A Bride After All by Kasey Michaels Page A

silently cursing people who didn’t unload their carts fast enough or who’d brought sixteen items into the ten-item limit line. A nightly Inquisition he stopped even pretending was just a natural interest in my day. It became obsessive. I couldn’t breathe.”
    Nick began rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. “His problem, Claire, not yours. His insecurities. It wasn’t your career. It was him.”
    “I know that now,” she told him. “I suggested counseling, but Steven wouldn’t agree. And then I looked in the rearview mirror one day, and saw hiscar. He was following me. Tailing me, as if I were some criminal.”
    “Cripes. You can’t blame yourself for that, Claire.”
    “I know. It took me a while, but I know. I called Derek, he said leave everything, get on a plane, come to him. Steven may never have raised a hand to me, or even his voice, but I understand women—people—like the woman you helped get to a shelter. When it’s time to go, it’s time to go. Things don’t matter. Clothes, furniture, the house in you live in. Nothing matters but getting out, saving yourself.”
    “Did he contest the divorce?”
    Finally, she smiled. “You haven’t met Derek, have you? My big brother is so gentle with a newborn, so funny and reassuring with all of his young patients. But you mentioned your cousin’s fiancé. Skip? I have a feeling Derek could give him an argument on which of them looks more like a stuffed penguin in a tux. Derek went to school in London and was captain of the rugby team, if that gives you more of an idea. He flew to Chicago the day after I arrived in Allentown, to settle things, he said. I don’t know what happened, and I don’t want to know, but Steven agreed to the divorce. Oh, and he’s getting married again. He called me to tell me. I can only hope he also learned from his mistakes.”
    She rested her cheek against Nick’s bare chest. “And that’s my story, chapter and verse. I…I just thought you should know.”
    “Thank you for telling me. And I think I’m glad Idon’t have to fly to Chicago and beat up your ex. I guess it wouldn’t be good to send your brother flowers, huh?”
    She lifted her head, smiled up into his face. “Men. You all want to punch something, as if that’s the answer to every problem. Why is that?”
    “It’s our base male animal instincts, I suppose. I’ve other base male animal instincts, you know. Can you guess which one I’m having now? Or are you just going to keep moving around on my lap like that until my eyes roll up in my head?”
    “Oh, you poor baby,” she said. “You mean when I move like this? Or…like this? Oh, gosh, Nick, now my shirt is riding up, and I’m not wearing any—”
    He growled low in his throat as he swooped down at her, plundered her mouth with an assurance that she would welcome his intensity, his passion.
    They’d played the game when they’d first come together, the game of do you like when I do this, what happens when I do that? They’d been slow, exploratory, learning each other.
    And they’d learned that they were good together. Very, very good together.
    When she touched him now, her touch was sure, certain and marvelously blatant. She unzipped his slacks and reached inside, taking him in her hand, moaning low in her throat as she gauged his arousal, obviously approved.
    She pushed his slacks down lower on his hips, and then did something he hadn’t expected. Fantasized about, he supposed, but never before experienced.She stood, looked down at his arousal, and then knelt in front of him. She reached into the pocket of his shirt…and pulled out a foil wrapped package.
    “You—”
    “I’m a terrible person, yes. And I could have been horribly wrong about what might happen between us tonight, or at least soon. But I’m also an optimist, I guess. Do you mind?”
    Nick shook his head. “I’m a base male animal, Claire. I never said I was an idiot. Here, let me have that.”
    “No,” she