Our Now and Forever (Ardent Springs #2)

by Terri Osburn

“We can’t go back and change what we did,” he added, taking advantage of Snow’s silence. “But we can go ahead and do the part we skipped.”

  Thin brows narrowed over her golden eyes. “You’re trying to confuse me. Unless you have a time machine, we can’t change anything.”

  “Not change,” he clarified. “Think of it as completing the middle step.”

  She jerked back. “You’re calling a do-over?”

  It was Caleb’s turn to throw his hands in the air. “I’m saying we go back to dating.”

  “But we’re married,” she argued. He wasn’t sure if she was playing slow on purpose or trying to throw him off.

  Regardless, he was certain this was the answer.

  “Listen to what I’m saying.” Caleb pressed a hand on each side of Snow’s knees and held her gaze. “You said we went from newly dating to man and wife.”

  “Yes, we did. And that’s why—”

  He held up a hand. “Hold on. We can fix that by going back to dating.”

  “Meaning get a divorce and then date each other?”

  Caleb smiled. “According to the people in this town, we aren’t married.”

  Another furrowed brow. “Then you’re suggesting we pretend we’re not married, which is what we’re already doing. Which means we have to lie to everyone.”

  “Look,” he said, rising to his feet, “we both know that we could end this marriage with a couple signatures on a document and no one in this town would ever be the wiser. Add the fact that we’ve been apart a hell of a lot longer than we were ever together, and regardless of our legal situation, we aren’t a married couple at all.”

  “I’m not sure,” she said, “but I think you just agreed with what I’ve been saying for the last twenty-four hours.”

  “I do agree,” Caleb said, watching suspicion cloud Snow’s features. He was determined to make her see that they could still make this work. All they needed was a little time. “Right this minute, maybe we aren’t two people who should be married. But,” he added, “if we continue dating, picking up where we left off before the Vegas trip, we could get there.”

  “So we not only lie to other people, but lie to ourselves.” Snow shook her head. “You’re grasping at straws, Caleb.”

  Dropping onto the couch, he asked, “Before that trip to Vegas, did you want out?”

  Her jaw tightened. “No.”

  “So you liked me?”

  “Yes,” she conceded, “but I’m struggling to remember why at the moment.”

  Twisting a curl around his finger, Caleb said, “I liked you, too. And I still do. Based on what just happened in the bedroom, I’d say we still have a spark.”

  Snow pushed his hand away and tucked the curl behind her ear. “We always had a spark, Caleb, but sexual chemistry isn’t enough to build a marriage on.”

  “We have more than that, and you know it. This morning, after the auction, you felt it, too.” Caleb took her hand in his. “Let me remind you, Snow. Let’s see what would have happened if we’d never boarded that plane.”

  She didn’t look happy, and she sure didn’t look like a woman about to change her mind. But then she shook her head. “I knew this was going to happen.”

  “Is that a yes?” he asked, hope filling his chest.

  “We go back to dating. We talk about kids and life and where we each see our lives going, as if we never took those vows,” she said. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

  “Yes,” he answered, feeling the sweet thrill of victory.

  “But what if we don’t see our lives going in the same direction? Are you prepared for that?”

  He wanted to tell her that of course they’d see things the same, but that would mean he really was the guy she’d described. The one who didn’t listen and dished out platitudes that meant nothing. Though the words tasted bitter on his tongue, Caleb said, “If we don’t see our lives running together, then we’ll go our separate ways. That’s the deal.”

  As she had that morning, Snow visibly relaxed. The girl he’d whisked off to Vegas was back.

  “Okay, then,” she said with a nod, “we’re back to dating. But there’s one issue.”

  After gaining so much ground, Caleb didn’t like the step back. “What’s that?”

  “We weren’t living together before we left for Vegas.”

  “Right,” he agreed. This was a bump he hadn’t seen coming. “But we were spending so much time together that we were practically living together.”

  Snow hemmed and hawed over that statement for several seconds. “I suppose it would look odd to the locals for me to bring you here on the premise of getting engaged, but then make you stay in a hotel or something.”

  “Considering you left with no warning, sent me on a wild-goose chase, and then dragged me up to this hole-in-the-wall town to find you?” he said. “A little room and board is the least you can do.”

  “Hey, now,” Snow said. “We’re pretending none of that happened, remember?”

  “Now who’s looking for a do-over?” he asked with a smile, happy to be standing on lighter ground. “As of right now, we’re a couple who really like each other, who’ve been conducting a long-distance relationship.” Holding up one finger, he added, “Which is technically true.”

  Snow picked up the story. “But now we’re considering something more permanent, and you’ve come to live with me so we can see if we really are cut out for each other.”

  “Again, all true,” he said. And if they were still in the considering stage, he could keep the ring to himself until the time was right. Snow deserved a real proposal. A story she could tell their children someday that was more than them sitting on a couch after a fight and him sliding a ring on her finger for looks alone.

  Brushing his damp hair off his forehead, Snow said, “Then I guess we have a plan.” She still looked like a woman waiting for the sky to fall, but at least she wasn’t demanding he get out. “Now, are those dumplings as good as they smell?”

  A smile split his face as a warmth spread through his chest. “I was waiting for you to get here to find out.”

  “I’ll get the bowls,” she said, hopping off the couch.

  Caleb watched his wife go through the motions of dishing up their dinner, her moves graceful and compact. Tonight had been a close call. If he wasn’t careful, Caleb would find himself eating crow and having to admit that his parents were right. That he was a spontaneous fool who leapt before thinking.

  Going forward, Caleb would make sure he listened to everything Snow had to say. Though he had a funny feeling that picking up on what she didn’t say would be the real challenge.

  After dinner, during which she’d managed to stay relaxed through sheer force of will, Snow slid off to the bathroom for a long, hot bath. Caleb’s determination was hard to resist. He’d said, in no uncertain terms, that there was nothing that would make him change his mind about wanting to be with her. Short of her carrying another man’s child, of course. Which was crazy. At least she hadn’t screwed her life up that bad.

  They’d been crazy for each other before the trip to Las Vegas. And though she’d blamed her spontaneous marriage on mind-numbing lust, the truth was she had liked him. Liked Caleb, the man. The guy who surprised her with flowers for no reason. The one who gave the most amazing foot massages and listened to her talk about her day as if he really cared.

  He’d been dependable, coming to her rescue when her car got a flat. And the time she’d tried to make him Granny’s fried chicken and started a fire. Her then-boyfriend had known exactly what to do, bounding into action and saving the day.

  It seemed Caleb was always saving the day for her. And now he was determined to save their marriage by offering to date her. The truth was, he was offering to court her. To earn the vow she’d made to love and cherish him ’til death did they part. What w
oman would turn down a man willing to go to such extremes to get something he legally already had?

  A woman who cared enough about him to let him go.

  Nothing would change with a few dates. The holiday season was coming, and Snow would be busy. So she’d play along, biding her time until he finally admitted the truth. And then she would send him home to his mother and sign when the papers arrived.

  Chapter 11

  Caleb parked along the curb in front of the address Hattie had given him, not sure what to expect. A one-level, white stone building bore the words THE ARDENT ADVOCATE etched into the thick glass insert in its front door. Seemed like a solid name for a town paper.

  “Welcome to the Advocate,” said a guy in a black polo strolling past the office foyer. “Someone will be with you in just a minute.” The man proceeded to disappear down the hall to Caleb’s right.

  For some unknown reason, Caleb was nervous. He knew everything about the newspaper business except writing the actual stories. He understood circulation, layout, and had assisted in creating an online presence for two of his father’s papers. The only reason he didn’t work for his father full-time was because that was exactly what his father wanted.

  Jackson McGraw expected his son to live under his thumb, follow his orders, and be groomed as his successor. Only Caleb knew that the life his father envisioned would be hell.

  Jackson, barely fifty years old, maintained his health meticulously. The man would likely remain at the helm of McGraw Media for another thirty years. If Caleb ever had designs on taking over, he’d have to pry the company from his father’s cold, dead hands. For him, the prize wasn’t worth the price.

  Unfortunately, he had yet to find an alternative to his father’s plan, which infuriated the elder McGraw to no end. And was apparently an issue for his wife, as well.

  A door near the window was open, and a female voice filled the tiny space, yelling, “Son of a biscuit eater!” The outburst was followed by a loud bang and the words, “Stupid drawer.”

  Caleb stepped closer to the window, not sure how to proceed. A glance to his left revealed a long, empty hallway with Hattie nowhere in sight. Not that he even knew if Hattie had intended to be here.

  “Hello?” he said through the open window. “Is this the newspaper office?”

  “Well, it ain’t NASA,” replied the brunette rubbing her knee. Then she looked up, and her brown eyes went wide. “Hellooo, sailor,” the middle-aged woman drawled. “What have we here?”

  Caleb honestly couldn’t tell if the question had been posed to him or not. “Hattie Silvester told me to be here at nine this morning, but she didn’t give me a name for who I’m supposed to meet.”

  The office lady’s jaw dropped. “You’re Hattie’s boy?”

  “Uh . . .” Caleb hedged. “No. I just met her yesterday. She seemed like a nice lady, but if she’s senile and this is all a joke—”

  “Miss Hattie called this morning and said she was sending a nice boy over to see Wally. Honey child,” she added, her voice dropping low as she stepped up to the open doorway, “you are not what I expected.”

  And this entire encounter was not what Caleb expected. “Did you say Wally?”

  As the woman stared at his shoulders as if sizing up their load-bearing capacity, Caleb guessed her to be in her upper forties, maybe. He’d never been much good at guessing women’s ages. Her dark hair was piled high on her head, but several pieces had come loose to dangle around a pretty face that sported a hefty layer of makeup.

  She swiped away a strand that had slipped over her brown eyes and smiled with a mouthful of straight, white teeth. The belted flannel shirt covering her floor-length red dress accentuated an hourglass figure, but the look in her eyes gave him pause. He’d avoided enough man-eaters in Nashville to recognize a leader of the pack when he saw one.

  “I’m Piper,” she said, “Piper Griffin.” The hand she extended was turned palm down, as if she expected him to kiss her knuckles. Caleb gave it a quick shake.

  “Can you tell this Wally person that I’m here?”

  “Of course,” she answered, then mumbled, “God bless Miss Hattie.”

  Caleb was used to women having a positive reaction to making his acquaintance, but he’d never felt as much like a side of beef as he did in that moment. Hopefully, whatever Hattie sent him here to do would not require further interactions with Piper Griffin.

  Snow opened the store Monday morning with heavy resignation. All she had to do was endure the next few weeks, if it took that long, being friendly enough to make it look as if she were making a real effort, while highlighting all the reasons that she and Caleb should go their separate ways. She would also have to resist a full-out wooing from a man who had the unnerving habit of making her forget all of those reasons.

  In fact, this morning, she wasn’t sure she could come up with a list of five. But then Snow didn’t need a list. Vivien McGraw had made sure of that.

  After their talk the night before, Snow had worried that Caleb might once again try to eliminate the no sex agreement, but he’d surprised her by not even bringing it up. In truth, she’d been a tiny bit disappointed that he hadn’t at least tried to kiss her again. When they’d been dating, rare was the night that didn’t include a passionate interlude. But then, Snow reminded herself, this was what she wanted. No sex to cloud her judgment.

  When she’d woken in Caleb’s arms with something poking her backside, she’d been half tempted to roll over and break her own rule. But Caleb respected their deal, dropping a kiss on her temple and padding into the bathroom. Snow had cursed herself and her stupid ideas, spending her last few minutes in bed thinking about anything other than the virile man currently portraying a saint in her powder room.

  “Based on that look,” Lorelei said, walking up to the counter, “you either came to your senses and got lucky, or you didn’t and have resorted to naughty-smile-inducing fantasies.”

  “Is your love life so boring that you have to live vicariously through mine?” Snow asked. “If so, I feel sorry for you.”

  Lorelei chuckled. “Don’t feel sorry for me, girlfriend. Spencer is determined to show me all that we missed out on during our twelve years apart.” Her eyes took on a far-away look. “What that man can do in a shower should be an Olympic sport.”

  Snow would never be able to look Spencer in the eye again. “I give,” she said. “No, I did not get lucky. Yes, I was thinking about it. End of conversation.”

  Following her Monday morning routine, Lorelei proceeded to set out her newest batch of sugary goodness. “At least you’re entertaining the notion, which is more than you seemed willing to do yesterday. What changed?”

  Embarrassed by her erratic behavior, Snow kept the details to a minimum. “I had a bit of a meltdown,” she said, slipping around the counter to help Lorelei set up. “Two days ago I had this nice little life I’d created for myself. I had no past, and definitely no dark secrets for the gossip lines. Then Caleb strolled into town and boom. Reality hit like a freight train.”

  “You can never outrun your past,” Lorelei said, arranging slices of nut bread on a round platter, then placing a glass dome over them. “Trust me, I tried.”

  Lorelei was proof that a woman’s past could be overcome. Or at least not stand in the way of future happiness.

  “How did you do it?” she asked. Snow had witnessed Lorelei’s triumph over the town that had branded her persona non grata once upon a time, but didn’t know how exactly she and Spencer had found their way back to each other. Snow had never mustered up the nerve to ask about the intimate details.

  Lorelei moved on to arranging gingersnaps. “In our case, I was the problem. I’d always had a chip on my shoulder, and when I came back from LA, my self-esteem was in the crapper, to put it mildly.” The cinnamon wafers were pushed to one side to make room for the sugar cookies. “I don’t think Spe
ncer and I are unique. You have to fight and talk and fight some more. In the end, he stood by me, and that woke me up.”

  Snow didn’t know what to say. Part of her felt bad for prying into her still-new friend’s personal life, while another lamented the fact that Lorelei’s explanation didn’t help her own situation in the least. She and Caleb were from different worlds, whereas Spencer and Lorelei had very similar experiences. And knowing that she wasn’t the wife he needed had nothing to do with Snow’s self-esteem. Theirs were more circumstantial problems, not emotional roadblocks.

  “Do you love him?” Lorelei asked, taking Snow by surprise. They’d thrown the L-word around during their brief marriage, but Snow was never sure if she was saying it because she meant it, or out of obligation. Married couples were supposed to say “I love you,” right?

  The realization hit that in all his pleading and negotiating, Caleb hadn’t uttered the four-letter word even once.

  Wanting to be honest, with Lorelei and with herself, Snow said, “I care about him. I think, before I left, that I was falling for him.”

  “Whoa.” Lorelei set her sheet of cookies on the counter behind them. “You married a guy without knowing if you loved him?”

  “I told you,” Snow said, feeling defensive, “we got married in Vegas. It wasn’t planned, and we sure as heck didn’t put much thought into it.”

  “Getting married isn’t about thought, it’s about feelings.”

  Grabbing a handful of chocolate chip cookies, Snow returned to the dessert display. “You sound like a greeting card.”

  “And you’re dodging the issue.” Lorelei put her hand on Snow’s wrist and waited for her to make eye contact. “Do you love him?”

  Buying time, Snow arranged the cookies, and then she stepped back, brushing the crumbs from her fingers. “The truth is, I’ve spent eighteen months trying not to love him. It’s taken him less than forty-eight hours to undo all my hard work.”

  This was a confession Snow neither liked nor had intended to say aloud. If anything, admitting this particular truth was the most dangerous thing she could do. Not saying the words meant she could pretend her heart could still be saved.