by Baird, Ginny
“Carrie, beautiful Carrie,” he said, cupping his hands over her satiny shoulders. “Did you for one minute think that wealth would be a hindrance?”
Carrie nodded, but saw nothing but her own confusion mirrored in his eyes.
“Honey, the only one setting up roadblocks here with his miserable life is me. You, Carrie St. John, have everything any woman could ask for. You’re intelligent, attractive, accomplished at your job -- and rich. I, on the other hand --”
“Oh,” she said, scooting back and out of his grip. “So, you are holding my back account against me.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“Well, it’s certainly what you implied by telling me I already had it all. For your 411, I don’t. At least not what I most want in here." She stopped and thumped her chest. “And, in case you haven’t heard, money can’t buy you love.”
“Oh, I know that for certain,” Mike assured her. “And for your information, though I had suspicions you had money, my falling in love with you had nothing to do with your bank account!”
“Your what?” she asked, her voice softening in disbelief.
Holy cow! He’d gone and done it. And for crying out loud right smack in the middle of the closet thing they’d had to an argument yet.
Carrie reached up and pinned his face between her hands. “Repeat what you just said.”
Do it better this time, Mike warned himself. Much better.
“I, uh...” Mike swallowed hard past the lump in his throat. “Carrie, it’s true. I know I was a jackass at dinner...” Oh great, he was doing just wonderfully. Curse words and all. “I mean, I know I over-reacted. But, in truth, it drove me crazy seeing those other guys vying for your attention. And it made me think about... Realize just what a danger it would be to have you on the open market." Nice, Mike. Real smooth, you unromantic doofus! Well, at least she wasn’t laughing.
It was all Carrie could do to stifle a chuckle. He was trying so hard, it almost hurt her to watch. For all his experience with women, it was overwhelmingly obvious Mike Davis was, at this moment, mapping uncharted territory.
“Carrie St. John,” he said, the words erupting from his throat like blue-hot lava. “I love you.”
Carrie wasn’t sure whether he looked more amorous or petrified, but whatever it was she understood that Mike had just put his heart on the line.
“And, I love you back,” she said bringing the cushion of her mouth up to his.
“Now,” she said, after their long languorous kiss, “let’s go dance while the two of us still seem to be agreeing on something.”
“I don’t like to dance,” Mike protested.
“Oh yes, you do,” Carrie answered with a mysterious grin. “I’ll prove it.”
Carrie was right about the dancing part, Mike thought, reveling in the comfort of her curvaceous body snuggled up against his own. The song playing was a band arrangement of Led Zeppelin’s “Stairway to Heaven." It had been the only song in high school, Mike recalled shutting his eyes, that even the nerdiest guys could get a dance for. Though he wasn’t prepared to tell Carrie just yet, in his day, the swim team fellows weren’t the most sought after of the jocks. Mike’s early successes with women came later, in college. But now, thinking back to his Ashton days and gently swaying to the music with Carrie, he was glad for every forgotten dance. Every pigtailed, pug-nosed girl who’d ever rejected him. And yes, even snooty Alexia. For, if it hadn’t been for any of them, he would have had no way of knowing exactly what he held in his arms now.
The music slowed to a stall and polite applause, and Mike feared the band leader would pick up his tempo. But instead he sent a smile over Carrie’s shoulder and gave Mike a knowing wink, as he began a slow, jazzy rendition of “Lady in Red.”
Carrie didn’t know if the music was still playing, or if it was merely the pulse of her heart that was lending rhythm to her feet. All she knew was that she felt protected, sheltered and loved. Wholly and unconditionally drawn straight into Mike’s warmth. They couldn’t have been more connected had they been in bed together. Or maybe they were, and she was dreaming.
Mike reached up and stroked her hair, causing her to melt into him another inch. He’d never peel her off now. Carrie couldn’t even say where Mike ended and she began. The only thing she knew for certain was that she never wanted this feeling to stop.
“I’m sorry folks,” the band leader said, lightly tapping Mike’s shoulder. “But we’re closing up.”
Carrie opened her eyes in astonishment to find the room had cleared. Only a few staff persons remained, busily bussing tables and stacking up chairs.
“Holy cow,” Mike said, squinting into the brightness of the lights that were now turned way, way up.
“Holy cow is right,” Carrie said, bolting back into foggy reality and sweeping hand through her hair. “We’ve shut the place down! ”
****
Chapter Fifteen
A few hours later, Carrie stroked a hand down Mike’s naked chest and snuggled in deeper to the crook of his arm. “You know,” she said as moonlight threaded through the spreading oak outside and danced with the sheers at the open window, “I really loved being your wife tonight.”
Mike tightened his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. “And I really loved the honeymoon,” he said with a growl.
“Mike!” she said, swatting his biceps.
Her hand relaxed against his skin and began to massage. He was all solid muscle, but with just enough give. Rock hard, with a covering of bristly masculinity. Carrie shivered, as she felt a renewed stirring in her loins. It was true. She was insatiable with Mike. But then, what woman in her right mind wouldn’t be? No woman that would ever get the chance to find out again, Carrie told herself securely.
“You know,” Mike said, trailing a finger down her back to the point where it met the sheet. “You were right about that dancing part. I sound like a sappy movie, but I could have danced all night.”
“Hmm,” Carrie said, laying a light kiss on his shoulder. “But I’m awfully glad we came back to tango here.”
Mike chuckled and patted her backside. “I could get used to this.”
Carrie’s heart stilled.
“Carrie?” Mike asked, as the wind rustled the window panes. “How would you feel about making things more permanent?”
Carrie’s insides did cartwheels but somehow she’d gone mute.
“I mean, I’m not asking -- yet.”
“What?" She asked, finding her voice.
“You’ll have to trust me on this. I really want things to be perfect. You deserve perfect.”
Carrie didn’t understand. Nor could she imagine anything more perfect than this. “This --”
Mike rolled sideways and shushed her with a kiss. “You’ll have to trust me, Okay? Just swear you won’t go running off with any of my old swim team buddies within the next couple of days.”
“Not a chance,” Carrie said, her heart thundering as he threaded his fingers in her hair and brought his mouth to hers.
“So?” Grandma Russell asked. “Tell all, sweetness! Details, details! You haven’t been answering the phone all morning.”
Carrie walked to the kitchen with her portable phone and poured her coffee. “I’m answering now, aren’t I?”
“Yes. But that only proves he’s finally gone.”
Carrie smiled into her coffee mug, feeling wicked. For some reason, Grandma Russell’s accurate suspicion that Mike had stayed over didn’t embarrass her. She was a grown woman, after all. And her grandmother, for one, didn’t sound the least be offended. “Why, Grandma Russell!” Carrie said, feigning shock.
“Goodness, child,” her grandmother retorted, “I wasn’t born yesterday. So, tell me. I’m all ears. Did he pop the question?”
Carrie frowned. “No.”
“No?” her grandmother said with surprise. “Well, that’s a man for you. Probably waiting till the time is right.”
Now, it was Carrie’s turn to be surprised.
“Grandma Russell, you are one cagey old bird, aren’t you? How ever did you know?”
“Tweet, tweet,” her grandma said with a chuckle. “Oh darling, just because my hair’s gone mostly gray doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten entirely how the male species operates. You can chase them back all you’d like during the courting stage, but when it comes to asking the ‘big one’ most men still want to feel like it’s their idea. Even if it generally isn’t.”
Carrie took a sip of her coffee and sat in the big easy chair that afforded her a view of the mountains. “Men!” she said, but her mood was lighthearted. He’d said he loved her. Loved her! And then, that talk about making things permanent.
“Indeed,” Grandma Russell answered. “But who, honestly, wants to live without them?”
Carrie knew that she didn’t, not any longer than she possibly had to.
“So,” her grandma asked. “We still on for the 23rd? The caterer phoned this morning wanting the second half of her money.”
Carrie hesitated. Talk about risky investments... But now was not the time to push Mike with a time-table. Her grandmother was right. At this point, it was important for him to take things on his own terms. To go at his own pace. Carrie thumped the table nervously with her free hand. “Sure,” she said, biting into her bottom lip. “Why not? It’s only money.”
Grandma Russell laughed. “You child, are probably the only person I know who could say that and really mean it.”
Mike got down on one knee and looked up at his father. “Okay Dad, tell me how this sounds...”
“What you got your elbows all sticking out for? You trying to imitate a chicken?”
Mike pursed his lips and stood. “Are you going to cooperate or aren’t you? I thought you liked her.”
“Love her, son. She’s a regular doll. And, not so incidentally, probably way too good for you. But I can’t for the life of me understand what you’re all so hellfire worried over. You never practiced up for any of the others.”
Mike blew a hard breath and ran his fingers through his hair. “Well maybe, the other times weren’t nearly as important.”
His Dad laughed and shook his head. “You, boy, are the only man I know who asks women to marry him just as easily as most ask girls out for burgers.”
“You aiming to insult me?” Mike asked setting his hands on his hips.
“Nope. Just wondering. Does Carrie know about the long line of others before her?”
“She knows about Alexia.”
“And what about Marianne? The one with the big..." Jack made a curvy motion in the air with his hands.
“You really do have a one-track mind, you know that?
Jack twisted his lips in scrutiny. “You’re really going to do it this time, aren’t you? What about that island thing? You always said if you found the right girl to share your dream...”
Mike felt the sweat form at his brow. “Carrie doesn’t even know about that island thing. Besides,” he said, unable to keep his cheeks from sagging just a bit, “like you’re so fond saying, Dad, you can’t have at all. At least, not if you come from the same side of the tracks we do.”
Jack raised his eyebrows and studied his son. “If you’ll recall, boy, another thing that I’m fond of saying is, it never hurts to ask. Have you even talked with her about it?”
“Ridiculous,” Mike said, shaking his head. “The whole notion is pie-in-the-sky at this point. Besides, if she says yes to my proposal, I’m going to have to find a way to up my income here. Not go tossing pennies in a far-off well. I’ve been thinking that maybe I could talk my broker, Colleen, into making me a partner. My sales have been really high lately, after all.”
“I thought Carrie was well-off.”
“Exceptionally well-off. Precisely why I can’t let her think I won’t carry my weight. Maybe it’s old-fashioned of me, but I inherited my values from you.”
His dad gave him a proud smile.
“Now,” Mike said, dropping back down on his knees. “You going to help me with this or not?”
Jack held out a leathered hand. “Yes, dear,” he said, in a high falsetto. “You were saying that I hung the moon...?”
Carrie walked into her office and dropped some files on her secretary’s desk. “Mary?” Carrie said, looking down at the trim young woman. “Didn’t expect to find you here on a Sunday.”
Mary pushed her gold wire-rim glasses up a bit higher on the bridge of her nose. “Yes, ma’am. Well, it seems that we’ve fallen a bit...uh, behind this week.”
Carrie flushed knowing that was because of her series of unexcused absences.
“Just here catching up.”
“Great,” Carrie smiled. “Me too." Since she and Mike had slept in, they’d completely missed the opportunity for the Ashton Academy reunion picnic. Yet somehow, that thought hadn’t mattered to either of them.
Carrie walked back to her desk, dismayed to find the pink message notes practically spilling off of it. She really had been gone a while. And now, she thought looking down at her watch, since it was Sunday there wasn’t much she could do about the phone calls. Well there was computer work to do. And, she could check up on the stock reports, compose some letters.
Carrie plopped down in her chair, the brilliance of an idea hitting her. He hadn’t mentioned it in days. But then again, in spite of her deepest desires, Carry hadn’t exactly been spouting picket fences either. Mike was just the sort of man to give up his dream for the woman he loved. But what he still didn’t know was that, in love, all things were possible.
“Mary,” she said, calling out to her secretary. “Do we still have that old file on the Caymans?”
“Acquisition proposal?” Mary called back.
“That’s the one." The thick one that contained all that research Mary’d done on property availability and ‘Mom and Pop’ investment opportunities.
“Yes, ma’am. Got it around here somewhere. Though some of that information is bound to be dated.”
“How long will it take you to correct that?”
“About twenty-four hours,” Mary said, carting the heavy file over to Carrie’s desk with a smile.
****
Chapter Sixteen
Mike strode purposefully into his broker’s office, a broad smile on his face. “Colleen,” he announced. “I’m getting married.”
Colleen raised her eyebrows above the listings she was perusing, but didn’t look up. “That’s nice." She laid down the papers and pulled a pen from her desk drawer. “Mike,” she said, circling a few of the real estate offerings detailed before her. “These are the ones I want you to call on first.”
Mike stepped forward and snatched the stack off of her desk. “Colleen! Didn’t you hear me? I said --”
Colleen cocked her head to the side and called out in a big, bellowing tone that attracted the attention of two agents working at the copier, “Call a news conference! Send out the releases! Mike Davis is getting married...”
He glared at her.
“Again,” she finished more quietly.
The other agents, a man and a woman, both junior colleagues of Mike’s went back to work with respective shrugs.
“Listen Mike,” Colleen said, clearing her throat and looking combative. Her eyes were an icy blue that matched the color of the glasses chain around her neck. Glasses, Mike had noticed, she never seemed to wear but often seemed to look for. “Your little absences last week put us in quite a pinch here. You owe Megan and Kurt over there, and owe them big time for picking up your slack.”
Mike sunk down in the chair opposite her desk, figuring now might not be the best time to ask for a raise.
“You don’t watch yourself, young man, you’re going to be out of a job.”
Oh, no. That would be even worse than failing to secure a promotion. Mike gave a pleading smile and strived to look humble. “I’m so sorry, Colleen. Really, I am. But the thing that came up last week was -- unavoidable.”
“Unavoidable for five days runnin
g?”
“No, I came in on Friday.”
Colleen squinted.
“For half a day,” Mike said, hanging his head.
She sat there waiting like a Mother Confessor.
“Listen, Colleen. Haven’t you ever been in love. I mean, really in love?”
“Yes,” she answered flatly. “But apparently not as many times as you have.”
Mike leaned forward and accepted the real estate listings she was extending in his direction.
“The top ones first,” she said. “They need screening for an out of town client. And, since not all of them came with pictures --”
“No problem,” Mike said, standing. “I’ll get on it right away.”
Carrie had tossed and turned all night, excited at the prospect of her new project. But was she really doing the right thing? What if Mike hated the idea, or resented her getting involved in his professional life? Unasked, no less.
Carrie looked in the mirror and tugged at her cheeks, dismayed to see the puffy bags under her eyes didn’t dissipate. Maybe she should just ask him. Flat out.
But, no. That would completely ruin the surprise. Carrie had seen the way his eyes had sparkled at the mention of moving to the Caymans. Once, she was certain, that had been his goal. But now, with her in the picture, could it be he was planning to put it aside? He hadn’t even mentioned it since that early conversation back at the inn. Maybe he thought the idea wouldn’t appeal to her.
Carrie considered how awful it would be to have something, or even somebody unwittingly, discourage your dream. Since the time she’d entered college and worked her way through, Carrie had pursued everything that was important to her. Nobody had ever told her that she couldn’t. And her Grandma Russell, bless her, had always said that all she had to do was try.
Having been employed by a large New York investment firm right out of grad school, Carrie had been lucky in business. It wasn’t long before she was making good money and, because she honestly didn’t have a lot of places to spend it, the money had amassed quickly. Before long people were coming to her for favors, or opportunities for helping people just seemed to land at her feet. There was her favorite hotdog vendor with his dream of opening up his own deli, her coworker who’s aunt’s independent bookstore was on the brink of foreclosure and badly needed refinancing, her apartment manager who was quite sure, if he had the funds, he could turn his dilapidated building into some of the finest condominiums on New York’s Upper East side.