Adding Up to Marriage

by Karen Templeton

  What was that old saying? If this was wrong, he didn’t want to be right?

  It’d been a long, long time since Silas had fooled around with his babies asleep right down the hall, since he’d experienced the skin-tingling thrill of heightened awareness that went with it. Since he’d fooled around, period. But, cloaked in the near-darkness as each lingering, lazy kiss melted into the next, the initial prickles of anxiety also melted, into I-can-die-happy-now anticipation.

  Until the sudden pressure of Jewel’s hands on his shoulders brought his head up to see the same old ghosts of ambivalence in her eyes. Brushing her hair off her cheek, he smiled, even if it was probably a little shaky. “Change your mind?”

  “And wouldn’t you be one miserable dude if I had?”

  Wrapping one arm around her waist, Silas shifted them on the cushions to put some breathing space between her thigh and his erection. “I’d survive.”

  Now on her side, Jewel carefully wedged her elbow between Silas and the back of the couch to prop her head in her hand. “I’m not backing out, Si. Promise. But…you do know this is a one-off, right?”

  Of course he knew that. Had known from the moment, hours before, when their eyes locked in the kitchen and want bounced back and forth between them like a flubberized Ping-Pong ball. Which is why he kicked disappointment right out on its sorry butt.

  “I kinda figured. Hey…” He stroked his thumb across her cheek. “Is that what’s bothering you? That you think I’m expecting more from you than you’re ready to give?” When, after a moment, she nodded, he slipped his hand underneath her now loose hair, kissed her lightly on the mouth and tugged her down to cuddle, ignoring disappointment over there in the corner making faces at him. “Then maybe you should stop thinking so much,” he said softly, “and simply enjoy the moment. Because I certainly intend to.”

  Hesitantly, she traced one finger across his pecs. “You’re really okay with that?”

  He pushed out a short, dry laugh. “I haven’t had sex in more than two years. What do you think?”

  “Get out!” She wriggled free to prop herself up again. “Two years?”

  “Nice to know you’ve been swapping spit with the biggest freak on the planet, right?”

  “Actually…it’s kind of sweet. In a freaky kind of way.” She settled in again. “Any particular reason?”

  Silas paused, weighing his answer. “Didn’t even think about it that much, to be truthful. Okay, I thought about it,” he said when she chuckled. “But I wasn’t motivated to do anything more than that.” His fingers drifted up and down her arm. “Until a little bit ago.”

  When the scales fell from my eyes.

  “But hey,” she said. “No pressure.”

  “None at all. Honey…I really do understand that things are up in the air for you right now. So I’m okay about this being whatever you want it to be, as long as you’re up-front with me about that. Only thing that’ll make me mad is if you say or do something because you think that’s what I want you to say or do.”

  She frowned. “I’d never do that. Especially to you. I’m not even sure I’m capable of it.”

  “I know you’re not.” In fact, her honesty was probably the main reason they were here right now. Issues, she had, but game-playing wasn’t one of them. Sexiest thing ever.

  Never mind that he was doing the very thing he’d made her promise not to do—saying what he knew she needed to hear. To a certain extent, anyway. Because he didn’t want her to feel she had to pretend with him, or feel pressured into something she wasn’t ready for. The point was to make her feel safe, that she could trust him. And how could he do that if he told her how he really felt?

  Just your average, everyday moral dilemma, yep.

  “So,” she said. “What now?”

  “So…we could keep making out and make ourselves crazy, stop making out and make ourselves crazier…or move things into my bedroom—which has an actual lock on the door—and get as crazy as we want.”

  She paused. “Thought you didn’t do crazy.”

  “Yeah, surprised the hell out of me, too,” he said, then stood and hauled her into his arms in one surprisingly smooth motion, considering how long it’d been since he’d attempted such a thing, and she curled herself around him, completely trusting he wouldn’t let her fall.

  Even though he was in far more danger of that than she was.

  The thing was, Jewel wasn’t one of those women who pondered things a great deal during sex. Well, unless it was really bad—you know, the kind where you’re wondering Oh, dear heaven, is this ever going to be over? or you sort of lose focus and start thinking about all the stuff you have to do the next day. When the sex was good, though, she’d found that more often than not the whole experience was one big rush of sensation and not a lot of point-by-point detail.

  Such, however, was not the case this time. Not that sensations weren’t rushing and all, but losing focus? Not an option. She should’ve known, the man was a freaking accountant, details were his life.

  And now, they were hers.

  She’d had no idea her upper arms were erogenous zones. Or her knees. Or the space between her shoulder blades. Or, that by the time he actually got around to the parts that were supposed to be erogenous zones, she’d be a basket case. As in writhing, whimpering and whining, which for some bizarre reason only egged him on. She also wondered—just idly, you understand, the merest passing thought—what on earth was wrong with his ex, to have voluntarily walked away from—

  “Oh!” Jewel’s head dropped back as Silas cupped her bottom and lowered his mouth—

  This.

  About that attention to detail thing…uh, yeah. As in, let’s take our time, shall we? As in, dude was clearly having every bit as much fun as she was, which was going some since right now there were some major fireworks going off in her brain. Not to mention—

  Holy moly, she thought, biting her lip to stifle what would have been the scream to end all screams, as befitted the orgasm to end all orgasms. Lord, she’d be trembling from this one for a week. Then he slipped inside her, and she thought, Okay, fine, your turn, only fair, except—

  Oh.

  Oh, wow. Was this even possible?

  Apparently so, since not long after a very nice aftershock in the 5.4 range or so rumbled through, right about the time Silas’s Big One struck.

  All of which would have struck her funny—well, actually, it did, she burst into a fit of muffled laughter right after—only then Silas’s eyes caught hers and panic streaked through her as she realized, Oh, fudge—you lied!

  Over the imp’s reeeeeally loud Gotcha! in her head.

  It’s okay, you can still salvage this, ignore the imp and play it cool—

  Right. Except for the small issue of Silas looking so…happy. And not happy like a man who just scored—well, maybe a little, around the eyes—but happy, happy.

  As in, in love, happy. Or so Jewel guessed, her experience in such matters being somewhat limited.

  Lying on his side, Silas looped an arm around her waist, his face all sappy and grinny and dopey. She couldn’t handle the sappy/grinny/dopey face. She couldn’t.

  “That was fun,” he whispered, his thumb toying with the underside of one little A-cup breast. A breast which he’d said was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, right before he proved how much, in this case, size doesn’t matter. Her nipple tingled, begging. More, please?

  Right about the same time her heart said pretty much the same thing. Only louder. Because now Silas was the one inviting her inside, both offering her sanctuary and laying more than two years’ worth of caution on the altar…for her.

  “Sure was,” Jewel said, pushing her mouth into a smile before pushing herself upright. “And ohmigosh, look at the time. We’re both gonna be like zombies in the morning—”

  She fought her way out of the tangled linens to look for her clothes, realizing this didn’t exactly qualify as playing it cool. Behind her, she heard Silas sigh,
then get up to yank his pajama bottoms back on.

  “You know, if this had been ten years ago,” he said quietly, “I would have assumed either one or both of us was having drunken regrets or my skills in the sack were lacking. Since neither of us has been drinking that puts paid to option number one. And since I’m also gonna go out on a limb and guess you weren’t faking it, that shoots option number two all to hell, too. So what’s wrong?”

  Zipping up her skirt, Jewel hmmphed out a laugh. And ignored his question. “You’ve never had a drunken regret in your life.”

  “No, but I’ve had plenty of sober ones.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his arms fold across his bare chest. “And I’m sure hoping this isn’t one of them. Not for my sake, Jewel—I’m a big boy, I can handle your buyer’s remorse. But it appears you can’t.”

  Her arms through her T-shirt, she jerked down the hem. “This isn’t buyer’s remorse! I knew exactly what I was doing when I went to bed with you!”

  “Except that was before and this is now. And judging from the look on your face, I’m guessing now isn’t so good, is it?” Obvious consternation twisting his features, he took a step closer. “It was just like you said, honey—two adults, one night of enjoying each other. Nothing more than that—”

  “Liar!” she said, keeping her voice low, knowing how easily children could hear the grownups arguing. “That’s not all it was for you! Was it?”

  He didn’t react. Not outwardly, at least. Instead all he did was stand there, his gaze probing. She tore hers away, but not before she saw that knowing, gentle smile curve his mouth.

  “Maybe not. But is that really why you’re upset right now? Or because…that’s not all it was for you?”

  Heat flooding her face, Jewel rammed her arms into her sweater, muttering, “Noah said the house is ready, I think it’s best I go back there tonight. You’ll…” Oh, brother. “I don’t know when I’ll be here tomorrow. Is that a problem?”

  Instead of replying, he walked over to take her face in his hands and kiss her. Long. Slow. Sweet. With just enough You’re mine now, baby in there to make her knees wobble. Because, dammit, she wanted to be his. To be somebody’s. Even though she knew it was stupid.

  “We’ll be fine, honey,” he said, silently opening the bedroom door for her. “And so will you.”

  Not so sure about that, she thought, grabbing her boots from the floor and her glasses off the table, her qualms scurrying to catch up with her again as she fled.

  Chapter Eleven

  Her arms tightly crossed over the raggedy Betty Boop nightshirt she’d left behind when she moved into Silas’s, Jewel stared at her cell phone, vibrating on the kitchen table in front of her. She didn’t answer it, even though she knew she should. Even though she knew it was Silas—he’d already phoned and texted her a dozen times since 7:00 a.m.—and if she didn’t answer he was likely to show up on her doorstep. Because that’s the kind of man he was.

  The kind of man who made love like it was his mission to make her happy, who had no problem asking exactly what it would take to accomplish that. And then thanking her after he did what she asked and her head exploded. Among other things.

  The kind of man to make a girl go and fall in love with him, even though she’d made it more than clear she didn’t want to do that.

  Bzzzzt.

  She snatched the damn phone off the table, her heart whomping against her sternum as she read the succinct text.

  You okay?

  Leave it to Silas to actually write both words out, she thought on a sigh, then texted back, yes. fine. c u later

  An inevitability, alas, since she still had small boys to tend for another few days at least. Drat.

  She jumped up to toss on a pair of jeans and a cropped sweater, then stomped into the living room to crash onto the sofa, hauling Holistic Midwifery—also left behind—into her lap. Nope, focusing not happening.

  Not on midwifery, anyway. Not while every molecule that made up her being was still doing the happy sigh thing. Traitors.

  The outside world beckoned. As did Evangelista’s homemade cinnamon rolls and a breakfast burrito. Her stomach growling in agreement, Jewel stuffed her feet into her boots and the book into a backpack and practically ran out of the house, embracing the slimmest of slim hopes the two mile trek down the mountain would at least lull all those happy-sighing molecules to sleep.

  Right. Like she was gonna walk this off?

  Frowning, hands stuffed in jacket pockets, she marched along the side of the road, occasionally blinking against the flashes of sunlight darting through the yellowing trees. Yes, she could’ve walked away. Could’ve stayed in control. After all, nobody’d forced her into the man’s bed. That things hadn’t gone the way she’d deluded herself into thinking they would wasn’t anybody’s fault but her own.

  And maybe—just maybe—that’s not such a bad thing?

  Jewel stopped dead in her tracks, dust blowing in her face as an old Chevy pickup roared past. So falling for Silas—for anybody—hadn’t been part of her game plan. So what? Was she really that afraid to take the next step, to simply see where things went after this?

  And that would be a resounding You betcha, sister.

  Right there in the middle of the road, Jewel let out a frustrated screech, pounding her forehead with the heels of her hands. Then, feeling marginally better, she continued down the mountain.

  “Hey there, baby doll!” Evangelista Ortega called out when Jewel shouldered through the door thirty minutes later. The bosomy proprietress of the only decent restaurant in town—okay, the only restaurant in town—waddled over to engulf Jewel in a hug. “Haven’t seen you in a while. How’s things going?”

  To hell, Jewel thought, even as she said, “Oh. Fine,” extricating herself from the woman’s embrace before she suffocated. Then she grinned, even if it felt more like a grimace. “I’m delivering babies myself now!”

  “Oh, yeah? Felicitaciónes, chica! I also hear you’ve been doing the nanny thing for Silas Garrett, no?”

  Yep, definitely a grimace. “Uh, yeah. So. Busy. Um…you mind if I hang out here and study?”

  Evangelista gave her a funny look, but jerked her thumb over her shoulder at an empty table all the way in the back. “Jus’ cleaned that one up, it’s yours. You wan’ breakfas’?” she said as Jewel unloaded her backpack and settled in.

  “Do I want breakfast? Juice, breakfast burrito and two cinnamon rolls. Oh, and I have money, I can actually pay—”

  “Don’ even go there!” the other woman said with a swat, then laughed. “Although the way you eat? It’s probably a good thing you don’ come in more often than you do!”

  Jewel slouched in the chair, sparing a grin for the young waitress who brought her order, stuffing a chunk of warm warm, fragrant, gooey cinnamon roll into her mouth before the gal turned her back. Bliss. Fifteen minutes later, her tummy appeased and finally absorbed in the textbook, she’d finally started feeling almost normal again.

  Until the restaurant’s front door opened and her mother cried out, “There you are, baby!” and she felt like she’d swallowed the fifteen-hundred-page hardcover whole.

  The moon, Jewel thought. Maybe that would be far enough away….

  Bedecked in a flippy skirt, fuzzy sweater and a fake fur vest, Kathryn glided through a dozen tables to plop herself across from Jewel…and thrust a diamond the size of Nebraska in her face.

  “I’m in love and I’m gettin’ married!” her mother sang out, which earned her a smattering of applause from the other patrons.

  Just…no, Jewel thought, stunned. Her mother, signaling for a cup of coffee, appeared not to notice.

  “It only happened last night, but I couldn’t tell you over the phone. I had to do it in person.” Then she snatched her hand back to wriggle it in the sunlight dancing across the table. “Isn’t it gorgeous?” Kathryn glanced over, glowing more than the diamond. Than the sun, for that matter. “Well, come on, sugar—aren’t you going to c
ongratulate me?”

  The coffee arrived. “Tell me first who my new daddy is and I’ll think about it.”

  Giggling, her mother tore open a package of fake sugar, upended it. “Why Monty, of course! Who else?”

  “Monty. The Monty who broke up with you a few weeks ago?”

  Mama batted her hand. The diamond encrusted one, naturally. “Oh, that was just a silly lover’s tiff. He’s the sweetest man, baby.” Holding out her hand again to admire the ring, her mother sighed, then took a delicate sip of her decaf. “The sweetest man.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Jewel said dryly, even as the cinnamon rolls and burrito rebelled in her stomach. “Having never met him. Come to think of it, I don’t even know his last name.”

  “James. Montgomery Hamilton James. He’s a businessman with a biiiig—” this demonstrated by her mother’s stretching out her arms so wide she nearly clipped Christine, the waitress “—ranch in Texas.”

  Jewel felt a headache coming on. “And exactly how did you meet a Texas businessman-slash-rancher in Albuquerque?”

  “Actually we connected online. Through one of those Internet dating sites?”

  Jewel opened her mouth only to clamp it shut again, especially since her mother immediately launched into a soliloquy about the whens/wheres/hows of the wedding and how she wanted Jewel to be her maid of honor and how Monty was going to let her redecorate the ranch house…and, oh, he was making her sign a prenup but that was only a formality, but he had to be careful because his last two wives had taken him to the cleaners—

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Last two wives? Out of how many?”

  “Um…let’s see…”

  “You don’t know?”

  She might’ve screeched that last part.

  Kathryn’s brow crinkled. Slightly. “Of course I know. But…you’re probably not going to take this well—”

  “You’re probably right. Well?”

  “Four.”

  “You’re about to marry a man who’s been married four times before?”

  She definitely screeched that.

  “Well, shoot, baby, I’ve made the trek up the aisle three times myself. What’s the big deal?”