Helen Lacey – Three Reasons To Wed (страница 1)
He looked downright irresistible.
Propped alongside his daughters in their bed, he was engaged in his nightly ritual of bedtime. The girls were sleepy as he read them a story.
Marissa took a moment to look at him, so handsome, so sexy.
She just stepped into the room when one of the girls said, “Daddy, we’ve been thinking.”
“Thinking about what?” Grady asked.
“That we’d like to have a new mommy,” she announced, so innocent it tugged at Marissa’s heart. “And if you married Marissa, she’d be our new mommy.”
The room was so quiet you could hear the proverbial pin drop. That’s all Marissa could think of as the child’s announcement echoed around the room.
Then blood rushed from her face and she gave a tiny gasp. Grady’s neck snapped around and he looked at her. Stared at her. Through her. Into that place she allowed only him.
She waited for him to gently tell his daughter that it was impossible. That people only got married when they were in love.
What he said made her heart pound …
* * *
The Cedar River Cowboys: Riding into town with romance on their minds!
Three Reasons to Wed
Helen Lacey
HELEN LACEY grew up reading
For my lovely friend Kathi Hillier, One of the best people I know.
Contents
Marissa Ellis pulled up outside her aunt’s house in Cedar River and switched off the ignition. The old home looked shabby and tired.
It was the least she could do for the great-aunt who had taken her in following the death of her mother when Marissa was twelve. She’d spent six years living on the ranch. Until she’d finished high school. Until a scholarship meant college. After college, there was an internship at one of the most successful advertising agencies in New York, followed by five years of fourteen-hour days and multimillion-dollar deals. And then there was her husband. Who quickly became her ex-husband.
Marissa shook herself. There was no point in reliving all that now. She was back...for good.
The small town sat in the shadow of the Black Hills. It was actually two towns—Cedar Creek and Riverbend—that were separated by a narrow riverbed and a bridge and with a total combined population of a few thousand. A century ago, both had served as the backdrop for a booming silver mining industry. The mines were mostly closed now, with just a couple used as tourist attractions, and finally, after years of negotiating between the local governments, the town would soon be renamed Cedar River.
Marissa didn’t really care what the town was called. She’d come back many times over the years—to see her aunt. To see her best friend, Liz. To see Liz’s three young daughters. And then to attend Liz’s funeral.
He didn’t like her anyhow. And since Liz’s death nearly two and a half years earlier, Grady’s disinterest in Marissa had amplified tenfold. Oh, he was polite and respectful and allowed her to see the girls, but he never encouraged her interactions and always seemed relieved each time she left to return to New York. But now she was back for good.
Her great-aunt’s place was right next door to Grady’s ranch, which meant she would have the opportunity to see her goddaughters more regularly than if she decided to reside in town.
If Grady continued to allow it, of course.
She’d have to see him, talk to him and make arrangements. But first, there was a house to settle into and sleep to be had. Marissa got out of the car and grabbed her bag from the backseat. It was nearly dusk and she walked carefully up the pathway, mindful of the overhanging branches from trees and shrubs well past their last prune.
The house was clean but smelled musty, and she quickly placed her things into the spare room before she wandered through a few other rooms, opening windows to allow the fresh evening air to sweep through the place.
She made a cup of instant coffee and drank it black, since there was no milk in the refrigerator, and for dinner settled on the couple of cereal bars and the apple she had in her bag. Once she was done, she took a long shower and tumbled into bed around eight o’clock.
She tossed and turned before finally managing to get just a few hours’ sleep, which left her restless and a little irritable when she was roused around six o’clock the following morning by a strange noise, like rustling bushes, coming from the backyard. Getting out of bed, Marissa padded down the hallway and opened the door to the small mudroom off the kitchen, peering outside. Dawn was peeking over the horizon and she blinked a couple of times to adjust to the sunlight.
And that’s when she saw him.
Grady’s two-thousand-pound Charolais bull was eating the geraniums in an overgrown flower bed by the fence. She quickly saw where he’d broken several of the fence palings to squeeze into the yard and let out an irritated sigh.
Marissa shut the door, trudged to her bedroom, grabbed her bag and took out her cell phone. She had the number on speed dial and it took about three rings for him to pick up.
“Marissa?” Grady’s deep voice wound up her spine like silk. “This is a surprise.”
She took a sharp breath. “Your bull is in my yard.”
“Your yard?” He was silent for a few seconds, but she could almost hear him doing that half-smile, half-frown thing he regularly did when they were around one another. “In New York?”
“At Aunt Violet’s,” she explained, her patience frayed.
He took another second to respond. “You’re back in town?”
“I’m back,” she replied quickly. “And your bull is eating the garden.”
More silence. Marissa’s skin prickled. Only Grady could do that to her. Only Grady could wind her up so much she wanted to scream. At eighteen she’d had a fleeting infatuation in him...but then he started dating her best friend and everything changed. It had to. Liz meant more to her than some silly high school crush. And when Liz and Grady got married, she stood beside her friend as her maid of honor and wished them every happiness for the future. And she’d meant it. Her own feelings were forgotten and she’d kept a handle on them for fourteen years. And she always would. No matter how much his deep voice stirred the blood in her veins.
Grady Parker was off-limits.