Love in a Small Town Box Set 1

by Tawdra Kandle

  I thought he might ask me what I wanted to hear, but instead he began singing. The melody was soft and so beautiful that tears filled my eyes. I didn't recognize the song-not surprising, considering how little popular music was familiar to me-but the words were deep and simple. Love me tender . . .

  I didn't move until his voice was silent and his fingers had stopped moving. When I lifted my eyes to Mason's, his were cautious, tentative.

  “Mason, thank you. That was the most . . . you have such talent.” I bit my lip. “I know that wasn't easy. I'm sure you used to sing to Lu-”

  “Nope.” He held the guitar by its neck and stood to put it away. “I never sang to her. She-she sang to me, sometimes. But it was so much a part of our professional life that she didn't even do that often. It would've felt like bringing business to the bedroom. And I never sang to her because I wasn't good enough.”

  “How can you say that? Mason, you might not've wanted to be a professional musician, but still, you are so gifted.” I scooted up to the pillows as he came back to bed. “Thank you. That was the most beautiful song I've ever heard.”

  He sat next to me, the bed dipping. “Only for you, Rilla. There are parts of me . . . from when I was young, that will always belong to Lu. They died with her. But this was only for you. I've never sung for a woman before.” He kissed me, his lips firm and seeking. “Only for my wife.”

  I sank back into the bed, pulling him with me, and as his body covered mine again, in that moment his love was more real and certain than anything I'd known.

  Even if he hadn't said the words.

  My perfect four weeks came to a screeching end a few days after Naomi came home. I'd made dinner that evening, cleaned up and put Piper to bed. Mason was working late, so I helped Naomi settle in for the night as well, closing the door to her room so he didn’t wake her when he came home.

  I was in the living room, watching reruns of one of Mason’s favorite series when I heard a knock at the kitchen door. It was late, after nine o’clock, and I wasn’t expecting anyone. Mason had his keys. I couldn’t think of who might be here.

  I pushed aside the sheer curtain to peer outside and nearly fell over from shock when I saw who was standing on the kitchen stoop. I stood back, unlocking the deadbolt and opening the door.

  “Jonathan.” My voice was flat. “What’re you doing here?”

  He looked the same as always, the same colorless, wide-eyed pious man, although the expression on his face was cautious. He glanced around before stepping over the threshold. “Rilla. I’m glad I had the right house. I wasn’t sure.”

  “Yeah, you got the right house. Why are you–what do you want?”

  He frowned and glanced over my shoulder. “Maybe we could sit down. Are you here alone?”

  Irritation nearly made me roll my eyes. He was still worried over the impropriety of being in a house with me and no chaperone in sight. “Jonathan, whatever you have to say, you can tell me standing here. And no, we’re not alone. My mother-in-law is in her room, and Piper is upstairs sleeping. Mason’s still at work.” I hesitated and then added, “In case you hadn’t heard, I’m married now.”

  “I did hear it. The whole church heard it. You humiliated your father, and broke your grandmother’s heart. And you can imagine what people were saying about me.”

  I raised one eyebrow. “Actually, I can’t. Why would anyone think anything about you, just because I got married?”

  Jonathan shook his head. “Because everyone knew I was courting you.” He spoke as though it were the most obvious answer in the world.

  “Courting me? Really? All I ever heard from you were excuses about why you couldn’t commit. But I have to thank you. If you’d been even the least bit appealing to me, I might not have met Mason. And the truth is, he changed my life.” I huffed out a breath. “So why’re you here?”

  He fiddled with the buttons on his sleeve. “I came, Rilla, because I feel that you’ve had sufficient days to come to your senses. You’ve wallowed in sin long enough. It’s time for you to repent, and I’m here to assure you that you can come back to the fold. If you admit your wrongdoing, give up your sin, and take up your home with your father again, the church is ready to receive you.”

  I stared at him, incredulous. “What’re you talking about? I’m not coming back, Jonathan. I don’t have any desire to be part of that life anymore. I’ve moved beyond it.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’ve found freedom. And I’m not giving it up.”

  “But you have to. Your father and your grandmother need you.” He paused. “I need you.”

  That actually made me laugh. “You need me? I’ll remind you that you had your chance with me, Jonathan. And now those chance are gone.”

  “I know we had a misunderstanding, Rilla. I might not have been clear enough at the time, but I’m willing to overlook your deliberate flouting of Pastor Shand’s teaching and even your stumble here.” He took a step toward me, and instinctively I moved back. “I’ve looked into it. We can have this sham of a marriage annulled, and once you’ve come back to full fellowship in the body, we can be married. An opportunity has come up for me to take over a church near Macon, and I’ll need the help of a wife.”

  “And you think I’m your best candidate?” I saw the conflict crossing over his face, and the truth dawned on me. “Ohhh. I see what’s happening here.” He began to speak, and I held up my hand. “No, no. Let me see if I’ve guessed right. Pastor Shand—and possibly my father, too—know you’ve been jonesing for your own parish. I bet they dangled this church in Macon in front of you, like a worm before a fish. The only catch, of course, is that you need a wife, and since both my dad and the good pastor hate that I’m finally living my own life and happy, they decided to make marrying me a condition of you getting the church. We’d be far enough away that gossip wouldn’t necessarily follow us, and I’d get the fresh start they think I need. Am I close? Did I nail it?”

  He had the good grace to blush. “Rilla, your father and Pastor Shand care about you, and they want you back on the straight and narrow. Yes, they felt that you and I taking a church a little distance from Burton would be a good idea.”

  “But did they tell you that the church and I are a package deal? If you come back tonight empty-handed, do you still get the pulpit?”

  Jonathan looked down at his hands and shrugged. “I always thought you were a nice person, Rilla. And that you’d be a good and faithful wife. If you’d been patient ... waiting for me a little bit ...”

  “I’d still be waiting, and so would you. Besides, Jonathan, it might interest you to know that I didn’t leave home because I was tired of waiting for you to make your move. I left because my father kicked me out, after calling me some very un-Christian-like names, and he did that because I’d taken a job with a man who desperately needed help with his child and his sick mother. There was nothing wrong between us. And if my dad had been reasonable, I’d probably still be living at home, working here and for my own company, and I might even be thinking about marrying you. But he wasn’t, and I’m not. And now, I want you to get the hell out of my kitchen.” I didn’t swear often, still. It felt odd and awkward coming out of my mouth, but in this situation, I decided, it was entirely warranted.

  “Rilla, don’t do this. Don’t endanger the fate of your immortal soul in exchange for something worldly and wrong. We’ll talk to your father together. We can still be married. You’ll see, it’ll all work out.”

  “What the hell is going on here?”

  I jumped, startled. Mason stood in the doorway of the kitchen, fury and incredulity on his face. He glanced from Jonathan to me, and I saw the tic in his cheek that meant he was close to the edge.

  I drew in a deep breath. “Mason, this is Jonathan. He’s a youth pastor at my father’s church.” I was careful to make the distinction. “Jonathan, this is my husband.”

  Mason came inside the kitchen, towering over Jonathan and moving to stand behind me. “Uh huh. And why is he
here talking about marrying you?”

  I shrugged. “I have no idea.” I’d tell him my theory about the church and Rilla package deal later, when we were alone. There wasn’t any need to humiliate Jonathan further, no matter how much fun it might be.

  Jonathan’s face went tomato red. “We all know that you only married this man in order to live here after your father ... after your misunderstanding. We understand that it is not a real marriage. That’s why it can be annulled. It’ll be like it never happened.”

  “Oh, really?” Mason slid his arm around me, circling my ribs and resting his hands just below my breasts. “You know, Jonathan, I just met you, but I’m going to have to say, I don’t much care for you. Kind of ballsy to come into a man’s house and say his marriage isn’t real.” He tightened his arms and bent his head to my hair. “Feels real to me. Do you want to tell him, Rilla, how real our marriage is?”

  Mason’s voice was deceptively calm, but I could feel the buzz of his anger beneath it. “Jonathan, you’ve made some grave errors and assumptions. I’m not coming back to the church. I’m not repenting of sins I never committed. I’m sure as hell not marrying you.” I covered Mason’s hands with mine. “And my marriage is about the most real thing I’ve ever known.”

  I had the momentary satisfaction of seeing the shock and distaste on Jonathan’s face before he managed to speak again. “Rilla, you will regret this day. You’ve been given the blessing of a second chance, and you’re turning it aside. You won’t be invited back again.”

  “Hope springs eternal.” I pointed to the door. “I think you need to leave, Jonathan.”

  He turned, still sputtering words, and disappeared into the dark. I breathed out a long sigh and turned in Mason’s arms.

  “I’m so sorry, I had no idea he was going to—”

  My words were cut off by the crush of Mason’s lips on mine. Before I could catch my breath, he’d lifted me up so that my face was near his and my feet dangled. He gripped my backside, grinding my center against him, and I wrapped my legs around his hips, my cotton skirt hiking up to my thighs.

  “Mason ...” I tore my mouth away. “What’re you doing?”

  “Claiming what’s mine.” He covered my mouth again, kissing me with swift possessiveness. His tongue plunged between my lips, stroking and branding me. I opened my mouth wide, letting him in, tangling my tongue with his.

  Never breaking the kiss, Mason strode down the hall and up the stairs, not stopping until we were in our bedroom. He shut the door behind us with his foot and dropped me on the bed, not roughly but not with the same gentle care he usually showed me. Not that I was complaining. I found this side of my husband exhilarating.

  “Mason ...” I tried to speak again, but my words faded away as I saw him unbutton his jeans. He stripped them off along with his boxers, kicking both away from his feet. His erection strained toward me.

  I gasped as he pushed up my skirt. His fingers found my underwear and tore them away from me, the sound of ripping fabric loud in the silent room. As soon as they were out of the way, he was touching me, rubbing insistently between my legs until I was panting and begging.

  “Please ... please ... oh, God.” I clutched him, trying to bring him down to me. “Please, Mason.”

  “You want this, Rilla? You want me? You want to feel me inside you?” He was growling the words as he stared intently into my eyes, his blazing with passion and need.

  “Yes! Now. Please now.” I arched up toward him, needing to feel him as much as he needed to brand me as his. “Please.”

  With a groan I was certain could be heard throughout the house, Mason thrust into me. He lifted my hips, angling me as he plunged, watching our bodies join.

  “You’re mine, Rilla. Mine. See this? Feel me inside you? You’re only mine.”

  “Only ... ever ... yours.” I ground out the words, and then I was flying, flying and falling into the pleasure that convulsed between my legs. As my body pulsed around him, Mason gave one last deep thrust and grunted, spilling himself into me.

  He let of my hips, holding onto me until I was flat on the mattress again. Lifting me gently, he tugged until we both lay with our heads on the pillows.

  I rolled over to my side, brushing my hand over Mason’s face. His eyes were closed, but they twitched at my touch. His chest was still moving up and down rapidly, as though he hadn’t quite recovered. With one finger, I traced his cheekbone, down to his jaw.

  What had just passed between us was so different from his usual gentle, almost reverent touch. The intensity, the way Mason had taken me ... it should have been frightening. But it wasn’t. Instead, the fact that he’d needed to make sure I was his and his alone made me feel powerful. And loved. And brave enough to say what had been on the tip of my tongue for so long.

  “I love you, Mason.” I whispered the words that I couldn’t hold back any longer.

  His eyes fluttered open, and he stared at me, his expression unreadable. I drew in another breath and repeated what I’d said.

  “I love you.”

  “You love me.” Mason pushed up off the bed and stalked to his clothes, pulling on his jeans. “God, Rilla. How can you ... after what I just did? And now you say you love me? What the hell?”

  A lump rose in my throat. “But ... I do, Mason. I have for a long time.”

  “Goddammit, Rilla. I told you from the beginning that I could never ... offer you that.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “I was always honest with you.”

  I nodded, but numbness, centered in my chest, was spreading throughout my limbs.

  “You deserve more. But I can’t give it to you. I never said I could. This was supposed to be something that worked for both of us, going in with our eyes open. And you know what? You only think you love me, because I’m the first man you had sex with. I thought I could ... give you a life. Better than what you had. Even if I couldn’t be your prince charming, I could be your knight in shining armor.” He sighed. “I tried, Rilla. I tried my damnedest to be who you needed. But turns out it didn’t matter how much I tried, right? Because I ended up fucking you anyway.”

  “You didn’t hurt me tonight, Mason. At least, not when we were making—having sex. You didn’t hurt me until you opened your mouth just now.” I wrapped my skirt tight over my legs. “You said ... when we were ... you said I was yours. Why would you say that if you didn’t have some feelings for me?”

  “Of course I have feelings for you. I like you. I’ve always liked you. On some level, I even love you, but not the way you want. What you’ve done for me, with my mom and Piper—I can’t ever thank you enough for that. I could pretend, you know. Just now I could’ve told you I loved you, and you wouldn’t have known any difference. Ignorance is bliss, right?” He leaned over me, his face close to mine. “But then we’d both be living a lie.”

  The numbness had taken over. Everything I’d come to treasure over the past few months was unraveling here in front of me, and I couldn’t stay in the same room with Mason another moment. I’d gone from feeling safe, wanted and loved to feeling ... dirty and stupid.

  I stood up, forcing him to move away from me. “Mason ... I need some space. I’m going to sleep in the guest room tonight.” I turned to leave.

  “Rilla.” He spoke my name as though it’d been ground out of his chest. “What’re you going to do?”

  I didn’t face him again. “I made a commitment. To Piper, to Naomi, and to you. I just need some time to figure out how I’m going to make it work.”

  As I reached the door, he whispered one more time. “I’m sorry.”

  I paused for the space of a heartbeat. “So am I.”

  I WOKE UP THE next morning to a cold and empty bed. My arms reached for Rilla before I was fully conscious, and when I remembered why she wasn’t there, the lump of pain in my chest expanded just a little more.

  It was still early. Piper wasn’t even awake yet. I’d gotten into the habit of lingering at home in the mornings, enjoying the tim
e with my wife and my daughter, but today, I couldn’t get out of the house fast enough. I showered, dressed and headed for the club.

  Images from the night before flashed across my mind as I drove. Rilla’s face as she confronted that spineless dick Jonathan. Her eyes when I lifted her into my arms and carried her upstairs. Her body as I took her, intent on making sure she was mine. It had been primal, that need; my wife’s body belonged to me alone, and I was driven to prove that to her. But when she’d offered me her heart, too, I’d tossed it back in her face.

  Nice move there, moron.

  I’d known, even as I’d spoken the words, that what I was doing was wrong. The truth was, I’d been ashamed of how I’d taken her. After I’d promised myself that I’d always treat her with gentleness and care, I’d pounded into her small body without holding back. I’d hated what I did. I’d wanted her to be angry at me, to punish me, so I could push her away.

  But no. She’d chosen that moment to tell me that she loved me.

  It wasn’t a shock. Rilla didn’t have a poker face, and I’d known for a long time that her feelings were ... deep. Intense. But if I didn’t admit it to myself, I didn’t have to deal with it. Denial was a beautiful thing.

  I buried myself in work that morning. Thanks to Rilla’s plans and hard work, our lunch time hours were a huge success, and we’d had to begin taking reservations. Rilla’d had the idea to have live music on some days, too; not dance bands, but local musicians who didn’t mind playing for cheap. We’d had the local music teacher in with her harp, the woman who played the piano at the Lutheran church, and even a performance from the town’s barbershop quartet. They’d all been wildly popular, and I was working out a schedule to bring them back as well adding new performers to the lineup.

  Right before lunch, my phone buzzed with a text. I glanced at it and snatched it up fast when I saw Rilla’s name. My heart pounded; although she’d said she wasn’t going anywhere, part of me didn’t believe it.