Jason was the first to leave the chapel. Nikki had been standing next to Sam, his hand resting on the small of her back, presenting the picture of connubial bliss. The door shut behind Jason, and Sam dropped his hand as if he'd been touching a hot coal. At the same moment, Nikki stepped away, putting distance between them.
"If I'd known he was going to do this, I would have found a way to prevent it," Nikki said, directing her words to no one in particular.
"Things might have been simpler if we'd gone to Vegas." Sam's comment was aimed directly at his bride.
"Some people might think it's perfectly normal to be married by an Elvis impersonator standing under a flashing neon heart, but no one who knows me would ever believe I'd get married that way."
"Since there's no one here but us chickens, I don't see what difference it makes where the damned ceremony is performed. We could have gotten married on top of a flagpole and no one would ever know."
"It's a moot point now," Max said before Nikki could snap out a response. "You're married and Jason has arranged a reception and you're just going to have to make the best of it."
There was a moment's silence while the combatants digested the simple truth of his words. Nikki was the first to speak.
"You're right, Max." She gave him a gracious smile. "We'll just have to make the best of it. Why don't I go with Liz and Bill and show them the way to the restaurant? Perhaps you can do the same for him?"
She nodded her head in the direction of "him" without taking her eyes from Max. In some indefinable way, she managed to imply that Sam would probably need considerable guidance in order to find the restaurant.
Sam ground his teeth together but refrained from comment. He might as well start practicing restraint now. Over the course of the next year, he had the feeling he was going to need a great deal of it.
❧
"If I don't throttle her by the end of the first month, it will be a miracle," Sam said without taking his eyes off the road.
"After tonight, you'll probably barely see each other," Max said soothingly. "Besides, she isn't that bad."
Sam gave him a sour look. "Not if you like a woman with a tongue like a pit viper and a temper like a rabid wolverine."
"You haven't exactly been a picture of sweetness and light," Max pointed out. "I think the two of you are about even at this point." Sam's silence was as good as an admission of guilt. "All you have to do is look happy for a couple more hours and then you two can pretty much go your separate ways for the next year." He gave Sam a sideways glance, his bland look giving way to one of gentle malice. "Besides, a wedding deserves a celebration."
The look Sam shot him made it clear that he wasn't in the mood to appreciate the humor in that remark. "The only thing I'm looking forward to celebrating is my divorce a year from now. I do not see any reason to celebrate this farce of a marriage."
Seeing their exit coming up, he flipped on the turn signal, putting so much force into the simple gesture that Max wouldn't have been surprised to see the lever snap off in his hand. He hid a smile. It wasn't often that he saw Sam Walker with his feathers ruffled.
"Then look at it as a celebration of the fact that Mary will be able to have her surgery.''
"Yeah." Sam rolled that thought around as he guided the Bronco off the freeway. Max was right. He should be thinking of his niece and his brother, of what this marriage would mean to both of them. The fact that he and his new wife got along about as well as the Gingham Dog and the Calico Cat faded into insignificance beside the thought of Mary being able to run and play like other five-year-olds.
"That's something worth celebrating," he conceded grudgingly. "But I still think the idea of all of us going out to dinner together is stupid."
"The two of you are going to be living together for the next year."
"Don't remind me."
"You're bound to share a few meals in that time. You might as well start now."
Sam turned into the parking garage near the restaurant. "I married her. That doesn't mean I have to eat with her."
"I can't imagine how I let Max talk me into this," Nikki said, speaking as much to herself as to Liz and Bill.
"I don't remember seeing any bruises from him twisting your arm," Liz pointed out. She was sitting in the back seat where she could keep an eye on her son. Since Michael was busy orchestrating a ferocious battle between two action figures, she was free to give her attention to her friend in the front seat. "You seemed to think marrying Sam was a good idea."
"I was wrong. It's a crazy idea."
"It's a done deal," Bill said. He glanced in the rearview mirror before changing lanes. "Besides, Sam seems like an okay kind of guy. I thought the whole idea was nuts, but I feel better about it after meeting Sam."
"Me, too," Liz agreed.
"I'm glad you both like him." Ridiculous as it was, Nikki felt a little betrayed by their ready acceptance of Sam. "How would you like to have him living with you for the next year?"
"It won't be so bad. In a house the size of yours, you'll barely know he's there. Besides, you're the one who married him, not me."
"Don't remind me." She was being unreasonable and she knew it. She couldn't blame Liz for not seeing past Sam's ruggedly handsome exterior and charming smile. Not that she thought it was charming. At least, not very. Grudgingly, Nikki admitted that he probably seemed like the embodiment of a woman's dreams—some women's dreams, anyway. Certainly not hers.
"I can't remember the last time Michael took to someone the way he took to Sam," Liz said, determined to point out Sam's attributes. "He really has a way with children."
"It seems that way." Nikki couldn't argue with her there. Sam had developed an immediate rapport with her small godson. Ordinarily, that would have gone a long way to softening her attitude toward the man she'd just married, but she wasn't interested in having her attitude softened. She'd just as soon keep up the mutual dislike they had going. It seemed safer.
"He seems very nice," Liz pointed out ruthlessly.
"Mmm." Nice wasn't exactly the word Nikki would have used. Pushy, annoying, overbearing, maybe. But not nice. She pretended a fascination with the traffic outside the window, hoping Liz would take the hint. She should have known better.
"You've got to admit he's very attractive."
She had no intention of admitting any such thing. "If you like that type, I suppose.''
"You mean the tall, blond, blue-eyed, built-like-a-god type? It is a little pass6, isn't it?"
"Should I be jealous?" Bill asked, frowning at his wife in the rearview mirror.
"Just because I happened to notice that Nikki's new husband is a hunk?"
Nikki only half heard the byplay going on between her friends. They'd just driven into the parking lot of the restaurant and she'd seen Sam and Max standing outside, waiting for them so that they all could enter the restaurant together and Jason wouldn't know the bride and groom had parted immediately after the ceremony. The fact that her heart was suddenly beating much too fast was caused by pure dislike. It had nothing to do with Sam Walker's broad shoulders or his craggy good looks. Liz might be impressed by those things, but she certainly wasn't. Not even a little bit.
Nikki was grateful for the dimness of the parking garage as Bill pulled the car into it. She didn't want Liz's sharp eyes to see the additional color in her cheeks and question the reason for it. Knowing Liz, she'd put some ridiculous interpretation on it and suggest something like Nikki being attracted to her new husband. Which was obviously absurd. Even if she did happen to notice that he was attractive, it was only on a purely intellectual level and certainly wasn't the cause of the sudden fluttery feeling in her stomach.
And no matter what Liz said, this was all Max's fault. It would be a miracle if she made it through the next couple of hours without wringing his neck. Of course, if she was going to commit murder, Sam Walker might be a better target. Then she wouldn't have to worry about how she was going to get through the next year with him
as her husband.
❧
Two hours later, Nikki was no longer worrying about the next twelve months. Her focus had narrowed to the next twelve hours.
Her wedding night.
Throughout dinner, all she'd been able to think about was how much she wished it were over. Sitting in the restaurant, playing at being a happy newlywed, had been sheer torture. She could hardly wait for the meal to be over with so she could go home. It was only when the meal finally ended and everyone was preparing to leave that it hit her that when she went home, she wouldn't be going alone. Liz and Bill had agreed to drive Max home, which meant she was going to be left alone with her new husband.
It had taken considerable effort to refrain from clinging to Liz and begging her friend not to leave her alone with Sam. In the ten minutes since Nikki and her husband had left the restaurant, the silence had reached an almost deafening level. Sam drove with the easy competence she'd expected. She might not like him, but he struck her as the kind of man who did most things well.
She twisted the wedding ring on her finger. The plain gold band felt as if it weighed ten pounds, dragging her hand down. Or was that her conscience feeling the weight of the lies she'd told? Her gaze was compulsively drawn to Sam's hands on the steering wheel of the truck. Light glinted off the wedding ring on his left hand.
"Is the ring too big?"
Nikki jumped. It had been so long since either of them had said anything that the sound of his voice was startling.
"The ring?"
"The one you've been fiddling with ever since we left the restaurant," he clarified.
"No. No, if s fine." She forced her hands to relax. "It just feels odd. I'd forgotten all about rings.. I'm glad you thought of them. It would have looked odd if we hadn't had them."
"Very odd."
Well, that had been an almost pleasant exchange, she thought. A first for the two of them. It had been very thoughtful of him to provide the rings. She touched her ring and frowned. She didn't have the slightest idea how much a police officer was paid, but she seemed to recall hearing that it wasn't all that much. Could he afford these rings? She cleared her throat. "It's a nice ring."
"Glad you like it." He didn't take his eyes off the road.
"I think I should pay you for it."
There was a moment's silence before Sam spoke. "That's not necessary."
Something in his tone suggested that it might be wise to drop the subject, but she chose to ignore it. She didn't like the idea of him buying her a ring. It was too reminiscent of a real marriage. And this marriage wasn't real. Not in any way.
"No, really. If you want to pay for your own ring, that's one thing, but there's no reason for you to spend your own money on a wedding ring for me. If you'll tell me how much they were, then I'll pay half. It's only fair."
"It's not necessary," he said again.
"I insist." She wasn't sure why this had become so important, but it had. "There's no reason for you to buy me a ring."
"You can insist until you turn blue in the face." Sam's tone was soft as silk and sharp as a razor. "I don't want you to pay for the damned ring."
"But this is a business arrangement, and any expenses incurred should be shared."
Sam's hands tightened on the wheel as visions of murder and mayhem danced before his eyes. With an effort, he kept his voice level.
"I appreciate the offer, but—"
"Really, it's a simple matter of good business," Nikki interrupted. "I should have provided my own ring, but since I didn't think of it and you did, that doesn't mean I shouldn't pay my fair share."
"If you don't shut up about the damned ring, I'm going to pull off and dump you in the emergency lane and let you walk the rest of the way.''
His tone was so calm that it took Nikki a moment to realize what he'd said. Shock was followed almost immediately by indignation and anger.
"That caveman attitude may impress some women, Mr. Walker, but I'm not accustomed to being spoken to like that."
"Too bad. It might have improved your disposition."
"There's nothing wrong with my disposition. You're the one with the personality traits of a—a Neanderthal. I can't believe I let Max convince me that this idea would work. I'd rather live on the street than spend the next year married to you."
"It's not my idea of a really fun time, either, honey."
"Don't call me honey."
"Would you prefer Mrs. Walker?"
"What I'd prefer is for you to take a long walk off a short pier," she snapped. She sat back in her seat and threw him a furious look. "And I will pay for the ring!"
Sam's only response was to glance in the rearview mirror as he flipped on the turn signal. Nikki sat in stunned silence as the truck coasted to a stop in the emergency lane.
"You can't stop here. This is for emergencies." It was a weak protest at best.
Sam unbuckled his seat belt and half turned in the seat so that he faced her. "Are you going to shut up about the ring?"
Wide-eyed, she stared at him, trying to read his expression in the dimly lit cab. She couldn't believe he was acting like this. Just because she wanted to pay for her own ring— a perfectly reasonable thing to do. "You wouldn't dare leave me here."
By way of an answer, he leaned toward her. Nikki gasped as she felt his arm brush against her. She pressed her spine so tight to the seat that she practically melted into the upholstery. But Sam simply grabbed hold of the latch and pushed open the door.
The freeway noise immediately rushed in on them, but Nikki was barely aware of it. Her eyes were locked with Sam's in silent battle. There was no softening in his expression. She looked away and unlatched her seat belt. Picking up her purse, she started to slide out of the truck, intending to call his bluff.
She paused. It was awfully dark out there. A tractor trailor roared by, and the truck rocked in its wake. She considered the three-inch heels on her pumps, not exactly the proper footwear for a stroll along the freeway. Of course, he wouldn't really let her walk.
Would he?
Sam waited, wondering what the hell he was going to do if she actually got out. Obviously, he couldn't let her walk to the nearest emergency phone. She wasn't exactly dressed for strolling along the freeway, and it would be just his luck some maniac would get hold of her and then he'd have her murder on his conscience. Besides, if anyone was going to have the pleasure of strangling her, it was going to be him.
He shouldn't have threatened to dump her on the freeway. And her offer to pay for the ring shouldn't have made him so angry. It wasn't even an unreasonable suggestion. It was just something about the way she'd said it, as if she thought he couldn't afford to buy a wedding ring. And the fact that it had taken damn near all of his savings to buy the rings didn't make him feel any more cordial toward her. There was just something about her that got under his skin and touched off his temper in a way he couldn't remember anyone else ever doing.
He waited to see what she was going to do.
Nikki waited for him to tell her he was just kidding. That he had no intention of making her walk. But he didn't say anything. She weighed her pride against her safety. It was a tough choice. Another truck roared by and she tried to imagine what it would be like to be standing beside the road when one of those metal behemoths rushed past.
Without a word, she pulled the door shut and faced forward in her seat. If she hadn't been so angry, she might have noticed Sam's almost silent sigh of relief.
They finished the drive to Nikki's house without another word being spoken between them.
Chapter 5
Sam pushed the restaurant door shut behind him, closing out the cool, damp air. Winter, or what passed for it in Southern California, had arrived abruptly the night before, blowing in with the first storm of the season and drenching the southern half of the state. The rain had tapered off to a miserable drizzle, just enough to make visibility poor and keep the roads slick. Sam spared a moment of gratitude that he wasn't with the
highway patrol. Or driving a tow truck.
Brushing the rain from the shoulders of his denim jacket, he looked around. He'd never been in the Wagon Wheel Caf6 but he'd been in places like it. The decor, if you could call it that, was strictly functional. A black-and-white-tile floor that showed signs of age, faded red vinyl booths and a few dusty plastic plants in pots scattered at random throughout the single room. He didn't have to look at a menu to know that the food would be plainly cooked, plentiful and reasonably priced.
"Find yourself a place and light, sugar. We don't stand on formality here." The woman who spoke was in her fifties. Her hair was a shade of red that owed nothing to nature, but her smile was genuine.
"I'm looking for someone."
"He's in the comer booth," she said immediately. "Said he was meeting his brother." She looked Sam up and down. "There any more like you at home? Maybe a few years older?"
"There's four of us, but I'm the oldest."
She sighed. "Ain't that always the way of it? Either too young or married or both."
Sam's smile lingered as he made his way between the rows of booths to the corner one. Keefe looked up as he stopped beside the table. He smiled, but Sam was shocked by the lines of exhaustion etched around his brother's eyes. Keefe was the younger, though by less than two years. At the moment, he looked ten years older.
"Sam." The single word served as a greeting.
"Keefe." Sam had barely slid into the booth when the red-haired waitress arrived. She set a thick white china mug in front of him and filled it with steaming coffee without asking.
"You two want to look at a menu, or should I tell you what's good?" She topped off Keefe's mug as she spoke.
Sam glanced at Keefe who shrugged indifferently. "What's good?" Sam asked.
"The steak and eggs is about the best thing on the menu, but don't ask for the eggs scrambled. Clive, he thinks a scrambled egg ain't done unless it crunches when you bite down."
A Family Circle 1 - A Very Convenient Marriage Page 5
