A Bride for Jericho Bravo

by Christine Rimmer

  Dax collected all kinds of vehicles. If Jericho had known that Girard was going to be there, he probably would have been less worried about how much the chopper would bring. It was Girard’s kind of thing—meaning it had a powerful engine and it was one-of-a-kind.

  They didn’t get back to Ash and Tessa’s until almost four. Ash suggested a nightcap and they all filed in for a last drink.

  Jericho was just realizing he was going to have to take Gus and Gabriella home before he could get Marnie alone. But then Gus and Gabriella said goodnight and headed for the door without him. Jericho trailed after them.

  On the front step, Gus tipped his head toward the limo driver still parked at the curb. “Ash had the driver wait. You go on back to the lady in red. We’ve got a ride.”

  Jericho grabbed him in a bear hug. “What a night, huh?”

  “You did good, son,” Gus told him softly before he turned and started down the walk, his hand at the small of Gabriella’s back. She glanced back and gave Jericho a wave and then she smiled at Gus. Gus pulled her a little closer. They’d had a thing once, a few years ago. Watching them now, Jericho wondered if maybe it was still going on.

  Gabriella was a fine woman. And she and Gus looked really good together.

  When he turned around, Marnie was waiting. She held out her hand. He called goodnight to Ash and Tessa and they went back through the house, past the bulldog sleeping in the corner of the kitchen, to the white cat sitting by the glass door.

  “Gigi, no,” Marnie told the cat.

  Tail high, the cat strutted off toward the family room. They went out, engaging the lock behind them.

  In the guesthouse, he turned her around and untied the laces at the back of her dress. She held up her arms and he pulled it over her head.

  They kissed. And then, before he could do more, she bent and untied his black shoes, slipping them off and then his socks after them. She made him take off his tux and fold it neatly over a chair.

  “You’re driving me crazy,” he muttered. “You know that?”

  She gave a throaty laugh. “That’s pretty much the plan.” And then, taking her time, she peeled away that tiny bit of strapless bra, the sexy little thong. And last of all, her red high-heel sandals.

  Then, finally, she came to him. When he kissed her, when he took her down onto the bed, he tried not to imagine what it might be like.

  If the two weeks they had left could somehow, magically, stretch out into forever. If The End never came.

  But the two weeks that followed were nothing at all like forever. The days whizzed by faster than a world-class chopper, wide open on the big slab.

  They worked. They rode in the evening. They spent every night together. By then, he wasn’t even bothering to get up and go to his place while it was still dark. He wanted every moment he could get with her. He stayed at her side.

  The next weekend came. They went to the cabin. They made love. They rode up to Austin again. They talked and laughed.

  And then, all of a sudden, it was her last week. Gus heard from Desiree Monday. She would back the next Monday, right on schedule.

  Monday went by and then Tuesday, every moment a pure pleasure. And then lost, gone, over way too fast.

  Wednesday, Gus asked for a partners meeting at lunch. The two of them went to the coffee shop down the street.

  Gus had his laptop with him. “Look at this.” He turned the screen Jericho’s way. “See that red line, the way it goes up at a roughly seventy-five-degree angle? That’s our merchandise sales in the past five weeks, at the counter and through the Web site, which Marnie has seriously updated.”

  “Cut to the chase,” Jericho said darkly, even though he already knew exactly where this was going.

  Gus sent him a sideways glance. But then he went on without commenting on Jericho’s attitude. “We can clear out that small storeroom on the other side of the front office for her. She can help Desiree at the counter and be our merchandising director. She’ll be paying her own salary from the first. She has a knack for bringing it in. Within a year, with her working the gift shop and keeping the Web site current and fresh, I’m projecting eight thousand and change pure profit. That’s the first year. She’s already on me with ways to expand, ways to grow the profile and build name recognition. We do fine now. With Marnie Jones on board, we’ll do a whole lot better than fine.”

  It sounded good to Jericho. Too good. He had to shut his mouth tight over the urge to give Gus the go-ahead, to say, Sure, why don’t you ask her what she thinks….

  He had to remember that this was not the plan. Marnie had stuff to do in her life. Marnie needed to go home, to have a long talk with that nice, stable boyfriend of hers, who had realized what a fool he’d been and only wanted her back. It wouldn’t be right to try and hold her in Texas.

  “No.” He pushed the laptop back around so it was facing Gus. “Let her go,” he said.

  Gus stared at him. And then he shook his head. “I thought you were through with being stupid.”

  “I’m doing the right thing.”

  “The hell you are. You’re being stupid.”

  “Gus. I’m not jacking around. Let her go.”

  Gus left it alone after that—left him alone.

  Jericho knew his longtime friend was seriously ticked off at him. After their meeting at the café, Gus spent a lot of time in his office, with only his pit bulls for company.

  Too bad. Gus would get over it.

  And Marnie would go home.

  Which was good. For the best. Jericho was absolutely sure of that.

  Friday night, it all went to hell.

  It was after they had made love and they were lying in bed. He had an arm wrapped around her and she rested her head on his shoulder. The world smelled of apples and rain and he was feeling good, satisfied, doing a decent job of keeping his mind from wandering off onto the subject of her leaving.

  Which was coming up fast. The next day was her last at SA Choppers.

  She said, “I’ve been thinking…”

  He didn’t like the sound of that. I’ve been thinking. It spoke to him of dangerous possibilities, of the clear chance that she would soon have him focusing on the very subject he was trying to avoid.

  “I’ve done a hell of a great job at SA Choppers,” she said.

  He couldn’t argue with that. “Yeah. You have.”

  “I have seriously crunched the numbers…”

  He lay very still. As if by not moving, he could keep her from saying what she was going to say next.

  Not a chance. Proudly, she told him what he already knew. “I’ve made back my salary in increased merchandise sales, did you know that?”

  “Yeah. I know that.” He ran a finger down the silky flesh of her arm. Maybe if he made love to her again before she went any further with this….

  But she kept on. “I’ve been thinking that you guys could afford to hire me and keep Desiree.”

  “Marnie—”

  She wiggled away from him enough to prop herself up on an elbow. “I’m serious. Think about it—I mean, don’t just say no automatically. Really consider what I’m telling you. I love this job. I know we said—and I always just assumed—that I would go back to California once the job was over. But you know, I think I might as well stop kidding myself. I might as well go ahead and admit that I don’t want to go. And if I can make money for you guys and enough to live on, too, well, everybody wins.”

  “Marnie. Come on. You can do better for yourself.”

  She rolled on top of him, caught his face in her two soft hands and kissed him hard. “What are you talking about? Better? There is no better. I like it here. I love it here. Suddenly, I’m living the life I never let myself dream I could, the right life, for me.”

  “We planned—”

  She shut him up with another hard kiss. “Listen to me. Plans change. And that’s why I was thinking, you know, what if I…talk to Gus about it?”

  He took her by the arms. “Marn
ie, you’re not listening.”

  “Uh-uh. You’re not listening.”

  “Marnie. No.” He said it loud. And then he said it again. “No.”

  She stared down at him, her lower lip trembling. “Let go of me.” He released her. She slid off him and rolled onto her back. A long, raw moment went by, where neither of them said anything. And then, in a near whisper, she asked, “Just like that? Just…no?”

  “Marnie. It’s not the right thing for you.”

  “You don’t get to decide what’s right for me. I get to decide that.”

  “Marnie, I…” he reached for her.

  She only scooted farther away. “Don’t. Just…don’t, okay?”

  The words were there, inside him. They pushed, hard, at the back of his throat, demanding to be said. I love you. You’re all I want. All I’ve ever dreamed of.

  But he didn’t say them. She could do better. She would do better. He would see to that.

  She had her head turned toward him, waiting.

  He looked straight at her. And he spoke flatly. “It’s a bad idea.”

  “Why?”

  “You need to go back home, work things out.”

  “Work what out?”

  No damn way he was mentioning that idiot’s name. “Look. I told you I wasn’t up for any long-term thing.”

  Tears brimmed in those big blue eyes. But she didn’t let them fall. She drew in a shaky breath. “Oh. Right. I knew that.”

  He hated himself. But he was absolutely certain he was doing a good thing here. He sat up, pushed back the covers. “I’ll go.” He swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

  She said, so softly, “Just like that, huh? You walk out. It’s over and done?”

  He didn’t turn to look at her. Instead, he stared blindly at the far wall. “Yeah. Just like that.” He was certain that would do it.

  Not with Marnie. The bed shifted as she sat up. “I think you really should turn around and face me when you’re dumping me.”

  He winced. “It’s not like that. You know it’s not.”

  “Oh, I think by now I should know when a guy is dumping me. Look at me,” she commanded.

  So he turned. He looked.

  She sat very straight, the sheet drawn close to cover her perfect little breasts, her strong jaw set. “The truth is I already talked to Gus.”

  He considered that. Should he have known that she would? Probably. He shrugged. “And what did Gus say?”

  “You know what he said.”

  “Tell me anyway.”

  “He said he’d already tried to talk you into hiring me, that he told you I could make money for you.”

  He refused to look away. “Hey. Money isn’t everything.”

  “Gus said you told him no, and since you two are partners, you have to both be on board with it before he can hire me.”

  “That’s right.”

  She made a sound. It might have been a laugh. Or something darker. “And you’re not on board with it.”

  “No.”

  “But—”

  “Marnie. No.”

  She went on anyway, in a small voice. “Even if you don’t want to be with me, I don’t see why I couldn’t—”

  “Stop. Give it up. It’s a nonstarter. Forget about it. Go back to California.”

  The silence stretched on forever. Finally she nodded. “Well, all right. If that’s how you want it, I’m gone.”

  So he got up. He put on his clothes. And he left her for the last time.

  It had happened, just as he’d known it would. The End had finally come.

  Marnie didn’t get it. How could it be like this?

  Somehow, Jericho’s ending it with her was even worse than when Mark dumped her.

  It made no sense that it should be worse. Mark had been her best friend. They’d lived together for years. She had believed that Mark was the man she would marry.

  But still.

  Losing Jericho was worse. Marnie felt like her heart was breaking all over again, shattering into a thousand tiny pieces this time, never to be put back together again.

  She tried to tell herself she was being ridiculous. She’d known all along that this would happen. Jericho had told her how it would be. She had agreed with him, made jokes about his being her hot rebound guy.

  And really, some things just didn’t last and that was the beauty of them. She needed to remember that. Sometimes a love affair was like a flower. It bloomed. And then it died. And the very shortness of its life made you appreciate it more.

  The whole point had been that it was supposed to be temporary, a fling. But somehow, hardly realizing what she was doing, she had let herself start thinking forever. She’d had no right to do that. But she had anyway.

  In the morning, early, she went over to the main house and told Tessa and Ash that she would be leaving the next day. Ash looked kind of stunned.

  Tessa just took her hand and walked her back to the guesthouse. Once they were inside, she shut the French door and leaned back against it. “I wish you would stay.”

  Marnie shook her head. “No. Really. Gotta go.”

  “Did something happen with Jericho?”

  “Nothing we didn’t expect from the beginning.”

  Tessa did what she did so well. She held out her arms. Marnie went into them and held on tight.

  When Marnie finally let go, she offered tea. They shared a cup. Tessa asked her to come back when the baby was born. Marnie promised that she would.

  “And tonight, come over to the house for dinner?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  When Tessa left, the phone rang.

  It was Grandpa Oggie. Marnie told him that she was heading home the next day.

  Her grandpa chuckled over that for some unknown reason. He could be so annoying. And after that cackling chuckle of his, he shouted, “What’s that they say? Home is where the heart is.”

  Was he getting senile? She couldn’t help wondering. “Grandpa, I really have to go now. I have one more day of work left and if I don’t leave, I’ll be late. I’ll see you Tuesday or Wednesday.”

  Her grandpa said nothing. Probably because he’d already hung up.

  In spite of what she’d just said to her grandfather, she considered not showing up at SA Choppers after all. It was her last day. She doubted anyone would fault her for calling it quits a little early. Gus would understand. And Jericho would probably be relieved.

  But no. She’d made a commitment to be there until Desiree returned. Even with her silly heart in pieces, she would keep her word on that. She was not going to collapse this time. Forget throwing everything in the car and running away. She would not go crazy.

  She was stronger than that. Better than that.

  At least she’d learned that much now.

  Besides, it was only a half day. How hard could it be?

  Too hard, as it turned out.

  She spent the whole morning with her stomach in a knot and her mind on everything but work. She kept waiting for Jericho to show up in the front office. He never did.

  At noon, as she was moving on autopilot, getting ready to check out for the last time, Little Ted appeared with a cake.

  A goodbye cake. For her.

  The other guys came up front, too. And Gus emerged from his office, followed by Chichi and Dave. The dogs stretched out on the floor behind the counter. And Gus made a little speech about how they would all miss her. Everybody started clapping. There were even whistles. And a catcall or two.

  It was right then, while they were all clapping, that Jericho slipped in from the shop.

  She was careful not to meet his eyes. She gazed blankly into the middle distance, pasted on a smile for the rest of them and said, “Thank you. I’ll never forget you—not any of you. And when I’m gone you’d better get someone to dust the gift area, or I will come back and haunt you.” She turned to Gus, who was looking at her so fondly that the shattered pieces of heart ached all the harder. “Can we cut the cak
e now?”

  Little Ted stepped forward with a big knife. “Go to it.”

  She concentrated on that, on cutting the cake with We’ll Miss You, Marnie in black icing on the top, and loading the pieces onto paper plates. The next time she glanced toward the door to the shop, Jericho was gone.

  It’s fine, she thought. It’s best this way. I don’t need to see him again. We’ve already said everything that needs saying.

  They made short work of the cake. She got hugs from all the guys.

  And that was it. Time to go. Gus gave her the envelope containing her last paycheck. “Come here,” he said.

  He led her outside, where Karen’s bike was loaded onto a flatbed trailer.

  She knew what was happening, she just couldn’t believe it. “Gus, no. It’s not right. I couldn’t—”

  He grabbed her in a hard hug. “Angel, you can. And you will. Karen would have liked you. And she never would have wanted her bike to end up stuck in the corner of the garage under a tarp.” He took her by the shoulders and held her away from him. Those black eyes were shiny with moisture. “Goggle the horizon.”

  She blinked away tears and nodded. “I will. I swear it.”

  He followed her back to Tessa’s, where he unloaded the bike and she rolled it into the garage, next to her car. And then, after one last hug, he gave her an envelope with the bike’s paperwork in it. And he was gone.

  In the guesthouse, she called U-Haul. They told her where to go in San Antonio to rent the small trailer she would need to haul her new bike back to California. And then she got out her suitcases and she started packing.

  She had a stack of bras in one hand and fistful of thongs in the other when she realized that someone was knocking on the French door in the living room.

  Jericho?

  Just the idea that he might have come back, might have decided it wasn’t over with them after all—just thinking of the possibility that it might be him—had the thousand pieces of her heart trying instantly to reassemble themselves.