The Winner Takes It All: Winning Back His Wife / In Her Rival's Arms / Royally Seduced
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She didn’t believe in magic, but anticipation built over seeing this town Cullen called home.
The truck rounded a curve. Hood Hamlet came into view. Surprise washed over her. It was lovely. Picture-book perfect. Sarah could almost imagine herself in the Swiss Alps, not the Cascades, due to the architecture of the buildings.
“Welcome to Hood Hamlet.” Cullen’s voice held a note of reverence she understood now. No wonder he wanted to live here.
An Alpine-looking inn resembled a life-size four-story gingerbread house. A vacancy sign out front swayed from a wood post. Flowers bloomed in planters hung beneath each of the wood-framed windows and from baskets fastened on wood rafters. “It’s so quaint.”
They approached a busier part of the street. He slowed down. “This is Main Street.”
A row of shops and restaurants had a covered wooden sidewalk. People popped in and out of stores. A woman with three children waved at Cullen.
He returned the gesture with a smile. “That’s Hannah Willingham with her kids, Kendall, Austin and Tyler. Her husband, Garrett, is a CPA and OMSAR’s treasurer.”
A feeling of warmth settled at the center of Sarah’s chest. “Charming is the perfect way to describe Hood Hamlet.”
“You should see the place at Christmastime. The town goes all out.”
Hood Hamlet was made for Christmas, with its mountain setting, ample snow and pine trees. She would love to see it in person. Too bad she would be long gone by then. “It must be wonderful.”
“A winter wonderland.” His eyes brightened. “There’s an annual tree-lighting ceremony after Thanksgiving. The entire town turns out no matter the weather. Wreaths and garland are hung across Main Street. Every streetlight is strung with red and white lights to look like candy canes.”
It sounded so inviting and special. Her Christmases had never been like that. No holiday had been. “Is Easter a big deal in Hood Hamlet, too?”
“The town holds an annual egg hunt. It’s pretty low-key. Nothing like the shindig my mom and sisters put on. They could teach the Easter Bunny a thing or two,” he joked.
She’d found nothing humorous about it. Her hands balled. “Easter at your parents’ house was like stepping into the middle of a magazine spread or home-decorating show.”
“Holidays are big deals to my family.”
No kidding. “Your mom and sisters put Martha Stewart to shame. It was exhausting watching them do so much.” Easter with Cullen and his family had shown Sarah how different their childhoods and lives had been. Her parents didn’t do much for the holidays. Meals, special occasion or not, were eaten in front of the television or in the car, or they were skipped. She’d planned a wedding that had never happened, but she didn’t know how to cook for a huge crowd or be a proper hostess. No way could she be the kind of wife Cullen and his family expected. “I tried to help, but I only slowed them down.”
“Yeah, they go all out,” he agreed. “I love it.”
Cullen’s words confirmed what Sarah had realized back then. She would never be able to pass muster with the Grays. Her shoulders sagged. The pain shooting down her right arm matched the hurt in her heart. She forced herself to sit straight.
“Holidays are more down-to-earth in Hood Hamlet, but nice, too. Lots of town traditions,” he continued. “Santa and the Easter Bunny have been known to show up on Main Street to have their picture taken with kids and pets.”
Pets? He’d never talked about animals before. “Do you have a pet?”
“No, but if I wasn’t gone for so long when I work, I might consider getting one.”
“I thought you didn’t like dogs and cats.”
“I like them, but my mom’s allergic,” he said. “One of the guys on the rescue unit has a Siberian husky named Denali. She’s a cool dog.”
“Get a cat. They’re independent. A good pet for someone who is away a lot. Especially if you have two. That’s what my boss Tucker says.”
“I don’t know if I’m a cat person. I’d like to know a pet cares if I’m around or not.”
She knew the feeling. “Cats care, but they don’t show it.”
“Then what’s the use of having one?”
Sarah could have asked him the same question about having a husband. His serious nature and stability had appealed to her when they’d first met. He’d been the exact opposite of the other men in her life, the same men who had disappointed and hurt her. But after they’d married she realized the traits that initially appealed to her kept him from being spontaneous or showing a lot of emotion, leaving her feeling isolated and alone, like when she’d been a kid.
The one emotion he’d had no difficulty expressing was desire. No issues in that department. A heated flush rushed through her, along with more memories she’d rather forget. “You’re better off without a pet.”
Cullen made a left-hand turn onto a narrow street that wound its way through trees. Homes and cabins were interspersed among the pines.
“This is convenient to Main Street,” she said.
“Especially to the brewpub.”
Cullen’s former mountain-rescue unit in Seattle went out for beers after missions, but call outs hadn’t been weekly occurrences. She couldn’t imagine rescues were that frequent on Mount Hood. He must like to go out with his friends.
No doubt women were involved. Her left hand balled into a fist. She flexed her fingers. “That must come in handy on Friday and Saturday nights.”
“Very handy.”
The thought of Cullen with another woman sent a shudder through Sarah. “Who do you go to the brewpub with?”
“Mostly OMSAR members and a few firefighters.”
“Nice guys?”
“Yes, but not all are men.”
Her shoulders tensed. This was none of her business. Some people dated before a divorce was finalized. She shouldn’t care or be upset over what Cullen did.
A quarter mile down the road, he turned the truck onto a short driveway and parked in front of a small, single-story cabin. “This is it.”
Sarah stared in disbelief. She’d been expecting an A-frame, not something that belonged in a storybook. The log cabin was delightful, with wood beams and small-paned windows. A planter containing colorful flowers sat next to the front door. “It’s adorable. I half expect to see Snow White walk out the front door, followed by the seven dwarfs.”
He stopped the truck and set the parking brake. “It was used as a vacation rental so has curb appeal, but I wouldn’t go that far.”
“You have to admit it’s cute.”
He pulled the keys out of the ignition. “It suits my purpose.”
She opened the passenger door. “I can’t wait to see the inside.”
“Stay there.” Cullen exited, crossed in front of the truck and stood next to her. He extended his arm. “I’ll help you inside.”
She’d noticed his manners the first time they met. She’d appreciated the gentlemanly behavior. It wasn’t something she was used to and it made her feel special. Too bad she hadn’t felt as special after they married. Ignoring her soreness, she reached for his hand. “Thanks.”
“Go slowly.” He wrapped his hand around her waist. “I’ll get the luggage once you’re settled.”
She wasn’t about to argue. Not when the warmth of his skin sent heat rushing through her veins. All she had to do was make it to the front door and inside the cabin. Then she could let go and catch her breath.
Cullen escorted her toward the cabin as if she was as delicate as a snowflake. She took cautious steps, fighting the urge to hurry so she could let go of him. The scent of him embraced her. Every point of contact was sweet torture. Relief nearly knocked her over when she reached the porch step.
He squeezed her hand. “Careful.”
Yes, she needed to be careful around Cullen. Reactions to him could bring disaster down on her already hurting head.
Reaching around her with his other hand, he unlocked the door. A feeling of déjà vu washed over her. When they’d arrived in Seattle after eloping, Cullen had taken her to his apartment. He’d swept her up into his arms and carried her over the threshold. The romantic gesture had sent her heart singing and told her she hadn’t made a mistake eloping.
“It’s a good thing Snow White and her crew aren’t here, or this place would be too crowded.” He pushed open the door with his foot. “Go on in.”
No romance today. Sarah hated the twinge of disappointment arcing through her. She released his hand and stepped through the doorway.
The decor was comfortable and inviting. The kitchen was small but functional, with stainless-steel appliances and a tiled island with a breakfast bar. The bar stools matched the pine table and six chairs in the dining room that separated the kitchen from the living room. “Nice place.”
A river-rock fireplace with a wood mantel on the far wall drew her attention. She imagined a crackling fire would be nice when the temperature dropped. A large television was tucked into the space above the fireplace. A three-cushion, overstuffed leather couch was positioned in front of the fireplace/TV to the left. The perfect place to relax after a long day. Log-pole coffee- and end tables, as well as photographs and artwork, added a touch of the outdoors to the rustic yet welcoming decor. “You got new furniture.”
He closed the door behind him. “I rented this place furnished.”
“Did you put your stuff in storage?”
“I sold it.”
She glanced around. Nothing looked familiar. “Everything?”
“Most of it was castoffs from friends and family anyway. No sense dragging all that old stuff here with me.”
Sarah ignored a flash of hurt. She’d given him a framed photograph from Red Rocks on their first wedding anniversary. And then she remembered. “A fresh start.”
“Yes.”
“Nice cabin.” Much nicer than any place she’d ever lived, including the apartment they’d shared. “I can see why you signed a year lease.”
“I’m comfortable here.”
If she’d ever wondered if Cullen needed her, Sarah had her answer today. He didn’t need her. He had a nice place to live, friends and a good job. His life was complete without her.
Too bad she couldn’t say the same thing about her life without him.
CHAPTER FIVE
“SOMETHING SMELLS GOOD.”
The sound of Sarah’s voice sent a thunderbolt of awareness through Cullen, jolting him back to reality. For the past two hours he’d relished the solitude of the cabin, pretending she wasn’t asleep in the guest bedroom. He placed the hot pad on the counter, then turned away from the stove. “Dinner.”
She stood where the hallway ended and the living room began with bare feet, tangled hair, looking sleep-rumpled sexy. A half smile formed on her lips. “I didn’t expect to wake up to dinner cooking.”
He glimpsed ivory skin where the hem of her T-shirt rode up over her waistband. The top button on her jeans was undone, making him think of her shimmying out of them.
Appealing idea, yes. Appropriate, no.
Cullen focused on her face. Still a bit roughed-up after the accident, but pretty nonetheless. “You took a long nap.”
“The bed makes the mattress back at the hospital seem like a slab of granite. I felt like I was sleeping on a cloud.”
She’d tended toward the devilish in the past, making it difficult to imagine her as an angel now. “I told you this place would be better than a SNF.”
“Yes, you did.”
Having her around wasn’t turning out to be the best thing for him, though. His gaze strayed to the enticing band of bare skin. The hint of flesh tantalized, reminding him of what had been kept from him. And would never be his again.
He jammed a spoon into the pot of refried beans and stirred.
“I’m glad I listened,” she said.
He realized she was wearing the same clothes as earlier. “You can’t be comfortable in those jeans. Put on pajamas or sweats.”
Shrugging her left shoulder, she studied a photograph of Illumination Rock hanging on the wall.
His stomach dropped. “You can’t undress yourself.”
Damn. The thought of helping her had never crossed his mind. He’d been thinking about his needs, not hers.
“I probably could if I tried. Natalie told me to leave the button on my jeans undone,” Sarah said. “But I didn’t think about changing when we arrived. I hit the mattress and was out.”
Cullen felt like a jerk. He should have checked on her more carefully. But he hadn’t wanted to get too close after the drive.
Good work, Dr. Gray.
The sound of Blaine’s voice mocking Cullen, blaming him with a growing list of transgressions, was almost too much for him to take. He lowered the temperature on the beans, then checked the Spanish rice.
He should have done more for Sarah. But he’d needed a break. He might be a physician, but he was still a man. One who hadn’t kissed or touched a woman in almost a year. In spite of their marriage falling apart and the hard feelings that brought with it, undressing Sarah would have meant his needing a cold shower.
Cullen would have to get past that. He was responsible for her well-being. “I’ll help you after…”
Sarah’s face paled.
His stomach roiled. What the—
She swayed unsteadily.
Adrenaline surged. Cullen ran.
She slumped against the wall.
He wrapped his arms around her before she crumpled to the ground like a house of cards. “I’ve got you.”
Her warmth, softness and smell were like sweet ambrosia. His groin tightened. He recalled parts of the anatomy…in Latin.
“Thanks.” Her breath caressed his neck, sending pleasurable sensations through him. “I was dizzy. I must have gotten out of bed too fast.”
He would gladly take her back to bed. And join her.
Bad idea. “You’ve had a long day. It’s been a while since you ate.”
“The milk shake—”
“Food.”
She straightened. “I feel better now.”
“Good, but let’s not take any chances.” He swept her up into his arms, ignoring her sharp inhalation and how good it felt to hold her. “I don’t want you to fall.”
As if concern explained the acceleration of his pulse or his breathlessness.
Wariness clouded her eyes. “I don’t want you to strain your back.”
“Thanks for the concern, but you hardly weigh anything.” Sarah had always been fit, but never this thin. He carried her to the couch. “We’ll have to put some meat on you.”
Sarah’s gaze narrowed. “That’s not what a woman wants to hear.”
As he walked, her breasts jiggled.
Desire slammed into him, hard and fast like a line drive to third base. A fire ignited low in his gut.
Forget the Latin. Organic chemistry equations might work better. “Men like women with curves. Gives them something to hold on to.”
Awareness flickered in her eyes. Sarah parted her lips.
All he had to do was lower his mouth to hers and…
“Some men,” she said.
If he’d had a thermometer under his tongue, the mercury would have shot out the end and made a real mess. “This man.”
Tension sizzled in the air. The physical chemistry between them remained strong, and, if the past sixty seconds were anything to go by, highly combustible.
Fighting the urge to get the hell away from her before his control slipped any further, he placed her gently on the couch. “Rest while I finish getting dinner ready.”
He strode to the kitchen with one purpose in mind—put distance between him and Sarah, even if it was less than twelve feet. Attraction or not, this had disaster written all over it. She was injured. She was his soon-to-be ex-wife. Thinking of her as anything other than a patient would be…wrong.
Cullen checked the beans and the rice. He glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Time for your meds.”
“I’d rather not take them.” The back of the couch hid all but the top of her head. “They make me loopy.”
“Staying ahead of the pain is important.”
“I’m ahead of it.”
Not for long. Her voice sounded strained. He filled a glass with water and dispensed her pills. “This isn’t up for negotiation.”
She poked her head up. “Whatever you’re cooking smells so good.”
“Enchiladas.”
“One of my favorites.”
Changing the subject wasn’t like Sarah. She must not feel well. He carried the water and medicine to her. “Here you go.”
She stared at the pills as if they were poison. “Your patients must call you Dr. Hardnose.”
He handed her the pills. “They might, but not to my face. Well, except you.”
“I’m not your patient.” She shot him a chilly look, popped the pills into her mouth and drank the water. “Satisfied?”
“Very. It’s not often you do what you’re told.”
“I only took the pills because you made dinner.”
“Then it’s a good thing I didn’t tell you someone else made the meal.”
“Who?”
“Carly Porter.” He placed Sarah’s water glass on the coffee table. “She stopped by while you were sleeping.”
A thoughtful expression crossed Sarah’s face. “That sure is nice of Carly.”
Sarah’s voice sounded tight, almost on edge. A good thing she’d taken her pills. “Carly and her husband are good people. Jake’s the one who owns the brewpub.”
A corner of Sarah’s mouth curved upward in a lopsided smile. “Oh, you mentioned him earlier.”
The timer on the oven dinged.
“Dinner’s ready,” Cullen said. “You can eat on the couch.”
“I’ve been eating in bed. I’d rather sit at the table, if that’s okay?”
His stomach twisted. This would be their first meal together since she’d brought up divorce.
She touched her cast. “If you’d rather I eat here—”
“The table works.” He was being stupid. Just because the last time had ended badly didn’t mean this time would. Hell, he’d wanted to kiss her a few minutes ago. No matter how he looked at this situation, an epic fail seemed imminent. “Give me a sec.”
Cullen set the table. Utensils clattered against the plates. His hands shook. He wasn’t sure what had gotten into him, but he felt clumsy, a way he wasn’t used to feeling.
He placed the hot casserole dish, bowls of rice and refried beans and a bottle of sparkling apple cider on the table. He left the six-pack of Wy’East Brewing Company’s Hogsback Ale, courtesy of Jake, in the refrigerator. Cullen needed his wits about him with Sarah here. “Dinner’s ready.”
He helped her up from the couch, conscious of her every movement and aware of each brush of his skin sparking against hers.
She squeezed his hand. “Thanks.”
A lump formed in his throat. He grumbled, “You’re welcome,” then escorted her to the table. He kept his arm around her in case she became light-headed—yeah, that was the reason, all right—pulled out a chair and helped her sit. His hand lingered on her back.
“Everything looks delicious,” she said.
Her lips sure did. What was he doing? Sarah had an excuse for acting loopy. Cullen didn’t. He looked away and dropped his hand to his side.
“I can’t believe someone made you dinner.” She sounded amazed.
He sat across from her, then dished up chicken enchiladas smothered in a green tomatillo sauce. “Carly and Jake did this for you, too.”
“No one’s ever done something like this for me.”
He dropped a spoonful of refried beans onto her plate and then his. “People are helpful in Hood Hamlet.”
She motioned to the serving spoon in his hand. “You included.”
Cullen added a scoop of the rice. “You’ll serve yourself soon enough.”
Sarah’s shoulders drooped as if someone had let the air out of her. “I’d make a big mess right now, and you’d have to clean up after me.”
That was what she’d done with the divorce. Left him to deal with it. He took a sip of the sparkling cider. The sweetness did nothing to alter the bitter taste in his mouth. Maybe a beer wasn’t such a bad idea. Just one. He never had any more than that.
“You’re smart for serving tonight,” she continued.
A smart man would never have allowed his heart to overrule logic so that he ended up marrying a total stranger in Las Vegas. “Just trying to be helpful.”
“I…appreciate it.”
As they ate, Cullen wondered if she did. She hadn’t appreciated what he’d done when they were together.
Bubbles rose in his glass, making him think of champagne. Marriage was like champagne bubbles, first rising in pairs, then groups of three, then individually. He was thankful he and Sarah had skipped the middle part by not having a baby right away. A divorce was bad enough without having to deal with a custody battle. “It’s a practical decision. I don’t have time for extra chores tonight. I have to work the graveyard shift at the hospital tomorrow night and need to get back into my routine.”
Maybe sleeping in his bed at home would give him a restful night of sleep. He hoped so.
She studied him over the rim of her glass. “Who will be my nursemaid?”
“I found the perfect babysitter.”
Sarah stuck her tongue out at him.
That was more like it. He grinned. “We could go with nanny if you prefer.”
She waved her cast in the air. “I bet this thing could do some damage.”
“To yourself most definitely.”
“Very funny.” She feigned annoyance, but laughter danced in her eyes. “So who’s stuck here with me first?”
“Leanne Thomas,” Cullen said. “I know her from OMSAR. She’s also a paramedic.”
“Sounds capable.”
“I’d trust her with my life. In fact, I have,” he admitted. “You’ll be in good hands.
“I’m in good hands now.”
He appreciated the words, but he’d fallen down on the job this afternoon. “I’m trying to do my best.”
“You are,” she agreed. “I’m not sure how I’ll ever repay you.”
“You don’t have to.” That was the truth. He didn’t want anything from her. Well, except to finalize their divorce. Soon…“I remember what it was like.”
Wrinkles formed on her forehead. “Remember what what was like?”
“To have a broken arm.”
She leaned over the table. “When did you break your arm?”
“I was eleven.” He took another enchilada from the pan. “Want more?”
“No, thanks.” Sarah stared at him. “I had no idea about your arm. How did you break it?”
“A soccer tournament. This big kid shoved me out of bounds after I scored a goal. I landed wrong and fractured my arm in two places.”
“Ouch.”
“That’s all I could say in between grimacing and crying.” She drew back, as if horror. “You cry?”
“Past tense. I was eleven.”
“I’m teasing,” she said. “Nothing wrong with crying, no matter what your age.”
“Only if you’re an emotional, overwrought sissy man.”
“Wouldn’t want someone to take away your man card.”
“Damn straight.”
She sipped her cider. “Tell me more about your broken arm.”
He patted his mouth with a napkin. “Not much more to tell. It happened in early July, so I spent the rest of my summer in a cast. It sucked.”
“You do know how I feel.”
He nodded. “I couldn’t swim or go in the sprinklers. I wasn’t allowed to ride my bike or skateboard. No going on rides at the county fair, either. Casts weren’t allowed.”
“That must have been the worst summer of your life.”
Nope. That was a toss-up between last summer when he was trying to get over her and the summer after his brother died. But her rejection had hurt lots more than his arm fracture. He was relieved he’d moved past that. “It wasn’t fun, but I survived. So will you.”
His tone came out harsh, without an ounce of sympathy or compassion. He needed to try harder. Apologize. Being with Sarah brought out strong feelings and emotions, ones he would rather forget existed. He’d seen what losing control had done to Blaine. Cullen wouldn’t allow the same thing to happen to him.
Forks scraped against plates. Glasses were raised and returned to the table. The lack of conversation was awkward. But Cullen didn’t know what to do about it. He’d never known what to do with Sarah except kiss her and take her to bed.