I t was still dark when Michael woke, though the darkness was faintly gray around the edges, hinting at the dawn to come. The rain that had started with a bang now fell gently on the parched fields. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear the muffled rumble of thunder.
Brittany slept beside him, her body curled confidingly close. Her hair spilled across his chest like a silky black web. Even though the scent of their lovemaking lingered in the air, he tried desperately to ignore his body’s response to the musky smell.
He eased his arm out from under her head. She stirred but didn’t wake, cuddling up to the pillow in a way that made him want to kiss her awake. But he needed to think.
He picked up his jeans on the way out of the room, thrusting his legs into them in the hallway. He eased open Brittany’s door and padded quietly over to the crib. Danielle was awake, and she stared up at him solemnly, as if asking why it had taken him so long to get here.
“Hello, sweetie. Have you been awake long? You were certainly very good to keep quiet. Mommy’s still asleep, so you’ll just have to muddle through with Daddy for now.”
He kept up the silly patter as he changed her diaper, then he carried her into the kitchen. He held her on one hip while he got a bottle out of the refrigerator and set it to warm in the microwave. Carrying her into the living room, he settled her in a corner of the sofa with the bottle propped on a pillow while he shut the window. His toes squished in the carpet underneath, but he had other things to think about besides the possibility of a ruined carpet.
Sitting on the sofa, he lifted Danielle into his arms, holding the bottle. She watched him with wide eyes as she nursed, eyes that were changing from baby blue to a more distinct blue. Her hair was darkening, too, showing promise of being the same rich black as her mother’s someday.
“You know, life’s easy for you now. Enjoy it while you can, angel. It certainly does get complicated when you grow up.”
He leaned his head back against the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. Outside, the rain fell steadily. The back of the heat wave had been broken, and the air felt pleasantly cool.
Everything had seemed so simple last night. When he’d seen Brittany in that sweetly sexy gown, felt the restlessness in her—a restlessness he more than understood... He shook his head, looking back down at the baby he held.
Dan’s child.
That was harder and harder to remember. From the moment of her birth, she’d been his. Just as he’d come to look on Brittany as his. His wife.
Somewhere along the way, like some great cosmic joke, he’d ended up living the life Dan should have had. His wife, his baby. It all should have been Dan’s. And what did that make him?
“Michael?” He lifted his head at Brittany’s soft call. She stepped into the swath of light that spilled from the kitchen. Despite his confused state of mind, his body tightened in familiar reaction. She’d pulled on one of his shirts, and the blue cambric draped her figure in a way that revealed nothing but hinted at everything. Her hair lay in a thick black cloud on her shoulders, tousled with sleep and loving.
His hand tightened around the bottle he still held, though Danielle had long since drained it and was drifting off to sleep. How was it possible for one woman to be every fantasy he’d ever had?
“Did Danielle cry?” Brittany moved closer, a slight frown creasing her forehead, disturbed by the thought that the baby might have cried and she hadn’t heard her.
“No. I went in to check on her and she was awake, so I changed her and fed her. Looks like she’s just about asleep again.”
“Why don’t I put her to bed,” Brittany suggested. “Sure.” Michael stood up, letting her take the drowsy infant from his arms. This close, he could smelt the warm, womanly scent of her, and his jaw tightened against the urge to take her in his arms, bury his face in her hair. Her eyes met his and he read the uncertainty she was feeling. His hand half lifted and then dropped. If he touched her, he was going to take her back to bed. She looked away.
“I’ll make a pot of coffee,” he said, stalling for time. They both knew they had to talk. The events of the night before had rearranged all their neat plans, changed everything.
When Brittany came into the kitchen, she’d changed into a pair of jeans and a loose top, and she’d brushed her hair. But there was still a touch of color in her cheeks, a certain look in her eyes that spoke of a woman who’d been thoroughly loved. Despite his own doubts about where they went from here, Michael took a purely masculine satisfaction in that look.
“Here. I thought you might want to put this on.” Brittany’s eyes settled on his bare chest and then skittered away as she held out the shirt she’d been wearing earlier.
Michael half smiled as he took the shirt from her. It was obvious that she found his naked chest a distraction. The knowledge was not unpleasant. He shrugged into the shirt, buttoning it halfway before he turned and lifted a pair of coffee cups from the counter.
“The dining room?” he questioned.
“Sounds fine.”
Neither of them said a word as he carried the cups into the dining room and set them on the table. The rain fell in a gentle gray curtain outside the window, muffling the dawn that struggled to break through the clouds.
Brittany sat down and picked up her cup, sipping at the steaming black liquid. Not that she particularly wanted coffee, but she did want something to do with her hands. Michael sat across the table from her. If she lifted her eyes from her cup, she could see a wedge of tanned flesh between the edges of his shirt.
Since their marriage, she’d seen Michael without a shirt dozens of times but never before when she had quite such an intimate knowledge of exactly what those muscles felt like beneath her fingers.
She still wasn’t sure what had happened last night. The heat, the storm, Michael. Everything sort of blended together in her mind.
“We sort of skipped a few steps,” Michael offered when the silence threatened to stretch too long.
“I guess we did.” She knew what he meant. There should have been stages that came before last night’s explosion of passion. Somehow, they’d jumped over all the hand holding and kissing and working up to sleeping together.
He twisted the coffee cup between his hands, staring down at the aimless movement.
“Look, Brittany, I feel like I should—”
“If you’re going to apologize, I’m going to dump this coffee in your lap.” The guilty way his eyes swept to hers told her that that was exactly what he’d been about to do. “Michael, I wasn’t a victim last night.”
“I didn’t think you were,” he protested.
“Didn’t you? Then why do I have the impression that you were about to apologize?”
“I just felt that—maybe—you might have felt that you ... Well, that you owed me something.”
“I do owe you. I owe you a lot more than I can ever repay, but I didn’t sleep with you because I owe you.”
“I don’t think the sleeping part of it is the problem,” he murmured drily.
Brittany felt her cheeks warm. “No, I guess it isn’t.”
“This changes things,” he said after a long pause.
“Weren’t things changing before this?”
“Yes. But this changes them with a vengeance.”
“In what way?”
“I can’t go back to the way things have been. After last night, making love with you, I can’t pretend that we’re just friends who happen to be sharing a house and a marriage license. I want you too much to even try,” he said bluntly.
This time the flush started at her throat and worked its way over her face. She felt a foolish flutter in her chest. It wasn’t as if his words were news. Heaven knows, he’d proved how much he wanted her last night. It was just that having it laid out so bluntly was a little startling.
“Okay,” she managed at last, trying to sound calm and collected. “I’d agree with that. There’s obviously an ... attraction between us.”
Michael’s mouth twisted as if in silent commentary at the careful way she stated things. “I think that’s pretty obvious.”
There was another long silence while Brittany stared at the table. The rain continued to fall, but the sun had accomplished a partial victory, and it was at least light outside.
“So, where do we go from here?” she asked when she couldn’t stand the silence another second.
“Where do you want to go from here?”
“I asked you first.” She gave him a quick, nervous smile.
“Fair enough.” He nodded. “It seems to me that we only have a couple of choices. Either we stay together and make this a real marriage—” He stopped, as if weighing his next words.
“Or...” Brittany prompted at last.
“Or we break the whole thing off right now.”
He said it quietly, but it still struck like a blow. What he meant was that she would take Danielle and move out, just as they’d planned from the beginning. Only nothing was the way it had been in the beginning. She’d come to think of this house as her home, of Donovan and Beth as part of her family, of Michael as Danielle’s father. As her husband.
She looked away quickly before he could see the impact of his words. “Is that what you want? To break it off? That’s what we planned, isn’t it?”
“It’s what we planned,” he agreed slowly.
“Is it what you want?”
The seconds ticked by as she waited for his answer. If he said yes, her whole life was going to come tumbling down around her ears. And if he said no? If he said no, then she was committing herself to something she wasn’t sure she was ready for.
“No, it isn’t what I want.”
The simple answer set off turmoil in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to take the question back, pretend last night had never happened. She wasn’t ready to make this decision, to make a commitment like this.
“What do you think?”
She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She was at a loss for words to try to express her thoughts. She didn’t even know what she was thinking, what she was feeling. How could she possibly give him an answer?
“Is it that difficult to answer?” The question brought her eyes to his face. He was looking at her, one brow raised slightly quizzically. The lightness of his tone eased some of her tension. He made everything seem a little less earth-shattering, a little less frightening.
“Yes. I mean, no.” She raised her hands. “I don’t know.”
“That’s what I’ve always appreciated in you—your absolute decisiveness. Your ability to make snap decisions without a moment’s hesitation.”
Brittany shook her head, laughing softly at his blatant teasing, but the fingers she wrapped around her coffee cup were shaky.
“I know I sound like an idiot, but I wasn’t really prepared for this. I mean, until last night, everything was so simple.”
“Not really.” Michael leaned back in his chair. “We couldn’t have gone on like that forever. I think you knew it as well as I. Something had to give, sooner or later.”
“I suppose,” she said.
“Look, I’m not going to pressure you. This decision is important to our future—yours, mine and Danielle’s. But I’d just like to point out that we’ve muddled along pretty well together so far. In a couple of months, we’ll have been married a year. I don’t think we’ve done too badly.”
“No, we haven’t.”
“Would it be so difficult to start thinking of this as a permanent arrangement?”
If she was honest, she’d admit that it wouldn’t be difficult at all. Hadn’t that been in her mind for the past few weeks? Why was she so nervous? They’d already built a life together.
“No.” The word came out a whisper, and she cleared her throat. “No, it wouldn’t be hard to start thinking of this as a permanent arrangement.” She lifted her eyes to his face and brought the next words out in a rush. “Michael, are you sure you’re doing this because you want to? You’re not doing it because you think I can’t take care of myself? Or because you don’t want to lose Danielle?
“Because you’ve got to know that, no matter what happens between the two of us, I would never try to keep you away from her. You are her father in the truest sense of the word. I mean that.
“But I wouldn’t want to try to make this a real marriage if we weren’t doing it for the right reasons. We should do it because we care for each other. And because we think we could be happy together...” Brittany trailed off, aware that she was starting to ramble.
“I agree. I don’t think you’re helpless. And I know you wouldn’t try to keep me away from Danielle, for which I thank you.” He reached across the table, catching her hand in his. “Brittany, the only reason I want you to stay is because I think we could make a good marriage. I think we could be happy. I care about you. I want to be with you.”
“I care about you, too.” She looked at their linked hands, and suddenly the answer seemed so simple. Why was she so panicky? This was Michael, who’d been there for her from the start. They already had a marriage, in the most important sense of the word. What difference would it make if she verbalized the commitment she already felt?
“Yes. Yes, I think I’d like to make this a real marriage.”
Michael’s hand tightened convulsively over hers and then relaxed. “Good.” He stopped and cleared his throat. “Good.”
He was nervous, she thought. The realization made her relax. He always seemed so sure, so self-confident, as if he knew exactly where he was going and never doubted that he was going to get there. But he hadn’t been sure of her answer. And it had been important to him.
“Well,” she said, feeling as nervous and giddy as a teenager.
“Well.” Michael didn’t seem to have anything to add, but his smile was wide.
“I feel like we should do something to mark the occasion.”
“We’ve already got a marriage license. Maybe we should seal this with a kiss.” The look in his eyes made her flush, but she didn’t resist when his hand tugged hers, urging her out of her seat. She came around the table slowly, her fingers still in his. After last night, it was a little foolish to feel shy with him. But then, last night they hadn’t just made commitments to each other.
She stopped in front of him, not quite meeting his eyes, feeling like a new bride, which, in a sense, she was. She gasped when his free arm came up to catch her around the waist, tumbling her down into his lap. Tossing her hair out of her eyes, she looked at him, meeting the teasing laughter in his look.
“I just thought we should start this marriage off on the right foot.”
“You mean on the right lap?”
“ I mean in the right way,” he said softly, reaching up to stroke the hair back from her face. “We can make this work, Brittany. I know we can.”
As she melted into his kiss, she hoped they weren’t making a big mistake.
***
Brittany adjusted a ruffle on Danielle’s lemon-yellow romper with a nervous twitch.
“Okay, when Daddy comes in, I want you to give him a big smile. Tonight is special.”
Danielle stared at her, greeting this announcement with the same solemn attention she gave most comments. Looking at her, Brittany felt a surge of love. It seemed incredible that this tiny, perfect human being was really here, really hers.
At the sound of the Mustang pulling into the driveway, she straightened quickly, smoothing a hand over her hips to make sure the slim skirt of her dress was lying properly. It was silly to be so nervous, but in a sense, this was a new beginning. From now on, her marriage was much more than a piece of paper.
She’d spent the day moving her things into Michael’s room,. One minute she’d been sure that she was making a terrible mistake, the next sure that this was the best decision she’d ever make. By late afternoon, the seesaw of emotions had left her almost dizzy.
A long, hot bath had served to relax some of the nervous tension. She’d taken time with her makeup and pulled her hair up in a soft Gibson girl pouf, leaving a few tendrils free to caress her nape. The dress was one she’d bought more than a year ago, hoping for a special occasion that justified wearing it.
At the time she’d assumed that special occasion would include Dan. Her hand had lingered on the dress uncertainly. Things had changed so much. The dress had languished in the back of her closet, serving as a reminder of dreams unfulfilled. Tonight it could serve to celebrate the beginning of new dreams.
After she’d pulled the slim turquoise silk over her head, she’d smoothed it into place, turning sideways to make sure there were no odd bulges. All her hard work in the gym after Danielle’s birth had paid off, and the silk revealed nothing she had to be ashamed of. The square-cut bodice and tiny sleeves showed just enough skin to be intriguing. Maybe it was a little fancy for dinner at home, but she wanted to show Michael that this new beginning was important to her.
Now she twisted the slim diamond bracelet on her wrist, suddenly sure that she had overdone things. Especially since, with all the time she’d spent preparing herself, she’d had very little time to worry about dinner.
Hearing Michael’s footsteps on the porch, Brittany put her hand to her throat, panic all but choking her. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know him. After last night, they were certainly intimately acquainted. And it wasn’t that she was doubting the decision to turn their marriage into something real and lasting. It was just that she was standing on the brink of a major change.
The door opened and Michael stepped into the hallway. Brittany was standing at the end of the breakfast bar that divided kitchen and dining room, one hand resting casually on the maple surface of the bar, the other clenched at her side. Michael saw her as the door shut behind him, and the smile he gave her drained most of the tension.
This was Michael. Michael, who’d become her best friend. There was nothing to be afraid of. He wasn’t suddenly going to change just because they’d decided to change the terms of their bargain.
Her smile was bright with relief. She lifted her face as he crossed the distance between them. His kiss was brief but thorough, and she rested her forehead against his chest for a moment before he drew back. It seemed incredible that they’d lived together all these months, and she was just now discovering that he could melt her knees with one kiss.
He took her hands as he stepped back, holding her arms out so that he could study her.
“You look fantastic.”
“Thank you.” Brittany flushed at the look of blatant male appreciation he was giving her. That look set off little tingles in the pit of her stomach.
“Are we celebrating?” He glanced over her head at the steaks sitting on the counter.
“Kind of. Well, not exactly.”
“There you go again, being decisive. What are we ‘kind of, not exactly’ celebrating?”
She laughed at his teasing, feeling the last of the nervous tension drain away.
“I thought it might be nice to mark the beginning of our marriage, the real beginning, this time. I mean, if we’re going to do this, we should do it properly. Don’t you think?”
“Sure. Sounds like a great idea. I wish I’d thought of it myself. How’s my best girl?” He bent over Danielle, lifting her into his arms. She smiled, showing her delight in his presence as he cooed over her, telling her how beautiful she was.
Brittany watched, trying to ignore the tiny twinge of irritation she felt. She hadn’t expected Michael to look at this quite the same way she did. After all, he was a man and men were notoriously insensitive when it came to things like anniversaries and celebrating new beginnings. Still, it did seem as though this were something significant enough that even a man might have taken note of it.
He glanced up from the baby, catching the annoyance on her face. Something unreadable, amusement perhaps, flashed in his eyes. Surely that was amusement.
“You know, you’re right. This really is a new beginning. I think we should go out to celebrate, unless you’re particularly crazy to have dinner here? You look much too pretty to be spending time in the kitchen.”
“It’s Friday night. We probably won’t be able to get in anywhere.” She was not in a cooperative mood. Saying she looked pretty wasn’t enough. She wanted him to share her feelings about the significance of the step they’d taken.
“We can give it a try,” Michael suggested. “We can always come home and eat steak if we can’t find a restaurant. Why don’t you give me a few minutes to shower and change, and then we’ll see what we can do.”
He didn’t give her a chance to argue, thrusting Danielle into her arms and loping off to the bedroom. Brittany stared after him, aware that her lower lip was poked out in something perilously close to a pout.
“Insensitive clod,” she muttered. Danielle waved her fists and made an unintelligible comment of her own.
***
Michael stepped out of the shower and toweled off, trying to wipe the grin from his face. Brittany had looked so annoyed. He probably shouldn’t tease her, but he found it hard to resist.
Stepping into the bedroom, he opened the closet and reached for a shirt, only to come up with a handful of silk. She’d moved her clothes into his room. He stared at the slightly overcrowded closet, feeling an odd tightness in his chest. Strange, how something as small as seeing her dresses hanging next to his shirts should seem so significant.
He pulled a shirt and a pair of slacks from the closet and shut the door, his expression thoughtful. He dressed and combed his hair, shrugging into a linen sport jacket before reaching for the small box he’d tucked into his back pocket before coming into the house.
He didn’t open the box. He knew what it contained. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea. Maybe he should wait awhile before giving it to her. His jaw set stubbornly. If they were going to make a new start, they might as well make a clean sweep. He thrust the box into the pocket of his jacket before leaving the bedroom.
Brittany said very little as they got in the car, settling Danielle into her car scat. She was still a trifle disgruntled that Michael seemed to be taking this whole thing so casually. Though, glancing at his profile, she wondered if that was really the ease. He looked rather stern, as if he had something on his mind.
Her first clue that things weren’t quite what she’d thought was when Michael took the turn to his parents’ home.
Catching her questioning glance, he shrugged.
“I thought we’d drop Danielle off with my folks so we could have the evening to ourselves.”
“Don’t you think we should have called first, to make sure your mother is up to it?”
“I’m sure she won’t mind. She and Dad both love having Danielle around.” He stopped in front of the house and reached for the buckle on the baby’s car seat. “I’ll take her up,” he said hastily when Brittany moved to get out of the car. “There’s no sense in you getting your feet wet.”
Since the sun had been out since early afternoon, and there was a walkway all the way to the front door, Brittany couldn’t see how she was going to get her feet wet by getting out of the car. But something in Michael’s tone made her acquiesce, and she settled back into her seat, watching as he carried the baby up to the door, diaper bag slung over one shoulder. The door opened and he handed Danielle over to Donovan, who held her comfortably in the crook of one arm. The transfer was so prompt and smooth, it was almost as if it had been arranged ahead of time. But Michael had suggested going out on the spur of the moment.
Hadn’t he?
She studied his face surreptitiously as he got back in the car. There was something there she couldn’t quite define... Excitement? As though maybe he knew something she didn’t know? As though maybe this dinner out hadn’t been quite so spontaneous as it had seemed?
She snuggled back into her seat, feeling suddenly much better.
Brittany was hardly surprised when he pulled the car to a halt in front of Chez Coeur, Remembrance’s one and only French restaurant. It also happened to be the fanciest restaurant in town, with a reputation for fine food, superb service and prices that compensated for both. High prices or no, she knew they pulled their clientele from as far away as Indianapolis.
A bubble of excitement threatened to explode in a smile. Michael would never have brought her here unless he had reservations. And, if he had reservations, then he’d planned this long before he’d gotten home and found her dressed up. Which meant that this new beginning was just as important to him as it was to her.
But she kept her expression still, allowing just a hint of pout to show. If he wanted to spring this on her as if it had just occurred to him, then she wasn’t going to spoil his fun.
She didn’t have to maintain the facade of indifference for long. The moment they walked in the door, it was obvious that they were expected. The maître d’ greeted Michael by name, his smile ingratiating enough to indicate that he’d been very well tipped ahead of time. They were shown to a table in a dimly lit corner of the dining room and seated with a flourish.
Once alone, Brittany looked across the table, raising her eyebrows at Michael. “Why don’t we just see if we can get in someplace?” she questioned.
“I wanted it to be a surprise. And I managed to pull it off, didn’t I?” He grinned at her, looking pleased with himself.
“I actually called you an insensitive clod in front of Danielle. I could have marked her for life.”
“Well, I’m sure when you explain to her that I’m really a rather wonderful guy, she’ll understand.”
The evening seemed blessed. The atmosphere was quietly elegant. The service was prompt and nearly invisible, a perfect combination. And the food was superb. Brittany knew it was superb because it couldn’t have been anything less, but she couldn’t have said just what it was she ate.
The conversation was intermittent, but the occasional silences were comfortable. For the first time, they spoke of the future, because for the first time, they had a future together.
Michael told her of his plans for his career, his hopes, his aspirations. And Brittany told him that she’d always dreamed of being a writer, how she’d wanted to major in journalism but her parents had insisted on a more practical degree.
It wasn’t until the meal was over and they were lingering over coffee so smooth it practically evaporated on the tongue, that Michael sprang his final surprise.
“I bought you something to celebrate our marriage.”
Brittany glanced up from her cup, her eyes showing her surprise as he set a small flat box on the table. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to.” He fiddled with the box, sliding it back and forth on the thick linen tablecloth. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”
“I’m sure I’ll love it.” There was a pause, but he made no move to hand her the box_ She had the odd impression that he was uncertain now that the moment had come, and her curiosity inched up a notch.
After a long moment where he continued to toy with the box, he suddenly pushed it across the table to her.
“Maybe I should have gotten something else,” he muttered as much to himself as to her.
Brittany took the box, trying to imagine what on earth he could have gotten her that would inspire such doubts. She peeled the wrapping away to reveal a small jeweler’s box bearing the same name as the one that had held her bracelet. Snapping open the lid, she was stunned to see an exquisite diamond pendant lying on the dark velvet background. The stone caught the light, refracting it back in a hundred rainbow patterns.
“Michael, it’s beautiful.” She tore her gaze away from the pendant and looked at him, her eyes shining with excitement. The look of brooding uncertainty didn’t leave his eyes when he smiled.
“I wanted you to have something really special to remember this night by. The night that we are truly starting our marriage.”
“I certainly won’t be able to forget it with something like this to remind me. I can’t believe you thought I might not like this. Would you help me put it on?”
He moved around the table to the chair next to hers, but he didn’t immediately reach for the necklace she was holding out.
“You’ll have to take off the one you’re wearing,” he said quietly, his eyes searching hers.
It was suddenly clear why he’d had his doubts about the gift. Brittany’s smile faded, the hand holding the diamond sinking to the table while the other reached up to grasp the simple gold heart she’d worn almost constantly since Dan gave it to her more than a year ago.
Michael saw the realization come into her eyes, and he felt a hard knot settle in his chest. He hadn’t gone into the jewelry store planning on buying her something to replace the locket. He’d simply wanted something to commemorate the occasions just as he’d told her.
But when he’d seen the necklaces, he’d suddenly flashed back to the night before. Brittany boldly straddling his thighs, her head thrown back with the pleasure of their joining, her hair streaming down her back until it almost touched his thighs. In a flash of light, she’d been revealed—woman personified. She’d been every fantasy, every dream he’d ever had. His. His wife, his lover.
And there was the dull gleam of the golden heart hanging between her breasts.
In that instant, he’d felt a flash of rage like nothing he’d ever known before. That she was wearing something given to her by another man was a reminder that she hadn’t always been his, might never belong to him completely. He’d wanted to snap the chain and throw the necklace to the ends of the earth.
Instead, he’d grasped her hips, holding her still for the rhythm he set, not satisfied until she was crying out his name in her pleasure. Until he was sure that, at that moment, he was the only man on her mind.
It had all come back to him when he saw the necklaces. Before he could think about it and decide whether or not it was really a wise move, he’d picked out the diamond Brittany now held, paying far more than he should have, determined that she wouldn’t spend another night in his bed wearing the locket.
It was only later that he’d begun to wonder if he had the right to feel as he did. It wasn’t as if they were going into this with stars in their eyes. Did he have the right to ask her to set aside something that linked her to Dan? But some stubborn core of him insisted that she was his wife, sharing his bed.
Now, in Brittany’s eyes, he saw that she understood exactly what he was asking. This was not a gift without strings. Her fingers clung to the locket as if to a safety Line.
Fool, he castigated himself. She isn’t ready for this. You had no right. You’ve blown everything with your stupid, macho pride.
“Look, it was a stupid idea. I shouldn’t have bought it. We can return the necklace, and you can pick something else out.”
He reached for the necklace, hoping that they could just pretend this never happened. But Brittany didn’t release the delicate chain, and Michael’s hand dropped away. She stared at it for a long moment, as if studying the way it caught the light, but he didn’t think she was even seeing the beautiful stone.
“No. No, I don’t want to return it,” she said slowly, as if reaching a decision as she spoke. “It’s a beautiful necklace.”
“We could get something else,” he insisted. “A ring would probably be more appropriate, anyway.”
“I don’t want a ring. I’d like to keep this.” The words came more strongly, and she lifted her eyes to his face. “I’d like to keep this,” she repeated.
Michael felt the knot in his chest dissolve. Just as she’d known what he was doing when he gave her the necklace, he understood what she meant now. She was willing to let the past stay in the past. She was looking ahead to the future—a future spent with him.
“Are you sure?” His eyes searched hers.
“I’m sure.” There was no doubt in her voice, and her hands were steady as she reached up to unlatch the locket. She set it in one hand, coiling the chain into her palm, staring down at it. “I’ve worn this long enough, I think.” Drawing a deep breath, she closed her fingers over the locket and looked up at him. “Would you help me put your necklace on, please?”
Michael took the pendant from her, aware that his fingers weren’t quite steady. Brittany turned so that her back was to him, and he reached over her shoulder to set the necklace in place. The tiny clasp balked at first but then slipped neatly together.
When she turned back to him, the diamond winked against the turquoise silk. Rainbow fires shot from it, like delicate promises. Which was just what it represented. Promises he hoped would never be broken. Promises he was going to do his damnedest to fulfill.
He bent to kiss Brittany, feeling her mouth soften under his. This was their true wedding ceremony. This was the real beginning of their lives together.