The Edge of Misery: The Mitchel Brothers Series Book Two

10

"I'm not asking any old girl in town to marry me—"

"Marriage ain't a decision to make lightly, Declan—"

"I'm asking you, Wren."

She stared at him, positive she'd never felt more alive or terrified than at that moment, her stomach flipping somersaults and tingles of awareness racing up and down her body. "Then ask me."

Declan swallowed twice and licked his lips, nudging the brim of his hat up with a knuckle before he took her hands in his and said, "Will you marry me?"

"Yes," she answered without hesitation, amazed when a warm calmness settled over her from head to toe as though someone enveloped her in a blanket left by a fireplace.

A wide grin split his face, "All right, then... I'll ride out and get Preacher Evans; we'll get married tonight."

"So soon?"

"No sense in waiting—I'm already sleeping in the house. Might as well make it official."

She turned away and plopped her hands at her waist as she stared absently at the family plot, struggling to keep her tone even while she reminded herself he was only marrying her to keep them safe—not out of some deep and abiding love. "We gonna sleep in separate beds?"

Declan hesitated, then said, "Is that what you'd prefer?"

'No,' Wren's heart cried, even as she shrugged and replied, "Makes no difference to me... but separate might be better—at least for a little while."

"You sure you wanna do this?" He asked from behind, gently turning her to look at him.

"Of course," she muttered. "I said I did, didn't I?"

Tipping her face up with a bent knuckle under her chin, Declan frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothin'."

"Something's bothering you."

Wren studied him a moment, then blurted, "I wasn't expectin' we'd get married tonight, but I agree with the reasonin' behind why we should, so I won't fight you on it... But if I'm honest—"

"Which I want you to be—"

"I'm overwhelmed—"

His frown intensified. "By what?"

"By everythin' I s'pose... but most especially by how you brought Eldon back to himself again and made him laugh the way he used to before," she tearfully admitted with a chuckle, her voice breaking at the end.

Then pausing, she swallowed and hoarsely continued, "But you did—like you have some kind of magic inside you that makes you able to see what Eldon and I need 'fore we even know what it is ourselves."

Declan wiped a tear away from her cheek with his thumb, then cradled her face in his palm. "It isn't magic, Wren... I just remember how bitter that edge of misery was when my daddy died—I'd do anything to take it away from you if I could."

Acting on pure instinct and yearning, Wren braced herself against his chest as she rose on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his in what she intended to be a quick, firm kiss—as much to show her appreciation for all he'd done as to quell weeks of longing.

However, with the first touch of her mouth against his, Declan buried his hands in her hair, holding her head prisoner as he captured her lips in an unhurried, thorough exploration that tormented and thrilled her senses.

With a moan of surrender, she knocked the hat from his head as she slipped her arms around his neck and threaded her fingers through his hair, gasping in surprise when he lifted her in his arms and clutched her against his chest. Declan then took advantage of her parted lips and deepened their exchange, claiming her mouth with devouring, insatiable need that set her heart aflame, exhilarated her soul, and sent every nerve in her body into euphoric oblivion.