The Love List (2 page)

Traffic snarled again, magnifying Grey's
agitation so by the time he got home, the first thing on his mind
was a stiff vodka and tonic. As he pulled into the garage, he could
swear he picked up the faint aroma of his favorite dish,
boeuf
bourguinon
, simmering in the oven. He yanked open the door to
the house and barged through, trying to turn his tight frown into a
smile when he almost bumped into a huge mass of tangled furniture.
His nose was assaulted by the pungent odor of fresh paint.

He turned his head toward the kitchen but
could detect no aroma of anything cooking. Picking his way around
the pile of chairs, lamps and end tables he moved into the living
room.

"Carrie!"

"I don't care what your plans are Enrique,
you can't dump this here now! We had an agreement. Yes, bring the
furniture NEXT Thursday not today!" She was pacing in the living
room, her back to him.

Grey stood tapping his foot on the polished
wood floor, annoyed Carrie didn't notice him.

"We're leaving tomorrow morning! No, I can't.
No. No and that wasn't our agreement. What? You're going where?
When? You knew this all along, didn't you? The other rooms aren't
ready. They have to be painted first. You expect ME to carry that
stuff up the stairs? Well that's too bad! Come back and pick it up!
What?
What
did you say? Same to you, Enrique!"

Carrie slapped her phone closed, color rising
in her face when she turned. She jumped when she saw Grey. Her head
jerked up and her hand flew to her throat.

"Oh my God! I didn't know you were home."

"What is all this?" Grey stretched out his
hand and swept it over the area taken up by the stacked
furniture.

"This is Enrique dropping off my furniture a
week early!" She clicked the pen in her hand on and off, on and
off.

"Crap. Where's dinner?"

"Dinner?" Carrie sucked on her lower lip, her
large, light blue eyes glancing at the pile of furniture blocking
the exit to the garage.

"Yeah, you know that meal we eat at the end
of every day?" He strode into the kitchen and pulled down a tall
glass.

"Oh, dinner. I thought we'd eat out. I've
been struggling all day…"

"You've been struggling! I had a terrible day
following a terrible week," he said, slamming a handful of ice
cubes into the glass, then unscrewing the vodka bottle.

Carrie stood and watched him as he sloshed
vodka into his glass then drowned it with tonic water. He stirred
it with his finger, took a gulp, then noticed the silence and
looked up at her.

"Were you going to offer me one of those?"
Her hand rested on her hip as she shifted her weight.

"You want one?"

"Duh. Why do you think I asked?"

She doesn't have to be so nasty about it.
I'm not a mind reader.

Grey turned to get a spoon to stir her drink
and noticed the bedroom, his bedroom, was torn apart and the bed
was missing.

"What happened? Where's my bed?"

"It's upstairs, against the wall.
Our
bedroom was painted today."

"We have no bed? Dammit!" He slammed his fist
down on the counter.

No dinner. No sex!

Carrie stood stock still, a frown planted on
her lips, and glared at him. She had paint in her hair and on her
jeans. She wore an old shirt of his also plaint splattered and
rolled up at the sleeves. Her silence commanded his attention again
and his eyes roved over her form.

"What happened to you?" He poured an inch of
vodka in the glass, then splashed tonic on top.

"I had a few run-ins with paint today. I
should have stayed out of the room when Ramon was painting but I
needed a few things…did you know rollers spray a fine mist of
paint?"

"I do now." He chuckled in an unkind way as
he squeezed a slice of fresh lime in Carrie's drink then stirred
it.

"It's not funny." She approached the counter
where he was mixing her drink.

"So where am I going to sleep tonight?" He
handed the drink to her then took another gulp of his drink as his
eyes narrowed on her.

"We can set up the bed. It's in the hall. The
room smells like paint but that will go away…it was water-based
paint, so it isn't too strong…"

"I
hate
the smell of paint. I can't
sleep like that! What's your back-up plan?"

"I don't have one." She took a big gulp of
her drink, her eyes studying him over the rim of her glass.

"You don't
have
one? What kind of
planning is that? The house is a wreck. What are we going to do
with this furniture? More rooms have to be painted and we're going
to live in…in…this?" He gestured at the pile and ran his hand
through his hair.

"If you're going to behave like this, then
I'm going to sleep at my house tonight," she said, picking up her
purse off the counter and walking over to the coat tree.

"I don't care where you sleep!" He shouted,
reaching into his pocket and pulling out his keys, then he threw
them in the silver key bowl, cursing when they bounced out onto the
floor.

He bent down to pick up the keys, stopped,
raised his eyes to her face and straightened to face her when he
heard her gasp.

****

Carrie blinked as fast as she could to keep
from crying. Her hand flew to cover her mouth. Speech eluded her as
the rapidly growing lump in her throat seemed to close off all air
to her lungs. She stared at Grey, watching his expression change
from the hardened mask of a minute ago to one of contrition. His
hazel eyes appeared warmer, softer as they gazed at hers. She moved
her right hand over her left, her fingers closed around her diamond
ring and tugged at it.

Great time to have swollen fingers!

His gaze dropped from her eyes to her hand
and he paled as a look of horror swept over his face.

"If you don't care where I sleep then we
shouldn't be engaged," she said, continuing to pull at the
ring.

"No, no, Carrie, don't…" In two long strides,
he crossed the room. He placed his hand over hers, preventing her
from removing the ring. "Don't…please," he whispered.

"Grey, marriage is messy. Shit happens. Plans
go down the toilet. Life gets screwed up. It isn't always going to
be
boeuf bourguinon
and drop-of-the-hat hot sex. I don't
think you're ready to do this…to get married. Our first mess and
look…look what you said…to me…" She couldn't hold it in any longer,
tears cascaded down her face faster than she could wipe them
away.

"I'm sorry, Carrie. Honey…I'm so sorry. I
didn't mean it. Of course I care where you sleep…with me, always
with me, with or without sex. Please, please…don't walk away."

He moved closer to her, putting his hands on
her shoulders.

"Why should I stay?" She stuck out her chin,
placed her hands on her hips and stepped back.

"You're right. I don't know long-term,
committed relationships. I've never had one. But you have. You've
been married. Teach me, guide me…tell me what to do…what to expect.
I need you. I love you. You're my life. Please, please be patient
with me, stay with me."

She looked up at him as he poked his
handkerchief into her fist. Angst showed on his face, wrinkles
deepened at the corners of his eyes, his mouth was set in a grim
line. He raised his brows in a question while his eyes pleaded with
her. His pathetic expression reminded her of the way he'd looked at
Aunt Delia's when he had begged her to marry him. With his light
brown hair falling in his eyes, he reminded her of a large puppy
with his tail between his legs, and her heart lurched. Grey slipped
one arm around her waist and drew her to him. His other arm went
around her shoulders and he tightened his grip.

Carrie melted into his arms, resting her
forehead against his chest and sobbed. He stroked her hair.

"I'm so sorry I hurt you. I love you so much.
Say you'll never leave me, no matter what stupid thing I say or
do."

"That's what vows are for," she sniffled into
his hanky.

"The sooner we take them, the better," he
said, kissing and stroking her shoulder-length hair.

"I love you. You know that, right?" She
asked, leaning back, her head tilted up.

"I don't want to destroy your love by being
an idiot."

He brought his mouth down in a tentative
kiss, barely brushing her lips. She fisted the lapels of his jacket
and pulled him down toward her while she deepened the kiss. His
hands slipped down, cupping her behind, pulling her closer.

After a few moments, she stepped back. He
combed his hair back from his face with his fingers.

"I have an idea. Why don't I make you another
drink to take into a long, hot bath. When you come out, I'll have
some food for us from Googie's down the street. We can eat then
relax in the living room and ignore the furniture here. We're
leaving tomorrow for Pine Grove anyway."

Carrie nodded, "Sounds like a plan."

****

While she went into the bathroom to start the
tub, Grey mixed her drink. She joined him in the kitchen, watching
him stir the potent liquid and started unbuttoning her shirt.

"Our first fight," she sighed, putting her
hand on his arm, looking up into his eyes.

"I guess it was." He bent down and kissed
her.

Grey returned to the drink he was making and
squeezed some lime in the tall glass then looked up when she
approached.

"Right after the bath, lesson number
two…make-up sex." A saucy smile swept over her face.

He noticed her eying his shoulders and desire
grew in his chest.

"Avid student here." A grin spread over his
face.

Carrie slid the shirt off her shoulders and
unbuttoned her jeans. She wasn't wearing a bra and the indirect
lighting gave her breasts a soft, golden glow. Grey's gaze lingered
there.

"Do we have to wait for the bath?" He stopped
what he was doing.

"But I've got paint…"

"So?"

"And the bed…"

"We have the sofa."

"Good thinking," she said, sliding her jeans
down her legs before retreating to the bathroom to turn off the
water.

Grey's gaze switched to the sway of her
rounded hips as she sauntered away from him.

"Food can wait." He murmured before he
unbuttoned his shirt then shrugged it off his shoulders.

"My thinking exactly," she said, rejoining
him before pulling her panties down to the floor, then stepping out
of them.

Their eyes connected.

"You look very sexy when your apologizing,
Mister."

"Come closer and say that again, slowly," he
teased.

Carrie crept closer until her breasts grazed
his chest. He wound one arm around her waist as his other hand
tugged at his belt buckle. After his pants hit the floor, Carrie
took his hand and led him into the living room.

"Lesson two begins now," she said easing down
onto the sofa and gently tugging him after her.

"Homework?"

"Most definitely."

Chapter Two

Carrie sat back against the fine black
leather front seat of the Jaguar XK as Grey maneuvered it
skillfully along the curves of the Palisades Parkway. On the day
before Christmas at seven o'clock in the morning, there was almost
no traffic. Grey depressed the gas pedal, pushing the limits of the
sports car on the winding road. Carrie looked out at the stark
scenery thick with bare trees and bushes. She slipped a Christmas
CD in the slot and turned the sound up. "White Christmas" was the
first song to play.

The ground had a slight dusting of snow
clinging to frozen grass. Carrie expected there would be more snow
in Pine Grove and she smiled at the idea of an old-fashioned white
Christmas with Grey's family.

"About last night…" he ventured, glancing
quickly at her then back at the road.

"I thought we covered that."

"One more thing. I had a difficult week,
aggravating, stupid dumbass accountant and I thought when I got
home…I envisioned your
boeuf bourguinon
and hot sex…"

"At the same time?" She laughed.

He stuck out his lower lip in a momentary
pout.

"You know what I mean. So when everything was
a mess and I was disappointed…"

"What are you trying to say?"

"You had no idea what I was expecting. It
wasn't fair to get mad when my fantasy didn't come true. I never
even told you what I wanted."

"Glad you see it that way."

"Guess I'm apologizing again."

"No need, sweetheart. I get it," she reached
over, rested her palm on his shoulder and smiled up at him.

"Good. Wanted to clear the air."

"Thought we did that on the sofa," she
murmured.

"I guess we did," he said with a snicker,
stealing a sly glance at her.

"…and on the kitchen counter…the stairs…" she
added with a grin.

"How's the rug burn?"

"I'll live," she chuckled. Carrie pulled a
small pad and a pen out of her purse. "I think we should start an
engagement list."

"Engagement list?"

"Like the marriage list you had…but
different." Carrie flipped the pages of the pad until she found a
blank one

"How so?"

"A list of ways to behave with your
lover…spouse…fiancée, whatever."

"Oh, you mean a how-to love list?" Grey gave
a slight nod.

"Good. Yeah. A love list." She clicked the
pen and ran her tongue over her bottom lip.

"I'm game. Go ahead. What's the first
item?"

"First is…hmm…let's see, life is no longer
only about you and what you want."

"The maybe-she-had-a-bad-day-too thing?" He
suggested with a wry grin.

"Yeah and don't assume your lover knows what
you want…can read your mind."

"Got it. Good, good, Carrie, put that down."
He gestured with his hand while she scribbled on the pad.