Dance Away with Me(76)

Chapter Sixteen




Ian straightened from the fireplace and gave her his patented half-lidded glare. “I don’t like your attitude.”

“My attitude?”

“‘Getting this marriage thing off the ground.’ It makes it sound like a job on your To Do list.”

Maybe it was. Once this was behind them, she might be able to relax again. “You want to be seduced? I can do that.”

“And do it very well, I’m sure.” He propped an elbow on the roughly hewn fireplace mantel. “As you’ve told me several times.”

This wasn’t going the way it should. She felt as clumsy as one of the teenagers who kept showing up at the door. “I’m not sure what you want.”

“I know you aren’t.” He crossed his ankles, his smile bordering on smug.

He’d unbalanced her, and she didn’t like it. “Do you want to do it or don’t you?”

“There it is again. That vicious frown of yours.”

“That’s it!” She stomped toward the stairs. “I’m done with whatever game this is. If you want me, come get me. Otherwise, you can go to hell!”

*

He watched her—the luscious Widow Hartsong—storm upstairs. She was furious with him, and he was furious with himself. From the day they’d met, he’d wanted her. And here she was—all ready to give herself over, and what did he do? He put the brakes on. Not once, but twice! Any other man would have gone ahead with it, but not him. Why? Because he was an oversensitive asshole, that’s why.

But he didn’t want sex to be one more responsibility she had to undertake, like all the rest of the responsibilities she’d assumed. For Wren, for the teens, apparently for Kelly Winchester. And now for fucking him.

Overhead, he heard Wren start to wail. And wasn’t that perfect? A howling baby, teenagers banging at the door, people bleeding all over his dining room table, and topping it off, he was now something he’d never remotely imagined. A married man. Tempest hadn’t been a refuge for him. It had been a goddamn disaster!

He followed her upstairs and entered the closest of the two bedrooms. This one had a slanted ceiling, a pair of windows, peeling floral wallpaper, and minimal furniture: a bed, nightstand, and chest of drawers. Tess was walking Wren around the room. He spoke over the baby’s wails. “The Dennings are stopping by soon. They want to set eyes on the happy newlyweds.”

Tess’s anger faded into worry. “You’ve talked to them?”

“Earlier this morning. Diane feels marginally guilty for pushing us to get married so quickly, but I think they’re both relieved not to have full-time responsibility for Wren.”

“They’re really going to let me keep her?”

“It looks that way.”

“What about Wren’s father? He could change his mind.”

Wren cried louder.

“They seem certain that won’t happen. It’ll take a while to make everything official, but as long as you guarantee them reasonable visitation privileges, I don’t think they’ll stand in your way.”

While she was trying to absorb that, he dipped into his pocket and pulled something out. “You’re going to need this.” As he opened his palm she saw a ring. A little over a quarter of an inch wide, it was handmade from what looked like copper electrical wire. “I didn’t have much to work with, but you need something to wear in front of them.”

He’d looped and braided the wire, creating intricate spirals and unexpected twists. It was exquisite. The work of an artist.

“It’s beautiful.” She took it from him and only hesitated for a moment before she slipped it on the same finger where she’d once worn a thin platinum band. The ring was light on her hand, with every rough edge smoothed. “This is costing you a fortune.”

“I found the wire in the toolshed out back.”

“Not the ring.” She shifted Wren in her arms, still trying to calm her. “The lawyers. Everything.”

“Forget about it. Otherwise, you’ll start tallying up how much more time you have to spend on your back servicing me.”

Her eyes flashed thirteen different kinds of fireworks. “What am I supposed to do, Ian? Tell me. I owe you everything! How am I supposed to repay that?”

“First step . . . Stop being so annoying!” He strode toward her. “Now give me that baby. You’re getting her all riled up again.” He snatched the wailing little hellcat from her and headed for the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Tess cried as he reached the bottom step. “Wait for me!”

He looked down at Wren, who had abruptly stopped crying. “Your mother is only crazy part of the time. You’ll probably be fine.”

*

The meeting with the Dennings went better than Tess could have hoped. By the time they left, she and Diane were both in tears, and Tess had promised herself she’d make certain Wren had the relationship with them they all deserved. The baby was nearly hers.

She slipped her finger inside Wren’s curled hand. The puffiness of the baby’s eyelids had disappeared, and the tiny white milia around her nose were gone. The flood of love rushing through Tess was like a river whose current moved so swiftly it dislodged all the debris that had accumulated beneath its surface. Runaway Mountain had given her a new life. Despite the hostility of the town and the memory of the awful night she’d lost Bianca, she wanted to stay here. To watch Wren grow up in the mountain’s sunlight and shade. The sweet weight of this child in her arms, the child she was now responsible for . . . This was her new life.