The Love List (12 page)

Carrie went upstairs, took off her jeans and
shoes and snuggled into bed next to Grey.
Note to my love list,
never leave lover alone with his ex-girlfriend, even for five
minutes.
He threw his arm around her in his sleep. She rolled
on her side and backed up against him, gave a sigh and fell
asleep.

Chapter Eight

It was almost seven o'clock in the evening on
Christmas Day when Carrie and Grey woke up. The room was dark and
Carrie was disoriented for a moment.

"Carrie?" The fuzziness of sleep thickened
his speech.

"Grey? Are you all right?" Carrie lifted her
head off the pillow.

"Of course. Sleepy, that's all."

He sat up and switched on the small lamp on
the nightstand next to his side of the bed. He had ripped the
gloves off his hands while he slept and the hat had fallen to the
floor. Carrie shielded her eyes from the glare with her hand. He
got out of bed, feeling a rush of cold through his clothes and
opened the door. The scent of ham, cauliflower and cheese casserole
wafted up from the kitchen and Carrie heard Grey's stomach rumble.
Hotter air floated up from the first floor and gradually warmed
their bedroom.

"I'm starved. Come on. Something smells
good." He reached for her hand.

Carrie left the bed, slipped on her jeans and
joined him, yawning as they descended the stairs.

"Another item for the love list..." she
began, stopping on the stairs.

"Oh?" Grey lifted his eyebrows as he faced
her.

"An important one." Carrie placed both hands
on his shoulders.

"They're all important."

"When your lover tells you she won't go down
to the lake, because you asked her not to, believe her. I wouldn't
violate your trust like that."

Grey paused and hung his head. "You're saying
if I had believed you I wouldn't have gone down there, wouldn't
have almost died?"

"'Bout sums it up." Carrie stepped closer and
slipped her arms around his waist.

"Damn…correct on that one, too."

"List is growing fast."

"Question is, can I remember them all?"

"Betting you can."

Grey smiled at her vote of confidence.
"Afraid to think how long it's going to be by the time we get
married." His fingers played with the ends of her hair.

"You've got a few more months…think you can
make it?"

"I will…or die trying."

"Not funny!"

Grey shot a grin at her. "Thought it was." He
leaned over and gave her a slow kiss.

****

The house was quiet. When they reached the
first floor they hesitated at the archway into the kitchen. Grey
peeked his head in and noticed the kitchen table was set for five.
Obviously Fran expected them for dinner. John and Colin sat in
their usual seats drinking beer from bottles while Fran bent over
the stove. A big casserole dish rested on the oven rack.

"John, could you help with this, please?"

Her husband went to the stove, donned two
heavy-duty oven mitts, lifted the heavy dish out of the oven and
placed it on the trivet on the table. Fran retrieved serving spoons
from a drawer. Her face broke into a big smile when she looked up
and noticed Grey and Carrie.

"Where is everybody?" Grey ran a hand through
his hair.

"Jenna and Bill, Barbara and Earl all went
home."

Grey scratched his stubbly face and smiled.
Fran wiped her hands on her apron and crossed the room to give her
son a hug.

"I'm so glad you're okay. You are okay,
aren't you?" She looked up at him, her brow furrowed.

"Fine, Mom." He gave his mother an
affectionate squeeze before releasing her.

"Please visit the doctor this week to make
sure…"

"I'll make sure he does, Fran," Carrie put in
when she saw Grey raise a hand in protest.

"Missed the football game," Colin
remarked.

"Crap! I slept through football?"

Colin nodded.

"Who won?"

"Jason and I tied Gavin's team. Cause you
weren't there!"

"Love how it's my fault even when I don't
play."

"Here we go," John put in, "Let's eat."

Grey held out a chair for Carrie then sat
down next to her. He leaned over to whisper in her ear. Her eyes
widened a little, then an impish smile crossed her lips. She nodded
to Grey before taking the bowl filled with the delectable casserole
Fran handed her and setting it down on the table.

"Grey, whispering at the table is rude."

"I'm thirty-four, Mom. Needed Carrie's okay
on something. I'm going to make it public."

"Still breaking the rules." Colin grinned at
his brother.

"School is out until the day after New
Year's, right?" Grey turned to look at Colin after setting down a
bowl filled with the savory casserole. He toyed with the food with
his spoon while it cooled, keeping eye contact.

Colin nodded, taking a small spoonful of food
to his mouth.

"Carrie and I were wondering if you'd come
back to New York with us tomorrow. The backseat in the Jag isn't
great, but it can hold your sorry as…uh…butt. Why don't you come
and stay with us through New Year's. Carrie has the guest room
almost ready, right, hon?"

"The guest room is in better shape than our
room. Come, Colin. Come back with us."

"Through the New Year?"

"Carrie's aunt Delia is throwing some fancy
party on New Year's Eve. Be lotsa hot chicks there…"

"Grey…" John put in raising his hand.

"Sorry, Dad. Anyway, wadda ya say?"

"Come, Colin. We'll have fun." Carrie scooped
up another spoonful of the cheesy concoction.

Colin's gaze bounced from Grey to Carrie and
back. A smile crept over his face.

"Why not? Beats anything happening here."

"Great!" We'll leave right after breakfast
tomorrow," Grey said, trying to speak with a mouthful of food.

****

Colin Andrews' story continues in the next
novella,
The Dating List.

Haven't read "The Marriage List" yet? Here's
a peek

The Marriage List

Chapter One

Envy burned in Grey's chest as he walked
through the door at Blondie's, the sports bar on West
79
^th
Street. His three best buddies had it all, great
jobs and great wives, while at 30 years old, Grey was still working
night and day, saving every penny and sleeping alone…most nights.
Tonight he faced the challenge of listening to them brag without
letting the smile slip off his face.

The bar was beginning to get noisy with
baseball games on three TVs and rowdy laughter. Grey wondered when
it'd be his turn for happiness. He got a table and downed a drink
before his friends arrived, brushing a careless hand through his
sandy hair.

His hazel eyes swept the room for eligible
women. There were a couple at the bar, talking to each other,
looking pretty hot. Later, he'd try to drum up some action. One
looked over at him, her gaze moving over his body slowly and her
broadening smile indicated she approved of what she saw. Her blonde
hair and ample chest made it hard for him to turn his gaze back to
the door, where Will was entering, followed by Spence.

Grey raised his hand in greeting to his
buddies as they made their way to his table. This was their
quarterly get-together for a couple of beers and dinner. Though
they were eight years out of college, when they were together it
was like old times hanging at the fraternity. Practically
inseparable in college, they called themselves the "Four Horsemen".
When Bobby arrived, they motioned to the waitress for another
pitcher of beer.

After placing their food orders, the Horsemen
settled back in their chairs. Grey opened the conversation.

"So how's married life treating you
guys?"

"Thinking about tying the knot, Grey?" Bobby
asked.

"That would be news," Will put in, before
taking a swig of beer.

"Yeah, yeah, 'Grey Andrews, tired of screwing
different women every night sets the date'" Spence said, making
quotation marks in the air with his hands.

"I'll drink to that," Will said, raising his
mug in a mock toast.

"You'll drink to anything!" Bobby piped
up.

"So who is she?" Spence asked, narrowing his
eyes and gazing at Grey.

"No one. There's no one," Grey said, his
shirt collar feeling suddenly tight. He reached up and unbuttoned
his shirt then took a deep breath.

"Sure, sure. You don't have to tell us, but
we'll find out eventually," Will said.

"Come on, guys, I'm serious," Grey
continued.

"So you've stopped working sixty hour weeks
and sleeping with whatever you could pick up at a bar?" Bobby
asked.

"Maybe."

"Gonna kick out your roommate and squeeze a
wife into that cramped place you live?" Will asked.

"I'm looking."

"So the nest egg is fat enough now, got
enough cash and you're ready for the next step? Grey, you plan like
a girl," Spence chuckled and the other two laughed with him.

"So marriage isn't so great for you guys,
huh? Is that what I'm hearing?" Grey said, smirking.

Grey, the only unmarried one, wanted to hear
how married life was treating his friends. Although he wasn't in
love or even dating one woman exclusively, he was thinking about
taking the plunge himself…time to start looking for Ms. Right.
Spence was right, Grey was a planner.

Will took a gulp of his beer before he turned
to Grey.

"Your crazy job giving you time off to get
married?"

Grey had spent the past eight years working
sixty hour weeks to achieve success; his job at an investment firm
kept him busy watching his clients' money and his own. He lived on
practically nothing, took girls on inexpensive dates, shared an
apartment, all to save up for freedom and marriage, the way he
wanted it.

"Still the master of the cheap date, Grey?"
Spence asked him, putting down his empty beer glass.

So what if he was inventive enough to master
the art of low-cost dating: picnics in Central Park, free concerts,
trips to the Bronx Zoo on free entry days, long walks. The women he
escorted didn't mind that dates with him were unusual instead of
costly. Grey wooed his women on as few dollars as possible, saving
every cent and it was paying off as he watched his money grow,
multiplying at a rapid rate.

"I'm still careful with my money, Spence.
How's your marriage, by the way?" Grey asked, lounging back in his
chair.

Grey was on a mission, gathering data,
information, formulating his plan for wedded bliss. After two
pitchers, tongues started to loosen up.

"My wife is a pain in the ass with her
decorator and her cook. The living room is white, can't wear shoes
there. Can't put my feet up on the coffee table. And food! Tiny
portions, salads. Give me a good meatloaf any day, I eat like a
rabbit," Will complained, refilling his glass.

The table was silent for a moment.

"Bobby, how's that sexy lady you married?"
Spence asked, his eyes glittering with either desire or envy, Grey
couldn't tell which.

"Watch it, Spence. Just because she has big
boobs…"

"Man, she must be hot," Spence continued.

"I said watch it!" Bobby got halfway out of
his chair before Grey put a hand on his arm to stop him.

"What's the matter, Spence, not getting any?"
Bobby teased.

"Susan's a great talker. She loves to talk.
Very smart. Intellectual, in and out of bed. But the action I want
in bed doesn't involve talking," Spence said, gazing down at his
beer.

"I wish Tiffany would talk a little more. She
says lawyer stuff is boring. I tell her 'yeah that lawyer stuff is
what pays for your wardrobe, honey' but she doesn't get it," Bobby
said, signaling the waitress for another pitcher.

Grey didn't hear anything like what he'd
expected. He had steeled himself to hear enough bragging to make a
strong stomach retch, but it never materialized. Instead his
friends continued to complain about their wives, what their
seemingly perfect wives lacked and what the Horsemen were missing.
His frustrated pals killed his taste for the women at the bar and
the discovery of their dissatisfaction caused Grey to wonder if
married life was a good idea for him after all.

The Marriage List is available where ebooks
are sold.