A Marriage Takes Two Read Free Page B

requested. Not when he didn’t love her.
    She ran her hands over the white tee shirt — soft, comfortable, his. She wished the spicy scent of him still clung to the fabric, but the only aroma belonged to the fabric softener.
    Sleep seemed out of reach. Her thoughts raced. She couldn’t wait until tomorrow. She’d ask for his answer now. She slid to the edge of the bed. Maybe he had decided. She could slip down the hall to his room and demand to know his decision. Waiting was a drag.
    With a sigh, she slumped against the pillows. She had to stay in this room and practice patience. If she appeared at his bedside, he would laugh the way he had years ago when she’d teased him to know what was in every Christmas or birthday present before they were opened.
    What if he refused? Impossible! In all the years she’d known him, he’d never refused a reasonable request. Was a marriage proposal reasonable?  Did she really know Tony today?
    She curled her arms around her knees. He’d changed. His eyes held shadows and his face bore lines. Had the divorce completed what his father’s desertion had begun? Had Tony forgotten how to trust?
    “Don’t go that way,” she whispered. Her future depended on his caring for her, and his trusting she wouldn’t hurt him.
    The reality of what her life would be if he didn’t marry her was drab. Her days would be bound by her mother’s needs and that was only right. Until she’d finished college, her mother worked as a secretary during the day and as a waitress on weekends.
    She would do the same, but the inheritance held a promise she wanted. Until sleep chased them, her thoughts circled the possible scenarios that might take place in the morning.
     
    * * *
     
    The sound of Tony’s deep voice woke her. “Chad, time to be up and at ‘em.”
    The order made her smile and raised an eagerness to see him, an eagerness she had to hide. She sat on the edge of the bed and listened to a sleepy child beg for a few more minutes.
    “Come on, buddy.”
    “Five minutes, please.”
    “On your feet.”
    She scurried to the bathroom that adjoined the guest room. The green silk underwear she’d washed the night before hung on the shower curtain rod. After putting on the wisps of silk, she slid into her jeans and pulled a sweater several shades darker than her bra over her head. Then she finger-combed her hair.
    When she opened the door into the hall, she stifled a sigh. Tony looked better than he had in her dreams. What if he said no?
    “Don’t borrow trouble,” she whispered. She stepped into the hall and caught her first glimpse of Tony’s son. He was his father’s image in miniature. Her thoughts rocketed to her first encounter with Tony — the day he’d become her hero and her best friend.
    The boy stamped his foot. “It’s not fair.”
    “Life often isn’t.”
    Carrie’s breath caught. Tony leaned against the wall. Faded jeans covered his long legs. He wore no shirt. Her gaze focused on the mat of dark hair on his muscular chest. The man was a walking anatomy lesson for the muscular-skeletal system. She itched to explore the lines of his pectorals, intercostals and muscles she’d forgotten how to name.
    “Not fair. It’s not fair.”
    “And who promised it would be?” Tony asked.
    Carrie held in a chuckle. How many times had he said those words to her?
    “Son, just get on with what you have to do.”
    This time, she laughed. Tony and Chad stared at her. The boy’s blue eyes turned hostile, but in Tony’s eyes, she saw memories and promises.
    “Can we do something special tonight?” Chad asked.
    “Count on it.” Tony grinned. “Carrie, come and meet my son.”
    She clutched the promise she’d seen and strode toward them. “You certainly can’t deny he’s yours. He has the Flynn look.”
    Tony winked. “There are times…” He ruffled his son’s dark curls. “Carrie, this is Chad. She’s an old friend.”
    The boy’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t look that