by Robyn Carr
When she tried on the dress, it was a bit too large and in a strapless, that wasn’t a good thing—one wrong move and it would be around her ankles. She had to tighten it up with safety pins. And of course she hadn’t brought a strapless bra to the mountains; she sagged a little bit, but he would just have to live with that. After all, he’d seen her naked and knew the thirty-six-year-old girls were starting to drop a bit.
She fussed over her hair, pinning it up and curling little dangling ends with her curling iron. By God, if she didn’t look exactly like a thirty-six-year-old senior in high school! At last there was a knock at the door.
She opened it with a smile and there he stood—wearing a tux and holding a plastic box of flowers! “Oh my God, I guessed right!” she said with a laugh. “We’re playing prom!”
He stepped inside and his free hand slipped around her waist to pull her close. He whispered against her lips, “When I’m done with you, you won’t feel like there’s anything you missed.”
She pulled back just slightly. “Are you planning to be done with me soon?”
He shook his head. “It will be a very, very long time, honey. Very.” Then he handed her a wrist corsage.
She opened it and sighed—an orchid. When she was in high school, the boys that put out for an orchid were really trying. She put it on her wrist and said, “This is fun, but I’m not sure I’m willing to be seen in public like this. Everyone will think we’re dressed for a costume party.”
“Well, if I remember right, first you go to dinner, then you go to the dance. Right?”
“I guess,” she said, nodding.
He reached inside his jacket and pulled out four CDs—all late ’80s and early ’90s. Wilson Phillips, Billy Joel, Michael Bolton, the “new” Mariah Carey. “I picked only the slow ones. We have reservations at Jack’s. We’ll come back here to dance.”
“Ohhh, Aiden. You are the sweetest man…”
“And we’re going to do things we’d have gotten detention for. While we dance, I’m going to be all over you—kissing your neck, touching your breasts, begging…”
“You probably won’t have to beg….”
His lips were on her neck. “Of course, we have to do it in the backseat of the car….”
“I might draw the line there,” she told him.
“I bet I can talk you into it,” he said with a laugh. “Let’s go.” And he put out his arm to escort her.
Erin hadn’t been in Jack’s bar often and therefore wasn’t immediately aware that it was quite different on this Tuesday night. For one thing, it was lit by candlelight. Right by the window was a table set for two with fine china and a linen tablecloth. It was only seven-thirty, but the restaurant was empty. Jack stood in his usual place behind the bar, but he was wearing a white shirt. It took her a while to realize that this was a very special setup. In fact, Aiden was holding her chair out for her before it occurred to her, “Did you rent out the whole bar?”
“More or less,” he said. “Jack said they weren’t likely to be real busy and he gave me a deal.”
Then Jack was beside their table, a clean dish towel draped over one arm. “If you kids have some ID, I can serve you a drink. But…”
Aiden grinned up at Jack. “Want to give us a break, pal?”
He chuckled and asked, “Bottle of wine?”
“Raymond Reserve Merlot 2004,” Aiden said.
“My pleasure,” Jack said.
Erin leaned toward Aiden and whispered, “What is that?”
“The best you’ll ever taste,” he whispered back. “I bought a bottle and gave it to Jack earlier. Prizewinner.”
“He doesn’t carry it?”
“I doubt it—not much call for it around here. You’ll love it.”
Jack proved he wasn’t a completely ignorant small-town barkeep. He brought the bottle to them, opened it and presented Aiden with the cork. Then he poured a small amount in the glass and passed it to Aiden to swirl, sniff, sip and accept. He poured for both of them and left the bottle. “I’ll bring your soup and salads in a minute,” Jack said. “Enjoy the wine.”
“Try it,” Aiden urged. Erin took a sip and let her eyes gently close. She smiled and nodded. Aiden reached across the table for her hand. “I know it won’t be like it should have been for you, Erin. But we can have fun with it.”
She gave his hand a squeeze. “When I was sixteen, I picked out a prom dress. I was determined I was going, but I was delusional—I didn’t have a prayer of being asked. I didn’t date, didn’t even have a guy who walked me to classes, and on prom night my dad caught me crying about it. The next year on prom night he got a sitter and took me out to dinner. Dinner with my dad, that was what I did on prom night. This is so much better.”
“There’s only going to be one similarity between your prom-night dinner with your dad and tonight with me,” he said.
“Oh? And what’s that?”
“You’ll be in bed early.” Then he winked.
Jack brought them small bowls of clam chowder. Next came the salads and he asked how they’d like their filets cooked. Not long after that, peppercorn filets with a brown sauce, twice-baked potatoes and mixed vegetables, followed by the best cheesecake she’d ever tasted.
“I know you caught me sniveling about missing the prom,” Erin said. “But I don’t think I could stand it if you felt sorry for me. I’m not a Cinderella story. I had a lot of responsibility, but I was a happy kid. I was kind of a nerd, but—”
“You’re not a nerd anymore,” he scoffed. “You’re so sexy and put together, you put models to shame.”
“Fashion came much later, when I started interning at the law firm. I noticed that the most successful women attorneys looked like they should be successful. I’ve always been good at figuring things out. Things like that, anyway.”
“I never felt sorry for you for a second, Erin. I don’t know when I’ve met a woman I admire more.”
After a moment of quiet, she said softly, “I don’t think anyone has ever tried so hard to make me happy.”
“Is that so? Well, I’m just getting started.”
“You know what? I never liked surprises before I met you.”
“I know,” he said. “You like control. Finish your dinner, Erin. We have dancing to do.”
“One question,” she said. “When you found this dress, did you realize it was kind of…I don’t know…”
“Used?”
“Um, that. And really not like me at all?”
“I did,” he said. “They don’t have prom dresses hanging around dress shops in July. But it was the color of your eyes and I thought it was the kind of dress a person would wear to a prom. When you saw me in this tux, did you realize it’s probably the first and last time you will?”
“Not a tux man?”
“Honey, when I got out of that navy uniform, I felt nerves in my body relax that I didn’t even know I had.”
“That’s a shame, because you clean up real nice.” Then she grinned.
“Let’s get going,” he said, his eyes growing dark and impatient.
Once back at the cabin, Aiden put on the music, took her in his arms and danced her around the cabin a bit. His lips were on her neck, he held her close, and he whispered, “I’m sorry, baby. This isn’t going to last long. I want to get you out of this dress.”
“I’m really not that crazy about dancing, anyway,” she said. “And I think the dress will probably look better on the floor than on me.”
“Oh, I like your style.” He lifted her in his arms and headed for her bedroom. Before he crossed the threshold, he stopped. “I have to tell you something. I probably haven’t known you long enough for this, but I don’t care. I’ve been looking for a long time, Erin. Of all the Riordan men, I was the only one who actually wanted to be married. They were all running from women, avoiding commitment, and I was looking for the right one. The one who would be as good for me as I could be for her—the one who would last. The one who wanted the
same things I wanted. Someone I could respect and grow with.”
“Hmm. You don’t very often hear that kind of admission on prom night.”
“Erin, I’m all done looking. I’m in love with you.” And then his mouth came down hard on hers.
Given the fact that Aiden was trained to wake to the sound of a phone, any phone, he didn’t worry about checking in with Luke or anyone else. He slept the sleep of the purely satisfied next to Erin, her soft, naked body flush against his. When he did roll over and wake, he noticed the bedside clock said 10:00 a.m. and he couldn’t help but smile. He couldn’t remember a time he’d slept that late, unless he’d been up all night in the delivery room or surgery. There was a pile of green chiffon on the floor next to the black and white of a discarded tux. He looked back at Erin and found she’d turned her head and her eyes were open.
She smiled at him. “How did that compare to your last prom?”
“I didn’t get laid at my last prom.”
“Not even in the backseat of your dad’s car?”
“Not even.”
“I’m really glad I was able to talk you out of that,” she said. “Do we have to get up?”
“I’m sorry to say, we do. At least I do. I have to return the tux. Can I make you some breakfast?”
“Absolutely. Whatever you can find out there. I actually bought some real high-cholesterol man-food because Ian was coming for the weekend. There might be some eggs and sausage left.”
“I’ll see what I can find,” he said.
“And I’ll get a shower.”
He liked this, waking up with her. He pulled on his boxers and started creating in the kitchen. By the time Erin came out in her terry robe, toweling her hair dry, he had coffee and toast ready, the eggs almost done. He kissed her seven or twenty more times between her first sip of coffee and the point at which he put her breakfast in front of her.
“I’m going to go home, change, get rid of the tux, check on the family and I’ll bring dinner back. Informal dinner tonight,” he said with a smile. “You don’t have to wear your prom dress. How does that sound?”
“Perfect.”
They cleaned up the breakfast dishes together and he kissed her ten or fifteen times before he could get out the door. Except for Luke’s baby coming, he was going to spend every spare second with Erin. She had about six more weeks in her cabin until Marcie delivered, and during that time they could talk about their futures, their careers. He would unleash the headhunter and get serious about finding work. In lieu of a practice that wanted him, he could always find hospital work in or near Chico.
Had he rushed her? he wondered. He’d ask. It would be perfectly understandable if she wanted a little more time to get to know him. In fact, though he’d confessed that he’d always been looking for a woman who could be the one, she hadn’t exactly said the same thing.
When he pulled into Luke’s compound, he knew immediately that something was different. Too many cars, for one thing. Too many people on Luke’s porch, for another. He parked in front of his cabin and, wearing his tux shirt and pants, shirtsleeves rolled up, collar open, jacket slung over one shoulder, he walked toward Luke’s house. Had he missed something by way of family plans? he wondered. In his concentration on Erin’s prom night, had he forgotten some important gathering or event? His mother and George were there, Franci and Sean, too, and if he hadn’t seen a very pregnant Shelby he would wonder if it was time. As everyone turned to watch his approach, he could see they were not wearing their happy faces.
Then he saw her. Annalee. She had been behind Luke, leaning against the porch railing. She stood straight and came around Luke. She was wearing that totally phony, contrived, I’m-so-young-and-vulnerable expression. She wore a black snug-fitting but classy sleeveless dress and black sandals—all so conservative on her tiny, completely perfect body, her white-blond hair pulled back in a clip, her huge, luminous blue eyes trained on him. Did any of them—his family—buy this shit? This wasn’t real! He remembered that same little-girl look—she’d turned it on the hospital commander. Poor little Annalee. She could turn that whole image into a hot little dish in less than five seconds. Or a screaming, clawing banshee.
She walked toward the porch steps as he walked toward her.
“Aiden,” she said in a soft, breathy voice.
“If you’re not an apparition, I’m going to have to kill myself.”
“You wouldn’t answer my calls, messages or e-mails,” she said. Oh, and there it came, the tears. By God, the woman should really act! She could cry on demand!
“I did answer. I said, we’ve been divorced for eight years—we don’t have any business. Stop with the bloody tears, goddamn it! You flooded my in-box with hundreds of hostile e-mails! I’m afraid to turn the computer on—you probably crashed it!”
“Aiden, please,” she said sweetly, pathetically. “There was nothing hostile—I was begging you to talk to me. I just meant to send a couple and only because I so need to talk to you.”
“No! We’re divorced! You have no business here!”
“But we’re not! That’s why I’ve been trying to reach you! The divorce—I don’t know how it happened, but it didn’t go through! We’re still married!”
His mouth fell open and he felt the knife twist in his gut. She could still do it to him, totally surprise him. Totally scare him to death. He checked eyes with Sean and Luke and he saw that, thank God, they weren’t buying her crap. Aiden briefly wondered, Does everyone get one person in the universe who can throw them completely off balance like this?
“That’s ridiculous,” he said.
“No, it’s true. That lawyer we used? He’s gone—pfffttt. Gone. Not a member of the California bar, never filed our divorce paperwork. I checked—it should be a matter of public record, but the only thing on record is our marriage.”
The sudden suicidal urge he felt was real. He couldn’t be married to this…this…“Then fine, I’ll get a lawyer and make sure it’s done right this time.”
“But wait,” she said, stepping toward him. “Can we at least talk about it?”
“No, Annalee, there’s nothing to talk about. And you didn’t have to come here for this. You could have told Jeff to tell me, or since you found my e-mail address you could have e-mailed me about the failure of the divorce. But you’re here. There can only be one reason for you to be here. It’s not about the problem with the divorce. You want something. Why don’t you cut to the chase—what do you want now?”
“A chance,” she said in a tiny voice. “Just a chance.”
Again Aiden was stunned. Then he threw back his head and laughed. “A chance?”
“I’d like to try to work through this. I was only twenty-one years old and—”
“Did you bring back the ten grand you demanded from me to sign the original papers?” he asked. Then he stole a look at his mother out of the corner of his eye; oh, boy. She was not happy. He had no way of knowing who she was least happy with.
“Aiden, I was a kid, I was in trouble, I did a stupid thing and I’ve regretted it every day since. When I learned that the divorce hadn’t gone through, that we’re still married, I thought it was kind of a message. A gift from God. A chance for us to—”
He plunged his hands into his pockets and scowled at her, backing away. “Don’t throw God’s name around here, Annalee. You conned me. You used me, set me up, tricked me, almost had me court-martialed, almost cost me my residency, my career, and once I wrote you a check, you ran for your life. I don’t even want to know what went wrong in your ever-complex scheming to bring you around here, but—”
“Aiden,” Maureen said sharply. “Son.”
“Mom, you shouldn’t be hearing this. This isn’t for you to hear. This was a horrible catastrophe and I’m not proud of it, but I swear to you, I was the victim. I was the—” And then he stopped. Sure, he was the victim in his mind, but he’d been a twenty-eight-year-old man, a doctor. He should have been so much smarter. He ha
d thrown caution to the wind, went wild with this little tart and got caught breaking military rules. Stupid rules, he thought—you should be able to date whomever you liked, regardless of rank or commission—but that was not the case, so he was caught.
He couldn’t prove she’d set him up.
“I was twenty-one,” she repeated. “I thought I loved you. We made some mistakes but I think we deserve—”
“No!” he said. “We are done! I’ll get that divorce taken care of! You can leave!”
“Aiden,” Maureen said again. “Sit down with the woman. You don’t have to talk to her alone. One of your brothers or George can sit in. But, Aiden, you absolutely must—”
A very loud and long groan came out of Shelby. She bent over her stomach, holding it, groaning and then breathing deeply. Luke was immediately on one knee beside her, rubbing a hand along her back. It was quite a while before Shelby lifted her head, her eyes clouded with tears. “Sorry. As much as I wanted labor, I hate to leave before I find out how this comes out. But—I have to go to the hospital.”
“Okay, baby,” Luke said, helping her stand. “How long have you been having them?”
“Since what’s-her-name got here. Call Mel to meet us there and grab my little duffel, will you?”
Luke was off to do her bidding. “Sean, we need you to keep tabs on Art. Aiden, if you can’t come, we understand.”
“I’m coming. Of course I’m coming. Annalee—I need you out of here. I’ll take your phone number. I’ll call you. I’ll get this sorted out, but you are out of here. No way you stay on my family’s property while I’m not here.”
Annalee dropped her gaze and shuffled down the porch steps like a pitiful, rejected little girl, and Aiden took in his mother’s pained expression. He noticed that George put an arm around Maureen’s shoulders and gave comfort.
Annalee walked to her car, opened the passenger door and took out a small, elegant clutch. She opened it, pulled out a business card and took it to Aiden. He studied it for a second. Annalee Riordan—Fashion Consultant. There was a cell number.