Created In Fire (Art of Love Series) (29 page)

Other than that, Carrie was right as rain.

“I’m okay,” she said, going for a smile that never quite made it to her mouth.

Ignoring her flat expression, Michael’s gaze dropped to his chest.

“Were the shirts too much?” he asked, blatantly issuing an invitation for snide comments.

“No. The T-shirts are fine. Cute—I guess,” Carrie answered, reaching for her ice water.

“
Cute?
Carrie, what in hell is wrong with you?” Michael demanded. “I bought these knowing full well you’d hate them. Why are you being so—
nice
?”

Carrie snorted. “Nice? Why? You don’t like nice, Michael? I figured you’d consider it a blessing that I’m being so cooperative.”

“Not enjoying it as much as I thought I would,” Michael said, relieved to finally see a grin. “I’d rather have a bossy and argumentative bride. Then I’d have some idea if you were going to faint walking down the aisle tomorrow or just run the first chance you get.”

“I said I’d go through with our marriage, Michael,” Carrie said, studying her hands.

“That doesn’t mean you have be stoic about the situation if it bothers you,” Michael told her. “I know these are not ideal circumstances, but I am trying to make this easy and painless. I knew
fun
was a little much to hope for, but I guess I hoped it wasn’t going to add to your stress.”

For the briefest of moments, she considered telling Michael about resigning her job. But if she did, what reason could she give? Did she want to admit that it was because she was tired of running into women he’d dated where she worked? That she was tired of seeing emotions ranging from loathing to longing on faces around every turn? No amount of regret from him could change the past. That was for certain.

Leaving and giving herself a fresh start was the only reasonable action to take to fix her stress level, and this afternoon her therapist had agreed. She hadn’t told Michael about the therapist either. She didn’t want him to think it was because of him.

“I appreciate all you’ve done to take care of the wedding preparations. My parents are pleased. I know you can’t tell, but I can. I won’t let you down tomorrow,” Carrie said, pushing back her chair. “I need to run to the restroom. Don’t worry so much about me, Michael. I’m hanging in there.”

Carrie patted Michael’s shoulder and walked quickly away.

Michael stared at her back until she disappeared.

Shane and Brooke had been in deep discussion about the various kinds of wedding rituals in the world until they heard Michael heave a deep sigh.

“Carrie okay?” Shane asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Michael answered tightly, unable to filter out all the sarcasm.

“Maybe she’s having cold feet,” Brooke said. “I hear that happens to everyone before they get married.”

Michael shook his head. “Not going to happen to me, but I can understand why Carrie would be nervous. It would probably help if she vented some of her stress.”

He stood and headed out to find the manager to tell them they were about finished.

“Why does Michael act like he doesn’t know Carrie loves him?” Brooke asked.

“Because he doesn’t know,” Shane answered. “They both think they’re getting married because of the baby and for no other reason.”

Brooke laughed and shook her head. “That baby has nothing to do with the sexy code they were swapping yesterday, unless you count it being an indirect result of that electrical connection they have. Speaking as an unbiased witness, those two crackle and sizzle so much that it makes me want to go back to hunting for a guy to make me do that.”

Shane nodded. “They both have the same fixed idea in their head about how their relationship is and isn’t working out. Yet we’ve all watched them fall more in love in the last few weeks. You should have seen them when she first came. She was sleeping in the master bedroom alone and Michael was being eerily calm.”

Brooke laughed. “I could tell Michael was totally in love yesterday when I met him. He only flirted with me like two minutes. I usually get more of a reaction out of men.”

Shane leaned out of his chair pretending to take in her entire appearance. “I can see why that happens. If I wasn’t in love myself, I’d flirt with you.”

Brooke laughed. “Yeah, you would, but you’re not my type. Sorry. Michael could be, but I don’t poach, and I like Carrie.”

Shane frowned. Maybe red-heads really were immune to him like Michael had once teased. “Not that I care, but will you tell me
why
I’m not your type—for future reference?”

Brooke smiled at the wounded ego in his voice and held his gaze. Shane was a sweetie, but she could see the mental control freak simmering just under the surface of that charm of his. Guarding against mental manipulation was not for her. It would be like living with a clone of herself.

“Well, I’d rather have a good-looking brother than a guy for one night who would be wishing I was someone else anyway,” Brook said lightly.

Shane smiled back genuinely. “You’re just as charming as your mother.”

“Now that may be the nicest compliment I’ve ever had,” Brooke replied. “Are you going to call her
Mom
? Please do. Make sure I’m around so I can watch her face.”

Shane laughed. “Last time I did that, Jessica threatened to tell my real mother on me.”

Brooke laughed. “Sounds like Mom. Just know that the more she teases you, the more she likes you.”

“God, Jessica must love me then. I catch hell all the time,” Shane said, mouth twisted into a grin once more.

“Ellen—your real mother—is nice, too. I just get worried that I might mess her up if I get too close. How do you ever hug her?” Brook asked, thinking her mother’s lack of vanity was a much better trait to emulate than perfection.

“Mom is not as proper as she seems. What did you think of my stepfather Luke? He’s a lawyer. I heard that you like
his
type,” Shane said, teasing. “He has a brother who’s still single.”

“Mom told you that, right? Thanks, but no thanks, damn it anyway. No more lawyers. I’m a reformed woman,” Brooke said, laughing. “I’m going to look for a young history teacher with high ideals.”

“Great. Dad could probably hook you up,” Shane said, making Brooke laugh. “But just in case, you need to rub my elbow. I’ll share my love karma with you.”

They were laughing and rubbing elbows when Michael came back to the table. He looked at them laughing and smiling.

“Great,” Michael said, rolling his eyes. “As if a male weirdo in the family wasn’t enough, now we’ve got a female version.”

“Says the man so in touch with his feminine side that his hair is longer than most women’s,” Brooke pointed out, crossing her arms and giving Michael a withering look. “For your information, Shane was sharing his love karma with me.”

“Well, be careful letting Shane help you,” Carrie said, walking around Michael to put herself across from a laughing Brooke, whom she found both very appealing and worth siding with in this debate. “I don’t think his love karma is working the way it’s supposed to right now. It’s malfunctioning. He lost the love of his life.”

Shane sighed. “Just wait. You will be amazed when I find her,” he told them.

“If that happens, I’ll rub elbows with you too,” Carrie said. “You got any get rich karma going on? I’d kiss your feet for some of that.”

Shane shook his head. “Not yet—but my focus hasn’t been on making money.”

“It hasn’t been on love either, but you ended up in love with a mystery woman anyway,” Michael told him, wondering why Carrie needed love karma when she had him.

“What is less committing than a person saying
not yet
?” Shane argued.

“Saying nothing,” Carrie said firmly, forgetting they were just joking about nonsensical things. “It’s less committing to say nothing at all.”

Looking at Carrie, who was not telling him anything about how she really felt about their wedding, Michael had to agree.

Chapter 20

At six o’clock Saturday evening, wearing the most beautiful wedding dress in the world, Carrie stood in a side vestibule of the church Ellen had chosen, shielded from all eyes except her maid of honor’s and her father’s.

She looked down at the sheer lace covering her recently ample breasts being lifted by a hidden bra that was forcing her cleavage to take center stage. Carrie felt sympathy for her bound body and promised her breasts freedom at the first opportunity.

However tight the bodice was, the rest of the dress molded to her trim dimensions as if it had been specifically made just for her. There had been a perfectly fine light blue formal dress in her closet that would have worked fine for a simple church ceremony, but Michael’s mother had insisted
this dress
was the one she had to have.

She was now seven hundred dollars poorer, but admittedly looking pretty incredible if you didn’t count the fearful expression on her face.

She took in a deep breath, sneaking a peak at her father as she did so. He looked almost as nervous as she felt.

“Won’t be long now, Dad,” Carrie told him gently, getting a weak smile in return.

Carrie could hear music playing, but not
the music
yet. Yet she found herself waiting for it with an anxiety ridden gut.

All those shows and events she’d staged hadn’t phased her. Yet waiting to walk down the aisle at her wedding had her thinking of criminals waiting for their call to the gallows to be hanged. Probably not a good sign, Carrie decided, to be comparing getting married to being hanged.

“There was a big enough crowd when I looked out earlier,” Ethan said, looking down at his adult daughter, surprised to find himself picturing her as a young girl. “You look wonderful, honey.”

“Thank you,” Carrie said, patting her father’s arm.

A big crowd, she thought, her stomach rolling. People were still being seated and those seated were waiting—waiting on her.

She didn’t know how, but evidently Michael had gotten the word out well. Some attendees were her clients. Most were family. A few—a precious few—were people she might have called friends, if she had been that kind of person.

Carrie had never had many friends, much less a best friend or a girl friend. Her life hadn’t allowed for slumber parties or any of the normal things girls did.

She had unemotionally recruited Brooke to be her maid of honor before even meeting her because she didn’t want to have to pick between her two sisters.

Now Brooke, whom Carrie decided she liked very much, was standing at the edge of the vestibule door peeking out and reporting on what was happening while they waited in the queue.

“I don’t think there’s going to be an empty seat if this keeps up,” Brooke said with laugh, then promptly stopped when she saw Carrie turn the color of her dress.

This was her third wedding—third marriage, Carrie told herself, trying to calm her nerves. There was no reason for it to be making her sicker than she already was with the baby. Yet butterflies in her stomach told her the truth about how much the situation was getting to her.

“Carrie—you’re such a wimp,” she whispered to herself softly.

“No, I’m fine. It’s these dang shoes making me limp,” her father said, misunderstanding what she had said. “I don’t wear them enough to break them in properly.”

Carrie smiled and laughed. “I didn’t say anything about limping, Dad. I was—I was just talking to myself because I’m nervous.”

Her father’s gaze met hers. “Nervous about getting married or about being a wife to your husband? Don’t you still think Michael Larson is a good man?” he asked.

Surprised by the timing and sincerity of her father’s question, Carrie answered off the cuff. “Of course Michael is a good man—not a perfect man—but a good one. He’ll be a good father.”

“What about husband? Tell me truthfully, Carlene—do you love him?” Ethan asked his daughter, suddenly wanting to see some genuine emotion on her face, even if she got upset. He was surprised to see the truth flash across her face only to be followed by resignation. It—it made him sad and reminded him of Maggie.

“Yes,” Carrie said, unwilling to dishonor Michael by admitting her fears when he’d defended her to her father before. “Yes. I love him, Dad.”

“Enough to marry him?” Ethan asked more softly. “Carlene, you don’t have to do this. I can have you out the door and hid before anyone even knows you’re gone.”

Carrie looked at her father in shock. “
Gone?
I thought you’d think I was doing the right thing marrying the father of my child.”

“Part of me does think that,” Ethan admitted. “I can’t say differently, but—,”

Carrie searched her father’s expression, astounded at what she saw in his gaze. It was a level of caring and concern that she’d never thought he would feel for her.

She lifted a hand to his face without even being conscious of doing so.

“I don’t have the faith you have, but I can tell you it’s the honest truth that Michael Larson is the only man I’ve ever truly wanted or loved. My—my trust in him is not what it should be as a wife, but this is as close to what you want for me as I am probably ever going to get. He’s a good man in most ways, Dad. The rest I’m trying to figure out. I need to marry the father of my child,” she said. “Do you understand that?”