Get Well Soon Page 2

  “And we made the deal that if neither of us was married when you turned forty, we’d think about getting together.”

  This was going to be the part where he told her that she was off the hook. He had to be showing her the ring that he wanted to give one of his girlfriends. Light bulbs clicked in her mind. The looks at Keane's made sense. Both Keane and Kent knew that Donovan was going to let her down and they probably suspected that given the amount of time they spent together that she wouldn't take it well.

  Another light bulb clicked. That's why he suggested they forgo the cart and walk with their clubs. They had eighteen holes of golf to bring closure to the forthcoming changes between them.

  It was almost as if the universe had prepared Becca for the situation. She had been planning to do things alone. While spending less time with her best friend might be difficult at first, she'd be happy for him.

  Donovan opened the box to show her the ring. “I know you’re not quite forty yet. Is there any way we could move up the time line? You know to where I’m forty, and you’re thirty-eight?”

  Two and two were not making four. Out of nowhere, the man who consistently drew the line of friendship to make sure they honored it was proposing? Becca threw out the first logical reason that came to her mind. “Is this some sort of a midlife crisis thing? Like the male version of your biological clock is ticking?”

  “Oh. No. It's nothing like that." Donovan grinned sheepishly, "I’ll just come clean. You see, my grandfather had a trust fund for me. If I am not married before turning forty-one half the money goes to charity. It’s quite a bit of money too. Since we were close to the ages in that agreement, I thought you might want to help me out.”

  Secretly she always dreamed of Donovan proposing to her. It was the agreement with him that got her to where she was now. Every time she was in a relationship that went south, in the back of her mind she knew Donovan was on the other side of things. But her mind had a more romantic image. Dinner, warm gazes over candlelight, cuddling while watching television. Let’s get married so I can make a lot of money was the farthest thing from her mind.

  “If that isn’t the most romantic proposal I have ever heard,” Becca rolled her eyes.

  “I know. I’m sorry. You were the first person that came to my mind in the meeting with my grandmother and her lawyer, Bill.”

  Hearing that warmed her a little. But not enough to say yes.

  “If I were going to spend six months with someone I’d prefer it being you. We spend so much time together anyway. It would just be under one roof.”

  There was the cold glass of water to bring things back to reality. He only wanted to be married for six months. Becca cursed her fate. She thought Donovan was different. Actually, he was. The men she dated in the past acted like they were serious about her. Time proved otherwise. At least Donovan was truthful. She had to give him points for integrity. Not enough to agree with his idea, but enough to appreciate his character.

  She must have made a face because Donovan added, “I mean it. I thought it would be fun. We already do everything together. This would just make it a little more exclusive.”

  “Thank you for thinking of me.” Becca held back the disappointment rising within her. She knew that she wasn't as pretty as the other women Donovan dated. For as long as she'd known him, which was for all of their lives, he had spent the majority of his dating life with women who looked like they needed to eat an entire Thanksgiving dinner. Her love of food was one of the reasons why Becca was so physically active. As long as she was healthy, she allowed herself to eat whatever she wanted, which meant she had curves where Donovan's previous girlfriends lacked them.

  Becca waved at the people at the tee box waiting for their turn on the course. “Don't get me wrong. I am flattered that you thought of me as a solution to your problem. But I don't think I'm what you need." She walked to the edge of the green to return her putter to the golf bag.

  All of a sudden, playing golf didn't appeal to Becca. She didn't want to disappoint Donovan, but being a consolation prize did little to help her self-esteem. "I probably should get going so you can go find your future Mrs. Garrison.” She placed her club back into the bag and circled around to push it in the direction of the clubhouse.

  “I already found her.” Donovan placed himself in front of Becca and blocked her way. “Becca. Please. Don’t be like this.” He tenderly pried her hand off the clubs and pulled her off the course to the grass.

  There were a thousand other places Becca wanted to be. At this point in time, she would volunteer for a root canal. Her mind scrambled for the right words to help him understand why his suggestion was the worst thing she'd ever heard.

  “I don’t want it to be anyone else but you. It’s only two years short of what we agreed. I know you’re not seeing anyone else right now. This is perfect for the both of us.”

  She searched Donovan’s chocolate brown eyes for something to tell her he cared for her. All she saw was he needed her. Logic said leave. Then reality joined the conversation. They used Donovan’s pickup to get to the course.

  “I bet after eighteen holes I can convince you that us being together is a good idea."

  Her heart wasn't in it. Becca had eighteen holes to help him find an alternative solution. Before she had time to say it, Donovan had cupped her chin in his hand and gently tilted her face to make eye contact. Then he did the last thing Becca ever expected. He kissed her. Right there on the edge of the first hole of the golf course.

  Her eyes blinked as her mind processed what had just happened. Donovan had kissed her, and she liked it. This was not good. Not good at all.

  Becca heard of people who married for convenience or were in arranged marriages. Every time she felt sorry for them and wondered what were they thinking. Now she knew. It was something along the lines of “Oh Em Gee! What am I doing?”

  Donovan repeated his challenge. "I bet that after eighteen holes of golf I can get you to agree to be my wife."

  If he hadn’t stunned her with the kiss, she might have told him no. Not only was his idea crazy. It wouldn’t work. But his kiss muffled her logical side. The part of her that liked the kiss was curious. What could this man do to convince her to give up her independence for six months?

  His interesting attempt at persuasion began immediately. At the second hole, he placed his hands on her hips and rubbed the area on her back to show her how to straighten her posture. On the fourth hole, he caressed the area between her shoulders to show her how to improve her swing. Suggestion by suggestion, her score improved. But her mind was lost.

  At the fifth hole, she waved her finger in caution. "Just let me do it by myself."

  "Is that defeat I hear in your voice?" His purr woke something in her gut.

  "No," Becca grumbled. He had turned her body into an ally for his cause, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

  "Does it bother you that I know your body better than you?" He flirted.

  "Oh, for the love of Jack Nicklaus!" Becca exclaimed, "Let me hit the ball."

  He grinned, "By all means. Go right ahead."

  She swung, and the ball flew farther than she'd ever been able to hit it. A wind took hold of the ball and carried it beyond the hole and over the bank into the creek that ran along the edge of the green. It seemed that nature was on Donovan's side.

  "I have a solution to all that pent-up energy." He handed her another ball to tee off.

  "I do too." Becca barked. She added, "A five-mile run." But, she suspected it might have required a couple more miles.

  A golf cart full of gray haired golfers had arrived. Donovan told them to go ahead, and he took Becca to a bench that was a short distance from the tee box. "Becca, you know that once I set my mind to something it happens. My mind is set, and my grandmother approves. I want you. I want to be the one that gets you flustered and is the one responsible for the contented smile. I want to be the first thing you see in the morning and your last thought before yo
u fall asleep."

  He almost sounded sincere. If a trust fund wasn’t involved, Becca would have believed him. “If it doesn’t work out after six months we'll go back to being friends?”

  His touch was making her crazy. It took everything in her to stay on her logical side.

  Donovan caressed her forearm and lowered his voice. “I wouldn't be lying if I said, I hope it's for the long term.”

  And logic got up and admitted defeat. “We’d have a prenup. I don’t want people thinking that I’m in it for the money. Because I’m not.”

  “Of course.” Donovan's lips slowly formed a smile that declared victory. “We get along so well together I bet we’ll wish we’d have done it sooner.”

  The enormity of the decision pounded into Becca’s chest. How would she explain the situation to her parents if it didn’t work out? Donovan stood in front of Becca and pulled her into a hug. The warmth returned to his voice. “I promise you won’t regret this decision.”

  “I didn’t say yes.”

  Donovan placed his hands on each of her shoulders and looked her in the eye. His voice took on a sexy growl that made her world fall apart. Maybe if she had looked away, she’d have had a chance. But she didn’t. He leaned in to kiss her and like a moth to the flame, her reflexes followed, and their lips met. The kiss tasted like honey tinted with a hint of pepper. She’d always suspected, and the kiss confirmed her secret interpretation of Donovan Garrison. He was sweet and spicy at the same time. At the end of the kiss, Becca released a sigh and Donovan smiled. She recognized the smile. It was the smile that Donovan saved for when he won. He was right. Donovan knew her better than she thought he did.

  He called out to the four players at the tee box. "She just said she'd marry me! And it only took me five holes

  to get her to say it."

  Some Guys Have All The Luck

  He couldn't wait until Monday to let his best friends know the news. As soon as Donovan dropped Becca off at her house, he texted Kent. “Meet me at the pub. Drinks are on me.”

  Kent sat on the bar stool furthest away from the door in front of the large screen television, and Keane was stationed in his spot behind the beer taps. His friends knew him so well he didn’t have to say a word. They knew.

  Keane set the first mug of beer in front of Donovan. “Let me get this straight. You just said remember that crazy idea we had twenty years ago? Let’s do it? And, she said yes?”

  Donovan answered candidly, “I did mention a significant loss of money was in the works if I didn’t get married.” He took a swig of beer and swallowed. When he said it aloud, it sounded rather cold. “There was a kiss after she agreed to help me.” He might as well get all of it out there. If there was a kink in his plan, they’d see it and help him make the necessary adjustments.

  “There was no date per say or hanky panky that we don't know about." Keane placed the second mug of beer in front of Kent. "You told her that you were marrying her for money and she went along with it?”

  “I know it sounds harsh.” Even if it was true, Donovan didn’t like the hint of sarcasm he heard in Keane’s voice. Then again Keane had said proposing without a courtship was a bad idea. Donovan knew Becca. If he turned romantic out of nowhere, Becca would have grown suspicious. Then when he told her the truth she'd have been hurt. No, it was better to tell her the truth from the get go.

  “I’m not judging,” Keane waved away the miscommunication. “I didn’t know we had that sort of a woman in our town. Do you think there are more like her?” He quickly added, “I’m just asking for a friend.”

  Donovan and Kent guffawed at their friend’s solicitation. After his wife’s death, Keane had been a committed bachelor. He was friendly enough and talked to the women in town, but that was as far as it went. Even after her death, he was still married to his first wife. The wedding band on his left hand was evidence of it.

  “It took me five holes of golf to get her to say yes and four more to convince her it was a good idea.”

  “You proposed on the golf course? How did you manage that?”

  “I let her beat me at the first hole. After I made it, I pretended to put her ball in my pocket. When she accused me of stealing her ball, I pulled the ring box out of my pocket and handed it to her.” Donovan’s voice retold the story with more confidence than he felt. He had worried that she'd notice the bulky box in his pocket. Or worse, what if the box fell out before he was ready to give it to her? He’d lose the element of surprise.

  “And she said yes?”

  “She said no,” he admitted. However, he expected no. One of the things he loved about Becca was her level-headed approach to situations. Donovan waved his finger to indicate he had a counter plan. “Of course, she said that she didn’t want to ruin our friendship. That was when I brought up the agreement we made in our twenties.”

  “And that worked?” Kent, who had been listening silently since he sat on the stool beside Donovan, joined the conversation.

  “No. But I knew I had seventeen holes to wear her down.”

  “How exactly did you do that?”

  Donovan felt the chemistry between them in the water the day before. If he hadn't had a bigger prize in mind, he'd have done something about it. Not being one to kiss and tell, he lied, “I explained that marriage is not hearts and flowers. It’s two people coming together to form a team to make it through life. Since we were already a team, it was only right that we made it official.”

  Kent shook his head. “You’re not telling us something.”

  One of the benefits of being friends for a lifetime was the ability to see hints of emotions people would rather hide. Donovan saw it in Becca all the time. She’d pretend to be confident, but something in her voice always gave it away. Now, it was working against him. Kent and Keane had probably picked up on something he didn’t want them to know. Donovan had every intention of marrying Becca when they were in their twenties. He had never admitted it to either Keane or Kent because he didn’t want them to call him out for not following through. Love was complicated. Loving a best friend was that much more difficult.

  To shake them off the trail that was too close for Donovan’s comfort, he tinted the truth by giving only half the information. “I told her if she didn’t like it after six months we'd go back to how it was before we got married.” Of course, it wouldn’t be an issue. As soon as Becca saw how well they got along, she’d stay with him. The proposal wasn’t under ideal circumstances, but the intent behind it was sincere.

  Donovan had spent most of their adult life on the outskirts of Becca’s life watching her choose men that weren’t right for her. He’d helped her see a couple times that the guys she dated were dirt bags. Because of the way the truth came about, he couldn’t exactly press the issue. He waited for a sign that there was some interest beyond friendship from her. None came, so he pretended to be satisfied with them being friends. Thanks to a little prod from his grandfather’s will that was about to end.

  “Seriously, some guys have all the luck.” Kent pushed his empty glass in Keane’s direction. “Which is why he’s going to buy the next round too.”

  Just Six Months

  Soggy from the spring showers, Becca and Abigail passed by the front window and headed for the door to the pub. Abigail had returned to Three Creeks and was rebuilding friendships from before she had left town over twenty years ago. Becca was glad that her long lost friend had returned to the roost. Secretly she hoped something would develop between her and Kent. They both were kind people. And, then they could go out on group dates. She had been engaged for a day and was already planning couple’s events. Becca thought to herself, “Maybe Donovan’s idea wasn’t so crazy after all.”

  Without giving it a second thought, Becca went to the edge of the bar where she knew she'd find Donovan sitting with Kent. She guessed from their postures that they were in the middle of an intense discussion about something they saw on the television.

  “What can I get you
, ladies?” Keane pressed his hands into the bar while waiting for their answer.

  “Water is good enough for me,” Abigail said.

  “Can I have an order of chips to go?” Becca set her bag on the seat beside her.

  “Do you really want to eat chips?” Keane inquired, “Usually brides are trying to watch their weight. You know. So they can still fit in the dress on their wedding day.”

  The four people on the other side of the bar fell silent. Not understanding their reaction, Keane asked, “What? I’m just repeating what I’ve heard other brides say.”

  “Good point,” Becca replied. “Forget the chips. I think I’m going to head to the community center and hit the gym.” She returned the strap of the bag to her shoulder and said to Donovan, “I’ll call you when I get home.”

  “I didn’t mean for you to leave?” Keane tried to apologize.

  “Don’t worry about it.” Becca waved his comment away. ”No harm, no foul,” Keane's reaction was exactly why she hated relationships. People set expectations that weren't fair. Like all of a sudden, she wasn't going to eat potato chips for a wedding that she had three weeks to plan.

  She took out the beginning of her anger on the treadmill. When that didn't work, she lifted weights. All she needed was Keane's smart comment about her arms being flabby. After forty minutes of lifting dumbbells in every way imaginable, her arms were noodles, and her mind had numbed. She'd forego dinner, have a protein drink, and use her exhaustion to help her fall asleep.

  As she stepped into the shower, Becca considered the virtue of the tiff with Keane. Thanks to the workout, she might get in some good REMs. Several times the night before, she disrupted her sleep when she woke in a sweat with the same question. What if she fell too deep in love with Donovan and couldn't recover from the breakup she feared was coming? She promised herself seventy-two hours. If she still felt this way after three days, she’d call off the wedding, or suggest they secretly elope and have alternate living arrangements.