The Best Bride. Сьюзен Мэллери

snuggle against Elizabeth’s warm naked body and savor the moments while he had them. But he couldn’t. Not yet. Not when he’d finally realized how hard it was going to be to let her go.

      * * *

      “It’s a fumble on the twenty-yard line. Dallas recovers and runs it in for a touchdown. San Francisco is now down by fourteen points.”

      Travis groaned and reached for the remote. He hit the mute button and sank back against the couch. Mandy looked up from her place on the floor where she was working on a jigsaw puzzle.

      “Is your team doing bad, Travis?” she asked.

      “They’re getting their fannies kicked.”

      “Really?” She glanced toward the TV screen. “I don’t see anyone kicking fannies.”

      He chuckled. “Hopefully it won’t happen again.”

      She abandoned her puzzle and climbed into his lap. “I’ll make you feel better,” she said and gave him a hug. “They’re magic, just like yours.”

      He hugged her back. “I do feel better. Thanks.” He pointed at the puzzle. “What is it going to be?”

      “A dog.” She pursed her lips together. “Mommy says there’s bunnies at our house and I can see them when we get there, but I was thinking maybe I could have a puppy instead. Do you think Mommy would like a puppy?”

      “I don’t know. You’ll have to ask her.”

      She wrinkled her nose. “Maybe later. She’s cooking, and if you ask her stuff now, she usually says no.”

      He’d heard the pots rattling in the kitchen and had decided to stay clear himself. He was giving Elizabeth time to recover from what happened between them last night. “You’re a very smart girl.”

      “I know.”

      Her smile took a direct line to his heart. She wore sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt in bright pink with a redheaded mermaid on the front. Her pale blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her bangs hung almost to her eyebrows. She was going to be a heartbreaker in a few years; when she left with her mother at the end of the week, she was going to break his heart.

      Elizabeth walked into the room. She stared at a point above and to the left of his head. “Mandy, there are still a few flowers left in the garden. Why don’t you pick some for the table?”

      “Okay.” The little girl slid off his lap and grinned. “I get to pick flowers.”

      “I heard.”

      She practically quivered with excitement. “You can finish my puzzle if you want to,” she told Travis.

      “I’ll pass and let you do it.”

      She nodded and ran out of the room, singing a song about flowers. Elizabeth turned to leave, then hesitated.

      She wore her hair as she had the first time he’d seen her, in a ponytail on top of her head. The loose strands tumbled down to her shoulder. A light touch of makeup accentuated her chestnut-colored eyes. An oversize peach sweater hung midway down her thighs. Matching leggings outlined her curves, taunting him with what he’d seen and touched and tasted the previous night. Her flat loafers didn’t give her any height, and she looked small and ill at ease.

      “What’s wrong?” he asked, rising to his feet.

      “Nothing.” Her voice was hoarse, as if she was having trouble speaking. “I was just wondering if you wanted to cancel the party.”

      “A couple of friends over for a late lunch and football is hardly a party.”

      “I know, but…” Her voice trailed off. She clasped her hands together in front of her waist and stared at the ground. “I thought you might prefer to keep me away from your friends because of last night.”

      That didn’t make any sense. “Because we made love?”

      She shook her head. “No, the other thing.”

      The spot of color on each cheek had nothing to do with cosmetics. She looked as if she were praying for the ground to open and swallow her whole. It was all his fault.

      In an effort to be a gentleman, he had left their bed that morning to give her the privacy to wake up alone. If he was going to be completely honest with himself, he would have to admit there had been something other than altruism in the act. He hadn’t wanted to wake up and see the regret in her eyes. Unfortunately, she thought he was the one having regrets. She might say she was worried about her confession, but her body language told him she was thinking about the sex.

      He crossed the room and reached toward her. Before he could pull her close, she stepped back. “Don’t,” she murmured.

      “I’m not sorry we made love,” he said quietly, aware that Mandy could return at any moment. “I left you alone this morning to give you some privacy, not because I didn’t want to be with you in bed. I wanted us to make love again, but I was worried about you being sore and Mandy waking up. It was wonderful, Elizabeth. At least it was for me. I guess I’ll understand if you’re having second thoughts.”

      “I’m not sorry, either.”

      She looked up at him and he saw the sadness in her eyes. It puzzled him. If she didn’t have regrets, then why was she sad?

      “It doesn’t change anything, though,” she said dropping her arms to her side.

      Make that: it hadn’t meant anything. He’d been so damned worried about what she would be thinking and feeling that he hadn’t spared a thought for his own feelings. “So you’re saying, ‘Thanks for the good time, no regrets, but gee, let’s never bother doing that again’?”

      “Not exactly.”

      He would have laughed but there was this pain deep in his chest. He’d been a one-night stand. Women across the county would be crowing with delight if they ever learned a Haynes had finally had his comeuppance. He’d been looking for something more, and Elizabeth was the one backing off.

      “Don’t worry about me,” he said. “As for the company. Hey, why would it matter that people came over? Don’t worry, I won’t talk about your secret or last night.”

      “Thank you,” she said, looking at him oddly.

      “So nothing’s changed. We’re exactly where we were yesterday. Friends. Great.”

      “Travis, are you okay?” Her brows drew together in confusion. “Have I said anything to—”

      The sharp ringing of the phone cut her off. “Excuse me,” he said, and reached for the phone on the end table. “Hello?”

      “Hey, Travis, it’s Kyle.” His brother sounded wary. “I ran that guy you asked me to. Sam Proctor. You’re not going to believe what I found.”

      “I already know.”

      “About the bigamy?”

      “Yeah.”

      “Elizabeth Abbott is in the report. The second wife, or whatever you’d call her.”

      “I know that, too.”

      “You okay?”

      Travis turned back toward Elizabeth, but she’d left the room. No, he wasn’t okay; he was never going to be okay again. She’d touched him and loved him in his bed, and now she was going to shut him down. Part of him couldn’t blame her. He was the last guy in the world she should get involved with. He would only screw up the whole thing. But his brief experience of paradise had left him hungry for more. He wanted to be different, he wanted to be the kind of man who could marry and have a family. He wanted—

      “Travis, are you there?”

      “Sorry. I’m fine. Look, Kyle, I want you to keep this information to yourself, okay?”

      Kyle