Lisette Belisle - The Wedding Bargain

The mechanic introduced himself. “Hi, I’m Walt.”

Olivia smiled that megawatt smile. “How do you do, Walt?”

Now the mechanic had a name.

Drew liked him less and less.

The door opened wider.

Olivia hid her pleasure at Drew’s return, instinctively protecting herself until she could control her response. Half-asleep, she’d heard the sound of an engine, at first surprised, then relieved to see Drew. Perhaps that was why her heart was racing. Despite all the inner alarm bells issuing a warning, she liked him.

And he was proving more dependable than a lot of men.

Could he be the solution to all her problems?

“Won’t you come in?” She tried to focus her attention on the mechanic, deeply aware of Drew when he moved to stand near the fireplace, unbuttoning his jacket, then leaning his shoulder against the mantel. “Do you think you can fix my car, Walt?”

Entering the rustic cabin, Walt took off his hat. “That’s what we have to talk about. I replaced the battery—that’s part of the problem, but not all. I can get new parts, but it will take a day—or two.”

“Are the parts expensive?”

Walt named his price, assuring her it was fair. “In the meantime, I can give you a lift to town. Don’t know if you’ll find a room, though. Things are pretty well booked up with tourists.” He scratched his head. “Wish I could be more help.”

Mentally calculating the cost of parts, plus labor, plus towing costs—the list kept growing—Olivia knew she could afford a motel room or car repairs, but not both.

“I suppose we could stay here.” She glanced at Drew. “I mean, we are here. And there’s no sense looking for a place for just one night, is there?” When he raised an eyebrow, she rushed on. “It’s warm and dry.” And free. “What do you think?”

Drew shrugged. “Guess that settles it.”

Olivia smiled in relief. “Guess so.”

For a moment, their gazes met, a head-on collision. Olivia flushed at the expression in his eyes. Odd how they could agree so completely, yet leave so many questions unanswered.

“Well, if you’re sure,” Walt said a moment later when he turned to leave.

“We’re sure,” Drew said dryly.

Walt gave Drew a lift back to the car to get his backpack and Olivia’s one piece of luggage, which she’d brought in case she’d decided to stay overnight in Bangor. Drew couldn’t help wishing she had—they might never have met.

After seeing Walt off, Drew walked back to the cabin, where he turned on the generator before going inside. He found Olivia asleep on one of the cots. She’d removed all but the white tailored shirt and set her clothes out to dry.

Wrapped in a blanket, cocooned, with her arms curled around a pillow, she looked so young. Pale shadows lined her eyes; she looked exhausted. Yet she’d never complained. Not once. Her insistence on looking at the bright side of the situation was almost comical. It was also touching.

Tearing his gaze away, Drew frowned, not liking the direction of his thoughts. He looked around the room. She’d found some sheets and a blanket and made up his cot. It looked narrow, meant for one, not all that inviting.

With a weary sigh, Drew took off his jacket, then stripped down before he dropped onto the cot. It felt lumpy and hard, but he’d slept on worse. He closed his eyes. A room, at least fifteen feet wide, separated him from Olivia.

A warm fire crackled in the grate. A log fell. Wind battered the small log building. Rain hit the metal roof. Then there was Olivia.

He could hear her breathing.

How the hell was he supposed to sleep?

Hours later the sun poured through the dusty windows.

Olivia awoke, disoriented at first, to find herself wrapped in her wool blanket, instead of her familiar quilt. Her face flushed with heat when her gaze landed on her roommate. Drew was asleep. He lay flat on his back. With the morning light pouring through the window, Olivia took in his broad shoulders, his broad muscled chest covered with coarse dark hair.

Black stubble covered his chin. His facial features were perfectly aligned, almost too beautiful for a man, except for the strength in his square jaw. In sleep he looked younger, more vulnerable, but his brow was wrinkled in a frown, as if his dreams brought him no peace.

Hastily Olivia looked away, aware that she’d invaded some private area. Somehow she knew he wouldn’t appreciate the intrusion.

At the sight of her small overnight case on the table, Olivia rose, picked up the case and tiptoed from the room. The night before, she’d discovered a utilitarian bathroom. She flipped on a light switch, pleased to note that Drew must have turned on the generator, which meant there was hot water.

Olivia showered in the small metal cubicle, then dressed in the clothes she’d worn yesterday to impress her lawyer with her maturity. She needn’t have bothered. He’d advised her to find a husband, adding, “A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t have a problem.” Like most men, he refused to look past the feminine package.

Admittedly she was guilty of using that package to her advantage on occasion, but she had no respect for men she could manipulate, which was one more reason to appreciate Drew Pierce. She knew he was attracted to her, but he seemed equally determined not to do act on it. Olivia slowly buttoned her shirt.

She couldn’t deny the obvious—Drew Pierce could be the solution to all her problems. Since he was “just passing through” as he put it, she wondered if he’d be willing to stick around Henderson long enough to attach his name to a marriage certificate.

There was no provision in the will stating they had to live together. In six months the marriage could be annulled. No strings and no one would get hurt.

She wondered if Drew could be bought, then recoiled at the idea of even asking him to marry her. But what if? What if she asked and what if he said yes? She trembled. Would she be willing to pay the price?

In her heart, the part of her that always remained carefully guarded, Olivia knew that marriage should be a permanent bond, but things didn’t always work out as they should.

From what she knew about Drew’s past, she doubted if he had many romantic illusions that might get in the way, or many scruples, for that matter. But then, what did she know about him? His critics were harsh, but she sensed there was more to him than gossip revealed.

Perhaps it was unwise, but she couldn’t deny that something in Drew aroused her sympathy. Her stepfather had been a cop. She’d had enough exposure to the criminal justice system to know that it broke some men. She wondered how Drew had survived it. Had it left him hurt and wounded in some way? Did that account for his long silences, his lack of warmth?

Olivia turned away, uncomfortable with the thought, and headed into the kitchen. She reached for a pot and started to hum….

Drew awoke abruptly.

He wasn’t sure what had disturbed him. But his first thought was that this was day four. His fourth day of freedom! With his eyes closed, he could hear the blessed sound of silence. It was interrupted by the sound of a woman’s soft humming.

Drew frowned, recalling his present situation—all the inconveniences, delays and disruptions—and they all had to do with Olivia DeAngelis. He could hear her puttering around the kitchen, opening cupboards, rattling pots and pans. When a teakettle whistled, he almost jumped out of his skin.

With a groan, Drew pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt. Not in the mood to face Olivia’s early-morning chirpiness, he slipped out the front door.

The storm had cleared the air. The air was cool and crisp and dry. The breeze felt good. Drew raised his gaze to the treetops scraping a brilliant blue sky. The sun filtered through, setting the maple leaves on fire. Nature’s celebration.