The Sometime Bride

cracked up to be? If that was still what he so desperately wanted, why hadn’t he already cashed in that ring—or called the jewelers, at least, to make arrangements.
    Mike walked to the mirror hanging above his dresser, realizing the startling truth. There were simply far too many things holding him to Virginia. His dad, of course, was currently on his own. But eventually, he’d need more personal looking after. Mike had already done some investigating. Private-care arrangements were expensive. No way could Mike realistically budget for those and still be able to sink money into starting a new business.
    And then there was Carrie to think of. Carrie St. John, the woman who’d admitted with a full heart that she loved him and whom his own raging insides told him he loved back. And yet Mike hadn’t been able to find the words to tell her. Perhaps because he was still coming to terms with the concept himself. Or maybe, more critically, because he believed on a superstitious level that, by admitting his feelings, he would somehow jinx what was happening between them.
    In spite of his track record, Mike had never told any woman he loved her. Not even, surprisingly, Alexia. Adore, yes. Worship, on occasion. But love? Those three little words had never slipped from his mouth. And the reason for this was crystal clear, Mike saw, looking in the mirror.
    The day he finally uttered those words would be the day he was prepared to ask a woman to be his wife—and really mean it. None of this marriage of convenience BS or racing to beat any sort of artificial time clock. Just a true, honest desire to share the here and now, and forever after, with the woman of his dreams.
    Mike’s eyes dropped to Alexia’s ring, glistening on the dresser top. Maybe returning it wasn’t what he needed to do after all. Perhaps that was what the hesitancy in his gut about taking back the ring had been trying to tell him all along.
    Mike walked to his nightstand and picked up the telephone to call the jewelers—with one very important question.

    Carrie reached behind her and zipped the back of her red-sequined dress. She straightened and studied her reflection in the mirror, hoping she wasn’t going overboard. The plunging neckline, though not untasteful, still might be a little much.
    Carrie held a couple of dangling earrings up to her lobes and considered the picture. A little too uptown? Licentious, even? The lady in red…
    Carrie walked to her closet on her tiptoes, carefully lifting the hem of her dress off the polished oak floor. With heels on, the length was perfect. And the height difference between her and Mike certainly allowed for any size heel Carrie desired.
    With Wilson standing five foot ten, only two inches above her own five eight, she’d always had to be more careful.
    Carrie stopped considering the two pairs of shoes in her hands and realized for the first time she hadn’t thought of Wilson in days. Of course, she’d mentioned him in her conversation with her grandmother. But, in truth, even in speaking his name then, she’d thought more of his imitator Mike than Wilson himself. In fact, it appeared Wilson had been replaced entirely by Mike Davis.
    Oh dear. Carrie made her shoe choice, then gripped her hem and tiptoed back over to the bed, wondering if this was good. She’d warned herself sternly about the rebound thing. But surely this wasn’t what this was. It was fate, a preordained opportunity—just like Grandma Russell had said. And if she ever thought of Wilson Haywood again, she conceded, it would have to be in gratitude. For had he not dumped her on precisely that day at precisely that time, she wouldn’t have wandered down to that pool.
    Carrie sighed, recalling her startling introduction to her “swim god.” Not nearly as dramatic as what had happened to her grandmother but certainly unforgettable in its own special way. Carrie would never forget how Mike had taken her breath away when he rose from the water, dripping wet, insinuating moisture racing down every trail of his muscular body.
    Carrie swallowed and sat to slip on her shoes. Well, maybe the dress was a little showy. But she’d clearly seen enough of Mike that he deserved reciprocation.
    Carrie blushed at the notion that he found her beautiful. That he found her body enticing, alluring…feminine. Not only had he failed to mention her “figure flaws,” he, in his manly appreciation, appeared totally unaware they existed.
    Carrie slid in