Wedding Rings and Baby Things Read online

  Was she concerned about him or herself? Mike wondered. “Don’t worry about me.”

  She glanced up at him and her expression was troubled. “But I do. You’re my friend and I would never do anything to jeopardize that.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  She thought for a minute. “As long as my job is secure, I can meet Doug on equal ground in any court. I can be divorced and teach. I just can’t be pregnant and unmarried. So what if we say four months? Until the beginning of school in September?”

  “Won’t people wonder at such a short time?”

  She shrugged. “It happens all the time. Some couples stay married a matter of weeks.”

  If that’s what she wanted, he would agree. But he wasn’t sure about it. “All right, four months. But I think we should keep our defenses in reserve. We can always renegotiate and stay together longer if he’s still making noises about custody.”

  “It’s also possible that he’ll have his precious partnership. If that’s the case, I’m sure he won’t want me or the baby, and you and I will be free to go our separate ways.”

  Mike frowned. He couldn’t shake the feeling that jarred him every time she mentioned separating. He didn’t want to think that far into the future. “We should get married as soon as possible. If he starts throwing his weight around, we’ll have the grounds to bury him.”

  “I agree.”

  “Tomorrow we can get the blood tests and then the license. I’ll contact a lawyer—”

  “A lawyer?” Her gaze snapped up to his. “Why?”

  “A college buddy of mine specializes in family law. We need expert advice on how to beat Hammond at his own game. If he starts making things ugly for you, I want to be able to stop him in his tracks.”

  “Oh, you’re right Of course.”

  “Did you think I meant something else?”

  “I thought you were talking about a pre-nuptial agreement.”

  “It never crossed my mind,” he said truthfully.

  “I wouldn’t blame you if you did want one. After Carol…” She glanced at him, judging his reaction. She seemed to decide correctly that he wasn’t sensitive about that and went on. “I want it understood that when we split up, I don’t want anything from you, Mike. You’re saving my job and giving my baby a name. How can I ever repay you?”

  “I’m not asking for anything except the opportunity to help. Now, we should set a date.”

  She let out a deep breath, looking nervous suddenly. “You pick.”

  “What about this Saturday?”

  Her eyes grew wide, but she only said, “Can we get everything together by then?”

  “I’m sure we can.” He thought for a minute. “Unless you wanted something bigger than just a few friends—”

  “Under the circumstances a small, quiet ceremony would be best.”

  “We’ll need people to stand up with us.”

  She nodded. “I’ll see if Susan would be willing to be my matron of honor. What about you?”

  “I think I’ll ask Cliff Bloomhurst,” he said, grinning. “If he’s a witness, there can’t be any doubt about the fact that you’ll be Mrs. Mike Cameron. And any doubts about your job should be put to rest.”

  She smiled back at him. “You’re evil, Mike Cameron. And I mean that in the nicest possible way,” she added.

  “So everything’s settled?” he asked.

  “Saturday it is.”

  Chapter Four

  “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride.” The gray-haired judge looked at Kelly and Mike over the reading glasses anchored on the end of his nose.

  Kelly had just become Mrs. Mike Cameron and promised to love, honor and cherish him for as long as she lived. She felt more like a fraud than a bride.

  She and Mike were standing in his backyard beneath a white latticework arch covered with ivy. Shadows of early evening crept across the grass as a soft breeze rippled the cream chiffon hem of her dress and the matching veil that fell over her face to her chin. In his traditional black tuxedo, Mike looked more handsome than she’d ever seen him.

  If all the guests at the wedding wouldn’t think she had gone off the deep end, Kelly would have hiked up the long skirt on her chiffon dress and run as fast as she could in the other direction. But it was too late now. Besides, she still had the baby to think about.

  The judge cleared his throat loudly, reminding her she still had to kiss the groom. Mike turned to her, lifted the lace in front of her eyes and winked. She knew he was trying to put her at ease as well as warning her to make this good.

  On her left was Susan Wishart her matron of honor. Mike’s best man, Cliff Bloomhurst, stood beside him, beaming. They believed she had married Mike because they were in love and always had been. Until now, their timing had been wrong. She couldn’t blow that romantic notion by refusing to kiss him, no matter how much she wanted to do just that.

  They had shared their first kiss a week ago, and the memory of it still made her body hum. Pretty scary stuff. But this was her wedding. The guests would wonder, if she didn’t kiss Mike. If she tried really hard, maybe she wouldn’t enjoy it so much this time.

  Kelly trembled as Mike took her in his arms. He whispered so that only she could hear, “Put your arms around my neck.”

  She did and he smiled, a very satisfied masculine smile. She was fascinated by the flash of white teeth against his tanned face. Why had she never noticed the way the lines near his mouth deepened when he grinned? Then it was too late to notice more. He claimed her mouth with his own. The touch was gentle and sweet. Until he tightened his hold on her and deepened the kiss, warming to his task. Warm was definitely the word.

  Liquid heat poured through her. Her knees melted like ice cubes in hot Jell-o, and if he hadn’t been holding her, she would have dissolved into a puddle at his feet. When applause, whistles and approving laughter erupted around them, Kelly pulled out of his arms. She took a deep breath as Susan handed her the bridal bouquet comprised of white roses, orchids and baby’s breath that Mike had surprised her with just before the ceremony. Should it worry her that on top of something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue, she had forgotten flowers, too? Or should she be more concerned that Mike had thought of everything? She didn’t have time to care as the judge cleared his throat.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said. “I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Mike Cameron.”

  “Mrs. Cameron,” Mike said, holding out his arm.

  Kelly took it and let him lead her to the covered brick patio. They had invited about twenty close friends to the six p.m. wedding, and all of them gathered around to congratulate the newly married couple. Mike excused himself and quietly talked to a distinguished-looking man standing by the open French doors. The next thing she knew, platters of hors d’oeuvres appeared, as well as waiters bearing trays of flute glasses filled with champagne. Again she was amazed that he had thought of everything.

  All week she had pleaded with him to let her help. All week he had told her everything was under control and to just take it easy. She would’ve been able to do that if he hadn’t added, “Our wedding will be perfect, down to the last detail.”

  They had agreed this marriage was a function of friendship. She had a sneaking suspicion that he was injecting it with something more personal. Like that kiss. The only thing more intimate than his mouth-to-mouth technique was what happened in the marriage bed. And that thought had kept her on edge all week. She had wanted to settle the sleeping arrangements but there had never been time. When she had seen. Mike in between his wedding errands, they’d had other decisions to make. In a few hours, she had to face it.

  “What’s the matter? You look like you just remembered that you forgot to shut off the water in the bathtub.” Susan Wishart, a tall, attractive blonde with curly hair, grinned down at her. “Is this where the enormity of the step you’ve taken has finally sunk in?”

  “You don’t know how right you are.”


  Her friend was far too intuitive for Kelly’s peace of mind. She felt slimy again for keeping the real reasons for the marriage secret.

  “The worst is over,” Susan said. “Now it’s time to kick off your shoes, relax and have some fun. This food looks great,” she said, plucking a stuffed celery stalk from a passing tray.

  Relax? Easy for you to say, Kelly thought. Facing the night alone with Mike wasn’t exactly snooze city. Since the evening she and Mike had agreed to get married, she had carefully observed him. More and more she was realizing how attractive he truly was, that she could easily be susceptible to his looks and charm. It was just because of the pregnancy, she told herself. Her belly was getting bigger, and if her response to Mike was anything to go by, her reactions were getting bigger, too. Everything about her was getting bigger, including her hormones.

  It was all so confusing. Over the years she had seen Mike in various stages of undress. In fact she’d seen him once stark naked, and she’d never been overly attracted. But lately she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him. And today, the way he looked in that tuxedo, the way he had kissed her, the way awareness of his masculinity hummed through her, she wasn’t sure she could keep from crossing the line of friendship into something else.

  Still, she tried to look at the bright side. If her reaction to him was simply a result of her body chemistry, then it would pass as soon as the baby was born. She was determined that nothing would complicate the perfect friendship she had with him.

  That decided, she relaxed a little and smiled at Susan. “Mike did a great job with everything, didn’t he?”

  “That’s an understatement. Especially as fast as the whole thing happened. Kelly, can I ask you something?”

  “What?” Kelly asked, as people milled around eating and talking.

  “Well, Cliff will kill me for telling you, but there are two rumors circulating. The first is that Mike is the baby’s father. Which I know is not true.”

  “I heard that one. What’s the second?”

  “That he married you to help you keep your job.”

  “Completely untrue,” Kelly said, grabbing a pastry-covered cocktail wienie from the waiter’s tray to hide her flushed cheeks.

  “I didn’t think so, but things did happen fast after McCutcheon got into the act. But I knew there was more to it. A person would have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to see that there’s something special between you and Mike.”

  “And let’s hope marriage doesn’t spoil it” Kelly said under her breath.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing,” she said.

  Kelly wished she could confess the real reason behind their whirlwind wedding. But she and Mike had decided to keep Doug’s threat quiet. If they had to go to court, they didn’t want anyone questioning the timing of their marriage in connection with a custody battle. To all outward appearances, they had to be a deliriously in love, happily married couple.

  Susan sighed. “This is the most romantic spur-of-the-moment wedding I’ve ever seen.”

  “As romantic as it can be when the bride is six months pregnant,” Kelly said, brushing a hand over her rounded stomach.

  “That’s exactly the reason it’s so romantic. He’s your knight in shining armor, your Sir Walter Raleigh, throwing his cloak over the puddle of public opinion, putting to rest the vicious lies arid innuendo threatening the woman he loves.”

  Kelly laughed. “You’ve been teaching English literature too long.”

  “With a name like Wishart what else would I teach?”

  “It’s about time they moved you to the biology department. A good frog dissection would do wonders for you. The formaldehyde fumes would take the stars out of your eyes.”

  “I’m serious. Mike’s a real sweetie. Do you know how lucky you are?”

  “Lucky? Who’s lucky?” Mike asked, as he slipped an arm around Kelly’s ever-expanding waist

  “Kelly is,” Susan said.

  “You mean because I decided against the Chapel of Love in Vegas?”

  “The what?” Kelly asked, looking up at him. She couldn’t help laughing at the feigned innocence on his face.

  “You know, in the big hotels, there’s always this little room off to the side with a neon rose over the doorway and baskets of white plastic flowers lining the aisle, just behind the plastic chain, and the plastic chairs in front of the plastic preacher and the plastic Presley—”

  “Enough,” Kelly said, groaning.

  “I made up the plastic Presley because I know how you love alliteration,” he said.

  “Is everything really plastic?” Susan asked.

  “Maybe not the preacher,” he said.

  “In our case, artificial might have been more appropriate,” Kelly mumbled. Far from feeling lucky at the moment, she struggled with her conscience that refused to stay dormant

  Susan frowned at her. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “I’m sorry. Guess I have to plead fatigue. It’s been a long, stressful week.”

  “Yeah,” Mike agreed. “It’s not every day you walk down Ball-and-Chain Lane.”

  “That’s a terrible thing to say!” Susan exclaimed.

  Mike shrugged. “Don’t look at me. Kelly coined the phrase.”

  “I was quoting you,” she said, defending herself.

  “Isn’t she feisty?” he asked, grinning. “That’s one of the things I like best about her.” He kissed her quickly on the lips. When he lifted his head, there was an expression’ in his eyes that made her very uneasy. It was a fierce—and she’d swear almost hungry—look, the farthest thing from friendly she could imagine. Especially since it curled her toes and made her heart race.

  “Don’t call me feisty. And don’t even think about spunky” she said. She tried to sound stern, but the breathless quality she heard in her voice kept it from coming out that way.

  “I think it’s time for dinner,” he said. “Let’s go inside.”

  As she let him lead her to the dining room, Kelly reminded herself, It’s just hormones. In two and a half months, the problem would no longer exist. That was the good news. The bad news—she was very much afraid her feelings for Mike could get out of control, even in that short a time.

  Barefoot and pregnant

  Mike studied Kelly, standing on the hardwood floor in the open doorway saying goodbye to the Wisharts. He folded his arms across the accordion pleats on his now-wrinkled, formal shirt. Hours ago he’d discarded the jacket and rolled his sleeves up. Kelly had slipped out of her shoes. She stood there now, leaning against the doorjamb, rubbing one small, delicate, nylon clad foot over her other ankle.

  It was one hell of a sexy look.

  “Come on, Susan, it’s really time to go.” Brad Wishart took his wife’s hand to lead her outside. The same height as his wife, the bearded man with gray-streaked black hair tugged her once. “We’ve been standing here for a long time. Another five minutes and we’ll make the Guinness Book for goodbyes.”

  “Do you have to go so soon?” Kelly asked.

  Mike slanted a quick look at her. If he didn’t know better, he would swear there was a note of desperation in her voice.

  “No.” Susan grinned at her husband as if she was setting him up for something.

  “For God’s sake, Suse, they just got married. They want to be alone. You see Kelly every day at school. You can talk to her on Monday. Let’s leave them alone.”

  “You mean for—” Susan stopped and lifted one eyebrow provocatively.

  “Don’t say it,” her husband said, pointing a finger at her.

  “All right.” Susan gave Kelly a hug and kissed Mike on the cheek. “I wish you both many happy years together. Good night, Mr. and Mrs. Cameron.”

  “Good night,” they both said together.

  After the Wisharts were gone, Kelly shut the heavy oak door and leaned her back against it. As she looked up at Mike, all big green eyes, and a tired, troubled expression on her face, he knew someth
ing was wrong.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “It bothers me a lot that we’re deceiving everyone. We’re only going to be together a matter of months, not years. And as far as happy—”

  He pointed at her. “Don’t you say it. There’s no reason the time we’re together can’t be pleasant and even fun.”

  She slanted him a suspicious look. “What do you mean by fun?”

  Definitely nervous about something, he thought. “Forget I said that. We won’t have any fun. This is Ball-and-Chain Lane. No fun, I promise. How could I have been so stupid as to insinuate friends could have fun?”

  She smiled a little and tucked her hair behind her ears then glanced to her left, into the living room where wedding gifts were stacked. “I feel like such a fraud, Mike. I can’t face opening gifts.”

  “We have to. People will expect thank you notes. And we can’t just send a generic. You have to say thanks for the meatloaf maker or whatever the widget.”

  She sighed. “You’re right. I know. But would you mind if we do it in the morning? I’ll come back—”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Home.”

  “This is your home,” he said, holding his arms wide.

  “I don’t want to cramp your style.”

  “What style? I don’t have a style to cramp.”

  “Just because we’re married doesn’t mean we have to live together. There’s a perfectly good house across the driveway—”

  “Won’t work.” He tucked his fingers in his tuxedo pockets as he tried to control his irritation.

  “Why not?”

  “Looks bad for a happily married couple to sleep in separate houses.”

  “Who will know?”

  “You never had anyone drop in on you?” he asked.

  “Well,” she hedged.

  “Happens to me all the time. Or what if you get a phone call?”

  “You could ask them to hold on and run across the driveway to get me.”

  “I’m not going to live like an episode of ‘I Love Lucy.’ What’s wrong, Kel?”