The instant his serious and concern-filled blue gaze locked on hers, a fresh supply of tears welled in her eyes. Damn it, this was supposed to be a happy time. Looking forward to their future together. Not fraught with all this gut-wrenching stress and hair-yanking frustration. She wasn’t naive enough to believe their lives would be sunshine and roses all the time. But surely there shouldn’t always be dark clouds and crabgrass, either.
Without a word he closed and locked the door. Removed his parka and gloves, toed off his boots. Then walked to the bed. Sat next to her. And drew her into his arms.
She went willingly, gladly, savoring his strength, the solid feel of him. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she burrowed her face into her favorite spot-the cozy nook where his neck and shoulder met, a place that usually felt deliciously warm but was now cool from the frigid weather. But one that still smelled delightfully of Eric-clean and masculine and him.
He pressed his lips against her hair and whispered, “You okay?”
Her throat closed, so she nodded. Then shook her head. Then shrugged. How could she explain how she felt when she wasn’t certain herself? The only thing she knew for certain was that she was exhausted.
His arms tightened around her, as if he feared she might otherwise slip away. And a small part of her couldn’t help but wonder if she would.
She wasn’t sure how long they remained that way, holding each other in silence, before she finally lifted her head and leaned back to look at him.
Before she could say a word, he cupped her cheek in his palm and brushed his thumb over her skin. “You’ve been crying.”
She attempted a smile, but knew it was a weak effort. “Oh, great. On top of everything else I’m puffy and blotchy.”
“You’re beautiful. And breaking my heart. I can’t stand to see you cry.”
“You didn’t see it-just the horrifying aftermath. And I didn’t really cry. It was just a case of freakishly leaking eyeballs.”
He didn’t crack even the slightest grin at her feeble attempt at humor. “You want to tell me what happened?”
She blew out a long sigh. “The usual-arguments, nastiness, tension. My mother and Kelley didn’t provide you with the gory details?”
“I didn’t ask for them. Instead I told them in no uncertain terms that I was as sick and tired of this as you were. That I wanted them to go home, leave us alone and not make any attempt to contact us before Tuesday unless there was a true emergency-one that involved hospitals and blood.”
A humorless sound escaped her. “Hopefully Mom won’t take that as an invite to check herself into the hospital for some ailment or another.”
“If she does, ten bucks says Kelley tries to beat her to the punch.”
She rested her hands against his chest, absorbing the thump of his heartbeat through his sweater. “I’m sorry I left like that, but I was just so…ugh. About to start screaming.” She related the painful details of the color and centerpiece and floral arrangements and menu and monogrammed versus not-monogrammed cocktail napkin debates.
“I just kept sipping my wine, praying for it to end,” she said, shaking her head. “And I was doing a damn good job of holding on to my patience until I saw the picture of that wedding gown, a gown, by the way, that my mother has already ordered for me.” She shuddered. “Did you see it?”
“The one that looked like something Little Bo Peep would wear?”
“Yes! Thank you! All I needed was a curved staff and every sheep within a five-hundred-mile radius would flock to me.”
One corner of his mouth twitched. “I think Bo Peep also wore a frilly bonnet. And lacy bloomers that came down to her ankles.”
That dragged a slight smile from her. “Not helping. I told my mother that the only way I would wear that dress would be if she somehow managed to wrangle it onto my dead, lifeless body-and even then I’d probably resuscitate myself long enough to rip it off.”
“And that’s when the fight started?” he deadpanned.
A short huff of laughter escaped her. “Pretty much. Although it hadn’t been particularly pleasant before that.”
He brushed back a strand of her hair that she was sure looked matted and gross. “I’m sorry they came here, sorry I didn’t insist they leave immediately. Sorry they upset you. I guarantee they won’t be bothering us again before Tuesday.”
Right. But what about after Tuesday? The nightmare would just begin again. Even though she’d washed her hands of the wedding arrangements, she knew she hadn’t heard the last of it. And that in no way solved the resentment her family felt toward Eric.
Pushing those unsettling thoughts aside, she asked, “How did things go at the bar with Marc?”
“Better than at the wedding planning table.”
“Not a real high benchmark.”
“No, but I think we actually might have taken a small, tottering step forward. But then again, maybe not. He’s not an easy guy to read.”
“He never has been, especially not the last few months. I think there’s something bothering him.”
“Besides our engagement?”
“Yes, but he won’t talk about it. Which means it must involve a woman.”
“If so, he should watch out for that ‘what goes around comes around’ karma. It would serve him right if her family lived in Marble Falls and took an immediate dislike to him. But I’ve got my own problems without worrying about his.” His expression turned serious and his gaze searched her face. “What you said before you walked out, about maybe not showing up at the church…was that just something that shot out in anger or did you mean it?”
A denial rushed into her throat, but she pressed her lips together to contain it. Because this was too important to simply offer him a placating answer. Because this was one of the reasons they’d come here-to talk about the state of their relationship.
At her hesitation, a muscle ticked in his jaw. “Well, that’s the loudest silence I’ve ever heard.”
“Eric…I-”
Her words cut off when he stood and paced in front of her. Then he turned toward her and dragged his hands down his face. “You’re having second thoughts.”
It wasn’t a question. It was a statement made in a raw, hoarse voice that sounded ripped from his throat.
She rose and framed his face between her hands. “Not about my feelings for you.”
“Just about marrying me.”
“No, but…” She released a long sigh and lowered her hands. “I’ve now reached a whole new level of exhaustion, Eric. Do you know how many arguments we had during the entire six months we dated before getting engaged?”
He considered for several seconds. “No. Other than a few disagreements while figuring out our work situations, did we have any?”
“I can only recall two. Both of them silly misunderstandings, quickly resolved and completely forgettable. The rest of the time, it was…magic.” Yes, romantic evenings filled with conversation and laughter that melted into sultry, sensual nights of discovery and exploration. Ice-skating and walks in the snow when they’d first met last winter had bloomed into springtime hikes and quiet evenings at home. Then summer, with private indoor and outdoor picnics. But then came the end of summer and Eric’s proposal and the start of their current situation.
“I’ve lost count of the number of arguments since our engagement,” she continued quietly. “I feel like I spend all my time fighting. If not with my mother, then with one or more of my brothers, or with you. I like peace. Quiet. Managing Hayden’s is stressful enough-I can’t handle having my personal life fraught with constant turmoil. I’ve never considered myself a quitter, but I’m just so damn tired of fighting.”
He raised her hand to his lips and pressed a quick, hard kiss against her palm. “Then let’s stop fighting.”
“Based on the last four miserable months-which seem to grow more miserable by the day-easier said than done.”