The Marriage Contract Read online

  “You’re keeping him?” Apparently, her face registered more than just a little surprise. His low rumbling chuckle sounded like thunder rolling across the sky. She cursed herself for the lightheaded feeling it caused.

  Still grinning, he said, “My having a dog shocks you?”

  “No,” she lied. The past twenty-four hours had been one big shock. If she let herself dwell on any one thing, she’d go nuts. She desperately tried to sound unaffected. “I just can’t imagine what you’ll do with a dog in Manhattan. And with your schedule...”

  “I know a lot of people with dogs in the city. As for my schedule, I can make time when it's important. I'm here, aren't I?”

  Heat crept up her already warm skin and she knew she was blushing.

  “You'd be wonderful with a dog. I saw the way you handled him this morning. I just can’t imagine the dog cooped up in a penthouse apartment.”

  He grimaced. “I sold the penthouse.”

  “You did?”

  He nodded. “As of right now, this little seaside cottage is my address. That is until I find a new place.”

  She dropped down to sit on the stairs. Beneath her thigh she felt the splintered treads and carefully shifted herself to look at him.

  “So you were serious about leaving Manhattan?”

  “Maybe,” he said, picking up an empty beer bottle from the railing and motioning to her. “Have one?”

  “Sure,” she replied.

  The screen door slammed behind him as he disappeared into the cottage for a moment. When he came back, he had two open bottles of beer and a glass. He handed the glass and one of the bottles to her.

  Cara couldn’t help but smile. “You know, I used to chug down from the bottle with you. Since when do you offer me a glass?”

  Although her comment was meant as a joke, she noticed his expression was serious. “Like you said, a lot of things have changed since then.”

  Her smile faded. “You’re right. But I have the feeling you’re not talking about drinking beer from the bottle.”

  He sank down to the treads and rested his elbows on his knees, holding the beer bottle in his hand and staring out at the ocean. “No, I’m not.”

  “What’s eating at you?”

  “Nothing a good beer buzz won’t take care of.”

  She nudged him in the knee. Bad move, she thought as a jolt of electricity singe her skin where their bodies met. Her awareness of him startled her. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt with him before, almost animal. She wondered if he felt it, too.

  She looked at his face, into his dark eyes and knew he did, too.

  “Where’s your other half?” he asked, still not looking at her.

  “My other...oh, you mean Roger.”

  He nodded.

  She didn’t know why, but the mention of Roger suddenly felt like an intrusion. She certainly never considered him the other half of her. She’d seriously forgotten that he was back at the house working in her father’s den. He’d probably be there for the better part of the day.

  “He’s working. It’s not often you can drag Roger away from his desk, so it’ll be a working vacation for him.”

  “All work no play-” he started the familiar phrase, but Cara finished it.

  “Makes Cara go insane.”

  “Guilty as charge,” she said, grinning.

  He laughed again in a way that made her want to laugh too, but deep down, there was nothing to laugh about. She’d intended to take these few weeks off for a vacation that a year ago, she’d have fought herself. Now she was getting perturbed with a regiment of life she’d followed.

  “Don’t tell me you planned on this being a working vacation.” When he gazed at her, it was if he could see right through to the hidden inside. Warm heat that had nothing to do with the mid-August sun, spread through her from her neck to the tips of her toes.

  “I planned on a lot of things that don't seem to be going the way I'd hoped. I have always been so certain about everything I wanted.” Until now. So much of what she always thought was written in stone was now being wiped clean and re-written. She was changing, people she loved were leaving. At least she could count on Roger to be the same old Roger.

  “It was one of the common threads between us.”

  She couldn’t help but smile at that. “Hmmm, and I never made any apologies for it.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with knowing what you want and going after it.”

  It was his voice. That's what was turning her mind to mush. Its deep timbre sounded so soothing, lulling juxtaposed to the roar of the waves crashing into shore. If she let herself think about it, she could recall a hundred times they sat and talked as kids where she unknowingly sat and listened to the sound of Devin Michaels’ voice.

  She wondered if it was one of the assets he used in court to win his cases. Probably. She’d seen coverage on CNN of a high profile case he tried a few years ago. He was dynamic in the court room. Like he was now, just sitting there, talking with her.

  Yes, things were changing all around her, but there was one thing she knew she could count on. Devin Michaels. Deep down, despite the deepening lines on their faces and the distance they’d put between them, she still found it so easy to talk to Devin. It was as if living half their lives apart had no effect on their friendship.

  She watched a woman with a small child of about two years old, walking along the water’s edge. The wind blew the crisp white sun cap off the toddlers head and blew to the sand a few yards up the beach. Mother and child playfully ran after it, hand in hand, giggling. Cara couldn’t help but giggle, too. That was the paramount thing that had changed with her, she realized. The most colossal change a person could make in their life was starting a family.

  “You really want a baby, don’t you,” Devin said quietly as he watched her. He noticed, even this morning during their run, how Cara reacted every time she saw a child. Who’d have thought that she would ever succumb to maternal urges? She’d never once spoken of motherhood for herself.

  But then again, who was he to be surprised? No one would ever believe the changes he’d been thinking about for his own life. He could only imagine how the brass plates back in Manhattan would react if he decided to actually go through with any of those plans.

  Cara was still looking out at the ocean, an expression of longing on her face that he’d never seen before. Her vulnerability overwhelmed him and made him want to touch her. Reaching out, he stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers and gently brushed a wayward strand of hair aside.

  She closed her eyes for a mere second, and leaned into his touch, the scent of jasmine drifting to him with the light breeze. She smelled sweet like powder and lemons, as if she’d just made some homemade lemonade before she came over. He heard her moan softly before her eyes flew open.

  She stood up quickly, pulling the cuffed edges of her white shorts from her thighs before taking the few steps down the stairs. She brushed her hand along her derriere as if she were suddenly self-conscious. What he wouldn’t do to have his hand there, doing that very same thing. He couldn’t help but take pleasure in the gentle sway of her hips as she moved. He’d touched her countless times in harmless ways, but never in the way his mind kept insisting he venture now.

  And it was an incredible odd place to go. This was Cara, the girl he used to help climb out of her second floor bedroom window in the middle of the night so they could have a bonfire on the beach and drink cheap liquor. She was the one who played hooky from her summer job just to drive all the way to New Hampshire to buy an old beat up Firebird he’d wanted to restore.

  And she was the one who listened to countless hours of his hopes for the future, his fears of failure and his devastation when he learned his father was going to die.

  She’d been there, always. No matter what time of day or night. And like that old Firebird, he’d left her and their friendship behind. Looking back, he couldn’t understand shy. When had their friendship ceased to be impo
rtant enough that he no longer needed her?

  She twisted around and smiled at him. It was a slow, coy smile that he wasn’t used to seeing on her. She’d always been confident. But now, she looked exposed, as if that hot fire that sparked to life, making him want to pull her into his arms, was somehow affecting her, too. And the idea of that wasn’t half bad.

  “I should be going,” she said finally.

  He felt his expression collapse. “You just got here.”

  She was uncomfortable. He could see it by the way she flitted her gaze to him and then away. God, he hated that. That wasn’t the way it was supposed to be with them.

  “I’m going to see if I can drag Roger away from Dad’s den for a little while. There’s no telling what my mother is up to now that Roger is staying under the same roof.”

  “That bad?”

  “Actually, no. I have to admit I thought it would be worse than it is. They’re trying to stay out of each other’s way, which is a blessing. But still...”

  Her voice was soft and when a soft sigh escaped her lips he had the incredible urge to touch her mouth, kiss her. Sure, he’d kissed her before. But as a friend. Not at all the way he wanted to take her now.

  Disappointment hit him straight in the chest. He didn’t want her to leave. He wanted to sit there—all day if he could—and just look at her, talk to her. It had been a long time since he’d felt this much at peace being with another person, not worrying about weighing his words or thoughts. It’s what he always loved most about him and Cara.

  He pulled himself up from the stairs. “Let me get a shirt. I’ll walk you back.”

  She shook her head and nibbled on her bottom lip. “That’s okay. I could use some time alone. It’s a little crowded back home.”

  He watched her pull her sneakers off her feet and step into the wet sand. What the hell was he thinking? After two days with Cara, did he really think he could figure out how the last seventeen years had affected her?

  No, he had his own life plan to figure out. Starting with whether or not he was going to take the Palmer case. That pile of newspaper clippings and court documents weren’t going to get read watching Cara’s hip sway as she walked along the surf.

  But he couldn’t help himself. He watched her anyway because it felt good. He kept his eyes on her even as he heard the sound of the phone ringing in the house, until she was completely out of sight. When the ringing persisted, he took the stairs two at a time and bolted through the back door to catch the caller.

  He said, “Hello,” just as the screen door slammed behind him.

  “I’m glad you’re in, Devin. I was just about to hang up.” Ruthie’s voice was as pleasant as ever. “I was wondering if you could do me a bit of a favor.”

  He slumped into a kitchen chair. “You know I can never refuse you, Ruthie.”

  “That’s what I’m counting on.”

  Devin chuckled. She was up to something all right and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to find out what it was. “What can I do for you?”

  “Well, it seems I’ve gotten myself in a pickle.” Her tone was serious.

  He frowned. Reaching back, nestling the phone between his shoulder and chin, he opened the refrigerator to grab another beer. “Sounds like trouble. Is it a legal issue? Something with the sale of the house?”

  Ruthie’s charming laughter came flowing over the phone line. “Lord, no. Nothing at all like that.”

  He breathed a slight sigh of relief. “Good.”

  “I happened to see Penny Brunelle this morning, and we got to talking, and I mentioned you were in town. Do you remember Penny?”

  He thought a minute. “No.”

  “She graduated with Cara. Very nice girl. Has her own bridal boutique. Anyway, she’s going through a divorce and with you being a lawyer and all...”

  “I’m a defense attorney, Ruthie. I’m not sure I can be of any help. Unless, of course, she tries to kill him.”

  Ruthie’s laugh was rich. “Oh, I know, but maybe you could have dinner with her tonight and put her at ease...about her settlement, of course.”

  He half grinned. “Of course.”

  Somehow he knew there was more than just white frosting on a devil’s food cake here. Ruthie had been known to bake a few harmless schemes in her day where Cara was concerned. But this time, Cara wasn’t part of the recipe. She was cooking up something and Devin wondered just what that was.

  “So will you go?”

  He shrugged, looking at the pile of reading material strewn about the kitchen table, waiting to be read.

  Cara said she needed time alone to think. He was positive she could see how hot he got just watching her this afternoon and it had nothing to do with the temperature being close to 100 degrees! After the way his thoughts had been pulling him to her, maybe a diversion would help put his mind and his libido back on track, back to the way things used to be with them.

  “Sure, why not.”

  “Great. I took the liberty of making reservations for seven at the Whaler’s Inn.”

  He scribbled down directions to Penny’s house and the time. He washed down the dregs of his beer and stared at the ink on the notepad. He tore out the directions and added the notepad to the pile on the table. He wasn’t going to get any work done on the Palmer case tonight if he was thinking about Cara. Going on a blind date wasn’t exactly his style, but Penny Brunelle might just be the distraction he needed.

  “Ruthie and a bridal consultant,” he mumbled to himself. “I wonder who’s getting married?”

  * * *

  Cara re-read the same page from the home interiors magazine she’d been trying to read for the past fifteen minutes. This was becoming a habit. Giving up, she tossed the magazine to the end table and wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. This heat wave was just another thing to add to the list of things starting to bug her.

  Why had she left Devin's so quickly? She sighed heavily. Because every time he looked at her she wanted to fall into his arms and not let go. She wanted to be with him. But she couldn't stand the feelings she was having for him, so she took the coward’s way out and left.

  Now she was just plain bored and wished she was back at Devin's cottage with him. She'd already gone into the den twice in the last hour to see if Roger was done working and got the non-committal “almost”. She'd be damned if she'd interrupt him again.

  It had been a bad idea to invite Roger, she decided as she plopped down on the back stairs, arching her back to pull out the kinks. The sun was sinking in the horizon, giving a milky film to the water and an amber color to the sky. At least there was an occasional breeze to salve the heat and humidity. She only wished she could find something that would salve her own unrest.

  The slap of the screen door against the wooden frame jarred her and caused her to turn around. “Hi, Ma,” she said, slightly annoyed that it wasn't Roger.

  Ruthie blotted the sweat from her neck with a white dishtowel. “Are you still hungry, dear?”

  “We just finished dinner an hour ago.”

  “I know, but I’m in the mood for some fried clams?”

  A half hour later Cara stood by the takeout window of the Whaler’s Inn. The smell of fried seafood filled her head immediately. She wasn’t hungry, but she needed to get out of the house and stretch. Anything was better than sitting at home, brooding.

  Stuffing the change the waiter had just given her into her pocket, she clutched the bag of fried clams and turned to leave. As she walked over the pavement, the sound of her white flip-flop sandals slapping the soles of her feet entranced her until she heard a familiar low rumbling laugh.

  Her heart pounded in her chest. It could be anyone. But no, she knew the sound of that laugh. She plopped the bag of takeout on the hood of her car and spun around, scanning the parking lot to see if it was actually Devin. And then she recognized him, sitting at a table on the back porch of the restaurant. Her heart lifted until she saw the tall, leggy, blond wearing a w
hite mini-dress seated practically in his lap.

  Penny Brunelle hadn’t changed much. Married three times already since high school, she’d made a career out of arranging weddings for herself as well as others. Now what was she doing with Devin?

  Cara bit down on her bottom lip. She didn’t want to know.

  If you have any sense at all, Cara, you’ll get in the car and drive away before they notice you. What business was it of hers that Devin had a date? So he’d come to Westport for her birthday party, but that didn’t mean he had to stay in her back pocket the whole time. She clenched her teeth as she watched Penny trying to climb into his.

  Although from the several rows of cars that sat between them she couldn’t hear a single word they were speaking, Cara suddenly felt like she was eavesdropping on Devin's private conversation with Penny. She did hear all the bells and whistles Penny was clanging to attract Devin’s attention.

  She watched as Penny stood up, pulling Devin to a stand, and wrapped her arms around his waist, gyrating her hips as she moved. It became a conscious effort for Cara to keep her fingernails from breaking skin on the inside of her palms.

  And to breathe. She needed to breathe. Forcing a lung full of air into her chest, she yanked the car door open. They were going to kiss and Cara did not want to be around to see it. She’d already gotten a bigger eyeful than she wanted or needed for one night.

  So what if Devin has a date with her high school rival?

  So what if Penny was scoping out husband number four?

  For all she cared, they could go home and...

  Pain brought her thoughts back to the present. Cara glanced down at her hand and realized she’d been digging her car keys into the flesh of her palm. She jammed the keys into the ignition and roared the engine to drown out her thoughts. Almost forgetting the food on the hood, she opened the door, retrieved the bag and slammed the door shut. She turned the corner onto the main road and kicked her foot on the accelerator, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel.