Summer Wedding Bells: Marriage Wanted / Lone Star Lovin'

“I’m not sure,” he answered, and she was impressed with his honesty. “But I’m willing to try. That’s all I ask of you.”

“That sounds fair.”

He rubbed his palms together as though eager to get started. “If you don’t object, I’d like to go first.”

“Just a minute,” she said, holding up her hand. “Before we do, shouldn’t we set some rules?”

“Like what?”

Although it was her suggestion, Savannah didn’t really have an answer. “I don’t know. Just boundaries of some kind.”

“I trust you not to do anything weird, and you can count on the same from me,” he said. “After all—”

“Don’t be so hasty,” she interrupted. “If we’re going to put time and effort into this, it makes sense that we have rules. And something riding on the outcome.”

His blue eyes brightened. “Now there’s an interesting thought.” He paused and a smile bracketed his mouth. “So you want to set a wager?”

Nash seemed to be on a one-man campaign to convince her the world would be a better place without the institution of marriage. “We might as well make it interesting, don’t you think?”

“I couldn’t agree more. If you can prove your point and get me to agree that you have, what would you want in exchange?”

This part was easy. “For you to attend Susan and Kurt’s wedding. It would mean the world to Susan.”

The easy smile disappeared behind a dark frown.

“She was in this afternoon,” Savannah continued, rushing the words in her eagerness to explain. “She’s anxious and confused, loving you and loving Kurt and needing your approval so badly.”

Nash’s mouth narrowed into a thin line of irritation.

“Would it really be so much to ask?” she ventured. “I realize I’d need to rely on your complete and total honesty, but I have faith in you.” She took a sip of her latte.

“So, if you convince me my thinking is wrong on this marriage issue, you want me to attend Susan’s wedding.” He hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Deal,” he said, and his grin reappeared.

Until that moment, Savannah was convinced Nash had no idea what he intended to use for his argument. But apparently he did. “What would you want from me?” she asked. Her question broke into his musings because he jerked his head toward her as if he’d forgotten there might be something in this for him, as well. He took a deep breath and then released it. “I don’t know. Do I have to decide right now?”

“No.”

“It’ll be something substantial—you understand that, don’t you?”

Savannah managed to hold back a smile. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“How about home-cooked dinners for a week served on your fanciest china? That wouldn’t be out of line,” he murmured.

She gaped at him. Her request had been generous and completely selfless. She’d offered him an excuse to attend Susan’s wedding and salvage his pride, and in return he wanted her to slave in the kitchen for days on end.

“That is out of line,” she told him, unwilling to agree to anything so ridiculous. If he wanted homemade meals, he could do what the rest of the world did and cook them himself, visit relatives or get married.

Nash’s expression was boyish with delight. “So you’re afraid you’re going to lose.”

Raising her eyebrows, she said, “You haven’t got a prayer, Davenport.”

“Then what’s the problem?” he asked, making an exaggerated gesture with both hands. “Do you agree to my terms or not?”

This discussion had wandered far from what she’d originally intended. Savannah had been hoping to smooth things over between brother and sister and at the same time prove her own point. She wasn’t interested in putting her own neck on the chopping block. Any attempt to convince Nash of the error of his ways was pointless.

He finished off his latte and flung the empty container into her garbage receptacle. “Be ready tomorrow afternoon,” he said, walking to the door.

Savannah scrambled awkwardly from the stool. “What for?” she called after him. She limped two steps toward him and stopped abruptly at the flash of pain that shot up her leg. She’d sat too long in the same position, something she was generally able to avoid. She wanted to rub her thigh, work the throbbing muscle, but that would reveal her pain, which she wanted to hide from Nash.

“You’ll know more tomorrow afternoon,” he promised, looking pleased with himself.

“How long will this take?”

“There are time restrictions? Are there any other rules we need to discuss?”

“I…We should both be reasonable about this, don’t you think?”

“I was planning to be sensible, but I can’t speak for you.”

This conversation was deteriorating rapidly. “I’ll be ready at closing time tomorrow afternoon, then,” she said, holding her hand against her thigh. If he didn’t leave soon, she was going to have to sit down. Disguising her pain had become a way of life, but the longer she stood, the more difficult it became.

“Something’s wrong,” he announced, his gaze hard and steady. “You’d argue with me if there wasn’t.”

Again she was impressed by his sensitivity. “Nonsense. I said I’d be ready. What more do you want?”

He left her then, in the nick of time. A low moan escaped as she sank onto her chair. Perspiration moistened her brow and she drew in several deep breaths. Rubbing her hand over the tense muscles slowly eased out the pain.

The phone was situated to the left of her desk and after giving the last of her discomfort a couple of minutes to ebb away, she reached for the receiver and dialed her parents’ number. Apparently Nash had decided how to present his case. She had, too. No greater argument could be made than her parents’ loving relationship. Their marriage was as solid as Fort Knox and they’d been devoted to each other for over thirty years. Nash couldn’t meet her family and continue to discredit love and marriage.

Her father answered on the second ring, sounding delighted to hear from her. A rush of warm feeling washed over Savannah. Her family had been a constant source of love and encouragement to her through the years.

“Hi, Dad.”

“It’s always good to hear from you, sweetheart.”

Savannah relaxed in her chair. “Is Mom around?”

“No, she’s got a doctor’s appointment to have her blood pressure checked again. Is there anything I can do for you?”

Savannah’s hand tightened around the receiver. She didn’t want to mislead her parents into thinking she was involved with Nash. But she needed to prove her point. “Is there any chance I could bring someone over for dinner tomorrow night?”

“Of course.”

Savannah laughed lightly. “You might want to check Mom’s calendar. It’d be just like you to agree to something when she’s already made plans.”

“I looked. The calendar’s right here in the kitchen and tomorrow night’s free. Now, if you were to ask about Friday, that’s a different story.”

Once more Savannah found herself smiling.