The Sometime Bride

for maybe the part about me being a good time…”
    Carrie’s knees went weak at that thought, as his overpoweringly male scent washed over her in ocean waves.
    Trying to fight her natural attraction to Mike Davis, she decided, was a losing battle.
    And when he claimed her mouth with his, she knew it wasn’t only battles they were talking. They were playing for the highest stakes. Every ounce of her hurting interior was at war with what her body was doing. Reveling in, encouraging, his bittersweet, luxurious kisses. Carrie wasn’t even sure it was legal to kiss that well. Especially in the state of Virginia. Where exactly was that turnip truck, anyway? Carrie wondered, feeling herself spiral further and further away into the magic of Mike’s embrace.
    “Carrie,” Mike said, pulling back, “maybe we ought to find someplace more private…”
    A fanning burn in her throat prevented her from answering. She was hot and tipsy, his raging fire still tearing through her like the strongest scotch whiskey. And this was a drink she wanted straight up. No ice.
    Mike bucked as the icy chill raced through his sports coat and centered in on his spine.
    “Oh! Oh, my goodness!” the befuddled voice called behind him as a hard metallic clank echoed from somewhere near his feet. Cold water sloshed forward, followed by a parade of ice cubes. Mike whirled to find the red-faced young woman who’d just poured her champagne bucket down his back.
    “Oh, gracious!” she continued to babble, kneeling to scoop the miraculously intact bottle of champagne of the brick walk. “I’m so sorry! Must have run straight into—”
    From just over his shoulder, a woman erupted in raucous laughter.
    Mike spun to find Carrie cupping a hand over her mouth as her whole upper body quaked with mirth.
    If only he’d known what she’d been thinking! What was it about Mike Davis, Carrie wondered, that always seemed to attract him to water? Or vice versa, Carrie thought, exploding once again in giggles.
    Mike ignored the woman at his feet, busily scooping ice cubes back into her silver bucket, and kept a watchful eye on Carrie as he stealthily removed his dripping sports coat and shook it out at arm’s length.
    “Feeling all better, I see,” he said, cocking one eyebrow and looking— what? Carrie wondered—amused at her amusement?
    “Sir, I—”
    “Don’t worry about it,” Mike said, nearly deaf to the stranger’s apologies as he stooped to gather ice cubes and toss the cleaner ones back into the bucket. “Accidents happen.” But what had happened between him and Carrie just now hadn’t been an accident at all. For the briefest moment, she’d been all his. And it had been wonderful. So wonderful he’d been itching to continue things on an even more intimate level back in his room. And now—this.
    Finally, their embarrassed interloper straightened and made off with her champagne. Carrie, Mike noticed, still looked as if she was going to burst into hysterics at any moment.
    “I—” She sputtered a laugh, then stopped and collected herself. “I am feeling much better, thank you. But you’re—all wet…”
    “Nothing that I haven’t been before,” he assured her, holding up his jacket to examine it in the moonlight. “I’m sure my clothing and I will survive.”
    To her embarrassment, Carrie’s stomach growled loudly.
    “Still hungry?” Mike asked, feeling for the ice cube that had wedged itself between his belt and waistband at the small of his back and plucking it free.
    Carrie giggled again as he offered it as further proof of his ordeal.
    Carrie lifted the ice cube from his palm and hurled it into the darkness. “Starved. But how about you? Don’t you think you’d better, uh…change?”
    “Change?” Mike grinned. “Thought you were starting to like me just the way I am.”
    Carrie felt herself color from head to toe. “You, Mike Davis, are—”
    He cocked one eyebrow and waited.
    “—a very nice man,” she finished, feeling renewed heat in her cheeks.
    Mike chuckled and brought a tender hand to her face. “Ah, Carrie. Yes. And you, my dear, are very—sweet.”
    Mike leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the forehead, something akin to affection sparkling in his eyes. No man had ever looked at Carrie like that before. With hunger, anticipation, yes. But this was a different sort of appreciation altogether, and it warmed her through and through.
    “Want to see if dinner’s still on the table?” he