Susan Mallery - Dream Wedding

“Is there anywhere on this planet you haven’t been?” she asked.

“If you’re talking continents, I haven’t been to Antarctica. Otherwise, I would guess I’ve hit most of the major points.”

“Why am I not surprised?” She gave him a quick, sideways glance. “You can be a little intimidating,” she admitted. “I’ve interviewed fairly powerful people in the past. Government officials, celebrities. You’re the first one who has made me feel like the country mouse come to town for a visit.”

He leaned close. “You don’t look anything like a country mouse. In fact, there’s nothing rodentlike about you at all.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Gently, reluctantly, he thought, although that could just be wishful thinking on his part, she pulled her hand away from his. “Back to business,” she told him. “I have a lot more questions.”

“Ask away.”

“About your travels. From what I’ve been reading, most of them were financed privately. You don’t work with a particular foundation or for a university.”

“That’s true. There’s a rather impressive family trust fund that has paid my expenses. I’ve had opportunities to work for charitable organizations, helping them raise funds. I do that frequently. When I do guest lecture series I tend to donate my fees to the local children’s hospital and women’s shelters. I’ve done specific tours for museums, and then they keep the proceeds.”

“You don’t keep any for yourself?”

“I don’t have to.” At her look of confusion, he shrugged. “My family has a lot of money. I don’t need more so why wouldn’t I give some of it away?” He replayed his last couple of comments in his mind and frowned. “I’m not some do-gooder,” he said. “I was taught it was my place to give back. But don’t make me out to be a saint. I’m very much a man with as many flaws as the next guy.”

“I see.”

Her words didn’t give anything away, and he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. He almost didn’t want to know. Better to imagine she was thinking about being with him, touching him, holding him close. Because that was what he wanted her thinking. He wasn’t willing to explore the realization that it was much easier to deal with Chloe wanting him than her actually liking him.

* * *

THEY STOPPED AROUND one o’clock to take a break. Chloe let her backpack fall to the ground, then rotated her shoulders.

“Cassie warned me it was going to get heavier as we walked, but I didn’t believe her. I see now I was wrong.”

“Sore?” Arizona asked.

“I’ll survive.”

She watched him release his pack as if it weighed nothing. It had to be twice the size of hers, but then he was not only male and stronger, but used to this sort of thing.

The afternoon was warm, but not too hot. She eyed the clear sky. “I thought the Pacific Northwest was known for rain.”

“It is. Looks like we’re going to get lucky.” He hesitated just long enough for her breath to catch. “With the weather.”

“Of course,” she murmured. With the weather. What else? Certainly not with each other. It wasn’t her fault that she found the man wildly attractive. The more she got to know him, the worse it got. It wasn’t enough that he was good-looking. No, he had to be smart, funny and kind as well. She was going to have to be very careful when she wrote her article, or she was going to come off like some teenager with a major crush.

“Ready for lunch?” he asked.

He sat on a fallen log and reached for his backpack. Chloe settled next to him. She had two canteens hanging from her pack. They’d stopped at a rapidly flowing stream about a half hour before and refilled their water supply.

“Here you go.” He handed her two protein bars, a small plastic bag filled with what looked like cut-up dried vegetables and fruit, and an apple.

“Goody, five-star cuisine,” she said as she eyed what was supposed to pass for a meal.

“Don’t wrinkle your nose at me, young lady. There are plenty of vitamins and minerals there, along with enough calories for energy.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Usually she was more difficult to read. Was she so open around him, or could he just see inside of her? “I wasn’t complaining. This is different from what I’m used to. I don’t have your ‘bush’ experience. What with how you grew up and all.”

“It wasn’t like this,” he said as he stretched out his long legs in front of him and crossed them at the ankles. Worn jeans hugged his powerful thighs. “My grandfather didn’t believe in living with physical discomfort. We always traveled first-class.”

“There are a lot of places you can’t get a jet or a limo.”

“True. We used carts and camels, boats, whatever was necessary to get us where he wanted to go. But he arranged for the best. Plenty of staff along to handle the luggage and the details.”

Chloe tried to imagine that kind of life. On one hand, it sounded very exciting, but on the other she would miss having a place to call home.

“Did you like living like that?” she asked.

“I suppose every kid dreams of running away to live a life of adventure. I did that and more. I have experienced things most people just read or dream about. But there were things I missed.”

He stared into the grove of trees, but she knew he was actually seeing a past she could only imagine. How had his world and his life shaped him? What would he have been like if he’d grown up as the boy next door?

“I never had my own room, so I didn’t collect things the way a lot of kids do,” he said. “I didn’t have a lot of friends. In some places there weren’t boys my age around, or if there were, they were busy with school or helping the family. We moved around so much, I would just get to know someone and then it would be time to leave.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” she admitted. “It sounds lonely.”

“Sometimes it was. I had tutors. They were usually with us for a couple of years at a time, so that was something I could depend on.” He shrugged. “Growing up like that is all I know. I can’t pass judgment on it without something to compare it to. I don’t think it was better or worse, just different. I experienced the world from a different point of view. If we planned to settle in one place for a few months, I usually enrolled in the local school.”

He looked at her and grinned. “When I was a teenager I used to complain about not having fast food or high school girls around.”

“So despite everything, you were very normal.”

“I like to think so.” His smile faded. “I always wanted a brother or sister. Someone around my own age to talk to and be with. Grandfather tried, but he wasn’t a peer. I envy you and Cassie for being so close.”

She couldn’t imagine anything in her rather dull life that someone like Arizona would be interested in, but the idea of a sibling made sense.

“She’s my best friend,” she said. “We’re so different, we can’t help arguing sometimes, but none of that really matters. We love each other so much.”

“It shows.” He ripped open the protective covering on one of his protein bars and took a bite. After chewing he asked, “So how are you different?”

She nibbled the dried vegetables and found they tasted better than they looked. “You have to ask? Cassie is a dreamer. She believes in fairy tales and magic.”

“That’s right. And you’re the completely practical one.”

“Exactly. She wants a very traditional life. Husband, children, a home.” She stopped talking and pressed her lips together. A home. The house. That beautiful Victorian house that their parents had left to her instead of leaving it to the two girls equally.