Finally A Bride: A Valentine's Day Romance

by Colleen Charles

  Despite his low, easy breaths, his fingertips suddenly twine with mine. “Are you okay, gorgeous girl?”

  “Totally fine.” The lie slips from my lips with too much ease, but the truth stalls in my throat. I don’t want to sleep. Because then I would miss too many moments of gazing on the man I love. I don’t want this perfect night to end. I want to relish every single second and burn the memories on my mind, so they never fade.

  Knight shifts, scrunching his pillow under my head so we share the same space. Even in the inky darkness, I feel the weight of his gaze. “I’m really happy I found you, Angelica. You’re amazing.”

  “Not amazing. Just ordinary.”

  He snorts. “Ordinary doesn’t turn a man to a blazing inferno of heat. You made me totally lose my shit.”

  I gently caress the inside of his wrist, the glow from his words winding through my body. “I lost my shit a little bit too.”

  “A little?”

  “Maybe a lot.” The strength of his gaze sends a blush of heat to my cheeks. I search for something more mundane to talk about. “Are you hungry? You skipped supper.”

  As if on cue, his stomach lets out a little Hilda-like roar. “Starving.”

  Of course the man is starving… he’s the size of a tree. “Let me heat up some pot roast and potatoes and carrots. I’m not sure if the rolls will still be soft enough, but I’ll check.” As I stammer, I pull back the duvet and rummage around on the floor for my shirt. It’s long and can make sure I stay decent until I can find my robe. I’m still not confident enough to waltz around my bedroom naked with Knight’s hot gaze following my every move.

  His hand finds mine again and yanks me back down. “Angelica, I’m not hungry for pot roast.”

  My eyes find his. “How about a turkey sandwich? I have deli slices and cheese.”

  “No sandwiches. I’m only hungry for one thing.”

  “What?” I ask, trying to wrestle myself away from him so I can head to the kitchen and see what else might work to ease his weird cravings. “I’m not sure what else I have.”

  But he pounces before I even have the chance. His mouth finds mine, seeking everything I have to give. “Food can wait. Everything I need is right here.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Knight

  As I watch that heart-shaped rump fly around the kitchen, the only thing I can think of is scooping Angelica back up and taking her back to the bedroom for round three.

  “I hope you like pancakes,” she says, wielding her spatula. “I made a double batch.”

  My neglected stomach gives another low growl. “I love pancakes.”

  She sets down my plate with a grin. Pancakes practically overflow the entire surface, piled high in a stack worthy of a king. “You’re easy to please, Knight. But then again, you haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon.”

  “I could eat the proverbial horse.” After the first bite, I moan low in my throat. The woman can cook. And I’m a man who likes to eat, so her efforts are not lost on me. Despite the perfection of the fluffy circles, a bit of acid swirls around in my stomach, ruining my true enjoyment of Angelica taking care of me.

  Carrying the glass coffee pot, Angelica brings napkins and bourbon aged maple syrup to the table. It’s early. Too damn early. The sun is just starting to peak over the horizon from my view out the kitchen window. I hoped Angelica would sleep in – due to my worshipping her body all night long, I know she needs more sleep. But she jumped out of bed the moment I left it to shower. When I dressed and made my way to the kitchen, Angelica was already cooking breakfast.

  She looks incredible.

  Flushed cheeks.

  That freshly fucked look.

  Mine.

  As I stare, I notice something I don’t like. There’s a distance lingering in the depths of her expressive eyes. Guilt slithers up my spine, biting me and letting its venom loose inside my heart. Because I caused it.

  Never mind how consumed Angelica was last night. Seducing her was probably a mistake. A scrumptious mistake, but I shouldn’t have done it. In the heat of the moment, she succumbed to being swept away, but I know better. My gorgeous girl only gains confidence one way, the hard way, by facing her demons and making it to the other side. Forcing the issue stole away those opportunities. I should have waited for her to come to me.

  But I didn’t.

  And now the guilt flows over me like a tsunami ready to sweep me away on the strength of it.

  Her lower lip trembles. “You’re not eating.”

  Dammit. Things are shaky enough without her thinking her food isn’t delicious. I take a heaping bite of pancakes and chew. “I am now.”

  “How was Hilda yesterday?” she asks, eying me with that unsure gaze.

  I take a sip of coffee. “Still limping, but she’s going to be just fine. She’s a fighter.”

  I want to believe it’s a good sign that we’re sitting at the table, sharing breakfast, chatting about Hilda as if we didn’t have the most amazing sex of my life last night. Yet here we are, acting as if this isn’t the morning after. We’re acting as if we’ve been married for years, all easy and connected. And I like it.

  Probably more than I should.

  Part of me hoped that making love to my Angelica would be a bigger deal. More dramatic. I was kind of been looking forward to butterflies and awkwardness and sexy blushes. But instead, I’m getting direct eye contact and flirty grins.

  And those comfortable, natural smiles are enough to terrify me, because I’m not sure they’re real.

  “The kits are huge now. You’re going to move them soon, aren’t you,” Angelica asks.

  She gives me a sliver to worm my way through in my quest for a future with her and I grab it with both hands. “I was thinking about a week or so. I got permission to drive them to the Boundary Waters and settle them there for a few days. Have you ever been?”

  She shakes her head. “Nope. I’m not strong enough to carry a canoe for miles.”

  “That’s called portaging. Not all trips through the Boundary Waters require it. And

  I think you’d find it beautiful even without a canoe.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  Despite the curiosity in her expression, in the space of a heartbeat, the walls have come up again. I can’t even imagine an August heat wave melting that ice behind her eyes, as if hearing about my goals for the kits are interesting but so far removed from her reality, she can’t really digest them.

  I try again. “Along the border, the winters are cold and long. Plenty of time for candle making. I really think you would love it there.”

  “I’d love to see it.” The instant I empty my plate, she rises and brings the dishes to the sink. “What time are you meeting the sheriff today?”

  “Around noon. He wants me to come to his office.” The acid in my stomach eats away at the lining. I never resented my animals before today. Never had cause to, but I don’t want to leave things like this.

  So up in the air.

  If I could, I’d sweep her into my arms and take her back to bed. There wasn’t any distance between us last night. When I stare at her, it’s like I’m looking at the other half of me.

  She glances at the digital clock on the stove. “Damn, you really need to get going then so you don’t keep the sheriff waiting.”

  “Yup,” I say, standing. I grab my Carhartt off the oak coat rack. A shiver of unease starts in my chest and uncurls into my limbs over the way she wants to get rid of me.

  “Knight… please be careful. I don’t like thinking about this lunatic that went after Hilda. A man who’s not afraid of a bear isn’t afraid of anything.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve dealt with asshats like this my entire adult life.”

  “I know you can handle yourself, it’s just…” She puts a hand on my forearm. Everywhere she touches I tingle. “Just please be extra careful for me. You didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  I tuck a tendril of hair behin
d her ear. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. In fact, I wouldn’t have slept at all if you would have let me.”

  A blush steals into her cheeks and for an instant, I see it. Her emotion. Her love. But before I can commit it to memory, she drops her gaze and shuts me out again. “My mind keeps drifting back to high school for some strange reason.”

  Why would anyone want to go there except for quarterbacks and cheerleaders stuck in their glory days? “Why?”

  Her gaze points toward the window, distant and melancholy. “I was sixteen. It was my very first date. I’d spent all day at the mall with my best friend picking out the perfect outfit. I was just sure he was the one, you know?” Angelica kept her tone light and breezy, inviting me to share the ridiculousness of teenage fantasies. “Mr. Perfect had a bet with the chess club how fast he could get into my pants. The chess club. Like even the geeky guys think with their dicks and not their heads. At the time, I had no idea. I couldn’t even fathom that he wanted to take me out for nefarious reasons. I had puppy love in my eyes, blinding me to reality.”

  My hand reaches toward her but then falls back down at my side when she doesn’t make eye contact. “I think we’ve all been there, gorgeous girl. Puppy love is just that.”

  She pauses. Apparently, she wants me to agree with her being naïve and oblivious, but I’m hardly going to judge her for a teenage rite of passage. I wonder why she rides herself so hard for life experiences. They’re not mistakes at all, but she sees it that way for some crazy reason. My mind drifts to ‘Mr. Perfect’ and yearns to throat punch him because that was probably the first point in Angelica’s life where she lost that youthful innocence and natural trust. And every single man since the man-boy who bet on her virginity has been paying the price for his douchery.

  Including me.

  But I know that she has no reason to tell me this story unless the pain runs deep, and it means something to her. “I would never hurt you like that, Angelica. I’m not saying I won’t ever be an idiot, but I would never, ever hurt you deliberately. I’m not that guy.”

  Her hands fly through the air and then land on her throat as if she can protect herself from all of the assholes past. “I was just trying to tell you that when I was younger, I used to see the good in people. And because of it, I misread their intentions and I got burned. Big time. So, I guess I’m saying that I don’t think anything about last night other than that I had a great time and I hope you did too. I don’t expect you to love me, Knight.”

  I close my eyes and count to ten. “Do you think I said that just to get in your pants? Jesus. Angelica, I’m in love with you. Last night damn well meant something to me and it better have meant something to you.”

  The corners of her mouth tug upward, but the smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “I love you, too, Knight.” Then she raises up on the balls of her feet and plants a gentle kiss on my lips. The way you would kiss your dad or your motherfucking little brother. Even your dog. Not the way you kiss your lover. There’s love and there’s love. And she’s kissing me like she doesn’t hold me accountable for my words.

  She kisses me like I’m a liar she’s placating.

  Irritation coils inside me and threatens to snap like a wire pulled too tight. I want her to take me to task – to ask for promises and futures. I want her to never settle for a world without me in it.

  I respect that Angelica needs more time. Time to process and realize the depth and truth of her feelings. But I’m running out of that precious commodity. In a few short weeks, I have to leave Sweetheart Hills for my next assignment. And unless I find some way to convince her to come with me, I’m going to lose the best thing that ever happened to me.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Angelica

  God, I’m such an idiot.

  Days later, I still play the ridiculous conversation with Knight in my mind like a song on repeat as I follow him through the snow. At least I didn’t do anything earth-shattering like throw myself into his strong arms and beg him to take me with him to the border, portage or no portage. And I didn’t do anything mortifying – like cry – even when he talked about walking away.

  His time in Minnesota is finite, I get it. I really, really do. Just like the end point to the kits’ dependence and Hilda’s recovery, there’s an expiration label on our relationship. Fling more like it. I’ve grown since I met him, that I know without a shadow of a doubt.

  I discovered love.

  Real, genuine love.

  Not the love of fantasies or wishful thinking or paper tigers.

  And even though our precious time together is drawing to an end, I’m never, ever going to regret one single moment of the time I spent with Knight Evermore.

  But I can’t go with him. It’s too much too soon.

  “Don’t trail too far behind me,” he says, gesturing with his gloved fingers.

  My eyes drill into his back. “Are you sure you don’t want to tie me to your belt?”

  “Tie you to me?” His deep chuckle echoes through the trees. “Sounds fun.”

  “You were born in the wrong decade. You should time travel back to the fifties when men told women what to do and they actually listened. Times have changed.”

  He swats my arm playfully and forges ahead. “Women also wore dresses with high heeled pumps and had dinner on the table at six. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

  I insisted on tagging along with him on this trip, even though it’s Sunday. I didn’t have to work at Cool Beans today, and my next batch of candles can wait. I’m keeping my mood light for Knight’s sake, but the ache in my heart grows heavier with each minute that ticks by.

  The sands slip through the hourglass bringing me closer to losing him.

  After tonight, there will be no more traipsing through the gorgeous woods to see the kits I’ve come to care about more and more each day.

  Sinister looking clouds dot the sky. Sunset is still an hour or so away, but the evening already promises inclement weather and chilly temps. I perch on a rock and unscrew my thermos, pouring a quick capful of cocoa, while Knight hikes the few feet to the fox hole.

  My company isn’t required, but I’m not sad he didn’t order me to stay home even though snow threatens to ruin everything. I understand that limited human contact is best for the kits, so I’ll just hang back here on my hard seat and watch the man I love doing what he loves while I try to forget what it’s been like to be truly wanted for the first time in my life.

  As expected, the little tyrants pick up our scent and pour through the entrance like furry rivers. My gaze softens as I watch them stumble and play. They’ve grown so much.

  I pull off my mittens and wrap my hands around the thermos, my eyes following Knight with all the emotion sweeping through me. He’s hunkered down, the wind rustling his hair, surrounded by the snarling, playing furballs.

  High on the ridge, beyond the trees, I hear the sound of a branch snapping. I worry about Hilda not being fully healed, so I take off after the noise. Like the kits, I’ve also come to care for the giant bear, and all I want to do is make sure she’s okay while not getting out of shouting distance of Knight just in case.

  I claw my way up the ridge and reach the top heaving lungfuls of breath. No Hilda. But I do see a shadow streak behind the branches of a huge birch tree. Just beyond, I spy a flash of color. A man, wearing camo, and the shine of something metal that he drops while he runs away at a fast clip.

  “Knight!” Terror grips me in its iron fist. Terror that he has a gun and will execute Hilda. Or me.

  I scream for him again, sure the man can hear me. Knight’s not that far away, but neither is the guilty looking asshole making a hasty escape. When I turn to run back and get Knight, I recognize the metal clump in the middle of the forest floor.

  A trap.

  The same kind of cruel and illegal trap that injured Hilda. The image of the beautiful bear a bloody mess dances through my mind, turning my fear to anger in a heartbeat. My glance flies
up. The crashing sounds in the forest are getting closer, not farther away.

  He’s coming after me.

  And he’s a vicious bastard with a weapon – capable of anything!

  As my pulse races, I run toward Knight and safety. I’ve certainly done some stupid things in my life but getting shot by a lunatic isn’t on my bucket list. Like the fresh scent of the pines, I can smell disaster on the wind. He’s going to attack me; maybe even kill me.

  The man lopes through the trees yards from me, then mere feet. There’s only one chance to do anything to stop him. Catapulting myself like a human sling shot, I leap onto his back and start screaming at the top of my lungs. The force doesn’t knock him down, but he starts up a steady stream of curses NSFW. He tries to buck me off, his huge hands clawing at my legs.

  Something niggles at my brain. That voice – the one calling me a see you next Tuesday – I know I’ve heard it before, but I can’t put a face to it.

  My quads seize up from trying to hold on for so long, and I know there’s no way I’m going to bring this guy down. He’s stronger. Bigger. He has a shotgun strapped to his back. At least that gun isn’t an immediate threat to me or Knight, but as he thrashes around, trying to dislodge me, it could end up being so if I fall to the ground. As he bucks me his hardest, my head smacks into a tree trunk.

  I see stars.

  “Jess.” A deep voice cuts through my swirling consciousness. “It’s you, isn’t it?”

  I’d know that timbre anywhere, and I let out an exhale. As long as I don’t stroke out from the head injury, Knight will keep me safe.

  I trust him.

  I trust him.

  Just when I want to give in to the blackness inviting me to sleep, a familiar voice rings out. “Jess, I want you to turn around real slow and set Angelica down on the ground as if she’s the most fragile glass. If she gets hurt while you’re doing it, I’ll cut off your balls with a dull knife and shove them in your mouth.”