Promises Reveal by Sarah McCarty

eyelids weighted. It felt right to lean into his hand. Right that his hand open and his broad palm cup her cheek. “Not if you teach me to cheat, too.”
    Even talking was hard.
    “You’d be lousy at it.”
    She blinked. “I’m never lousy at anything I attempt.”
    “You care too much to lie with equanimity.”
    “I want to cheat, not lie.”
    “They go hand in hand.”
    “Then I’ll learn.”
    “I’m not sure I want you to.”
    Forcing her eyes open, she frowned at him. “Because I have to be the perfect minister’s wife. Boring!”
    His chuckle wafted across her cheek. When had he gotten so close? “You might have to be a little restricted during the days, but I guarantee your nights will be anything but boring.”
    “Big talk.”
    His chair scraped back as he stood. “But I’m a big man.”
    Yes, he was. She craned her neck back, squinting against the blurring of his expression. “I think I need some more whiskey.”
    He took the glass out of her hand. “I think you’ve had enough.”
    “Being boring already?”
    “Just stating the obvious.”
    “Says you.”
    The sexy smile left his lips. “Yeah. Says me.”
    “Why are you frowning?”
    He helped her to her feet, which was good because the room started swaying as soon as she stood. “Because I overestimated your tolerance for drink.”
    She caught his arm and closed her eyes. “I’m past chuckler?”
    “Not quite.”
    “Good. Because I feel rather floaty.”
    “That might be because I’m carrying you.”
    She opened her eyes. Disappointment shot through her. So he was. “Darn.”
    She’d been enjoying the illusion that she could float, but then again, she decided as she absorbed the fact that he was carrying her with so little effort, there were benefits to this, too. Being carried made her feel dainty and feminine. Something she’d never had the opportunity to experience. Snuggling in, she decided to enjoy it.
    “Where are we going?”
    “The bedroom.”
    There was something she was supposed to remember about that. She wrestled the memory from deep within the haze. “I’m not sleeping with you.”
    “Why not?”
    “You’d be too much.”
    Of all the things Brad expected her to say, that wasn’t it. “Too much?”
    “You’ll want to take over, and I don’t want to be taken over. I want a nice, malleable husband.”
    That she could boss around and control. Turning sideways to get through the doorway, Brad shook his head. Evie would be miserable with a man like that. She enjoyed a challenge too much to spend her life with someone who’d let her walk all over him. That would truly bore her.
    Belatedly, her arms came around his neck. He stopped beside the bed. She glanced around the room. “Why are we here?”
    “In this room or this house?” He thought the room was pretty obvious so he wasn’t surprised when she answered.
    “This house. It has such a sad story.”
    It did at that. Elijah’s hope had died here. “Maybe I just want to bring it a little happiness.”
    While she seemed to consider that, he let her feet slide to the floor.
    “No. That’s not it.”
    He steadied her while she swayed. He didn’t have to tip her head back. She did it naturally, frowning at him, obviously still considering her point. He caught the point of her chin on the edge of his finger, more because he wanted to touch her than that he needed to steady her. She was tipsy, but not drunk. “Then what is it?”
    “I asked you first.”
    “And I asked you second.”
    “Which means?”
    “You have to answer me.”
    He did love the way her eyes sparkled and her voice snapped when she got annoyed. So much spirit packed into one very feminine, sweet body. Which was his. Every fiery, sexy, opinionated inch. He touched his thumb to the middle of her nose, smiling when her eyes crossed to see it. Cute, too. “I didn’t want to be interrupted when I make love to you, so I decided to borrow this house tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll go back to