his true disposition and she would come around. They would put together the family that Avery deserved and they needed.

  He was behind on his obligations and wouldn’t have a lot of time to work on a personal project but he was going to build Avery a “big boy” bed. He didn’t know much about such things but he seemed to be getting a little old for a crib. Maybe he and Arabelle could plan a new room for him together. Yes. That was a great idea—a shared project about something they both cared about.

  “Arabelle,” he said quietly. “We’re almost home.”

  She raised her head and opened her eyes. “I want to go get Avery.”

  So did he. “We’ll go straight to the farm. This is what I thought: after we pick up Avery, you can drop me at my house. I’ll get my truck and meet you back at your place. After being away from Avery, I don’t think we want to spend the rest of the day packing but we can move what the two of you need to get through a day or two. We’ll get the rest later in the week.”

  He couldn’t wait to see some life in that house—toys on the floor, sippy cups in the sink, and all those little feminine perfumes and potions scattered in the bathroom. He wouldn’t even mind the mess, if there was one. Arabelle seemed to be pretty neat, but that had to come off the tracks sometimes. Maybe he’d cook dinner tonight over the fireplace—grilled vegetables and some kind of meat for Avery and Arabelle. He had been so intent on having a grill in the fireplace and he’d never used it once. He’d get them some marshmallows, too. Maybe they could all sit on the rug in front of the fire and after Avery got sleepy he could hold him while Arabelle read him a story. Then they could all go to sleep in the bed where Avery had been conceived, with him between them. Not that they would make a habit of that. Tomorrow he would disassemble the crib and bring it out but for tonight, they could all sleep together. “Would you like steak or chicken for dinner? I’ll run by the store while you get your things together.”

  A moment passed and she almost smiled at him. “There’s no need to pack anything. I’m not moving.”

  “What did you say?” Surely he had not heard her correctly. Still a column of cold shot though his gut. He pulled the car to the side of the road.

  “I am not moving to the woods. I never said I would.”

  “That makes no sense.”

  “It makes plenty of sense. I have moved Avery three times in the past few months. I am not moving him again. As things are now, he doesn’t even have to go outside to go to the sitter. Where we are now is walking distance from almost everywhere I need to go.” She gave him a hard look. “I am not moving.”

  He got the feeling she was enjoying serving up this news to him—news that she knew he would find upsetting.

  “Arabelle, you cannot be serious. We would be on top of each other in that little place and I have all the room in the world.”

  “I guess you should have put that on your list of demands for this marriage. You didn’t. I have a very clear memory of what I agreed to. Should I repeat your demands back to you?”

  Tolerance and patience exited left and died in the wings. And he was glad to see them go. This woman didn’t deserve either one.

  “So you expect me to move to town? Away from my house? Away from my shop?” Away from his woods?

  “I expect it if you want to live with Avery as much as you claim. Wasn’t that the whole point of this marriage?”

  There was so m
uch sarcasm in her voice that he almost got the idea she wanted him to admit he wanted to live with her. It might be true but he’d cut out his tongue before he’d say it, because the anger had returned in full force. And the hell of it was, she knew he wouldn’t refuse. She knew how much he wanted this. She might not know all his reasons but he’d made no secret of how determined he was.

  So there was nothing to say.

  He pulled the car back on the road and drove toward the Avery farm and his boy.

  Arabelle put her head back and closed her eyes.

  Chapter Ten

  Arabelle wanted to bang her head against a wall—if there had been a wall in her car, which there was not. Why had she done that? True, they had never discussed where they would live, but it made sense—for all the reasons he’d given—to live in Will’s house. Truth be told, that’s how she had envisioned it, if she had envisioned anything. She hadn’t even known she was going to say that. But she was feeling robbed of a real wedding night, a real marriage, and any hope of love. And he’d been sitting there so smug about what was going to happen. So she had drawn a line in the sand and now she had to stand behind it.

  He was mad now. Or maybe hurt. Who could tell? Either way, he hadn’t looked at her or spoken a word. Maybe he wouldn’t even move in with them. People would ask questions about why they were living apart. She could just hear Luke now. “You were in such an all fired hurry to get married and now you aren’t even living together!” Maybe no one would notice for a while.

  Will pulled the car into the circle drive in front of the farmhouse.

  Maybe she would apologize. Maybe she would tell him she would move to the woods after all. There was a lot to recommend it—the space, the beauty, the solitude. What did it matter if she had to bring Avery to Heavenly Confections every day before work? She was an early riser. And Will would help. Of all that was wrong with this situation, that much was right.

  She opened her mouth.

  Before she could utter a word, he cut the engine and swung his eyes to meet hers. Those eyes didn’t look so much like warm velvety moss now as cold glinting jade. Her shields went up.