Commissioned In White (Art of Love Series)

by McDonald, Donna

  “I’m just making a point,” Shane said roughly, moving a little to ease the torment for both of them. “Look at us together. This is not about the children. This is not about me being a hero and saving you. This is about us, Reesa. I wanted you before I even knew your situation. If things had been different, we’d have had a normal wedding. Admit it. That court ceremony didn’t mean much to anyone but the judge and the kids’ grandparents. It wasn’t for us.”

  “Damn you, Shane,” Reesa said brokenly, her body arching and somehow hoisting his upwards with the force of a violent climax that was just not going to be denied any longer no matter what Shane tried to hold back from her.

  Feeling the waves of her climax assault him too, Shane had no choice but to surge inside her and rock them both to bliss. It was hard to say who was weeping more in relief at the end, him or her.

  Maybe holding back for forty minutes had been a little much, he decided, but Reesa was being so hard-headed. The hard punches his wife delivered to both his arms thirty seconds after the pleasure had passed told him exactly how angry she still was at him.

  “You may be small, but you hit like a guy,” Shane announced, arm muscles throbbing as he gathered her still humming body close. “But I really have to tell you that sex with you just gets better and better. How do you do that?”

  “I sure hope you enjoyed tonight because it may be the last time for a long while. You’re not touching me for a damn week,” Reesa said fiercely.

  “Fine. Who was it woke me up from a dead sleep two nights ago, begging and pleading to make love?” he asked calmly, remembering waking up to find her already astride him. Even the thought of her desiring him that much still made him shiver. “I would bet money that you would cave just as quickly as I would trying to hold out very long.”

  Reesa hit him in both shoulders again even harder because he was right. It made her even madder when he laughed at her getting physical with him. Her actions were no more effective than a fly landing on an elephant.

  “Get off me,” she ordered fiercely.

  “No—not yet,” Shane said softly, unwilling to leave her body when she was so upset at him. She really might not let him back in. “Say you understand, or at least that you forgive me.”

  “Never,” Reesa answered meanly.

  “Then I’m sleeping inside you,” Shane whispered, burying his face in her hair to hide his smile. “You smell so good, even when you smell like us. I like us, Reesa. I’m only asking because I want to feel really married to you.”

  Reesa let out a breath, emotionally undone as always by Shane’s honesty, but that didn’t mean she wanted anything like the circus she’d observed today, or the horror story Carrie had shared about her wedding to Michael.

  “You’re a guy,” she said caustically. “Why does a church wedding matter so much to you?”

  “I guess I inherited the urge from my father,” Shane said, the defense dying on his tongue because he knew that answer wasn’t good enough. “I can’t explain it. I just know it does.”

  “When I think about going through the process of a formal church wedding with you, I get the willies,” Reesa said sharply.

  “The what?” Shane asked, laughing because he didn’t think he heard right.

  “Willies—you know, nervous butterflies. After about five seconds of thinking about a wedding, I want to barf—which is what Carrie said she did,” she said in horror, closing her eyes. “Look at what happened to Jessica today, and Will’s a sweetie—usually. I can’t even think about it because you are incorrigible.”

  “Carrie was pregnant when she married Michael. She was sick all the time everywhere. And Jessica just had a slight overreaction to some medication. It all worked out okay in the end,” Shane said.

  “The whole ceremony didn’t even last ten minutes. What was the point? What was accomplished today? They could have had the same ten minutes down at the courthouse and still been married,” Reesa demanded.

  “What bothers you so much about doing a traditional ceremony?” Shane asked.

  “What is so great about public promises and legalistic commitment?” Reesa demanded. “I prefer the private kind. That may be why I put off getting married the other fourteen—I mean twelve times. I don’t like taking on responsibility for another person’s happiness. I don’t expect anyone to do that for me either. We’re married. We’re fine.”

  Shane did roll off her then. “So it’s not me personally—it’s the institution, or at least the process.”

  “Of course it’s not you. I never said it was you,” Reesa said quietly. “You’ve been an okay husband so far.”

  Shane sighed and looked at the ceiling of the bedroom. “Stop with the effusive praise. I can’t handle it,” he said sarcastically.

  Reesa sighed in response to the hurt hiding under the sarcasm. “Shane—I love you. I do. I’ve admitted it. What more do you want from me?”

  “I want to marry you for real, Teresa Ann Larson—in a church, in front our families. I want you to walk down the aisle to me in that dress Chelsea is guarding with her life,” Shane said sharply.

  “What about what I want?” Reesa demanded, finally fed up with arguing. “When do I get to say no and that be okay? Why is it I have to always do things just because someone else thinks I should? Because you think I should? Marrying you legally did not grant you permission to always decide what was right for me—or us. I don’t see any reason to have some additional ceremony.”

  Even saying the word “us” stuck in Reesa’s throat because it meant she and Shane were a definable unit for the purpose of discussions. Of course that’s what being married partially meant, but it was still hard to think of herself being that connected to Shane. Tomorrow she would try to think about why her marriage still felt unnatural, but tonight her way-too-smart husband had mentally exhausted her. And he still hadn’t given her a single good reason why he wanted a church wedding, other than that’s what other people did.

  Shane rolled up onto his elbow and looked down into Reesa’s face, startled to realize how serious she was being. “Reesa, do you regret making our relationship legal?”

  “Only when you’re being hyper-analytical like this,” Reesa said harshly, sighing at losing her temper with him.

  She closed her eyes to reach for calm before she tried for a better answer.

  “Shane—I’ve barely gotten over the shock that our marriage really happened in the first place, and now you want me to willingly choose do it again more publicly. That’s not even talking about the costs, the stress, and how the hell to fit it into our already ass-breaking schedules,” she said, thinking that being calm was obviously not going to be possible for her to achieve, at least not tonight.

  “If you don’t mind our legal marriage, why is a church ceremony such a big problem for you?” Shane asked, ignoring her swearing.

  “Because there’s a difference between doing something because you want it and giving in just to stop fighting,” Reesa said wearily. “You wear me out, Shane—and not always in a good way.”

  Shane put a hand on her stomach, running it lightly over the smooth skin there. Reaching across her, he pulled his hastily abandoned tee-shirt from the edge of the bed where it had landed an hour ago. He shook it out, and held it up for Reesa to slip on. He knew she hated being undressed while she slept, just in case Sara came in.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, tugging the long shirt over her head down to her waist. “Can we talk about this tomorrow? I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but I’m just so tired now.”

  Since the last thing he wanted was to send her to sleep concerned about their relationship, Shane decided to save the rest of the debate for another time. “I’m sorry, baby. I know I’m high maintenance sometimes,” he teased, kissing her belly as he helped pull the tee down over it and her hips.

  His long shirts fell halfway down her thighs. Seeing her in his clothes brought out the possessive male in him, but he refrained from telling her that s
he was making him hard again.

  “You drive me crazy one minute and completely soothe me the next,” Reesa said resentfully, rolling to her side and away from his chest, which she wanted to burrow into and weep. “This shirt smells like your cologne. I don’t know where you got that scent, but I like it. I keep forgetting to tell you.”

  Then she fell immediately asleep with the declaration humming on her lips still. It always made Shane laugh that the woman could pass out so quickly.

  He got up, pulled on sleep shorts, and unlocked their bedroom door so unexpected night visitors could come in later. When he returned to bed, he ended up watching Reesa sleep until he finally calmed enough to curl his body around hers.

  But he still lay awake thinking.

  He just couldn’t help wondering how long it would have taken for Reesa to agree to marry him if the judge hadn’t talked her into doing it. He frowned at the obvious answer of it being a long damn time because it meant he wouldn’t be sleeping next to her right now.

  Instead, they’d still be dating. And Addison would still be hanging around. And he wouldn’t get to see the kids more than a couple times a week.

  The very idea of not being married to her bugged him. The reality of it would drive him insane. Shane hugged her sleeping body close to chase away his realization of how much he wanted to be with her. Even if the judge hadn’t rushed them along, Shane knew he would have rushed her. He would have rushed her, despite the fact that Reesa had adamantly told him she didn’t want more responsibility and commitment.

  Rather than accept the possibility that Reesa truly didn’t want to be married, Shane soothed his ego reminding himself that no woman kept a wedding dress for over a decade without having firm intentions of using it. Once upon a time Reesa had planned on having a formal wedding. She could deny it all she wanted, but he would never believe it completely.

  When Chelsea had cited bad luck and flatly refused to show him the dress, Shane knew saw the truth. He was a husband, but had never really been a groom. Being one appealed to him more now after seeing his Dad do it. Reesa was obviously having problems being honest with herself and him. While that thought was equally disheartening, it was the last one echoing through Shane’s mind as he fell asleep.

  Chapter 7

  “Well, I don’t blame Shane for pressing on you for a better wedding ceremony than that court thing you two did,” Jillian said softly, standing on the opposite side of the bed and folding clothes. “I know the man makes you happy. Doesn’t he? You aren’t faking everyone out, are you?”

  Jillian watched her friend ignoring her and didn’t like it. Reesa Callahan was not the sort of person who ignored direct questions. Reesa confronted. Reesa made decisions and got on with her life. In fact, the woman helped others get on with their lives.

  Jillian decided that she couldn’t openly resent her new role as watchful friend. Lord knew Reesa shouldered the lion’s share of raising the kids, but damn it, marrying Shane Larson was supposed to make things better for her, not create more stress. And being married probably could help, but only if Reesa would stop fighting her feelings for Shane and relax. Hell, the man had won her over long ago, and it wasn’t like she was easy on any man. Her standards had kept her single for years.

  Truth was, instead of worrying about the state of her friend’s new relationship, Jillian needed to put some serious attention into resolving her own sad love life. Her doctor had informed her recently that the endometriosis she had fought for the last decade wouldn’t get much better until after a normal pregnancy. She surely didn’t intend to have a baby until she married the right guy—no way. That’s why she was planning to sign up for an online dating service where serious people met and married all the time. She would do it as soon as Reesa was done playing ostrich.

  Deciding she needed more privacy for the rest of her prying, Jillian closed and locked the bedroom door. She wanted out of the worrying-about-Reesa-and-Shane business, and there was no time like the present for some homegrown therapy.

  “Okay, it’s just you and me in here, girlfriend. Now tell me the truth. Why don’t you want to do the wedding thing? Even I have to admit your tattooed Viking biker dude cleans up real nice when he decides to,” Jillian said softly. “And you already admitted he’s great in bed. So what’s your real problem?”

  Reesa continued folding clothes while she tried to come up with an answer that made sense. She just hadn’t gotten that far in her thinking yet. Her emotions where Shane was concerned bounced around inside her like a pinball in an arcade game.

  “It just gives me a panic attack to even think about going through the process of marrying Shane again,” Reesa said morosely. “He wants to do it before Christmas. Ellen wants to use the ceremony for advertising her wedding coordinator business. Nobody seems to care what I want—or don’t want. Hell, I’m just the bride—I mean potential bride.”

  Jillian looked at Reesa’s bowed head and felt her heart lurch in her chest. Didn’t she know that Shane was totally gone on her? The man would give her anything she wanted if she’d just ask for something from him.

  “Actually, I think you have the opposite problem. I think all Shane cares about is what you want and don’t want. Right now, I think he’s afraid you don’t want him. That’s why he’s pushing for more commitment,” Jillian said firmly.

  Reesa snorted. “From what he’s told me, Shane has been shaking off females since he was fifteen, Jillian. I don’t think Shane worries about anything except what he thinks is right. His intelligence makes him arrogant. Sometimes I just want to kick him over it.” She looked at Jillian, who hadn’t responded to her last comment. “Why would you say that about Shane being afraid? Did he talk to you about me?”

  “No. He doesn’t discuss you, but Joseph says Shane is worried sick that you regret marrying him. That much was all Shane would say to him about it. He’s playing ostrich too,” Jillian informed her.

  “Joseph says? Since when are you and Joe on such friendly terms?” Reesa asked.

  Jillian raised an eyebrow. “He’s over here so much these days, there was no choice but to make friends. He’s just as worried about Shane pressing on you as I am about you resisting Shane’s efforts to win you over. On the surface, your marriage seems all fine, but even the kids know you two are being way too careful with each other. You rarely fight about normal things, and in this household, people who ignore others get noticed. It’s like you and Brian have traded places. You’re hiding out all the time from the rest of them.”

  “Fighting never accomplishes anything but to let people vent. Venting is not my style. I prefer rational discussions and decision making. The only time I fight with Shane is when he starts pushing on me to do something he thinks I should for my own good. He doesn’t know everything, but you’d think he did by how bossy he acts at times,” Reesa said angrily.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard Shane being bossy,” Jillian said, surprised to find herself defending Shane.

  “Stick around when he gets into one of his stubborn moods. I’m telling you, Jillian, being married is not easy. You have to get used to sleeping with a person, sharing a closet, and don’t get me started on bathroom time. Not to mention how hard it is having to get used to each other in front of a constant audience. There’s not exactly room for many private discussions between us, much less petty arguments,” Reesa declared.

  “I can’t argue with your assessment of the challenges, but since when did you start playing the passive-aggressive role in your relationships? You wouldn’t play this nice with Addison if you thought he was pushing too hard on you,” Jillian said sharply. “I’ve heard you light Brentwood up for saying something you didn’t like. Why not Shane?”

  Reesa sighed. “Shane is nothing like Brent.”

  “No—and thank God,” Jillian said firmly, happy and sure of it. “So just tell me the truth. Do you regret marrying the man? You can trust me not to ever say it to him if that’s the case. I won’t go tearing strips
off him over your answer either. I also double-dog swear not to beat you up because I know there really wasn’t any other choice at the time you agreed. I just want to know how you really feel about the man because I’m as worried as Shane is about whether or not you love him.”

  Reesa sorted folded laundry into piles. She’d gotten so proficient at laundry, she thought she could probably do it blindfolded. Or run a laundry business, though that idea made her shudder. She looked back at Jillian and saw her friend waiting impatiently for an answer.

  “Regret is the wrong word. I just wish it hadn’t happened so fast. I was in the process of falling in love with Shane, but I didn’t get to enjoy it before I had to shift into wife mode. I’m just trying hard not to be a bad wife,” Reesa said carefully.

  “Which means you really love him?” Jillian demanded, her gaze holding Reesa’s earnest one, searching for the truthful answer.

  “Which means I really love him,” Reesa agreed. “But can you imagine how controlling Shane would be if he knew how much I cared about keeping him happy?”

  Jillian laughed, part relieved and part irritated as hell. “Well, I never thought I’d see this from you,” she said with smirk on her lips.

  “What?” Reesa asked, offended at Jillian’s tone.

  “You’re afraid to give the man real power over you, but you’re also afraid to lose him. You are ga-ga-gone over him, but you don’t want him to know yet. You’re purposely keeping him wondering,” Jillian decided. “And now I feel sorry for Shane. Shame on you. That arrogant man does not need my pity.”

  Reesa rolled her eyes at Jillian’s drama. “You’re crazy. It’s not like that.”

  Jillian laughed even harder. “You can tell yourself that all you want, but I’ve known you a long time, girlfriend. And I think emotionally stringing your uber-smart husband along would be the worst choice for a controlling-your-life strategy. What have you done to ever charm him? Or to show him how you feel? I haven’t seen it. Tell me—and you can’t count sex.”