A Vow, a Ring, a Baby Swing Read online

  “Okay. Now that I have your attention. Will you marry me?”

  “No.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “That’s it? Just no?”

  “Thank you, no?”

  “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

  She did know. He was being very sweet. He deserved an explanation. Unfortunately she didn’t have one. Partly because this was happening way too fast.

  “I’m not sure what part of no you don’t understand. It’s a one-syllable negative response. Fairly easy to comprehend.”

  He folded his arms across his chest and fixed her with a narrow-eyed stare. “I get it. This is my payback for not saying no to your mother, isn’t it?”

  “That would be childish. I can’t believe you think I’m that immature.”

  “There’s no way to predict how a woman will respond under the best of circumstances. But after a fiasco like today—”

  She sighed. “It’s very sweet of you to offer to do this for me. I appreciate it a lot.”

  “But you don’t believe I’m sincere?”

  She wasn’t sure what she believed. A state of shock

  “It’s about your independence, right?” He looked out the windows for a moment. “You’ve proven that you’re a grown-up. No one questions that. Part of being your own person is knowing when to ask for help, how to know when you can’t do it alone. This is one of those times. You need a husband. I can be one.”

  “True. By definition you can be a husband. But have you really thought this through? Let’s forget for a moment what I want or need. This is completely not fair to you.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’m a big boy. I know my own mind.”

  “Okay, big boy. What are we talking here? Lifetime commitment? Open-ended arrangement? Specific time frame? What?”

  He paced to the sofa and stopped to look out the windows as he rubbed the back of his neck. “How about this?” he said, turning back. “We stay together until the baby is born. Then we figure out where we go from there.”

  “Renegotiate in six months?” She thought about that. It felt so cold and wrong to consider marriage in the same breath as negotiation, which, as far as she was concerned, was a euphemism for splitsville. The Big D. Divorce. Maybe she was too much of a romantic, but she couldn’t help it. She’d cut her teeth on fairy tales, and that was hard to shake.

  “I’m sorry, Steve. I just can’t do this. Not to you.”

  “You’re not doing anything to me. It was my idea,

  “Practical? Be still my heart.”

  “You know what I mean, Ro.”

  Yeah, unfortunately she did. She’d always imagined blowing him away with her triple whammy: beauty, brains and body. But over the years she’d seen the women who attracted him and, invariably, they were her complete opposite. Tall, leggy blondes. The night she’d gone to his apartment Rosie had finally gotten the message. She would never be tall enough, or pretty enough, or skinny enough to steal Steve’s heart. And she didn’t even want to get into the hair thing. She didn’t have the time, money, or inclination to make hers straight and golden.

  She was what she was. She was okay with being short, curvy and brunette. She’d come to terms with her type. But she would rather face The Look from her parents than marry Steve because it was practical.

  Rosie shook her head. “It’s out of the question.”

  “You’re still worried about me?”

  “Not entirely.”

  “Did it occur to you that you would be doing me a favor?”

  Her heart gave a little leap. Maybe she had jumped to conclusions. Maybe he did care for her. Maybe this wasn’t merely a sensible solution. He could have feelings for her. Stranger things happened.

  “How would this be a favor for you?” she asked cautiously.

  “Your parents.”

  Rosie felt like a punctured balloon. Deflated. Her tiny bubble of hope collapsed. “What about them?”

  “If you have a husband when you tell them about

  “So this is like that thing where you save someone’s life and they own you forever.”

  “Sort of. But I don’t feel like I’m their lackey,” he said with a fleeting grin. “This is definitely payback. I owe them more than I can ever repay.”

  “If you knew my parents the way you think you do, you would know that they’d never ask you to sacrifice yourself on their behalf.”

  Her voice trembled on the last word and Rosie caught her lip between her teeth. She had experienced some low moments where Steve Schafer was concerned, but this had to be the world’s-record, low-down, bottom-of-the-lake, slimy low. She would probably live to regret this, but a girl had her pride. She wanted to receive a proposal that in some way reflected his tender feelings about her. Steve was asking her to marry him for her parents’ sake. It was too humiliating.

  “I know you’re sincere. Truly I do. I care about my parents, too. But they’re tough. They’ll get through this like every other crisis they’ve weathered. Together. My answer has to be no.”

  “For God’s sake, Rosie, be reasonable.”

  “I think I’m being exceptionally reasonable under the circumstances. Let me ask you something.”

  “Shoot,” he said.

  “What about love?”

  “What’s that got to do with anything?”

  “It has everything to do with everything, especially marriage. It should be the reason two people tie the knot, jump the broom, get hitched.”

  “I don’t believe this.” He turned away and paced in front of the windows, the same place she’d worn a path earlier.

  Suddenly Rosie was exhausted. “Go home, Steve. I’m fine. Your work here is finished.”

  He stopped and looked at her. “I already told you, I’m not leaving without you.”

  “And I told you that I’m not going home yet.” She practically collapsed onto the love seat as if to say, “And you can’t make me.” That’s mature, she thought.

  He sat on the couch at a right angle to her, his knees barely touching hers. Leaning forward earnestly, he rested his elbows on his thighs. It was such a profoundly masculine pose that she felt a tiny catch in her chest, a slight escalation in her breathing.

  “It’s the right thing to do,” he said.

  “By ‘it,’ I assume you mean marriage?” she asked.

  When he nodded, she acknowledged that he must be serious. Would it be easier to believe if he were down on one knee? Then it hit her why she was so adamant about not marrying him. She knew better than to believe for even a second that his motives had anything to do with tender feelings for her. From the time she was a little girl following him and Nick everywhere, she’d believed he walked on water. He had always included her when her brother would have ditched her.

  As a vulnerable teenager she’d believed in “happy ever after.” She had imagined Steve Schafer asking her to marry him. He would go down on one knee, take her hand and look longingly into her eyes and “pop the question” because he loved her to distraction. The proposal fantasy had never once consisted

  Oh, she knew he hadn’t said that. But that’s the way it felt. From the moment he had brought up the subject of marriage, it had been a complete and profound violation of her girlhood dream.

  “I just can’t do it, Steve,” she whispered before emotion choked off her voice.

  He took her hands in his. “Look at me, Rosie.” He didn’t say another word until she finally raised her gaze to his. She prayed there were no tears in her eyes.

  “I’m going to take a shot in the dark here,” he began. “You never once said anything about being in love with Wayne. The logical conclusion would be that you were marrying him for the sake of the baby. I can give you and the child protection from gossip with my name. So, other than the fact that I’m not the father, how would marrying me be any different? At least you know I wouldn’t take advantage of your family.”

  The baby. She’d been so caught up in being stood up at the altar,
and what her family would think about her, she’d momentarily lost sight of why she had been there in the first place. Although she wouldn’t admit it to him, Steve was right. She had been settling for Wayne. Even though she’d been determined to make it work for her baby’s sake, she couldn’t lie to herself about why she’d agreed to marry him in the first place.

  But Wayne was gone now. Unless she did something, her baby would carry the stigma of illegitimacy. Not a very nineties way of thinking, but she couldn’t help it. Maybe she had read too many books.

  The need to protect her unborn child emotionally as well as physically was deeply ingrained and profoundly instinctive. Steve was offering her a way to do that. He was old enough to know his own mind and smart enough to know what he was doing. She’d given him ample opportunity to back out, and he hadn’t. Why should she let her wounded pride get in the way of her baby’s welfare?

  Steve squeezed her hands, the pressure gentle and reassuring. “What do you say, Ro? Will you marry me?”

  It wasn’t a down-on-one knee proposal, but it was sweet enough to tug at her heart.

  She nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

  A short time later, Steve stood in the back of the chapel with Rosie beside him. He had hustled her there before she could change her mind. After securing the necessary papers through the wedding chapel, he’d convinced Judge Forbes to add them to his list of couples to marry. Now they were awaiting their turn. The justice of the peace was just finishing and they were next.

  Steve studied the top of Rosie’s curly head as she leaned over to smooth nonexistent wrinkles from her denim jumper. Her hand trembled slightly. She had wanted to put her wedding suit back on and Steve had talked her out of it. Partly because she’d worn that suit for Wayne and Steve didn’t want anything about that jerk to touch Rosie ever again. But mostly because he didn’t want to give her time to think about backing out.

  Now that they were here, he knew it wasn’t about her. It was him. He wanted to do this before he heard

  Steve didn’t know why this marriage was so important to him, he just knew it was what he had to do. The only thing that gave him pause was Nick. He had never come right out and told Steve to keep his hands off Rosie, but the message had always been there—loud and clear. Steve told himself that the reason he had Rosie in this chapel for “I do’s” wasn’t about wanting her. It was about helping her out of a jam. Once her brother understood the situation, he’d be fine with it. Besides, it was temporary at best. Soon the dust would settle and they could all go back to the way things were before.

  He believed that because he had to.

  Steve felt Rosie tense beside him and he focused on the scene in front of him. The bride and groom kissed, then thanked the judge. On their way out of the chapel the radiant couple, decked out in formal wedding attire, passed by Steve and Rosie, dressed in casual clothes. He noticed their curious looks. It didn’t bother him, but he didn’t miss Rosie’s frown. He wanted to smooth it away. He wanted to fix the problem. He promised himself that from this moment on, he would do everything he could to ease her misgivings and self-consciousness. From now until the day he wasn’t around.

  “Chin up, squirt,” he said, taking her hand.

  A doubtful expression flashed into her big brown eyes. She’d looked a lot like that before dashing into

  “Miss Marchetti. Mr. Schafer.” The man glanced from one to the other with an expression somewhere between suspicion and confusion.

  “Judge Forbes,” Steve said, then cleared his throat. “I suppose you’re wondering what’s going on.”

  “The thought had crossed my mind.”

  “We can explain,” Rosie added, staring hopefully at Steve.

  This was his gig. It was up to him to pick up the ball and run with it. “It’s simple, Your Honor. I’ve come to my senses about this woman. I convinced her that marrying me is best for both of us. The details are inconsequential.”

  The judge nodded hesitantly. “So you’re ready to get married this time?”

  Steve nodded and looked down at Rosie. Her face was pale, her eyes looked bigger, darker, more doubtful than ever, and she’d caught her full top lip between her teeth. “We’re ready,” he said confidently.

  “Good.” The judge opened his book. “We’re here today to join this man and this woman in marriage.” He glanced at them. “May I have the rings?”

  “Oh, God. Sorry, Your Honor,” Rosie said. She looked nervously at Steve. “We don’t have rings.”

  Her tone bordered on backing out. “Rings aren’t necessary to get married, are they?”

  The judge shook his head. “I just always ask.”

  “We’ll get them later,” Steve said to Rosie. “Let’s do it, Your Honor.”

  “Do you, Steve Schafer, take this woman to be your wife?”

  “I do.”

  “Will you promise to love her, honor and cherish her as long as you both shall live?”

  Steve hesitated. It wouldn’t be a lie exactly. He did cherish her. She was his best friend’s sister and he would take care of her to the best of his ability while they were married and after it was over. “I will,” he said.

  That was easy, Steve thought. The roof hadn’t fallen in. As far as he could tell, lightning hadn’t struck anywhere near where they were standing. Now it was Rosie’s turn.

  “Rosemarie Marchetti, do you take this man to be your husband?” She waited so long to respond, the judge finally asked, “Do you want me to repeat the question?”

  “I do.”

  “Rosemarie Marchetti, do you take—”

  “No, Your Honor,” she said. “I was saying ‘I do’ to the question,” she said hurriedly.

  “I see. Then will you promise to love, honor and cherish him for as long as you both shall live?”

  “Do I have to commit myself to that time frame?” she asked hesitantly.

  Typical Rosie. Honest to a fault, he thought with a smile. How would the judge answer? he wondered.

  The justice of the peace looked taken aback, but managed to say, “It’s best to go into a marriage with the intention of making it a lifetime commitment. But I’ve seen more than one bride—and grooms, too—get cold feet at those words. How about if we just say, love, honor and cherish, and leave it at that?”

  “I will,” she said with a small smile.

  “Then I pronounce you husband and wife. Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Schafer. My boy, you may kiss your bride.”

  Steve looked at the man. Kiss Rosie? Hell, he hadn’t even trusted himself to hold her when she cried. Now this bozo wanted him to kiss her? He glanced at the woman beside him who he had always made it a point to try to think of as a little sister. The frown was back on her face. If he didn’t follow through with this tradition, she would be humiliated. It didn’t make any difference if their audience consisted of one person or a hundred. He wouldn’t hurt her for anything.

  Steve half turned toward her and released her hand. Curving his arm around her waist, he pulled her slowly and gently against him, acutely aware of her trembling. Cupping her cheek in his palm, he stared into her eyes for moment.

  “I mean this in the nicest possible way. Gotcha,” he whispered before lowering his mouth to hers.

  Steve felt her smile as their lips met and knew she trusted him not to let her fall on her face. He slipped his hand into the thick, silky strands of her hair, gently pressing the back of her head to make the contact more firm. When she put her arms around his waist, Steve felt the air leave his lungs. His heart kicked into triple time, sending the blood pounding through his veins. His physical reaction to her was instant, powerful, and painful.

  This was a hell of a time to confirm something he had always suspected. Holding Rosie Marchetti, especially while he kissed her, was the best thing that ever happened to him.

  And the worst.

  Chapter Four

  “Talk to me, Steve.”

  “You’re not nervous about this, are you?” he asked,
feigning disbelief.

  Rosie glanced out the airplane window, then swallowed hard as her stomach lurched. She had no control over the attributes of pregnancy that continually kept her insides on a roller coaster ride, but she’d stepped on this plane of her own free will.

  They were descending into LAX. The lights of the Los Angeles basin sparkled like gold dust. It was breathtaking, or would be if she was looking down from the top of a small hill. From where she was sitting, nothing was beautiful. She wanted her feet planted firmly on the ground—now!

  She glared at him, ignoring the teasing light in his eyes that she usually thought was so cute. “You know good and well when it comes to flying that I’m the world’s biggest coward. Take my mind off this. Distract me. Say something witty.”

  “Okay. How about those Lakers?” he asked. When she glared at him, he laughed. “What do you want me to say?”

  “I don’t know. How about ‘what’s the plan after we land’?”

  “I’d planned to drive to the cabin in the mountains. I thought you knew your folks offered it to me.”

  She shook her head, trying to ignore the stab of pain his “I” instead of “we” remark caused her. Maybe he hadn’t meant it that way. Taking a deep breath, she said, “I don’t remember Mom mentioning it. But maybe she did. I had a lot on my mind.”

  The humorous glint in his eyes disappeared. “Is your car at the airport?” he asked her.

  “No. Wayne and I took a shuttle.” Good grief. She’d expected to come home Mrs. Wayne Wallace, start housekeeping with her husband and await the arrival of their baby. Instead, her last name was now legally Schafer, and they hadn’t even discussed living arrangements.

  Mrs. Steve Schafer, she thought, mentally trying the name on for size. How long before that fact stopped feeling surreal?

  “I can drop you off at your apartment before I go up to the mountains,” he said helpfully.

  She hadn’t figured to get an answer to her question quite so quickly. Her dreamlike state had lasted about a second and a half, before his reply made her face cold, ugly reality. She was now a “Mrs.” but it was in name only. She’d interpreted his “I” remark correctly. They were married, but there was no “we” in the relationship. It was every man for himself. There was nothing couple-like about them.