The Marriage Contract Page 3

  But he was still Devin Michaels, her childhood buddy.

  “Devin,” she said, catching her breath when he was finally standing before her. She looked up and noticed the inches he'd grown taller. He was now at least six inches taller than her five foot seven inch frame.

  “Hello, mia Cara.” The words of endearment rolled off his tongue with ease, sounding as soothing as the ocean that lulled her to sleep at night. My dear one was the meaning. Her grandmother had referred to her that way on countless occasions in her youth, which Devin had teased her about when he'd been privy to hear. But this time, the pure emotion with which he spoke the simple words cascaded over her like the incoming tide.

  #

  Chapter Two

  Cara knew the face. She knew the name. But, for sure, she did not know this man standing in front of her. Brushing her sweaty palms on the sides of her jeans, she turned away from his probing gaze, not believing her eyes. When she turned back and blinked, Devin Michaels was definitely standing in front of her in the flesh.

  What was he doing back here after all these years?

  She opened her mouth to speak, but the words somehow got lodged in her throat.

  His deep rumbling chuckle made her glance up at him.

  “What's so funny?”

  Devin shook his head slightly and kept his eyes focused on her. “Nothing,” he said.

  She knew he was lying. This time he was teasing her for actually blushing when she'd always been the one to tease him. She also saw that hidden beneath that scrupulously constructed veneer he held up like a shield, allowing the world only to glimpse the dynamic man that he'd become, he was the same Devin she remembered.

  Excitement took hold of her and she couldn't help but laugh herself. “I can't believe you're really here.”

  “Me, too.”

  He brushed his hand over his head, passed the flecks of gray peppering the dark hair at his temples, until his hand settled at the nape of his neck. He'd gotten older. So had she. They weren't teenagers anymore like they were the last time they'd seen each other.

  She’d thought about him often over the years, meant to drop him a card or a phone call, but then got buried in whatever crisis needed her attention at the time. In the past few days, he’d been on her mind constantly. But until now, until he was actually in front of her, she hadn’t realized just how much she truly missed having him in her life.

  Part of her had the most incredible urge to run to Devin and give him a great big bear hug. But she kept her distance with the table of salable trinkets wedged between them.

  “It's good to see you, Dev.”

  “You, too.” His dark eyes twinkled ever so slightly as to lift his shield an inch or two, giving her access to her old friend. He was still there. The same old Devin she'd know.

  He opened his arms wide. “Come here. This one is way overdue.”

  A few quick strides around the table and he was by her side and then into his arms. His embrace filled her with tender feelings that brought her back in time, oddly comforting and unfamiliar at the same time. Cara ignored her foreign feelings and sank into his hard chest, reveling in the warmth his touch gave her. Cara forced a deep breath of salted sea air passed the lump forming in her throat.

  She'd lingered in Devin's arms longer than what suddenly felt appropriate and she pulled away, awkwardness taking over the initial excitement of seeing him.

  “So. What brings you back here? I thought your mom was still living in Connecticut, so it can't be family. Don't tell me you're tired of the fast lane in New York already?”

  He shrugged slightly. “Well, actually...it was you.”

  Cara blinked. “Me? I don't understand.”

  “I got your birthday card.”

  Squinting an eye, she gave him a teasing sidelong glance. “Not that I'm not flattered, but you had to come all the way to Westport to thank me for a belated birthday card?”

  He opened his mouth to speak but his voice was drowned out by a high pitched squeal.

  “Devin!”

  Ruthie stood on the porch steps, frantically waving the kitchen towel she held in hand. “I'm so pleased you were able to make it!”

  Cara looked up at Devin's suddenly suspect grin. “Make it? What’s she talking about?”

  Devin greeted Ruthie with a kiss on the cheek and a hug to Ruthie’s utter delight. “You know I could never resist you, Ruthie.”

  Cara rolled her eyes to the sky, finally seeing the picture painted before her, one she was sure her mother artistically created.

  “Mother, what have you done?”

  Devin draped his arm across Cara's shoulders. “Don't be angry with her. I wouldn’t have missed your birthday party for anything.”

  “Who's birthday party? I'm not having a birthday party.”

  “You're just in time, Devin. I have a lemon meringue pie cooling. I baked it just for you,” Ruthie said, ignoring Cara’s questioning gaze.

  “You’re having a birthday party for me?” Cara asked, looking at both of them, feeling utterly clueless.

  Devin darted a glance at Ruthie. “Did I just give something away?”

  Ruthie waved him off. “Of course not. It isn't a surprise.”

  “Then why didn't you tell me you were having a birthday party for me?” Cara asked.

  “I meant to but it must have slipped my mind. I’ve been so busy,” Ruthie said more innocently, backing up a step toward the porch.

  “Uh, huh.”

  “You will be coming to dinner, won't you, Devin?” Ruthie said.

  “Of course. But...”

  Devin stared at her. Cara searched his face for a second and saw no trace of amusement, just a bewilderment that seemed to match her own. Without a doubt, she knew Mother Ruthie was up to her old tricks again.

  Ruthie stood on the steps of the porch now and clapped her hands together wildly. “Everything is going to be such fun now that you’re here, Devin.”

  Cara glared at her mother and then turned her whole body to face Devin, trying her best to keep in control. “Oh, I'm sure it is. Help me out, Dev. What’s really going on?”

  “Ruthie really didn’t tell you I was coming to Massachusetts? She called right after I got your cards.”

  “Cards?” Cara turned on her heels and gaped at Ruthie. Ruthie, in turn, gazed up at the bright blue sky, avoiding Cara's accusing stare. “I sent one card.”

  Ruthie backed up until she reached the last step of the porch and put her hand to her ear. “Is that your father calling me?”

  “Daddy's at the hardware store and you know it,” Cara returned.

  “Then I think it must be the timer on the oven. I'll be right back.”

  Ruthie retreated into the house, the screen door slamming behind her. How many times had Cara been yelled at as a child for doing that very same thing?

  Heat filled her cheeks for the second time that day as she gave Devin a sheepish grin. “Well, Dev, as you can see, some things never change around here. Sorry you were railroaded into coming. She must have laid the guilt on pretty thick.”

  “I wasn’t railroaded. Ruthie invited me to your birthday party and I decided to come for a visit.” He laughed. “She hasn’t changed a bit.”

  Cara hooked her arms around his waist and drew in the seductive scent of his musky aftershave. She didn’t ever remember a time when she would have noticed such a thing in Devin.

  “Well, I'm glad you came, for whatever reason. How long are you staying?”

  “I'm not quite sure. The whole trip was spur of the moment.”

  “I’m surprised you could get away on such short notice with your schedule. Or has my mother had this planned for a long time?”

  “She just called me a few days ago.”

  She lowered her voice when an elderly couple came over to the table and started lifting and putting down trinkets that were on display. “Uh...where are you staying while you're here?”

  He pointed back toward the beach. “Believe i
t or not, I was able to rent the cottage we use to stay at every summer before...” He broke off and shrugged uncomfortably. Cara knew immediately what Devin was thinking about.

  “Before your dad...yeah, I know.” She wasn’t there to help him through the days just after his father funeral. She’d wanted to be there, but when his Dad took a turn for the worse, the family thought it was best to bring him home to Connecticut. She called several times a day, talking to him for only brief moments as he held vigil at his father’s bedside. She knew he needed that time and didn’t want to intrude.

  She'd stood beside him at the funeral and tried her best to give him some semblance of comfort during those difficult days. She’d called from college to see how he was doing only to learn that Devin had left for college immediately following the funeral, deciding to go to school on the west coast instead of going to Yale as he’d originally planned. Although she and Devin had written the occasional letter back and forth for a few years after that, life somehow got in the way, and they’d drifted apart.

  “Ruthie sounds excited about this move to Florida,” he said, changing the subject.

  Cara groaned. “Yeah, that’s why I’m here. You can’t believe how much stuff has accumulated in this house. We’ve already made three trips to Goodwill and I don’t know how many to the dump.”

  He looked straight at her, as if he was reading her mind. “You always did love this place. How are you doing with the move? Are you going to be able to part with this house?”

  She puffed her cheeks. Her first thought was to keep a stiff upper lip, but that would be ridiculous. Devin had always been able to read her. As he looked at her with the same caring expression she remembered so vividly from years before, she realized things were no different now.

  “I don’t know. I’ve lived in Boston for a long time but this has always been home. I can’t imagine someone else living here.”

  She swallowed hard to fight back the sudden flow of emotion choking her.

  “It’s really great to see you.”

  Devin bent forward, kissing her lightly on the forehead and she breathed in the scent of him, stirring her. He gave a quick glance around the yard. “Do you need to be here for this or can you get away for a bit?”

  Ruthie poked her head out the kitchen window just as Cara was about to answer. “Go ahead, dear. I'm all set.”

  They both turned to face Ruthie.

  Reaching back into the house, she clumsily forced a straw broom through the opened window and shook it violently. “I wasn't eavesdropping. I was...er...shaking out the broom.”

  Cara rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help but laugh. “Subtle is her middle name. Did I ever tell you that?”

  “It’s coming back to me.”

  The sun was still high in the sky as they took the old path down to the jetty where they used to sit and talk for hours. Cara had walked this path alone many time since, but something vaguely comforting kept coming to mind as they walked today.

  She bent down and picked up a broken shell before tossing it back to the sand. “I still can't believe it's been seventeen years since we've walked along this beach together.”

  “There was an eagle nesting on that cliff over there that last summer, wasn't there,” Devin said, pointing to a jagged ridge of rocks beyond the beach.

  “I remember.”

  Cara plopped down onto the warm sand and discarded her sandals before burying her toes in the coolness below the surface of the sand. She threw her head back, resting with her arms behind her, letting the sun seep into her skin and the music of the ocean fill her head.

  Devin sucked in a deep breath as he set himself down on the sand next to Cara. She was much more beautiful than he remembered because now she was no longer a girl, she was a woman. Her chestnut curls flowed freely down her back to the point of touching the sand and her creamy skin was as luminous as the sun. As they had the day he met her, her cinnamon eyes stopped him dead in his tracks. As a woman, she'd become refined, but he could still see a hint of her untamed beauty beneath her polished surface.

  She lifted her head and turned to him. “You know, I saw you on CNN a few times.”

  He actually felt heat creep up his face. Now that was a first.

  Cara jabbed him in the ribs teasingly. “Come on. Tell me you don't eat up all that press.”

  “It gives my mother bragging material when she goes to church bingo.”

  Cara laughed that wonderful way he remembered, her nose crinkling at the bridge.

  “So, tell me, what was in the other card my mother sent you?”

  “Do you really want to know?”

  Cara made a face.

  “That little marriage proposal I scribbled on your birthday card for your eighteenth birthday.”

  She shook her head and sputtered, “I knew she’d try something. No doubt Mom commandeered my birthday card to you and added her own personal touch.”

  Sitting forward, Cara began sifting sand through her long fingers. A stray lock of chestnut curls fell forward, framing her smooth tanned face.

  “So what was it? You might as well tell me because I'll never get the truth out of her.”

  He grinned. “It’s pay up time.”

  Cara sputtered. “Figures. I knew I got off way too easy when she found it.”

  “She found it?” He didn’t know why that felt like a sudden jab to his heart. For the past couple of days, he’d been thinking it had been Cara who had searched him out, despite the fact that Ruthie had been the one to call. He'd been thinking of Cara for months and naturally assumed she'd been thinking of him too when he saw the card. Obviously, he was wrong.

  But what difference did it make? He was here now and that’s all that really mattered.

  “We were rummaging through some old boxes, getting ready for the tag sale. She has still has this crazy notion that after all these years, you and I should get married.”

  “That’s pretty much what she told me, too.”

  Cara sobered and flashed him a coy grin. “Is that really what she said?”

  “Basically.”

  “I’m sorry, Dev. I’m sure the last thing you expected was to be pulled here by my mother’s wild ideas.”

  “Don't be. Actually, Ruthie's call couldn’t have come at a better time. It provided me with a reason to get away from my office.”

  “I figured you'd be in high demand in Manhattan. Heck, after the way CNN went on about the Great Devin Michaels, I'd think you'd be booked with cases for the next ten or twenty years.”

  Sadly, it had been coming to that. Not that he was book for the rest of the decade, but far enough in advance that he'd gone to major blows with the senior partners for taking an indeterminate amount of leave. Every time he looked at that never ending road ahead of him, all he wanted to do was turn.

  He glanced up at Cara and saw her probing brown eyes searching his expression. He'd been right to come home to Westport. He needed clarity in his life and this was exactly the place he'd get it.

  “Nothing that a few days R&R can’t handle. Like I said, I was glad when Ruthie called and gave me a reason to get away,” he said, brushing off her concerned look. He didn't want to delve too deeply into the dark feelings he’d been having about his chosen career. He was just too damned happy to be there, talking with Cara like they always had, to think about anything else. There was plenty of time for soul searching over the next few days.

  She didn’t press him any further, to his great relief. But the tightness in her brow as she gazed out at the ocean told him she was still thinking about what he'd said.

  “So what about you? You mother was pretty persistent. Any marriage plans you should be telling me about?” he teased, knowing he’d get a good rise out of her. He wasn’t disappointed.

  “Don't you start, too.”

  He grinned. “Has she always been like this? I mean, the whole time?”

  Cara puffed her cheeks. “Not really. There were those few months in my mid-twe
nties when I was seeing someone she actually liked. I don’t think she wanted to jinx anything, so she kept quiet. But once I hit thirty...” She whistled and dove her hand into the sand.

  “Pretty much downhill from there?”

  “You know it!”

  Her expression changed slightly as a flash of pain cross her face. And then it was gone and she was smiling again.

  “You know what I've been up against my whole life! I just found out the other day she has been making baby clothes for my future children since I was a baby myself. Does that sound normal to you?”

  “No, but…”

  “Yeah, I know. My family isn’t exactly garden variety.”

  “Do you still feel the same about marriage and children?” he asked. He expected to hear a resounding “yes” as her answer, but to his surprise, she didn’t.

  Shrugging, she said, “So much is changing all around me, I don’t know what to think.”

  He pulled himself up from the sand and extended his hand to help Cara to her feet. “Come on. Let’s walk to the jetty. Surely that hasn’t changed.”

  They walked a few moments in silence except for the distant sound of laughter on the far side of the beach and the roar of the waves rolling into shore. Devin couldn’t help but think there was something more buried under the surface of Cara’s control. The years had mellowed her some. It amazed him how he could still read her at all after all this time apart.

  They trudged along the sand, virtually alone on the private beach except for some scattered beachcombers. More than once he’d stolen a glance in Cara's direction only to find she was staring at him. God, how he missed those brown eyes.

  When he'd first hired Brenda to be his assistant, he noticed her soft brown eyes and immediately thought of Cara. They'd haunted him ever since. Not Brenda's, but the memory of Cara's cinnamon eyes twinkling laughter up at him just like they were now, leaving him with a dead feeling inside for what he was missing.

  As they reached the jetty, he reached for Cara's small hand and helped her onto the first boulder. Together they balanced themselves, jumping from one massive rock to the next until they reached the jetty’s point.