Blissed (Misfit Brides #1) (35 page)

The earrings were obviously special.

Natalie stepped closer to Marilyn. She squatted a few feet away. “Have you looked here yet?”

The shine came back in Marilyn’s eye. She shook her head.

CJ joined them, and all three of them combed the ground, looking for the earring.

There were three more events tomorrow. Natalie’s gut tightened. He was on his own for the last two. If he had any chance of winning, he needed to do well in the sunflower field. She needed to not slow him down.

But maybe—just maybe—life was about more than the Games.

For all of them.

CJ
HAD BEEN RIGHT the first time he asked Natalie to be his partner. Would’ve preferred it hadn’t taken Kimmie needing stitches, but Natalie was with him now.

They’d finished the sunflower maze and they were sitting onstage in front of a packed stadium, listening to the roar of a crowd the likes of which he hadn’t heard since the last time the Cubs made the play-offs. Highlights of the maze race flashed on a giant screen behind them. Sunset was coming on, and in the soft light, with Kimmie’s T-shirt hanging too wide on her shoulders, Natalie glowed.

He’d been surprised when she stopped to help Marilyn. She was one hell of a woman, not only stopping to help her biggest enemy, but then doing the impossible in finding the diamond amidst all that straw. But after she’d pulled that earring out of the ground, she’d looked at him, told him to haul ass, and then she’d sassed him the rest of the way through the maze and all the way back to the stadium. He’d been certain she was enjoying herself. But now, she was near mute.

He got it. Being semi-alone in a freaking amazing sunflower maze was worlds away from sitting on a stage before over five thousand people, playing husband to a woman who drove him crazy—good crazy
and
bad crazy—while he was supposed to be here honoring Serena.

He squeezed Nat’s hand.

She jumped.

“Thanks,” he said. “Couldn’t do this without you.”

“You’re you. You could’ve done this with or without anyone. But thank you for asking me. Again.”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” an irritating female voice boomed throughout the stadium. The sound was so loud, CJ’s teeth rattled. “Welcome to the Golden Husband Games.”

The crowd roared. Natalie half-smiled at CJ, then turned her attention to the woman who had taken her mother’s place.

The crowd’s cheers grew. So did Natalie’s half-smile. Thinking about what her mother would’ve thought about the crowd, he’d bet. She looked around the stadium, at all the people, at the couples around them, then back at CJ. “Kimmie will enjoy this tomorrow,” she said.

He didn’t bother correcting her misconception. She’d fight him about it, and this was a talk best had in private.

Fine with him.

He didn’t want her soft and easy. He had just a few more days with her, and he wanted her for her. Getting an excuse to visit her tonight—all the better.

CJ smiled, and Natalie turned back to watch Elsie introduce the couples.

The Games had just begun.

N
ATALIE’S FEET ACHED, her head pounded, and when she caught herself about to snarl at Dad over a SpaghettiOs splatter on the counter she’d just wiped down, she grabbed the bottle of red wine Pepper had slipped her while she was trying to escape the post-opening-events festivities, and she took herself out onto the swing on the back porch.

She hadn’t bothered with a cup, and she didn’t know enough about red wine to know if she were guzzling a ten-dollar or a fifty-dollar bottle. She did, however, appreciate the warm glow the first two gulps had given her belly.

If only the glow would spread faster.

“Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to bed.” Dad’s loafers shuffled behind her. He touched her shoulder. “Real proud of you, hon.”

The warmth in her belly spread to her lungs. “You too, old man,” she said. “Fourth place is nothing to sneeze at.” Despite stopping to search for the earring, CJ had taken second tonight.

“I meant for all your hard work.” Dad ruffled her hair, then kissed it. “Marilyn’s earrings?” he added. “They were the last present her husband gave her before he died. Meant a lot to her.” He stepped back. “Don’t stay up late. Long day tomorrow.”

No kidding. She’d called Kimmie, who insisted she was fine. So Natalie would be glued to the public access channel tomorrow, watching CJ and Kimmie and Dad and Marilyn play Mom’s last Games.

She wasn’t strong enough to watch in person. “Night, Dad.”

He shuffled back to the door. Natalie dropped her head back and closed her eyes. He was right. She needed to get to bed too.

Her swing shifted beneath her as if a boulder had suddenly sat down on the opposite end. She snapped upright and gaped like an idiot at her Highland warrior Neanderthal.

“Your dad said you were out here,” CJ said before she could speak. He stretched out, his arm draping across the back of the swing, his fingers brushing the skin above her tank top. He nodded at the bottle. “Any chance you’re sharing that?”

She wordlessly handed it over.

He put the bottle to his lips—the same lips that had kissed her no fewer than three times at various points this evening—tipped it back, and took a long swallow.

Then he pulled back and gave a loud shudder. “That’s disgusting.”

She felt the pull in her cheeks, a helpless desire to smile growing despite the uneven fluttering of her pulse.

“Jeez, who’d you piss off?” He held the bottle for inspection in the low light. “Somebody calls this wine?”

Now her diaphragm was getting into it, pushing her to give in. To laugh. “It’s from your sister.”

“Eleven of ’em, and not a one has a bit of taste. You saw Ginger’s husband tonight, right? The guy leaves the toilet seat up. Can you imagine?”

She’d seen his whole family tonight. All of them, every one of his sisters, his three brothers-in-law, his seven nieces, his grandma, Father Basil again, his parents. His in-laws.

“And that’s why I need the alcohol,” she said, more to herself than to him.

He laughed, and she gave in and smiled back. Before CJ, she hadn’t ever been funny. It was surprisingly enjoyable.

“So, tomorrow,” CJ said. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

She eyed the bottle. One gulp couldn’t affect a person that fast. “Pick me up? Don’t you have to be at the reception at seven?”

He pushed the swing into motion. “In the morning.”

She choked on the question,
For what?

Because
for what
was suddenly obvious. She shook her head. She shook her head, and she couldn’t stop. “Kimmie’s fine. She’s back. You don’t need me anymore.” But she was also giving herself a mental beating.

Because she wanted him to want her just as badly as she wanted to not want him when she couldn’t have him. Distance was her best ally.

And he kept stripping her of it.

“I miss being your friend,” he said.

There was a loneliness in his voice, a whisper of a reminder that they could’ve been friends. Real friends. Real lovers. Real—no. No, they never could’ve been more. “Were we friends?”

“We were something.” His thumb brushed her neck. Need pulled her nerves tight, low in her belly. His voice turned husky. “Something good.”

“You’re leaving.” Not something she wanted to think about tonight, but it was her reality.

His thumb drifted higher, his fingers joining in the party at her hairline, and for one beautiful moment, she thought he might correct her.

Tell her he’d stay. Tell her she was worthy of him. Tell her he’d missed Noah too.

That he wanted to try.

He tilted her chin up, stared down at her as if he’d heard her thoughts, but needed to see her to know he’d heard right. As if he needed to hear her ask him to stay.

But she couldn’t do it.

If CJ wanted to stay, if he wanted to take a chance with her and Noah, he would say so.

And if he didn’t, he wasn’t the man she needed him to be.

Heartbreaking as it was, her reality was that simple.

He touched her cheek. “Get some rest,” he said. “Long day tomorrow. See you at eight.”

He pressed a hard kiss to her temple, and then he was gone.

Leaving her alone. As she was apparently supposed to be.

Chapter Eighteen

N
AT’S STOMACH was putting a different kind of knot in Knot Fest. As promised, CJ had arrived at 8:00 a.m. to pick her up. He must’ve sweet-talked someone at the T-shirt shop, because he’d brought new team shirts. Today’s were a flattering periwinkle printed with a new logo:
The Second Chance Misfits
.

If she hadn’t been in danger of falling for him before, the shirts would’ve done her in. They’d certainly made up for his leaving last night. And for not kissing her.

Every time she thought of kissing him, she thought of this afternoon’s Games, and her stomach knotted harder.

This morning’s event was about skill and strength.

Then came the events about love.

That knowledge may have kept Natalie up half the night.

She and CJ were at the edge of the end zone. The field wasn’t large enough to accommodate all twenty-eight couples at once, so the couples were going in three groups. They were in the first.

The high school marching band finished “Chapel of Love,” and the last of the couples took their place at the starting line.

It was go time.

Three couples down, Dad was smiling. Nat had heard both him and Marilyn laugh once or twice in the hospitality tent before the festivities officially kicked off this morning.

It was strange to see Marilyn acting
human
. Even after yesterday, Nat couldn’t shake her suspicions and distrust.

Old habits died hard.

Beside her, CJ bounced on his toes. “Ready?”

Natalie swallowed and nodded.

On the side of the field at the fifty-yard line, Elsie stepped onto the platform with today’s judges—a local news anchor, a Methodist minister from Willow Glen and a nationally syndicated radio talk show host who had recently moved to Bliss.

“Gentlemen,” Elsie said into her mic, her voice booming through the stadium, “welcome to the Hubstacle Course.”

The packed stands erupted in cheers and hollers. Midway up to the right, a portion of the crowd wearing periwinkle T-shirts waved white foam fingers and signs for the
Second Chance Misfits
.

“Before you is a series of challenges to test your skill as husbands,” Elsie said. “Judging will be not only on your time, but also on your style, and you’ll have the opportunity to earn extra points at the stations along the way, as detailed by the instruction sheets you’ll find there.”

Nat’s heart gave a sentimental pang. Mom should’ve been here.

She’d dreamed up the Hubstacle Course two years ago. One morning, she’d charged into the kitchen wearing a green striped bath towel, her short blonde-gray hair dripping onto her shoulders, and declared,
I’ve got it! The pinnacle strength challenge will be a Hubstacle Course. Points for time
and
style!
Then she’d scurried out of the room with a
“Be right back, have to write down a few things”
tossed back over her shoulder.

And now the Hubstacle Course was here. In two hours, it would be over. All of Mom’s ideas and dreams and hard work, all here, now, without her.

Natalie caught Dad’s eye. He smiled, gave a rueful shake of his head, and she knew he was remembering too.

CJ squeezed her hand. “Okay, Nat?”

She nodded. “Thank you,” she said softly. She was still afraid she’d do something to embarrass Dad or Mom’s memory or CJ, but more, she was so, so grateful to be included today.

CJ swept a gaze around the stadium. “You people are nuts.” His lips tipped up, his fingers fidgeted, and determination settled into his features.

He wanted to win.

Natalie smiled.
Whom
he wanted to win for didn’t matter. That he was here, fully committed, excited, was wonderful.

It reminded her of the CJ who had come to Bliss five years ago. The thought that he’d made some peace with his past the last couple of months made her happy for him.

“We’ll see you at the other end zone, gentlemen,” Elsie said. “On your marks!”

CJ grinned at Natalie. He waved up at his family, eliciting a call of “Go, Princess!”

“Which one was that?” Natalie asked.

“Rika.”

“Is that a spice?”

“Short for Paprika. Poppy’s twin.”

“Get set!” Elsie said.

More “Yeah, Princess!” cries erupted.

“Go!”

CJ grabbed Natalie’s hand and dragged her to the ten-yard line. He skidded to a stop at their designated table, grabbed the index card with this station’s instructions, then eyeballed their equipment. Coffeemaker, pitcher of water, and canister of Folgers.

“Black?” CJ said to Nat.

He knew how she took her coffee? “Usually. How—”

His grin cut her off. “Ninety-eight percent success rate with knowing what will make a woman happy. Remember?”

He made laughing so easy. “Such an ego.”

“You like it.”

She did. 

He slid open the basket on the coffeemaker. No filter.

Looked like one or two of the other tables were missing filters as well. CJ plowed ahead. He grabbed the Folgers, measured out two scoops, closed the basket, and then added the water to the machine and started it.

“I sincerely hope I don’t have to drink that,” Natalie said.

“I kinda hope you do.” He slid her a grin, and she laughed again.

“We should make out while it brews.” He settled his hands at her waist. His eyes gleamed with mischief, but there was a hint of uncertainty in them. As if it mattered to him whether or not she wanted to kiss him.

She rested her hands on his chest. “For the judges?”

“Sure. For them too.”

His shirt was warm, his muscles tight beneath his shirt. She could’ve kissed him. She could’ve kissed him so easily. “You want to gross out your sisters?” Nat said.

“You’re a pain in the ass.”