Dani Wade - A Bride's Tangled Vows

He didn’t have an easy road ahead of him, but she had a feeling she’d just been chosen to pave his way.

Four

Christina enjoyed reading to Lily. Sometimes she would indulge in short verses from a book of poetry, magazine articles or a cozy mystery. Today the words from a story set in a small town like theirs eased over them both, until muffled bumps and bangs erupted from the adjoining room. She cocked her head, hearing more thumping sounds. A quick glance reassured her Lily was okay, so she set the book down and hurried through the dressing room.

The noise grew as she approached the door that led from Lily’s dressing room to Christina’s bedroom. What was going on?

Opening the door, she found herself facing a...wall? A mattress wall?

Going back through Lily’s suite to the other exit into the hallway only gave her time to get good and angry. Nolen stood outside Christina’s room, arms crossed over his chest. His closed stance matched his expression.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

Nolen shook his head. “That boy. Master Aiden always was one to get something in his mind, and that’s all she wrote....”

Alarm skittered through Christina. What was he up to? One step inside the disarray told her it was no good.

“Why are you rearranging the furniture in my room?” She didn’t care that her voice was high-pitched and panicked. He could not do this. He could not simply move himself in without permission.

Furniture had been shoved aside, her bed taken apart and general chaos reigned. In the midst of it all, Aiden stood, legs braced. He wore almond-colored cargo pants and a blue button-down, sleeves rolled up to expose muscled forearms with a sprinkling of dark hair. A masculine statue in purple girly land.

He nodded to the delivery guys. “I think I’ve got it from here.”

Christina practically vibrated as she waited for them to clear the room. Her eyes rounded and her throat tightened as the men took her old mattress with them.

“Thanks, Nolen,” she heard Aiden say before the door clicked closed. Then he resumed his autocratic stance nearby.

“Don’t you think we should have talked about this first?”

His insolent shrug matched his nonchalant attitude, which only upped her panic for some reason. “Why? You said you would go through with this for Mother.”

She wanted to scream, but held on to her control for a moment more. “Yes, but not sharing a bed.”

He was silent so long that she shifted uncomfortably. Finally, he said, “James will get his way—you said that yourself.”

“But if we give him the marriage, maybe—”

“He doesn’t want this half-done, Christina. You know that. But I’m not going to force you to do something you don’t feel comfortable with.”

She raised her brows, pointedly surveying her disheveled room. “It seems like that’s exactly what you’re doing. I’m definitely not comfortable with this.”

“We each have a side. I’ll keep my clothes and stuff upstairs, out of your way. This doesn’t have to be any more intimate than two people sleeping beside each other.”

She wanted to study his face, see if he really believed that, but she couldn’t scratch up the nerve. Instead, she concentrated on maintaining what small modicum of grace she still possessed.

“Look,” Aiden said, “if we’re gonna do this, we’ve got to be all in. Either that, or get out now.”

Christina glanced at the door to Lily’s room. “No. I’m in,” she conceded. But as she turned back to measure the queen-size mattress dominating her small room, she had to ask, “Couldn’t you have bought two twins?”

His grin should be illegal. “Where’s the fun in that?”

* * *

Christina shoved leaden limbs through the armholes of her nightgown and dragged it on. The day had been long, and an even longer, probably restless night lay ahead. Her emotional turmoil was compounded by worries over Lily, James’s health, the bargain she’d agreed to and Aiden...always Aiden. Nicole had testing to keep her away for the next two days, but Christina looked forward to the nonstop vigil Lily’s care required. Sometimes she wished taking care of Lily were a bit more labor intensive. It might help her think a whole lot less.

Her sigh echoed around her tiny bedroom. Soon she’d be the wife of Aiden Blackstone. The cocktail of fear, desire and worry bubbling through her veins might just be enough to keep her awake until then.

But hopefully not. She stared at the new queen-size bed that consumed more than its fair share of real estate. Great, another worry. How in the world could she share a bed with Aiden Blackstone?

Long moments spent unable to imagine such a thing convinced her to worry about it another day. Instead, she settled in and let lethargy weigh her into the mattress. Please, just a few hours of oblivion.

But before she could drift off, she heard a sound from Lily’s room. Christina’s heavy head lifted. Again, that shuffling sound. Muffled by the dressing room that connected her to the suite, but there nonetheless. Had Nolen or Marie come to check on Lily before retiring?

A grimace twisted Christina’s lips as she pulled herself out from the warm nest under her covers. In the two years since Lily’s stroke, she’d often heard noises from her friend’s room. Sometimes the others came to say good-night. Sometimes a branch from the oak tree outside had scraped against the window. Sometimes she heard just the creaks and groans of a house that had seen a lot of living.

Each time, a small part of Christina’s heart hoped it was her friend. That Lily had woken up and would walk in here to gift one of her gentle hugs and tell Christina she was okay. That she wasn’t responsible for what had happened.

But it never came to be—and that broke Christina’s heart.

A muffled voice sounded through the partially closed door of the dressing room, and Christina slowed, not wanting to interrupt. As she paused, the words “Hey, Mom,” barely floated in and her feet rooted to the floor. Aiden? To her knowledge, he hadn’t been to see his mother since he’d come to Blackstone Manor. But she’d hoped. Someday.

She knew she should leave, give him some privacy. Instead, she found herself easing up to the door and peeking through the opening into the room beyond.

Aiden hunched forward in a chair just on the far edge of the faint illumination from the night-light. Even in the deep shadows she recognized his long, solid build. His head hung low, and his shoulders slumped, as if a weight of emotion dragged him down. He remained silent for long moments, not moving, almost not breathing. It was hard to reconcile him with the virile man who had confronted her on the stairs days ago. Or who’d stood his ground against the derision of Jason and his crew.

Her thoughts cut off as he looked up, gifting her with the sight of his strong features and stubble-lined jaw. It intrigued her, that small sign of weariness, that little mark of imperfection on a man usually so perfectly groomed. Would it scratch her skin if he kissed her? His deep-set eyes barely glittered in the darkness, lending to the mystery, the hushed intimacy of the moment.

“I screwed up, Mom,” he said, surprising Christina with not only his words but his matter-of-fact tone. “I left here a kid, full of anger and pride. I had no idea what that would cost me, cost us. But especially you.”

He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it in spiky disarray instead of sculpted artistry. “You didn’t blame me then, and you probably don’t blame me now. That’s the kind of person you are. But I blame me. Boy, do I—”