With This Click, I Thee Wed (Click and Wed.com Series, #1) Page 5
Old tin signs graced the walls of the living room, but they looked brand-new. He must have a liking for replicas. He wouldn’t be the first one I’d heard of. A lot of money was spent on nostalgic decorations.
A second minute passed. I pulled the soft skin of my inner cheek between my teeth. Was Logan okay? Or was he going to be just like my dad? The possibilities filled me with fear. I didn’t want to leave my dad’s house and go straight to another man like him. I hadn’t considered the chance.
I had never told my father, but he and Derek were a lot alike – overbearing and demeaning. I always wanted Derek to like me, and I wasn’t sure who I was always trying to get approval from, my dad or my ex.
I picked at the cuticle of my thumb while chewing on my cheek. If I kept up the way I was going with my nerves, I wouldn’t have any skin left anywhere. I shook my hands and gripped the edge of my seat to do something besides ruin my skin.
Five more minutes passed.
I slouched into the seat, confused. Had I said a different time? Or maybe I hadn’t understood him? What if he was outside waiting for me? Maybe he meant he was going to take me to dinner in an hour.
Suddenly, I felt foolish. I stood, pushing the seat back, and went to the front door to check. My rental car hadn’t moved, and I didn’t see anything that indicated he had come out toward the house. Plus, he would need a shower or something, wouldn’t he? Light still spilled from the barn.
I had just enough pride in me not to go out and beg him to come inside. He was a big boy, he knew it was time to eat. It wasn’t that long, anyway. He was probably washing his hands or finishing up. I could give him a few more minutes. Calm down, Rachel. You can’t control everything.
I closed the door and returned to my seat. How long did I have to wait before it was rude for me to eat? That seemed to be the question of my life.
My fatigue and the injustice of my first night hit me at the same time. I had done a lot in the last hour for Logan. Was it too much for me to expect him to come in on time for my first night there? He couldn’t even be bothered to come in at a set time that he’d given me.
I claimed a deep breath. Well, fine. I didn’t have to wait for him. I cut up the pancakes and poured on the syrup liberally. Churlishly, maybe I would be able to use all the syrup. As much as I wanted to relish the sweet maple flavors of the syrup soaked into the fluffy pancakes and the salty crunch of the bacon, worry held me back from fully enjoying my meal. I hadn’t eaten a solid meal since I’d left home the day before or even slept well.
Finishing dinner, I suddenly felt bad. Maybe I shouldn’t have eaten. He was probably going to be in any minute. What kind of an impression was I going to leave him with, if I couldn’t even wait thirty minutes?
But thirty minutes turned into an hour. I hadn’t left my seat yet, and I wasn’t quite sure what I was supposed to do.
At an hour and a half, nervous energy had me twitching my fingers. I jumped to my feet and finished cleaning the kitchen. I hoped putting things where I did was okay. I wasn’t sure of their proper locations.
Three hours after the time when Logan was supposed to come in to eat, I found myself sitting exhausted on one of the recliners. There were no blankets, and I had kept the fire stoked enough that the chill was off, but I wasn’t completely warm or comfortable.
I hadn’t felt that rejected in a while.
Pulling my coat over me to cover my arms, I leaned back in the chair. I wasn’t sure when he was going to be in. Hopefully, I would wake up and not be sleeping on the chair.
I fought the tears trying to leak out of my eyes, but finally just gave over and cried myself to sleep.
Chapter 7
It was amazing what a good night’s sleep could do. I stretched my arms above my head and straightened my legs, stretching my toes. Linen sheets cradled me in smooth warmth. My bare toes slid between the material.
But wait, I had fallen asleep on the chair.
My eyes snapped open and I stared wide-eyed at the foreign room with a country-style of decorating.
Peach and cream wallpaper graced the walls until it hit an Oak wainscoting. Fluffy cream carpet spanned the length of the room which was lightly furnished with an oak dresser gilded with brass handles, an oak nightstand with a brass lamp and cream lamp covering, long cream and peach-lined curtains hung to the floor over the window, oak-paneled doors led to a large closet, and the bed was four-poster with a peach and cream duvet. Four fluffy pillows and who knew how many other blankets hid under the duvet, creating a cloud sensation around me.
My bags rested neatly beside the dresser, stacked there by size. My shoes and socks had been placed neatly beside them and my coat draped on the handle of the closet. My jeans were folded and resting on the dresser top.
My jeans.
I didn’t take my jeans off.
In fact, I hadn’t taken anything off. I hadn’t even come upstairs.
What had happened when I fell asleep? Could Logan have possibly come inside? Or was I so exhausted I hadn’t realized what I’d done?
I rubbed my face. I must have looked hideous. I hadn’t even taken my mascara off, yet.
How was I supposed to act? Did I go out there and pretend nothing happened? Nothing had happened, so I wouldn’t be pretending. Was I mad at him for not showing up last night? Or was I mad that I’d expected too much and hadn’t let him know?
We didn’t know each other well enough for me to be mad, but I didn’t want to head into the marriage with the same disregard from my husband that my parents had for me. I didn’t usually stick up for myself, but I had to change sometime and somehow. A brand-new start was exactly what I needed.
The likelihood of a confrontation didn’t sit well with me, and I couldn’t shake the nervous chill in my bones.
Before I went downstairs, I needed a shower. Not only to wash off the travel grime, but to also bolster my courage and erase my wariness from waking up in a strange bed. I threw back the covers and flinched as cold air attacked every bare inch of my skin. I’d worked hard on that fire. Had Logan not kept the coals going? Or maybe the heat didn’t travel all that way up the stairs and through a closed door.
Either way, I didn’t care. Hopefully, he had hot water running upstairs. I hadn’t really checked last night when I was in the kitchen. I’d just rinsed the dishes and threw them in the sink or in the dishwasher, depending on if the machine was full or not.
Where was the bathroom? I needed to visit the restroom and cleanup before I made up my mind about how I was going to act toward Logan. I know it sounded childish, but I had to stick up for myself. Yet, was there something to stick up for myself about? I was so confused, usually I just got railroaded and I couldn’t move into a new life with that as my constant theme.
I didn’t want to ask him where the bathroom was because I wasn’t sure if I was mad at him or not. Could I have been mad at myself more than him? I didn’t want to be mad at myself. I was there alone. The only person that I had to back me up was me. The only family that I had was my husband, and I didn’t know him. For all I knew, I could’ve married a psycho. A good-looking psycho at that.
I put my large suitcase up on the bed and unzipped it, a soft ding from my jacket pulling my attention. My battery had to be getting low by then. That was probably the warning. I retrieved the cell from the pocket of my coat and grimaced at the number of notifications.
My charger was in a side pocket of my carryon. I pulled it out and plugged my phone in by the nightstand. The action only removed the low battery notification and none of my other icons bothered disappearing.
A bright red heart flashed, demanding immediate attention. I swiped it.
The heart was replaced with a red box and clear black text that read, “Please check in before noon your time, or you will forfeit the deposit.” I hadn’t checked in at my final destination on the ClickandWed.com app. It had a countdown clock, and according to the time, I only had forty-five minutes until noon my time. Was that po
ssible? How could I have slept in until almost noon?
Embarrassment riddled through me. I never slept in past six.
Checking in with a click to “check in”, I grabbed underwear and clothes in one hand and my toiletry bag in another. At the door, I shifted my clothes to under my elbow and opened it quietly.
The sound of running water downstairs promised me a reprieve since he was in the kitchen. Looking right, I spied the stairs which I would not be taking in my current state. To my left, a hallway lined with doors greeted me.
An open doorway beckoned to me. Usually, bathroom doors were left open. I glanced inside, but was greeted with the sight of another more masculine bedroom than the one I’d woken in.
I shrank back, unwilling to be caught skulking at his threshold. The bathroom was my destination. Not the master bedroom. I turned back into the hallway and picked the door right across from our rooms. Pushing open the panel, I let myself into a bathroom overflowing with light as it poured through the skylight in the angled ceiling.
I’d left my phone in the bedroom to charge. The part of me that had checked to see if I’d gotten any test messages from my mom tried pushing the disappointment to the side. I would have to shake that off. Nothing new down that thread of thought.
Closing the bathroom door behind me, I hung my toiletry bag on a hook on the back of the door. Plush, deep chocolate rugs covered the linoleum floor. Cream and brown accents decorated the bathroom, giving a surprising warm and welcoming sensation.
It didn’t take long to get hot water to the shower, and I finished my morning ablutions rather quickly. Instead of doing anything fancy with my hair, I pulled it into a French braid at the back of my head.
I still hadn’t decided, if I was going to be mad at him. Maybe I would be mad at him, if I knew he took my jeans off with the lights on. That might be a good reason to be mad at him. It wasn’t like I was wearing my best underwear. No, I had worn my traveling underwear. I don’t even think I shaved my legs.
My new husband had seen me in my comfortable briefs and with Sasquatch legs.
It was going to be so awesomely embarrassing. Hopefully, my face wasn’t bright red when I saw him. I put my things away tidily in my room. At least, I assumed it was my room where he’d deposited me.
And taken off my pants. Grrr.
Making my way downstairs, I picked at my thumb cuticles again. I closed my eyes and forced myself to stop. I had no reason to be nervous. I hadn’t done anything wrong. If anything, he should be nervous. Yes, that was the way I was going to treat it. He should be nervous of me.
My mini-pep talk didn’t make the ache in my lower stomach go away.
I padded across the length of the living room and came upon Logan sitting at his seat at the table. I didn’t know what to say. Standing there awkwardly until he looked at me was as close to a game plan as I could get.
A large smile displayed beautiful white teeth. He stood, putting his coffee cup down. “Good morning. I didn’t know what time you would be up. I’m sure you’re exhausted after your day yesterday.”
Logan lifted his hand and motioned towards the kitchen, then dropped it lamely by his side. He seemed to be as uncomfortable as I was. “Thank you. I haven’t seen my kitchen that clean in a long time. It used to be clean all the time... Until...” He shrugged, sadness casting a shadow across his features. “That’s another story though.”
I offered a half-smile, still uncomfortable with the fact that he had abandoned me the night before. It was essentially our wedding night, not that I expected to consummate anything, but still.
He cleared his throat, the smile dimming into something a bit more apologetic instead of so happy. Dark stubble gave a different texture to his lower face and I could’ve stared at him all day. His voice deepened. “I’m sorry I didn’t come in. I couldn’t find the pigs, and I didn’t want them to freeze. I finally found them under your Jeep, but that wasn’t until almost ten.”
Pigs? And they were under my Jeep? I didn’t have a Jeep... Oh, right. I was supposed to have them come pick the Jeep up. Or drop it off. I couldn’t remember. I tried alleviating his stress. I must have chosen not to be mad at him. His sweet apology came before I could really work myself into anything worth holding onto.
I folded my arms at my waist. “It’s okay. I just... I’m not sure what I was expecting. Your dinner was probably cold when you came inside.” I didn’t mention the fact that I was lonely, or that I wished he had come inside.
That would put a little too much dependency on him. I was a grown woman, for crying out loud. Couldn’t I handle being on my own for a little bit?
The deep timbre of his voice made my insides tremble with longing. “Dinner was delicious. I heated it in the microwave for about a minute and it was perfect. You cook like my mom.”
I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or a statement. Hopefully, his mom was a good cook. I said as much. “Hopefully, your mom’s a good cook.” I tried to say it teasingly, but it came out as a croak. I still wasn’t sure how to act around him. The discomfort couldn’t carry on for much longer, or it would be an awkward six months – or longer!
“My mom’s dead.” He looked away from me and into the kitchen, his smile fading to reveal genuine pain. “Actually, this place is hers and Dad’s. I grew up here and moved away. They died just last year, so I’m trying to make things work for them. Their dream was always to work this ranch and keep it from getting bought out.”
Involuntarily, I put my hand against my throat. Not everyone’s parents were as mean as mine and someone as nice as Logan had to come from sweet people. My emotions were all over the place and I struggled to squeak out my condolences. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize... It didn’t say that on your profile.” The information on his profile was all I had to go on about him.
He motioned to my seat. “Sit down. I’ll get you something to eat. I need to repay the favor.” He grinned as if we weren’t just speaking about a very touchy subject. “I’m not as good a cook as you, but I can make a mean peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”
I groaned in mock despair. “I saw the remnants of what you can make. Do you have any more TV dinners? Or did you wipe out the store?” I bit my lip. Had I gone too far? My ex had never appreciated my humor. He said I was too crass and shouldn’t joke as much. Would Logan think the same thing?
His laugh surprised me, it came from the belly and was deep in bass. “Oh, a spitfire. Good, I’m glad you can give it back. I tease like the dickens, and it’s never fun when it’s just one way.” Logan’s grin made his eyes sparkle as he ducked into the kitchen.
The lower level was warmer than the upstairs. I didn’t notice until Logan had stepped away from me. Nothing else seemed to trigger my radar when he was in range.
Relief filled me. So far, we were getting along okay. Was it alright to be more hopeful? Until I remembered that he had taken off my pants. More anxiety filled me and I blurted out, “Did you take off my pants?”
He stopped his movements of spreading peanut butter and jelly on bread and angled his head to see me better. “I’m not sure exactly what you mean by that statement.” He squinted his eyes at me and then winked.
Logan was teasing again. Maybe? “Seriously? You took my pants off?” I couldn’t help laughing at his expressions of wiggling eyebrows and oh-la-la.
“I didn’t think you wanted to sleep in jeans. I wouldn’t want to. Plus, you have cute underwear.” He winked again and laughed at my moan of embarrassment.
We sat there in comfortable silence for a moment. I was grateful for the reprieve from the worry for a second.
After a moment, he set a cup of coffee and a sandwich in front of me. “Okay, so let’s start the quizzing. What brings you here? I mean, I know Click and Wed sent you here and that we,” he motioned between us, “are married. I’m just wondering what you’re hoping to accomplish. What goals do you have in mind?”
I could appreciate his forthrightness regarding the issue
. As far as I was concerned, it was an uncomfortable issue, and I still wasn’t sure I understood it completely.
“I’m not really sure. I needed to...” I rubbed my eyes and then looked him head-on, following his lead. “I needed to get away from my family. I’ve been a burden to them since I recently moved back in, and I just needed to get away. I wanted something new, you know?”
“We’ll get back to why you returned to live with them, but what do you mean your family doesn’t want you? Family is everything.” He leaned his elbow on the table and picked up his coffee, sipping from his mug while he contemplated me.
“Not mine.” I picked up the sandwich and considered it, trying to keep my tone impersonal. “They don’t like me.”
The painful admission was one I had never made out loud and saying it drove the pain home. Tears pricked my eyes and I scrunched my lips to the side to hold them in. I even tried laughing.
“They’ve never liked me. I’m never good enough. I had to get away.” I pasted on a fake smile and took a bite of sandwich. For a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, it was really good. “This is delicious. Thank you.” I hadn’t realized how hungry I’d been. His considerate actions made the sandwich that much more delectable.
“Well, I like you.” He sat with his legs stretched out in front of him and his elbow bent on the table. He declared his statement with such emphasis, I could tell he really meant it.
I laughed, taking another bite. “Thanks, but you don’t know me.” To be fair, I didn’t know him either, but I could honestly say I liked him, too.
“My kitchen is clean and you cook like my mom, that’s enough for me. At least to start on.” He tilted his cup toward the kitchen and nodded with appreciation.
Sudden shyness held my tongue for a moment, I took another bite to cover it up. Was that all he wanted in a wife? Had I succeeded? He just wanted someone to clean and cook? Those were two things I could do.