The Best Bride (14 page)

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Authors: Susan Mallery

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BOOK: The Best Bride
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“Come outside,” he said. “It's a beautiful night.”

She hesitated. It would be better for both of them if she went to her room—alone. The two of them sitting in the dark could get into a lot of trouble. Their kiss this afternoon had proved that, and it had still been daylight. But the cool night beckoned. She was tired from her long day, but not in pain.

“I won't bite,” he promised.

How could she resist him? “If you're sure,” she said, and stepped out onto the porch.

The light beside the front door cast a soft glow down the steps. The swing was to her left, but she felt that would be tempting fate too much, so she sat on the top step and pulled her full skirt over her knees to her ankles. Travis settled next to her. The night air was full of sounds: crickets, the soft buzz of invisible flying wings, the hoot-hoot of an owl. She inhaled the smells. Damp earth from a brief afternoon shower, the last lingering sweetness of the roses by the porch rail and the hint of woodsmoke from some faraway fireplace.

A quarter moon hung just above the horizon. This was a different sky than she was used to. The lights of Los Angeles washed out most of the stars, but up here she could see the twinkling lights of the constellations.

Travis sat close enough for them to touch. Shoulder to thigh. She should probably pull away, but he was warm and familiar, her only anchor in her new world.

“You want to talk about Mandy's father?” he asked. He'd lowered his voice, but it still sounded loud in the quiet evening. “I assume you heard what she said.”

“Most of it.” She folded her arms on top of her knees and rested her chin on them. “I can't.”

“How about your father?”

“What?”

She glanced sideways at him. He smiled at her. In the soft light, he looked like a chiseled statue. His hair and mustache were the color of midnight, his skin a polished bronze. If it wasn't for the warmth of his arm brushing her and the heat seeping through her dress from hip and thigh, she would have wondered if he was real. She'd escaped her past and had somehow stumbled upon this man. Was fate being kind or playing the most horrible joke on her?

“I'm changing the subject. Tell me about your family. Did you grow up in L.A.?”

“In the area. Near San Bernardino. A small town, a lot like this one. Then I went to the big bad city to go to college.”

“And you're the only child.”

“Yes. Mom was in her late thirties when I was born, and that was a lot less popular then. I was lonely growing up. I'd always planned on having three or four kids of my own to make up for it, but it didn't turn out that way.”

“You could have them now.”

“I'm not sure. Being a single mom is hard. I'm not getting married.”
Again.
She almost said it, but at the last minute held back the word. Still it hung in the night like a winged creature before taking flight and disappearing into the silence. She cleared her throat. “What about you?”

Either he didn't notice that now she was the one changing the subject, or he was too kind to comment. She had a feeling it was the latter.

“Four boys, an assortment of uncles dropping by to visit. It was noisy.” He shrugged. She felt the rise and fall of his shirt as it brushed against her skin. It was nice. “My dad was sheriff of Glenwood for about twenty-five years.”

“Did you work for him?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “For about a minute. He took an early retirement, but there was a month there when I was his newest deputy.” He paused. When he spoke again, his voice was different. “He rode me hard.”

“Did it make you angry?”

He turned to look at her. “Why do you ask?”

“You sounded...” She trailed off. “Bitter, I guess.”

“Maybe I am. Not about the work, that was fine. Dad and his brothers were the original good ol' boys. They lived hard, drank hard, played hard. By the time I was ten, three of my four uncles were divorced. The fourth one, Bob, never bothered getting married. I knew my dad had a bunch of girlfriends, not to mention a mistress he kept in the next town.” He drew in a deep breath. “This is the seedy side of the Haynes family legend. Sorry. You don't want to hear this.”

She felt bad that he'd gone through that, but part of her was grateful to have something to focus on other than her own problems. She shifted until she was facing him. Her knees bumped his thighs. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and letting his hands hang loose.

“People in town think it was all good times and parties at our house,” he said at last. “It wasn't. My folks fought a lot. You can imagine what my mom thought of my dad's activities.” His mouth twisted into a grim smile. “He was so damn proud of himself. He had four sons and, no matter what else he did, he woke up every morning in his own bed. What a saint.” He drew in a breath. “She split when Kyle was fifteen. Packed her bags and left. Not a word, or a note. We thought about looking for her, but we figured if she wanted to stay in touch, she knew where to find us.”

“How old were you?”

“Twenty-one. It didn't really bother me. I'd just finished college and was about to find my own place anyway, but it hit Kyle hard. Jordan, too, but he wouldn't show it.”

Elizabeth's heart squeezed painfully. Jordan wasn't the only one who didn't want to show his pain. Travis might have been older, but she had a feeling his mother's abandonment had hurt him just as much. She was torn. Part of her couldn't blame the woman for walking out on Travis's father, but she didn't understand how a mother could abandon her sons.

“So you decided to punish all women for what she'd done?” she asked.

“No. It's not like that. None of us are angry at women. Nobody has figured out how to make it work.” He turned his head and looked at her. She saw the sadness in his eyes. Instinctively she reached out and rested her hand on his forearm. He didn't acknowledge the comfort, but she didn't mind. He felt warm and strong, even with all his pain. She liked to think she was giving a little back.

“Craig got married right out of college. Had three boys. But he couldn't make it work. I tried with Julie. You know what happened there. I come from a long line of ducks.”

“What?”

“If it looks like a duck and walks like a— Never mind. We talked about it, my brothers and I. Watching our dad and the uncles fool around convinced us that we were all going to be faithful to the women in our lives. Wishing isn't enough, is it? Monogamy doesn't guarantee success. There's something else we all just don't get.”

He stared into the night. Their backgrounds were so different, she thought. Yet here they sat together, facing their personal demons. She was glad that she and Travis could be friends. They needed each other.

“So you stay single forever?” she asked.

“There doesn't seem to be a choice.”

“What about children?”

He turned on the step, shifting so his back pressed against the railing. He parted his thighs and rested his right foot on the porch, bending his knee. His other foot balanced on the bottom step. Her calves brushed against his inner thigh. It was a very intimate position. Her gaze seemed drawn to his chest, drifting lower to his trousers. She looked away before she reached dangerous territory, but their new positions made her hyperaware of his heat and scent. She clutched her arms to her chest.

“I'd like a family,” he said, seemingly unaware of what he was doing to her. “But it's not in the cards for me.”

“Too bad. You're wonderful with Mandy.”

He brushed off her compliment with a flick of his wrist. “Speaking of Mandy, I've been thinking. There's a soccer league for the younger kids. It gives them something to do during football season. The teams are coed, but they match them up by size and skill. Sign-ups are tomorrow. I thought I could take her to the park. What do you think?”

“I think you're a sheep in wolf's clothing, Travis Haynes. All this tough talk, but underneath, you're a sweetie.”

His slow, sexy grin chased the last of the shadows from his eyes. “Tell anyone, and you're dead meat.”

“Tough guy, you don't scare me. Soccer will be great for Mandy. Thanks for offering to take her.”

“No problem. I know the coaches. She'll have fun and make lots of friends.”

She leaned forward. “Travis, you're wonderful with kids. This is a perfect example. You shouldn't dismiss that.”

“The truth is, I'm a sprinter. It's easy to play daddy for a couple of hours, but it makes a big difference when the kids are yours. I know. I've seen Craig struggling.”

“You keep saying that you don't have what it takes, but from everything I've seen, all the parts are in working order.”

He raised his dark eyebrows. Instantly her gaze dropped to his crotch and she remembered the feel of his hardness pressing against her. She blushed and looked away. “You know what I meant.”

“I prefer
my
interpretation of what you said.”

She sank back against the railing. “I think it's time for me to say good-night.”

“Not so fast.”

He stood on the bottom step and loomed over her. His head moved lower, blocking out the night stars. His hands touched her almost-bare shoulders, making her instantly tremble. But at the last minute, she turned her face away. His mouth grazed her cheek.

“Elizabeth?”

“I can't,” she whispered. She risked looking up at him. Confusion filled his brown eyes, fighting the fire there and slowly putting it out. She couldn't. For a thousand sensible reasons that all boiled down to being afraid of making the same mistake again.

If only she'd met Travis seven years ago. If only he'd been the one to steal her heart and seduce her body. But it hadn't been Travis, it had been Sam. Maybe if Sam had beat her or cheated on her, it would have been easier to get over what happened. But how was she supposed to recover from being a fool? How was she supposed to forget the lies?

Travis stepped back and held out his hand to help her up. She ignored him and rose. A pain jabbed her side as her movements pulled the incision.

“I'm sorry,” she said, looking over his left shoulder. “I can't do this. I'm not what you think I am.” She smiled sadly, knowing she either had to smile or cry. Already her eyes were burning. She prayed she made it to her room before she gave way.

“So it all comes back to that damn mystery,” he growled. “What is so terrible?”

“Don't ask me, please. I really appreciate everything you've done. I'm very grateful.”

“I don't want your gratitude.”

She blinked several times, but it didn't help. One tear rolled free. She brushed it off her cheek. “It's all I have to give you, Travis. There's nothing else. Please believe me. I'm not who you think I am.”

Chapter Eight

T
he coach blew his whistle, but none of the kids on the field paid any attention. They continued to chase the white soccer ball, screaming with excitement in the frenzy of being the first one to actually kick the ball. When the ball made a sudden left turn, Mandy was right there. She stared down at it, her expression a mixture of confusion and delight; then she kicked for all she was worth. The ball sailed into the air and landed out of bounds. Travis stood up and cheered. The coach wearily shook his head and continued to blow the whistle. Finally the dozen or so six-and seven-year-olds quieted down to listen.

For the fifth time, the coach explained the rules of the game. Each of the children nodded earnestly, then scattered in an effort to find and kick the ball. Travis chuckled. Mandy was right in the middle of the pack. With her bright red shorts and T-shirt she was easy to spot. Her blond ponytail swung with each step.

“The kid's a natural athlete,” he said.

“You sound like a proud papa.”

He shifted on the bleachers set up on the side of the field and turned around. A sultry brunette with legs that stretched from here to forever smiled down at him. Her cropped T-shirt and microscopic shorts left little to the imagination.

“Unless you've been hiding something, Travis, she couldn't possibly be yours.”

“No, Amber. She's the daughter of a friend of mine. I brought her to the practice. I'm surprised to see you here.”

“Jimmy's playing.” She motioned to the field. A short dark-haired boy ran tenaciously after the ball. “You know how Karl is about sports.”

He did know. Karl was one of his deputies. A former college football hero, Karl had hoped for a career in the pros. He had the heart but lacked speed. Amber had married him before the 49ers released him from his contract. Rumor had it she wasn't happy about being cheated out of her role as the professional football player's wife. Travis couldn't confirm the rumors, but the last two times he'd stopped Amber for speeding, she'd offered to pay her ticket with something other than cash. He'd refused. Even if Karl hadn't been his subordinate and a friend, Travis didn't dally with married women.

“My husband's working today,” she said, moving down closer to where he was sitting. “But then you know that, don't you? Are you going to be at all the practices? They take a couple of hours, don't they?” She moved closer and smiled. “Maybe we could get a cup of coffee, or something.”

It was the “something” that had him worried. “Thanks, but I don't think so, Amber. I'd rather stay with the kids.”

Her perfect features twisted into a snarl. “I always knew your reputation was a lot of hype, Travis. Figures there'd
be nothing hot in this crappy little town.” She jumped off the bleachers and stalked away.

It was starting to make sense, he thought, remembering how distracted Karl had been lately. Amber must be making his life hell. He grimaced. Looks like the Haynes boys weren't the only ones who couldn't keep their marriages together.

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