A Marriage Made in Texas (The Brothers Kincaid) (12 page)

A collective gasp went up, along with a few groans. Cameron took his niece by the shoulders and spoke to her, more sternly than Jay had ever heard anyone address the child. “That’s enough, Rox. Tell Jay you’re sorry.”

“Won’t,” she said, her lip thrust out mutinously.

Jay saw behind the stubbornness, to the pain and uncertainty in her eyes. “Don’t worry about it, Cam,” Jay said, and watched as Cameron marched her off.

Great. Terrific. His soon-to-be stepdaughter hated his guts. Not only that, she’d just informed everyone at the wedding of her feelings. It looked like changing Roxy’s attitude was going to be a lot harder than he and Gail had believed.

Hard? Or impossible?

G
AIL LAY
on her mother’s bed, a cool, damp washcloth on her forehead, a half-eaten cracker in her hand and total misery in her soul.

Seated beside her, Cat asked, “Are you any better?”

“Oh, peachy. Just dig the hole and let me crawl in it.” She stuck the remainder of the cracker in her mouth, chewed and swallowed.

Cat gave a gurgle of laughter.

Gail flung the washcloth aside and glared at her. “It’s easy for you to laugh. You’re not the one who just abjectly humiliated herself in front of all those people. Not to mention, humiliating my poor husband-to-be. Or maybe not to be. Jay probably doesn’t even want to marry me now. For all we know, he’s hightailed it out of here. God knows, most men would have, long before this.”

Her eyes filled with tears and she turned her head away. Was she cursed? At least at her other wedding she hadn’t almost barfed in front of the guests. Of course, that marriage had failed. So maybe in a bizarre sort of way, this was a good sign. A sign their marriage would last.

“You know better than that. Jay is still here. And he’s waiting for you to come out.” Cat patted Gail’s arm. “Gail, you know I’m sympathetic. Really I am.”

Gail turned her head and looked at her. “I hear a but in there.”

Cat nodded. “You’re being ridiculous.”

Gail’s mother entered the room just then. “Are you feeling better, dear?”

“If you mean am I going to barf again, no, Mom, I believe I’m past that. For now.”

Meredith’s perfectly arched eyebrows drew together in puzzlement. “Then what in the world is keeping you?”

“Try embarrassment. No, try humiliation. In case you didn’t notice, Mom, I sort of ran out on my bridegroom at a crucial moment.”

“Oh, that.” Her mother waved away her words, and her misery, with a flip of her hand. “Jay knows why you ran out, doesn’t he?”

“Of course he does!” She looked from her sister to her mother, both of whom held identical expressions of disapproval. “Oh, go away, you two. You don’t understand. Just leave me alone.” She turned her head away again.

“Gail, look at me,” Meredith said, in the commanding voice Gail remembered as a child. When she’d done something bad and her mother was about to let her have it.

Unwillingly compelled, she turned her head to look at her mother.

“I’m ashamed of you. Positively ashamed. Lying
on that bed whining—” she held up an imperative hand when Gail would have spoken “—yes, whining, while your bridegroom, not to mention, your guests, are patiently waiting for you. A better man I doubt you’ll find. Are you thinking of him at all, while you’re lying on that bed feeling sorry for yourself?”

Gail stared at her mother, unable to believe her ears.

“Sorry, Gail, but I agree with Mom,” Cat said, adding the clincher. “I hate to say it, but you’re being a wimp.”

“Wimp, am I?” Incensed, Gail sat up and glared at her sister. “Whining, am I?” she demanded of her mother. Pointedly ignoring the two of them, she got off the bed and stalked into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

She looked in the mirror and moaned. Grabbed a brush and went to work on her hair. Rinsed her mouth out and reapplied her lipstick. Added a little blush and mascara.

Now, that’s more like it, she thought, eyeing her reflection critically. She was strong. In control. Invincible. She nearly giggled as the words to “I Am Woman” began to run through her mind.

Cat and her mother were right. Oh, she’d had reason to be upset. But enough was enough. Shame tugged at her, because her mother had been right about something else, as well. She hadn’t been thinking of Jay, left standing at the altar. She’d been too concerned with her own feelings to consider his. It can’t have been very comfortable to have his bride
run out on him. Even if he knew the reason, not everyone did. But she would make it up to him.

She intended to go out there with her head held high and enjoy her wedding. And later, when they got to the condo, she’d make Jay forget everything but his name. He certainly wouldn’t be thinking of the fact that his bride-to-be had run out of the wedding smack in the middle of the vows.

Not if she had anything to say about it.

“I’m ready,” she said, and swept past her mother and sister.

She could have sworn she heard them give each other a high five as she passed through the door.

S
OME WEDDING NIGHT
,
Jay thought, hours later. But after the day he’d had, what else had he expected? His bride lay sleeping in the bedroom. The cable reception for the condos was out, and the only thing he could pick up on the TV was an incredibly grainy, pitifully bad horror flick.

He didn’t even have a book to read, since he hadn’t imagined he’d do much reading on his honeymoon. All he’d found in the condo was a dog-eared copy of a paperback thriller he’d read several years before, and for some bizarre reason, a Farmer’s Almanac from the same time period.

The heroine of the horror flick screamed and dripped more blood. Jay picked up the paperback. It was looking better all the time.

At least he had champagne, even if he did have to drink it alone. He chose a fluted glass and toasted his
invisible bride. Gail hadn’t even managed a glass of sparkling grape juice before she’d fallen asleep. Fallen asleep, hell. She’d crashed, dead to the world the instant she’d changed into her nightgown.

Did wanting to make love to his bride on their wedding night make him a terrible person? An insensitive bastard?

He’d dealt with the interrupted ceremony without much problem. Ignored Roxy’s behavior, which went from bad to worse, until finally, her mother had sent her to bed before the reception ended. He’d endured the speculation by those who didn’t know, as to exactly why Gail had run out on the wedding.

My God, he remembered, shuddering, he’d even listened with an appearance of interest to his mother-in-law and her friends go into exhaustive detail of all their physical ailments, most of which sounded like pure hypochondria to him.

He’d dealt with it all because he knew he’d be alone with Gail soon, and he’d assumed they would do what most people did on their wedding night. Make love.

Stupid assumption, obviously.

He picked up a cheese stick and bit into it, glad that Cat had sent along some of the food from the reception. He thought about getting out the chilled shrimp, but decided he’d save that for later. It looked like it was going to be a long night. A long, lonely night.

Brooding, he sipped champagne. He wasn’t a total jerk. He didn’t blame Gail. She was pregnant and ex
hausted and had fallen asleep. She hadn’t done it to frustrate him, he knew. Nevertheless, he
was
frustrated. Extremely.

He walked to the bedroom door and looked at her, curled up asleep on top of the covers. Her sheer white nightgown was very pretty, and very sexy. Unfortunately. Afraid he’d wake her if he put her under the covers, he picked up a light blanket and covered her with it. Better, though he could still see her face, and those luscious lips just made for kissing.

He thought about getting in bed with her and holding her while she slept, but the truth was, he wasn’t too sure of his control. They hadn’t made love since the previous weekend, and he had an idea if he held her next to him, all his good intentions would go out the window. And she obviously needed to sleep.

His wife. Funny, but the words didn’t seem as strange to him as he’d thought they would. He touched his fingers to her cheek and smiled as she snuggled down under the blanket. Until a week ago, he’d never envisioned himself married at all. Much less married with a baby on the way. And two stepdaughters.

But he wouldn’t think about his stepdaughters tonight, especially the one who hated him. Time enough later to worry about how to handle Roxy, and eventually win her over.

So, he didn’t want to think about problems, and if he stood staring at Gail for much longer, he’d say to hell with it and wake her up and make love to her.
The thriller it is, he told himself and left his wife sleeping.

He woke hours later, hard as stone, with Gail’s mouth on his and her hands sliding over his body, mercilessly arousing. Reaching for her, he found nothing but bare, silky flesh. He groaned. “Is this a dream?” he asked hoarsely.

“Take off your pants,” she whispered, spreading her hands over his bare chest. “I want you naked.”

“If I’m dreaming I’m going to be extremely—” he sucked in a breath as her warm mouth traveled over his chest, kissing, nipping “—disappointed.”

She unbuckled, unzipped his pants. “Now,” she said. “Right now.”

In seconds he’d shed his clothes and Gail knelt beside the couch, her hands and mouth working magic. She leaned over, kissed his mouth deeply, her tongue dancing a long, slow tune with his, her bare breasts teasing his chest, tormenting him with their softness.

“Did you think I’d sleep through our entire wedding night?” she murmured, her hand closing around his aching flesh, sliding up and down, slowly, torturously. “Without ever making love?”

He could barely breathe, sure as hell couldn’t think. “Yes,” he managed to say.

“You were wrong. I want you too much.” Her mouth traced its way down his body, while her hands drove him toward oblivion. “I want this to be a night you’ll remember. Always.” And her mouth replaced her hands.

He put his hands in her hair and groaned. “Believe me, I’ll remember.”

T
HE FOLLOWING DAY
they walked the beach, half empty because of the season, looking for driftwood and shells. They played in the surf and built an elaborate sandcastle, and talked about their families, and how different their childhoods had been.

Gail knew something about Jay’s childhood from Cat, via Mark. But she’d never heard about it from Jay’s perspective.

She was very touched to discover that Jay quite simply adored his older brother. Of course, he didn’t phrase it quite like that. Still, it was clear he admired Mark tremendously and loved him very much.

“So Mark worked in construction before joining the Fish and Wildlife Service?” Stretched out on the sand leaning on one arm, she watched as Jay very carefully shaped a tower on his side of the castle. Gail had long since stopped, content to watch him. “He must have taught you some of those skills. Your part of the castle is much more elaborate than mine. Mine’s just kind of a square blob.”

Jay grinned. “Well, he tried. Both Brian and I had part-time jobs, and we did a little construction, but our hearts were never in it. Of course—” he frowned a little as he dripped some wet sand over the structure “—Mark’s never was, either. But he had to support Brian and me.”

“Where was your mother during those years? I mean, you see her now, obviously.” Gail had enjoyed
a nice visit with her and her husband after the wedding. It was hard to reconcile the woman she knew with the one who’d left her children to be raised by her oldest son.

Jay nodded, still concentrating on his building. “Yes, but Brian and I didn’t see her at all until about six years ago. Mark and she reconciled about a year after that, around the time he met Cat. None of us realized it at the time, but our mother left because she was sick. She spent a couple of years in a hospital, being treated for depression.” He glanced at Gail. “Didn’t Cat ever tell you any of this?”

“Not really. Oh, I knew you’d been estranged from your mother, and that Mark had raised you and Brian, but I didn’t know any details. It must have been hard, putting that behind you.”

“A lot easier for Brian and me than for Mark. But then, we didn’t have to put our lives on hold at twenty-one to support a family.” He stopped building for a moment and looked out at the ocean. “Mark’s the most responsible person I’ve ever known. And he never once made Brian or me feel like we were a burden.” His mood shifted and he smiled. “A pain in the ass, yes, but not a burden.”

Gail laughed. “Yes, I can hear Mark saying that.”

Idly, she tossed sand at the castle. “When did you become interested in medicine? Did you always want to be a doctor?”

“No, I had all sorts of ideas.” He shot her a quick grin. “Wanted to be a rock star for a while, but I
couldn’t sing, and couldn’t play a musical instrument, so I gave that up.”

“That would make it difficult,” she agreed, hiding her smile. “What else?”

“Thought about baseball.” Carefully, he added more sand, leaned back and considered his creation. “I played first base. Had a minor league team scout interested my senior year. Then I tore my ACL—the anterior cruciate ligament—in a slide into home and that idea bit the dust big-time. Nowadays they can fix that, but back then, it was a career-ending injury.”

“I’m sorry. Did you mind terribly not being able to play?”

“I wasn’t set on it. So, no, it was no great loss. And it did lead me into medicine.”

“How?”

He stretched out on the sand as well, the castle between them. “They took me to the emergency room. I’d been in before, but for some reason, that time I paid more attention. The doc who treated me was a great guy. He helped me get an orderly job there, took some interest in me. I left for college that fall as pre-med.”

“Were they hard? College and medical school?”

“Yes, but I had a lot of fun. California,” he said, and waved a hand at the ocean. “Beaches, pretty girls, surfing. What more could a guy ask for? Mark used to razz me about the surfing. I think he was afraid I’d chuck medicine and end up a beach bum.” He winked at Gail. “Sometimes I was tempted.”

She remembered thinking when she first met him
that he looked like a surfer. “Was Mark strict? After seeing him with Max, I have to wonder. That child has him wrapped around his finger. And I’m sure he’ll be even worse with Miranda.”

“They’ve got his number, all right. He wasn’t all that strict, but he remembered perfectly what goes on in a male teenager’s mind, so we couldn’t get around him very easily. He knew what we were going to pull before we did.”

“I thought all that goes on in a male teenager’s mind is sex?” Gail teased.

“Pretty much.” He shot her a calculating look and reached across the castle to trace a finger down her chest to her cleavage. “And for the record, the male doesn’t have to be a teenager for that to happen.”