Three Brides, No Groom (12 page)

“We’re going to have magnificent grandchildren, sweetheart.
With her looks and athletic abilities and Clark’s brains—what a
combination.”

Carol could feel her face growing hotter by the moment.

Clark stopped her on the stairs. “We better let them know we’re
coming,” he said.

Chapter 4

W
hen Carol booked her airline tickets to
spend Christmas with her parents, her spirits lifted considerably. Spending the
holidays with her family and all that was familiar was sure to ease the
disappointments and frustrations of the past year. She had been away from those
she loved for far too long.

On a Tuesday a couple of weeks before Christmas, she sat in the
Softline cafeteria finishing the last of her lunch. But her mind wasn’t on her
chicken-salad sandwich. It was on her two older brothers and their families.
Both Jeff and Jerry were married and had children of their own. She enjoyed
being an auntie to her two nieces and her nephew. And although she dearly loved
Seattle, it would be good to be home again.

Sipping the last of her tea, she was about to return to work
when Mrs. Derby, Clark’s secretary, approached her.

The older woman greeted her with a rare display of warmth. Mrs.
Derby wasn’t the chatty friendly sort. What made her such an excellent assistant
was her dedication to duty. And to Clark.

Carol returned her greeting, and for a moment, an irrational
fear took hold that somehow Mrs. Derby had unearthed a soy-sauce stain on her
desk. She smiled when she realized how ridiculous she was being. Clark would
have covered for her.

Her thoughts brightened at the thought of him. They saw each
other on a fairly regular basis these days. They’d come to rely on each other,
although she recognized that she derived far more from the relationship than he
did.

In her own way she’d tried to thank him for being her friend.
She’d helped him Christmas-shop for his parents and Mrs. Derby, and he’d done
the same for her. They never did make it to the ballroom dancing classes. The
one evening he was free to accompany her, he had arrived, looking tired and worn
to a frazzle. He’d wanted to know how much it would cost him to get out of it.
She had laughed, hugged him, and let him off easy with pizza in front of the
television.

It surprised her how often they laughed together. A few months
earlier she never would have guessed that he had such a wonderful wry sense of
humor. She appreciated his wit and wondered how it was that no one else had
recognized it during their four years of college.

Clark helped her in other ways, too. He diverted her from
obsessing about Eddie. Thoughts of him didn’t plague her as they once had. She
was no longer in a state of constant anticipation, metaphorically sitting on the
edge of her seat, waiting for him to phone, to knock at her front door. He
hadn’t and he wouldn’t. She knew that now. But her life had ceased to feel so
empty without him.

They saw each other once, sometimes twice, a week, but always
on a casual basis. She didn’t consider their outings dates. They were friends.
Good friends. Nothing less, nothing more, nothing else. And she absolutely did
not
let herself think about what they’d heard
his parents saying on Thanksgiving.

She looked at Mrs. Derby, who was waiting as if uncertain she
was doing the right thing. At last the woman spoke.

“I suppose you’ve noticed how late Mr. Rusbach sometimes
works,” she said.

“Yes.”

“He’s here all hours of the day and night!” Mrs. Derby blurted,
and the outer rims of her ears turned crimson.

“I wondered…” Carol admitted, frowning. Clark
had
seemed overly preoccupied of late.

“He needs to take better care of himself.” This last part was
almost whispered. Mrs. Derby would rather die than be accused of unprofessional
behavior. In her mind, discussing her employer’s work habits bordered on conduct
unbecoming. “He’ll listen to you,” she went on, glancing over her shoulder to
make sure no one could hear.

“So you want me to…” Carol trailed off, uncertain.

“You see, Mr. Rusbach forgets about the time.”

That sounded like Clark, all right. The man was a computer
genius, but time seemed to have no meaning for him.

“You’ll come, won’t you?” the other woman gently pleaded. “I
don’t mean every night, just some nights.” She paused, looking flustered. “Like
tonight.”

Carol hesitated, still wondering exactly what it was Mrs. Derby
wanted. “Are you saying you want me to tell Clark it’s quitting time?”

“If you wouldn’t mind. I worry about him. The nights he’s
meeting you, he can’t get out of here fast enough. You make him happy, and I can
see he makes you happy, too. I don’t mind telling you how pleased I am with the
way things are developing between you two. Lots of young women these days let
their heads be turned by men with more brawn than brains.” She pursed her lips,
revealing her disapproval.

Apparently now wouldn’t be a good time to mention that she and
Clark were only friends.

“I’ve tried talking to him,” Mrs. Derby said with resignation.
“Some of the other staff members have, as well. He listens, or at least it
appears he listens. But he never actually changes his behavior. This morning I
arrived for work and discovered Mr. Rusbach hadn’t gone home.”

“You mean he stayed the entire night?”

Mrs. Derby nodded, then worried her lower lip as if she
regretted having said so much.

“I doubt I’ll be much help. I—”

“Oh, but you will be,” Mrs. Derby insisted.

Carol had trouble believing it, but she said “All right”
anyway. She might not possess an IQ as high as Clark’s, but she knew better than
to get on the wrong side of Mrs. Derby.

* * *

At five-thirty, as promised, Carol arrived at Clark’s
office. Mrs. Derby, who was cleaning off her desk for the night, glanced up and
shared a conspiratorial smile with her.

“Everyone else has left for the night,” she whispered.

“Go on home, Mrs. Derby,” Carol said. “I’ll make sure Clark
leaves at a decent hour.”

The other woman beamed. “I know you will.”

Carol wasn’t convinced she had as much influence on Clark as
Mrs. Derby believed. He revealed all the signs of a workaholic; even his mother
had said so during Thanksgiving dinner two weeks earlier. It would take a lot
more than a gentle prod to distract him from his mission.

Right now he was sitting in front of a computer, fully involved
with whatever he was doing.

“Clark,” she said softly from behind him.

He glanced over his shoulder, and when he saw her, he frowned.
“What are you doing here?” Not exactly the warmest of greetings.

It was all she could do to keep from glancing over her own
shoulder and asking Mrs. Derby for the answer. As it was, she caught sight of
the older woman giving her an I-told-you-so look on her way out the door.

“It’s quitting time,” she said.

“I know.” He returned his attention to the monitor. “Had we
planned to meet?”

“No…not really.”

He glanced up at her. “Is everything all right?”

She faltered, unsure how to respond. This wasn’t going
well.

“Carol?”

“Everything’s wonderful,” she said too quickly. She had his
full attention now, when she was least prepared to deal with it.

He studied her, then blinked. In that split second she realized
what must have been behind Mrs. Derby’s concern. Something must have gone wrong
with the software. Without leaking delicate information, the woman had been
attempting to tell her that something was wrong without letting on exactly what
it was.

In his effort to discover the solution, Clark had driven
himself to the point of exhaustion. He desperately needed a break. Then and only
then would his mind relax enough to release the solution. And there was one.
Carol believed that with all her being. For every negative there was a positive,
for every push a pull. She’d seen it happen time and time again.

He undoubtedly knew that, too, but being the intense individual
he was, he didn’t have the patience to wait for the answer to reveal itself. He
wanted a solution, and he wanted it now.

“How about dinner?” she asked, saying the first thing that
popped into her head.

“You buying?” he joked.

“No, cooking.” She had carefully budgeted every penny over the
holidays, and she had no choice. She mentally reviewed the contents of her
cupboards, and she groaned inwardly while plastering a smile on her face. She
had no clue what she could possibly prepare that didn’t come out of a can.

“You cook?”

“I’ve been known to,” she said.

“What’s the occasion?”

“Nothing special. I guess I just don’t want to be alone
tonight.” She lowered her eyelashes for fear he would see through her scheme to
drag him away from the office.

Perhaps he wanted to believe her. She didn’t know, but before
she realized it, he’d turned off the computer.

“I’ll need to come back,” he said.

“Tonight? Here?”

He looked at her as though he had no clue what she was
asking.

“You’re coming back to work after dinner?” she elaborated.

He didn’t hesitate. “Probably.”

She restrained herself from chastising him. He wouldn’t listen,
and she doubted it would do any good. If anything, it might put a strain on
their friendship, and she certainly didn’t want to do that.

She needn’t have worried. When they got to her house, he sat in
front of the television while she sorted through her cupboards in a futile
attempt to scrounge up an appetizing meal. While deciding between tuna casserole
and boxed macaroni-and-cheese, she glanced into the living room. Clark was sound
asleep on the couch. Obviously her company was less scintillating than she
wanted to believe. If Mrs. Derby hadn’t clued her in to his exhaustion, she
might have been insulted.

Retrieving the afghan her mother had crocheted for her, she
carefully placed it over him. He roused briefly, his eyes fluttering open, when
she removed his shoes, but she could see it was too much of a struggle for him
to stay awake.

“Rest,” she whispered, and smoothed the hair from his brow. The
idea of kissing him came out of nowhere. Without stopping to gauge the wisdom of
giving in to the impulse, she bent forward and gently pressed her lips to
his.

The kiss was sweet, simple and wonderful. Her heart swelled
with tenderness. He’d been such a good friend. She smiled, remembering their
adventures while Christmas shopping and how they’d laughed over a delicate lacy
nightie he claimed he was considering for Mrs. Derby. Then he suggested maybe he
should purchase it for her and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

She straightened, then dimmed the lights. She couldn’t seem to
leave him alone and checked to be sure he was comfortable a number of times. She
tucked the blanket more securely around his shoulders and ran her hand lightly
over his brow. The urge to kiss him again was strong, stronger than it should
have been. It worried her a little, though surely the feeling came only from an
appreciation of everything he’d done for her. Nothing more.

Suddenly she wasn’t so sure of that.

What Mrs. Derby had said disturbed her. She had mentioned how
pleased she was with the way things were developing between them. At the time
Carol had been tempted to ask
what
things, but she’d
stopped herself. Perhaps she’d been afraid of the answer. Then there was that
time, ages ago, when she’d challenged Clark to name someone better suited to her
than Eddie, and he had suggested himself.

It had been a joke, right? Ego alone had prompted that. But
then she thought about how his parents seemed to believe she and Clark were a
match. He’d never mentioned what they’d overheard his parents say, and she had
assumed that was because he wanted to spare her any embarrassment.

All right, so maybe a case could be built that Clark was at
least a little bit in love with her. But she didn’t want to believe that,
because then she would be forced to confront her own feelings for
him
.

She liked him so much. She didn’t know what she would have done
without him all these months. He’d helped her through the most difficult time of
her life with warmth, understanding, compassion and humor.

She sat down and braced her elbows on her knees as she studied
his sleeping face. His features had relaxed, and the shadows under his eyes were
gone, along with the worry lines that normally marked his forehead.

Her chin resting in her hands, she mulled over her feelings for
Clark. Did she love him? And if so, why was it so important that she deal with
the feeling now? He was by far the best friend she’d ever had, and it was common
knowledge that friends often made the best lovers.

What about Eddie? Yes, he was a creep, and he’d hurt her
terribly, but she wasn’t convinced she knew how
not
to love him. She knew it was over, but he’d been a big part of her life for so
long.

The phone pealed, and she leaped to her feet, not wanting Clark
to wake up. Grabbing the cordless, she pressed it to her ear. “Hello,” she
whispered fiercely into the receiver, annoyed with the caller’s timing.

“Carol, is that you?”

“Eddie?” His name rushed from her lips. Her knees felt as if
they were about to give out. Bracing her back against the wall, she slid to a
sitting position on the floor. For months she’d dreamed about this, been
consumed by it. And now that he’d phoned, it didn’t seem possible. She feared it
was a hoax. That someone somewhere was playing a cruel joke on her. But it
sounded like Eddie.

“Is it really you?” she asked, afraid to believe what her heart
and head were telling her.

“How’s it going, sweetheart?” he asked, as cheerful as a
five-year-old.

“Good,” she responded, without thinking. “How about you?”

“Fabulous. Fabulous.”

She yearned to kiss him senseless, and in the same breath, the
same heartbeat, she wanted to scratch his eyes out. How narrow the line between
love and hate could be. Now that he’d phoned after all these lonely months, how
quickly she was willing to forgive him.