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The Good Kind of Crazy. Tanya MichaelsЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Good Kind of Crazy - Tanya  Michaels


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he loved his wife; it had more been a matter of Douglas being insufferable to live with. Growing up with three sisters had probably screwed him up. He tried to joke and charm his way out of every situation, until Zoe had come to the conclusion that he didn’t take their relationship seriously. Though no one thought Douglas had cheated on his wife, Neely could understand how watching him use that flirtatious charm on every other female who crossed his path could get old fast. At least one infatuated paralegal had gotten the wrong idea, later to be transferred to another branch of the firm while Douglas shrugged off the awkward situation by teasing that even if the young woman had jumped to a bad conclusion, she had good taste in men.

      Her brother cleared his throat. “I do hope you’re together till death do you part and all that morbid romantic stuff, but just as a standard precaution, I could recommend someone really top-notch to handle a prenup at a fair price.”

      Some brothers would threaten a suitor with “If you ever hurt her, they’ll never find your body,” but Douglas played to his strength, legal advice. Of the two options, his was more useful. “Thanks. It’s a sensible suggestion.” She’d already been tossing it around in her mind, just hadn’t found the perfect way to ask Robert about it. Mostly, she loved his romantic streak and sometimes even envied the emotion that came so easily to him. But to broach this subject, she needed him to be logical, not sentimental.

      Douglas grinned. “You always were sensible. I would have even said predictable, until Sunday. Blew us away with your little announcement.”

      “Didn’t think I could land a husband, huh?”

      “Didn’t think you’d ever want one. You’re very…self-contained.”

      The words came out like the same type of reverse compliment as “she has a good personality.” “I have a social life, care about my friends.” She cared about her family, too, even though seeing them twice in one week was a bigger dose of Mason than she was used to.

      “It wasn’t a criticism,” he assured her. “Only an observation, although maybe I’m wrong. Turns out, I’m not the expert on women I assumed I was in college.”

      Just when she was prepared to take his self-deprecating comment as a sign he was maturing, he added an impish, “But that gives me a great excuse to actively study them, right? I’m a strong supporter of a hands-on education.”

      She rolled her eyes, not wanting to hear the details of his bachelor life. “Spare me. Whether or not you plan to bring a date to the wedding is the extent of what I want to know about you and women.”

      “A date?” His gaze turned reflective. “I should bring one, shouldn’t I?”

      “Up to you. But if you show up with some busty bimbo, you’ll be hearing about it from Mom later.”

      “I don’t date bimbos,” he protested. “Now, a busty litigation secretary on the other hand…”

      Neely raised her own hands as if to deflect further conversation, resisting the urge to clap them over her ears.

      “You ready to go?” Robert called out, appearing in the hallway outside the front parlor.

      “More than.” Ignoring the face her brother made at her, she walked toward her fiancé. Her family joined them for one last goodbye.

      “I’ll see you next weekend?” Savannah asked cheerfully.

      Since a groan didn’t seem the appropriate response, Neely bit her lower lip to stifle one. She hadn’t realized when she’d accepted Robert’s proposal that it would result in all this quality family time. “You and Vi can meet me at my apartment.” With any luck, Leah would be free to join them, too.

      Beth had mentioned over dessert that Neely should start looking at dresses immediately and that it only made sense to take her bridesmaids along. Neely had been shocked her mother didn’t want to come, passing up an entire afternoon of offering her opinion, but maybe she needed all her spare time to plan the engagement party she’d announced she was throwing. A big barbecue where family and friends could meet the groom-to-be. She’d insisted Robert write down his parents’ phone number so Beth could call them next week about attending. Neely would have met them by then—hopefully she’d leave a good enough impression to counteract anything her mother said.

      Frankly, Beth was no more outspoken than any of the other women who congregated regularly to get permanents and discuss the state of the world at Lana’s Beauty Shop. But judging from Robert’s occasional starts of surprise tonight, Gwen Walsh of Vermont might phrase her opinions differently. Or less often.

      Inside her car, which Robert had offered to drive, Neely shot him a mock glare. “You know, it used to be, when I left my parents’ house, I could get away with a quick, ‘see everyone next month.’ Now it seems that for every trip here I take, I’m making two or three more appointments to see them again soon. I blame you.”

      He laughed. “Well, I would point out that some of us from smaller families and with world-traveling parents might envy that kind of, um, closeness. But I have to admit, as nice as your family is, they are exhausting. It’s hard to keep pace with your mother in a conversation, yet I was afraid if my attention wandered, I might accidentally agree to something like a new religion or trading in my car for a different model without even realizing she’d talked me into it.”

      “If I said you get used to it, I’d be lying.”

      “Maybe I will.” Grinning, he dropped his hand from the steering wheel to clasp hers. “I could surprise you.”

      “You usually do.” She’d been stunned when he first kissed her, even more stunned by her own passionate response. Passionate wasn’t an adjective she would normally apply to herself, unless describing one of her heartfelt lectures about the perils of financial mismanagement. She’d aimed several of those at Vi.

      Robert’s genuine affection for Neely still occasionally caught her by surprise, although she was adjusting. To her own feelings, as well, finding it easier to make the odd romantic gesture without feeling self-conscious. Nonetheless, while they’d acknowledged their love for each other, his marriage proposal had come as a total surprise.

      “You look so serious,” he commented.

      “Aren’t you supposed to be watching the road?”

      He made a production of leaning forward in his seat, keeping his gaze locked on the dark road that lay beyond the windshield. “Better?”

      “Yes, thank you.”

      “Good. Now are you going to tell me what’s on your mind?”

      “You.” Her thoughts didn’t exactly tumble out with ease, but hadn’t she just assured herself she was getting better at the whole intimacy thing? “I was…I’m lucky. To have you. I wasn’t expecting to fall in love. Maybe I didn’t exactly buy Aunt Jo’s predicted future of cats and scared neighborhood kids, but—”

      “Excuse me?”

      “Nothing. My family’s overreaction to me being single. And even though I didn’t agree with them, I couldn’t quite picture myself with Savannah’s perfect marriage and family in the burbs, either. I wasn’t sure what my future was, and that’s tough to admit for someone who plans as carefully as I do.” Her cheeks warmed. She sounded like some badly written For The One I Love greeting card. “I’m going to stop now, before I feel any more stupid.”

      “It didn’t sound stupid, Cornelia.” Someone who didn’t know him well would have missed the subtle teasing note interjected at the end of his otherwise sincere sentence.

      She smirked, suspecting he’d used her full name to rescue her from an uncomfortably sappy moment. “Since we’re contemplating until death do us part, it’s only fair to warn you that you’ll live longer if you don’t call me that.”

      “What about puddin’ bear? Honeykins?”

      “Only if you want to be called Snugglepuss,” she cautioned.


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