Unspoken

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Unspoken Page 24

by Dee Henderson


  He dropped a kiss on her hair. And felt her tremble just a bit. “I have something for you.” He tugged the ring out of his shirt pocket. There were better places than the front steps to his home, but he wasn’t risking the moment or what felt like a more than slightly fragile mood on her part. He reached for her left hand and slid the diamond ring onto her finger.

  “It’s lovely,” she whispered, turning it so the diamond caught the sunlight.

  “Tears are okay. I’ve got Kleenex stuffed in that pocket too.”

  She half laughed and wiped her eyes with both palms. “When did you buy it?”

  “Before I asked you to consider marrying me.”

  “You were pretty sure of a yes.”

  “No, but I had a lot of hope.”

  She turned the ring and offered a slight smile. “You chose well.”

  She glanced at him, looked away, bit her lip. “I’m afraid I have one hard thing to ask.”

  He interlaced his fingers with hers, seeking to reassure. “One I’ll accept,” he promised. “What is it?”

  “I want a church wedding, because it’s important to me to be married before God. But I don’t want anyone there. Not Ellie or John, not your family and friends. Just us.”

  The request surprised him. He thought about it and his smile faded. “I think you would like Ellie there, John, but can’t ask that without being unfair to me. Do you want a private wedding because of why we are marrying? Or because eighteen years of staying out of the public eye means you don’t want the wedding announced and known?”

  “Both.”

  It saddened him to think about a wedding without his brothers as best men, without his parents in the first row, without his sisters and their families there.

  “I know how difficult a thing this is I’m asking.”

  “I understand the reason for it,” he replied quietly. She was embarrassed by the why of their marriage. She didn’t want to have to pretend in front of his family and friends, their guests, that the wedding was because they loved each other. It was reality, and the first ache of many he would need to absorb.

  He took a deep breath, let go of what he had hoped. This situation wasn’t ideal, but he wasn’t going to make it harder on her than it had to be. He gently traced his hand down her cheek, turned her face toward him. She’d said yes. The rest was going to be what it needed to be. “What I’d like is for you to marry me, Charlotte,” he said softly, “with the people you know and trust, Ellie and John, standing with us, with a handful of photographs taken—you in a nice wedding dress and me in a tux that we can have on the mantel and I can have on my desk. I’ll talk to my parents, explain there are some security concerns, that we want to plan a celebration for later, where friends and family can take part—maybe on an anniversary sometime in the future.”

  “They’ll accept that?”

  “They will because I ask.”

  She looked at him a long time, then said, “Thank you.”

  He ruffled her hair and deliberately sought to lighten the mood. “In a few years it’s not even going to be something anyone remembers, how we chose to marry.” He reached for both her hands and smiled. “This is a very nice day, Charlotte, one I plan to celebrate with you in a bit. Let’s get a few things sorted out. Would it be possible to get the rest of the estate—Graham Enterprises, the coins, the items the New York people are handling for you—finished before we get married?” He loved the sound of that last phrase.

  She visibly relaxed with the practical question. “I’ve got only twenty-three storage units left,” she said. “The lawyers in New York are all but finished, and I’ve had the paperwork to sell the rest of Graham Enterprises to the employees on my desk for the last month. It’s just waiting for my signature.”

  She was closer to having things concluded than he had realized. “I’ve still got about fifteen hundred individual coins to buy from you,” he said, “and a quarter of vault twenty-two remains to be cleared. If you can price the individual coins, I’ll raise syndicate money to buy them all now, then haul the coins from the vault. If I have to I can park a couple of trucks in secure storage until we’re ready to unload the coins at the prep room. ”

  “A good plan,” she agreed. “It would be a huge weight lifted off me if the rest of the estate could be dealt with before we marry.”

  Bryce wanted that clean slate with her. “Then let’s see if we can get that done. I’ll also make arrangements to sell controlling interest in Bishop Chicago to Devon and Sharon. We’ll both start our new life free and clear. We’ll finish the estate, get free of obligations, then have a private wedding. I’d like to talk to you about your thoughts on a honeymoon, but before we get to that, can I have your evening? In hopes you would say yes, I’ve got plans for us in mind.”

  “Sure. I can go by Ellie’s and change.”

  “You’re fine. I’m the one who needs to get to casual for the night.” He’d change and then he had a few phone calls to make.

  Bryce didn’t tell her where they were going that evening, simply suggested she could leave the tote bag with her sketchbook at his place. He pulled into a parking lot via the alley to keep the suspense another few minutes. He shut off the engine and put his hand on her arm as she reached for the door. “Before we go in, I want to have a conversation about something, Charlotte.”

  She turned to face him. “All right.”

  “After you hear what I have to say, you’re welcome to ask me to drive around the block so we can talk about it a bit more before we go inside. I didn’t mean to catch you at the last minute with this. If I’d planned it better, I would have brought it up earlier this evening.”

  She nodded and settled back in the seat. “I’ll ask for more time if I need it.”

  He didn’t want to break the good mood of the last hour’s conversation, so he tried to choose his words with care. “The people here tonight will assume we’re getting married for the usual reason of being in love. There are only four people who know the will requires you to marry. ”

  Her smile faded. “We had this conversation last fall.”

  “What were words then becomes something practiced now. We’re going to spend the evening together as a couple, and at the center of attention. I don’t want to cross a line you’re uncomfortable with—”

  Charlotte interrupted his words. “I push back, Bryce. I start feeling crowded or uncertain about a situation with you, I’m going to push you back, probably do it deftly so it doesn’t look like that to everyone else, but I guarantee you’ll get the message. Try not to startle me from behind. Don’t kiss me unless I agree to it first, and probably don’t tease me or flirt too much.” She met his gaze, looked worried for a moment. “This is going to be awkward. I’m sorry. Neither of us wants the facts behind our marriage arrangement to be known, and I’ll do everything I can to keep up appearances.”

  He winced a bit at her last statement. “Charlotte, I’m celebrating tonight. I want to marry you. I’m delighted you said yes. I’m going to enjoy every minute of this evening, and I want you to be able to do so as well. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, and I know I unintentionally might.” He was muddling this horribly. He reached for her hands and gave a rueful smile. “Relax with me. That’s what I meant to say, and what I’d like you to be able to do.”

  He waited until he felt her hands relax. “This will be the toughest event for us to get in sync with each other, but once we’re through this, it will get easier. I’m worried that I might cross your line tonight and make this difficult for you, and I don’t want to do that. But if I mess up tonight, give me the benefit of the doubt. With some practice, I’ll get it right.”

  Her hands tightened on his. “Okay.”

  He caught her gaze and realized she had turned amused.

  “We’re good, Bryce,” she promised. “Let’s go celebrate. And thanks for inviting our friends to join us. It’s a nice surprise. ”

  He smiled. “Stay put while I come around fo
r your door.”

  He took her hand as they crossed the parking lot.

  “What is this place?”

  “Somewhere you and I will likely spend a lot of time after we’re married.”

  Once inside, he took her jacket and directed her toward the corner table. The place was semi-packed, mostly with a neighborhood crowd. The smell of Italian food was rich in the air. “Charlotte, you remember Ann and Paul Falcon.”

  “Of course.”

  “Ellie and John will be here soon.”

  She was glancing around with interest. “We’re playing pool?”

  “Eating some food, playing a bit of pool. A little birdie told me you’re good at the game. This place is called Cues, and it’s a comfortable family-friendly place for spending an evening. I’m talking Paul into a rematch of darts since he won the last match. Devon and his wife, Sharon, are at the far table—I’ll introduce you shortly. My parents will be by later this evening, along with my sisters and their families. We’ll have the news spread before the night is over without making a big deal about it. Jackie is fixing us a special dessert. I told her we would head over to Falcons about eleven.”

  “This is nice, Bryce. Really nice.”

  “Just enjoy the evening. A low-key celebration. My preferred kind.”

  “Mine too.” She squeezed his hand.

  The two joined the family and friends Bryce had rounded up on the spur of the moment, and his quiet introductions of “my fiancée” drew smiles and friendly jests, laughter and hugs.

  It was later, during his darts game with Paul, that he heard the first caution. His friend said softly, “You and Ruth Bazoni. Are you sure about this, Bryce?”

  He let the dart fly, watched it hit the bull’s-eye. “I’m sure,” he said.

  Bryce held the door for Charlotte, reached around her to turn on lights at his place. It was after midnight and he could feel the pleasant tiredness after an evening with friends and family.

  “The evening was good—really good.” Charlotte let out a breath as she stepped out of her shoes. “But I’m glad it’s over and everyone knows.”

  Bryce ran a comforting hand down her back. “The same. I’m getting us some coffee before I take you to Ellie’s.”

  “I could use some.” She came into the kitchen with him.

  “We’re going to have to come up with a different signal,” he mentioned. “You turned your ring all evening—did it again just now.”

  She glanced at her hand. “I’m not used to wearing a ring. It’s going to take a while to get comfortable with it.”

  “Can you wink?”

  “Not well. We don’t need a signal. I’ll just say, ‘Kiss me, Bryce.’”

  He smiled. “That’s clear enough.”

  She pulled over the flower vase on the counter and removed the blooms beginning to fade. “I enjoyed playing pool with you.”

  “John mentioned you were good. He forgot to mention you were really good.”

  “He taught me the game. He wanted me to get comfortable with a noisy, crowded room of guys—the definition of a pool hall—and still be able to keep my train of thought. The first several attempts lasted about ten minutes before I had to leave, and the others were pretty exhausting. He didn’t know my coping skills would be to block out everything but my next pool shot. That I’m good can be chalked up to ten years of playing pool with him to get comfortable with that many guys, that much noise.”

  Bryce, reaching for the coffee mugs, paused. It was one of the more personal facts she’d told him about her past. It was painful to hear. But he could see John’s logic. “Did the crowd bother you tonight?”

  “No. It was actually nice to realize I was comfortable there. It’s progress.”

  “Ellie likes to play pool too.”

  “She used to go with John and me, and she’s always been good. Now it’s their version of going on a date. I don’t think she’s into pool as much as she is into flirting with him. Who won your dart game—you or Paul?”

  “I did. We go back and forth at the board.”

  “Ann said she encourages it—you and Paul hanging out together.”

  “She does, and I appreciate it. He’s got family he’s very close to, some good friends from work, but the job he carries has some heavy weight to it. Ann likes the fact I’m not going to be asking him about a case. I’m going to talk coins, sports, and occasionally hit him with a question about God that I might be wrestling with preparing for a class. I’m the normalcy of life Paul doesn’t get in his day-to-day job.”

  “Is he your best friend?”

  Bryce stopped, surprised, and gave it some thought. “Good question. I don’t know that I have one, Charlotte. Paul ranks high up there as a good friend, as does Ann, surprisingly. She’s hard to get to know, but I like her a lot. If I had to say best friend . . . I guess I’d still put my father in that slot. I trust Dad’s advice and his perspective on things. My brothers and I are close, but we don’t get to see each other often, given their jobs.”

  “I’m glad about your dad, Bryce. Ann and I could get to be pretty good friends. She’s got that quality to her that says she listens well.”

  “It would be nice if that did work out. Ann and Paul would be good friends we could spend time with. The same with John and Ellie. We’re both comfortable with them.”

  He brought over a cup of coffee, rested his arms against the counter as he held his. “I’m glad you said yes.”

  She gave a small smile back. “I’m starting to feel that way too.”

  “When do you want to get married?”

  “I’ve been thinking about April the tenth, a Thursday evening. It’s enough time to get the work done with the estate, so the only thing after we marry is the Legacy Trust. We’d still have a month in case something goes wrong and it needs rescheduling.”

  “Then April tenth it is.”

  She opened her tote bag. “If you don’t mind an early wedding present . . .”

  He took the ribbon-wrapped box she held out and, at her nod, opened it.

  A 38-O half-dollar. One of only twenty minted in New Orleans in 1838. It was uncirculated, in stunning condition.

  “Charlotte. I don’t know what to say.” She’d given him a six-hundred-thousand-dollar coin. She wouldn’t think of that, just the fact it had been one of the two coins he’d mentioned he most wished he owned. She couldn’t have chosen something more significant as a personal gift. He looked over at her for a long moment, offered a smile to go with the words he finally decided on. “It is absolutely perfect.”

  “I like to see you struggling for words.” She grinned and rested her chin on her hand. “Pencils. Every anniversary for the next fifty years. Give me a nice new set of pencils.”

  “I could do that.”

  “Maybe birthdays too.”

  He laughed. “I won’t forget.” It was what was important to her—her art—as coins had been to him for the last decade. “They’ll need to be expensive pencils.”

  “They are. You haven’t walked into a good art-supply store yet. Good pencils are ridiculously expensive and they come in a couple hundred different colors.”

  He loved her return laughter and the way it lit up her face and reached her eyes. He wanted to kiss the woman. He wanted her comfortable enough with him he could lean forward and kiss her, for her to accept that. And the thought ran him smack into the reality of her history. It was going to be difficult, the first several years, remembering what this was. She held his gaze, and her smile faded. She reached over and ran her hand down his arm.

  “I’ve been thinking about your honeymoon offer—anywhere I want us to go, and someone else makes all the arrangements,” she said softly. “The idea of that sounds like such a luxury. There will be a day I want to take a trip like that. Go to London, or maybe Spain, with you—be tourists.” She interlaced her fingers with his. “But I was thinking for our honeymoon I would really like to stay home.

  “I’d like to get comfortab
le in this house, not have company or guests or things to think about, just some sleep and good food and time to decompress, for about five weeks. There will be legal matters we’ll have to deal with. After all of it is finished, and life can be of our choosing once more—then I want that vacation with you.”

  He didn’t mind her request; he simply answered the uncertainty he could hear. “We’re going to have a good life together, Charlotte.”

  “Ellie says it’s just early wedding nerves, but what would she know?”

  Bryce smiled and tightened his hand. “Can I talk you into kissing me good-night on Ellie’s front steps?”

  “I’ll think about it between here and there.”

  “You could consider it practice, in case you decide you want to kiss me on our wedding day.”

  “I haven’t decided about that ‘you may now kiss the bride’ phrase yet either.”

  Charlotte wished she had said yes to kissing Bryce good-night. For days that moment had been running through her mind as an unanswered question. She kept seeing him in that quiet moment between when she had unlocked the door and when he had stepped back with a soft good-night. He hadn’t crowded her, hadn’t pushed. He’d simply stepped into her space, taken her hands, and given her time to think if she wanted to accept the invitation to kiss him good-night. She’d lost her nerve, given a small shake of her head, and he’d stepped back with that comfortable smile and quiet “Good night.” The moment was haunting her. He wouldn’t make the decision for her, and she didn’t have the courage to say yes.

  “You’re thinking too hard.”

  She glanced over at Ellie.

  The Graham Enterprises warehouses were busy, trucks lined up along the road, and Ellie waited for one to pass before pulling out of the administration building parking lot. “You’ve been thinking too much ever since you said yes to getting married,” Ellie added. “Stop it. Life will be fine.”

 

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