Created In Fire (Art of Love Series)

by McDonald, Donna

  Michael sipped his coffee. “A couple weeks ago I probably would have laughed, but I’m a humbled man. I live every day knowing Carrie doesn’t really want to be married to me or to be pregnant with my child.”

  Shane stopped drawing and looked at Michael. “You still going through with the wedding with all those doubts?”

  “Yes,” Michael said sadly. “Even if she doesn’t love me. I want her and the baby, but if I end up losing her—I will have our child. It might be enough for her to come back to me.”

  Shane stopped his drawing and laid down his pen.

  “If there was no baby and no reason for Carrie to marry you, what would you do? Would you still want to marry her?” Shane asked.

  “Yes,” Michael said.

  “Would she marry you?” Shane asked.

  “You know the answer to that as well as I do,” Michael said sadly.

  Michael studied the half-drawn picture on the tablet in front of Shane. It was a lot like his relationship to Carrie, only half of what it should be. If not for the baby, he’d have no hold on her at all. She’d managed to ignore the sexual chemistry between them for years. Without the circumstances being exactly as they were, Carrie Addison would be married to another man right now. He couldn’t let it happen again.

  Despite their flirtatious teasing, Carrie had fallen asleep the moment they’d gone to bed last night. Pale and exhausted, she had slept fitfully beside him. For several hours, Michael had lain awake by her side soothing her while he’d done something he hadn’t done since his parent’s divorce.

  He’d prayed that he was doing the right thing for him, her, and the baby by forcing Carry to marry him.

  Then he’d prayed for the strength to let Carrie go if he ever found out it wasn’t right—or if she ever truly wanted completely out of his life.

  “Michael?” Shane asked, shaking his brother’s shoulder to bring his attention back to the present. “She may not want to love you, but last weekend Carrie walked into your arms to cry. Women don’t cry in the arms of men they don’t trust. Trust is a critical thing in any relationship.”

  Michael nodded. “How bad do you think it is that I don’t remember her from college?” he asked.

  Shane shrugged. “I don’t know. I would say it’s as bad as it is in Carrie’s head.”

  “She’s forgiven me for dating the women where she works. Funny thing is the more sure I am of that; the more ashamed I am about it. The night of the show—I noticed there wasn’t a single person there I dated. I think something else besides Erin happened, but she isn’t sharing it,” Michael said. “And I guess I don’t want to ask because I’m trying my best to convince her they meant nothing to me.”

  “I get that now,” Shane said. “I didn’t before, but I absolutely do now. Maybe Dad is a lot wiser than we think. He certainly seems right about women.”

  Michael snorted. “Wise? Dad went from Mom to Jessica without a woman in his life for over a year. I never want to be that wise.”

  Shane laughed. “I went without one for five months. Sure, it was hard at times.”

  “Get real, dude. You mean it was hard all the time,” Michael said, joking.

  “Okay you’re right,” Shane admitted, laughing. “But celibacy wasn’t the reason I fell in love with the first woman I slept with after that. Michael, one minute she was telling me about where to buy shoes to fit and the next she was showing me what having an equal partner in bed was like. Not only was the sex phenomenal, there was innate trust between us from the beginning and not a single awkward moment. I liked her. I don’t think that happens often.”

  “It doesn’t. That’s why I’m marrying my perfect partner tomorrow,” Michael said.

  “I’m still adjusting to you getting married, but seeing Carrie with you—that just seems normal now,” Shane said.

  “That’s why tomorrow you have to help keep my future in-laws in line so they don’t drive Carrie crazy and make her change her mind. Your job as my best man is to keep it sane,” Michael said.

  “Best man at my brother’s wedding. It sounds so—mature. Do you want me to get a haircut in honor of the occasion?” Shane asked, grinning.

  Michael snorted. “No. Keep those damn shaggy locks you love so much. Hell, just shave, okay? You can even wear your bling. I want you to look intimidating, just stop short of the serial killer look. You and Dad look demented when you don’t shave.”

  “Hey, I already went all out and bought a new suit for the occasion. I’d put on a few pounds and needed one anyway,” Shane said at Michael’s sigh. “And maybe I think I might use it again when my dissertation has to be defended.”

  “Bet that super tall, athletic cut you need cost you quite a few dinero. Want your thousand back?” Michael asked with a grin.

  “Don’t mess with my love karma, Michael. Cash the damn check,” Shane told him. “It’s my deal with the universe to get my woman back.”

  “Your woman? You don’t even know her name,” Michael laughed at Shane’s evil look. “Fine, I’ll cash your check. I can’t wait to meet the woman you think is worth forfeiting a bet for that much money.”

  “Cash it today,” Shane told him. “Missing her is affecting my work. I don’t want to be heart-broken and broke at the same time.”

  “I’ll deposit it on the way to the wedding rehearsal,” Michael promised.

  “Is Brooke coming to dinner after?” Shane asked.

  “She said she’d try,” Michael said lightly. “You’re going to like your new stepsister.”

  “I’m going to like my new stepmother for sure,” Shane said, returning Michael’s grin. “Speaking of that—have Jessica and Dad set a date?”

  “No, but he said they’re looking for a bigger house,” Michael said. “The primary criterion is a work area for both of them. I’m going to miss them being around the corner if they move away.”

  “Lexington is not Los Angles. It’s not that bad being across town,” Shane said, rolling his eyes. “Who knows? You may want a bigger house sometime yourself.”

  “Not unless I have more children,” Michael said sincerely. “I like living mortgage free. Paying off the house is the smartest thing I ever did.”

  “I can’t even imagine owning a house, but I’m giving it some thought,” Shane said. “Thanks for setting a good example.”

  “Right—I am a model of responsibility,” Michael said sarcastically. “Enough sentimental crap, let me see what you’ve drawn.”

  He took the pad from Shane and studied the woman’s face. This one showed her eyes laughing at the viewer, full of secrets. He had to hand it to his brother—she was very cute with that teasing look in her eyes.

  Michael looked up at Shane, surprised to see his brother’s tortured gaze locked to the picture.

  “Dude, how did you get so bad off in one night?” Michael demanded.

  “How long did it take you to be sure?” Shane asked, both of them already knowing the answer.

  Michael laid the pad back down and slid it over to his brother, who looked at it reverently.

  “That’s why I’m going through with tomorrow,” Michael said. “The idea of missing any more nights with Carrie terrifies me. I’m happy just sleeping next to her, much less the rest.”

  “Then cash my check, Michael,” Shane pleaded, his gaze never leaving the woman he had captured in ink. “I’ve drawn at least two or three of these every day since I drew the first one. I remember every moment of my time with her.”

  “Shane, I gave up, and yet here I am getting married to Carrie,” Michael said tightly, sympathetic at last, realizing the genuine distress his brother was in. “Anything is possible.”

  Shane nodded and tore the picture from the pad to add it to his growing collection.

  *** *** ***

  The rehearsal went smoothly, and Carrie insisted on paying for the dinner afterward. The only reason Michael didn’t argue about it was because she didn’t look capable of a real debate. They could hash it out la
ter.

  Both sets of his parents and Carrie’s parents left as soon as dinner ended. Michael couldn’t help noticing how relieved Carrie seemed to be when they left.

  She sank into her chair at the restaurant and looked like she’d rather be anywhere else but there. He frowned at how tired and defeated she seemed.

  Michael figured she would give him hell over the “BRIDE” T-shirt he’d surprised her with, but Carrie had shrugged into it without comment, pulling it over her other clothes without uttering a single complaining word.

  “Just how sick are you?” Michael asked, putting his hand on her back to rub. “You’ve not been your usual contrary self this evening.”

  Carrie looked at Michael’s chest with “GROOM” all over it. Sick? She wasn’t sick, at least not in the way he meant. Well, dizziness still came and went randomly, but at least she hadn’t spent too much quality time hugging the toilet today.

  What she was at the moment was terrified of getting married tomorrow.

  She was worried about giving Michael Larson a legal claim to her as his wife when he’d already staked a claim to most of the rest of her. She was worried about marrying a man she had to admit she still loved but didn’t trust completely. She was worried about being tied to a baby she hadn’t planned on before she could work out how she felt about its father.

  Other than that, Carrie was right as rain.

  “I’m okay,” she said, going for a smile that never quite made it to her mouth.

  Ignoring her flat expression, Michael’s gaze dropped to his chest.

  “Were the shirts too much?” he asked, blatantly issuing an invitation for snide comments.

  “No. The T-shirts are fine. Cute—I guess,” Carrie answered, reaching for her ice water.

  “Cute? Carrie, what in hell is wrong with you?” Michael demanded. “I bought these knowing full well you’d hate them. Why are you being so—nice?”

  Carrie snorted. “Nice? Why? You don’t like nice, Michael? I figured you’d consider it a blessing that I’m being so cooperative.”

  “Not enjoying it as much as I thought I would,” Michael said, relieved to finally see a grin. “I’d rather have a bossy and argumentative bride. Then I’d have some idea if you were going to faint walking down the aisle tomorrow or just run the first chance you get.”

  “I said I’d go through with our marriage, Michael,” Carrie said, studying her hands.

  “That doesn’t mean you have be stoic about the situation if it bothers you,” Michael told her. “I know these are not ideal circumstances, but I am trying to make this easy and painless. I knew fun was a little much to hope for, but I guess I hoped it wasn’t going to add to your stress.”

  For the briefest of moments, she considered telling Michael about resigning her job. But if she did, what reason could she give? Did she want to admit that it was because she was tired of running into women he’d dated where she worked? That she was tired of seeing emotions ranging from loathing to longing on faces around every turn? No amount of regret from him could change the past. That was for certain.

  Leaving and giving herself a fresh start was the only reasonable action to take to fix her stress level, and this afternoon her therapist had agreed. She hadn’t told Michael about the therapist either. She didn’t want him to think it was because of him.

  “I appreciate all you’ve done to take care of the wedding preparations. My parents are pleased. I know you can’t tell, but I can. I won’t let you down tomorrow,” Carrie said, pushing back her chair. “I need to run to the restroom. Don’t worry so much about me, Michael. I’m hanging in there.”

  Carrie patted Michael’s shoulder and walked quickly away.

  Michael stared at her back until she disappeared.

  Shane and Brooke had been in deep discussion about the various kinds of wedding rituals in the world until they heard Michael heave a deep sigh.

  “Carrie okay?” Shane asked.

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” Michael answered tightly, unable to filter out all the sarcasm.

  “Maybe she’s having cold feet,” Brooke said. “I hear that happens to everyone before they get married.”

  Michael shook his head. “Not going to happen to me, but I can understand why Carrie would be nervous. It would probably help if she vented some of her stress.”

  He stood and headed out to find the manager to tell them they were about finished.

  “Why does Michael act like he doesn’t know Carrie loves him?” Brooke asked.

  “Because he doesn’t know,” Shane answered. “They both think they’re getting married because of the baby and for no other reason.”

  Brooke laughed and shook her head. “That baby has nothing to do with the sexy code they were swapping yesterday, unless you count it being an indirect result of that electrical connection they have. Speaking as an unbiased witness, those two crackle and sizzle so much that it makes me want to go back to hunting for a guy to make me do that.”

  Shane nodded. “They both have the same fixed idea in their head about how their relationship is and isn’t working out. Yet we’ve all watched them fall more in love in the last few weeks. You should have seen them when she first came. She was sleeping in the master bedroom alone and Michael was being eerily calm.”

  Brooke laughed. “I could tell Michael was totally in love yesterday when I met him. He only flirted with me like two minutes. I usually get more of a reaction out of men.”

  Shane leaned out of his chair pretending to take in her entire appearance. “I can see why that happens. If I wasn’t in love myself, I’d flirt with you.”

  Brooke laughed. “Yeah, you would, but you’re not my type. Sorry. Michael could be, but I don’t poach, and I like Carrie.”

  Shane frowned. Maybe red-heads really were immune to him like Michael had once teased. “Not that I care, but will you tell me why I’m not your type—for future reference?”

  Brooke smiled at the wounded ego in his voice and held his gaze. Shane was a sweetie, but she could see the mental control freak simmering just under the surface of that charm of his. Guarding against mental manipulation was not for her. It would be like living with a clone of herself.

  “Well, I’d rather have a good-looking brother than a guy for one night who would be wishing I was someone else anyway,” Brook said lightly.

  Shane smiled back genuinely. “You’re just as charming as your mother.”

  “Now that may be the nicest compliment I’ve ever had,” Brooke replied. “Are you going to call her Mom? Please do. Make sure I’m around so I can watch her face.”

  Shane laughed. “Last time I did that, Jessica threatened to tell my real mother on me.”

  Brooke laughed. “Sounds like Mom. Just know that the more she teases you, the more she likes you.”

  “God, Jessica must love me then. I catch hell all the time,” Shane said, mouth twisted into a grin once more.

  “Ellen—your real mother—is nice, too. I just get worried that I might mess her up if I get too close. How do you ever hug her?” Brook asked, thinking her mother’s lack of vanity was a much better trait to emulate than perfection.

  “Mom is not as proper as she seems. What did you think of my stepfather Luke? He’s a lawyer. I heard that you like his type,” Shane said, teasing. “He has a brother who’s still single.”

  “Mom told you that, right? Thanks, but no thanks, damn it anyway. No more lawyers. I’m a reformed woman,” Brooke said, laughing. “I’m going to look for a young history teacher with high ideals.”

  “Great. Dad could probably hook you up,” Shane said, making Brooke laugh. “But just in case, you need to rub my elbow. I’ll share my love karma with you.”

  They were laughing and rubbing elbows when Michael came back to the table. He looked at them laughing and smiling.

  “Great,” Michael said, rolling his eyes. “As if a male weirdo in the family wasn’t enough, now we’ve got a female version.”

  “Says th
e man so in touch with his feminine side that his hair is longer than most women’s,” Brooke pointed out, crossing her arms and giving Michael a withering look. “For your information, Shane was sharing his love karma with me.”

  “Well, be careful letting Shane help you,” Carrie said, walking around Michael to put herself across from a laughing Brooke, whom she found both very appealing and worth siding with in this debate. “I don’t think his love karma is working the way it’s supposed to right now. It’s malfunctioning. He lost the love of his life.”

  Shane sighed. “Just wait. You will be amazed when I find her,” he told them.

  “If that happens, I’ll rub elbows with you too,” Carrie said. “You got any get rich karma going on? I’d kiss your feet for some of that.”

  Shane shook his head. “Not yet—but my focus hasn’t been on making money.”

  “It hasn’t been on love either, but you ended up in love with a mystery woman anyway,” Michael told him, wondering why Carrie needed love karma when she had him.

  “What is less committing than a person saying not yet?” Shane argued.

  “Saying nothing,” Carrie said firmly, forgetting they were just joking about nonsensical things. “It’s less committing to say nothing at all.”

  Looking at Carrie, who was not telling him anything about how she really felt about their wedding, Michael had to agree.

  Chapter 20

  At six o’clock Saturday evening, wearing the most beautiful wedding dress in the world, Carrie stood in a side vestibule of the church Ellen had chosen, shielded from all eyes except her maid of honor’s and her father’s.

  She looked down at the sheer lace covering her recently ample breasts being lifted by a hidden bra that was forcing her cleavage to take center stage. Carrie felt sympathy for her bound body and promised her breasts freedom at the first opportunity.

  However tight the bodice was, the rest of the dress molded to her trim dimensions as if it had been specifically made just for her. There had been a perfectly fine light blue formal dress in her closet that would have worked fine for a simple church ceremony, but Michael’s mother had insisted this dress was the one she had to have.