Love is Lovelier

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Love is Lovelier Page 9

by Donna Simonetta


  “A hussy?” He grinned, and kissed her teasingly. “Honey, we traveled to West Virginia, not back in time.”

  She tried to suppress her smile; it was best not to encourage him. “Hussy. Ho. Call it whatever you want, but get yourself upstairs and into your own bed. Now.”

  She rolled off him, and pulled the covers up to her chin.

  He heaved a sigh and rose from the bed. “You’re a hard-hearted woman, Heather Braden.”

  She grinned at his back as he walked up the stairs.

  He whispered over his shoulder, “Don’t forget you promised me a slow dance tomorrow.”

  “I promised you a dance. I didn’t say anything about a slow dance.”

  He chuckled before he shut the door behind him, leaving her alone and even more hot and bothered than she’d been before his little visit.

  She threw the covers off and flopped down on the bed.

  It would be all right. I mean how much trouble could they get into during one, little, tiny, slow dance?

  Chapter 10

  Heather breathed a sigh of relief when the song ended. Dave had led her around the dance floor with much more enthusiasm than grace. Between a workout to rival a Zumba class and the unusually warm spring weather she was about to sweat through her turquoise silk wrap dress.

  “I’m going to get a Dr. Pepper. Can I get you anything from the bar?” Dave offered like an eager puppy.

  As the next song started, she saw Mick spin by with the radiant bride beaming up at him like he’d hung the moon.

  “No thanks, Dave. I’m going to head outside to cool off a bit.” She fanned her face, which she feared was as red as a tomato.

  She’d been to a million weddings like this one back in Rivers Bend. The ceremony had been at a sweet, little white church, and the reception was here at the local VFW Hall.

  She stepped out of the building and squinted into the afternoon sun, which seemed especially bright after being in the windowless hall.

  The acrid smell of cigarette smoke stung her sinuses, and she scrunched up her nose and looked to the left, where Danny was leaning against the building, having a smoke.

  “Hey, Heather. Finally wise up and decide to run away from my brother?”

  “Nope, I just came out for a breath of fresh air.” She stared pointedly at his cigarette as she said it.

  He took one last drag, and flicked the butt onto the gravel parking lot with his thumb and forefinger.

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem, but no need to sound so surprised. I don’t know how Mick treats you, but I always respect a lady’s wishes.”

  She knew he was trying to get under her skin, but she still bristled at the criticism of Mick. “Don’t you ever get tired of picking on Mick?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “That’s too bad, because I’m tired of hearing it.”

  “I don’t reckon we’ll see each other again after tomorrow, so you won’t have to suffer through it much longer.”

  “I don’t know about that, I think now the ice is broken, you’ll be seeing more of Mick.”

  “Mebbe. But will you be with him?”

  “I might be. We’re good friends.” Her chin jutted out, and she hated she’d fallen into Danny’s trap, and knew she sounded every bit as defensive as she felt.

  He pursed his lips, braced one foot on the concrete wall behind him, and looked out to the road. “I saw him coming up from your bedroom last night; I’d say you two are a lot more than good friends. But the truth of the matter is you’re just a farm girl from Virginia.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “And what’s wrong with that? You don’t think I’m good enough for your brother?”

  “You’ve got the wrong end of the stick, Heather. I like you just fine. What I think is my brother isn’t good enough to polish those pretty high-heeled shoes you got on.”

  She wrinkled her nose and looked down at her shoes; then back up at him. “Thank you…I think. If you feel that way about me, what’s with the farm girl crack?”

  “Think about it. If Mick thinks he’s too good for his West Virginia mining family, is he likely to settle down with a good ole girl from a horse farm south of the Mason-Dixon line? I don’t think so.”

  “First of all, Mick does not think he’s too good for you.”

  Danny snorted. “That’s your opinion. I don’t happen to agree with it.”

  She continued on as if he hadn’t spoken. “And he most certainly doesn’t think he’s better than me.”

  “Oh yeah? He ever take you out in public? Or does he just say you’re his ‘friend.’ ” He made air quotes around the last word. “And then sneak into your bed when he thinks no one is watching?”

  “He brought me here to a family wedding. I think that proves he’s not ashamed of me.”

  “So what? He brought you to see the family; he doesn’t want anywhere near his shiny, new life. Face it, we’re both cockroaches to his high and mightiness.”

  “That’s just not true.”

  “Has he ever taken you to one of those fancy charity shindigs he goes to?”

  “Well…no…but…”

  “The way I see it,” he interrupted her stammering response, “And I’m just being honest here, so excuse my language, you’re good enough for him to fuck, but not good enough for the snooty image he puts out there. I bet he’s got some fancy woman he takes out in public, while he keeps you in bed, or with his lower-than-dirt family.”

  She thought about Gloria Peterson, and his lunches at the Nosh Pit with the socialite. He never took her anywhere. But he did take her here to his sister’s wedding. Mick trusted her to help him navigate the stormy seas of this family visit, but why didn’t he ever take her out in Rivers Bend? Even just out for a pizza as friends? Could Danny possibly be right? Her heart raced at the unpleasant thought that rude and boorish as he might be, there was a chance Danny was on to something here.

  Before she could pull herself together and formulate a response, Danny looked over her shoulder and smiled sardonically. “Were your ears burning, Mick? We were just talking about you.”

  “My ears are just fine, thank you for your concern. I was looking for Heather, and Dave told me she was out here.”

  “Here I am,” she chirped, and tried to push Danny’s ugly insinuations out of her head as she smiled at Mick.

  He returned her smile with a hint of heat in his eyes. “Heather owes me a dance, and I wanted to claim it.”

  “She’s all yours.” Danny pushed off the wall and swaggered past them into the building. “She’s a damn fine woman, I hope you appreciate what you’ve got.”

  Mick frowned after him. “Was he bothering you?”

  Heather saw no point in telling Mick what Danny had said to her. It would only get him all fired up, and she didn’t want to be the cause of a brawl between brothers that would ruin Susan’s wedding. She shrugged. “He was out here for a smoke, and I came out to cool off some. It’s really hot in there.”

  His eyes raked over her body, and she felt the look like it was a physical touch.

  “You still look hot to me.”

  She chose to ignore his double-entendre. “I’m much cooler now, so I’m ready for our dance.”

  “Are you okay? You seem a little off. I know he’s not my biggest fan, but it’s no excuse for Danny being rude to you.”

  “He wasn’t rude, not about me anyway. He said he liked me; he thinks I’m too good for you.”

  He laughed shortly and without humor. “He isn’t wrong.”

  She held her hand up to her heart. “What? You and Danny agreeing on something? Is the world ending? Because I’m fairly certain it’s one of the signs of impending apocalypse.”

  He smiled at her joke, and crooked his arm at her. “Shall we have our dance now?”

  She tucked her hand in his elbow. “Let’s dance.”

  They entered the hall, just as the DJ queued up a slow, romantic song. The groom swept the bride onto the dan
ce floor, and Mick followed suit with Heather.

  She caught a glimpse of Danny, slumped on a barstool. He lifted his beer to her in a silent toast; a mocking smile twisted his lips.

  Mick pulled her tight against his body, and slid his hands down her silk dress to rest on her lower back, with his fingertips just barely brushing the top of her butt.

  He had to lean down just a bit, and rested his cheek against hers. “I love how tall you are. Most girls make me feel like a giant when we dance,” he whispered.

  “I know what you mean. It’s nice to dance with someone taller than me. Once I put on heels, I tower over most guys.”

  She wrapped her arms around him, as they swayed in time to the music. Mick had taken off his suit jacket, and he wore a white dress shirt, with his tie loosened at the neck. She felt his body heat warm her fingers through the crisp, cotton shirt. The strong muscles of his back bunched as he danced, and Heather felt as though they were the only two people in the room.

  She didn’t think she’d ever wanted a man this much in her life, and based on the hard-all-over body pressed against her, the feeling was mutual.

  “…darling, you look wonderful tonight,” he sang softly along with the song, as he nudged a strong thigh between her legs.

  Heather ran her hands across his back, and moved one up to the nape of his neck, which was smooth, and just a little bit sweaty in the hot room.

  A click and a bright flash jolted them out of their reverie.

  “What the hell?” Mick growled.

  “Got it!” The wedding photographer announced cheerfully. “The bride specifically asked for a shot of y’all together. She’s going to love this one! Keep me in mind for your wedding. Susan can give you my contact info.”

  “Thanks, but we’re not even dating, let alone engaged,” Heather said.

  “Riiight…” The photographer winked and moved away to capture the groom’s parents, as they boogied to the disco song that started after the slow song ended.

  Mick put his hand on the small of her back, and guided her off the crowded dance floor. “What made him think we were engaged?”

  She shrugged. “Danny thinks we’re sleeping together. He saw you coming upstairs last night from my room, and jumped to the obvious conclusion.”

  “Crap! I’m sorry, Heather.”

  “It’s none of his business; I didn’t even bother trying to set him straight. I just brought it up to say—first Danny, and now the photographer. We seem to be sending some kind of sexual, couple vibe out to the universe.”

  The muscles in Mick’s jaw clenched, and his voice was terse. “Then tonight, I’ll stay in my own room all night. I don’t want to give Danny any more ammunition.”

  “If you want to talk to me, you can come down, but if you think it will cause weirdness, then don’t. Your family, your call.”

  They stood in silence for a moment, and then a hopeful gleam lit his eyes. “Are you sure I don’t need to kick Danny’s ass?”

  “No, and certainly not at your only sister’s wedding.”

  “Fine. Be all reasonable, you killjoy.”

  “You’re not fooling me. You don’t really want to kick your brother’s ass.”

  He raised one eyebrow. “I don’t?” He playfully kicked out one of his feet. “Then you better tell my ass-kickin’ foot, because it’s ready to go.”

  She smothered a laugh and swatted his arm. “Stop it!”

  Mrs. Evans bustled over, looking pretty, and a little less weary than usual, in her beige mother-of-the-bride suit. She grabbed Heather’s hand. “C’mon, Heather, Susan’s getting ready to toss the bouquet!”

  Heather dug in her heels. “Oh, no!”

  “Oh, yes,” Mrs. Evens replied and dragged her front and center, before abandoning her to the pack of rowdy, single women jostling for position on the dance floor.

  Heather cast an imploring look Mick’s way, but the big lug just grinned and shrugged.

  As Susan wound up and threw the lovely bouquet of pink and white roses, Heather kept her arms glued to her sides, as the rest of the woman jostled each other and waved their arms in the air.

  The bouquet flew toward Heather like it had a homing device implanted in the satin ribbon, but she didn’t move her arms, and it landed with a muffled thump at her feet.

  She heard Mick’s loud burst of laughter, as Susan cried out.

  “Heather! You didn’t even try to catch it! But the bouquet picked you anyway.”

  The bride walked over, picked up the flowers, and pressed them against Heather’s chest. She had no choice but to reach up to hold the fragrant burden.

  “Face it, Heather, the flowers have spoken. You are definitely going to be the next one to be married, and I couldn’t be happier. I’ve always wanted a sister!” Susan enthused.

  Mick’s laughter stopped as suddenly as it had started.

  Chapter 11

  Post-wedding letdown made Sunday breakfast at the Evans house a gloomy affair. Everyone missed Susan’s cheerful presence. Mrs. Evans snuffled as she fried the bacon; Dave and Billy tried to lighten the mood with some good-natured brotherly teasing, but their efforts fell flat. While Danny and Mr. Evans glowered at Mick, who gave back glower just as good as he was getting.

  Heather sat between the warring factions and frowned at the centerpiece. The bouquet pressed upon her after the toss sat in a vase in the middle of the kitchen table. True to his word, Mick stayed out of her bedroom last night, but it didn’t seem to matter. His whole family had them married off anyway.

  She couldn’t stand just sitting here in the middle of this angry staring contest. “Are you sure I can’t do anything to help, Carol? I make a mean piece of toast.”

  Carol smiled over her shoulder. “You’re such a sweet, helpful girl, but no thanks. I’ve got cooking breakfast for my boys down to a science.”

  “You’re a good kid,” Mr. Evans observed, as he continued to glare at Mick. “I bet you never did anything to go against your parents’ wishes, or to break your mama’s heart.”

  “Don’t go to Vegas with that bet, Mr. Evans, you’d lose the house.”

  Everyone gaped at her in shock, including Mick.

  “I don’t believe it for a minute—you’re a doll!” Carol exclaimed.

  Heather smiled at her. “Thanks, but it’s the truth. My dad passed away when I was just a kid, so he and I never fought. But there was a time, right after high school, when my mom and I had such a big argument about me going against her wishes we didn’t speak to each other for a good long while.”

  She looked at Mick and saw it in his eyes as he realized it was during the time they’d known each other.

  “I never knew about this,” Mick said. “That would’ve been when you were living in Portland.”

  She blinked and looked down at her hands, which were busy shredding the paper napkin at her place setting. Telling Mick about this time in front of his whole family was not what she wanted. Why had she brought it up?

  Oh yeah. It was in a misguided attempt to divert Mr. Evans from his angry sniping at Mick. Damn her protective instinct! Mick was a big boy, he could take care of himself, but she hated seeing the hurt in his eyes, even as he stared down his father across the breakfast table.

  She cleared her throat and finally spoke. “Me living in Portland was at the root of our argument.”

  “She didn’t want you living so far from home? I can understand, it would tear me up if Susan moved across the whole country. I miss her like anything already and she’s just moving across town,” Carol said as she added more bacon to the frying pan.

  “It wasn’t the distance, so much as what I was doing there.”

  Mick furrowed his brow. “You were helping your brother care for his baby daughter after his wife died. I can’t believe Joyce objected to what you were doing!”

  “Oh, how sad,” Carol said.

  There were a lot of circumstances around her late sister-in-law’s death Heather had no intention of sharin
g with the Evans family. Mick was there, and he knew the truth, but no one else here needed to know, so she didn’t reply directly to Carol’s statement. It was a sad situation, but not for the reasons Carol meant.

  “My sister-in-law died in a car accident when my niece, Samantha, was just a baby. Jeff was in his first season with the Pintos, and all alone in Portland with Sam. They needed someone to help them. My mom had the farm to run, and my older sister was married with kids of her own, so I went.” Heather shrugged as if it were no big deal.

  “Still not seeing why this caused such a huge rift between Joyce and you,” Mick said. “Jeff couldn’t leave Portland, and you’d just graduated from high school, so you were the obvious choice to help.”

  “That’s how I felt,” Heather said with a small, sad smile. “But in order to go to Portland, I put off going to college.”

  “But you took classes at the community college—I remember.”

  “It wasn’t the same to my mom. To me either, really, but Jeff and Sam needed me. You see, I had a full scholarship to M.I.T. I turned it down to go to Portland to take care of Sam.”

  Mick’s eyes bugged out of his head. “M.I.T.? The M.I.T.? The Massachusetts Institute of Technology?”

  Heather stared at the remnants of her napkin. “Yep. Do you know another one?”

  “No. Wow. That’s just…wow.”

  Heather felt the corners of her lips tilt up at the sight of Mick’s dropped jaw. “Your blatant shock at the news I could get into M.I.T. is kind of insulting, Mick.”

  “I’m sure he doesn’t mean anything by it,” Carol said in a soothing tone.

  “Your brother shoulda moved back to Virginia with his baby girl,” Mr. Evans grumbled.

  “And pass up playing in the NFL?” Billy asked with a snort.

  “Yes!” Mr. Evans slammed his fist on the table, so hard the silverware rattled. “It’s just a damn game! Family should always come first.”

  “Just a game that pays a whole, heck of a lot of money if you’re good at it, and Jeff was the best. That game allowed him to provide for his daughter in a way he never could have if he’d stayed in Rivers Bend. Our mom didn’t expect him to move home, she just didn’t want me to give up my scholarship to go to Portland. She wanted Jeff to hire a full-time nanny to watch Sam, or to send Sam back to Rivers Bend and my mom would take care of her, but he couldn’t stand to be separated from his little girl. So I went, but my mom didn’t like it one little bit, and she was angry at both Jeff and me for a long time.”

 

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