A Bride's Tangled Vows

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“I don’t know. I don’t think I can, you know, share a bed with you.”

The way her voice trailed off told him how very uncomfortable she was, which only awakened images of making her very comfortable in a bed for two. But maybe he could find a way to make this work.

“Don’t worry. I’ll figure out a way around that.”

“Do you have any other choices for a wife?” she asked. “I didn’t really give you a chance to choose.”

Arguments? He had a few, but none that were effective. Excuses? A whole hay wagon full, but none he dared utter in the face of the threat to his mother’s well-being. Other women? He could think of many a delectable armful over the last ten years, but none interested in anything as mundane as marriage. He’d stayed far away from the home-and-hearth type.

“No,” he conceded, then stepped aside to let her pass. “I don’t think I could pay my assistant enough to move to the middle of nowhere and put up with me 24/7.”

“It’s hardly the middle of nowhere,” she said with a light tone as she scooted past, brushing the far wall in an attempt not to touch him again.

Which was just as well.

She continued, “We might not have the culture of New York City, but there’s still a movie theater, nice restaurants and the country-club set.” She kept that delicate face turned resolutely away as he followed her into the soft afternoon light of the kitchen. “Not something I’m that interested in, but to each his own.”

Interesting. “What do your parents think about that?”

“Who knows?” And who cares, her tone said. Could she really brush aside what her family thought that easily? Everything he’d seen since his return made him think she was family-focused. Her graceful appearance, fierce loyalty and career choice made her seem exactly like the marriage, kids and picket-fence type. All the more reason to keep his pants zipped around her.

What were they going to do about that bed? It was long moments later before she finally turned to face him, but for once the delicate lines of her face told him nothing.

“Honestly, Aiden, I want to help. This situation is uncomfortable at best, but for Lily...”

She’ll do anything. Her earlier question rang once more in his ears: Would he put aside his own selfish wants, his own desire to run far, far away for the second time, for the needs of his mother and his childhood home?

Would he?

* * *

Christina picked her way down the damp concrete steps in front of the stately Black Hills courthouse. Thunderstorms had blown through during the night, leaving a cool breeze that rustled through the Bradford pear trees lining the square. Her trembling body felt just as jostled as she followed Aiden and Canton. Were her feet really numb or was that just the shock of signing the papers?

“It’s official,” the probate judge had said, beaming with the pride of initiating a Blackstone marriage.

Luckily, it wasn’t truly official—she still had about a week before the marriage license came in to regain her senses, but picturing Lily at home, fragile yet safe in her bed, told Christina she wouldn’t change her mind.

She couldn’t turn her back on the friend who’d given up so much for her.

The three of them reached the bottom just as a group of local guys approached. Cleaned up from work in jeans and button-downs, they looked like what they were—small-town guys headin’ down to start their weekend with some fun at Lola’s, the local bar.

“Well, look at this, boys. It’s Aiden Blackstone, back from New York City.”

Christina cringed inside. Jason Briggs had to be the cockiest guy in Black Hills, and had the mouth to prove it. Not someone she wanted to deal with given her current edgy nerves.

“Jason.” Aiden acknowledged the other man with the single, short word. From his tight tone, Christina guessed his memories of Jason were anything but fond.

“Whatya doin’ back here?” Jason asked, as if it was any of his business. “Can’t imagine you showing up after all this time for a pleasure visit.” He glanced past Aiden to Christina. “Or is it?”

The guys with him snickered, causing Christina to tense. While Aiden didn’t seem like the “let’s solve this with our fists” type, Jason had been known to push lesser men over the edge. The differences between the two were clear. Aiden was perfectly at home in his dress pants and shoes, his own button-down tucked in and sporting the sheen of a silky material. He wasn’t the old-school business-suit type, but he looked like a sophisticated professional, while the dark, stylishly spiked hair and his brooding look gave him that creative edge that probably had the women of New York swooning like Southern belles.

She knew she was.

But in the midst of the other men, it was like comparing dynamite to ordinary firecrackers. Jason and his crew might be the big fish in this tiny pond, but Christina put her money on the shark invading their midst.

The metaphor proved apt as Aiden ignored their ribbing with the confidence of someone who couldn’t be beaten. “I’m here to take over my grandfather’s affairs, now that he’s become ill,” he said with quiet confidence, not mentioning the true purpose of this little visit to the courthouse.

It was Canton who stirred the waters. “Including the running of the mill,” he added.

Rumblings started from the back of the group, but Jason shrugged off the explanation with a smart, “Doubt he can fix what’s wrong any more than a good ol’ boy like Bateman can.”

“Who’s Bateman?” Aiden asked.

The men simply stared at him for a minute before Christina answered. “Bateman is the current day foreman at the mill.”

“Check it out,” Jason said, raising his voice just a bit. “Guy doesn’t even know who the foreman is, and he thinks he’s gonna stop all the bull that’s been going on over there.”

“I’m sure I’ll manage,” Aiden said, cool, calm and collected. Standing tall on the steps, his back braced and arms folded across his chest, giving him the presence of a leader.

Jason held his gaze for a moment, probably an attempt to stare Aiden down, then shifted his cocky eyes to Christina. A weaker target. She fought the urge to ease behind Aiden’s strong back for protection. Jason was older than she was by a few years, but that hadn’t stopped him from hitting on her when they were teenagers. He hadn’t appreciated her rejection, and now enjoyed hassling her whenever they met. “I guess you filled him in, huh, sweet cheeks? Is that all you gave him? Information?”

Confident he’d gotten a few good jabs in, Jason decided he was done with them. With a self-assured jerk of his head, he got the whole crew moving like the lemmings they were.

Aiden watched them go before asking, “So he works out at the mill?”

Canton replied before Christina could. “Yes. His father is in management, I believe.”

“That’s not going to help him if he ever talks to Christina like that again.”

Startled, Christina eyed Aiden’s hard jaw and compressed lips. She’d never had a champion before, at least, not one capable of doing much in her defense. That Aiden would punish Jason on her behalf...she wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Christina frowned after the departing group. Maybe she had more of her mother’s tastes than she’d wanted to admit. None of the local guys had ever interested her much. Jerks like Jason who thought they were God’s gift to the women of this town didn’t help. But Aiden’s quietly sophisticated, confident aura made her stomach tighten every time she saw him. Which was trouble, big trouble. Especially when she started looking to him for more than just that tingling rush.

Glancing back at the men, she found Aiden watching her intently. Her cheeks burned. Please don’t let him be able to guess my thoughts.

“What’s he talking about?” Aiden asked.

Was he asking her? Why not the lawyer? But the direction of Aiden’s stare was plain.

“Well, I know there’ve been some problems out at the mill. Strange things happening. Shipments delayed or missing altogether. Perfectly good equipment breaking unexpectedly. Things like that.”

“Sabotage?” Aiden asked with narrowing eyes.

Canton broke in. “Absolutely not. Just a coincidence, is all.”

But Christina wasn’t about to lie to the person she hoped would be able to fix it. “Some people say it is. But there’s no proof of anything. Still, people in the town are starting to get antsy, superstitious, worried about their jobs—”

Canton cleared his throat, shooting her a “shut your mouth” glare. “Everything will be fine once they realize a strong Blackstone is back at the helm.”

Still, Aiden watched her, assessing as if he were cataloging her every feature. But then his gaze seemed to morph into something more, something she couldn’t look away from as heat spread through her limbs like seeping honey. When was the last time a man, any man, had truly seen her? Gifted her with a moment of intense focus?

But Aiden’s silvery-black gaze didn’t hold desire—at least, not the kind that shivered through her veins. No, his eyes appraised her, calculating her value. Their shared look allowed her to see the moment the idea hit him.

Yes, she could be useful to a lot of people, but to Aiden in particular. She knew this town in ways he didn’t anymore. And Jason had just proven that taking over the town’s biggest source of income wasn’t going to be easy. Small-town Southerners had long memories, and little tolerance for outsiders coming in to tell them what to do.

He didn’t have an easy road ahead of him, but she had a feeling she’d just been chosen to pave his way.

Four (#u4324306c-d791-5af5-9bec-8f416cd1177d)

Christina enjoyed reading to Lily. Sometimes she would indulge in short verses from a book of poetry, magazine articles or a cozy mystery. Today the words from a story set in a small town like theirs eased over them both, until muffled bumps and bangs erupted from the adjoining room. She cocked her head, hearing more thumping sounds. A quick glance reassured her Lily was okay, so she set the book down and hurried through the dressing room.

The noise grew as she approached the door that led from Lily’s dressing room to Christina’s bedroom. What was going on?

Opening the door, she found herself facing a...wall? A mattress wall?

Going back through Lily’s suite to the other exit into the hallway only gave her time to get good and angry. Nolen stood outside Christina’s room, arms crossed over his chest. His closed stance matched his expression.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

Nolen shook his head. “That boy. Master Aiden always was one to get something in his mind, and that’s all she wrote....”

Alarm skittered through Christina. What was he up to? One step inside the disarray told her it was no good.

“Why are you rearranging the furniture in my room?” She didn’t care that her voice was high-pitched and panicked. He could not do this. He could not simply move himself in without permission.

Furniture had been shoved aside, her bed taken apart and general chaos reigned. In the midst of it all, Aiden stood, legs braced. He wore almond-colored cargo pants and a blue button-down, sleeves rolled up to expose muscled forearms with a sprinkling of dark hair. A masculine statue in purple girly land.

He nodded to the delivery guys. “I think I’ve got it from here.”

Christina practically vibrated as she waited for them to clear the room. Her eyes rounded and her throat tightened as the men took her old mattress with them.

“Thanks, Nolen,” she heard Aiden say before the door clicked closed. Then he resumed his autocratic stance nearby.

“Don’t you think we should have talked about this first?”

His insolent shrug matched his nonchalant attitude, which only upped her panic for some reason. “Why? You said you would go through with this for Mother.”

She wanted to scream, but held on to her control for a moment more. “Yes, but not sharing a bed.”

He was silent so long that she shifted uncomfortably. Finally, he said, “James will get his way—you said that yourself.”

“But if we give him the marriage, maybe—”

“He doesn’t want this half-done, Christina. You know that. But I’m not going to force you to do something you don’t feel comfortable with.”

She raised her brows, pointedly surveying her disheveled room. “It seems like that’s exactly what you’re doing. I’m definitely not comfortable with this.”

“We each have a side. I’ll keep my clothes and stuff upstairs, out of your way. This doesn’t have to be any more intimate than two people sleeping beside each other.”

She wanted to study his face, see if he really believed that, but she couldn’t scratch up the nerve. Instead, she concentrated on maintaining what small modicum of grace she still possessed.

“Look,” Aiden said, “if we’re gonna do this, we’ve got to be all in. Either that, or get out now.”

Christina glanced at the door to Lily’s room. “No. I’m in,” she conceded. But as she turned back to measure the queen-size mattress dominating her small room, she had to ask, “Couldn’t you have bought two twins?”

His grin should be illegal. “Where’s the fun in that?”

* * *

Christina shoved leaden limbs through the armholes of her nightgown and dragged it on. The day had been long, and an even longer, probably restless night lay ahead. Her emotional turmoil was compounded by worries over Lily, James’s health, the bargain she’d agreed to and Aiden...always Aiden. Nicole had testing to keep her away for the next two days, but Christina looked forward to the nonstop vigil Lily’s care required. Sometimes she wished taking care of Lily were a bit more labor intensive. It might help her think a whole lot less.

Her sigh echoed around her tiny bedroom. Soon she’d be the wife of Aiden Blackstone. The cocktail of fear, desire and worry bubbling through her veins might just be enough to keep her awake until then.

But hopefully not. She stared at the new queen-size bed that consumed more than its fair share of real estate. Great, another worry. How in the world could she share a bed with Aiden Blackstone?

Long moments spent unable to imagine such a thing convinced her to worry about it another day. Instead, she settled in and let lethargy weigh her into the mattress. Please, just a few hours of oblivion.

But before she could drift off, she heard a sound from Lily’s room. Christina’s heavy head lifted. Again, that shuffling sound. Muffled by the dressing room that connected her to the suite, but there nonetheless. Had Nolen or Marie come to check on Lily before retiring?

A grimace twisted Christina’s lips as she pulled herself out from the warm nest under her covers. In the two years since Lily’s stroke, she’d often heard noises from her friend’s room. Sometimes the others came to say good-night. Sometimes a branch from the oak tree outside had scraped against the window. Sometimes she heard just the creaks and groans of a house that had seen a lot of living.

Each time, a small part of Christina’s heart hoped it was her friend. That Lily had woken up and would walk in here to gift one of her gentle hugs and tell Christina she was okay. That she wasn’t responsible for what had happened.

But it never came to be—and that broke Christina’s heart.

A muffled voice sounded through the partially closed door of the dressing room, and Christina slowed, not wanting to interrupt. As she paused, the words “Hey, Mom,” barely floated in and her feet rooted to the floor. Aiden? To her knowledge, he hadn’t been to see his mother since he’d come to Blackstone Manor. But she’d hoped. Someday.

She knew she should leave, give him some privacy. Instead, she found herself easing up to the door and peeking through the opening into the room beyond.

Aiden hunched forward in a chair just on the far edge of the faint illumination from the night-light. Even in the deep shadows she recognized his long, solid build. His head hung low, and his shoulders slumped, as if a weight of emotion dragged him down. He remained silent for long moments, not moving, almost not breathing. It was hard to reconcile him with the virile man who had confronted her on the stairs days ago. Or who’d stood his ground against the derision of Jason and his crew.

Her thoughts cut off as he looked up, gifting her with the sight of his strong features and stubble-lined jaw. It intrigued her, that small sign of weariness, that little mark of imperfection on a man usually so perfectly groomed. Would it scratch her skin if he kissed her? His deep-set eyes barely glittered in the darkness, lending to the mystery, the hushed intimacy of the moment.

“I screwed up, Mom,” he said, surprising Christina with not only his words but his matter-of-fact tone. “I left here a kid, full of anger and pride. I had no idea what that would cost me, cost us. But especially you.”

He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it in spiky disarray instead of sculpted artistry. “You didn’t blame me then, and you probably don’t blame me now. That’s the kind of person you are. But I blame me. Boy, do I—”

The small choking sound tore Christina’s heart. She saw no evidence of tears, but the depth of Aiden’s sorrow reached out from across the space separating them. She wanted to go to him, hold him and tell him his mother understood. Her foot moved before she realized what was happening and only by locking down her muscles could she stop herself.

Invader. Aiden wouldn’t want her comfort. And if he knew the role she herself had played in Lily’s accident, hers would be the last face he’d want to see right now.

“But I will make up for it. I promise you, you will stay in this house for the rest of your life.”

I’ll do my best, too, Christina thought.

He stood, hands fisted at his sides, but he made no move to approach the bed holding the ever-silent woman. “Grandfather thinks this is some kind of game, with him in the role of chess master. But it’s not. It’s an act of penance. After all, you’d just been to see me when you had the accident. Coming to me because I refused to buck the old man and come to you. Resisting him was more important to me than you were.” Long moments elapsed when Christina could only hear the pounding of her heart.

His final words floated through the air. “I’m sorry, Mom.”