The Texas Wildcatter's Baby. Cathy Thacker Gillen
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for more, she undressed him, too. Kneading, stroking, caressing. And only when she was writhing with passion, did he lower her to the bed and stretch out beside her.
Ginger’s eyes drifted shut as Rand parted her thighs and moved between them, creating ripples of yearning. She caught her breath as the sensations spread and pleasure flooded her in hot, irresistible waves, filling her with sensations unlike any she had ever known, and then there was no more holding back. He cupped her bottom and lifted her toward him, and took her slowly, sweetly.
Emotion overwhelming her, she wrapped her arms and legs around him, urging him on, taking him deeper and deeper. She gave him everything. He demanded more, as did she. And then there was nothing but the intense power of their connection that had them soaring, free, together, once again.
* * *
RAND FELT GINGER’S regret in the slight stiffening of her body, the way he always did as their passion ebbed and their breathing slowed. He wasn’t surprised when she extricated herself and slipped from the bed.
The bathroom door shut softly behind her.
He lay there, listening to the water run, and then all fell silent. He supposed she was using the time to get herself together. He couldn’t blame her. It had been one heck of a day, full of surprises. But in the end, they had achieved their goal, gotten married, and in the process, miraculously received the blessings of their families. Had this been a real marriage, they would have been over the moon with happiness.
But because this wasn’t the usual union, they had to deal with that, and somehow find a way to make it all work.
Figuring she’d been hiding out long enough, Rand got out of bed, pulled on his boxer briefs and walked across the suite. He rapped on the door. “Ginger?”
No answer.
“You okay in there?”
Again, no answer.
Beginning to panic a little, he eased open the door. Ginger was wrapped in a thick white spa robe and seated on the plush stool. She had one arm on the marble vanity in front of her. Her head was nestled in the crook of her elbow and turned toward him. Her breathing was soft and even. As he neared her, he saw the tears dampening her cheeks.
He touched her shoulder. “Ginger...”
She shifted, sinking ever deeper into slumber, and mumbled something incoherent.
Whether she accepted it or not, she needed to be in bed. Rand said her name once more, and when she did not wake, lifted her in his arms. He carried her to the bed and put her gently down, then walked around to the other side and slid in beside her.
Clearly she had her regrets. Suddenly he did, too. But he gathered her close anyway and wrapped his arms around her.
* * *
“YOU’RE SURE YOU want to do this today?” Rand asked the following afternoon.
They’d been on the go since early morning, managing not to talk about anything that had happened the day before, or how their wedding night had ended, at least for Ginger—in private tears and exhausted sleep. Rand, on the other hand, had lain awake most of the night, wondering how they were going to make this all work.
And not just in the public eye.
“I thought I’d made it clear that I do.” Ginger’s determination increased tenfold as his pickup approached Summit’s historic downtown.
The four-and-a-half-hour drive from Lake Laramie to the Trans-Pecos area of Texas had done nothing but energize her. “We need to get this postnuptial agreement done.”
Rand noted the vulnerability she had showed the day before had all but disappeared. And although he respected her strength, he resented the emotional distance she put between them every chance she got. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
“Agreed.”
“But?”
He kept his eyes on the Main Street traffic. “I think it could wait until next week. Especially since it’s just a formality.”
Ginger adjusted her sunglasses on the bridge of her nose. “I never put off to tomorrow what can be done today.”
Wasn’t that the truth? Rand thought, parking the truck.
The two of them entered the brick building that housed Michelle Anderson-Garner’s law office. The family law attorney, a willowy blonde in her late thirties, was waiting for them.
She took a seat opposite them in the conference room, and handed each a stack of forms and a pen.
“For this postnuptial agreement to be honored under Texas law, there must first be a full and fair disclosure of property and other financial aspects of each of your estates,” she began. “So, basically, I need a detailed list of every asset and every debt each of you has, as well as any you may have accrued together. We can even go over who gets custody of the family pet, if you have one.”
“What about kids?” Rand asked.
“Children are not covered under a prenuptual or postnuptial. Those issues are decided in family court.”
“Can other issues be included in the postnup?” Ginger queried.
Michelle paused. “Such as?”
“Rand and I have agreed to run our marriage like a business.”
“Okay...”
Ginger sat forward. “So I—we—were thinking of drawing up either a contract or bylaws that would detail how we are going to handle everything else.”
Since when? Rand wondered, taken aback.
“That way,” Ginger continued, “we wouldn’t have to fight about things unnecessarily. We would already know how and where we’re going to live, and so on.”
Like most lawyers, Michelle had a remarkable ability to maintain a poker face. But even this, Rand noted, seemed to throw her for a loop. Not that he could blame the attorney. He’d come here under the impression they were only going to talk about financials.
Oblivious to the stunned reactions of the others in the room, Ginger carried on. “To be truly effective, our marriage contract should cover who is going to cook, or do laundry. Or, maybe we each should be on our own for these types of mundane chores.”
Deciding as long as Ginger insisted on micromanaging all this, he might as well get what he wanted, too, Rand interjected casually, “The bylaws or marriage contract should also cover where we live. How many nights and days we can be apart at one time—or not be apart, as the case may be.” He flashed Ginger a satisfied grin as his next idea hit. “Since both our jobs require travel, maybe we should stipulate that we at least take jobs in the same county.”
Ginger’s brow furrowed. Clearly she hadn’t expected him to speak much at this meeting, if at all.
“Obviously we still have some things to work out...” she said.
“Privately,” Rand added curtly. “And yes, we do.”
Her spine stiffening, Ginger turned back to Michelle. “The point is, Rand and I have both already been divorced once. Neither relationship ended amicably, probably because we both went into those unions too naively. We’re determined not to make the same mistake again.” Ginger squared her shoulders. “Which is why we want to work all this out now.”
Having absorbed everything his wife had said, the attorney turned her attention to Rand. Clearly, Michelle wanted to know where he stood.
“I don’t want to spend all my time with Ginger fighting,” he admitted. “So if it will help to work out all this stuff now, then I’m all in.”
* * *
GINGER EXPECTED THE meeting would last for at least another hour. Instead, Rand suddenly thanked Michelle and promised to make another appointment as soon