Blushing in Boston (At the Altar Book 7)

by Kirsten Osbourne

  Brenda grinned up at him. She stood on tiptoe a little bit to whisper back, "What if I do?"

  Daniel bit back a chuckle. She could hold her own. Hopefully Lachele had found him a woman who could handle herself around him after all.

  Brenda was surprised at how quickly their vows took place. It seemed like her hand had just been placed in his a moment before, when the pastor pronounced them man and wife.

  "I now pronounce you man and wife. Daniel Axford, you may kiss your bride."

  Brenda wondered where she'd heard his name before, but before she could catch on to the thought, he pulled her to him, brushing his lips against hers. Her lips tingled where they touched his. She felt the warmth of his hand at her side, where it rested on her waist. It felt foreign to have him holding her.

  Daniel lifted his head, smiling down at the beauty before him. He wouldn't have to put a bag over her head to father the children he wanted. He couldn't help but wonder why a pretty girl like her had sought out a matchmaker. Most men he knew didn't care about the intelligence of a woman they dated. They just cared if she had a pretty face. She definitely had that.

  Brenda smiled shyly up at him. "There's cake in the fellowship hall." Whether he wanted to stick around or not, she needed a few more minutes in his presence before she could leave.

  He nodded briskly. "I figured there would be. What kind of cake?" He asked as if his presence would be determined by the kind of cake provided.

  "I wasn't sure what you liked, so I had to go with my own tastes. It's a white cake with a cream cheese filling between the layers."

  "Sounds delicious. Are you going to feed it to me with your fingers?"

  Brenda flushed, but she immediately nodded. "I think that's the general idea. No cake smashing in each other's faces. I think that's rude." She could just picture getting mad at him for smearing cake in her face and pushing the entire thing over on him, covering him in white frosting.

  He nodded. "No cake smashing. I got it." He took her hand and put it in the curve of his arm. "Let's go mingle and pretend we want to be here."

  She smiled at that. "Pretend?" Did he really not want to be there?

  He looked down at her skeptically. "Do you like to be the center of attention?"

  "Not particularly. It's expected." She'd never been one to dream of playing princess for a day when she married. So many of her friends had played wedding with sheets on their heads, pretending they were veils, but she had never been one. She'd always chosen to play the bridesmaid. She wanted to be married, but an elopement would have suited her just fine.

  "So we'll go and do what's expected, and then we'll go get to know each other."

  She nodded, walking beside him to the back of the sanctuary. "The fellowship hall is down this way and to the left."

  Following her directions, he walked with her to a room teeming with people. An older couple approached them immediately.

  "Daniel, these are my parents, Brian and Brandi Holt. Mom and Dad, this is Daniel Axford." Brenda wished she knew more about him to tell her parents, but she knew nothing. She thought for a moment about making up an elaborate back story for him, but she knew her parents would just roll their eyes, and Daniel would think she was insane. It was probably best not to start a marriage with your husband thinking you were insane.

  Her father frowned. "Daniel Axford. Where do I know that name from?" He asked as he shook Daniel's hand.

  Daniel smiled. "I'm the founder and CEO of Pixels of Passion, an online dating service."

  Brandi frowned at Daniel. "If you are the founder of the premier online dating site, why did you seek out a matchmaker?"

  "Oh, I don't believe in online dating! I just founded the company."

  "I think of a man who has an online dating company as someone like Hugh Hefner. Do you have girls in skimpy underwear running around your house at all hours of the day and night wearing rabbit ears?" Brian asked.

  "I can't say that I do!" Daniel laughed. "I don't have time for that nonsense. I work twelve to fourteen hours most days." He shook his head at the mental image the other man's words prompted.

  Brenda hoped his long hours at work were a thing of the past. Otherwise, she'd be spending a whole lot of time at home alone. She had a mental image of the title character in Drop Dead Fred scooting around the floor on his back, looking under the mother's dress and saying there were cobwebs. Would that be her in six months?

  Brian frowned. "Hopefully, you'll have time in your busy schedule to get to know your new wife."

  Daniel smiled, refusing to get offended. "Of course I will. It won't be easy, but I'll find the time." He'd find the time to get to know her as well as necessary. He wasn't exactly looking for love.

  There was silence for a minute, and Brandi tried to take everyone's mind off it. "I think it's time to cut the cake!"

  Daniel led Brenda over to where the cake was on the table off to one side of the room. "Do you have any clue how we're supposed to do this?"

  Brenda shrugged. "I've never been married before." Her lack of interest in weddings was showing, but she didn't care. She didn't think he'd think less of her for it.

  "Glad to hear it!"

  She blushed as her eyes met his. "I think you're supposed to put your hand over mine, and we cut through the cake together."

  He moved over behind her, slipping an arm around her waist. She grasped the knife, and he put his hand over hers. He let her guide where the knife would go, and together they cut off a piece of cake. She moved it to a plate, and picked up a small chunk with her fingers.

  Carefully she lifted her fingers to his lips and then fed the cake to him. When she went to pull her hand away, he caught her wrist and licked each of her fingers clean, including her thumb, drawing each finger into his mouth as he sucked the frosting off it.

  Brenda felt the heat rushing to her cheeks. She knew she was bright red. She hated that she blushed so easily, but Daniel seemed to enjoy it.

  He picked up a piece of cake, and fed it to her, looking into her eyes the whole while. She tried to be a lady as she ate the cake from his fingertips. It felt so strange to allow someone else to feed her. She was blushing again when she turned to face everyone watching them.

  The rest of the small reception whizzed by. Brenda was shocked when Daniel suggested it was time to leave. "No one else will leave before we do. It's impolite."

  The wedding had been small, with only about thirty people there. Brenda knew all of them, except his best man, and his best man had left right after the ceremony. "I have my overnight bag in my car."

  "Where do you live?" Daniel couldn't believe he was just now getting around to asking his new wife that.

  "Here in Boston. I work for a large financial firm."

  He wanted to ask her immediately if she was going to keep her job, but he knew that subject was better left for a private time. "Do you want to follow me to my house? Or should we come get your car tomorrow?"

  "Let's ride together," she said softly. She wanted the time with him in the car before they were totally alone. "I'll need to arrange to have my stuff moved to your house soon as well." She already felt an attraction to him, but she needed to know him better first.

  They stopped at her car to get her bag, before heading to his. He looked at the car she drove, shaking his head. He'd have to get her a new one right away. She couldn't drive a bucket of rust. It wouldn't be good for his image.

  He took her bag from her and carried it to his car, enjoying the unseasonably warm fall air. He glanced at her, worried she was cold. Her dress was sleeveless. "Do you need my jacket?" he asked softly.

  Brenda shook her head. "No, this thing is hot." She couldn't wait to get the dress off, so she could turn back into Brenda. Dresses always made her feel as if she was impersonating someone else.

  He opened the trunk of his car to put her bag into it, before turning to her. "You look beautiful today." He touched her cheek softly.

  "What brought that on?" she asked. Alr
eady she'd gotten the impression that he wasn't overly sentimental.

  "Can't a man compliment his bride without being questioned?" he asked with a slight smile. He took a step closer to her, his hand going to the back of her neck, under her hair. "I don't want to get busy later and forget to tell you how gorgeous you look in your wedding dress. Every groom should tell his bride that at least once, right?"

  Brenda smiled, nodding. "Yes, I think it's in the newlywed rulebook." She imagined a big book filled with rules. Each one with minute details explaining exactly how newlyweds should treat one another. If only it really existed.

  Daniel leaned down, brushing her lips with his. "I might just need to see a copy of this rule book to be certain I don't make any rookie mistakes. I've never been married before either."

  Brenda felt a frisson of electricity jolt down her spine at his touch. Dr. Lachele had been right about him being a good match for her physically at least.

  After a moment, he stepped away, moving to open the passenger side door for her. She got into the car, carefully tucking her huge skirt around her. He closed the door when she was settled.

  Hurrying around the car, Daniel got into the driver's side. "Where exactly do you live?" Brenda asked.

  "Weston," he said, naming a city west of Boston known for its wealth.

  Brenda frowned. "Weston? I don't know that I'm allowed to live in Weston." There was no way she belonged in the ultra-rich community. All of the women would look down their noses at her.

  He started the car, pulling out onto the busy street. "Not allowed to live in Weston? Why wouldn't you be?"

  Brenda wasn't sure how to answer that. She'd grown up knowing that only rich people lived in Weston, and she was anything but rich. "I don't know. It just doesn't seem right."

  "You'll get used to it." If he could get used to it after growing up in the slummiest part of Baltimore, she could do it. She was solidly middle-class, and he was from the worst neighborhood he knew of. Her parents would be shocked to know of his upbringing.

  She was sure he was wrong, so she didn't say anything. She stared out the window, becoming more nervous by the minute. What was she thinking marrying an absolute stranger? Was she going to be able to go through with this?

  "What are you thinking?" Daniel asked.

  She shrugged. "I am kind of wondering what I've gotten myself into. It was never in my plans to marry a stranger."

  "Why did you then? Why did you make that phone call to Dr. Lachele?" With as pretty as she was, he couldn't imagine her calling a matchmaker. The very idea was foreign to him.

  Brenda sighed. "A college friend of mine was matched by Dr. Lachele a few months ago. She is happy as can be. Every time we've talked since her marriage, she's encouraged me to call Dr. Lachele as well. She was convinced that it would make me enjoy my job more to be married and that my life would just be better in every way. I hadn't met anyone that I was interested in dating, so I made the call."

  "I can see that."

  "Why did you call her?"

  "Me? I went on a stream of really bad dates. When I couldn't take any more, I finally contacted Dr. Lachele. I want children." He realized his last sentence may seem abrupt to her, but he needed to make her understand what he wanted from their marriage.

  Brenda looked at him with surprise. "You want babies immediately?" She wanted children as well. Badly. Hopefully it would be enough to build their relationship from.

  He nodded. "I want children while I'm still young enough to enjoy them. And I want a whole house full. I can afford them, and I want them."

  "What if I can't have kids?" she asked.

  He looked at her as they stopped at a traffic light. "Do you have reason to believe you can't have children?" Lachele wouldn't have set him up with someone who couldn't have children, would she? She knew that was one of the main reasons he wanted to marry.

  "Not at all. I've just known too many people who thought they'd have all the children they wanted, and then ended up not being able to have any." She shook her head. "I want children. I really don't think I'll have trouble, but I'm preparing for all eventualities."

  He frowned. "I hope not. Truthfully, that's the reason I wanted to marry. I thought about finding someone to play surrogate, but I want my child to have a mother figure in her life."

  Brenda blinked at him a couple of times, surprised that he would admit he'd considered a surrogate. "So really, you don't want a wife. You want a mother for your children."

  Daniel thought about her words for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to explain how he felt. "I do want a wife, because I want my children's mother to be part of their lives. I'm just not sure that I want a wife more than I want children. I'm definitely more interested in children."

  Brenda felt her heart sink. She'd really been hoping that her marriage would end up being a love match just like Michaela's had become. "Does that mean we won't be spending time together? Other than—creating children?"

  He chuckled softly. "Even I know that's not going to fly. We'll spend time together. I want to get to know you." He wanted to assure himself she was intelligent and not psychotic. He wanted smart non-crazy kids.

  Brenda felt relieved, but only a little. "How many children do you want?"

  He turned into his driveway, waiting as the gate's sensor picking up the receptor on his car triggered it to open. "At least three or four. I know it's not really fashionable to want a big family, but I do."

  She stared in disbelief at the huge house in front of them. "Did you have a lot of siblings?"

  "No. And my childhood is off-limits. It's not something we'll ever talk about." His voice was harsh. He knew he was coming across as an ass, but it didn't change his position on the matter. He didn't talk about his childhood with anyone.

  "I see." She didn't, of course, but how else could she respond?

  Three

  Daniel parked his car in the garage, getting out to unlock the door. "I want you to park in the garage when you bring your car here. How long have you had that thing?"

  Brenda blinked. "My car?"

  He looked at her. "What do you think we were talking about?"

  "No idea." She thought about it for a moment. "I bought it used when I graduated from high school. I've only really driven in the summers. I always took the train to school."

  "Where did you go to school?" he asked.

  "New York City. There was never a need for me to have a car at school."

  "I can understand that." He glanced at her as he opened the door and let her inside. "How would you feel if I replaced your car? As a wedding gift?"

  "That's a crazy expensive wedding gift. I don't have anything to give you." Her car wasn't that bad, was it? Compared to the cars in Weston, it probably was.

  He grinned at her, his white teeth flashing. "Sure you do."

  Brenda blushed. "Nice house." She didn't even want to try and imagine what he was talking about. By the look on his face, she knew it was sexual. She didn't need to start blushing any more than she already was.

  "Smooth change of subject there." Daniel decided to let her get away with it. "I have a bit of work to do." He indicated an older woman standing just inside the kitchen. "This is Mrs. Brinkley. She's going to show you around, and I'll meet up with you in a couple of hours at dinner time."

  Brenda frowned. "We haven't even had lunch."

  He looked at Mrs. Brinkley. "I'll need a tray brought up to my office." He kissed Brenda on the cheek. "We'll talk later."

  Brenda watched him as he disappeared down the hallway. She looked at Mrs. Brinkley. "Is he always so abrupt?"

  Mrs. Brinkley nodded. "He's been that way for as long as I've known him. The man loves to work. He has no hobbies and very few close friends. I really hope you'll be good for him."

  "How long have you known him?"

  "Several years. I've been with him since he moved to this house five years ago." Mrs. Brinkley indicated the stove. "I do all the cooking around here. If the
re's something that you particularly enjoy, let me know, otherwise I'll just keep handling the meals like I always have."

  "Is it going to be a problem if I want to cook sometime? I'm sure for the most part I'll be happy not to have to do it, but every once in a while, I do enjoy making a meal."

  "You just let me know when you want to handle a meal, and it's all yours. It would be nice to have a night off every once in a while. You could leave the dishes for me to do the next morning."

  "I'll do that." She looked down at the floor at her small suitcase Daniel had left there. "Would you mind showing me where my room is?" Should she say my room or our room?

  Mrs. Brinkley nodded. "I can finish making lunch after I show you. Follow me." She led Brenda to a staircase and up the stairs. She took a right at the top of the stairs and stopped at the second door on the left. "This is an older house, and it has adjoining bedrooms for the master. For now, I'm putting you in one room, and Daniel has the other."

  Brenda was surprised. With all Daniel's talk about having children right away, she didn't think that he'd want them to have separate rooms. "Thank you." She went into the room, as Mrs. Brinkley returned to the first floor. Looking around, she found she had a private bath. There was also a huge walk-in closet, bigger than her bedroom in her apartment.

  She opened every door. One door led to another bedroom. She was certain the room was Daniel's. Not only was it huge, it was done in dark, masculine colors. The bed was bigger than she'd ever seen. He must've had it specially made, because it was much bigger than a California king. She wanted to stand there for a moment, and take everything in, but she didn't want to be caught there.

  She quickly went back to her own room, and closed the door behind her. It didn't take her long to unpack her small suitcase. She took a quick shower, and changed into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. The weather was in the mid-seventies, and she was going to take advantage of it if she could. She wanted to spend some time exploring outside, and he was locked away working anyway.

  She hurried back downstairs to the kitchen. Mrs. Brinkley was in the process of ladling soup into bowls. "That smells delicious."