Baily's Irish Dream: Baily's Irish Dream / Czech Mate. Stephanie Doyle
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quite sure what she meant, he conceded, “Sure. Most people think they’ll get married and have a family someday.”
“No, I mean I’m getting married. When I get back to New Jersey,” Baily clarified.
He was at an absolute loss to explain the sudden sense of regret that washed over him. It was as if he tried to capture something in his grasp but it was gone before he could close his fingers around it. Then he shook his head. He was being ridiculous.
“So you’re engaged?” Daniel concluded. “Where’s your ring if you’re engaged?”
Shifting slightly in her seat, Baily thought of a few legitimate excuses, but none of them rang true. “Technically…I’m not…we really haven’t quite…he hasn’t actually…”
“He hasn’t proposed yet.” It was a statement. Ha! Daniel felt triumphant. Although he had no idea why.
“He hasn’t proposed, but he will. He’s waiting for me to come home.” There, that was reasonable. It was also the truth.
Daniel was confused. And really, none of this was his business. He should let the subject drop, lean his head back and catch a few winks. That was sound thinking.
“So he’s been waiting for you in New Jersey while you’ve been Seattle.”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
She squirmed in her seat a little bit, then muttered something under her breath.
“I’m sorry I didn’t catch that.”
“Seven years,” she said clearly.
There wasn’t any reaction at first. For a second, Baily thought he might have fallen asleep. That was until she glanced quickly to her right and saw his face turning red and his eyes watering up. Shortly after that, the laughter started.
Five minutes later he was still laughing. Baily’s anger grew proportionately. She didn’t know what had made her say anything in the first place. That wasn’t true. Maybe she’d wanted to share the story with someone. Get someone else’s feedback to decide whether or not she was making a huge mistake. Stupid idea. Now on top of everything else she was completely humiliated.
Breathing in deep gulps of air, Daniel tried to get control of his body. He couldn’t say why he found the story so amusing, but he had a feeling that the laughter had been building inside him from the first moment he’d seen her. Seven years. She certainly could deliver a punch line. Once he was calm he was able to ask his next series of questions.
“Okay, give. You’re telling me your soon-to-be fiancé has been waiting for you for seven years. What the hell have you been doing, picking out bridemaids’ dresses?” Daniel amazed himself with his witty banter.
His question was met with stony silence. Taking in her profile, he could see her proud chin was raised slightly. While he waited for her reaction, he took the time to study her other features. He couldn’t help but notice that her nose sloped up at the cutest angle. Her lips were firm, but were currently stiff with irritation. Long lashes dusted her cheeks when they closed. If he looked close, he could even count the number of freckles that covered the right side of her face. Seventeen.
“I’m sorry for laughing,” Daniel apologized, unused to the sound of those words echoing off his own lips. “I really want to know the whole story.”
“Why? So you can make fun of me some more?” Baily was no masochist.
The long highway stretched in front of them, and Daniel felt penned in by the confines of the small car. The question and its answer was just a way to pass the time. At least that was what he told himself. “I won’t make fun. Hey, I’m not even married.”
“Big shock there,” Baily retorted.
“See, I won’t even rise to your bait. Now tell me about this guy…What’s his name?”
Sniffing past her indignation, Baily muttered, “Harry.”
“Henry?”
“Harry. His name is Harry, and I’ve known him since I was ten. We grew up together. Dated in high school. Dated in college. Everybody assumed that we were going to get married. I wanted to experience a little more of the world before I settled down. My family was adamantly against me leaving. Harry was bothered, too. I guess.”
“You guess?”
Baily winced at the implication. “You have to know Harry. He’s the supportive, sensitive type.”
Groaning, Daniel stopped her. “Oh, please, spare me the sensitive man stories. Whoever put those two words together should be shot.”
Baily ignored his sarcasm and continued with her story. “Well, he is. So when I told him I wanted to move to Seattle, he said that was fine. He said he would wait and that he loved me. My parents weren’t nearly as supportive. They made me promise that if I wasn’t married by the time I was thirty that I would come home where I belonged and marry Harry.”
“You’re kidding. And that worked?”
“My birthday is in three weeks. My thirtieth birthday.”
Daniel issued ultimatums to Sarah all the time. They never worked. He needed Sarah and Red to meet. Maybe Red would rub off on her and—Scratch that thought.
“I don’t think I need to point out to you that you are an adult. You don’t have to obey your parents. Although I do respect the fact that you are honoring your word.” Daniel couldn’t think of a woman he knew that he would have ever described as honorable, yet it was a characteristic he admired greatly.
Finally, she thought, here was someone who understood what it meant to keep one’s word. However, Baily had to admit that it wasn’t the only reason she was heading east. “I wouldn’t break my word, that’s true. But I also think it’s time for me to get married. I want a home and children. A family. Harry can provide that. The truth is, having almost reached the age of thirty, I’m beginning to believe that true romantic love doesn’t exist.”
“Damn right!” Daniel agreed readily.
“Somehow I knew you would agree with me.”
He wasn’t exactly sure how he should take that statement. He decided it was a credit to his logical way of thinking. Therefore, it was obviously a compliment, and he thanked her.
Baily chuckled. A man like him would view her comment as a compliment. Maybe it was wrong to judge him so quickly without really knowing him. But his short brown hair, his clean-shaven jaw, his green polo shirt, and his crisp new blue jeans with a brown belt that matched his casual shoes said a lot about the man. He was the bottom line, the practical choice, and the reasonable solution type.
“What I meant,” Baily clarified herself, “is that love isn’t like the storybooks. It doesn’t hit suddenly. It isn’t passionate and fiery and out of control. Sure some people say they experience that. But how long does it last? Instead I’ve decided that love is like a warm comforter. Snugly. Cuddly. Secure. Harry and I will love each other and our children. It won’t be a story for the fairy tales, but then fairy tales are fiction. Harry and I are nonfiction.” Baily nodded her head with conviction. She was definitely doing the right thing. How could being part of warm loving family, one that she would help to create, be wrong?
“Very practical,” Daniel added. Not that he understood her need to be married and have children, but at least she wasn’t one of those women who believed love would make everything all right. However, the thought of Red trapped in a loveless, lifeless marriage didn’t sit well with him. He saw Red as the fiery, passionate type. She was the throw-everything-off-the-table, toss-her-skirt-over-her-head and take-her-hard-and-long type.
Oh, hell! Where did that thought come from? It was one thing to notice a woman’s chest in a T-shirt; it was another to envision that chest naked. No, he told a certain part of his anatomy.