Summer Wedding Bells: Marriage Wanted / Lone Star Lovin'. Debbie Macomber
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see her, especially after the idiotic way she’d behaved, scrambling out of his car as if escaping a murderer.
As was so often the case of late, Savannah was wrong. Nash was waiting on the sidewalk in front of her shop, carrying a white bag, when she arrived for work.
“Another peace offering?” she asked, when she unlocked the front door and opened it for him.
“Something like that.” He handed her a latte, then walked across the showroom and sat on the corner of her desk, dangling one leg, as though he had every right to make himself comfortable in her place of business.
Savannah hadn’t recovered from seeing him again so soon; she wasn’t prepared for another confrontation. “What can I do for you?” she asked stiffly, setting the latte aside. She sat down and leaned back in the swivel chair, hoping she looked relaxed, knowing she didn’t.
“I’ve come to answer your question,” he said, leg swinging as he pried loose the lid on his cup. He was so blasé about everything, as if the intensity of their kisses was a common thing for him. As if she was one in a long line of conquests. “You wanted to know what was different last night and I’m here to tell you.”
This was the last thing Savannah expected. She glanced pointedly at her watch. “Is this going to take long? I’ve got an appointment in ten minutes.”
“I’ll be out of here before your client arrives.”
“Good.” She crossed her arms, trying to hold on to her patience. Their kisses embarrassed her now. She was determined to push the whole incident out of her mind and forget him. It’d been crazy to make a wager with him. Fun, true, but sheer folly nonetheless. The best she could do was forget she’d ever met the man. Nash, however, seemed unwilling to let that happen.
“Well?” she pressed when he didn’t immediately speak.
“A woman doesn’t generally go to my head the way you did,” he said. “When I make love to a woman I’m the one in control.”
“We weren’t making love,” she said heatedly, heat flushing her cheeks with instant color. Her fingers bit into the soft flesh of her arms as she fought to keep the embarrassment to herself.
“What do you call it, then?”
“Kissing.”
“Yes, but it would’ve developed into something a whole lot more complicated if we hadn’t been in my car. The last time I made love in the backseat of a car, I was—”
“This may come as a surprise to you, but I have no interest in hearing about your sexual exploits,” she interjected.
“Fine,” he snapped.
“Besides, we were nowhere near making love.”
Nash’s responding snort sent ripples of outrage through Savannah. “You overestimate your appeal, Mr. Davenport.”
He laughed outright this time. “Somehow or other, I thought you’d say as much. I was hoping you’d be a bit more honest, but then, I’ve found truth an unusual trait in most women.”
The bell above her door chimed just then, and her appointment strolled into the shop. Savannah was so grateful to have this uncomfortable conversation interrupted, she almost hugged her client.
“I’d love to continue this debate,” she lied, “but as you can see, I have a customer.”
“Perhaps another time,” Nash suggested.
She hesitated. “Perhaps.”
He snickered disdainfully as he stood and sipped from the take-out cup. “As I said, women seem to have a hard time dealing with the truth.”
Savannah pretended not to hear him as she walked toward her customer, a welcoming smile on her face. “Good morning, Melinda. I’m so glad to see you.”
Nash said nothing as he sauntered past her and out the door. Not until he was out of sight did Savannah relax her guard. He claimed she went to his head. What he didn’t know was that his effect on her was startlingly similar. Then again, perhaps he did know.…
The woman irritated him. No, Nash decided as he hit the sidewalk, his stride clipped and fast, she more than irritated him. Savannah Charles incensed him. He didn’t understand this oppressive need he felt to talk to her, to explain, to hear her thoughts. He’d awakened wishing things hadn’t ended so abruptly between them, wishing he’d known what to say to convince her of his sincerity. Morning had felt like a second chance.
In retrospect, he suspected he was looking for help himself in working through the powerful emotions that had evolved during their embrace. Instead, Savannah claimed he’d miscalculated her reaction. The heck he had.
He should’ve realized she was as confused as he was about their explosive response to each other.
Nash arrived at his office half an hour later than usual. As he walked past his assistant’s desk, she handed him several telephone messages. He was due in court in twenty minutes, and wouldn’t have time to return any calls until early afternoon. Shuffling through the slips, he stopped at the third one.
Susan.
His sister had called him, apparently on her cell. Without further thought he set his briefcase aside and reached for the phone, punching out the number listed.
“Susan, it’s Nash,” he said when she answered. If he hadn’t been so eager to talk to her, he might have mulled over the reason for her call. Something must have happened; otherwise she wouldn’t have swallowed her pride to contact him.
“Hello, Nash.”
He waited a moment in vain for her to continue. “You called me?”
“Yes,” she said abruptly. “I wanted to apologize for hanging up on you the other day. It was rude and unnecessary. Kurt and I had a…discussion about it and he said I owed you an apology.”
“Kurt’s got a good head on his shoulders,” he said, thinking his sister would laugh and the tension between them would ease. It didn’t.
“I thought about what he had to say and Kurt’s right. I’m sorry for the way I reacted.”
“I’m sorry, too,” Nash admitted. “I shouldn’t have checked up on you behind your back.” If she could be so generous with her forgiveness, then so could he. After all, Susan was his little sister. He had her best interests at heart, although she wouldn’t fully appreciate his concern until later in life, when she was responsible for children of her own. He wasn’t Susan’s father, but he was her closest relative. Although she was twenty-four, he felt she still needed his guidance and direction.
“I was thinking we might have lunch together some afternoon,” she ventured, and the quaver in her voice revealed how uneasy she was making the suggestion.
Nash had missed their lunches together. “Sounds like a great idea to me. How about Thursday?”
“Same place as always?”
There was a Mexican restaurant that was their favorite, on a steep side street not far from the King County courthouse. They’d made a point of meeting there for lunch at least once a month for the past several years. The waitresses knew them well enough to greet them by name.
“All right. See you Thursday at noon.”
“Great.”
Grinning, Nash replaced the receiver.
He looked forward to this luncheon date with his sister the way a kid anticipates the arrival of the Easter bunny. They’d both said and done things they regretted. Nash hadn’t changed his mind about his sister marrying Kurt Caldwell. Kurt was decent, intelligent, hardworking and sincere, but they were both too young for marriage. Too uninformed about it. Judging by Susan’s reaction, she wasn’t likely to heed his advice. He hated to think of her making the same mistakes he had, but there didn’t seem to be any