Carter Bravo's Christmas Bride. Christine Rimmer
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She didn’t answer, only sat there in her chair, watching him for about fifteen seconds that only seemed like an hour and a half. He was just about to jump up, wish her a safe trip to California and get out of there when she said, “I asked you here to offer a little something in the way of motivation, a little something in the interest of helping you get past your fears.”
He stood and set his empty beer bottle on the drink cart. “You never suffered from a lack of nerve, Ma. I gotta give you that. Look, this...whatever it is you think you’re pulling here is more than I’m up for, you know? You really need to mind your own damn business.”
His mother didn’t seem a bit bothered by his harsh words. She gave a shrug. “I can that see you’re ready to go.”
“More than ready.”
“Just listen to my offer before you leave. Please.”
“Offer? You’re kidding me. There’s an offer?”
She draped an arm over the chair arm and crossed her legs the other way. “Yes, there is. I know that you and Paige have been eyeing a certain property on Arrowhead Drive, with a large cinder-block industrial building on it.”
“What the...? How do you know that?”
She waved a hand. “It was all really quite innocent.”
“Innocent,” he repeated. Not a word he would think of in connection with Willow. “Right.”
She fiddled with her earring again. “I drove by there a few weeks ago and saw the two of you standing outside the gate. And then I recalled how, several months ago, you said something about wanting to expand Bravo Custom Cars. I added two and two. Voilà. Four. Tuesday, I paid a visit to the owner. He had a price. And I have paid it.”
“You’re not serious.”
“Oh, but I am. I’ve bought that property.”
“What for? What possible use can you have for a fifteen-thousand-square-foot cinder-block building and a concrete yard rimmed in chain-link fence?”
“None, of course.”
He wanted to pick up his empty beer bottle and hurl it at the garland-bedecked fireplace. “I’m going to leave now, Ma. Happy Thanksgiving and have a nice trip to Palm Springs.” He turned to go back through the formal living room and out the way he’d come in.
And she said, “The property is yours, free and clear. But only as a wedding present.”
Keep going, he thought. Don’t give her the satisfaction of taking her seriously. But then he just couldn’t let it go at that. He halted and turned back to her. “Reassure me, Ma. Tell me you didn’t just say that if I get married, you’ll give me the property.”
“But that is exactly what I said.”
Unbelievable. “What if you’ve got this all wrong? What if Paige and I have zero interest in that property?”
“Ah, but I’m not wrong, am I?”
He could strangle her. He’d probably get the death penalty and go to hell for murdering his own mother. But right at that moment, murder seemed like a great idea. “Just curious. Did you have any particular bride in mind for me?”
“Of course not. It has to be someone you choose for yourself.”
He made a low, scoffing sound in his throat. “Wow. I get to choose the woman myself.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“I gotta say it, Ma.”
“Go ahead. Whatever you need to tell me, I’m here and I’m listening.”
“The way your mind works?”
“Yes?”
“It’s always scared the hell out of me.”
“Don’t be cruel. Can’t you see that I’m doing this for you? It’s a nudge, plain and simple, an opportunity for you to start thinking about giving love and happiness a chance. I just want you to entertain the idea of making a good life with the right woman. The property is an incentive, that’s all.”
He laughed. Because it was funny, right? And then he said, “You have a great holiday, Ma.”
She granted him her coolest smile. “Thank you, darling. I will.”
He turned on his heel then. This time, he didn’t pause or turn back. He strode fast through the front room and into the giant foyer, where he collected his coat from Estrella and got the hell out of there.
Not only was Carter’s mother a manipulative nutcase; his best friend had checked out on him.
Carter sat between Paige and Dawn at the long, white-clothed table in his half sister Clara’s formal dining room and wondered what was the matter with Paige. She’d hardly said two words to him all afternoon. At some point between the time she’d left the breakfast table that morning and two forty-five in the afternoon, when he picked her and Dawn up to bring them to Clara’s, Paige had gotten dressed, combed her hair and put on makeup. But her eyes still had that strange vacant look.
If someone spoke to her directly, she would lurch to life and pretend to be interested. But as soon as the focus moved elsewhere, she’d settle back into the weird funk she’d been in for days now.
Twice, he leaned close and asked her if she was okay. Both times, she lied. “Fine,” she said the first time. “Great,” she answered later.
He left her alone after that. They could talk about it when they got back to her place.
For now, he enjoyed his family. The food was always good at Clara’s house. Plus, Clara was a truly sweet woman and happily married to a banker from Denver named Dalton Ames. They had a six-month-old daughter, Kiera.
Carter liked hanging around Dalton and Clara. Just seeing them together made him smile. They’d had some difficulties when they first started out, but they’d worked through them and come out strong on the other side.
Same thing with his brother Quinn and Chloe Winchester, who was now Chloe Bravo. Truthfully, Willow might be full of crap about a lot of stuff, but she was right about Quinn and Chloe. Quinn and Chloe had that thing—whatever it was. They shared that special connection, same as Dalton and Clara.
And then there was his cousin Rory and her fiancé, Walker McKellan. Rory Bravo-Calabretti was an honest-to-God princess from the tiny Mediterranean principality of Montedoro. She’d moved to Justice Creek last winter. She and Walker, who owned a guest ranch not far from town, were getting married on Christmas Eve.
And yeah, Rory and Walker had it, too. Same as Clara and Dalton. Same as Quinn and Chloe.
Hanging around at Clara’s house on Thanksgiving, watching those three couples