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If the Stick Turns Pink...

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Год написания книги
2018
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“Is your sister pregnant again?”

The telltale blush that momentarily stole over her face gave him his answer. Mellie’s sister, Linda, was nothing short of a baby factory, producing a baby a year for the past four years.

“Yes, but that has nothing to do with my decision to get pregnant,” she replied tersely.

He knew better. He knew that each new baby born into the Watters family had increased Mellie’s desire for a child of her own.

Before he could reply, he spied MaryAnn Bartel entering the diner. She was dressed to kill in a pair of tight black jeans and a hot-pink midriff top the size of a bandage. Her eyes widened in delight at the sight of him, and he steeled himself for yet another encounter with a mad cow contestant.

“Bailey,” she squealed, her thick perfume reaching him before she did. Her smile faltered as she saw Melanie. “Oh, hi, Melanie. So, it’s true? The two of you are engaged?”

Bailey knew now was his chance to set the record straight, to explain to MaryAnn that the rumor about him and Melanie was false. But he saw the light of fanaticism in her bright blue eyes, the tiny sparkles in their depths appearing like tiny tiaras.

He had a sudden vision of his life in the next six weeks, a life inundated with stress because of the stupid Miss Dairy Cow Contest. He also thought of his mother, who had become an irritating broken record on the topic of wanting a grandchild.

A temporary marriage to Mellie would solve a host of problems. There would certainly be no surprises with Mellie. He knew her as well as he knew himself, and he couldn’t imagine anything ruining their friendship, not even a marriage, a pregnancy and a subsequent divorce.

“It’s true,” he said, and saw the surprise that lit Mellie’s eyes. He smiled at her, hoping that neither of them came to regret the split-second decision he’d made to follow through on her crazy scheme.

Chapter Three

It was just another Friday. That’s what Melanie told herself as she stepped outside of the school building and into the warm late-afternoon sunshine.

It was just a usual Friday afternoon. Bailey would pick her up from school, they’d go to the video store and rent a couple of movies, then go back to his house and eat popcorn and watch the movies.

They had spent countless Friday nights this way, and never had she felt the dancing of butterflies in the pit of her stomach. Of course, never before had they stopped on the way to the video store at the county clerk’s office to get a marriage license.

There was absolutely no reason to be nervous, she told herself. This was what she had wanted, and it was a perfect plan for both of them. Still, no amount of rational thought seemed to still the jitters inside her.

She supposed it was natural. It wasn’t every day she promoted the idea of a temporary marriage to a man. She walked to the curb as she spied Bailey’s maroon pickup truck approaching.

He pulled to a halt at the curb and reached over to open the door for her. The first thing she noticed when she slid into the vehicle was that he wasn’t wearing his jeans, but rather was clad in a pair of navy dress slacks and a pinstriped short-sleeved dress shirt.

Funny. She usually wore slacks to school, but had opted for a dress today. It was as if someplace in the back of their minds they’d decided this day deserved better wear than usual.

“Changed your mind yet?” he asked the moment she got into the truck.

“No. Have you?”

“At least a hundred times since last night,” he admitted. He shot her one of his grins that made his dimple appear, near the right side of his mouth. “But each time I decided not to go through with it, my mother’s strident voice would fill my head.”

Melanie grinned. “And what is your mother’s voice saying?”

“The usual. When am I going to get married again. If I’d married a local girl the first time I might not be divorced. She’ll be dead and in her grave before I finally settle down and give her grandchildren.” He pulled away from the curb. “Trust me, Melanie, be grateful you have a sister. Being an only child can definitely be a burden.”

“What is she going to say when we get divorced?” Melanie asked, trying not to notice how the sunshine drifting through the truck window shone on his rich, dark hair.

“I think after two strikes she’ll finally get off my back about being single.”

“And she’ll have a grandchild to dote on,” Melanie reminded him.

He parked in front of the county clerk’s office. He turned in his seat to look at her. “Mellie, before we go inside, I think we need to talk about some things.”

“Like what?”

“If we get the license now, then I figure on Saturday we can go to Jeb Walker’s and he can marry us.” Jeb Walker was the local justice of the peace. “I’m assuming you’ll be moving in with me. I’m not about to move into that tiny apartment of yours.”

Melanie hadn’t thought that far ahead. Of course they would have to live together, and with Bailey’s veterinarian practice and nice ranch house, it made sense that she would move in there. The thought of moving in with him suddenly made their plans more real than anything else had before, and once again butterflies danced in her stomach.

“I probably should just keep paying rent on the apartment even though I won’t be there for a month or two,” she said thoughtfully. “Oh, and before I forget it, Mom called and asked if I’d pick up a prescription for her at the drugstore and drop it by on the way to your house.”

“No problem,” he agreed easily. His gaze continued to hold hers, and she’d never seen his eyes so blue or so serious. “Last chance to change your mind, Mellie.”

“I’m not going to change my mind, Bailey. I’m going into this with both eyes wide open. You give me a baby, I’ll give you a divorce. You can have as much or as little a role as you want in the baby’s life, but no matter what, we go right back to the way things have always been between us.”

He cast her a quick grin. “Sounds like a perfect plan.” He opened his truck door and she did the same, trying not to think of the old adage about the best-laid plans of mice and men.

It took them only a few minutes to obtain the marriage license, then they went to the drugstore to pick up Melanie’s mom’s prescription and on to the video store to rent movies for the night.

By the time they were on their way to Melanie’s parents place, the nerves that had been dancing in her stomach had stopped. They had bickered in the video store over which movies to rent, as they did every time they rented movies. The very normalcy of the good-natured arguing set her at ease and assured her that nothing had changed between them.

As they headed down the road toward the Watters farmhouse, they shared the events of their day. Melanie loved hearing about his work with animals, and he listened patiently as she vented about a particular student’s misbehavior or extolled the virtues of another student.

“It’s hard to believe there’s just a week left of school,” she said.

“This will work out really great for me,” Bailey said. “You’ll be out of a job and will be able to cook and clean for me.” He shot her a teasing glance. “It’s what wives do.”

“Wrong century, Bailey. And definitely wrong woman,” she replied lightly. “If you think I’m going to spend my time as your wife picking up your dirty socks and recapping your tube of toothpaste, then you have another think coming.”

“I knew it was too good to be true,” he exclaimed as he turned down the lane that led to the Watters place.

As always a burst of warmth swept through her as her parents’ farmhouse came into view. The three-bedroom ranch was where Melanie had been born and all the wonderful memories of her childhood resided here.

“Looks like company,” Bailey said, pointing to a scattering of parked cars in the driveway.

“Must be bridge night,” Melanie replied. “That’s probably why Mom asked me to pick up the prescription. She was busy cooking and cleaning for the bridge gang.”

Bailey pulled to a halt. “I’ll just wait here,” he said.

Melanie nodded and got out of the truck. Before she could reach the house her younger sister, Linda, came out and hurried toward her.

“Linda, what are you doing here?” Melanie asked.

“Ben is working late so I decided to stop by for a little visit.” She looked over at the truck where Bailey was waiting. Raising one arm, she motioned for him to get out of the truck, then looked back at Melanie.

“How are you feeling?” Melanie asked.

Linda touched her still-flat stomach and winced. “Okay, but I’ve already started with the morning sickness. I didn’t have it this early with any of the other three pregnancies.”
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