The Marriage Contract Page 13

  She giggled. “You’d last all of five seconds with a dirty diaper.”

  His heart plummeted. “You don’t think I’d make a good father?”

  She silently stared at him, her expression collapsing. He watched her as the flames from the fire danced in her eyes.

  “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things these past few days. Nothing has made any sense. Except when I think of you and me.”

  Cara’s eyes dropped to her hands and she nibbled on her bottom lip. “Us?”

  “Maybe your mother has been seeing something that we’ve been afraid to.”

  “My mother sees a lot of things and I’m afraid of them all,” she said wryly.

  He chuckled, but Cara could tell that there was no humor in the tone. Devin was serious. And she was feeling too good because what he was saying was actually making sense. She tried to imagine her and Devin having a baby, making love...

  But what was she thinking? What was he thinking? That was an undertow that would only serve to destroy their friendship.

  He inched closer and she felt his heat as strong as the flames from the fire, even though they weren’t touching.

  “We’re not kids anymore, Cara. We don’t have to be afraid of what we’re feeling.”

  “You’re delusional,” she sputtered, trying to keep her insides from humming with his nearness. He was joking, right?

  She sat up and straightened her spine, clearing her throat. “I'm involved with Roger,” she said, stating the obvious.

  “Roger's not here, Cara. It's only you and me.”

  Devin stared at her. Hot molten desire simmered in his eyes and set her on fire. Maybe it was the drink, but he was completely transparent now. And he wanted her. She kicked herself for actually liking that fact, liking the way his eyes caressed her. What could she possibly gain by making love with Devin? They were friends. They'd just found each other again after all these years.

  She dragged her gaze away, but not before she saw the hurt register in his eyes. She hadn’t meant to hurt him. After all, they’d had too much to drink and emotions were flying high. Tomorrow morning, well after he dried off this wet night, he’d see that it was just the champagne talking. She wasn’t about to risk losing their friendship over ridiculous talk of marriage and babies with Devin Michaels. Not after they’d just found each other again.

  She sighed, feeling an ache deep inside, an ache of unfulfilled need. When she finally had the courage to look at him again, she saw that his expression had softened.

  “Cara.” His voice floated to her. She could barely hear it over the roar of the incoming tide. But she saw his lips move and knew he had called her name as if she could really hear it. Reaching out, he stroked her bare arm with his fingers, sending a blazing sensation racing through the rest of her body.

  Devin pulled himself from the sand and held his hand out to her. Her head was spinning, but she knew it wasn’t the champagne. Devin was going to kiss her. He knew it and so did she. Taking his hand, she lifted herself from the sand like she was walking on air and fell into his arms, pressing herself against the rock hard wall of his chest. With his arms wrapped around her waist, he felt good, too good for her to muster any resolve to pull away.

  He didn’t kiss her at first. His dark eyes, black from the night and his desire, gazed down at her until she thought he could see the center of her soul. Reaching up, he touched her lips with his fingers, making her shiver with anticipation.

  When his lips finally crushed against hers, it was with a fury that matched the force of the ocean, and she rose to meet that fury head on. His mouth was hot and demanding, tantalizing and delicious. And she wanted all of it. All of him.

  She started to pull away, half wanting to give in to her desire, half wanting to listen to that little voice of reason telling her she was making a mistake. But Devin held her tightly to his chest and in his arms, she gave in to her heart.

  It would be so easy to give in fully. So wonderful to take the very pleasure they both wanted in each other.

  Devin tangled his fingers in her hair and pressed her against his chest. She felt the urgency of his desire hard against her belly. His heart pounded against her ear with each labored breath he took.

  “Devin,” she said, pushing with the palms of her hands flat against his chest. His scent filled her head and belied any strength she thought she had to keep her distance. Catching her breath, she found the strength to take a few steps backward. She held her hand in the air in the hopes that Devin would keep his distance.

  The ocean crashed around them and sounded as thunderous as the hunger that had her on edge, echoing in her head. The crescent moon was a bright line in the sky. What little light it cast was drowned out by the crackling fire.

  What the hell had she done? She was kissing Devin Michaels. And she was loving every second of it! Wanting more of him.

  A strange sense of excitement intermingled with regret gripped her. She’d never felt this way with anyone before, least of all Roger. No one had ever made her head spin or her heart beat like a wild stallion on a run.

  But Devin had.

  “I won’t say I’m sorry for kissing you.” Devin’s voice was rough and sexy, filled with a need she felt.

  “We shouldn’t have done that,” she finally muttered.

  Bruno’s tail slapped on the sand, cutting into her thoughts. She looked at the dog, lazily reclined on the sand next to an empty impression that Devin’s body had made, and imagined her impression right alongside it.

  “You felt that kiss just as much as I did and still do. It was just as powerful as when I kissed you on the carousel that Fourth of July.”

  He took a step closer and reached out to touch her arm, but she pulled away. The pained expression on his face when she did nearly broke her heart.

  She averted her gaze.

  “And it is just as powerful seventeen years later. A flame like this never dies, Cara.”

  She cleared her throat and took a deep breath, hoping to find some strength when she swung around to meet his gaze. But when she did, she realized she’d found none.

  “I can’t do this, Dev.”

  “Why not? You and me-”

  “No!” She held her face in her hands and shook her head. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. All these feelings, whirling around her, completely out of control. She was out of control.

  “Don't you see? We’re drunk, Devin. I won’t risk losing this friendship again because I swallowed too much drink.”

  She had to get out of there. Not just because her whole body was numb from the champagne, but because it wasn’t. She was very much alert and aware of every sensation Devin had managed to bring to life with his kiss. She wanted him, and if she stayed there much longer, she was going to forget her own name and make love to Devin right there under the stars.

  “Don’t run away from me,” he said, his eyes almost pleading with her.

  “I’m not,” she said, picking her white sandals up from the sand. “I’m trying to keep us from making a bigger mistake if I stay. Tomorrow, you’ll see that I’m right.” She only hoped she’d feel that way, too.

  Devin didn’t follow her as she spun around and quickly made her way along the edge of the beach. She blinked hard to see through her tears until she could finally focus on the porch light of her parents’ home. When she did, she began to run.

  Placing one bare foot on the wooden porch step, she glanced up at the window of her brother Manny's room. It was dark. All the windows downstairs were dark, too. The party was over, everyone had gone home, and Roger was fast asleep.

  Yes, she was sure Roger was sleeping like a baby. Unlike Devin, Roger wouldn't feel jealous of her spending time with another man. As she yanked on the screen door, she couldn't help but wonder what, if anything, Roger would have felt if he'd seen that kiss.

  #

  Chapter Ten

  He’d been hit by a train.

  Devin was sure of it as he held his throbb
ing head and fought to pry his eyelids open. It was the only logical reason for his head feeling as though it were crushed like an over-ripe cantaloupe. Not only did he have the lack of brains to polish off the rest of the champagne he and Cara been drinking on the beach, he’d slumped on the sofa with Bruno at his feet and polished off the last of the beer in the fridge. The sledge hammer hitting his skull was punishment for his stupidity.

  Serves him right, going after Cara the way he did in a drunken stupor. How could she take his feelings for her seriously if she thought she was only a drunken roll in the sack? She deserved more than that. So much more than he’d given her last night.

  That kiss. God, it still seared him to the core with its memory. How could he think a passion like that could dissolve with time? It had been like dynamite detonating inside him.

  They’d always been friends as kids. In his memories of her, they'd always maintained that their relationship was based on friendship, even after that one scorching kiss they'd shared.

  Damn, what an idiot he’d been! He’d been deluding himself all this time. If he was at all honest with himself, he’d admit that he wasn’t falling in love with Cara now for the first time. He’d always been in love with her. Except back then, it scared him to death. It still scared him, but it was different. He wasn't a kid trying to take on the world anymore.

  And Cara had grown into an impossibly beautiful, sexy woman.

  He swung his legs off the bed until they hit the floor with a thud. Trying to steady himself, he buried his face in his hands, shielding the light from his eyes. God, his head hurt.

  Damn champagne, damn beer, damn...Roger.

  His already aching gut twisted. He’d never felt this way about any woman he’d been involved with before. He was always much too busy to care whether the relationship lasted beyond being a simple distraction to his work.

  But this wasn’t just any woman. This was Cara. And there were no words to describe what she meant to him.

  Cara had said she wanted to save their friendship. But deep inside, he knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her. They would have made love last night and it would have been wonderful. And instead of waking up with a colossal hangover, he'd be cradling Cara's warm naked body in his arms right now.

  Why was she being so stubborn? Why couldn't he get her to believe that everything about them was a perfect match?

  He couldn’t do this alone. No, he’d have to employ some heavy hitting troops to win this battle. The best in the field. And he knew exactly who to go to for help.

  * * *

  Cara sat on the edge of the bed, still nursing a cup of coffee and hoping the two aspirin she’d taken would hurry up and kick in. “Are you sure you want to leave?”

  “Yes,” was all Roger answered.

  She sighed. She’d hoped that sleep would have changed things for both of them. But it hadn’t. She was glad this week with Roger was over.

  “Don’t be disappointed. We can go to Nantucket another time. Maybe after your parents leave for Florida.” The little snicker in his voice didn’t escape her.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” she shot back defensively.

  “Simply that I think this mood you’ve been in will finally pass after your parents move. That’s all.”

  His explanation did nothing to assuage her irritation. Neither did the aspirin she’d taken a half hour ago.

  “No, it won’t,” she huffed, instantly regretting giving up precious air as the room began to spin. Pressing her fingers to her temples, she added, “And I’m not moody, either.”

  Roger tossed his shaving kit in his suitcase. “Call it what you want, but I’ll be glad when there’s a little distance between you and your family.”

  She glared at him, unable to believe what he’d said.

  Roger cocked his head to one side and smirked. “It’s not like you’ve got the normal, garden variety family, Cara. Even your brother became a priest to escape the wrath of Ruthie Dearest.”

  “He did not!”

  “Let’s face it, most people have parents that play bingo and squawk about their neighbors at the parish hall dance. Your grandmother goes deep sea fishing every chance she gets, your father is relegated to watching the baseball game at the hardware store and your mother has been making baby booties for her grandchildren since you were born.” He laughed and shook his head. “You have to admit it’s a bit odd.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  His eyes flew open wide and he propped his hands on his hips as if in disbelief. “If you have to ask, then you’ve been around their influence too long.”

  Her blood was like ice flowing through her veins. How had she managed to push aside his feelings for her family for so long? Did he really think she thought so little of them like he did? “Their influence is what made me the woman I am today,” she scowled.

  “You’re nothing like your family, I’m happy to say.”

  “I am my family. And I’ll probably cry like a baby on the day that U-haul takes them to Florida.”

  She slammed her coffee mug on the night stand, sloshing liquid over the rim, and knotted her arms across her chest.

  “You’re such a snob, Roger. I can’t believe I never saw this before.”

  “Exactly. And you say you’re not moody?”

  “I’m defensive. And why shouldn’t I be when you talk as if I’ve got The Munsters for a family? I’ll admit that they’re sometimes a bit off-”

  “A bit?” he challenged.

  “But they love each other. They’re committed to each other and they aren’t afraid of that.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? What about us? We’re committed to each other and we don’t act wacko.”

  “Are we?” she asked, deciding to let the wacko comment slide. Given her hangover, she only had so much fight in her and she needed to save it for the important issues.

  His mouth dropped open and he nodded. “So that’s what this is all about. You want a commitment.”

  He smiled, but instead of having its usual effect, Roger just looked smug. And she wanted to wipe that self-righteous smirk right off his face.

  “If you wanted to get married, why didn’t you just say something?” he said. “If you need a piece of paper to prove to yourself and your family how we feel about each other then fine, we’ll get married.”

  Cara couldn’t believe her ears. This was the last thing she wanted. She’d been fighting this demon all week and it still managed to drag her to the ground.

  “I, ah, don’t know.” Did she really need proof that he loved her? She thought back on her behavior these last few days, wanting him to be jealous. She had been acting irrational. She’d tried to reason that she was being overly emotional about her birthday, seeing Devin...

  She’d foolishly thought that Roger would show some kind of emotion, jealousy for her being with Devin. It wasn’t fair of her to want that, but she couldn’t help it. Everything about her relationship with Roger had remained steady. There’d been no surprises, no excitement at all.

  All Devin had to do was look in her direction and the earth seemed to tilt on its axis. Heat flamed her cheeks with the thought of their kiss. It pretty much rocked her world. If she hadn’t had the good sense to leave, Lord only knows what would have happened.

  Her heart pounded in her chest. She knew exactly what would have happened. She and Devin would have made love. And it would have been wonderful. No doubt about it.

  She felt the depression on the bed as Roger sat down next to her. Taking her hand in his, he said, “Why don’t you take some time to think about it.”

  She nodded and glanced quickly at him. Yes, she had a lot of thinking to do. Mostly about what she wanted and where her life was headed. “Yeah, we need some space.”

  * * *

  Devin stood frozen in the middle of the kitchen floor, holding a tea pot filled with boiled water in one mittened hand and a plate of Danish in the other. Devin could hardly believe his ea
rs.

  “Who’s getting married?”

  “You and Cara,” Ruthie announced. She picked up the mug he’d just placed in front of her and dipped her tea bag in the boiling water, bobbing it up and down. “Well don’t act so surprised. It’s not like I’ve been keeping my intentions a secret. When I called you in Manhattan I told you exactly what I was planning. I don't know why you and Cara sound so shocked.”

  He stood there, completely dumbfounded, although he was hard-pressed to know why. This was exactly the kind of thing he would expect from Ruthie. But unlike Cara, he wasn’t immune to it.

  Ruthie stood up, took the tea pot from his hand. “Let me take that, Devin. You look completely unnatural.”

  She dropped the kettle on the stove and swung around.

  “Oh, and don’t worry. I called your mother to invite her, but...” She bit her bottom lip. “She was a little upset you didn’t call her yourself, so I smoothed things over and gave her all the details.”

  “Which are?”

  “You and Cara are getting married on Labor Day.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Uh-huh. Don’t worry. She’s just as happy as I am.” Ruthie sat down and turned her focus to the steeping tea, squeezing the excess liquid from her tea bag and acting as if all this was perfectly normal.

  Yes, he called Ruthie to ask for guidance on how to handle this situation with Cara. Devin knew she had something up her sleeve, but he’d never dreamed she’d gone this far.

  “And when were you planning to tell me this hoax of a wedding you've been planning was a real wedding?”

  She looked at him innocently over the rim of her mug. “When you were on my side. Which is, I hope, the reason you called me here this morning.”

  He laughed, a rolling guttural sound that turned into a deep belly laugh he couldn’t get under control. He turned and hunched over, resting his hands on the counter, trying to compose himself.

  “I’m so glad you aren’t angry,” Ruthie said, smiling brightly.