The Bachelor Project
Page 18
He took her in his arms, pulled her from the couch onto the floor and kissed her before she’d even settled into his lap. She’d always liked her oriental carpet, but at the moment, she truly appreciated its potential. As their kiss intensified, she envisioned pushing Ethan down onto the plush surface, ripping open his uniform shirt and having her way with him.
Memories of their lovemaking filled her with heat and need. She saw the reflection of her own desires in his eyes. His hands molded her, reaching for her aching breasts.
Another discreet cough sounded behind them.
Robin’s eyes popped open. Ethan stiffened. Both turned to see what Gig could possibly want now.
But the scene that greeted them was right out of their teenage pasts.
Sylvia and Bess stood in the doorway, big smiles on their faces.
Robin dropped her head against Ethan’s shoulder and whispered, “The first time I met Bess in the fast-food restaurant where you two were eating dinner, I felt like I was back in the junior high school cafeteria. Now I feel like I’ve been caught necking in the car.”
“I’m sorry we interrupted, dear,” Sylvia said, stepping into the condo.
Robin looked up and smiled. “Your timing is just great,” she said with just a little bit of sarcasm.
“I know, I know.” Sylvia tsked. “But your door was wide open.”
Darn Gig. Didn’t he have the sense to close a door when he left?
“We came to see if Ethan had arrived yet,” Bess added.
“As you can see, Aunt Bess, I did come to Houston. It’s a good thing you warned me what was up. I think I arrived in the nick of time.”
“What are you talking about now?” Robin asked. “What warning?”
“Aunt Bess told me you might be getting back with your former fiancé. I wasn’t about to lose you to ol’ Gink, so I got here as soon as I could.”
Robin turned to Bess. “Where in the world did you get the idea I wanted to reunite with Gig?”
The older ladies turned to each other, looking guilty. “We thought there was a possibility,” Bess said weakly.
“A very slight possibility,” Sylvia added.
“What! I never said anything about Gig except that I wanted to apologize and explain one more time.”
“Then you two weren’t really hugging when I walked in?” Ethan asked.
“No, of course not. I mean, it was a hug, but like a sister and brother. Gig already has his eyes set on Bitsy Monroe.”
“That vacant-minded little—”
“Aunt Sylvia!”
She sniffed. “I’d say she and Warren will make a good couple.”
Robin crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes. “Matchmaking again, Aunt Sylvia?”
“What?” She turned to look at Bess. “I don’t know where she gets these ideas.” Linking her arm with her friend’s, Sylvia turned to leave. “I think we’d better leave these two alone.”
She turned to leave. “This time, we’ll shut the door. You never know who’s going to walk in around here.”
“You’re right,” Robin heard Bess say. “It’s barely noon on a Tuesday, and there’s more action here than in the retirement home!”
When Robin looked at Ethan’s amused expression, she burst out laughing. Hugging and giggling like two fools, they fell to the rug, wrapped in each other’s arms.
Ethan smoothed the hair back from her face with his two large, capable hands. “I think we’re finally alone.”
“I think you’re right, although I won’t promise for how long. Once my parents get wind of this, they might show up.”
He teased her with a nibbling kiss. “Any more old suitors expected today?”
“No,” she said, closing her eyes and savoring his touch, his weight, as she lay beneath him.
“No more urgent apologies to make?”
“No,” she whispered against his lips.
“Then let’s take advantage of the moment. We’ve been apart far too long.”
“Absolutely.” She nibbled on his lips and stroked his strong, solid back.
“And we’re not going to be apart again, are we?”
“Not for long.”
“And you’ll live with me in Ranger Springs?”
“Yes.” She wiggled against him, aching for his touch.
“Be my wife?”
“Yes.”
“Have our babies?”
She stilled, then grinned. “Yes.”
“I love you, Robin.”
“I love you, too, Ethan. Now be quiet and show me how much you missed me. I have an idea this is the last good use I’m going to get for a red, black and gold oriental rug.”
“You might be getting rid of the rug, sweetheart, but I’m here to stay.”
Epilogue
A small-town wedding was different in several ways from a big-city event, Robin learned as she looked out the window at Bretford House. She’d been hidden from her soon-to-be-bridegroom’s eyes in a small room used just for this purpose—and for the storage of additional napkins, tablecloths and Christmas decorations.
First, the ushers couldn’t control the crowd. Second, everyone believed they should be in the planning. And third, she would still get suspicious stares until she made an honest man of their beloved police chief.
“It’s almost time,” Great-aunt Sylvia said as she carried the flower-adorned veil across the room.
Robin let the lace curtain fall back into place. “I hope it’s not too hot outside.”
“Everyone’s dressed for the heat—except, of course, your mother. She simply wouldn’t listen when Bess tried to talk her out of panty hose and high heels.”
Robin smiled, remembering the look of horror on her mother’s face when trying to walk across the lawn earlier today, the spiky heels of her designer sandals sinking past the grass into the sandy soil. “She has her own opinion about what’s a proper wedding for her daughter.”
“Yes,” Sylvia said, reaching up to kiss her cheek, “but you had the good sense not to listen.”
Robin laughed. “How could I listen to her when half the town had already decided how I’d be getting married?”
“Nonsense,” Bess said, entering the room and closing the door quickly, as if someone might try to gain a peek at the bride before the ceremony. “You could have put your foot down.”
“I know, but I honestly enjoyed going along with the suggestions. This compromise is so much more appropriate for Ethan and me than a big church wedding in Houston.”
“And much more fun,” Sylvia said.
Robin smiled. She’d kept her flower girl and ring bearer from the first planned wedding, because her cousins’ children were looking forward to participating. But she’d explained to her bridesmaids that she’d rather have them attend as friends than stand up beside her in the September heat. After cutting down the guest list to immediate family and very close friends, she had a bride’s group that would just barely fit into the folding chairs on the lawn outside.
And the groom’s side was full with Ethan’s parents and family, a few friends from Dallas and many of the citizens of Ranger Springs. The town leaders and the regulars from the café were dabbing perspiration from their foreheads and no doubt gossiping away.
Those who couldn’t fit into the chairs stood across the fence in back. The scene outside reminded Robin, in some ways, of a high school football game more than a wedding. But overall, she couldn’t have asked for a better arrangement.
Life was certainly going to be different here than if she’d stayed in her own world. She’d sold her condo to Bess, who’d decided to move back to town to be near her friend. Robin’s Nest, a design studio and antique mall, would be opening in late November in the abandoned theater. Ethan’s house had almost completed its metamorphosis into a home with furnishings and colors they both agreed upon.
And they were getting married.
She looked around at two women she loved dearly, then out the window
once more at the townspeople who had adopted her as one of their own. For the first time in her life, she knew she’d found the place she truly belonged, with the one man she loved with all her heart.
WHERE IN THE HECK was Robin?
Ethan shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, chafing in his gray tuxedo, impatient for the ceremony to be concluded so he could change clothes, get on with the party, and then start his honeymoon with his bride.
His dad patted him on the arm. “She’ll be here in a minute, son.”
His best man, Gray Phillips, a good friend from Dallas who had relocated to Ranger Springs that summer, moved closer and said, “This isn’t going to be like the last time.”
“I know that,” Ethan replied testily.
He did know it deep in his heart, but he couldn’t help recalling the two other times he’d stood alone in front of a preacher. At Robin’s urging, he’d contacted both his former fiancées. They’d been reluctant to talk to him at first—especially Belinda, who suspected he wanted to yell at her. He hadn’t, of course. Monica was a bit cooler, as she’d always been, until he’d explained he finally understood, thanks to the woman he was going to marry. He’d gotten congratulations from both women. They’d never be great friends, but at least he’d made the effort.
Now he was ready to move on. He wanted to see Robin walk down that aisle, and right this second wouldn’t be too soon.
“You’re not thinking happy thoughts,” Gray whispered with just enough humor in his voice to make Ethan want to flatten him.
“If you want to be helpful, go find my bride. I’m melting out here.”
“September is still summer in Texas,” his dad told him, as though someone who’d grown up here all his life needed reminding.
The music started, jolting him to awareness. Suddenly the birds stilled, the insect buzzing faded away and even the low conversation of the many guests halted. Under the spreading canopy of the live oak trees beside Bretford House, all eyes turned to the creamy carpet bordered by pots of white daisies. A tiny flower girl, dressed in sunny yellow, tossed rose petals across the carpet for Robin to walk across…if she ever did walk out of Bretford House, Ethan thought.
“Shouldn’t she be coming out now?” he whispered urgently to his best man.
“The bridal march hasn’t started yet. Be patient.”
Easy for Gray to say. This wasn’t his wedding. To be more precise, this wasn’t the third time he’d almost gotten married. “Just wait, buddy. You’ll be standing here one day.”
“Sure I will. And pigs will fly.”
Before Ethan could come up with a snappy reply, the music he recognized so well from his prior trips to the altar flowed from the organist’s fingers like a powerful opiate through the summer day. The crowd sat straight and silent, appearing not to breath. He had to remind himself to inhale, exhale, as he watched the side doors to the restaurant.
And then she appeared, a vision in creamy lace and silk, holding tightly to the arm of her distinguished father. She looked nervous, Ethan thought. Maybe she wasn’t sure. Maybe she wouldn’t be happy living in a small town with a quiet, down-to-earth police chief.
Then her gaze found him across the expanse of grass and flowers, carpet and guests and makeshift rows of chairs, and she smiled.
And it was the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. His heart soared. His fears vanished.
He watched in awe and love as she neared him. The day, the wedding procession, even the music faded into the background. With a lump in his throat the size of Texas, he looped her arm through his and faced his bride.
“The third time’s a charm,” she whispered.
And he knew their lives would be wonderful from now until forever.
Thanks to former Mineola, Texas, Chief of Police Jerry Hirsch, and to HGTV for all those great decorating shows I watch when I should be writing.
ISBN: 978-1-4603-6776-6
THE BACHELOR PROJECT
Copyright © 2000 by Victoria Chancellor Huffstutler.
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