The Sometime Bride

at her temple. “Of the loving fiancé.”
    Carrie blinked as her world went cold and hot. Hot and cold. No, wait! Her palms were sweating, but her belly was a pit of ice.
    “Carrie, darling!” An elderly lady with more salt than pepper in her short curly hair scuttled over and wrapped frail arms around the two of them.
    “Wilson,” she proclaimed, beaming up at Mike and whacking him soundly on the shoulder. “I do declare, you are a hunk!”
    Somewhere in the heat of the moment, Carrie found her tongue. Which was, dammit, stuck to the roof of her mouth.
    “Grandmother!” Mike exclaimed, lifting the 110-pound woman into the air with his bear-hug embrace. “It’s so good to finally meet you.”
    Well, now, Carrie thought, Mike was carrying things a little far. Paulette was one thing, but…
    Mike set Grandma Russell down as she reached up and pinched his cheek. “He is a doll, Carrie! An absolute doll! Just somehow I never pictured him as a blond. You should have told me he looked like Robert Redford but green-eyed, young, and sexy.”
    Mike laughed out loud but felt his ears tinge hot just the same. Though he was used to compliments from women, up until now, most of those offering their rabid appreciation had been under fifty.
    “Come on, darling,” Grandma Russell said to Mike. “Let me show you off…” She gave a little chuckle. “Show you around, that is. Carrie’s aunties are all dying to meet you.”

    Carrie swirled the ladle nervously around the near-empty punch bowl. The shower had gone off without a hitch. She and Mike—uh, Wilson—had even gotten some lovely gifts. A blender, cooking utensils. Towels. All the nice little odds and ends that help make a newlywed house a home. This wasn’t such a good idea, after all. In fact, it was terrible. So many people had gone to so much time, trouble, and expense. Even Nellie’s place cards were beautiful. A keepsake for the happy couple. Carrie frowned at her murky reflection centered in the twirling ice ring.
    And to make matters worse, Mike had been an absolute champ. Everybody adored him implicitly. He’d been warm, witty, and charming the whole afternoon through. His act as her fiancé had almost even seemed real; at least his hugs and affectionate glances had seemed authentic enough. And those few unexpected kisses, though innocent enough in their placement — one at her temple, one on the back of her hand, the one at her neckline… Well, all right, maybe the one at her neck hadn’t seemed quite so innocent in intent as the others. But still, no matter where his kisses had landed, each time Mike had surprised her with the warm contact of his lips, her world had caved in and her heart had let go. Let go of any notion that this thing between them was little more than make-believe. Because, though words could deceive, feelings seldom lied, and when Mike brought his flesh to hers… Carrie dropped the ladle into the punch bowl as goose bumps tore down her spine.
    Carrie felt the hair swept from her nape. “Ready to leave?” Mike whispered, bringing his mouth close to her ear.
    Carrie turned in surprise and found herself directly in his arms, her backside pinned against the table that held the punch bowl. “Never,” she said, bringing her arms up and around his neck and pulling him in close as their lips melded in the final consummation of what they’d both been desiring all afternoon.
    “Why don’t you kids run on home?” Grandma Russell asked, blinking the dining room chandelier on and off above them.
    Mike pulled back in a damp sweat. “Let’s!” he said, giving Carrie a firm, virgin peck on the lips.

    Carrie sat in Mike’s car, anxiously fiddling with his radio and waiting for his return from the grocery store. Though he’d said he’d only be a minute, she could only guess at what he’d buy. Champagne? Wine and roses? Were things between them really moving that fast?
    And where on earth would they go? She wasn’t sure she was ready for Mike to see her place. Besides, she was totally unprepared for company, and her cottage was a total wreck. Though the setting, at the western edge of the county, was gorgeous, the inside of her home looked like it had been hit by a black tornado. If there was one thing Carrie didn’t do well, it was clean. Well, in truth, her laundry skills weren’t so hot either. All the whites always seemed to come out a weird shade of neon pink. Even after all this time, Carrie couldn’t figure out