Newlywed Games (8 page)

So far this wasn’t helping much. “And you, what do you believe?”

Kurt drew in a long breath, seemingly reluctant. Bruce knew his friend well enough to figure he didn’t want to force his opinion on Bruce, that he wanted to let him make up his own mind. But that was the problem. Bruce just wasn’t sure. He met Kurt’s gaze. “I’d really like to know, Kurt.”

He nodded. “I look at it this way. God is not bound by time. He already knows who you are going to marry, if you marry at all.”

Bruce was surprised that it should hit him so odd, the thought of not marrying Meg. He had never really thought of marrying her, at least not yet. But the idea of not marrying her was…what? Well, suffice it to say he didn’t like it. Not one bit.

“If you are praying and reading your Bible regularly, you are more likely to be receptive to God’s promptings. If you continue to have feelings or leadings about this person, then take action and see if you still feel the same way or if you feel like you have just made a big mistake by asking her out.”

Take action? He almost laughed out loud. He’d certainly done that, though he doubted it was what Kurt had in mind.

“How do I know if these are leadings or just my own desires?”

“Maybe God has put those desires in your heart.”

“What if you choose not to follow these leadings and go a different way?”

“If you’re seeking to be obedient, if you’re submitting your own will to God’s in prayer, I don’t think that will happen.” He paused. “This woman must be special to have prompted you to ask.”

“It’s just a feeling I have. Which confuses me because I thought we weren’t supposed to go by our feelings.”

“Test them against the Word of God. If they stand up, maybe it’s not a feeling as much as a leading.”

“Thanks, Kurt. I appreciate all your advice.”

He smiled. “Don’t mention it. I’ll keep you in my prayers. One of these days, I’m going to get you to cross the threshold of my church.”

“Thanks, but I like the church I attend.”

“They’re lucky to have you, buddy.”

Bruce smiled, wondering if Kurt would still feel that way if he told him what he’d been doing. Playing husband to a woman he hardly knew…a woman who had captured his heart, yes, but still one he didn’t know well. But he wanted to. Heaven knew he wanted to.

Lord, help
…

It was all he could think of to say.

It was late afternoon when Bruce pulled into the gravel driveway and gave an approving smile at Meghann’s
cream Honda parked there. He practically had to throw her out of the hotel. He literally escorted her out of the building to her car and watched her drive away. She couldn’t accept he was giving her so much time off.

He felt uneasy about opening her front door without knocking, but he knew he couldn’t knock. So he grabbed the doorknob, took a deep breath, and swung it open.

A warm feeling washed over him as he stepped across the threshold into the cheery atmosphere. It was so characteristic of his impetuous make-believe bride. He found he liked coming home to this cozy, welcoming setting with a beautiful wife waiting for him. The desire for this to be real jumped to life in him.

Meghann and Gayle were in the kitchen. “We are just starting dinner. It won’t be ready for a while.”

He crossed over to them and produced a variety bouquet of flowers to his pseudo-mother-in-law, who rewarded him with a pride-filled smile. He scored some points there.

With a kiss on her cheek, he handed Meghann a big bouquet of yellow carnations and red roses set in a spray of baby’s breath.

Taking them, she put her face to them and drank in their sweet scent. “They’re gorgeous. Thank you.” She turned appreciative eyes on him. His heart thumped harder in his chest.

“Yellow carnations, your favorite color and favorite flower in one.” He smiled at her surprise that he knew.

She raised her eyebrows. “And the roses?”

His smile broadened but it was Gayle who
answered. “Everyone knows what a red rose means.”

Meghann turned to her mom, but Bruce kept his eyes on her, not that he could take them off her.

“Love, daughter. And from the looks of that bouquet, he loves you a great deal.”

Meghann’s cheeks highlighted pink, and he noticed she avoided looking directly at him as she retrieved two vases to put the flowers in. He knew she knew the roses were for show and still she blushed. He also knew how to get Meg to look at him again and break the awkward tension. “Pack your bags, ladies. I have good news.”

Lucky got up from where she had been resting, trotted over to him, sat down, and stared up at him. Bruce scratched her head. “Sorry girl, you’re not invited.”

“What are you talking about?” He could hear a note of alarm in Meghann’s voice, but she was looking at him with those glorious green-brown eyes.

“We are going to my apartment.”

Her mouth dropped open; fortunately her mother was behind her and couldn’t see the stunned look on her face.

“You have your own apartment?” Gayle said, perching her hands on her hips. Her tone was a mix of surprise and anger.

He was amused by both women’s reactions. Without thought of how either one would react, he had decided that his apartment made sense. “Yes. Unfortunately, my apartment is no place for Lucky.” He reached down and patted the dog’s head. “And this cottage is too small to accommodate all my things. So, until
we find a bigger place that’s suitable for Lucky, we have two residences.”

Meghann’s mother accepted his explanation readily enough. “I won’t say a thing. Not one thing about having two places.”

Bruce held back a grin. The woman didn’t have to say it. Disapproval all but dripped from her voice.

While dinner was cooking, Meghann stared mindlessly across her backyard that spring had not touched yet while her mother repacked her suitcases for the trip to Bruce’s apartment.

Her life was in turmoil and her insides resembled a novice’s poor attempt at Boy Scout knots. What could Bruce be thinking, inviting her and her mother to his place? Certainly he wasn’t expecting them to share a room…and a bed. She wanted to ask but was afraid. What if that
was
what he had in mind? It would break her heart. She didn’t want him to be like that.

Please, Lord, don’t let him be thinking that.

“You wanted to speak to me?”

Meghann sucked in a quick breath. He’d come up so quietly, she hadn’t heard his approach.

“At least, I assumed that’s what the glare you sent me before you retreated out here meant.”

She took the soggy tennis ball from Lucky’s mouth and threw it across the yard. The dog ran after it without a care in the world. Meg wished she were so fortunate. He couldn’t really expect her to just move in with him.

She let her gaze travel from the dog’s hind end
sticking out from a bush to meet Bruce’s gaze.

“If you’re worried I might try to take advantage of you or the situation, I assure you I won’t. You have my word.”

Thank you, Lord.
She breathed a sigh of relief. “How did you know that’s what I was thinking?”

Her hand flew to cover her mouth. She couldn’t believe she’d said that out loud. But Bruce just smiled.

“It’s written all over your face and body; the worry lines across your forehead, your mouth drawn into that thin line, your stiff stance.”

She tried to relax, but in truth it was difficult with all that was going on.

“I can easily slip out after your mother goes to bed and be back before she wakes up.”

“I don’t want to kick you out of your own place. Where will you go?”

“It was my idea, remember? I’m sure I can make some sort of arrangement at the hotel.”

“I know you don’t want to disclose your reasons, but I can’t help but wonder why you are doing all this. You could pretend to go away on a trip and make this easy on yourself. It makes me wonder what’s in it for you and what you want.”

“I just want to do this for you, no strings attached. Isn’t that enough for you?”

No! She wanted specifics, details. Still, she could see that this tight-lipped Bruce Halloway wasn’t likely to give her any more than that, and she wasn’t exactly in a position to insist.

“I guess so. Of course.” It would have to be.

After dinner was cleaned up, Meghann and her mother finished packing.

“It would have been easier to go on a business trip,” Meghann whispered, handing Bruce her suitcase to put in her car trunk.

“But not nearly as much fun,” he said with a smile and closed the trunk.

She reached in her pocket and plopped something unceremoniously in his hand before retreating to the driver’s seat. He looked at the circular gold wedding band in his palm. It had a fine, etched design around it. He smiled at the back of Meg’s head as she sat alone, her posture stiff, waiting to leave. She had thought of everything, even a ring for him. As he slipped it on his finger, he noted the perfect fit. Had she bought it when she bought hers or did she run out and get it just today?

He could tell he had ruffled her feathers a little, but that was okay. He kind of liked having her off balance so he could be there to steady her.

Meghann followed Bruce and her mother, keeping a close eye on his silver gray Infinity Q45. How could an assistant manager at a hotel afford such a car? Was Bruce moonlighting?

She studied the automobile in front of her, fighting the growing anxiety. What were her mom and Bruce talking about? Why couldn’t her mom have ridden with her? She pressed her lips together. They were probably
talking about her. She bit her lip, wondering what they were saying. Was her mother asking him all sorts of questions? Embarrassing questions?

Another possibility occurred to her then, one she desperately hoped was not true. What if her mother had figured out it was all a lie?

Dread filled Meghann and she wished Bruce would drive faster. She wouldn’t be able to relax until she was able to grill them both and knew everything was okay.

“Here we go, ladies.” Bruce swung open his apartment door and gave a courtly bow.

Meghann walked in behind her mother. The apartment was spacious and lavish on the top floor of the nicest building in town. The living room was furnished with a forest green leather couch, two matching chairs, and an ottoman. A black lacquer dinette with six matching chairs and a china hutch graced the dining room. Her whole house would fit in the living/dining room combination, and the kitchen was larger than her bedroom. There was an alcove off the kitchen that was probably designed as a breakfast nook, but he had a rolltop desk with a notebook computer on it, bookshelves, and other office equipment. All the windows were shrouded in dramatic black and white crepe panels.

She helped her mother settle into the guest bedroom. It had a four-poster cherry bed with matching nightstands, armoire, and mirrored dresser. It was a gorgeous room. If this was the guest room, she wondered
what Bruce’s room looked like and quickly shut the thought out.

She looked around the living room. Here she was at his ritzy apartment with a gorgeous view of the city and mountains from his tenth-floor balcony. The carpet was plush and looked new, the furnishings luxurious. Everything was upscale, bold, dark, and masculine. She felt a sudden wave of embarrassment that he had been in her little hovel. He slept on the floor, no less. How could she have done that to him? She had lied, that’s how. Started one little lie that had become a monster. If she could stop it, she would. But how when he refused to go away?

She let her troubled gaze roam the room once more. An assistant manager must get paid more than she realized to afford a place like this. Either that or he was getting money from another source.

A pretty generous source at that…not many ways to make this kind of money legally.

“There you are.”

She spun, a guilty flush filling her cheeks at the suspicious thoughts she’d allowed a moment ago.

Fortunately, Bruce didn’t seem to notice. “I’ve put your suitcase in my bedroom.”

The implications of that statement hit her full force. He hadn’t changed his mind about his promises to her, had he? Coming here was a bad idea, a really bad idea.

“I was just looking around. You have a very nice place.” She hoped her voice didn’t give away her nervousness as she followed him into the room.

The master bedroom was furnished much the same
as the other bedroom, but instead of cherry it was black lacquer, sporting its own bathroom and a to-die-for walk-in closet.

Now it was just him and her in his bedroom. She stared into her opened suitcase on the end of the bed. Absently rummaging through it for the fifth time, she wondered how best to tell him it was time for him to vamoose. If she kept busy, she could hold her anxiety at bay.

“I emptied these two drawers for you,” Bruce said behind her.

She froze and didn’t say a word. Her stomach clenched into one huge knot.

Bruce came up beside her. “It would look suspicious if your mom noticed you were living out of a suitcase.”

“I forgot my nightg—pajamas.” She rifled through her suitcase once again. “I can’t believe I did that. I usually forget my toothbrush. Well, it’s not like I’ve never forgotten them, but more often it has been my toothbrush.” She opened her cosmetic bag and produced her toothbrush. “See here it is. I have my toothbrush. Uh-oh. I don’t have my toothpaste. I forgot my toothpaste, too. I packed in such a rush; I guess I wasn’t very careful. I wonder what else I forgot. I hope I didn’t forget anything else.” She dug deep in her suitcase like it was a matter of life or death that she find out if she forgot anything else.