Forgotten Honeymoon (7 page)

“Closer to two weeks, now.”

“--before the wedding make everyone think I’m
impulsive, flighty, and irresponsible?” That’s what she’d been
calling herself ever since she’d learned that she’d married Lars on
the rebound.

Her mother patted her hand. “Don’t worry.
Everyone likes Lars. Besides, you’ve always been a little
impulsive. Think of all the lessons you took as a child: first it
was tuba, then fencing, then ice-skating, then water colors,
Spanish, violin ...”

“That makes me sound as if I can’t make up my
mind.”

“No, once you finally make up your mind, you
stick to it. Look at your pottery. You’ve been doing that for
years, now. You’re just more willing than most people to try new
things.”

Is that what had happened with her and Lars?
Was their fling the adult version of tuba lessons?

Kelly persisted, “So you’re not worried about
me and Lars getting married.” For the first time in a long time,
she desperately wanted her mother’s approval.

“Why should I be? I know you’ve always liked
him.”

“As a friend, yes, but not --” She stopped
herself. She and Lars had agreed to make this look as a love match.
Otherwise, it would be too humiliating.

Her mother smiled fondly. “I remember when he
first came to work for your father straight out of college. You
found every excuse in the world to go by the showroom.”

Kelly remembered her schoolgirl crush. It was
humiliating. She’d done everything she could think of to get his
attention -- she wore short skirts and noisy jewelry to catch his
eye. She told him jokes, asked him about the movies he’d seen, even
begged him to help her with her math. “But he never reciprocated.
He tried to avoid me.” Once she saw him duck into another office
when she came down the hall.

“Of course. You were only fifteen years old.
What’s the word they use -- jail bait?”

“Mother!” Kelly gasped, surprised she even
knew the term.

“But it’s true. You were much too young for
him.”

Kelly had never thought of that. All she knew
was that after weeks of rejection, she’d finally given up on him,
burying her attraction.

But what did she feel for him now, eight
years later? Those kisses in her father’s office had shaken her,
and for the past two days she’d avoided Lars, telling him she had a
crucial deadline and needed to work on her pots. Lars respected
deadlines and didn’t pressure her to spend time with him.

She did have deadlines for a few commissioned
pieces, but he didn’t know she sat for hours at the wheel, molding
the same clay into dozens of forms, unhappy with all of them.

Kelly reached over to kiss her mother’s
cheek. “Thank you, Mom,” she said. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” her mother said, turning
back to the tea cups. “Remember to get a guest list from Lars.”

#

They drove up to a huge three story stucco
house with a large circular drive in front. Kelly muttered under
her breath, “A little small, isn’t it?”

The realtor overheard her and looked at Lars
with concern. “If you’d rather look at something else ...”

Kelly saw the frown lines on Lars’ forehead
and quickly amended, “No, I’m joking. Let’s look at it.” Lars had
spent three days looking at houses without her, and she had agreed
to look at the ones he liked. She just hadn’t expected them to be
so big.

As they walked up the beautifully landscaped
walk, Kelly said, “I still don’t see why we can’t stay in your
condo for a while. Two bedrooms should be fine.”

“We’ll need more space when the baby comes.
He’ll want a yard to play in.”

Kelly noticed that he already assumed they’d
have a son. At the mention of the baby, the realtor gave her a
speculative glance, quickly masked. She said smoothly, “This home
has a beautiful yard. It’s on three quarters of an acre, and notice
the native oak and pine trees .....”

“Lovely,” Kelly murmured. She read that look.
It implied,
So that’s how you trapped him into marriage.

She should have dressed better, she realized,
as the other woman unlocked the ornately carved front door. Lars
was in a suit and tie, as always, and the realtor was in a tailored
red jacket, short black skirt and black hose. But she looked like a
teenager in a sleeveless cotton tank top that bared her midriff,
paint splattered jeans and sandals. She had planned to upgrade to a
clean fitted t-shirt and a denim skirt, but she’d started painting
a display table and lost track of time. Next time, she’d set an
alarm to remind herself to get ready. She didn’t want to give Lars
any reason to be ashamed of her.

The house had five bedrooms, a living room, a
dining room, a breakfast nook, a family room, and a library. “We’re
going to need beepers just to find each other,” Kelly said.

Lars put his arm around her bare waist and
gave her a little squeeze. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep track of
you.”

Kelly liked the feel of his skin on hers, and
how it made her pulse accelerate. She looked up at him with a shy
smile. How could she have ever thought Lars was unexciting? He was
quiet, yes, but underneath that reserve, was a burning passion.

His eyes darkened and he stepped away,
breaking contact.

What was the problem? First he touched her
and then he backed off, as if he was afraid she was going to attack
him. She was definitely getting mixed messages from him.

“And here’s another bathroom,” the realtor
said, opening a door.

“How many does this make?” Kelly asked, duly
noting the marble counter tops.

“Three and a half, not counting the bath in
the master suite.”

Four and a half baths for two adults and a
baby? “I hope you’re handy with a scrub brush,” she said to Lars.
“I’m not very domestic.”

“We’ll hire a cleaning service,” he said.

“And this is the master suite,” the realtor
said with a flourish.

Kelly had never thought she’d buy a house
with a suite. The room was large with a stone fireplace, flanked by
a wall of bookcases. The windows ran from the floor to the ceiling.
Kelly walked across the plush cream colored carpet. “I won’t need
my studio any more,” she joked, spinning around with her arms
outstretched. “I could set up shop in here. I’ll put my wheel over
by that window and my kilns in the walk-in closet.”

Lars smiled. “Do you like it?”

“Yes, it’s lovely. But can we afford it?”

The realtor made a point of pushing one of
the curtains aside and looking out onto the backyard to give them
some privacy.

Kelly asked, “Can you afford it, Lars?”

“Yes.”

“Rawlins must be doing very well.”

He nodded. “If you’ve noticed, your dividends
have tripled this year.”

Kelly paid little attention to all that. She
put all her energy into running KPots and lived simply off its
profits. She rarely thought about her shares of Rawlins stock.

“This is a beautiful home, Lars, but doesn’t
it seem excessive for two adults and a baby?”

His voice lowered to a husky whisper. “I’m
hoping we’ll have more than one child.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t thought of that. She was
still getting used to the idea of having one. But if he wanted more
children, that meant they’d be sleeping together. This wouldn’t be
just a marriage of convenience. She could imagine them together,
making love in front of the stone fireplace.

The glint in his eye made her think he might
be thinking along similar lines. Nervously, she cleared her throat.
“How many children do you want?” She walked over to the fireplace,
as if interested in the stonework.

“We can decide later,” he said calmly,
following her, but not too closely. “Think about it. You’re an only
child. Wouldn’t you have liked a brother or sister while you were
growing up?”

“I guess so.” Kelly had had a happy
childhood, lacking for nothing.

“And we’ll need room for entertaining,” he
added.

“That’s my mom’s specialty, not mine,” she
reminded. “My idea of throwing a party is ordering a dozen
pizzas.”

“I know,” he said dryly. “I’ve been to some
of your parties.”

Had he? She hadn’t paid enough attention to
him. But he was right. He was the Vice President of a multi-million
dollar company, and as his wife, there would be some social
obligations. “I’m sure I can put on a dinner or two, if you want,”
she said finally. “I want us to be a team, Lars. I want to be a
good wife.”

He kissed her forehead. “You are a good
wife,” he said quietly, as if reassuring a child. “Now, do you
think you could be happy here?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, we’ll take it,” he said in a louder
voice to the realtor. “Make an offer and draw up the necessary
papers.”

“What?” Kelly demanded, stepping back.
“Aren’t we going to look around at more properties, and talk about
it?”

He said, “I thought you didn’t want to be
bothered with all that.”

He was quoting her exact words. “I can be
happy anywhere,” she’d told him; “Find something you like,” she’d
said; so it wasn’t fair to protest now. She looked at him, eyes
narrowed. His take-charge attitude had its downside, she realized.
If she wasn’t careful, she’d be swept up into his plans.

Is that how they’d gotten married?

The realtor looked hopefully between them.
“Do you want to think about this some more?”

Kelly looked at Lars. She sensed that he was
in a hurry to buy a house and get settled. Probably so he could get
back to work. He’d been taking a lot of time off, lately. Now that
they were staying married, there was no more talk of his leaving
Rawlins. “No, this is fine,” she said. It didn’t matter where she
lived, so she’d save her arguments for something more important.
“If you want it, let’s buy it.”

Lars smiled at her. “Thank you. I know you’ll
have a lot of fun decorating it.”

That was going to be challenging, she
thought. She had no idea what Lars liked in furnishings, but she
would bet he had conservative tastes and would want a lot of heavy
cherry wood and oak antiques. She preferred empty rooms and walls
with pillows on the floor. But good relationships were built on
compromise, and she was willing to compromise. Besides, as a Vice
President of Rawlins, his house would need to be a showplace.

As they walked through the marble tiled front
foyer, Kelly glanced at the chandelier above them. “This will have
to go,” she said at the same time he said, “Naturally, we’ll
upgrade the light fixtures.”

Kelly smiled at the way their minds worked in
unison. She said slowly, “I see this area bright red with a yellow
ceiling, don’t you?”

The realtor’s eyes widened and Lars choked
out, “What?”

Kelly giggled at his look of horror. “I’m
just kidding.”

He hooked his finger around a belt loop on
her colorful jeans and gave a little tug. “I’m not sure I should
trust you with a paint brush.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You shouldn’t trust
me, period,” she teased, but the joke fell flat. Lars stiffened and
turned away, avoiding her gaze.

The closeness they’d just shared was gone. Of
course Lars didn’t trust her. He thought she’d married him and
slept with him out of revenge. Kelly’s heart felt like a stone in
her throat.

The realtor looked uncomfortable. “I’ll draw
up the papers and get back to you as soon as possible, Mr.
Henderson,” she said with forced cheerfulness. She nodded at Kelly.
“Mrs. Henderson.”

Mrs. Henderson
. It still sounded like
someone else.

They drove back to her studio in awkward
silence. Finally, Kelly said, “It’s a beautiful house. I’m sure
we’ll be very happy there.”

His lips stayed in a straight line.
“Yes.”

“Did you notice azalea bushes? The front yard
is going to be beautiful in March.”

“Yes.”

He wasn’t really listening to her. Kelly
sighed. “I’m trying to make the best of our situation, Lars. I’d
appreciate your cooperation. If you’re mad at me for some reason,
tell me, instead of sulking. I can’t read your mind.”

“I’m not sulking,” he said, then the corner
of his mouth lifted in a half smile. “Maybe I am.”

She relaxed. This was the good natured Lars
she liked so well. “So what’s the trouble?”

He shook his head. “It’s not important.”

Translated, that meant he didn’t want to tell
her. Knowing him, he was probably thinking of something from her
lost weekend. “I may never remember those days,” she said quietly.
“Don’t you think it’s better for us to focus on the present and
what we can do now to make the best possible future? No matter what
we’ve done, can’t we still be friends?” As she spoke, she realized
this was what she wanted from him. A marriage based on respect and
friendship. Sprinkled with a few electrifying, heart-jumping kisses
like those in her father’s office, she admitted wryly. She
definitely wanted more of those.

He parked his car beside hers in the
driveway. He turned to smile at her. “Yes, you’re right. Forgive
me.”

He had so much to forgive her for -- for
using him to get back at Nigel. She still found that impossible to
believe, but if it weren’t true, why had she lied to him? She
reached up to brush a lock of hair off his forehead. “It must be
very difficult for you, having your bride forget the
honeymoon.”

He took her hand in his. “No more difficult
than it is for you.” He kissed her fingers, then turned her hand
over to kiss her palm.

She gasped. She’d never thought of her hands
being particularly sensitive, but the touch of his lips sent a
delicious quiver through her body. She undid her seat belt and
scooted closer, wanting more.

“Ah, Kelly,” he murmured huskily. “I don’t
know whether to be glad you light up so well, or be annoyed that
you can’t remember.”

“Be glad. It’s a begin--” She stopped
suddenly. “That Nigel’s car.” It was parked across the street by
some oleander bushes. He could see Lars kissing her wrist.