Created In Fire (Art of Love Series) (35 page)

“Sure. Fine. Always. What if Larson is serious about the divorce?” John asked, pressing for the real thing he’d rather have, which was to know how Carrie felt about Michael.

Carrie snorted. “Michael is not serious about the divorce, John. He’s way too possessive to let go this easily. He would be afraid of me cashing his check and spending every last dime of it on yogurt bars and strange men.”

John laughed. He had no idea what she was talking about, but the woman was gorgeous when she was fired up.

“I’m not crazy about yogurt, but I can be strange. I can be as strange as you want. After Friday, I won’t be your boss anymore. We can have a whole different relationship,” John said, grinning.

“John, stop flirting so hard. I’m a married woman,” Carrie said firmly, her gaze on her wedding band as she slid all the papers back into the envelope. “I’m married to Michael and plan to stay that way. In my case, the third time really is charmed.”

Hearing the determination in Carrie’s voice, John sighed in resignation. “I hate it that you’re leaving me so soon. I’m going to miss you around here.”

“No, you’re not. You’re going to see me at my gallery every time you do an art show,” Carrie said, smiling and going back to her work. She had a lot to get done before Friday.

John rolled his eyes and headed out of her office.

Chapter 24

After an exhausting day packing up at work, Carrie pulled up at Michael’s house at seven Friday evening and sighed. The only people missing from the crowd were her parents, but she’d gone to see them already this week.

They had been praying for her every day. She hadn’t told them about what happened in college, but she had told them the truth about the baby she lost—that she hadn’t wanted it, not the way you were supposed to want a child. Surprisingly, they had both just kissed her and said that things had a way of working out as they were meant to.

She hoped they were right about her future. And she hoped Dr. Whitmore had been right about the rest.

Looking at her blonde reflection in the car’s rear view mirror, she shook her head. Michael’s family was so close there was no getting around dealing with them. She just hoped they wouldn’t be offended when she asked them to leave.

Carrying the overnight case with her basic clothing and toiletries in it, she used her key and let herself inside. She heard everyone talking in the living room, and there was a ball game playing.

Pausing in the kitchen doorway, she saw Michael out on the patio, face mask in place with his welding tools shooting sparks off metal. He was working on a new piece it seemed. She would hate interrupting him later, but still planned to do it. At least he wouldn’t hear her giving his family the boot in the meantime, she thought.

Carrie tossed her overnight bag on the rumpled and unmade bed and headed to the living room, stopping just inside as all eyes came to rest on her.

“Hi,” she said staring down their shocked gazes. “My name is Carrie Larson, and I’m a blonde. I plan to be a blonde for the rest of my life, so anyone who tells a blonde joke around me risks losing a kneecap.”

Shane rose from where he was sitting beside Brooke and walked to look down at her.

“I like it. You look like my sister now,” Shane said.

“Except your hair is longer. You need a trim,” Carrie said, giving free rein to her smirk. “Find your mystery woman yet, bro?”

“No—not yet,” Shane said.

“When I get my own love life straightened out, I promise I’ll help you fix yours,” Carrie told him. “I’m good at fixing things when I’m not retching and bawling all the time.”

Shane put his arms around her and kissed her on both cheeks.

“You are such a big teddy bear,” Carrie said. “Stop being so nice. I’m still doing the crying thing.”

“I’m just glad you came back,” Shane said. “My brother will be too. His freezer is full of yogurt bars about to expire. We came to do an intervention tonight, but he’s refusing to share them. He’s hiding out on the patio ignoring us and pretending to work.”

“Don’t worry. I promise I won’t let Michael waste the yogurt bars,” Carrie said, sniffing hard. “Damn. Don’t make me cry. Will you all leave?”

“Well, it is your house,” Shane said reasonably. “If you want to throw us out, go ahead.”

“Yes. Go,” Carrie said as she nodded, afraid to say more. Michael’s parents filed out, stopping to kiss her cheek and hug her along the way.

“If those yogurt bars are about to expire, Will and I could take a box home with us,” Jessica offered, making Will blush and swear at her.

“Well, I hate to waste anything too. Luke and I will take a box,” Ellen said, elbowing Jessica, who laughed.

Luke grabbed Ellen’s hand and yanked her out the door. “Come on. I’m a damn lawyer. We can afford to buy our own. What flavor do you like?”

Will and Jessica walked out the door behind them laughing.

Shane motioned to Brooke. “Come on, Red. I’ll give you ride to your mother’s house so you don’t have to walk home.”

“No—do I look that stupid?” Brooke asked. “Mom and Will do not need me there for an hour or two. Either take me to dinner or drop me off at my car.”

“Dinner it is,” Shane said.

Brooke hugged Carrie. “When you get done fixing Shane’s love life, will you work on mine after that?”

Carrie laughed. “Sure. I’m unemployed right now. I’ll have plenty of time while I look for a place to open a gallery.”

Brooke tapped her cheek and headed out the door with Shane.

Carrie sighed as blessed silence descended. Then she headed to the bedroom to retrieve her divorce papers.

*** *** ***

Michael heard the patio door slide over the welding noise, but he still didn’t turn around or even flip up his mask. His voice was muffled, but the anger in it was still evident, and he hoped his brother was smart enough to take the hint before becoming his punching bag.

“If you tease me about those yogurt bars one more time, I’m definitely going to kick your ass,” Michael said.

“Why would I tease you over them? If I want one, I’ll get one. I live here too, you know,” Carrie said back.

The masked man swung around at her voice and she backed away in mock fear.

“Damn it—fine, Michael. I won’t eat any until you say so. You are such a control freak,” Carrie said, yelling to keep from laughing at his shock.

Michael set the tools down and peeled off his mask.

“Carrie—you came back,” he said, closing his eyes. “I thought you were Shane.”

Carries sighed dramatically. “Yeah, I think I’m going to get that a lot now since I’ve gone back to my natural hair color.”

“You dyed your hair,” Michael said, just noticing. “You’re a blonde. You’re—you’re an amazing blonde. I can definitely see now why I would have gone for you in college.”

“Do you remember me?” Carrie asked, searching his gaze on her for any sign of memory returning.

“No—I’m sorry,” Michael said, looking and stepping away from her. “That’s always going to be a problem, isn’t it?”

“Would you rather I dye it back brown?” Carrie asked.

Michael shook his head. “No. I’d rather you be yourself and let me be with that person, even if she will always hate me a little bit. I think over time I’ll be able to love her enough to balance out the bad memories with many, many more good ones.”

Carrie nodded. “Okay—you got a deal.”

“Deal?” Michael asked, his forehead wrinkling. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I don’t know if I’ll ever get over the past completely. I haven’t forgiven you or me, Michael. You saw what it was like to lose a baby naturally. To voluntarily choose to abort one, it’s a damn hard thing to do, but I did it anyway. No one realizes the regret they will feel until they’ve done it. But I also have to say I would do the same thing again with the same circumstances. You didn’t know me. I didn’t really know you. Strangers having sex shouldn’t end in creating children nobody wants,” Carrie said. “I’ve felt like a bad person because of that decision for years. Not wanting our second child either only made the first time worse.”

“I didn’t just marry you because of the baby. When I saw you three years ago, I wanted you instantly,” Michael said, coming back to stand close to her. “Not only wanted, but I had this sense of you being meant for me. I wish with all my heart that had been the first time we’d met.”

Carrie lifted a hand to his face and sighed when Michael closed his eyes and leaned into her palm.
This is love
, she thought. The fighting and struggles. Working things out. Trying to offer comfort instead of more harm to someone.

“Well, I don’t wish our past away, not even the bad parts,” Carrie said, shocking Michael enough to have his eyes flying open. “To change all that is to change those weeks we lived together and you took care of me. I genuinely started to love you then, and I learned to like you.”

Michael sniffed tears and Carrie caught them with her thumbs.

“To change the past is to change the moment where I said to hell with it all and decided I wanted the future with you more than the emotional armor I had built to protect myself from being hurt. As hard as it is, I accept the children we made and lost. I accept my previous husbands and your women as just what happened when we were living life the best way we knew how. I accept whatever it took for me to get to this point where I’m able to say with my whole complete self that I really do want to be your wife.”

“Oh God, are you sure you feel that way?” Michael asked, tears of relief choking him. “I don’t think I can let you go after what you just said, but still—I’ll give you one last chance to run. Then I’m going to chain you to the bed for the rest of your life.”

Carrie put her arms around him and hugged tightly.

“The most permanent chain between people is family. Are we going to have a family together?” Michael said, letting his arms come slowly around her. He wanted to memorize this moment of having Carrie’s love, all of her love, at last.”

Carrie kissed him then. She stood on her toes and kissed every spot on Michael’s face she could reach. “The next child we create in the fire between us will be a child whose parents are going to love it so much that it will be spoiled rotten before it’s even out of the womb. I just need to wait a while before we can talk about it.”

“We can wait until you’re ready—really ready,” Michael said, bending his head to her neck. “Speaking of family, I guess you saw my entire family is here again.”

“No, they’re gone. I kicked them out,” Carrie said leaning back in his arms.

“You kicked my family out? What did you say to them?” Michael asked, smiling.

“Go. Leave,” Carrie said, smiling when she felt Michael laughing against her stomach.

“Bet that went over well. Are they mad?” Michael asked.

“You know, you’re more of a weenie about your family than you are about most things in your life,” Carrie teased.

“Probably,” Michael said, rolling his eyes. “I love my family. They’re certifiably crazy, but I’m just as bad.”

“They weren’t mad because they aren’t stupid. They all kissed and hugged me before they left,” Carrie said. “My family isn’t being stupid anymore either. Well—except Kevin. I’m not sure there’s any hope for him.”

“Can I kick his ass next time I see him?” Michael asked.

Carrie laughed at the thought. “I’m going to have to talk to Dr. Whitmore about why the thought of you beating up Kevin thrills me so much. I want us both out of the dragon slaying business. But speaking of dragons—I need some fire.”

Michael looked at her oddly. “Okay. I’m trying real hard here not to ask if you’re crazy because I know that would be in poor taste since you’re in therapy.”

Carrie rolled her eyes and pushed Michael out of her arms.

“I assure you I am completely sane. Where’s your blow torch?” Carrie demanded.

“Next to the duct tape I put in the bedroom while you were gone,” Michael replied, shaking his head at her hands fisted on her hips and the questioning look she gave him.

“Fine,” Michael said. He walked to a tool box, took out the blow torch and fired it up.

“Here,” he said, handing it to her and trying to keep the flame from burning both of them.

“Thanks,” Carrie said happily, walking to a table where she had set down the divorce papers when she’d come outside.

She picked up the papers, walked to Michael’s fire pit, and lit them. When they were sufficiently smoldering, she let them fall. Watching them burn, she kept putting the torch to what was left until every last piece was no more than carbon cinders.

Michael had watched what she did with crossed arms and a frown.

“What?” Carrie asked, seeing his worried glare at the fire pit as she turned off the torch.

“I didn’t want to stop what you were doing. Being an artist I really do appreciate the symbolism of burning those, but I sure hope to hell that cashier’s check I sent you wasn’t still stapled to them,” he said.

“Oops,” Carrie said, snickering and enjoying Michael’s growing panic, and then she finally gave in to a full belly laugh. With the wicked sense of humor they both had, they were probably going to be torturing each other for the rest of their lives.