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  Sweeping her into his arms, he carried her to the bedroom, landing her on the bed. “Stay here.”

  “But—”

  “Where’s the phone?” he asked, eyeing the empty charging pad.

  “I must’ve left it in the living room. Why? Who do you need to call?”

  “I was going to call my sister to tell her that after I thoroughly make love to you, then give you your wedding present, that—”

  “You got me a present?” she asked, sitting up in the bed. “Can I have it now? It might help me make up my mind over whether or not to marry you.” She winked.

  He groaned. “Be right back. It’s in the coat closet.”

  Charity knew she was taking a risk in trusting again, but so was Adam. Bottom line, try all she might to convince herself she didn’t love him, she did. Messed up heart and all.

  Who knew? Maybe in their case, the for worse part of their vows had come first. And from here on out, there’d be nothing but for better between them.

  “Here you go,” he said, presenting her with a tin-foil-wrapped box. For a bow, he’d taped a Twinkies to the top.

  “Great wrapping,” she said, not sure whether to eat the decoration first or to commence with opening.

  “Thanks. Took me an hour to get all the foil nice and flat.”

  “I’ll bet,” she said, working hard at hiding a grin.

  If her mind hadn’t been made up before about taking him back, the sight of what was in the box would’ve had her back in her wedding dress and down the aisle in five seconds flat.

  “Oh, Adam,” she said, eyes tearing this time because any man who could make her something as goofy-wonderful as this would definitely be worth holding on to for the long haul. “It’s amazing.”

  Careful not to knock any heads off, she withdrew a mini-clay replica of her car, behind the wheel of which sat a handmade clay beetle body with a human head—hers. In the passenger seat, was beetle-Adam. In the back sat three baby beetles with cherubic cheeks and antennae.

  While she stared in wonder at the detail that must’ve taken him days to complete, he said, “I love you.”

  She gingerly set the car on the nightstand, then leaned into his waiting arms. “I love you, too. It’s an amazing gift. Thank you.”

  He shrugged. “I was going to get you that Indonesian Euchirus longimanus you’ve been wanting, but somehow that seemed more appropriate for your birthday. Anyway, thank you, too.”

  “For what? Your gift is back in our suite—and it’s just a watch. Nowhere near as much fun as this.”

  “Don’t you get it?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “You and the baby are my gift. I adore you.” And he proceeded to show her just how much for the next hour.

  “JOE?” Gillian glared at her watch. “Where do you suppose they are? Are they even together? Has my brother driven off a cliff? Or did he find Charity and she shot him? Which, I can’t in all honesty say I’d blame her for.”

  “Calm down,” Joe said, snatching a kiss. “They’ll get here when they get here.”

  And eventually, they did. And the wedding was spectacular—better than even Gillian had ever dared hope for. Partially because her dear mother was finally getting at least one of her children to be married in a Christmas wedding, but mostly because now that Adam was finally married off, everyone in her family was wholly and completely in love.

  Well—everyone might be in love, but not everyone was official. But seeing how her father planned to pop the question to Allie’s mom while they were in Paris, and how Gillian had long since gotten the framework in place should the need arise for a New Year’s Paris wedding, to say the entire family wasn’t married was at this point a mere technicality!

  Unless she counted the kids…

  “Joe?” she asked.

  “Uh-huh?”

  “How long in advance do you think I’ll have to make reservations for Meggie to be married somewhere off-the-charts exotic?”

  “Like Fiji?”

  “No. I was thinking big. More like the Taj Mahal.”

  Epilogue

  Two years later

  “You finally did it,” Adam said, shaking Caleb’s hand. They stood in Gillian and Joe’s solarium, talking over a jazz band squawking louder than the damn tropical birds Gillian had forgotten to cage. But then seeing how his sister was due any day with her and Joe’s third child, he guessed she was entitled to be a little off in her usual party-planning finesse. “Now that Franks finally retired, you’re Oregon’s youngest presidentially appointed U.S. Marshal. How’s it feel?”

  “Great,” Caleb said. “But not half as good as seeing you hold this little new one. Congratulations, man. I had my doubts about you ever getting your head out of your—well…” He smoothed the newborn girl’s blond curls. “Out of your you know long enough for you to realize what a great thing you and Charity share. But now that you have, I couldn’t be happier.”

  “Thanks,” Adam said. “I think.”

  Charity bustled up. To Caleb, she said, “Now that you’re boss, does this mean we get extra vacation?”

  Caleb snorted. “Not hardly. If anything, because you’re a Logue, you get less. Want to be in the center of a nepotism scandal?”

  Allie joined their circle. “I know Gillian and Joe are hosting this big reception to honor your new position, but do you think just once you could lose that furrow between your eyebrows and relax enough to enjoy the fruits of your labor?”

  “Maybe,” Caleb said, wrapping his arm around his wife’s waist. “Given the right incentive.” He whispered something in Allie’s ear.

  She giggled, then said to all of them, “What do you know? He came up with just the right thing.”

  After Caleb and Allie snuck off to no doubt their favorite Wild West suite, Charity asked Adam, “Want to trade babies?”

  Eyebrows raised, he said, “Don’t tell me, Duncan went again?”

  “Meggie and Chrissy gave him a few too many of those fancy puffy cheese things.”

  “Aw, man,” Adam complained. “You know how after he eats rich foods his diapers smell.”

  “Yep,” she said, holding out their son to him. “Which is why I save all of his most special diapers for you. After all—” she winked “—a promise is a promise.”

  Watching his gorgeous wife and baby girl flit off for a dance with Bear, Adam figured he was just about the happiest guy alive. Poopy diapers or not, when his Bug agreed to marry him, he’d by far gotten the better end of the deal.

  ISBN: 978-1-4603-6979-1

  TO CATCH A HUSBAND

  Copyright © 2006 by Laura Marie Altom.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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  * U.S. Marshals

 

 

 
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