Page 5 of Say Yes

“I know.” He gave her a teasing look. “I remember.”

Dropping into her own chair, Sara propped her elbows on the table and covered her face with her hands. It all seemed so ridiculous now, but at the time…“I still can’t believe I barged through your house, swinging a rake and raving like a lunatic. It was so unlike me. I’ve never before indulged in such a fit, no matter what the provocation.”

She heard a low choked sound, and peeked from between her fingers to see Gavin trying to contain his humor. “What?”

He shrugged, then mumbled around his chuckles, “I was just thinking of the strain you must have been under, keeping all that explosive emotion bottled up.”

“I’m not an emotional person.”

He sputtered, then lost the fight to keep from laughing. Dropping her hands, she scowled at him, but that only served to make him laugh all the more. At her. She felt renewed humiliation and jerked to her feet, her eyes narrowed on his face. “Go home, Gavin!”

He caught her wrist and tugged her close despite her resistance, trying to rid himself of his smile, and failing. “Ah, Sara. If you could have seen your face that day! It was damn impressive. Outrage and indignation and a good dose of evil intent…Hell, for a second there, you terrified even me. I thought about running for cover along with Karen! But with you shouting accusations and threats so horrid my ears rang, it didn’t take me long to realize what had happened, and—”

“And you were amused.”

He sobered instantly. “No.” Squeezing her fingers, he held her hand close to his side. “I was relieved. You were too good for that jerk and I was glad you realized it before you married him and ruined everything.”

Feeling perverse, partly because she didn’t understand him, and partly because he was still smiling, she said, “You hardly knew Ted.”

“Wrong. I’d spoken with him several times, though not nearly as much as you and I talked. He was a worm. Believe me, Sara, you’re better off without him.”

She scowled, thinking of Ted’s empty promises, and her empty house. Her own gullibility. She’d wanted to be wanted so badly, she’d been willing to be duped by Ted.

Now she merely felt like a fool. “He worked hard to convince me to marry him.”

Gavin tilted his head, his eyes intent. “Whatever he told you was probably lies.”

She knew that now. Ted hadn’t really cared about her at all. Big surprise. “He said we’d make the perfect couple, that love was something that came over time. We were too old to be frivolous, to wait for the kind of relationship you see in movies and read about in books. He said he was as alone and lonely as me, and he convinced me he wanted the same things. A secure home, a lasting relationship. So we approached this wedding business in a logical, no-nonsense fashion. We discussed up-front who would be responsible for various things, and what was expected of each of us. We had the future all mapped out.”

Gavin was attentive, staring at her, seemingly fascinated.

She tried to ignore his hold on her wrist, the warmth of his palm and the way his scent made her toes curl. “Ted broke nearly every promise he made. I still wonder why he wanted to marry me in the first place.”

“What promises?”

Trying to act indifferent, she shrugged. “You mean apart from the promises to be faithful and act honorably and to stick around through thick and thin?”

Gavin watched her with compassion, and she hated it. She knew she sounded like a woman scorned, but a part of her still felt betrayed, not by Ted, because he didn’t really matter, not anymore. But by her own foolish hopes for things that either didn’t exist, or else weren’t meant for her.

She sucked in a slow, calming breath. “Part of the deal was that I’d buy the house, and he’d furnish it.” She lifted her free hand to indicate her almost barren kitchen. A small, aged Formica table and two chairs sat in the middle of the floor. They were ugly and looked totally out of place in the exquisite kitchen Gavin had constructed. The rest of the house was the same, the rooms either near-empty or “furnished” with used, mismatched pieces.

“As you can see, Ted left before furnishing anything. Even the backyard is barren, and I’d really wanted a porch swing and a pet and a picnic table.” She sighed. “I’d thought this could be a real home. Instead it’s just an empty shell.”

Gavin leaned back, one dark brow raised high. “Let me get this straight. You were willing to hook up for life with a bastard like Ted just for some lawn furniture?”

Sara blinked. Put that way, it did sound rather foolish. Not that he understood it all. She had planned to be a good wife, to do whatever it took to make the marriage work. She’d wanted kids and Christmas, family budgets and a family car. She’d even wanted the struggles that came with maintaining family unity.

She’d gotten nothing but a severe dent to her pride.

She hadn’t loved Ted, but she had liked him, and she’d been willing to put every effort into making a solid marriage.

But how could she explain all that to Gavin? He was a man who never wanted for companionship, a man who had his pick of women ready to stand by his side. He would never consider accepting a woman he didn’t really want, just for something as base as companionship.

“So everything wasn’t perfect,” she allowed, “I thought we could manage. We would have grown closer with time. We could have made it work.” She took a deep breath and mumbled, “I still think the least Ted could have done was furnish a room or two before he ruined everything.”

Gavin shook his head. “You can get what you need later, without his help. Be glad you didn’t marry him. It would have been a disaster.”

He seemed so vehement. But then, that was one of the things that had drawn her to him, his self-assurance and confidence. “You don’t understand, Gavin. You’ve never had any desire to be married.”

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