The Manning Brides (10 page)

“What’s the matter now?”

Rich crushed the empty aluminum can between his hands. “I just met with Jamie for the first time since…since I spent the night.”

“It didn’t go well?”

Rich shrugged. “Put it this way. She suggested a divorce.”

“A divorce? Good grief, Rich, what did you say to the poor girl?”

Rich found it interesting that Jason immediately placed the blame on him. “Hell if I know. She came up with that all on her own. According to her, I…we changed the rules so we need to reevaluate our relationship.”

Jason leaned back in his chair, its two front legs lifting from the floor. “Sounds serious. So are you reevaluating?”

“Yeah,” Rich said forcefully. “I think we should throw the whole prenuptial agreement out the window and move in together.”

“In other words, you want this to be a real marriage?”

“Yes. Hell, yes.”

“But you don’t think Jamie would go for that?”

“I don’t know.” He hoped she would, but he’d suffered more than one setback lately. He wasn’t nearly as confident as he had been earlier.

“What are you going to do?”

“I wish I knew.”

“Do you love her?”

Rich nodded without hesitation. “Like crazy.” Standing, he walked over to the sink and leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms. “No one’s more surprised about that than I am. I didn’t have a clue that I felt anything for Jamie other than friendship. I didn’t even notice how beautiful she is until recently.”

“What do you plan to do about it?”

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be pounding down your door in the middle of the night.” Rich’s response was short-tempered, but Jason should’ve realized that much for himself.

“Good point.” Jason rubbed the lower half of his face. “I don’t suppose
sleep on it
is the kind of advice you want.”

“Hey, if I could sleep, I’d be home in bed.” Rich had lived alone for years, but the thought of returning to an empty apartment filled him with dread. He wanted to be with Jamie. It didn’t even matter whether or not they made love; he needed her. Needed her reassurance. Needed her warmth, her laughter. Her love.

“I wish I knew what she wanted,” he muttered.

“Who?”

“Who do you think?” Rich tossed his brother a scathing look. “Jamie, of course.”

“Don’t bite my head off.”

“Then don’t ask idiotic questions.”

Jason yawned loudly, but Rich ignored his brother’s broad hint. “She didn’t give me a single indication of how she felt about it. Absolutely nothing.”

“At the risk of appearing stupid,” Jason said mournfully, “an indication of what?”

“The divorce.” Rich frowned. “She offered it to me as an option, but when I asked what
she
wanted, she wouldn’t say.”

“She couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” Jason responded between yawns, “you’d be influenced by what she said and she wants the decision to be yours. She’s a smart gal.”

Rich paced the compact kitchen. “I told her I’d think everything over and get back to her.”

“Then go home,” Jason said, standing. “Now.” He ushered Rich toward the front door. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly at my brightest, and I’ve got surgeries scheduled all day tomorrow. I need my sleep.”

Rich brushed off his coat sleeves and chuckled. “I can take a hint.”

Grinning, Jason shook his head. “No, you can’t.”

“Dr. Fullerton’s office.”

“Hello,” Jamie said, her hand tightening on the receiver. “I…need to cancel my appointment with Dr. Fullerton.” She gave the date and time.

“Would you like to reschedule now?”

Jamie would’ve liked nothing better, but not knowing what Rich would decide made that futile. “Not now, thank you. I’ll call you next week.”

Jamie had delayed contacting Dr. Fullerton’s office all day. She’d hoped to hear from Rich early that morning. In her optimistic imagination, she’d had him phoning first thing with the assurance that he felt as strongly committed to their marriage and their child as ever.

When she hadn’t heard from him by noon, she had no option but to cancel her appointment. It wasn’t the end of the world. Yet she was overwhelmed by her emotions for the rest of the afternoon. She had to struggle to keep her feelings from interfering with her ability to make sound business decisions.

She’d thrown a frozen entrée into her microwave for dinner and munched on miniature marshmallows while watching a cable-TV reality dating show. So much for good eating habits or any semblance of healthy emotion. She’d sunk about as low as she could.

Jamie, normally meticulous about her clothes, didn’t bother to change after work. Instead, she wandered around the condo in her suit, her blouse pulled out from the waist. Her slippers made scuffing noises as she shuffled from room to room with no real purpose or direction. She would’ve liked to blame her lethargy on her recent bout with the flu, but she knew otherwise.

What was really bothering her was her husband. Or rather, her lack of one. A real one. In their discussion the night before, she’d tried to be as forthright and honest with Rich as she could. She’d been careful not to hint at her feelings or preferences. She was no longer so sure she’d made the right decision. Maybe she should’ve mentioned, even casually, how much Rich’s willingness to follow through on their agreement meant to her. Perhaps if she’d assured him she’d be a good mother, their evening might have turned out differently.

No. That would’ve been emotional blackmail.

She couldn’t have said any of those things, any more than she could’ve admitted how much she loved him. Or how eager she was to explore the sensuality they’d so recently discovered.

Jamie was pacing in front of the television, clutching the plastic bag of marshmallows, when the doorbell chimed.

Her heart lurched. It could be Rich, but she was afraid to hope. More likely it was her neighbor coming to complain that the television was too loud.

Her mouth was full of marshmallows, which she attempted to swallow quickly. It didn’t work, although she was chewing as fast as she could. She unlocked the door and nearly choked when Rich smiled in her direction.

“Hi.”

She raised her right hand, as though she were making a pledge.

“There’s something wrong with your cheeks. Have you got the mumps?”

Pointing at the bag of marshmallows, she chewed some more and swallowed a mouthful of marshmallows. “Hi,” she said, her heart leaping against her ribs. “I…I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I know. Rather than risk leaving a message, I decided to stop over. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course not.” If he had the slightest idea how pleased she was to see him, he’d be
really
smiling instead of grinning at her with those blue eyes of his. She knew she was staring, but Jamie couldn’t stop looking at Rich.

“Something doesn’t smell right,” he said, wrinkling his nose and sniffing the air. He walked into her kitchen, and opened the microwave. Cringing, he waved his hand in front of the now-cooked—
over
cooked—entrée.

“My dinner,” she explained, stuffing the bag of marshmallows in the silverware drawer.

“I thought you’d given up on this stuff.”

“I did…but I wasn’t in the mood to cook tonight.”

“Why not?”

“Because I had to cancel my appointment with Dr. Fullerton and I was depressed. I know I’m depressed when I crave marshmallows and turn on junk television. Life doesn’t get any bleaker than that.”

Rich was looking at her as though he’d never seen her before.

“Go ahead and make fun of me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Sure you would.” She swiped the back of her hand under her nose. “I’ll have you know I didn’t get into the marshmallows when I broke up with Tony.”

“In other words I’m responsible for reducing you to this?”

“Not exactly. I can’t blame you for
everything.
Let’s just say you’re responsible for my choice in TV viewing.”

Rich grinned and brushed a strand of hair from her temple. “Would it help if I told you I’ve come to a decision?”

“Probably.” She was almost afraid to hope….

Instead of telling her what he’d decided, he removed her unappetizing dinner from the microwave, carried it to the garbage can and dumped it inside.

“If you want junk food, we’ll order pizza, all right?”

She nodded eagerly. The
we
part didn’t escape her. Apparently he intended to stay a while, which was fine with her. More than fine.

“While we’re at it, I think it would be best if you ditched the marshmallows, too.”

Wordlessly she jerked open her silverware drawer and handed him her stash.

“One more thing.”

“Yes?” She gazed up at him, her heart in her eyes. She tried not to let her feelings show but it was impossible.

“Why did you cancel the appointment with Dr. Fullerton?”

“Because…you know.” She rubbed her palms together. “I didn’t hear from you this morning—not that I expected I would. I mean, overnight was much too soon for you to make up your mind. It would’ve been unreasonable for me to expect anything of the sort.” Jamie knew she was rambling, but she couldn’t make herself stop. “My…our appointment with Dr. Fullerton is…was for tomorrow and I couldn’t very well go through with the insemination process, could I?”

“You’ve already been through one insemination process.” He seemed to enjoy reminding her of that.

“Yes, I know, but…this is different.”

His mouth slanted upward, his eyes bright with laughter. “I should hope so.”

“I didn’t
want
to cancel the appointment.”

“Any chance you can reschedule?”

“Uh…” Her eyes connected with his, her heart pounding so loudly she thought he could hear it. “Are you saying you want to stay married and have the baby and—”

“That’s exactly what I want.”

Jamie couldn’t help herself. She let out a cry of sheer joy, threw her arms around his neck and brought his mouth down to hers.

R
ich moaned in surprise and welcome as Jamie’s mouth sought his. He wrapped his arms around her as she stepped deeper into his embrace. His breath—and her breath, too—was heavy, abrupt, as if they’d both been caught off guard by the power of their attraction. The power of their need.

Rich tried to discipline his response to her, but his arousal was fierce and sudden.

He wanted Jamie as he’d never wanted anyone. He
needed
her. The kiss, which had began as a spontaneous reaction of joy and excitement, quickly became a sensuous feast of desperation and desire.

Rich groaned. He couldn’t stop himself. His wife was in his arms, where she belonged, where he intended to keep her.

Patience, patience,
his mind chanted. They’d make love soon, very soon and when they did, it would be a celebration of their marriage. There would be no grounds for regret or misgivings. No room for doubts. It would all come in time.
Soon,
Rich promised himself.
Soon.

By a supreme act of will, Rich drew in a tattered, shaky breath and buried his face in her hair. “You taste of marshmallows.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” It demanded more control than he’d ever imagined to ease himself from her arms. “What about ordering that pizza?”

“Sure.” She recovered quickly, Rich noted. Far more quickly than he did. She smiled shakily up at him. “There was a coupon in Tuesday’s mail….”

“Do you want pepperoni and sausage?”

“Sounds good to me,” she said over her shoulder. She moved away from him as if they’d never touched. Rich envied her ability to do so. He had difficulty disguising her effect on him.

Jamie pulled out a kitchen drawer where she maintained a small file for coupons. Once again he was astonished—although he shouldn’t have been—at how organized she was. In no time, she’d located the right coupon and placed the order.

The pizza arrived promptly, thirty minutes later, and by then they were back on an even keel with each other. Rich would’ve liked to discuss their kiss, but didn’t want to say or do anything to destroy this fragile peace. There’d be lots of time later to talk about their feelings. For now, he would bask in the warm glow of his love for Jamie and wait patiently for her to love him back.

It shouldn’t take long. He didn’t mean to be cocky about his attractiveness or charm, but their love would be built on the firm foundation of friendship. All he had to do was exhibit patience and tenderness. The way he figured, in a week or two he’d be confident enough to approach her with the truth about his love. By the end of the month he’d be moving in with her.

No one would fault his plan. Least of all Jamie. He’d bide his time, give her the love and attention she needed, prove that he’d be a good husband to her and a good father to their child.

If everything went according to his plans, Jamie would be pregnant long before they could see Dr. Fullerton again.

Soon the pizza box lay open on the kitchen table. Jamie had set out plates and napkins and two cold cans of pop.

“This is delicious.”

Rich agreed with a nod of his head. The pizza was excellent, but its taste couldn’t compare to Jamie’s kisses. In fact, he could easily become addicted to the flavor that was hers alone.

“I’ll call Dr. Fullerton’s office in the morning,” she said casually. “I probably won’t be able to get in until next month.” Her eyes briefly met his, as though she was seeking his approval.

“That sounds fine to me.”

Her dark eyes brightened and her hand reached for his. “We’re gong to make this work. We can, I know it.”

“Of course we can,” Rich told her. If things went the way he wanted them to, they’d soon be a family—and that was exactly how they’d stay, at least if he had anything to say about it. Jamie didn’t know that yet, but she’d discover his intentions soon, and by that time she’d be as eager as he was.

The alarm blared and Jamie rolled onto her back, swung out one arm and flipped off the buzzer. The irritating noise was replaced with the gentle sounds of the soft rock station she listened to each morning.

The bed was warm and cozy and she didn’t relish the thought of crawling out into the dark, cold world, especially on a Monday morning. It was far more pleasant to linger beneath layers of blankets, thinking about the good things that were happening between her and Rich.

They hadn’t seen much of each other in the past week because Rich was involved in a defense project for Boeing. He’d worked three to four hours overtime every night, plus both days of the weekend. Yet he called her every day without fail, usually late in the evening.

He sounded so frustrated at not seeing her as often as he wanted. As often as
she
wanted. Jamie had done her best to pretend it didn’t matter, but it did. She missed him dreadfully, although their night-time phone conversations went a long way toward making up for that.

They were like a pair of teenagers talking on the phone. There wasn’t really a lot to discuss, yet they often spent an hour or more chatting and laughing as if it had been weeks since they’d last spoken. Afterward, Jamie would spend the rest of the night swaddled in happiness.

Rich was exhausted whenever he called her. Although he’d never said as much, she had the impression he hurried out of the office and drove straight home just so he could talk to her.

Although they hadn’t actually seen each other since the week before, Jamie felt encouraged by the way their relationship was developing. They were close, closer than they’d been at any time since high school. It seemed natural for her life to be so closely entwined with his. Natural and right.

Everything was going so well for them, she thought again. Rich seemed pleased when she rescheduled her appointment with Dr. Fullerton. Jamie often fantasized about their child—boy or girl, she’d be delighted and she knew he would, too.

Stretching her arms high above her head, she yawned loudly and kicked away the covers. Although she’d prefer to laze the morning away thinking about Rich and their future, she had to shower and get ready for work.

Still yawning, she sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. The room started to sway. Jamie exhaled slowly and closed her eyes. The sensation worsened until she was forced to put her head back on the pillow. The dizziness was followed by a surge of nausea.

Apparently she was suffering from a relapse of the flu. Wasn’t she?

Jason called Rich at the office early Tuesday morning. “I haven’t heard from you in a while,” he said, giving the reason for his call. “I thought I’d check in to see how everything’s going with you and Jamie.”

“Fine,” Rich said, studying a design layout on his desk. He held the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he worked. “I appreciated your words of wisdom the other night.” However, as Rich recalled, Jason had been more concerned with getting him out of his apartment than shedding any new light on Rich’s muddled marriage.

Rich had been more shaken that night than he’d realized. The mere mention of the word
divorce
had thrown him. It had also forced him to deal with the depth of his love for Jamie and had set his determination to do everything within his power to make their marriage work.

“So things between you and Jamie are better?”

“So far, so good.”

“No more talk of a divorce?”

“None.” Thank God, Rich mused.

“Then you’ve agreed to her terms?”

“More or less.” It was the terms they’d
both
agreed to—only he wanted to change the rules now. All he needed was a few days to convince Jamie how crazy she was about him. It shouldn’t be that difficult, especially when he was already so much in love with her, as long as he could get a few hours free from work. Which was difficult right now, with that defense contract gearing up.

“What does ‘more or less’ mean?” Jason wanted to know.

“It means,” Rich said, his words heavy with impatience, “that I intend to make this marriage real.” He glanced around to be sure no one in the office across the hall from him could hear. This wasn’t the way he wanted his fellow workers to learn he was a married man.

“How does Jamie feel about this, or—” Jason hesitated “—does she know?”

“She will soon enough.” Rich had never felt more frustrated. The defense project was taking all his time; knowing he’d volunteered for it didn’t help, either. He’d been single at the time, but his life had changed and he was a married man. Sort of a married man. One who longed to be a real husband to his wife.

“I don’t suppose you’ve considered telling Mom and Dad that you’re married, have you?”

Jason should’ve gone into police work, Rich mused. He certainly possessed interrogation skills.

“It wouldn’t hurt, you know,” Jason added.

Rich frowned. “Is there any reason I should tell them?”

Jason’s chuckle annoyed him. “Not really,” his brother said. “Just promise me you’ll let me be there when you do.”

Rich didn’t find any humor in his teasing. “I will when the time’s right.” That might take longer than he’d originally planned, thanks to all the overtime he’d been putting in lately. Informing his parents that he and Jamie were married, and had been for the past six weeks, wasn’t a task he relished. Of course, the longer he waited, the more offended they’d be.

“Talk to you later.”

“Okay,” Rich said absently, more concerned about the designs he was reviewing than the conversation with his brother. He hung up the phone and glanced at his watch. The defense project was winding down, and if the day progressed as he hoped, he’d be able to take a break this evening and visit Jamie.

Rich was so involved in the designs that he didn’t notice someone standing in the doorway until he glanced up. When he did, his eyes widened with shock.

“Jamie.” Her own eyes were red and glazed with tears. Yet she was smiling. Rich didn’t know which emotion to respond to first. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, Rich, you won’t believe what’s happened,” she cried, and ran toward him, arms outstretched. “You just won’t believe it. I…I know I shouldn’t have come here, not when you’re so busy, but I had to, I simply had to.”

Worried that there might be something seriously wrong with her, Rich got out of his chair and had her sit down. Then he crouched in front of her, holding the armrests, forming a protective barricade around her.

“Tell me,” he said tenderly.

“I woke up sick yesterday,” she muttered, opening her purse and digging through it for a tissue. When she found one, she dabbed at the corners of her eyes. Once again she was smiling broadly and weeping at the same time. Tears slid down her face, and her mouth trembled with some as-yet-undetermined emotion.

“I assumed it was the flu,” she said, sobbing, “but I felt fine a little bit later. I didn’t even
think
to mention it when you phoned last night—but this morning my stomach was queasy again and I felt light-headed, as though I was going to faint. I wasn’t sure what to think until I checked the calendar.”

“The calendar?”

She nodded enthusiastically.

“Jamie?” Rich was afraid to place too much significance on what she was saying—what she
seemed
to be saying. She couldn’t possibly mean what he hoped she did. It was ludicrous. They’d only made love that one time.

Once again she nodded wildly. “Rich,” she said, her hands gripping his. “We’re pregnant.”

“Pregnant,” Rich repeated in a whisper, stunned. If he hadn’t been clutching the sides of the chair, he would’ve toppled onto his backside. “Pregnant,” he repeated slowly.

“I never dreamed it would happen so quickly. My temperature was only elevated a little that morning and…I didn’t really think I was fertile yet, but obviously I was. Rich, oh, Rich,” she sobbed joyfully. “We’re going to have a baby.”

“A baby.” Rich stared at her. “You’re sure? You’ve been to see Dr. Fullerton?”

“No…I bought a pregnancy test in the drugstore this morning and a few minutes later—”

“You’re sure?” he asked again.

“The stick turned blue. You can’t get any more positive than that.”

“Blue…does that mean the baby’s a boy?” His head, his heart, were racing, trying to take it all in.

Jamie laughed and hiccuped and laughed some more. “No, silly, it doesn’t mean we’re having a son, it means we’re going to be parents.”

“But we
could
be having a son,” he challenged.

“Of course. Or a daughter.” She threw her arms around his neck and laughed, an outpouring of joy. It was the sweetest, most poignant song he’d ever heard.

“We’re pregnant,” Rich said, finally—fully—taking it in. “We’re really pregnant.”

“Really,” she said, brushing the tips of her fingers over his face. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“Pregnant.” Slipping his arms around her waist, he stood, bringing her with him. His mouth found hers, and he kissed her the way he’d longed to do all week.

Jamie moaned. So did Rich. The kiss created a need for much more, and this was neither the time nor the place.