Marry Me...Again. Cheryl St.John
assistance.
Within seconds he was sheathed and pressing into her willing flesh. Stars burst behind Brynna’s eyelids as waves of pleasure washed over her, coursed through her and stole all breath and reason. He was incredible. This moment was perfect. She had only ever imagined anything this good.
Devlin slowed his movements, kissed her tenderly…told her in a few clipped words how hot she made him…and in moments she discovered her imagination was a void where this man was concerned. He cupped her hips and angled her body so he could penetrate her swollen readiness more deeply, then gently, determinedly, eased her into another shattering climax, after which he found his own release and fell to her side.
Dazed and lethargically replete, Brynna turned on her side to gaze at him. She laid her palm against his chest, where his heart slowed to an even rhythm beneath her touch, and studied his face in profile. He had closed his eyes. One hand lay limp on his belly. His skin glowed from exertion. What a mind-numbing experience that had been, Brynna thought, thinking how uncharacteristic it was of her to do something so—impulsive.
Oddly, she didn’t care. Maybe she would later. Maybe tomorrow she’d be consumed with regret and shame. But not at this moment. Not feeling the way she did and not while looking at Devlin. A smile touched her lips.
Could the experience possibly have been as incredible for him as it had been for her? Had it meant anything to him, or was she just another in a long line of one-night flings? The thought was like a shard of glass to her chest. She was nothing if not realistic and practical. Devlin Holmes would probably sleep for a few hours and then slip out of her apartment to disappear, except for an awkward moment every once in a while, where she ran into him at MonMart or the gas station. How would she feel?
He rolled his head toward her then and opened his eyes to look at her with an expression she would have called awe if she weren’t down-to-earth and reasonable. He rolled toward her, raising the hand from his belly to her cheek. “Hey.”
She gave him a half-embarrassed smile, wondering how she could assure him she didn’t expect him to stay for breakfast, or even to use the rest of those condoms.
He looked into her eyes and said the last thing she would ever have expected. “Will you marry me, Brynna?”
Chapter Three
The Present
Brynna arranged two china plates, silverware and napkins in silver rings, then placed a pair of candlesticks holding ivory tapers in the center of the dining room table and paused. Too obvious, much too obvious. This looked as though she was setting the scene for a seduction. Plucking the candlesticks from the table, she stood holding them…considering…rethinking…changing her mind yet again.
She was setting the scene for something, after all—dinner! She and Dev shared a candlelight dinner a couple of times a month, whenever their schedules allowed, so why shouldn’t she set a romantic table?
Replacing the candles, she laid a book of matches nearby and studied the setting again, turning the bouquet of freshly cut daisies for the best effect. Dev liked daisies. She hoped he had remembered their arrangement and would be here on time.
She glanced at her watch, deliberately shoving concern away. More than once, he’d forgotten their planned evening and had been off flying somewhere while she waited. His forgetfulness had been a point of contention on more than one occasion.
Marriage was still new to him, Brynna thought, justifying his underlying wanderlust as she always did. Eight months was barely enough time to get to know each other, let alone change a lifetime of habits. Before marrying her, he’d never had to be accountable to anyone, never had to take another person’s feelings or schedule into consideration, so considering all that, he was doing great. And only occasionally did she allow his wild ways to strain her patience.
She just didn’t know how he was going to take the news she was going to lay on him tonight. Every day, every situation with Dev was like sailing uncharted waters. Anxiety tied her stomach in a knot.
Headlights swept across the picture window in the living room, indicating Dev’s pickup had turned into the driveway. Relief washed over her at the same time as anxiety pricked at her nerves. Brynna placed a hand over her chest and took a deep breath to calm herself.
Quickly, she lit the candles and turned off the overhead light.
The front door opened, and her tall handsome husband entered the living room, tossing his hat on a nearby bench and immediately looking for her. A warm rush of affection flooded over her as it always did when she saw him—when he made her feel so special. “Hey, sweet thing,” he greeted her.
She headed toward him with a smile. “You’re on time.”
He met her in the doorway to the dining room and, taking her elbows in his warm hands, gazed down at her with tenderness. “This is our only evening together this week. I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Remember Friday evening is Tuck’s birthday party at Melanie’s place,” she said, touching a finger to his chin. “Don’t miss that, either. I’ll be on call, but I should get to spend part of the evening there.”
He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her soundly. “I’ll be there.”
When he loosened the embrace and lowered his mouth to hers, Brynna met his lips and kissed him, amazed that she still felt such excitement every time she saw him. In eight months, the blush of first love had not waned. She never ceased being grateful that she’d found him, but a wariness always accompanied her joy. How long would a free spirit like Dev be happy with her and with this life?
“You cooked,” he said, releasing her and glancing over her shoulder with appreciation.
“I did.”
“I’ll pour the wine.”
She moved toward the kitchen to get the food. “None for me, thanks.”
He glanced at her. “Well, then, I’ll decline, too. No sense opening a bottle just for me. Can I help?” He moved into the kitchen and washed his hands at the sink.
“When have I ever turned down help?”
He grinned and kissed the back of her neck before moving on to his task. Dev was a toucher, spontaneously caressing her or laying a hand on the small of her back in passing. He had a natural way of making her feel loved and important. Some days she’d felt so lucky, she’d wondered when it would all come crashing down. And she prayed this wasn’t the day.
Once the food was on the table, they sat. She passed the dishes and they ate.
“Someone offered to buy Sky Spirit today,” he said, slathering butter and sour cream on his potato.
“Again?” He was referring to his pride and joy, the ultralight plane he’d built.
“A guy I met in Denver.”
“You were in Denver today?”
“This morning.” He tasted the steak she’d grilled to perfection. “Mmm, this is delicious.”
Brynna could barely keep track of his activities. Some days he worked at the Holmes Ranch, but others he spent flying. She hadn’t known much at all about Dev when she’d married him, nothing save the fact that he set her on fire and she couldn’t take another breath without him in her life, but she’d quickly learned that he didn’t work at his cousin’s ranch for the money.
Dev was the second son of a well-to-do family, college-educated. He assisted with the family business when duty forced him to do so, and, having tried his hand at ranching and finding he enjoyed it, Dev now preferred to work for his cousin for a mere pittance.
His main activity was flying the ultralights he built and sold for a nice profit. The only one he hadn’t sold was his favorite, Sky Spirit. He also owned and flew a Cessna 206 as well as a Piper Seneca that he kept in hangars at Lee Henderson’s airfield north of Rumor. His inability to stay in one place