Page 95 of First Bride to Fall
Inthisuniverse, he needed to keep his head on straight and remember that she’d played him, if not purely for her own gain, at least for the benefit of her family business. She’d set her sights on him as a husband placeholder so that spot wouldn’t get filled by Aidan Strong. It would bother him less if he didn’t like her so much, because it would make things a lot simpler when it ended.
He glanced into the kitchen, recalling that he still needed to deal with the fish he had waiting in the cooler on the back stoop. Maybe he should try to rouse Nell first to see if she was ready to go to bed.
“Nell,” he said softly. “Nell?”
He stooped low and touched her arm, but she didn’t budge.
She was out like a light and would likely sleep straight through till morning. He tried gently shaking her again, and her eyelids fluttered. But then she hunkered down even more beneath the sofa blanket, snoozing like an angel. She was pretty adorable all right.
He shook his head.
Adorable, but not the right woman for me.
Tomorrow, I’ll have another chance to prove that to both of us.
He went into the bedroom and pulled back the covers. Then he returned to Nell, scooping her up in his arms. She mumbled and wrapped her arms around his neck, still in her dream world. Maybe she was dreaming about him. He’d certainly spent a lot of last night dreaming about her.
But that was before going into Bearberry Brews and talking to her sisters.
He set her down on the bed, laying her head on a pillow and tenderly covering her up, then stood in the shadows thinking as light flickered into the room from the woodstove.
Nell. Nell. If only you loved me.
But she didn’t. Sadly, she was just pretending.
Well, he could pretend, too, for one more day.
He raked a hand through his hair, his heart brimming with sorrow.
They’d had such an amazing day yesterday. And even today, after all the hurdles he’d put her through, she’d managed to leave her mark on him. When he’d walked back into his spruced-up cabin, she’d caught him off guard—and branded him with that dazzling smile of hers.
Then later, he was sure they’d shared a moment after their water fight. Their exchange had been sexy. Intimate. Fun. For an instant, she’d let her guard down, and it was like he’d seen the real her. He’d slipped, too, revealing his emotions. Too many of his emotions. He’d nearly tipped his hand.
But he wouldn’t slip up again. That would only prolong his misery. He needed to get Nell to go ahead and dump him so they could both go on with their lives. Tomorrow, he would ratchet things up to the point where she’d have no choice but to go.
…
Grant woke up in the middle of the night starving. He’d opted against frying the fish, not wanting to wake Nell with any banging around of pots and pans, and made himself a quick peanut butter sandwich instead. He wasn’t in the mood for more peanut butter now, though. He craved real food, and not something made with tofu, either. Or anything lactose free.
He quietly stole into the kitchen and flicked on the light over the stove. Deliciously cheesy chicken parmigiana sounded awesome about now. He didn’t care if he had to eat it cold. Maybe he could spread the remaining noodles out in the bottom of the serving dish after he fixed himself some. That way, Nell wouldn’t notice that he’d eaten any. She probably hadn’t counted the actual chicken pieces. Nobody could be that observant.
Grant located the casserole in the refrigerator and set it on the stove top, serving himself a nice big helping. Amazing aromas wafted toward him, and he couldn’t wait to dig in. He used the serving spatula to carefully rearrange what was left and covered the casserole dish with its lid, tucking it back in the fridge. Then he settled down at the table for his late-night feast, which was absolutely as tasty as he’d hoped. More so.
He finished in record time, being pretty obviously famished. Now he was in the mood for something sweet. A little dessert would be nice. Aha! His gaze snagged on Nell’s apple bread on the counter. He unwrapped it and held it up for a sniff. His mouth watered at the hints of cinnamon and apples.Yes.This is going to be delicious.Just the right little morsel to top off his savory pasta, the flavors of which still rolled around on his tongue.
He slid open a kitchen drawer and took out a large knife. He started to cut himself a moderate piece, then decided to make it bigger.Who am I kidding? This looks incredible. His stomach rumbled, and he took a bite. Yum. Such appley goodness. The crunchy walnuts were a superb touch. His mouth was having a happy little party—the fall fest kind.
It would be easy for him to take a smidgen more without Nell finding out, since she’d clearly had some earlier. Probably to keep her energy up while doing all that cabin cleaning—and wood chopping. Grant’s spirits flagged, and he felt like a heel all over again for laying all that work on her. Then he tried to remind himself that no one had forced her to comply with his unreasonable requests. In fact, the goal had been for hernotto comply.
“What are you doing?”
Grant jolted upright, cramming the huge slice of apple bread into his mouth until his cheeks bulged out like a chipmunk.
“Hmm?” he asked, spinning toward her.
Nell stared at him wide-eyed. “Are you eating something?”
He covered his mouth and mumbled, “Nuh-uh.”
