Marry Me: a Wedding Romance Duet

by Samantha Chase

  Deanna stared at Rose and then at Kelly and then her grandmother.

  “Think about it,” Rose added.

  “That’s what I was trying to say all along,” Kelly said. “Not that he’s changed, necessarily. Just that he wasn’t who everyone always thought he was. Even who he thought he was.”

  “But…” Deanna couldn’t finish as she thought through what had been said and whether or not it could be true.

  He’d agreed to ending their marriage, and he wasn’t acting like he was really into her the way he had before, so it was hard to know whether to feel hopeful or not.

  But maybe—just maybe—she was allowed to feel a little hope. Not all the way. She really didn’t want to be any more foolish than she’d already been, but still…

  Perhaps a marriage of more than six months wasn’t quite as impossible as she’d always assumed.

  She glanced back at her grandmother and blinked in surprise.

  The old woman’s eyes were still closed, but on her face was the slightest hint of a smile.

  ***

  Mitchell glanced at the clock. It was almost ten o’clock, and Deanna still wasn’t home.

  She’d gone out to eat with her sisters since Rose’s employer was getting back in town the following day so Rose would have to go back to work.

  Deanna had said he could come along if he wanted, but he’d refused since it felt like he’d be intruding on sister time and he was trying very hard not to be too pushy or intrusive with her.

  Now he was regretting his restraint. He hadn’t seen Deanna all day since he’d had an early meeting and had been gone before she got up.

  He saw her little enough as it was now—sometimes just an hour or two a day—and he couldn’t help but begrudge anything that stole the time he might otherwise have with her.

  Instead of stewing on his complaints, he tried to focus on his task. It was detail work, and his hands were big and not particularly delicate.

  He looked down at the beads and suddenly felt like an idiot. What the hell was he doing, anyway? He wasn’t doing a very good job. Deanna would probably have to completely redo it. She would laugh at him for thinking this was an appropriate project for him to tackle.

  But he had gotten it in his head a few weeks ago, after they’d agreed to try to be friends, and now that he’d started, he wasn’t going to stop.

  It was taking forever though. He didn’t know how Deanna had patience to work with these tiny beads all the time. He’d been working tonight for an hour on it, and his fingertips were almost numb and his eyes were glazing over. He pressed on, however.

  It was going to take a really long time to get this done, and he only had just over a month left to go.

  When he heard a car approaching the house, he put the work down and then tucked the supplies in a big drawer so Deanna wouldn’t happen to see it. She was never in his room now anyway, but still… she definitely couldn’t see this until he was finished.

  Shaking himself off, he walked downstairs just as Deanna was coming in through the front door.

  She smiled at him. “Hey, you.”

  “Hi.” His instinct was to reach out for her since she looked so pretty and flushed and feminine and his. But he resisted the urge and instead asked, “How was dinner?”

  “It was good,” she said, dropping her purse on the floor and staring down at it. “It was really, really good.”

  He chuckled. “Did you maybe have a couple of drinks?”

  “Just a few.”

  Laughing, he picked up her purse from the floor and put it on the table where she always kept it. “Good. You should have a good time more often.”

  “I did have a good time.” She was smiling at him, almost tenderly, and she reached out to grab his shirt and pull him closer to her. “I missed you.” She wrapped her arms around his middle.

  He returned the hug. He couldn’t help it. He wanted so much to hold her, and this was one of his few opportunities. “I missed you too,” he murmured.

  “I’ve only been gone a few hours.”

  “Well, you said you missed me.”

  “I’ve missed you for the past few weeks.”

  He sighed, a feeling of pleased understanding spreading out through his chest. “I’ve missed you too,” he admitted.

  She pressed her cheek against his shirt and squeezed her arms around him. He held her, fighting the almost irresistible impulse to tilt her head up so he could kiss her.

  He could probably seduce her tonight. She’d had a little too much to drink. Her resistance was lowered. It probably wouldn’t be hard to get her back into his bed, exactly where he wanted her.

  But he wasn’t going to take advantage of her, and that wasn’t what he really wanted anyway. He wanted her heart—not just her body—and there were no shortcuts to that.

  “Do you think people can change, Mitchell?” she asked, still wrapped up in his arms.

  It felt like his heart stopped beating for a minute. “Yes,” he said slowly. “Not always and not easily, but I think it’s possible.”

  “I want to change.”

  “What do you want to change, baby?”

  She didn’t answer immediately. “I don’t always want to hold on so tightly.”

  He knew exactly what she was talking about. She was referring back to their previous conversations. She’d lived her life holding on tightly to the edges of her world to keep it all from falling apart. It kept her from taking risks, from making herself vulnerable.

  It kept her from giving herself to him—even just for a moment.

  Breathless now, he murmured, “Just say the word, baby, and I’ll help you let go.”

  He waited to see if she would say it, but the silence stretched on so long that he knew tonight wasn’t the night.

  The night might never come, but it was definitely not tonight.

  “Thank you,” she mumbled, her face now pressed into his shirt.

  He kissed the top of her head. “Anytime.”

  ***

  “You’re kidding!” Rose said, her voice breathless on the phone. “I can’t believe the six months are actually over and you guys still haven’t managed to get it together.”

  Deanna sighed over the blackberry crumble she was preparing. “I keep telling you that there’s only a small chance of something happening. We are who we are, and we’re as different as night and day.”

  “Yeah, but I think that actually works for you two. And I keep telling you that nothing is going to happen unless you actually say something. He needs to know you want something more.”

  Deanna’s belly twisted with nerves. She’d been thinking it over for the past few weeks, and she’d almost come to a decision about it. Now that her time was up, she had no choice but to act or to give up completely. “I know.”

  Rose gasped on the other end of the call. “Really? You’re going to say something?”

  “I think so. We’re having dinner tonight—just a quiet dinner for our last evening of the six months—so I thought I’d say something then. I’m just trying to figure out… it’s hard, you know. Not just because it’s… it’s not something I do but because he’s been acting so standoffish lately. I’m not sure if he’s even interested anymore—even for now, much less forever.”

  “Of course he’s interested. I thought you told him he had to back off.”

  “I did. I mean, we agreed. But he seems to be getting more standoffish as the weeks go by, so I’m just not sure anymore. Anyway, I think I’d better say something or I’ll spend the rest of my life wishing I did.”

  “That’s for sure.”

  “I’m just trying to think of a way to get him to loosen up again. He hasn’t even been acting like himself lately. It’s like… I don’t know. I almost want him to blow up, just so he’ll be himself again.”

  “So do something to make him mad.”

  Deanna giggled. “You should have seen how mad he was after we pulled the curtain back to show him the Pride that first
day. He was sneezing his head off and totally shocked, but he was so mad when he could finally—” She broke off, suddenly hit with a crazy, brilliant idea.

  “What?” Rose asked. “What just happened?”

  “I’ve got an idea. Oh, I don’t know if I should do it or not.”

  “The answer is yes. If you’re not sure, then the answer is definitely yet. This is your last chance!”

  “Right.” Deanna’s head was whirling, and her heart was racing in excitement. It was crazy. It was foolish. It was absolutely ridiculous.

  But she was definitely going to do it.

  ***

  Mitchell came home from work a little late, and he was quiet and polite when he finally did. He complimented the food she’d prepared, and he told her she looked very pretty—she’d dressed in a cotton sundress with a little white sweater over it—and he made pleasant conversation about their days and about her grandmother and about his sister and about how his mother was coming up in two weeks to visit the Darlington Café, which was about to reopen under his management.

  But it didn’t feel at all like him.

  She was getting worried since it felt almost like he was going through the motions. Maybe he was now looking forward to being done with their marriage. Maybe all of what she’d sensed in him—depth and feeling and growing determination—had faded away as the weeks passed on.

  It didn’t matter. She was going to do this. She had no choice now since everything was prepared.

  So, when they finished the main course, she said with a smile, “I made dessert. I thought we might eat it in the TV room if that’s okay. We could watch a movie or something.”

  “Sure,” he said with a smile. “Sounds good.”

  She went to the kitchen to get the blackberry crumble and ice cream, and when she carried the two bowls into the other room, she saw he’d lit a few candles and turned on music.

  She blinked at him in surprise, although the ambience was very nice.

  Just as she was carrying the bowls over to him, he gave a dramatic sneeze.

  “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “That was very attractive, wasn’t it?”

  She giggled, feeling another surge of excitement since it seemed to be on his mind that he wanted to be attractive for her.

  “That looks really good,” he said, taking one of the bowls. “I suppose you want to eat on the floor, don’t you?”

  “Sure. If you don’t mind.”

  They lowered themselves to the floor and started to eat. Two bites in, Mitchell sneezed again. And three bites later, he sneezed once more.

  “What the hell?” he asked, wiping his nose with a napkin. “You didn’t decide to buy a cat or something, did you?”

  “Of course not.” She kept her eyes wide and her face perfectly composed, but he must have seen something in her expression because he looked at her suspiciously.

  “What’s going on?” he demanded.

  “Nothing. What do you mean?”

  “I mean you look—” The words broke off with another sneeze. “What the hell did you do?”

  “I didn’t do anything. Maybe you should open a window and get some fresh air.” She thought she did a really good job of acting innocent, but Mitchell clearly wasn’t convinced.

  The sneezing was getting out of control though, so he hauled himself to his feet and went to open the blackout shades that covered the windows.

  He roared in surprised shock when the shades revealed four members of the Pride perched there on the wide ledge in all their tattered feline glory.

  Deanna covered her mouth with her hand and tried not to laugh out loud.

  He whirled around and glared at her, but the effect was marred by two more sneezes.

  “I thought you might want something to remember me by,” she told him, her eyes still wide and innocent, “so I talked Grandmama into sacrificing these four.”

  “Why…” A sneeze. “Why… why… why…” Another sneeze. He mopped at his face.

  “I was kind of hoping you’d get mad at me and act normal again,” she admitted.

  “What?” His expression had changed, even through the twisting of his allergy attack.

  “I wanted you to act more like yourself. All your gentlemanly civility for the past few weeks has been kind of freaking me out. I missed the real Mitchell, so I thought the Pride might help to resurrect him.”

  He stared at her, his eyes watering helplessly, but something had definitely transformed on his face.

  Then, to her surprise, he whirled around and left the room.

  Maybe he was really mad. Maybe he hadn’t truly understood what she was trying to say, trying to do. Or maybe the allergy was simply too much. It was kind of mean, after all.

  She went over to the dead cats, who had fulfilled their strange duty admirably, and was about to box them up and move them out of the house, when Mitchell returned.

  He carried a box wrapped up in silver paper.

  “What is that?” she asked.

  He opened his mouth to answer, but a sneeze came out instead. He just handed the box to her, nodding in its general vicinity.

  She understood this meant she should open it, so she did.

  Under the paper was a white box, and she lifted the lid to reveal some tissue paper and then something that made her gasp audibly.

  It was beaded fabric. All her favorite beads—the ones she’d been collecting but never doing anything with, the ones she’s been gathering for years.

  She stared down, mesmerized by the textured beauty of the colors and shine.

  Finally, she lifted it out and saw it wasn’t just a clutch or a bag. It was a wall hanging, exactly as she’d envisioned. A large one, using all the beads.

  Her eyes burned as she stared at it, as she realized how incredibly long it must have taken to make it.

  “It’s not…” He sneezed and wiped at his face. “It’s not perfect. You can redo it if you want.”

  She was choking now on rising emotion. “I’m not going to redo it! You did this for… for me?”

  “Of course for you. You said it was too much work just for you to keep it. You thought you weren’t worth it. I wanted to show you that you are. I know it’s…” He turned away to sneeze a couple of times. “I know it’s kind of cheesy, but it was just an idea I had. It’s okay if you—”

  Deanna burst into tears.

  She carefully put the beaded fabric down in the box and then threw herself into Mitchell’s arms.

  He wrapped his arms around her tightly, but since she was crying and he was sneezing, it wasn’t exactly the most romantic of embraces.

  “Okay,” he said, pulling away, his face flushed and his eyes still watering. “We’re going to do it all here in the sight of the Pride since that was what you wanted.”

  He fumbled until he found her hand, and then he lifted it to hold it in his. He gently pulled off her rings, separating out her engagement ring and then sliding it into his pocket. When he pulled his hand back out, he was holding a different ring instead.

  It was beautifully engraved gold with a lovely diamond setting. It looked like an antique—full of history and meaning that spanned generations.

  He slid the new ring on her finger with her wedding ring.

  “I never should have given you that other ring,” he said. “It was wrong. It was empty. It wasn’t like you at all.” He sniffed and paused, like he would sneeze, but he didn’t. “I love you, Deanna Beaufort Graves. I love you with everything I have in me to love—which is so much more than I ever knew before I met you. I don’t want to take the easy route with you. I want to do the hardest thing, the most beautiful thing. I want to work as hard as we need to work to get this right. I’ll be as patient as you need me to be. I’ll wait as long as you need me to wait. But I’m not going to give up on this, because I know it’s the right thing for both of us. I think you know it too. I understand why you didn’t trust me before, but as soon as you do, I hope you’ll let go. I promise I’ll be ther
e to catch you when you do.”

  He broke off with a huge sneeze that jarred both of them.

  “Damn it,” he muttered. “I almost got through the whole speech.”

  She burst into laughter and tears at the same time and grabbed him in another hug, this time pressing kisses all over his face. “I love you too. I was going to tell you tonight too after I loosened you up with the Pride. I know there are no guarantees in love, in marriage, in life, in anything. But I want you anyway. I want you all the way. I want you exactly as you are.”

  Mitchell made a rough sound in his throat and grabbed her face in a deep kiss. She kissed him back, eagerly, her arms wrapping around his neck, until he had to break away to sneeze again.

  “Okay,” he said. “Either we go or the Pride goes.”

  “The Pride can go,” she said, filled with so much joy she knew it was it spilling out of her somehow. “They’ve done their job.”

  “Just don’t tell your grandmother. I’ll never hear the end of it if she knows that her dead cats had any hand in getting us together.”

  Deanna giggled. “Too late. She already knows.”

  Epilogue

  Deanna fumbled to the door of their bedroom, trying unsuccessfully to open it. Mitchell had her pressed up against the door, kissing her as if his life depended on it.

  She was so turned on that it felt like hers might depend on it too.

  He’d lifted one of her thighs and was holding it up next to his leg, spreading her open just enough for her to feel the pressure of his body against her arousal. She moaned, still scrabbling to turn the doorknob.

  When it finally turned, it surprised her, and she gasped as the door started to open.

  It evidently surprised Mitchell too since he briefly lost his balance, and they started to fall backward as the door opened into the room.

  He caught them before there was a disaster, dropping her thigh and grabbing her with both arms to stabilize her. Then he was kissing her again, walking them back toward the bed.

  He was hard and hot and eager, and nothing had ever felt so good. He was all there—all of him—and all of him was completely into her.