- Home
- Christine Rimmer
McFarlane's Perfect Bride Page 10
McFarlane's Perfect Bride Read online
Page 10
“I’m here,” he said, and meant it in more ways than one. “What’s up with the baby horses?”
CJ chuckled. “Foals, dad.”
“Right. Foals. Well?”
“Ryan and I are trying to decide on a name for the one born Friday. And the other hasn’t come yet. So I was wondering…”
“You want to stay over another night, is that it?”
“Yeah. I was hoping it might be okay.”
“What does Russ say?”
“He says it’s okay.”
In the background, he heard Russ’s voice. “Fine with me.”
“All right. Until tomorrow morning.” They had a few big things to talk about. And they needed to do that before Jennifer came back Monday.
“Okay, Dad. I really gotta go. That foal is coming any minute now, I can just feel it.”
Connor murmured a goodbye and heard the click as CJ hung up. He called Tori.
She answered on the first ring. “You’re back.”
The sound of her voice made his arms ache to hold her. “I want to see you.” The words came out low. Rough. Hungry. Not all that surprising, since he was hungry. For her.
A low laugh escaped her, a laugh that teased him. “I’m home. Come over right now.”
Tori was at the door, waiting for him, when he rang the bell.
She yanked it wide and sighed at the sight of him, so tall, so handsome. Her own personal corporate shark, who had somehow turned out to be the man she longed for. The kind of man she could believe in. She beamed up at him. “I thought you’d never get here.”
His dark gaze ran over her, head to toe and back up again. “I know exactly how you feel.” And then he reached for her.
She swayed toward him, lifting her mouth for that first, delicious kiss. He covered her lips with his, wrapping his arms good and tight around her, lifting her feet right off the floor, so he could carry her back across her threshold and shove the door shut behind them with his foot.
He kept walking, to the open door just beyond the foyer and right through it. The second he lowered her feet to the rug by the bed, she started tugging on his shirt, unzipping his trousers.
As she undressed him, he did the same for her. He took her camisole top by the hem and pulled it up and off. He undid her shorts and pushed them down. She was naked in no time.
And so was he. They fell across the bed together rolling, kissing as they caressed each other, each so eager, starving for the simple thrill of the other’s hungry touch.
She needed no slow seduction. Not today. Her body was ready for him just from his kiss, from his long, knowing fingers parting her, stroking her. She stuck out a hand and fumbled for the small drawer by the side of the bed.
Since their first time, she’d moved the condoms front and center, with some loose and waiting, outside the box. She grabbed one, broke their endless kiss long enough to rip the top off the pouch with her teeth.
“Now,” she whispered to him.
“Oh, yeah…” He rolled them again, so they were on their sides, facing each other.
She reached down between them, loving the hard, hot length of him, as well as the way he moaned when she positioned the condom and rolled it down over him, fitting it smooth and tight.
“Now,” he groaned again, and rolled her under him. She opened for him, so ready.
And then he was in her. She wrapped her legs around him. There was only pure sensation, of his body pressed to hers, his hardness filling her, his hips rocking into hers in a rhythm she knew by heart.
She grabbed him closer. She held on so tight. The pleasure bloomed wide, and then contracted in a shimmer of sparks and light.
Her bathtub wasn’t that large, but it was big enough for two.
They went in there and filled it and sank into the welcoming heat together. He made his body a cradle for hers and she leaned back against his strong chest and shut her eyes.
“Heaven,” she whispered on a sigh. “This, and the rest of it. I love it when you’re touching me.” His arm, dusted with silky dark hair, rested on the rim of the tub. She ran a wet finger along the strong length of it. “And I love touching you…”
He nuzzled her neck. “It’s mutual. Take my word for it.” And then he pulled away enough to rest his dark head back on the towel she’d given him to use as a pillow. He was still.
Too still?
Some sharp instinct had her turning to glance over her damp shoulder at him. “Connor?”
“Umm?” He had his eyes closed, his head back, cradled by the towel.
“Is everything…okay?” She wondered why she’d asked that as soon as the words escaped her lips.
But then he sat up straight again and met her gaze levelly.
And she knew that her weird instinct was true. “What is it?”
Suddenly, his eyes were bleak. “I need to ask you something. A…favor. And I’m afraid that when I do, you’ll not only say no, you’ll ask me to leave. And not to come back.”
She moved, then, gripping the tub sides, sloshing water as she turned around to face him. “I think you’d better just ask, then.”
“All right. Here it is. I want us to pretend, for the summer, that we are engaged.”
She sputtered, “B-but whatever for?”
“Hear me out, okay, before you give me an answer?”
She raked her damp hair back off her forehead. “Okay, then. Explain. And this had better be good.”
Chapter Eight
Tori listened, not sure what to think, as Connor told her all of it: the visit from his ex-wife, her demand that he let her send CJ away. Connor’s refusal. His ex’s threats. His lies—that Tori was tutoring CJ, and that she was his fiancée.
When he was finished, she got out of the bathtub, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself. She handed him one, too, and waited as he rose, the cooling bathwater slicking off his fine, hard body.
He dried himself and entered the bedroom, where he pulled on his trousers. She traded her towel for the terry cloth robe that hung on the back of the bathroom door.
They went into the kitchen. Neither of them said a word as she made coffee for him, prepared tea for herself. They both sat at the table.
She sipped her tea. “As to the tutoring. Yes, of course.”
“Thank you.” He lifted his coffee cup, drank. Set it down.
“But as far as the other…” She felt uncomfortable saying it right out: pretending to be engaged to him, playing at being his fiancée. No matter how she chose to put it, it sounded like a foolish thing for two grown people to be doing.
A foolish thing—and a lie.
“As far as the other…” She started again, let the words fade off a second time. She rested her elbows on the table and leaned toward him. “Do you think it’s really necessary? I mean, won’t the summer be over before she can get any kind of judgment taking him away from you?”
He sipped more coffee. “Legally, she might be able to get some judge to order me to turn CJ over to her within a week or two.”
“But don’t you share custody? Don’t you have as much right to be with your son as she does?”
He looked away—and then faced her again. “It’s like this. We share legal custody, but she has physical custody and I have open visitation rights—meaning when I want a weekend with him, I call at least two weeks in advance and she, within reason, has to let me have him, up to a possible total of thirty weekends a year.” He set his cup down and turned to gaze blindly out the window again. “That seemed fine with me, at the time of the settlement. I never dreamed I’d want to spend that much time with him, anyway. Frankly, at that point, I wasn’t looking forward to the occasional weekend I’d feel duty-bound to take him.” Connor continued to stare out the window. Even in profile, she could see how disgusted he was with himself.
She had to actively resist the need to reach across, to cover his hand with hers. “But then Jennifer guilted you into taking him for the summer…”
He looked at her again. “And I’ve slowly discovered I want to be a real dad, after all.”
She reminded him, “CJ’s fifteen. Isn’t that old enough to have a say in this? You are going to tell him what’s going on, won’t you?”
He nodded. “He’s at the Flying J overnight. Tomorrow, when I pick him up, I’ll talk to him about it. Find out for sure what he wants.”
“If he wants to stay—which I’m guessing he will—that should be enough, shouldn’t it, to sway any judge? That a fifteen-year-old boy should get the summer with his father, the summer that his mother set up in the first place?”
“I’m hoping it won’t come to CJ having to face a judge over something that was supposed to have been settled already.”
“To…choose sides between you and his mother in court, you mean?”
“That is exactly what I mean. I just want to give him—give both of us—this summer we didn’t even know that we needed. I don’t want to lose the ground I’ve gained with him. And if she gets a judge to order me to let her take him away…well, he’s been making real progress. His attitude about me, about life…about himself, really—it’s all so much better. He even seems happy at times lately, you know? I don’t think I can bear to let Jennifer snatch that away from him.”
Tori looked down into her teacup, but found no answers there. “I’m still not sure that pretending I’m your fiancée is going to help you with this.”
“You’re a respected schoolteacher. You’re likable. A good person. The kind of woman who would be the perfect stepmother for him, an ideal choice for my wife. If I can tell my lawyers that you’re going to marry me, going to help me provide the kind of home CJ will thrive in when he’s with us, and that’s why I’ve decided to sue for joint custody, they should be able to hold the line on Jennifer until at least the end of August.”
Hold the line, she thought. He wants to hold the line. He thought that she, Tori, would make the perfect wife and mother. But he still wasn’t offering to make it real between them. He wanted to play at being married, just long enough to keep his ex at bay.
Oh, it would be so easy to get angry with him now.
But no. She had known who he was, what he was and wasn’t capable of, when she decided to snatch this one beautiful summer with him. She refused to suddenly start expecting more of him than he was willing to give.
“Connor. Has it occurred to you that maybe your lawyers can hold the line anyway, without me having to pose as your fiancée?”
“Yeah. It’s occurred to me. But I’m willing to play every angle I’ve got to keep my son where he wants to be, to make sure he gets his summer in Thunder Canyon. If I let Jennifer send him away now, I’ll lose what progress I’ve made trying to show him that I want to be a real father to him. I can’t afford that. He can’t afford that.”
When he said it that way, she wanted to say yes, to promise she would be his pretend fiancée if he needed her to, to do anything to help him and CJ.
And yet…
“What about when the summer’s over?”
He sighed. “Frankly, Tori, I’m not looking that far ahead.”
“Don’t you think maybe you should?”
After a moment, he nodded. “Yeah. All right. When the summer’s over, we would…break up. It does happen, you know.”
“And then what about your custody arrangement?”
“I’m hoping I’ll have joint physical custody by then. And I am CJ’s father. Once I have joint custody, it’s going to be very hard for Jennifer to convince a judge to take it away.”
“You think you can settle a custody battle in two months?”
“I don’t know. Maybe not. But I can keep Jennifer from sending CJ away for that long. With your help, I know I can keep CJ here, where he wants to be, until school starts. With your help, I’ll have two months to prove to my son that I really do intend to be a father to him.”
Tori got up, went to the counter, got a fresh tea bag and poured more hot water over it. She purposely kept her back to him the whole time.
Finally, she turned to him. “I can’t make this decision today. I need a little time to think about it. And I think you need to talk with CJ, make absolutely certain that he actually wants what we’re both so sure he does.”
“I understand.” He pushed his coffee cup away and rose. “I have to know your answer by tomorrow, so I can call my lawyers first thing Monday morning.”
She picked a random deadline out of the air, because he needed one—and because she did, too. “Tomorrow afternoon.”
“Two o’clock?”
“I’ll be here.”
After Connor left, the house seemed emptier than usual. Tori ran a load of laundry, dusted the living room, changed the sheets on the bed. The simple, everyday actions brought her no closer to having a decision to offer Connor.
She hoped that by the morning, she’d have made up her mind.
Allaire called at a little after three and invited her over for dinner that night. “I mean, if you haven’t got a hot date with you-know-who…” Allaire’s voice was teasing, free of any hint of judgment. Whatever her private opinion of Connor, she wasn’t going to put him down while Tori was going out with him.
Tori wondered wryly what her friend would say if she announced tomorrow that she and Connor were engaged.
“I would love to come. What time should I be there and what can I bring?”
“That yummy salad you make with the mandarin oranges and roasted pecans. Six?”
“I’m there, on time, with the salad.”
The evening was a good one. Dinner was delicious and Tori got to help tuck Alex into bed. Later, she considered confiding in her best friend.
But she dismissed that idea about a minute after she thought of it. Allaire would tell her she was crazy to even consider such a thing, that perpetrating a big, fat lie would do no good for anyone—and likely cause everyone involved a world of hurt.
Plus, well, whatever Allaire’s reaction might be to the news that Connor had asked Tori to pose as his bride-to-be, it just wasn’t right to tell her. It wasn’t right to tell anyone. Connor had confided in her, put his trust in her. She would not betray that trust, whatever decision she made come tomorrow afternoon.
Before Tori left for the twenty-mile drive home from the small ranch Allaire and DJ owned, Allaire asked her if she had something on her mind. Tori put on a bright smile and lied through her teeth.
“Nope. Not a thing. Thanks. It was a good evening.” She hugged her friend, said good-night to DJ, grabbed her empty salad bowl and took her leave.
At home, she turned on all the lights in spite of the waste of electricity. But pushing back the shadows did little to banish her apprehensions. So she turned most of them back off again and she stayed up until after two watching movies she’d already seen before.
There was something so comforting about knowing how it would all come out in the end.
At ten the next morning, Connor collected CJ at the Flying J. CJ talked steadily through the whole drive back to the house in New Town. The second foal had been born, though they’d had to call the vet since the foal was breech and Russ couldn’t get it to turn.
“Dad. It’s gross. But kind of amazing, you know? Uncle Russ just stuck his arms inside that mare, past his elbows, and tried to turn that foal around. And the vet did the same thing—and it worked that time. The foals are so cute, little spindly legs, and those great big eyes.”
Connor glanced over at his son. “So you had a good time, huh?”
CJ grunted. “Dad, I had a great time.”
Connor decided to wait till they were at the house to discuss Jennifer’s demand.
But as soon as they got there and got CJ’s duffel and pack inside, CJ announced, “I have to call Jerilyn,” and disappeared into his room.
Connor waited. A half an hour later, CJ was still in his room with the door shut. He waited another fifteen minutes before he tapped on the door.
“Yeah?”<
br />
Connor turned the doorknob and stuck his head in. His son was sprawled on the bed, the phone to his ear.
“Hold on,” CJ said, and took the phone away from his ear. “Dad, can I go over to Jerilyn’s?”
Why not? “Sure, but I need a minute or two first. There’s something we should discuss.” He tried to sound easy and casual, not to get CJ upset before they’d even started talking.
But the kid must have picked up something. “What’s wrong?”
Connor put on a smile. “Tell Jerilyn hi for me and say you’ll be over soon. Then we’ll talk.”
Not sixty seconds later, CJ joined him in the living room. He dropped to the sofa. “So…what’s up?”
Connor, in the club chair across the coffee table—the same chair he’d sat in when Jennifer laid down her ultimatum—had no idea how to begin this conversation, though he’d been rehearsing it in his head since he left Tori’s house the day before.
“Dad?”
Connor sucked in a breath—and laid it right out there. “Your mother came here yesterday. She came to pick you up. She’s arranged for you to spend the summer at the MonteVera School in Switzerland. She wants you to get a chance to focus on your schoolwork, to get caught up for next term.”
CJ said a very bad word, followed by a single syllable in the negative. “No.”
“I’m going to ignore the swearing in this situation.”
“Gee, Dad. Thanks.” CJ ladled on the sarcasm. And then he asked, with more hope than anger, “What did you tell her?”
“I told her absolutely not. That we had an arrangement already in place for the summer and I intended to stick with it, that you were enjoying your stay here in Thunder Canyon and I saw no reason to send you to Switzerland.”
CJ’s face lit up. The sight not only tugged at Connor’s heartstrings, it also made him all the more certain he’d called it right in this case. “You did? You said that?”