by Gina Wilkins
She didn’t seem to care about any of that. Her mouth was as avid as his, her hands as greedy. And when he ripped off his shirt, draped it over the counter and lifted her onto it, she spread her knees eagerly so that he could step between them.
He took her there, on the counter, using protection he carried in his pocket more from habit than anticipation. They didn’t even undress, removing no more than necessary. It was rough and fast and awkward—and Mac had never needed anything more in his entire life.
His knees were weak when they finished. He had to brace himself against the counter on either side of her, his forehead resting against hers. His breathing was loud in his own ears, seeming to echo in the cavernous, empty kitchen.
When he was sure he could speak coherently, he said, “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
Her arms were still around his neck, her face against his. “I know. But I’m glad it did.”
He pulled back a few inches to look at her. “I didn’t want gratitude from you before, Sharon. I don’t want sympathy from you now.”
She smiled and laid her hand against his face. “You always underestimate yourself.”
He gave her a faint smile in return. “That isn’t a mistake I’ll ever make with you.”
“See that you don’t,” she answered, her tone a little saucy.
He kissed her lingeringly, knowing he had just implicitly committed to staying in Honoria for a while. He didn’t know what was going to happen, exactly—with the McBrides or with Sharon. But Sharon had asked him to give them all a chance to find out what the future held for them.
It seemed he still had at least one more question left to answer.
EPILOGUE
MAC STOOD in the master bedroom of the Garrett house, surveying the room with deep satisfaction. Above his head an old-fashioned ceiling fan turned lazily, stirring the humid, late-August air. Early-evening sunlight streamed through the windows and the paned glass door beside the big fireplace, casting a soft glow and extending his shadow across the gleaming wooden floor.
It was a beautiful room, he thought, almost begging for furniture and occupancy. His team had done a great job in here, as they had with the other parts of the house that had been completed thus far. The renovation was more than half finished. The place would be ready for habitation by Christmas.
“I thought I would find you in here. This seems to be your favorite place to think.”
He turned with a smile to greet Sharon as she walked into the room. She had changed out of the fancy dress she’d worn to Trent’s wedding earlier that day, and now wore jeans and a T-shirt, as he did. They had been invited to a casual dinner later at Caleb and Bobbie McBride’s house with Tara and Trevor and their families. Trent and Annie had already left for their honeymoon. Sharon and Mac had decided to meet here, since Mac had wanted to check on some things that had been done that morning.
“There’s a peaceful feeling in here. It does help me think,” he admitted. “I believe it’s my favorite room in the house.”
“It’s definitely mine.” She wandered over to the fireplace, as she often did, and rested her hand on the mantelpiece, looking inside as if she could visualize a fire burning there, even on a very warm day like this one.
She belonged in this room, he mused, watching her. It suited her perfectly. Just as he had discovered how well his bed suited her in their past few weeks together.
He would soon find out if she agreed with him.
She spoke before he could. “The wedding was lovely, wasn’t it?”
He felt his mouth twist. “Flowers and music and cute little kids in ruffled dresses. They’d have been just as married if they’d stood in front of a justice of the peace wearing shorts. From the expression on Trent’s face most of the morning, I think that’s exactly what he would have preferred.”
Sharon laughed softly. “You men just don’t appreciate romance.”
He shrugged.
Her amusement faded into sincerity. “Thank you for going with me, Mac. I know you were reluctant, but I thought it was important for you to be there. And I think Trent was glad you came, even though he can’t admit it just yet.”
Mac’s newly discovered half brothers were still having trouble getting over their anger that Mac had deceived them so thoroughly when he’d first arrived in town. Jamie had told Mac that Trevor was having trouble learning to trust people again after the painful scandal with his first wife and their fickle Washington, D.C. cronies. What he had seen as betrayal on Mac’s part—and Caleb’s—had hit him hard.
Trent, too, was still reeling from so many changes in his life. The end of his air force career, the occasionally inconvenient physical limitations resulting from his accident, his new career as a carpenter, falling so deeply in love for the first time in his footloose life—the acceptance of a half brother, one who just happened to be his employer, hadn’t been easy for him. He hadn’t understood why Mac had felt it necessary to approach them with such subterfuge, rather than simply making his agenda known from the start. It had been Caleb who had asked his sons to forgive Mac—and to try to understand what Mac had been through. How much he had suffered while they had grown up so loved and protected by the father Mac had never known.
Mac didn’t want their sympathy—but he was beginning to want their acceptance. He was tired of being alone. He needed family. And he thought they would get there, eventually. It would just take time and patience, on all their parts. Today had been a giant step in the right direction.
“No matter how he grumbled about all the fuss, I’ve never seen Trent look happier,” Sharon said, fully convinced that everything would work out for the best now that the truth was out.
Trent had looked more than happy, Mac mused. He’d looked deeply, thoroughly satisfied—as if he’d just been given everything he’d ever wanted.
It had been an interesting day, all in all. Mac had been aware that he had drawn almost as much attention as the bride and groom, at least from the unrelated guests in attendance. He’d been aware of them watching him, looking in vain for resemblances between him and the McBrides. Watching him with Sharon, wondering what was going on between them. Eavesdropping on his conversations with Caleb and Bobbie, curious about that relationship, as well.
Mac knew they hadn’t heard anything to start the rumor mills running again. He and the McBrides had been congenial, friendly, polite. As for Bobbie—well, he’d never met a woman exactly like her. Quite frankly, she rather terrified him. Once she’d gotten over the shock of finding out who he was, she had brusquely decided to accept him. And for Bobbie McBride, acceptance included full entitlement to giving advice and directions—all for his own good, of course.
Despite his healthy wariness of the woman, Mac actually liked her, oddly enough.
As for Caleb—he was trying very hard to figure out how to be a new father to a fully grown man. Their relationship was still awkward, to say the least—but a bond had formed. Though he was still cautious, and still dealing with a lot of old anger, Mac was beginning to have a tenuous hope that the bond would only grow stronger during the years ahead. He would never have the relationship with Caleb that Trevor and Trent had, of course—but maybe they could form their own connection. And maybe it would be a bonus for both of them in the long run.
Tara had had the hardest time dealing with Caleb’s actions thirty-three years ago. She had to know that it was only because of her arrival that Caleb and Bobbie had stayed together back then. Mac suspected that she had idolized her father, placed him on a pedestal that no mere human was worthy of, and it hadn’t been easy for her to learn that Caleb had flaws just like everyone else. But Mac believed the wounds would heal, again with time. Already Tara was making friendly overtures toward him, letting him know she held no grudges against him for what had been done to all of them so long ago. She was a strong and gracious woman, and she had a heart big enough to accept another brother once the bruises faded.
It was a strong family with
very close ties. They would survive this scandal, just as they had weathered so many other trials in the past.
“Did you notice how happy Annie looked that her mother came to her wedding?” Sharon asked, running a fingertip along the mantel as if looking for dust. “She wasn’t sure her mother would have the courage to defy her father, who disapproves so strongly of Annie’s marriage, but I could tell she was thrilled to see her there. Maybe that family is healing, as well. It’s important for families to learn to forgive and move on. To be together. I know I was glad to have my mother and Brad with me today, our family all together again to celebrate our friends’ good fortune.”
She wasn’t just talking about Annie Stewart’s family, of course, or her own. She was referring to the McBrides, as well—letting Mac know, as she had so many times before, that she believed it would all work out for the best. Her unflagging optimism was one of the things he admired most about her.
Changing the subject, she glanced up at the slowly turning ceiling fan. “They’ve done a wonderful job in here, haven’t they? And the rest of the house is really shaping up fast. It will be ready to put on the market in no time.”
“Do you think I would have any trouble selling it?” he asked, watching her closely.
“No.” She sighed wistfully. “I’m sure it will sell very quickly. It’s such a beautiful home.”
“Still lusting after it for yourself?”
She wrinkled her nose as he reminded her of that early conversation between them. “Don’t I wish.”
“Do you wish that, Sharon? Would you be happy living in this house?”
Her smile faded as she turned to him. “I’m not quite sure what you’re asking.”
He cleared his throat, oddly nervous now. “I’m asking if you’d like to live here. With me. In this house. As my wife.”
It wasn’t the most coherent proposal in history. Definitely not the most poetic. He’d probably just confirmed her earlier declaration that he had no appreciation for romance. But if sincerity carried any weight with her, it had come directly from his heart.
Apparently, earnestness was as touching to her as frills and flowers. Her eyes filled with tears.
“Don’t cry,” he ordered with quick male panic. And then added uncertainly, “Unless that’s a good thing, of course.”
She dashed at her cheek with one hand, smiling shakily. “That depends.”
“What do you mean? I just proposed to you.”
She stayed where she was, watching him with a puzzling air of expectancy.
“Well? Are you accepting or not?”
“I don’t know.”
He frowned at her. “What do you mean, you don’t know? Why don’t you know?”
“You haven’t told me yet why you’re asking.”
He sighed. Apparently, she was going to insist on the frills, after all. Once again, he spoke from his soul. “I’m asking you to marry me because I love you. I fell in love with you when I pulled you out of that river and I’ve fallen more in love with you every day since. I expect I’ll continue to fall harder every day I’m fortunate enough to spend with you in the future. I want you to be my friend, my partner, my lover, and the mother of my children. I will give you my absolute loyalty and undying affection in return. I will be a good son-in-law to your nice, ditzy mother, and a big brother and role model for Brad. I believe I have a lot to offer you, Sharon—but so much more to gain if you say yes.”
He’d started her tears flowing again, but he didn’t try to stop them this time. He’d figured out that they were, indeed, a good thing.
“You had me when you told me you love me,” she whispered. And then she threw herself into his arms.
“Is this a yes?” he asked, just to make sure.
“Yes. Definitely yes.”
He covered her mouth with his before she could change her mind.
ISBN: 978-1-4603-6244-0
YESTERDAY’S SCANDAL
Copyright © 2000 by Gina Wilkins.
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