Chapter Twenty-Two
Kyra was getting married.
She still couldn’t believe it, and sort of floated through the next day, marveling at how her life had spiraled and flipped and somersaulted into this engagement. She was equal parts happy and worried and confused and certain . . . but she could not deny that after last night in Dax’s dark room, when he’d made love to her so tenderly that it made her heart ache with longing, she’d felt something inside her move off center.
She couldn’t pinpoint the moment when she’d changed her mind about his offer, or what had made her kiss Ruby’s forehead while she slept and then slip out of the cottage last night. But it had happened during her conversation with Mrs. McCauley.
After Dax had left yesterday afternoon, Kyra had walked up to Mrs. McCauley’s to fetch her daughter. Mrs. McCauley was marginally aware of the issues with Ruby’s health, and she’d asked why Ruby was talking about doctors.
Kyra told her landlord the truth, spelling out certain words like surgery and tumor so that Ruby, who was otherwise preoccupied with putting icing on their cake, wouldn’t take note of the conversation.
“Oh dear,” Mrs. McCauley said and caressed the top of Ruby’s head. “Oh my. That must be overwhelming for you.”
“Look!” Ruby said, displaying the mess she’d made on one side of the cake.
“That’s beautiful, sweetie,” Mrs. McCauley said.
“It is overwhelming,” Kyra admitted. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“Well, of course not,” Mrs. McCauley said. “Do you have any family to help you?”
Kyra shook her head. “Just my dad in Florida, but he . . . he’s not much help.”
Mrs. McCauley nodded. “Don’t be afraid to lean on your friends.”
Kyra snorted. “I lean too much as it is.”
“What’s that?” Mrs. McCauley said. “You seem quite self-sufficient to me, Kyra. Trust me, I have a granddaughter named Skylar who is someone who leans too much, and I swear that girl can’t tie her own shoelaces without someone’s help. No, you have a good head on your shoulders, and you work for what you’ve got.”
Kyra smiled. “Thanks.” She wished it was as simple as working for what she had.
“Now, Dax, there’s a good friend,” Mrs. McCauley said a bit slyly.
Dax was more than that—he was her knight in shining armor. “He’s been very helpful,” Kyra agreed.
“He kissed Mommy,” Ruby announced.
Mrs. McCauley arched a brow. “He did, did he?”
Kyra blushed. “Ah . . . he’s been great, he really has,” she said, bypassing the kiss remark. “But I feel as if I am taking advantage of him.”
“Can’t take advantage of someone unless they allow it,” Mrs. McCauley said. “You have to look at it from his point of view. He’s been alone for a long time, mean as a snake, and with no one to talk to but that flower-digging dog.”
“Otto,” Ruby offered.
“Otto,” Mrs. McCauley agreed. “No one can live like that for long, Kyra. Everyone needs a purpose, a reason for getting up. Maybe he found that in you and Ruby.”
She hadn’t really thought of it that way. “But that doesn’t make it fair,” she said.
“For heaven’s sake,” Mrs. McCauley said and clucked her tongue at Kyra. “What’s fair in this world? Seems to me that man has some pretty broad shoulders, if you ask me.”
Maybe Mrs. McCauley was right. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing to let Dax help her in this way. And maybe . . . maybe there was a small part of her that wanted this thing between them to go on forever. She really did love him.
She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe she was actually going to marry him for insurance.
Deenie really couldn’t believe it.
Kyra had asked Deenie to meet her at the municipal park where she’d brought Ruby to play for the afternoon. It felt like madness to keep this news to herself, and Kyra desperately needed to tell someone, anyone. She thought—okay, she hoped—that Deenie would reaffirm her decision to take Dax up on his offer when she’d explained it all.
But Deenie didn’t do that. She frowned, and she frowned deeply. “That is the dumbest thing I ever heard, Kyra.”
Kyra’s bubble instantly began to deflate. “It’s for the insurance.”
“What is it for him?”
“I don’t . . . I think he just wants to help.” She thought about what Mrs. McCauley had said, that she and Ruby were his purpose, but in the glare of Deenie’s disapproving look that sounded silly.
“Wow, you sound so certain,” Deenie said sarcastically.
Doubt began to creep into Kyra’s thoughts. She could probably google it—what does it mean when a guy offers to marry you so you can use his insurance?—and find all kinds of reasons to assure her this was a bad idea. Maybe she should have done that before she’d crept into his bed or so excitedly texted Deenie. But Kyra shook that off—she knew Dax. Mrs. McCauley was right—he wanted to help. Kyra wasn’t gullible—she knew what she was doing.
“That’s insurance fraud, anyway,” Deenie said as she examined her lipstick in a compact mirror.
“Is it?” Maybe Kyra didn’t know so well what she was doing.
“Yes! You can’t marry someone just to use their insurance and then divorce them.”
Kyra hadn’t said anything about divorce. She had very specifically not said anything about divorce because of her hope that this horrible awful nightmare would turn into a fairy tale and that maybe, just maybe, it could really work. She’d heard crazier stories, people who didn’t know each other and married, and somehow it had all worked. Hell, the TLC network dedicated show after show to improbable unions. And what about the Bachelor franchise? It could happen. She wanted to argue this with Deenie, but she wasn’t getting a conciliatory vibe off her friend.
“And what if he’s really into you and this is his way of sealing the deal? Then you’re just taking advantage of him.”
The heat of shame crept up her neck. But Kyra wasn’t taking advantage of him. She and Dax clearly understood one another. Didn’t they?
Deenie was frowning at her, and Kyra had to consider that maybe they didn’t understand each other. After all, wasn’t she already beginning to treat him differently? Wasn’t she treating him with deference because he was saving her daughter, instead of the way she might treat a boyfriend? This morning, when he’d wanted to take Ruby to see Jonathan, hadn’t she said yes because . . . because she didn’t want to displease him?
“I don’t know, Kyra,” Deenie said and stood up, hooking her purse over her shoulder as she glanced at her watch. “It just sounds really crazy to me.”
“What am I supposed to do, Deenie?” Kyra exclaimed. “My daughter has a brain tumor—”
“I’m sure there is a way you can get help without getting married. This just smacks of desperation.” She peered down at Kyra. “Wait—you’re not doing this because of Phil, are you?”
“Phil! What are you talking about?”
“Do you maybe think this is your chance to be married?”
That remark hit Kyra squarely in the gut. “No! Jesus, Deenie, give me a little credit! I’m not desperate like that! This is about Ruby, and that’s all.”
“Is it, really?” she asked, then glanced at her watch. “Look, I gotta go.” Deenie leaned down to kiss Kyra’s cheek. “I’m sorry if I upset you. But if I won’t say it, who will?” she asked cheerfully and winked. “See you tomorrow.”
Kyra nodded, her head still spinning from the conversation. She’d thought this meeting would be fun. She’d thought they’d talk about dresses and venues and who should come. Jesus, Deenie spoke to her like she was living in a fantasy land.
When Deenie left, Kyra turned her attention back to Ruby. She was annoyed with her friend. This was not a winking matter. This was not a girlfriends-talking-about-boyfriends conversation. Okay, maybe she’d started the conversation that way, but really, this was serious, and Deenie shouldn’t have dismissed it so readily. This was deadly serious.
And yet the conversation left Kyra feeling a little funny. Like the universe had pitched forward and she was leaning back to keep from falling.
The confusing vacillation between loving Dax and worrying that she was using him trailed Kyra like a tail for many days afterward. Their routine returned to normal: Dax watched Ruby while Kyra worked, and Kyra cooked dinner for him and took his laundry with her every morning. Once or twice, as she watched the clothes go round and round in the washer, she wondered if she and Dax had assumed their roles in preparation for a fake marriage, and it was nothing more than that. If she was completely honest with herself, she might admit there was something else that was bothering her—Dax had not said how he felt about her. Yes, he was attentive and kind and—give the man props—wonderful in bed. But he hadn’t said he loved her or was falling in love with her.
And as if the burden of her guilt wasn’t heavy enough, Kyra felt even more guilt for wanting him to say anything more than he already had. What more did she need from him? He’d made a grand and selfless gesture, and now she wanted him to spice it up by declaring deep feelings for her after only a short time dating? Now that was unfair.
Kyra was making herself crazy.
But she’d set the wheels in motion, and all of this angst and uncertainty was just going to have to work itself out, like that knot in her shoulder she sometimes got from carrying trays. They had the marriage license. Dax was on the hunt for someone to officiate. They sat Ruby down together and explained to her that Mommy and Dax were going to get married so they could help Ruby together. “Help me what?” she asked.
“Do all the doctor stuff,” Kyra said.
Ruby blinked. As Kyra expected, Ruby didn’t really understand the importance of marriage in this context. In fact, she shrugged and said, “Okay. Will we all live here?”
“Maybe someday,” Dax had said before Kyra could respond. “But for now, we like having two cottages.”
They hadn’t actually decided that. Frankly, they’d been so busy with everything else, they hadn’t really discussed the living arrangements. “Me, too!” Ruby said. “All my toys are in this house.”
Kyra glanced at Dax. He shrugged a little. When Ruby ran off to get another doll, Kyra said, “We’re going to keep the two cottages?”
“We’ve got enough going on, don’t we?” Dax said. “It’s not like we have to make that decision right now.”
Well, no, they didn’t . . . but she wondered about it.
But in the meantime, they’d agreed to marry the week between Ruby’s MRI and the start of school. The week after school started, Kyra was taking her real estate license exam.
All the wheels were moving in the right direction for Ruby’s sake, and Kyra couldn’t ask for more.
In the meantime, Kyra kept a close eye on her daughter, looking for signs that her seizures were worsening. She agreed with Dax that they were more frequent. The next MRI couldn’t get here fast enough.
The other issue that occupied Kyra’s thoughts was an old and familiar beast—her finances. She was finishing up her real estate coursework, and she owed the last installment of the cost of the course. Her savings account was on oxygen. Short of picking up more shifts, she wasn’t far from needing to borrow money. Every day she checked her mailbox for the money Josh had promised to send, but it didn’t come.
That he hadn’t followed through on his promise infuriated Kyra, and one afternoon she called his number. It rolled to voice mail. Hello, you’ve reached Josh Burton. Please leave a number . . .
“Josh,” she said. “It’s Kyra. You said you would send some money to help me and I haven’t received it. Just in case you lost the address, I’m going to text it to you. Please,” she said and winced when her voice cracked. “Please help me with this.” She meant to hang up with that, but paused and said, “I haven’t asked you for anything in seven years, and believe me, I wouldn’t now if it wasn’t an emergency. This is important, Josh—really important. She’s your daughter, too.” She hung up, and with a sigh, she tossed her phone into her backpack. She didn’t expect to hear from him.
The following weekend, the Caldwells left and took Ruby’s playmates with them. Mr. McCauley, who had come to trim the hedges in front of Kyra’s cottage Sunday afternoon, announced that the Bransons were leaving at the end of the week.
“Who am I going to play with?” Ruby complained.
“This is what happens at the end of summer,” Mr. McCauley said. “The summer people leave and the year-rounders settle in for the long off-season.”
“Guess what?” Ruby said to Mr. McCauley. “Dax made a baby bed for my new doll.”
Kyra, who was in the hammock enjoying a couple of hours before studying, turned her head. “What new doll, pumpkin?”
Ruby looked around. “Dax bought me a doll.”
“He did?”
“He painted the baby bed white. It’s drying in his shed and I’m not supposed to touch it until he says. He said you could make a mattress out of a towel, Mommy. Do you have a towel?”
“Probably,” Kyra said and sat up.
Her screen door swung open, and Dax stepped outside wearing a red, frilly apron someone had given Kyra as a gift years ago.
Mr. McCauley eyed him from below the porch. “Taking up a new profession?”
“Got a new pasta machine,” Dax said proudly and placed his hands on his hips.
Mr. McCauley laughed and picked up his clippings. “Don’t give up on the furniture business just yet,” he said as he wandered away.
“You’re full of surprises today,” Kyra said, standing up from the hammock. “How’d you learn to make baby beds and pasta?”
“What, you think my college degree is just for show?”
Kyra stilled. “You have a college degree?” she asked as Ruby darted in front of her to go inside.
He looked at her with amusement. “Didn’t I tell you? Yes, I have a degree in business.” He gestured for her to come in.
How did she not know he had a college degree? She had assumed he’d gone into the army out of high school.
“Here’s my doll, Mommy,” Ruby said, suddenly appearing before her and holding up a baby doll.
“She’s adorable!” Kyra said, and to Dax, “You didn’t have to do that. You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why not?” he asked with a shrug.
“Why not? Because I don’t want her to think she can have whatever she wants just for asking.”
“Hey, Coconut, will you go next door and feed Otto?” Dax asked.
“Yes!” she said enthusiastically, and with her new doll tucked in her arm, she ran out the door. They could hear her call for Otto.
"So what's the big deal with it?" Dax asked. “Sometimes a kid ought to get something just for asking. And it’s not like I’m getting her a new toy every day.”
“The big deal is that I can’t afford to buy her toys except for special occasions, and you keep giving her things, and I didn’t know you went to college.”
Dax arched one brow. “And?”
“And . . . I wonder what else I don’t know.”
Now the other brow rose to meet the first. “Are you implying I’m hiding things from you?”
“No, of course not!” she said and rubbed her forehead, trying to form her thoughts, to make sense of the confusion. “Dax . . . what if there was no Ruby?”
“What?”
“What if Ruby was fine, or I didn’t have her. Would we . . . would we get married?”
Dax folded his arms. “I’m not sure what you’re asking.”
“Would we even be dating? Would we be us?”
“We are us,” he said, his expression annoyed now.
She wasn’t making herself clear. She was apparently incapable of expressing the doubts that she harbored. “You know what I mean,” she said.
Dax considered her as he casually scratched his chin. “I don’t know.”
That wasn’t terribly reassuring. In fact, it was terribly unsettling.
“Don’t read too much into that,” he said quickly. “You have to understand, Kyra—I never thought I’d marry again, and I think if things had been . . . normal . . . it would have taken some time to get used to the idea of marriage.”
“So . . . you’re doing this just to help Ruby.”
He looked confused. “You know that.”
“It has nothing to do with me.”
Now Dax looked flabbergasted. He pushed away from the door and moved toward her. “Of course it has to do with you. I’m crazy about you—you know that, too. Look, if this hadn’t happened to Ruby, I would have seen where it was going between us before I ever thought of marriage.” He put his hands on her arms, caressing her. “It means everything accelerated with us because of her condition. It means all things being equal, I probably would have taken it slow, because that’s my nature. But please don’t doubt I offered to do this for you every bit as much as I did for Ruby.”
He still hadn’t said how he truly felt about her. Being crazy about someone is what people said when they were dating. Not when they were about to get married. “You’re making a huge sacrifice, and people don’t make that kind of sacrifice for no reason.”
He looked slightly flummoxed. “Why are we having this conversation? I love that kid,” he said.
If only Kyra could explain why. If only she understood why. All she knew was that things were happening so quickly, and she loved him, and she wanted him, but she didn’t know if he wanted her in the same way or if he was on some humanitarian mission. Those were two very different things. He could say he loved Ruby, and for that Kyra was thankful, because she loved Ruby, too. But he obviously couldn’t say the same to her, and she couldn’t keep the doubts she had about his feelings for her from swirling.
“What is it?” he asked, bending down a little to look her in the face. “This isn’t news to you.”
“No, no, I understand,” she said. “And I’m grateful—”
“I fed Otto!” Ruby shouted as she came running into the house. “He ate it superfast, and then he threw up on the floor.”
“God,” Dax sighed. He touched Kyra’s cheek. “More on this later, okay?” He took off the apron and left her cottage to take care of Otto’s disaster.
They dined on homemade pasta that evening, which they all agreed could use some work. After dinner, Dax went off to take care of some things while Kyra spent time with Ruby. She was in the middle of a story about a girl who lassoed a star and brought it to earth when she heard the faint sounds of Ruby snoring. She was curled around the baby doll Dax had given her.
She wished she hadn’t made a big deal about the doll. She wasn’t herself these days; she was twisting around in her own head.
She slowly stood up and crept out of Ruby’s room, then returned to the kitchen to clean up. She was finishing with the dishes when Dax returned. He walked up behind her, braced his hands on the kitchen sink, surrounding her, and kissed her neck.
Kyra closed her eyes and leaned back against him. No matter what her doubts, no matter how exhausting the days and no matter how high her increasing anxiety, there was something so soothing and sure about his touch.
His hands slid up her sides and he turned her around. His kiss was intoxicating, his touch almost fevered. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her aloft, walking slowly to her room with her as he kissed her. In her bedroom, they moved without words, both of them pulling and tugging at each other’s clothing, one of them reaching for a condom. There were no words between them—the desire in them felt equal and frantic, and perhaps Kyra was reading too much into it, but she had the feeling that Dax was trying to tell her something.
Dax put Kyra on the bed and shifted on top of her. He stroked her face, then shifted, his fingers brushing against her breast. “You captivated me from the moment I saw you moving boxes into this cottage, do you know that?”
Kyra didn’t know if she believed him, but she kissed him and slid her hands down his chest, over his nipples, to his abdomen. She nuzzled his neck, pressed her breasts against him.
“I wouldn’t have offered to marry you if I didn’t care about you,” he said and slid his hand between her thighs.
Kyra closed her eyes and surrendered to his touch. Her desire for him was potent, and as his hands and his mouth caressed her, she felt herself beyond caring what any of it meant. She just wanted to be with him, wanted to feel him slide into her and to cover him with kisses of adoration.
He began to move in her, driving her to the brink, his strokes growing urgent. Kyra plummeted with her release, Dax right behind her. As their skin began to cool, she clung to him, unwilling to let go. If she let go, reality would seep back into this room. If she held him, she could pretend that this was what was supposed to happen between them.
But eventually Dax dislodged himself from her and rolled onto his back. He groped around for her hand, then tangled his fingers in hers. “I’m going to deliver that damn table tomorrow, then go and see Jonathan,” he said and sat up. “What do you have planned?”
Kyra yawned, drowsy and sated. “Study,” she said sleepily.
He kissed her, then moved off the bed. “I’ll see you tomorrow evening?” he asked as he pulled on his jeans and zipped them up.
“I’ll be right here,” she said. She curled around a pillow and watched him dress. He leaned over her one last time to stroke her hair. “Are we good, babe?”
“We’re good,” she assured him. In that moment, she was good. This man was everything she could ever want, and she was too sleepy now to think about how he said he cared for her, and how that sounded like a line from a movie, spoken by a player who wasn’t ready to commit.
Only in this movie, the player was committing a noble sacrifice to save a child. He was, truly, a hero.