Created In Fire (Art of Love Series)

by McDonald, Donna

  “What’s your dream job? Maybe we find something else for you here,” John said, wondering how he was going to manage without her.

  “My dreams are big,” Carrie said, laughing. “I want my own gallery, John. If I win the lottery and get it, I’ll swing a deal with you to host your shows there. I’ll be cheaper than the Lexington Center and a lot more elegant than a conference room near Rupp. I’ll even play nice with Erin if she does the planning.”

  John leaned back in his chair. “Hell, if I had the cash, I’d front you for it, but I don’t. What are you going to do if you don’t win the lottery and get your gallery?”

  “Run away to Bowling Green with my sisters,” Carrie said, not thinking how her new statement might be construed.

  “Bet your new husband would be chasing after you in a matter of hours. I never saw such a possessive man in my life,” John said, sneering.

  Carrie blinked, trying to recover her error. “I was joking about running away. I’m getting nervous about getting married this weekend. We’re living in Michael’s house. I just feel like running away at times.”

  “Everyone feels that way. I may never get married again,” John said, picking up her resignation with a sigh. “You’re sure about this resignation?”

  Carrie nodded, feeling light-headed as she stood. “Yes.”

  She took a couple steps, noting how strange she felt—dizzy and disoriented. Not nauseated exactly, but weird. “John—I’m going to be keeping chaotic hours this week. Between doctor appointments and the wedding, I’m going to be personally busy.”

  John nodded. “Do what you need to do,” he said. “You’re off next week aren’t you?”

  “Yes—all week. We—we’re not doing the traditional honeymoon, but we are spending some time together,” Carrie said.

  “You planning to change your name to Larson?” John asked.

  The question caught her by surprise, and Carrie responded with her gut. “Hadn’t thought about it. I didn’t the other times.”

  “I was going to have your nameplate changed. Let me know if you decide differently. You look tired today, Carrie. Why don’t you knock off early?” he suggested.

  “Got a doctor appointment this afternoon,” Carrie said lightly as she headed for his door, thankful the strange floating sensation had passed. “Thanks though.”

  *** *** ***

  Michael headed to the door when it rang, assuming it was Jessica coming straight after school. He opened the door to a tall red-head and smiled in welcome. It wasn’t Jessica, but it could have been her clone.

  “You must be Brooke. You look as much like your mother as I do my father,” Michael said instead of hello.

  “You must be Michael then,” Brooke said, sticking out a hand.

  “And even you are taller than me,” Michael said sadly, shaking her hand and tilting his head up.

  “No, it’s these,” Brooke stuck out a foot and put up her jeans leg to reveal five inch platform heels. “I like to be tall. I’m only five nine.”

  “Nice. Maybe I’ll get a pair to wear when the family comes over so I don’t have to be the short one,” Michael joked, listening to her laugh. “Come on in. Dad and Jessica will be here shortly.”

  Brooke walked into the house and followed Michael to the kitchen. “You’re welcome to wait in the living room unless you want to keep me company. I’m making food for Carrie. She’ll be home any minute and starved.”

  “You got enough to share?” Brooke asked, peeking over his shoulder.

  Michael grabbed another plate from the cabinet and put some veggies and cheese on it for her.

  “You’re my hero,” Brooke said, taking the plate and a glass of soda he poured for her.

  Michael rolled his eyes and made her laugh. “All these easy to please women in the world and I had to fall in love with a difficult one. C'est la vie.”

  “I’m not always this easy. I’d just do a lot for food right now,” Brooke informed him, popping in a chunk of cheese. “Sorry. Starving from the road trip. I was trying to be here when Mom got out of school.”

  “Quite a trip here from Columbus,” Michael said with a grin.

  “Yes, it is,” Brooke said. “Fortunately, I won’t have to do it much longer. I’m looking for a job closer to home. I would like to live in Lexington and be closer to Mom.”

  “Nice. What is it you teach again?” he asked.

  “Philosophy,” Brooke said, grinning at Michael’s look. She was almost used to people laughing at what she taught.

  “Philosophy? As in I think therefore I am?” Michael asked.

  “Descartes. Yes. You know him?” Brooke asked.

  “Sure. My brother bought his T-shirt at the concert he gave. Shane wears it all the time,” Michael said, liking the sound of her genuine amusement.

  He heard the key in the front door.

  “And there’s the mother of my future child. Be right back,” Michael said, wiping his hands on a towel and heading to the front door.

  Carrie stepped into the hallway and had to press against the door jamb to hold herself up.

  “Michael, I think I need some help,” she said. “I’m very dizzy.”

  His arms were around her instantly. He hugged and held her as he peered down into her face. “Dizzy. What did the doctor say?”

  “They said it was probably low blood sugar and that I needed to eat more often. I don’t think that’s what it is. I don’t feel right,” Carrie said, all but ringing her hands in distress.

  “Want to try eating something?” Michael asked.

  “Sure—I guess,” Carrie answered, leaning on him because she didn’t have much of a choice.

  They walked to the kitchen together and Carrie straightened when she saw the very attractive woman sitting at the table eating.

  “Hello,” Carrie said, her face filling with heat as she gave Michael a glare. “Am I interrupting something?”

  Michael rolled his eyes again, making Brooke giggle.

  “Save those hormones for a real situation. Sit at the table and say hello to Jessica’s daughter while I bring you some food,” he ordered.

  The jealousy that had raged now ebbed away, but it left Carrie feeling more ill.

  “Sorry. No way to meet a woman who blindly agreed to be my maid of honor,” Carrie said, walking to the beautiful woman and putting out a hand. “Miserable day. I’m Carrie Addison.”

  “I’m Brooke Daniels. Mom asked me to meet her here, and I conned your fiancée into feeding me,” Brooke said easily, shaking Carrie’s hand.

  “Your mother is awesome.” Carrie said sincerely. “We joke about opening an art gallery together one day.”

  “I bet she would love to own an art gallery,” Brooke said easily, taking in Carrie’s pallor. “You going to be okay? You look really pale.”

  Carrie nodded and took the nearest chair.

  “Yes, but I don’t know if I can eat,” Carrie said when Michael put a plate in front of her.

  “Nibble,” he ordered, bending down to drop a hot kiss on her mouth.

  The rest of Carrie’s concerns about finding Brooke in the kitchen alone with Michael were banished by his mouth eager as ever on hers.

  Guilt swamped her for her initial reaction, which was followed rapidly by a sense of entitlement to her mistrust. After her initial meeting with the therapist, she was hyperaware of her conflicting feelings and completely unable to prevent her emotional response.

  In other words, her life sucked and she was a crybaby. Wonderful diagnosis.

  Carrie sniffled, swore, and snatched a napkin from the dispenser on the table to dry her eyes.

  “I don’t know which is worse—the random sickness or the constant bawling,” she complained.

  “I may never get married if that’s what wedding jitters are like,” Brooke said, reaching over and patting her arm.

  Carrie laughed. “No. No—it’s not the wedding. I’m two months pregnant,” she declared. “It’s a lot more stressful tha
n the wedding.”

  “You’re two and a half months pregnant,” Michael corrected. “I’m going to put up a calendar and start marking days so we can both keep track.”

  “I’m barely nine weeks, Michael. Stop exaggerating,” Carrie shot back.

  Brooke’s gaze went back and forth between them as she ate more vegetables. It was like watching a reality show on TV.

  “Do you know the exact date you conceived?” Brooke asked, laughing again when they both answered yes very firmly.

  Michael walked to the counter, rummaged through a drawer, and pulled out a calendar.

  Carrie glared and rolled her eyes at Michael’s back while Brooke laughed. “You can add it up any damn way you want Larson, but it’s still going to come out to nine weeks. Stop rushing me.”

  “You’re right,” he said after counting twice. “Nine weeks. Seems longer.”

  Carrie picked up a carrot stick and beaned Michael in the back of his head with it.

  “Hey,” he said, spinning around and picking the carrot stick up from the floor and eating it, making both the women giggle at the grossness. “I admitted I was wrong and in front of a witness. What more do you want from me?”

  Carrie held his gaze as she ate a piece of cheese. “That depends. Did you buy any yogurt bars today?”

  Michael’s smile couldn’t have been wider. “Six boxes. Three flavors. I even bought chocolate in case you need it.”

  Carrie smiled. “You mean in case I get a craving?” she asked.

  He nodded and smiled when she smiled back at him.

  “That was very thoughtful of you,” Carrie said, turning her attention to her plate.

  “I bought strawberry for me, but we can probably make a deal to trade,” Michael said, his mind hazing over with lust when she laughed again without looking at him.

  Then he remembered they had company that didn’t deserve to be embarrassed or shocked.

  “Did I miss something? I was keeping up with the food fight before. The whole carrot thing—I got that. You lost me with the dessert discussion,” Brooke said, grinning.

  She may not get the innuendo, but she certainly got the message Michael was sending Carrie, who was looking very pleased to be receiving it. It had Brooke wondering what the other brother was like and if he had anyone in his life. It was obvious that at least one of Will’s sons was as sexy as he was.

  “I’m having hormonal cravings,” Carrie said, swinging her gaze to Brooke’s and away from Michael’s, which she could feel boring into her. “Sometimes I can eat three or four at time. It’s crazy to want something so much.”

  “Want one now?” Michael asked roughly, unable to call the teasing to a halt as he thought about her licking melted yogurt off him.

  “No thanks,” Carrie said as casually as she could. “Maybe later though.”

  He couldn’t believe Carrie was flirting with him in front of a virtual stranger, despite the fact Brooke would have no way of knowing what they’d done with—hell. Stop thinking about it, he warned himself. He could already feel his clothes becoming uncomfortable.

  The doorbell rang, and Michael saw it as a chance to escape. He stopped by the table and yanked Carrie’s head back gently, but hard enough to definitely get her attention.

  “Definitely later,” he promised, fitting his mouth over Carrie’s once more and then letting go to answer the door.

  Brooke looked at her flushed face after Michael left. “Nice. Very nice. He reminds me of Will. Is the other brother like that too?”

  “Shane?” Carrie asked in shock, laughing and shaking her head, then relenting when she remembered Shane crying as he drew the face of the woman he met. “Yeah, I imagine he probably is like that, but he’s very different from Michael and Will. He’s getting a doctorate in psychology. He seems more interested in collecting research candidates than having relationships, though Michael says women line up for interviews. However, Shane fell in love recently, only he doesn’t know who she is. It’s all very confusing.”

  Brooke laughed and shook her head. “Sounds like he has a short attention span. No thanks—guess I’ll have to settle for stepbrother. Forget I asked.”

  Carrie laughed. “I’m teasing. Shane is very smart and just a big teddy bear of a guy.”

  “No—no, that’s okay. I’m tired of playing brainiac games with the men in my life. I got my fill of that dating law students for the past five years,” Brooke said, raising her eyebrow at Carrie’s smile.

  “No one special in your life?” Carrie asked, wondering how someone so nice and so beautiful wasn’t seriously involved.

  “I have—well, let’s call them high standards where men are concerned,” Brooke said, picking up the soda Michael had given her. “I’ve sampled and had a few men last a while, but eventually it fizzles. The bedroom is easy, which I have to say my very smart mother was completely right about. It’s what happens outside the bedroom that really tells the story—or at least that’s the Daniels’ theory of dating. Evidently Will is exceptional everywhere. So the existence of perfect men has been proven at least once. I guess I’ll keep looking.”

  Carrie laughed. “Will’s crazy about your mother. Are you okay with him?”

  Brooke smiled. “Are you kidding? I can’t wait to call him daddy. He’ll be my first one. I’m looking forward to having a father figure in my life.”

  Carrie’s smile faded. “Jessica never remarried? I didn’t know that. Of course, we’ve only really talked a couple of times. I read her history on the internet, so I know about your—real father.”

  “Don’t feel sad. Mom isn’t sad about it, and I never knew him. She says that no one could replace my real father in her life until Will came along. My mother has walked her own dating path and set many tongues wagging over the years. I won’t tell you I’ve always approved of all her actions. However, having never been that much in love myself, I can certainly understand her holding out for the right man again,” Brooke said. “Will is definitely the right man. I’ve never seen her so happy.”

  “I’ve known Michael a long time, even though we just got together a few months ago. There are just some men that turn out to be your destiny no matter how much you think otherwise,” Carrie said quietly. “Or how temporary or permanent they end up being for you. The Larson men make an impact.”

  “Well, maybe UK contains Dr. Destiny for me. I’ve told Mom I’m going to marry a tenured professor. I have an interview there tomorrow,” Brooke said. “If I get the job, I’ll be moving back to Lexington.”

  The front door banged opened with Michael leading the pack carrying a box almost as big as he was. He was followed in by Will and Jessica carrying other packages. It took three trips until it was all in the house.

  “Wonder what on earth all that is?” Carrie mused aloud, laughing as she watched.

  “Baby furniture, isn’t it?” Brooke asked, not missing the genuine shocked expression suddenly covering Carrie’s blushing face. “Mom wanted me to come help with assembly tonight. She said we’d have pizza and beer and put it together this evening.”

  “Oh,” Carrie said, overwhelmed. “I guess I forgot. Wow. Baby furniture. Of course.”

  “Carrie? You’re not going to pass out on me are you? Your eyes just went glassy,” Brooke said, alarmed.

  Carrie shook herself. “No. No—I’m okay. The doctor said I had a blood sugar issue. I just get a bit dizzy at times, but I’m okay. Really. I’m okay.”

  “Well, I imagine with the wedding on Saturday, you have a lot going on this week,” Brooke said softly.

  “Yes,” Carrie told her. “I have a lot going on.”

  And furniture for the baby that she still hadn’t really accepted yet was low on Carrie’s list of stressful things to handle.

  “Brooke, I’m going to have to be rude and go lie down for a while. It was nice to meet you. Sorry I was bitchy when I came in,” Carrie said, standing and leaning on the table until the dizziness passed.

  “Forget that. N
eed some help?” Brooke asked, concerned again at her weaving form.

  “I use the wall to help me when I need it,” Carrie said. “I’ll see you later. Michael will probably wake me when the pizza comes anyway. He’s obsessed with feeding me.”

  “Nice problem to have,” Brooke told her, happy when she smiled.

  “I suppose it is,” Carrie said, leaning one hand on the wall as she went down the hall to the bedroom.

  When she got there, she collapsed on the bed and lay very still until the room stopped spinning.

  Chapter 19

  Friday morning, Michael’s brother and best man came over early. Shane was supposed to be helping with last minute preparations, but Michael thought his brother’s mind seemed to be on everything else but the wedding.

  “Sorry I missed her. What’s she like?” Shane asked, retrieving Michael’s drawing pad from the top of the refrigerator.

  “I see I’m going to have to find another hiding place for my paper,” Michael said, remembering hiding his art supplies from Shane throughout their childhood.

  Shane would take the finest grain artist paper and doodle cartoons all over it without any idea how murderously expensive it was. Michael had finally bought his brother a box of printer paper. At five hundred pages a ream, it had kept Shane occupied for quite some time. Maybe it was time to stock up on it again.

  “I’ll buy you a new pad. I need to draw,” Shane told him, taking the tablet to the table. “You were going to tell me about Brooke.”

  Michael narrowed his eyes. “Brooke looks like a younger version of Jessica. She has a warped sense of humor, but seems to be a keen judge of character. I don’t think much gets by her. How come you didn’t show up to meet her and help us?”

  “Deadline,” Shane said. “I’m blowing it. Depression is hell on creativity. That whole depressed artist thing is bullshit. I am ten times better when I’m moderately happy.”

  “This is still about the girl you picked up isn’t it?” Michael asked, bringing two cups of coffee to the table.

  “Not girl—woman. Don’t make me talk about her. She’s all I think about as it is,” Shane said. “Go ahead and laugh. You cursed me and it came true.”