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Authors: Groovy Lee

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BOOK: Invitation to Love
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“Taryn,”
he called to her just as she was about to take the cluttered picnic basket into
the kitchen. He opened his wallet and held something out for her to take.
“Here’s a temporary credit card for you and the girls to buy whatever things
you might need until the permanent one gets here. It has a sizable limit, so
besides toys, food, and clothes, you can purchase whatever you need for the
house, in case you ever decide to redecorate.”

That
teasing laughter was so comforting. Except for the warmth in his eyes whenever
he looks at her, it was the first time today he’s gone beyond a smile. She felt
rather selfish all of a sudden as she looked fixedly at the silver plastic in his
hand. He’s really living up to his end, doing his part as a provider. A credit
card for this, an account for that; All for her and her girls. He’s given her
free reign of his money and his home without asking anything in return.

“Thanks,”
she murmured.

“Well,
if you’ll excuse me, I have some calls to make. Then I’ll probably turn in.
What about you?”

“The
girls and I have been dying to watch that enormous TV in the living room—if
that’s okay with you.”

There’s
that laugh again. Her heart jumped. If it had a tail, it would be wagging
uncontrollably right now.

“Don’t
let it captivate you too much, or you’ll find yourselves still sitting in front
of it this time next week.”

The
laughter between them faded slowly as his eyes gleamed over her face, then
rested on her mouth for a long moment before he said good night and started up.
A rush of shame warmed through her as she stood watching him head for his
room—alone. Since the day they met, he’s done nothing but give of himself.

He practically paid for
everything in Florida. He even proved himself to be a true and valuable ally
when he stood by her side against the Gant clan, and rescued her from a
terrible court battle. And what has she done in return? Nothing, zilch, nada.
He’s not asking a lot of her—Well, only that she moves into his room and be his
wife completely. He said he’d be patient and not look for companionship
elsewhere.  That counts for something—doesn’t  it?

“Michael,”
she said before all good sense fled.

He
turned from mid-way up the stair to look down at her.

She
inhaled for courage. “You’ve done so much for the girls and me—well,” she
swallowed to keep her throat from constricting further. “I—I’m ready to fulfill
my part of the bargain.”

His
eyes widened for a brief second followed by a suspicious glint as he descended
the stairs, one slow step at a time, until he came to the last one. She
swallowed again as he soaked in every curve of her.

“Meaning?”
he finally asked when he was thoroughly finished.

“Meaning,
I can move into your room tonight if you want.”

A
moment of repressed silence hovered as he contemplated her words. And during
that silent moment, every inch of her tingled in anticipation of him whisking
her up in his arms, and carrying her off to his bed. But first, she has to calm
him down long enough for her to put the girls to bed.

“Thanks,
but, no thanks, Taryn.”

Her
heart plummeted. “I—what?”

“I
said no thanks.”

“I
don’t understand.”

“No,
you don’t,” was his firm reply. “This isn’t about bargains. When you come to
me, it has to be because you want to, not because you feel obligated in some
way. The only bargain we made was me helping you keep your girls, and you
getting the tabloids off my back.” His eyes now reproved her from head to toe
before continuing. “I don’t need sexual favors from you.”

She
fell humbled and lowered her eyes to the sparkling marble at her feet. It seems
no matter how hard she tries, her good intentions only serves to aggravate him.
He probably thinks her offer was some kind of a mercy mission. She looked up to
apologize.

“Good-night,”
was his final say, leaving a shameful Taryn alone to deal with the
indescribable twists he’s taking her through.

It’s
not going to be easy, but they’ll eventually come to an understanding—a give
and take. She was grateful he rejected her impromptu proposal, though.
Everything is happening so fast. The idea of sharing his bed, coupled with
nights of making love, still causes tremors. She’s willing, but will she ever
be ready?

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

 

“Remi,
I asked you not to bring that turtle to the table,” Taryn stood at the
breakfast table early Monday morning pouring orange juice into each of the
girls’ glasses, before returning to the counter to prepare Michael’s toast.

“But,
Momma, Mr. Green-Jeans is lonely up there in my room all by himself,” she
picked the tiny reptile up from her lap and held it in her hand to examine.

Taryn
brought the decanter to the table and placed it beside the platter of sliced cantaloupe,
strawberries, and grapes. “Just don’t bring him to the table again.”

“He’s
making me lose my appetite,” Rachel grimaced with disgust, generating a saucy
reply from Remi’s protruding tongue.

“Good-morning,
everyone,” Michael came into the kitchen.

At
once, Taryn’s eyes locked on his entire physique dressed in a black suit with a
pale-yellow shirt and matching paisley tie, his hair brushed to perfection, his
eyes…. “Do you want one or two pieces of toast, Michael?” she wheeled from his
masculine allure and busied herself with the bread.

“I’ll
just have coffee and some of this fruit, Taryn,” he sat down and poured the
dark liquid into his cup. “My ten o’clock conference has been moved up an hour.
If I leave now, I’ll just make it.”

“Michael,
do you work in a tall building?”

“Very
tall,  Remi,” he said between sips.

“How
tall?”

“Oh,
at least four times as tall as this house.”

“Wow.”

“Thanks,
Taryn,” he sat his empty cup down and stood. “Did I mention Chris is bringing a
date tonight?”

“Yes,
you did.”

“Is
there anything you want me to bring home for dinner?”

(Home
for dinner) How those words echoed with endearment; As if they’ve been a family
for a lot longer than four days.

“No,”
she said, feeling an eager spot in her heart from such a secure notion that
this may work.

“Then,
I’ll see all of you tonight.” He paused for a moment, their eyes uniting from
across the room.

Taryn
could only hold his gaze for a few seconds before she smiled briefly and turned
back toward the stove.

“Michael,”
Remi beckoned. “Aren’t you going to kiss Momma good-bye like they do on TV?”

(Oh,
no, she did not just say that) Taryn’s eyes widened, a warm flush sailed from
the top of her head to the pit of her stomach. She held a deep breath for a
second before turning around, a veneer of calm in her features. But, as soon as
she caught sight of him walking across the floor toward her, her strength began
to crumble.

“If
you think I should, Remi. Good-bye, Honey,” he stressed for her sake.

Taryn
braced as he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers in the softest of
caresses. The girls clasped their hands to their mouths and giggled. When it
was over, she could only stand and try her best to breathe normally.

“See
you tonight,” he whispered with a seductive lift to his mouth.

“I’ll
walk you to the car,” Remi jump out of her seat and took his hand.

Taryn
wondered if she should talk to Remi about private and intimate moments. But
what can she say? They’re man and wife. In her eyes, there
should
be
intimate moments of good-bye kisses. She wouldn’t understand a deal. Just then,
Remi came back in and resumed her seat.

“Mummie,
do I have to eat all of these eggs? You put too much on my plate.”

“No,
Rachel, you don’t.”

Remi
guzzled away her orange juice and slapped the empty glass on the table. “If you
don’t want them, I’ll feed them to Mr. Green-Jeans.”

“Turtles
don’t eat eggs.”

“Do,
too.”

“Do,
n…”

An
earsplitting squeal hit the air, followed by a chair scraping against the
floor. Taryn dropped a dish back into the soapy dish water and spun around to
investigate.

“Remi
put her turtle in my plate.”

“Remi
Ayumi Kimble,” Taryn marched over to the table.

“Well,
she didn’t want them.”

“You
take that turtle upstairs and put him back in his aquarium this instant.”

She
popped out of her seat and turned on Rachel who was now hiding behind Taryn.
“Now, look what you did. You got me in trouble.”

“Did,
not.”

“Did,
too.”

Remi
started after Rachel who released another high-pitched scream and took off with
her sister and Mr. Green-Jeans in close pursuit. Taryn stood with her eyes shut
tight, one hand massaging a temple. The day isn’t half way through, and she
already needs to be medicated.

The
girls did nothing but bicker, scuffle, and slam doors well into the afternoon.
After chasing her headache away with a couple of aspirin, she separated them to
their rooms so she could focus on dinner.

The
few days they’ve been married, she’s learned that Michael, though not a
vegetarian, is big on salads and fruit. So, she stood preparing a garden salad
and crab salad as part of tonight’s menu. She was slicing a crisp cucumber into
a bed of bite-sized lettuce and tomatoes when the sound of shattering glass
drew her attention toward the library across the hall.

She
wiped her hands clean, then went to inspect. Just as she reached the doors,
Remi ran right into her.

“Remi,”
she held her by the arms. “What are you doing in there? And, what was that
crash I heard?”

“I
didn’t mean it,” she cried, her eyes wide with panic. “I was just looking
around. I didn’t mean to break it.”

“Break
what?” Taryn half peered inside. “Weren’t you told to stay out of Michael’s
library? It’s not a playroom. Where‘s your sister?”

“She’s
still in her room.”

“Come
and show me what’s broken.” With a firm hand on one shoulder, Taryn guided her
back into the library. Remi pointed passed the cluttered desk to the wooden
stand with the pedestal top positioned in the far corner. On the floor beneath
it lied the glittering fragments of what was once a crystal vase. Taryn closed
her eyes, that stubborn headache was pulsing back to life. Michael had
specifically cautioned the girls to be careful around that vase. She went over
to examine the pieces more carefully.

“I
didn’t mean it.”

“Go
get the broom and shovel.” Taryn bent down and gathered up the big pieces in
her hand. (How is she going to explain this?) Seconds later, Remi was back.
Taryn placed the big pieces in the shovel then swept the small ones into a
pile.

“Momma,
is Michael going to spank me?”

Taryn
looked up from sweeping the rest of the slivers of glass into the shovel to see
puddles swelling in her daughter’s eyes, her bottom lip quivering. “I’ll talk
to him, o.k.? Maybe, I can get him to agree on taking away a privilege. You
know you should be punished for this, don’t you?”

Remi
nodded then clamped her arms around her waist.

Taryn
transferred the shovel to her other hand and hugged her close. No doubt,
Collen’s temper must be revisiting at this moment. It didn’t matter the
cause—spilled milk, too much noise, a toy left in his path—going after them was
his answer for everything. Standing in between them and barring him from
touching the girls only made things worse, but at least they were spared most
of the time. Now, her baby’s afraid that the past will call on her. Hopefully,
this won’t be a matter of contention with Michael; That for now, he’ll leave
the disciplining of the girls to her.

“Come
on,” she nudged her. “Let’s get this cleaned up.”

An
hour later, Taryn was arranging the dinner plates on the dining room table when
the front door opened, and Michael walked in.

“Hi,”
he paused upon seeing her, and changed his direction toward the room. His gaze
sparkled as he examined the dark-blue dress she had changed into. “You look
lovely.”

“Thanks,”
the effects of it had her clutching a plate close to her. She touched at her
hair, hoping he would approve.

“How’s
everything going?”

“Perfect.”

“Good,”
he smiled, causing her smile to uncontrollably widen in return.

“I’m
going to change,” he finally broke the spell. “I won’t be long.”

After
he left, she closed her eyes and dropped her head. “Way to go, Taryn. Why
didn’t you bat your eyes and giggle, too?”

It
was then she remembered Remi, and how she’s been waiting in her room for the
last hour for Michael to come home so she could go to him and confess as Taryn
had advised her. As she went about placing the silverware beside the plates, she
counted the minutes, assessing that by now, Remi should be apologizing; And by
now, she should be able to hear his reaction. She eased from the dining room
and stood silent by the stairs to see if she could hear any crying, or a raised
voice. She finally gave up and went into the kitchen.

BOOK: Invitation to Love
11.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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