The Tycoon's Virgin Bride (17 page)

The decision was already made, although again he couldn't have explained it to save his soul; he only knew that his fear of Fletcher's heritage had vanished. “Yes,”
Bryce said steadily, “I want children. We might even have two.”

Her smile was radiant. “We could teach them to play soccer.”

“I'll have to give you a rundown on the rules first,” Bryce rejoined. “Let's go get the ball from Keith.”

Three minutes later both he and Jenessa were embroiled in the game, to the imminent peril of his clean trousers and shirt. He'd been a star on the soccer team of the private school he and Travis had attended, and soon learned he hadn't lost any of his skill. But more than that, it didn't take three minutes for him to realize he was having a wonderful time; their future, his and Jenessa's, could be like this, he thought, kicking the ball to an angelic-faced little girl with a mean talent for dribbling.

From the sidelines, a whistle shrilled and a woman called, “Time out for hot dogs.”

The game dissolved instantly. Jenessa smiled at Bryce, swiping her hair back from her forehead. “Come and meet my friend Susan. It's her son Max's birthday.”

Susan was a pretty brunette with sparkling brown eyes. Jenessa said, linking her arm with Bryce's, “Susan, I'd like you to meet my fiancé, Bryce Laribee.”

“Fiancé? Since when?”

“Since five minutes ago,” Bryce laughed. “Here, let me help you with the barbecue.”

“You're a dark horse, Jenessa,” Susan chided, hugging her friend warmly, “this is the first I've heard about a fiancé. Bryce, the barbecue tongs are on the table and I'm delighted to meet you.”

Bryce produced a large number of hot dogs, doled out chips and cans of pop, and gave up trying to remember all the children's names: perhaps because Jenessa was distracting him by feeding him a hot dog laced with yellow mustard, red ketchup and green relish. When she disappeared to get the cake that Wilma Lawson had made, he took the opportunity to follow her into the house and
make a private phone call to the local florist, requesting immediate delivery of his order. Then he joined the others for ice cream and birthday cake.

An hour later the children had gone, Max and his brothers were playing amiably with some of the new toys, and Bryce was elbow deep in suds at the sink. He'd warmed to Susan immediately, and was amused at how skilfully she set about discovering if he was good enough to marry her friend Jenessa. It felt like an acclamation when she kissed him on the cheek as they left, promising to invite them both for dinner one evening the following week.

Arm in arm, Jenessa and Bryce strolled down the lane. Her bare legs were streaked with grass stains and mud, her hair a tangle of untidy curls; she was so beautiful he wondered if he could bear it. When they turned the corner and her house came in sight, she stood still, then threw back her head and began to laugh.

The florist had supplied bunches and bunches of balloons, all inscribed in big white letters,
I Love You.
They waved gently in the breeze, purple, red and blue, green, yellow, mauve and orange. Bryce said, “Couldn't see the sense of giving you flowers again, your garden's over-flowing with them.”

“All those colors,” she chuckled, “what a perfect present for an artist. To think I said you weren't romantic.”

“Once we get indoors,” he said, his voice deepening, “I'll show you just how romantic I can be.”

“How will you do that?” she asked, widening her eyes innocently. “By making a spinach salad?”

“Nope, that's for later. First I'll take you into the shower and scrub the mud off. Then we'll see what happens second.”

Jenessa opened the front gate, passing between the bobbing balloons. “Bryce,” she said, “have I told you yet today that I love you to distraction?”

“Not in so many words.”

She smiled into his eyes. “I love you so much I feel as though I might burst, just like a balloon.”

“Please don't do that,” he said, smiling back. “I don't think I've ever been as happy as I am right now, Jenessa. Nor have you ever looked more beautiful.”

“Wait a while,” she said with the same innocent grin. “You might change your mind.”

A couple of hours later, after they'd made love in her little bedroom, Bryce dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose and said huskily, “I adore you, and you are indeed amazingly and lusciously beautiful. But I'll always remember you standing in the lane coated in mud, laughing at balloons, your hair shining in the sunlight.”

“You say the most wonderful things to me.”

“Why don't we get up,” he said lazily, “and phone the family? We could get married before Travis and Julie go to Mexico…would you be okay living in Boston most of the time?”

“Oh, yes,” Jenessa said. “But I'd like to keep this house—it's where we met for the second time around.”

“I love it here,” he said. “It'll be a great place to retreat when the city gets too much.”

“I don't want a big society wedding,” she added. “Just a few close friends and family…perhaps we could have it here in Wellspring.”

“We can do whatever you like,” Bryce said, nuzzling her throat.

“I like that,” she murmured. “Very much.”

Another half hour passed before they managed to get out of bed. With Jenessa on the kitchen phone and Bryce using the phone in her studio, they called Charles. “Married?” he said, once Jenessa had told him the news. “You and Bryce? Congratulations, Jenessa! He's a fine man, and his business has done extremely well…I'm very happy for you. By the way, Travis and Julie are here, do you want to speak to them?”

When Travis came on the line, Jenessa could almost
see his smile. “Married, eh?” he said. “Best news I've heard all day. Took you long enough though…I was beginning to wonder if the two of you would get it together or not.”

“Asking us to be godparents,” Jenessa said darkly, “was it all a plot?”

“Who, me?”

“Yes, you, brother dear.”

“If it was, I'll never admit it.”

“I'm the luckiest woman alive,” Jenessa said, “so I guess I'll forgive you. We're going to get married in the garden at Wellspring, and we might come and visit you in Mexico once you're settled in.”

“You can baby-sit for us, Jen,” Travis said. “Good practice.”

As Jenessa blushed, Bryce interjected, “Don't rush us, Travis. I'm not quite used to the idea of the two of us, without adding a third.”

“You're the guy who said at my wedding that the woman wasn't born who'd lead you to the altar.”

“Seems to me I remember you saying something similar before you met Julie,” Bryce remarked.

“Then we're both lucky to be proved wrong,” Travis said.

And how could either Bryce or Jenessa disagree with that?