Gil had a dimple, Ethan realized with disgust. It poked a hole in his cheek when he smiled ever-so-charmingly at Cleo. “You don’t need braids to get my attention, sweet heart.”
She nodded in agreement, still amused. “No, you’re right. You noticed me for more practical reasons. Like math homework? Biology assignments? Tell Ethan that without me you wouldn’t have made it through high school.”
Gil looked up at Ethan, his face serious. “Without Cleo I wouldn’t have made it through high school. I wouldn’t have gone to school.”
Cleo’s brows snapped together. “Oh, stop.”
Gil covered one of her hands with his. “It’s true, Cleo. I was on a downhill slide. But you dragged me to the top of the hill with you every day.”
Cleo appeared unconvinced. “That’s nice of you to say, Gil, but—”
“It’s true,” he said implacably. “That’s why when Mom told me things had been hairy for you lately, I thought I better check in. Maybe this time you need me.”
Oh, no, buster. That was all that Ethan was going to take. No way was he just going to stand here while another man offered to be what his wife needed.
He stepped forward, that fire inside him heating up. “I’ll be taking care of Cleo.”
Gil’s brows rose. “Yeah?”
Ethan stared pointedly at the man’s hand, the hand that was still touching Cleo’s. “Yeah.”
“Stop being so silly,” Cleo said.
To him.
Ethan stared back at her. “What?”
“Stop being so silly,” she said again. “Why would you be rude to Gil?”
Ethan took a calming breath and explained to her slowly, rationally, “Because I’m your husband and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let one of your lovesick swains waltz into our house and claim he’s going to take care of you.”
Cleo’s forehead wrinkled. “What lovesick swains are you talking about?”
“Let’s see.” Ethan ticked them off on his fingers. “There was John and Jeremy and Stuart,” he said, naming all the men he’d met in White horn that couldn’t wait to get their hands on Cleo. “And now there’s Gil.”
“None of those men is the least lovesick for me.” She appealed to her brown-eyed “old friend.” “Right, Gil?” But she didn’t wait for him to agree with her. “Ethan, you know me. I’m the practical, sensible girl who’s friends with all the guys. None of them ever really wanted me.”
Ethan’s eyes widened as he listened to his adorable, practical, sensible, capable but featherheaded wife. Only when it came to men, of course, but a featherhead all the same. “Cleo—”
Gil cleared his throat. “I think I might be able to help out here.”
Ethan crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his gaze at the other man. “I’m a little suspicious of your help,” he said.
“Ethan!”
“He’s right, Cleo,” Gil said.
The featherhead scrunched her face up again. “About what?”
Both Ethan and Gil sighed.
Gil spoke first. “We all loved you, Cleo. Wanted you.” He shrugged. “All those men Ethan mentioned, and some others besides.”
She made another face. “I introduced at least half of those men Ethan named to their wives.”
“Whom they only fell in love with after getting over you. After finally accepting the fact that you weren’t going to give your heart to them.”
She was staring at Gil, speechless.
“Really, Cleo. We used to joke about having our own club. ‘Those Who Have Loved and Lost Cleo.’”
She shook her head. “No.”
“And there are some of us, including me, who haven’t ever gotten over—”
“Thank you, I believe she’s heard enough.” Ethan dragged Gil up from the couch by the elbow. As much as he was grateful to the guy for getting Cleo’s attention at last, he wasn’t feeling so kind as to let him try another round of “Take Me, I’m Yours.”
Ethan steered Gil to the door. “I owe you,” he muttered.
Gil dug his feet in once they reached the front door. “I mean what I was trying to say.” His brown eyes went hard. “I’ll be watching to see if you screw up.”
Ethan looked at his wife, still sitting stunned and beautiful on the couch. “Don’t hold your breath, friend. I love her more than you and anyone else in your little club. And she’s never going to forget it.”
The door closed behind Gil with a satisfying snap. Just to be on the safe side, Ethan turned the lock. Then he approached Cleo.
And found his feelings for her were rising in a big lump in his throat. He knelt on the floor in front of her. “Cleo,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Do you understand now?”
She laughed a little shakily. “I don’t know.”
He stroked back her hair with his hand, aware he was trembling, just as she had been in the hospital. “No man has ever wanted you because you’re practical or sensible or any of those things. They haven’t wanted to just be your friend. They’ve only settled for being your friend.”
A flush rose on her cheeks and he wanted to kiss them and her nose and her forehead and her lips and everywhere else he could reach.
“You wanted me because I’m practical and sensible. You said so,” she pointed out.
Ethan groaned. “I’m an ass, Cleo.” Maybe he didn’t deserve her. “I was trying to come up with some plausible explanation for why I crossed five states to marry myself a convenient wife.”
She lifted a hand toward him, but brought it back to her lap without touching him. “Is there an implausible explanation?”
He sucked in a breath. Maybe she wasn’t such a featherhead when it came to men. Because that was the biggest, most pointed question she could have asked.
The one he’d ducked and dodged for the three months they’d been apart and the two months they’d been married.
He stared straight into her amethyst eyes. “I fell in love with you, Cleo. Instantly, I think.”
When he confessed that to her, he’d imagined a dozen reactions, but not the one she had. Cleo recoiled from him and looked as if he’d slapped her. “What?” she whispered.
He swallowed. “Last January. At the bed-and-break fast. Do you remember how we met?”
“We bumped into each other,” she said, as if the words were dragged from her.
“I looked down at you, at this curvy, warm, beautiful, amethyst-eyed witch and I thought someone had dropped something on my head. I was dizzy.”
She didn’t respond.
“And not one day went by after that I didn’t hope to catch a glimpse of you, or talk to you. When I had to go back to Houston I had arguments with myself every day. I had to force my hand off the phone a dozen times.”
She bit her lip. “Why didn’t you want to love me?”
Oh, God. The hurt in her voice twisted Ethan’s heart. How could he have done this? How could he have caused pain to this woman?
And then he realized the most horrible truth of all. He could lose her. He could love her, and he could lose her.
He might find himself part of Gil’s club, after all.
“Cleo,” he said hastily, his brain spinning and whirling as it did at the conference table. What’s the best way to present his case? What does the adversary want to hear? What words would best persuade her?
His mind went blank.
And from somewhere else, the truth arose. “It’s easier not to love, Cleo. You can’t get hurt—with a fist or with words. I thought that was the best way to live. And, hell, I was a success in anyone’s eyes, including my own.”
He raked his hand through his hair. “And then when I felt that…thing for you, I thought I was wrong to pursue you. You were a woman with heart, obviously, and I had managed to squeeze mine to nothing. I thought I didn’t have the emotions to offer you.”
“And then came Jonah.”
He nodded. “And he desperately needed someone who had emotions, who had love. I instantly tho
ught of you. I wanted you, all the while still telling myself that it was for Jonah’s sake. All the while still thinking that what was beating inside me wouldn’t be enough for you.”
She reached out, and her fingertips touched his chest. He felt them through the thick material of his sweatshirt and he couldn’t read their meaning, or what was written on her face. “What changed?” she whispered.
“I didn’t think you or Jonah really needed me, Cleo,” he said, his voice hoarse with honesty. “But in the hospital, I was able to comfort you, and comfort him. Not just provide for you both, you understand. You needed me. And I was there.”
There was something in her eyes that was giving him hope, giving him strength. He caught her hand against his chest and flattened her palm over his heart. “It’s bigger because of you, Cleo.”
She threw herself at him.
He was unprepared, so they both crashed to the living room floor and his head hit the hardwood. The shooting pain didn’t stop him from sinking his fingers into her hair and angling her face for his kiss.
She threw herself into that, too, but when they both came up for air, her eyes were worried. “Did I hurt you?”
He shook his head. “I was afraid you might, but then you came into my arms.”
Her delectable lips pursed. “Your head, silly. Did you hurt your head?”
“I have no idea. I think you better take me to bed and check me out. Thoroughly.”
Her lips twitched. But then her face sobered. “You love me?”
“I do. I will. I’ll vow it all over again in front of a thousand people if you want me to. Particularly in front of that large fan club of yours. I want them to know some man has finally and forever leashed Cleo.”
She wrinkled her nose. “’Leashed’?”
He smiled. “You’re a menace to men, honey. It’s the least I could do.”
She pursed her lips again. He could tell the featherhead still didn’t quite understand how many hearts she’d broken. But he was damn glad his wasn’t one of them. A little doubt lingered in her eyes. “Are you sure you don’t mind that I’m not so practical, so…”
“Capable?” he supplied.
She nodded, and he swiftly exchanged places with her so she was on the bottom and he was on top. He insinuated his hips into the warm notch of her thighs. “Mmm,” he said, savoring the sensation. “I don’t mind at all. I have big plans to keep you busy with some very impractical, very sexy activities.”
She smiled dreamily up at him and linked her hands around his neck to pull him down for another kiss. “Is that so?”
He resisted, just long enough to get in the last word. “Oh, yeah. And I’m going to make sure you’re incapable of speech for long nights of our long, happy marriage.”
Ethan let himself be drawn down to her mouth. And then he took her to their bedroom where they made love.
When it was all over, he was the one made in capable of speech. But when she was able to whisper “I love you” and he only mouthed the words in return, he knew by her stunning smile that she understood.
Special thanks and acknowledgment to Christie Ridgway
for her contribution to the Montana Mavericks series.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-8874-8
THE MARRIAGE MAKER
Copyright © 2000 by Harlequin Books S.A.
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The Marriage Maker Page 17