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Long Time Coming

Page 24

by Rochelle Alers


  “Not now, Micah. I’m working.”

  “How about later?”

  She glanced down at the large, well-groomed hand on her arm. Peering over her shoulder, her gaze inched up to a silver-and-black-striped silk tie, to his firm male mouth that conjured up a flood of memories that brought a wave of heat to her face.

  “I’ll still be working later.”

  His hold tightened as he turned her to face him.

  “Look at me, Tessa.” Her wet lashes fluttered before she met his eyes.

  “We’ve said all we needed to say the last time we were together. Now please leave me alone.”

  He took a step, forcing her back against a wall. “I can’t do that because I love you. And to echo the words of my brother-in-law, I wasn’t looking for love, but on October thirteenth when I walked into Signature Bridals for the first time I had no idea that love would be there waiting for me. I’ve run from love and women who professed to loving me because that was what my biological mother did. She told me that she loved me minutes before she walked out of my life. I’ve been screwed up in the head for years, and there’s no doubt I’m still a little crazy. After I left you I had a long talk with my father. He gave me a note Evelyn Howard had slipped into my jacket. That note helped me understand that she wasn’t able to take care of me, that she loved me enough to give me up so I would have a better life than she could give me.”

  Leaning closer, Micah shook his head. “I’m tired, Tessa. Tired of running from love. I want to stop and settle down with a woman who completes me. I want a family of my own that I can protect and provide for. I’m not perfect, but with you by my side I’ll work at trying to make you happy.”

  For the second time that night tears filled Tessa eyes and overflowed. Curving her arms under his shoulders, she held him. “We’ll talk about this later, Micah.”

  “You promise?”

  She sniffled. “Yes, I promise.”

  Reaching into a pocket of his dress trousers, he pulled out a handkerchief. Cradling her chin in his free hand, he gently blotted the moisture on her cheeks. When Tessa took the square of cotton from him he saw a flash of light from her wrist. He caught her hand, pushing back her sleeve.

  “You wore it.”

  Shaking her hand, Tessa let the bracelet slide down her wrist. Micah had given her a delicate diamond bracelet for Christmas. It was a close match to the necklace she’d worn the night they’d gone to the opera.

  “Yes, Micah, I wore it. Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

  “You’re beautiful, Tessa Whitfield. By the way, I like your hair.”

  Her lids lowered in a demure gesture as she inclined her head. “Thank you.”

  Someone cleared their throat and Micah and Tessa sprang apart like guilty children caught in a compromising situation. Edgar Sanborn, resplendent in formal dress, stood in the hallway staring at them. “Flirt on your own time, son,” he drawled, repeating what he’d said to him when Tessa first came to Franklin Lakes to play football with the Sanborns. “Tessa, is my son bothering you?”

  “No, sir.” Stepping around Micah, she went to find the DJ.

  Edgar dropped a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I hope you got it right this time.”

  “I believe I still have a chance.”

  “Perhaps she needs a little persuading.”

  “What are you talking about, Dad?”

  Edgar shook his head. “Damn, Micah, do I have you tell you everything?”

  “Yeah, Dad, sometimes you do.”

  Looping his arm around Micah’s neck, Edgar pulled him closer. “Let me tell you how I changed your mother’s mind and got her to agree to marry me.”

  With wide eyes, Micah listened as his father whispered in his ear how he’d convinced Rosalind that she would be making a grave mistake if she didn’t marry him. “No, Dad. That would never work with Tessa.”

  “How can you be sure it wouldn’t work?”

  “Because not only is it illegal it’s also immoral.”

  One pair of dark eyes regarded another equally dark pair with amusement. “You’re really as tight-assed as they say you are.”

  “They who?” There was a hint of defensiveness in Micah’s voice.

  “The folks at the Kings County D.A.’s office.”

  “Who of your old legal cronies do you have spying on me?”

  “No one in particular. But that’s not to say I don’t hear good things about you. You know that I’m proud of you.”

  The seconds ticked off. “I know that, Dad. As proud as I am to be your son.”

  Edgar tightened his grip. “Your mother and I have waited a long time to see all of our children married. Don’t make us wait too much longer for you.”

  A genuine smile softened Micah’s rugged face. “I won’t. And that’s a promise.”

  “Liar.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “You never make promises.”

  “Well, this is one I intend to keep.”

  Edgar watched Micah as he turned and walked back into the living room. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until he was forced to exhale.

  “Why do you look like the cat that swallowed a canary?”

  He shifted to find Rosalind several feet away. Had she overheard his conversation with their eldest son? He held out his arms and wasn’t disappointed when she came into his embrace. Lowering his head, he whispered what he’d overheard and seen.

  Rosalind’s blue eyes shimmered like brilliant topaz. “I knew it, I knew it,” she crooned over and over. “Darling, I just hope Micah gives us more time than Bridget did.”

  “Not to worry, sweetheart. Remember—the Whitfields are in the wedding business.”

  Rosalind looked at her husband. “How many grandchildren do you think Micah and Tessa will give us?”

  “Rosie! I don’t believe you’re counting grandchildren even before they’re married.”

  “I can dream, can’t I?” she quipped, winking at Edgar.

  “Let’s join the others before they come looking for us.”

  Arm in arm they returned to the living room in time for the photographer to snap what would become a memorable family picture.

  CHAPTER 22

  After toasts by the best man, the maid of honor and the parents of the bride and groom, Seth and Bridget cut the cake as waiters served slices of the confectionary masterpiece with the nontraditional fillings. The members of the eight-piece band moved into position on a raised dais when the tables in the ballroom were moved to the living room to provide adequate space for dancing.

  The extremely talented and versatile male singer picked up a portable microphone as the band opened with Sting’s classic “Fields of Gold.” Having removed her veil, Seth walked Bridget out onto the dance floor so they could share their first dance as husband and wife.

  Seth changed partners, dancing with his mother—an attractive brunette that didn’t look old enough to have children who were in their thirties—while Bridget danced with Edgar.

  Tessa watched Edgar’s tender expression as he gazed down at his daughter staring up at him. He’d given his princess a wedding to remember. The band alternated with the DJ, playing nonstop music from every decade beginning with the forties.

  Following Jewish tradition, Seth and Bridget were hoisted in chairs for the hora as friends and family members danced around them, and because Ephraim and Chavva Cohen, wearing crowns of orchids, were marrying off their last single child, they were honored with the mezinka, a congratulatory dance.

  Everyone was up and dancing when the DJ put on the “Cotton-Eyed Joe,” then the “Cha Cha Slide.” Tessa didn’t have time to react when she was pulled onto the dance floor by Abram and Micah. Caught up in the infectious rhythms, for a brief time she forgot that she was working. She dipped, swayed, threw her hands up, smiling whenever she met Micah’s gaze. Even Seth’s octogenarian grandparents tried keeping up as the minutes ticked down the old year. The crowded dance floor and th
e continuing flow of champagne equaled a successful reception.

  The volume lowered at the same time the chandelier dimmed. A table with a large flat-screen television was rolled into the ballroom. Waiters circulated, handing out flutes of champagne. There was complete silence as gazes were trained on the images of the boisterous throng in New York City’s Times Square filling out the screen. It was less than three minutes away from a new year.

  Tessa went completely still when she felt a hard body pressed to her back. “Where’s your champagne?”

  She smiled. “I’m working, Micah.”

  Angling his head, Micah pressed a kiss to the column of Tessa’s scented neck. “Can’t you forget work for a minute?”

  “Why?”

  “I’d like to ask you something.”

  “Will it take more than a minute?”

  “No.” Wrapping an arm around her waist, he eased her back. “Come with me.”

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “You’ll see. Let’s go so we can get back in time to see the ball drop.”

  Tessa followed Micah like a trusting child as he led her down a wide hallway, passing rooms with closed doors. At the end of the hallway he turned left and opened a door. He touched a wall switch and the space was filled with soft gold light from a table lamp.

  “This is my father’s study,” Micah explained before she could ask.

  The masculine room was filled with leather chairs, sturdy mahogany tables, a collection of model ships, shelves packed tightly with leather-bound books and a credenza with crystal decanters filled with an assortment of liquors.

  Pulling her closer, Micah put the flute to Tessa’s mouth, waiting until she took a sip. His gaze fused with hers when he took a deep swallow. Glancing over her head, he watched the hands on the fireplace mantel clock inch closer to midnight.

  “What do you want to talk about?”

  Tessa’s query pulled him back to why he’d wanted to get her alone. “I need to ask you something.”

  “What is it, Micah?”

  He took another swallow of the premium wine, buying time and watching the sweep hand ticking off the seconds. His gaze came to rest on her questioning eyes.

  “What are you doing with the rest of your life?”

  His question did not register on Tessa’s confused thoughts. Why, she asked herself, was Micah talking in riddles? “I don’t understand.”

  He moved closer. “What’s there not to understand?”

  “Why are you concerned about my life, Micah?”

  “Is it possible for me to become a part of your life?”

  She was totally bewildered at his behavior. Smooth-talking, silver-tongued, articulate Micah Sanborn was talking in circles. “Either you tell me exactly what you want or I’m leaving.”

  “Theresa Anais Whitfield, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  Tessa wavered, trying to comprehend what she was hearing. Micah had talked about settling down and starting a family. But for her that hadn’t translated into a formal proposal.

  She’d slept with a man she’d known a week, but that no longer was an issue.

  She’d fallen in love with a man she didn’t know as well as she should have, but that no longer mattered.

  She’d told herself that she wasn’t ready for marriage but knew that to be a lie.

  Resting her head on Micah’s shoulder, she closed her eyes. “Yes, Micah Edgar Sanborn, I will become your wife. But I’d like us to wait before announcing our engagement.”

  The joy Micah should’ve felt dissipated. He was over forty and he’d wasted half his life running from love. Now that he realized he loved Tessa enough to want to spend the rest of his life with her, he didn’t want to wait.

  “How long do you want to wait?”

  Easing back she smiled up at him. “Would you be opposed to a couple of months?”

  He shook his head. “No.” At first he’d thought she was going to say a year. “When would you want to get married?

  Her smile widened. “June. I’ve always wanted to be a June bride.”

  “This coming June?”

  She nodded.

  Setting down his flute, he wrapped both arms around her waist, lifting her off her feet until her head was level with his. He swung her around and around. “Thank you,” he whispered over and over against her parted lips.

  Looping her arms around Micah’s neck, Tessa opened her mouth to his passionate kiss, shocked at her own eager response when her tongue curled around his, tasting the lingering slightly sweet taste of champagne.

  They were still locked in a passionate embrace when a roar went up in another part of the house. It was now a new year. Micah and Tessa registered cries of “Happy New Year” at the same time. They shared a smile.

  “Happy New Year, Micah.”

  “Happy New Year to you, too, baby.” He kissed her again. “Can I interest you in a post-celebratory New Year’s Eve party after you get off from work?”

  “Whatever do you have in mind, Counselor?”

  His expressive eyebrows lifted. “How about checking in to a hotel with impeccable room service and a suite with a bathtub big enough for two?”

  Pressing her breasts to his chest, Tessa gave him a saucy grin. “And what do you plan for us to do in that hotel suite?”

  He lifted a shoulder under his wool jacket. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

  Tessa ran her hand down the length of Micah’s tie. “I still have at least an hour before I’m off, so that should give you time to come up with a plan as to how we’ll spend the first day of the new year together.” Pushing against his chest, she stepped around Micah and walked out of Edgar’s study with an exaggerated wiggle of her hips.

  Micah stood in the doorway, watching the sensual sway of her bottom. “I’m going to make love to you all night, all day, all afternoon, then all night again,” he called out to her. Tessa stopped, turned and lifted her tunic. He stared numbly at her breasts spilling over the lace of her demi-bra; the flesh between his legs hardened instantaneously.

  Groaning, he stumbled backward and sat down heavily in a chair, waiting for his erection to go down. He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer of thanks. He also offered up a prayer for Evelyn Howard, wherever she was, for Edgar and Rosalind for their love and support, then pushed off the chair, rising in one fluid motion, and left the study.

  As Micah neared the ballroom the sound of music grew louder, blending with voices raised in song. A knowing smile tilted the corners of his mouth as he saw Tessa talking to his mother. In another six months Tessa would gain a mother-in-law and Rosalind another daughter.

  Tessa saw him staring at her. She gave him a demure smile before lowering her gaze.

  It had been a long time coming, but Micah Sanborn felt an astonishing sense of total fulfillment for the first time in his life.

  * * *

  Tessa pressed her face to Micah’s moist chest amid waves of ebbing ecstasy, unable to believe what’d just passed between them. She’d known of the strong passions within her, but it had taken the man holding her to his heart for her to completely let go of her inhibitions.

  “I just changed my mind, Micah.”

  “What about, baby?” His voice sounded if he were a long way off.

  “I don’t want to wait to get engaged.”

  Micah sat up as if hit by a stun gun. “What!” The single word exploded from his mouth.

  Tessa sat up and touched the side of his face. “I changed my mind about waiting to get engaged. I want everyone to know that I love you—”

  “And that I want to spend the rest my life with you,” Micah said, finishing her statement. “We’ll go look for a ring whenever you’re free, then I’m going to Mount Vernon to meet your family. And, knowing my mother, she’ll want to invite the Whitfields over for Sunday dinner.”

  “Will they be expected to play football?”

  He chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest. “They can, but o
nly if they want to.”

  “Why are you giving them a choice when you didn’t give me one?”

  “How else was I going to cop a free feel, Tessa Whitfield?” His hand moved from her hip up to a breast.

  “You are a nasty old man, Micah Sanborn.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so.”

  “But you like this nasty old man, don’t you, baby?”

  Tessa crawled up on his lap, her arms going around his neck. “I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

  They held each other, hearts beating as one, until Micah eased Tessa down to the mattress and pulled the sheet up over their naked bodies. She curled into the curve of his body, a gentle peace silently communicating that she’d chosen the right man to become her friend, her lover, her husband and the father of the children she hoped to share with him.

  * * * * *

  Deputy Sheriff Seth Collier wasn’t looking for love, but when the beautiful new doctor in town, Natalia Hawkins, moves in next door, he’s more than tempted to change his mind. But Natalia is coming off a bad breakup and she’s not sure she’ll ever trust another man again.

  Keep reading for a sneak peek of

  The Sheriff of Wickham Falls

  the newest installment in national bestselling author Rochelle Aler’s

  new Wickham Falls Weddings miniseries,

  available September 2018 from Harlequin Special Edition!

  CHAPTER ONE

  Tap! Tap! Tap!

  Natalia Hawkins opened one eye and then the other, and stared up at the ceiling in her bedroom; staccato tapping had jolted her out of her much-needed sleep, and she wasn’t ready to accept that she’d moved into a house with a woodpecker living in a tree on the property.

  Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap!

  There it was again. After sitting up and sweeping off the sheet and lightweight blanket, Natalia swung her legs over the side of the bed. As soon as her bare feet touched the floor she knew she would be up for the day. As a former ER doctor working in an overcrowded, understaffed Philadelphia municipal hospital, she was used to performing her duties on limited amounts of sleep.

 

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