A Drive-By Wedding. Terese Ramin
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Marcy would have had a ball with her and so would the rest of his siblings. The thought almost made him sober; the kidnappee with the odd sense of humor didn’t offer sobriety a chance to take root.
“Ah,” Allyn said, plainly pleased, leading the way to the section of apparel in question. “A man who intends to have children—unless you already have children?”
Laughter wheezed out of him, astonishment edged with painful humor. God, she was killing him, and the worst of it was, he was pretty sure he’d be more than happy to let her.
Especially if she continued to go about it like this.
“No. No children,” he said when he could speak. “No wife. No anything.” And no intention of ever having either, of getting close enough to anyone who could be taken away from him again.
“Probably a good thing,” Allyn said. “I can already see where you might be hell on a relationship of that sort.”
He should have been beyond amazement by now, but he wasn’t. “Do you always talk to strangers like this?”
“Only those who car jack me,” she told him, at the same time she supervised him to make sure he added an adequate number of boxer shorts to her cart. “Then I find it’s mandatory not to let them think they’ve ever got the upper hand. Take them by surprise, that’s what my stepfather says, keep them off balance, make them think you’re one with them. Makes it so much easier to get away when they won’t listen to reason and just take your car without you in it.”
With which pronouncement she left Jeth standing openmouthed in the aisle behind her while she sashayed ahead of him to men’s jeans.
He had to admit that, bust-him-in-the-chops personality or not, she had one hell of a spectacular sashay.
She floored him only once more during their shopping expedition. She stopped in front of the jewelry counter, looked at the wedding rings, then leaned into him for all the world like an excited wife who’d gone too long without and whispered for his—and the sales clerk’s—ears only, “It’s been almost three years since we eloped. We can afford them now, can’t we, honey?”
Torn between mirth and total disbelief, Jeth could only nod. Even as briefly as he’d known her, he should have realized that if she’d decided to play the part of family on vacation, she’d play it to the hilt, wedding rings and all.
With the two thoughts, Talk about one-stop shopping, and Judas, what have I gotten myself into?—which seemed to be his mantra of the day—he helped Allyn choose slim silver rings formed into Celtic knots, then on his own chose a small but lovely sapphire engagement ring that surprised genuine delight out of her and fit very neatly on her finger atop her wedding ring.
When she turned, raised herself on tiptoe and planted a shy kiss on his cheek, it was all Jeth could do to maintain his rather shaky equilibrium.
Allyn’s obvious giddiness over the unexpected addition of the engagement ring not only dumbfounded Jeth—who wanted to ask her about it then and there, but managed to refrain—but seemed to tickle the salesclerk, who mouthed, genuinely pleased for them, “Nice,” at Jeth over Allyn’s head, then offered them both congratulations and best wishes, and told them the rings would be waiting for them at the service desk when they were through shopping.
In the checkout line it appeared to be all Allyn could do to wait to get her hands on the rings once again—especially the sapphire—and Jeth could only watch her animated face and hope that maybe this trip he’d inadvertently arranged for them wouldn’t be complete hell after all.
When the cashier rang up nearly a thousand dollars’ worth of merchandise, he paid without any reluctance whatever.
Allyn couldn’t believe he’d thought of adding in the sapphire on his own.
More than that, she couldn’t believe she’d kissed him over a darned ring. For God’s sake, the man had stolen her, scared her, made her angry and ruined her vacation plans barely a couple of hours ago, and she’d kissed him?
His cheek was warm and bristly beneath her lips, with a slightly salty aftertaste—the result of his jog, she guessed. She’d liked the feel of it.
She’d also liked the feel of him when she’d leaned into him, stretched against him to kiss his cheek. That visceral recognition she’d experienced when she’d first seen him running at the side of the road was there in the flesh, enticing, hot.
And more than a little electrifying. And she knew all this because of one small, oval-cut sapphire circlet that now perched snugly on the third finger of her left hand.
She couldn’t help it. For reasons she could neither fathom nor have expected, Allyn saw Jeth differently than she had earlier. Perhaps that was normal. They’d spent a little time together. They’d shared an argument or two. They shared a single goal in the life of a lost child. But none of that really accounted for this.
When she’d paused at rings and considered the silver ones, she’d done so because silver wasn’t as expensive as gold, the idea of having matching rings had a practical side, she’d always loved playacting, and this little car jacking of Jeth’s was turning into her idea of theater of the finest kind. Also, her mother’s stories of how she had met Gabriel and forged a life with him had taught Allyn that sometimes desperate people did scary things for the right reasons. And although Allyn found herself having difficulty imagining Jeth’s alleged pursuing dangers as reality, she was having a grand time with everything else.
Of course, if Jeth had turned out to be a really badly dangerous guy…well, she was up hell’s creek. But at the moment she was going to fully enjoy the first ring any man—or even any boy—had ever chosen and given her. She’d cross hell’s creek when she came to it.
Now if only Sasha was all right.
She’d wanted to find a doctor for him first, but had settled for the shopping spree instead because, as she’d suggested to Jeth, if Sasha was cleaned up and they looked like a normal family on vacation, then they could visit any pediatrician and be found unremarkable in the extreme.
Unless, as Jeth pointed out darkly, the little boy was suffering from some extreme illness, or drugging, or abuse other than malnutrition that neither of them could see.
Which made it Allyn’s turn to point out that Jeth reminded her of her aunt Edith, the family disaster-monger. With Jeth’s black hair and looks and her brown hair and obvious Irish ancestry, it was quite apparent Sasha hadn’t actually been born to either of them. In which case he had to be adopted, recently and directly out of Russia.
Which meant, in Jeth’s estimation, that any doctor they saw in a small town in Maryland was sure to remember them clearly.
Unless, Allyn argued, they only told the story if they had to.
Since Jeth was equally as concerned about Sasha as she was, he conceded the round—reluctantly. Then he elicited a promise from her that if it began to look like they were going to have to tell a story, she would follow his lead, just in case he came up with something a whole lot less memorable on the spur of the moment. Because he, after all, was the one who’d come up with the rest of this…whatever this was on the spur of the moment and look how well it had worked so far.
His self-congratulatory tone made Allyn snort inelegantly, but keep her peace when he eyed her a dark admonishment of yeah, yeah, get over it and don’t remind me.
After a quick stop to pick up traveling grocery staples, they started searching for a doctor. Since it was Sunday, a doctor was difficult to find.
“Why don’t we ask someone?” Allyn said finally.
“Ask?” Jeth countered, teasing, continuing to drive. “For directions?”
“Cut the guy comedy,” Allyn told him firmly. “You don’t know where you’re going, and it’s for the good of the baby. Besides, we have to stop somewhere anyway so I can wash Sasha up and change his clothes so he looks like somebody cares about him.”