Against the Edge (The Raines of Wind Can - By Kat Martin Page 0,111
his dear, handsome face. If she was ever going to do this, it had to be now. “A woman wouldn’t need to know how to shoot a gun if she were married to a man like you.”
His eyes shot to hers, assessing the look on her face. “It wouldn’t hurt. Like I said, you were good with the revolver. No reason you couldn’t handle a gun like this.”
She glanced away. “Maybe so.”
Ben grabbed her hand and dragged her down on his lap. “You’re talking about marriage. You’ve been thinking about it. Are you saying you’ll marry me?”
She kept her features even, determined to make it appear as if this were as unimportant as he had made it seem, but her insides were quaking. Saying yes to a man who didn’t love her was the most terrifying thing she had ever done. She took the same tone he had taken when he’d made his “practical” proposal.
Claire shrugged her shoulders. “We’re sleeping together anyway. It’s hard with Sam in the house.”
He shifted a little beneath her, letting her feel his arousal. “It’s hard with you in the house, angel.”
She couldn’t quite muster a smile. Her heart was throbbing dully, aching inside her chest. “I wouldn’t have to spend the money the insurance company is giving me to replace the furniture in my apartment. We could use some of it here, make things more comfortable for the three of us.”
“You could put it in the bank. I’d pay for anything you wanted to do to the house. I know it’s not very female friendly.”
Her heart was pounding. She could feel tears threatening behind her eyes. Dear God, she couldn’t cry. She didn’t want him to know how difficult this was for her.
“I wouldn’t change much,” she said casually. “Maybe just some ruffled curtains in the kitchen, a few things like that.”
“Maybe we’d sell this place and buy something bigger, give us a little more room.”
“Could we afford it?”
“We could.”
Her throat tightened. A bigger house wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted Ben to love her. “That...that might be a good idea.”
“What about next week?”
What did it matter? It was only the rest of her life.
“Sure.” She forced an upbeat note into her voice, but her heart was hurting, squeezing inside her chest. “We could go down to the courthouse on my lunch hour.”
She was going to cry if this didn’t stop. She’d always imagined a white wedding gown and an orchid bouquet, a flower girl and a ring bearer. Walking down the aisle on her father’s arm to join the man she loved at the altar. A man who loved her in return.
She thought of her parents and how disappointed they would be to miss her wedding. They didn’t even know Ben existed. She thought of the romantic honeymoon she had imagined, walking on the beach in the moonlight, drinking champagne and making love, and her heart squeezed even harder.
“We’d need someone to stand up with us,” Ben said.
“Maybe Sage and Jake.” Her voice sounded strained. She prayed Ben wouldn’t notice. “Or if they can’t, we could ask Trace and Maggie.”
“I’ll talk to them on Monday.” His eyes were on her face, pale eyes, cold some people said, but she knew they were hot as flame. Something shifted in his features, something was there that hadn’t been there before.
Maybe he was getting cold feet. Maybe he would save them both by saying no. “You still want to do it, right? Because if you’ve changed your mind—”
“Jesus! No, I haven’t changed my mind. I want us to get married. Are you saying yes?”
The lump in her throat was so big she wasn’t sure she could talk around it. She should be happy, but her chest was aching, her heart throbbing.
She loved him so much.
All Ben wanted was someone he enjoyed in bed and a mother for his son. “Yes.”
He stood up with her still in his arms. “You won’t be sorry, angel. I promise.”
But Claire was already sorry. She wanted a man who loved her with all his heart.
It didn’t matter.
She was going to marry Ben.
* * *
Monday morning, Claire sat behind her desk at the University District Neighborhood Center. Her job was to coordinate public relations for the different centers in the Houston area, supervise and train volunteers.
One of those volunteers, Carol Blankenship, the receptionist, walked into her office just as Claire’s cell phone started ringing. She picked it up off her desk, recognized Ben’s home number and pressed it against her ear.