Kissing in Kansas (3 page)

Avy nodded. "Abby is my sister.  People think we look alike."

"You don't think so?" Samara asked.  The girls were dressed in identical pink dresses with white sashes tied around their waists.  They certainly looked alike to her.

Avy shrugged.  "Maybe a little."

Samara got up and walked around, pulling out the chair next to Abby.  "I like your sister," she said.

Abby nodded.  "She likes you too, Aunt Sami."

"Did you hear everything we said to each other?"

"Yes.  I'm glad you were nice to her.  Avy is having a hard time since Mommy died."

"I know, and that's understandable.  It's hard to lose someone you love."

"Did you ever lose anyone you love?"

Samara nodded.  "My parents died too.  My daddy died while I was in high school.  He had cancer.  My mom died while I was in college."

"It's hard to be an orphan, isn't it?" Abby asked so seriously, Samara had to fight back the tears. 

"It is hard to be an orphan, but you have each other, and Uncle Henry, and now you have me.  We're going to all be happy together."

"I'd like that."

Samara stood walking back to Henry.  "Do they have to stay with Grandma Betty tonight?" she whispered.

He nodded.  "I don't want anyone to suspect that our marriage isn't real, so yes, they need to stay with her tonight.  We'll go get them early tomorrow afternoon.  Betty watches them during the week."

"Is she their maternal grandmother?"

He shook his head.  "No relation.  She just watches them while I work.  They love her and asked if they could call her Grandma Betty.  She's my neighbor."

Samara nodded.  "That will make it easy while I work then."

"What do you do?"

She'd forgotten until that moment that he knew as little about her as she knew about him.  "I'm Dr. Lachele's assistant.  I do a lot of the testing and handle phone calls.  She's going to let me telecommute.  When I first went to her, I thought she'd find me a man in Manhattan, or one who was willing to move there, but she said this would work out fine.  She is going to have to make her own coffee, though."

Henry grinned.  "I'm sure she'll survive."  He found her enjoyable to be around when she wasn't yelling at him or poking him, and the way she'd handled the twins was just perfect.  She would be good for all three of them. 

"What do you do?" she asked.

"I own my own construction company.  We build custom homes."

"Do you travel for work?"  She couldn't imagine there was enough work building custom homes in the small community to keep him busy.

"I go up to seventy miles in any direction, so I cover a pretty wide area, but I'm home every night."  He looked at the girls.  "I did travel quite a bit before the accident, but the girls are the most important things in my life now."

Samara sighed.  She couldn't fault his love for his nieces.

Lachele came up behind her then, her eyes twinkling.  "It's time to cut the cake."

Samara's eyes narrowed.  Had Lachele known he didn't want a real relationship to start with?  If she had known, would she have told her?  Probably not.  She'd talk to her on Monday, when Henry wasn't super-glued to her side.  She looked sideways at him.  That man was more like hot glue.

They cut the cake, and though she wanted to be rude and smash the cake into his face simply because she was angry with him, she didn't.  She fed it to him nicely.

Once that was finished, they mingled, and Henry introduced her to his employees and his friends from the church.  When he introduced her to the pastor, the older man gripped her hand warmly.  "It's so nice to meet you!  You two met in a very unusual way, but I can't say I think it's a problem.  When two Christians meet for the first time at the altar, it bypasses any chance for premarital shenanigans.  I look forward to getting to know you better."

Henry shook the man's hand.  "Thanks, Pastor Jon.  I'm looking forward to your sermon tomorrow."

Pastor Jon shook his head emphatically.  "You two are not going to come to church tomorrow.  You only have one day off before you head back to work.  You need to spend that time getting to know each other."

Henry frowned.  He didn't want to get to know Samara any better.  She was too close to perfect for his tastes.  A shrinking wallflower never would have worked for him, because he'd have run all over her.  No, Samara was his ideal woman in every way, from her looks to her personality.  Getting to know her better would be a huge mistake and one he didn't plan on making.  Maybe he could talk her into going to a movie that evening.

Lachele stepped up behind Samara.  "It's time for you two to head out," she said softly.  "No one can politely leave until you do."

Samara nodded, hugging Lachele tightly.  "I'm going to miss seeing you at work every day."

"It's not like you've seen the last of me.  I'll be here again to check up on you and make sure Henry is treating you right."

Henry took her elbow guiding her back to the Bride's room.  "Do you need to grab anything before we go?"

"Yeah, there are a couple of things I need.  Purse and suitcases."

"You grab the purse and I'll get the suitcases," he told her.

"Too manly to touch a purse?  Would it make your goobies dry up and fall off?"

Henry stopped walking and turned, giving her a look of disbelief.  "My goobies?  Really?"

She shrugged.  "That's what my brother always called his."

"Your brother is weird."

"I've been telling him that for years."

Wayne stood in the doorway.  "Why am I weird?"

Samara rushed across the room to him, hugging him.  "When do you head home?"

"Tomorrow morning."  Wayne looked at Henry over the top of her head.  "You'd better treat my sister right.  I don't want to have to cut your goobies off and hang them from the nearest tree."

As soon as he said the word goobies, Henry and Samara exchanged a look, before dissolving into laughter.  Wayne rolled his eyes. "You two met just a couple of hours ago, and you already have inside jokes?"  He looked at Samara.  "You're on your own, Sami.  You two were made for each other."

Samara met Henry's eyes.  "That's what Lachele tells me.  I guess time will tell."

She picked up her purse from the floor, all laughter forgotten at her brother's words.  Even if they were made for each other, Henry was going to keep them apart.  It was obvious. 

Wayne watched his sister with a wary look in his eyes.  "You okay, Sami?"

Samara put on her brightest smile.  No one knew her quite like Wayne did.  "I'm fine.  Thanks again for coming all this way to give me away.  I'm going to miss you like crazy."

Wayne smiled.  "I'm already making plans to come out here for Christmas."

Samara grinned.  "I'm so glad!"

"Oh, don't get so excited!  I just want to eat your cooking."

Samara laughed, knowing better.  "You always say that, but I know you're really going to come here to see me.  And the girls, of course.  Are you looking forward to playing uncle to those gorgeous girls?"

Wayne nodded.  "I'm already thinking about what noisy presents I can get them.  Something that will make it impossible for you to read."

Samara slapped his arm as they walked out of the church together, Henry walking a few steps behind.  "No one gets to keep me from my reading!"

Wayne looked over his shoulder at Henry.  "Just watch her when she's trying to read while cooking."

"Does she burn things?" Henry asked, looking genuinely interested in Wayne's answer.

"Yup.  She burns Samara."  When they got to the parking lot, Wayne stopped at a car.  "This is my rental."

Samara hugged her brother again, resting her head on his shoulder for a moment.  "It's going to be strange not to be able to just call you up and invite you for supper."

"Who's going to feed me?" Wayne asked.

"I guess you'll have to have Dr. Lachele find you a girl so she can feed you and you can stop relying on me so much."

Wayne sighed.  "Guess so."

Samara stood with Henry as Wayne drove off.  She brushed the tear from her eye.  "I'm really going to miss that idiot."

Henry shook his head.  He couldn't figure out what to think of his wife.

Chapter Three

Henry led Samara to his truck, throwing her suitcase into the backseat. Samara frowned at the huge step up.  It wouldn't have normally bothered her but her dress had such a full skirt she felt strangely exposed climbing inside.

"How far from here do you live?" she asked quietly, wondering about her new life.

"It's about a five minute drive."  As he drove through the quiet streets of Teaville, Kansas, he pointed out interesting places.  He showed her where he usually shopped for groceries, all the gas stations, and even where he'd gone to school. 

He pulled up in front of a large, two story house that looked as if it had been built in the last year or so.  "Did you build it?" she asked.

"Yeah.  My men and I did.  It took us forever, because we had to do it around the for-pay work."  Henry looked at his house critically, trying to see it as if for the first time.  He couldn't help but wonder what she'd think.

"Did you do the designs yourself?  Or do you just build them?"  She opened the door and slid to the ground. 

"Some of each.  I work with an architect who makes my designs viable."  He snagged her suitcases from the back, wondering what she had in there.  It was a lot heavier than it should have been, even for a suitcase of that size.  "You have rocks in this thing?"

"Of course not.  I have books.  There are only about fifteen that I really didn't want to be without, and didn't trust to the postal service.  I usually read on my Kindle."

"Are you serious?  You brought fifteen books?  It's not going to take that long for your boxes to arrive, is it?"

"Not at all.  Those are my favorite autographed books, though.  I can't trust those to just anyone.  I had to bring them myself." 

He looked at her as if she'd lost her mind, but said nothing, walking to the front door and opening it.  He put her suitcase by the front door.  "Want the tour now, or later?"

"Oh, definitely now."  She rubbed her stomach.  "I'm hungry.  I hope you have something for me to cook."

"I was thinking we could go to a movie tonight.  There's a theater close by that does the dinner and a movie thing."  He thought about that for a moment.  Maybe it would be better if they did the two separately.  They'd have less time alone that way.  He didn't need to be tempted by her.  "Or we could go to dinner and then a movie?  Would you prefer that?"

"No, combined works for me."  She walked into the kitchen since he made no move to start her tour.  It was a huge gourmet kitchen with a big island in the middle.  One side was obviously meant for cooking and the other had four barstools pushed up to it.  There was a booth in front of the kitchen windows, and it looked like a cozy place to eat.

The appliances were all stainless steel, with a double oven and a microwave built in.  "I could fall in love with this kitchen!"  She could just picture herself standing at the counter cooking, her Kindle in one hand, the other mixing something in a bowl. 

He smiled.  "I'm glad."  He led her from the kitchen into a huge dining room, with a formal table.  "We don't eat in here often, and I probably wouldn't have chosen to have a formal dining room if I'd known the twins would be coming to live with me."

"I can't picture our girls eating in here."

His eyes jerked to her face when she said 'our girls.'  Had she really accepted them so quickly?  "No, we'll do holiday meals in here, but mostly we just eat at the booth in the kitchen."

"I think that makes a lot of sense.  There's no reason to force the girls to be uncomfortable."  Samara kept walking through to a large den.  It had comfortable looking furniture and two miniature recliners.  "I bet the girls adore those!"

He nodded.  "We watch television in here in the evenings a lot.  I should interact with them more, but I'm always dead on my feet by the time I get in from work.  My hours are long and hard."

Samara nodded, making a mental note of that fact as she kept going in the circle through the first floor of the house.  There was a formal living room next, and she wrinkled her nose.  The furniture was all white, and she couldn't imagine the girls in there at all.  "Don't tell me.  You wouldn't have set this up this way if you'd known the twins were coming."

"Nay.  I wouldn't have."

The last room was more of a mess than anything else.  It had a desk that was covered with blueprints and other papers, a computer, and a phone.  There was a fax machine and a printer off to one side.  She hoped that wasn't where he planned for her to work.  It was obviously his space, and she didn't want to have to share with him.  "Is there another room I can use for an office?"

He nodded.  "Dr. Lachele warned me you'd need an office, so I readied a room for you upstairs."  He grabbed her suitcase before taking the stairs two at a time.  When he'd reached the top, he turned and watched her climbing the stairs, her dress held up slightly so she wouldn't step on it.  She reminded him of Cinderella climbing the stairs to the ball.  He wished he could take a video of her ascension so he could take it out and watch it many times in the future.

He shook his head. 
Nay!  I canna think of her that way!

He moved out of the way as she reached the top of the stairs, setting her suitcase just inside the master bedroom, which was off to the left.  He took her to the right.  "This is the girls' room.  I gave them the choice of having their own rooms, but they wanted to sleep together." 

Samara popped her head inside the room, noting that neither of the two white beds had been made.  Everything that was there was "twinned."  There were identical white dressers, identical baby doll cradles, and the beds were identical with matching pink bedspreads.  She wondered if the girls liked to have everything the same or if they'd like to assert their individuality.  They'd certainly have the right to do that with her.

The next room was a small office.  It had everything the downstairs office had except the fax machine.  "I hope you'll be okay with going downstairs to fax."

Samara nodded.  "I rarely do any faxing."  She walked into the room, running her hand over the desktop computer.  "This is going to work well for me.  Thank you for having it ready."

"Dr. Lachele said you'd need it.  I didn't realize you worked for her at the time, but I'm glad it's what you want."

He waited for her to walk out of the room and took her to two spare bedrooms.  Each had a king bed, perfectly made up.  "Do you want me to just take one of the spare rooms?" she asked.

He shook his head.  "I want the twins to think that we're in love, just like their mommy and daddy were."

She sighed.  "All right."  She thought he'd lost his mind, but she didn't say it.  He really expected two people, who were obviously attracted to each other, to share a bed with nothing happening?  She had a feeling he was in for a big surprise.  She couldn't promise she wouldn't wake him up demanding her marital rights.

He led her back down the hall toward the master bedroom.  He pointed out two bathrooms along the way.  "Guest bath.  Girls' bath."  Finally he reached his bedroom, the room that he was proudest of in the entire house, and stepped aside for her to precede him.

Samara walked into the room and smiled.  First off, it was the biggest bedroom she'd ever been in.  Her entire apartment in Manhattan would have fit into his bedroom.  The bed was king sized, and the headboard was covered with shelves.  There was an armchair in one corner of the room, and a small table beside it.  Everywhere she looked, she saw a place to read. 

She walked into the bathroom and gaped.  The tub was huge, definitely big enough for two, and she blushed at where her thoughts led her.  She could see the jets in it.  There was a separate shower, and the toilet had a door, so she could take a bath while he used the bathroom, and she didn't have to listen to him.  His and hers sinks were in front of a huge mirror.  She could get used to this place.

She opened a door off the bathroom, and her eyes grew even wider.  It was a huge closet.  Her mind turned the closet into a reading room, but she shook her head.  Her bedroom would be a perfect reading room.  There was a built in chest of drawers at the back of the closet, and each side had ample room for hanging clothes and shelves from floor to ceiling. 

She stopped as she looked at something on the opposite wall of the chest of drawers.  "What's this?"

He grinned.  "As a wedding gift, I made you a shoe rack.  All women love shoes, right?"

Samara looked at it more closely.  There was room for at least forty pairs of shoes there.  She shook her head.  "I only own four pairs of shoes."

"Four?" he asked, surprised.  "Why do you only own four pairs of shoes?"

"That's all I need.  All my spare money goes into books."

She looked back at the rack.  "I know!  I can put my shoes in the bottom four holes, and I'll put my books in the others!  I can sort them by author.  It's perfect!"  She threw her arms around him without thinking.  "Thank you!"  She stood on tiptoe and kissed him, before whirling away and looking at her gift again.  He hadn't meant to give her a bookshelf, but it was perfect for what she needed anyway.

Henry stood watching her, not sure how to react to the kiss at all.  Surely she wasn't really so excited about a bookshelf that was meant to be a shoe rack.

She rushed out to the hall and pulled her big suitcase into the bedroom.  When she started to try to lift it onto the bed, he lifted it for her.  It was too heavy for a woman to be lifting in his opinion.

She opened it wide, pulling out the books she'd considered too precious to ship, vaguely wondering how he'd react when the twelve boxes of books she hadn't considered too precious to ship arrived.  She carried four of the books to the shelf and lined them up on the top row, a smile lighting her face.  "Look!  They fit perfectly.  If the squares were just an inch shorter the books wouldn't fit at all."

He shook his head at her.  "I'm going to change for the movie and check times while you play with your books."

Samara nodded, already lost in putting her things away.  When she pulled out the nightgown she'd purchased for their wedding night, she started to ball it up and stuff it in the bottom drawer, but instead she held it to her.  It was soft pink with spaghetti straps, satin, and form fitting.  She grinned.  She'd wear it that night anyway.  He may think he was in charge of everything, but she had every right in the world to wear sexy things for her new husband on her wedding night.

She pulled jeans and a sweatshirt from the suitcase, changing in the closet.  She thought for a moment about pretending she couldn't reach the zipper on the back of her wedding dress, but she'd never done coy well.  No, she'd be right in his face with what she wanted and needed.  No need to start her marriage off with silly deceptions.

When she was dressed, she hung up her wedding dress carefully.  She'd felt like a princess wearing it, but she had never been a girly girl.  It was time to get back to being Samara and not royalty.  As the thought crossed her mind, she wished she'd thought to get a tiara for the wedding, but things had been too rushed.  No matter.  She'd still wear one whenever she wanted.

She stepped out into the bedroom from the closet and found Henry sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at one of the books she'd unpacked.  "You read romance?" he asked, his voice full of scorn.

Samara sat down beside him on the bed, touching him from shoulder to knee.  "I do.  Do you want to know why I read romance?"

"Why?"

"Because romance books ensure something that no other genre does, something that is missing all too often from our lives today.  Romance novels ensure a happily ever after.  I can and do read other books, but when I want a true escape?  A world where I know the boy will get the girl, and the girl will love being gotten, I read a romance.  I read romance because I believe there's good in this world, and I refuse to think the way we see things is the only way it could ever be.  I read romance, because romance is worth reading, and I dare you to tell me it's not."

Henry stared at her for a moment, realizing he'd hit a nerve.  "I don't think less of you for reading a romance—"

"Yes, you do.  I see it in your eyes.  Let me tell you something, Henry Crider, some of the most intelligent women I know read and write romance.  Even some men read it, and if you ever want to be able to treat a woman right?  I suggest you make a study of it!"  She got up and went into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. 

One of her pet peeves was the way people made fun of romance.  They acted like it wasn't
real
literature.  Romance books were the bread and butter of every publishing company, and if that didn't make them real, she didn't know what did.

Henry stared at the closed bathroom door, wondering if she'd just closed it because she had to get away from him.  He looked down at the book in his hand and sighed.  He never should have acted like her choice of books wasn't good enough.  Being a husband was a lot harder than it looked.

He put the rest of her books in the closet on the shoe rack, knowing he wasn't organizing them the way she would, but at least she wouldn't have to carry them herself.  Moving her suitcase into the closet as well, he touched her wedding dress with one hand.  Samara had taken his breath away when she'd walked down the aisle toward him, and he could honestly say, he'd been running scared since.