The Manning Brides: Marriage of Inconvenience / Stand-In Wife

“No.” It wouldn’t help to tell Jason that the big favor Bill was supposed to have done him had fallen through.

Damn, Jamie was stubborn. Stubborn enough to go ahead and have her baby without him.

That stopped him in his tracks. It was her decision. What bothered Rich, what caught him so completely by surprise, was the rush of resentment he felt at the thought of her having another man’s child.

“Hey, you all right?” Jason asked, claiming the seat next to him on the overstuffed sofa.

“Of course I’m all right. Why shouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know, but you got this funny look all of a sudden.”

Rich dropped his gaze to the can of beer he clutched in his hand. He offered his brother a weak smile and then relaxed on the sofa. It was a few minutes before his heart rate returned to normal. But he kept thinking about Jamie. She’d have a stranger’s child. Yes, she would. She’d do it in a second. More than once Rich had collided with that pride of hers, and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind.

She’d do it!

“You ever thought about being a father?” Rich found himself asking his older brother. He attempted to make the question sound casual but didn’t know if he’d succeeded or not.

“Who, me?” Jason teased. “I’m not even married, and frankly I don’t ever plan to be.”

“Why not?” This was news to Rich. Jason dated as often as Rich did—although, come to think of it, Rich might have implied that his social life was more active than it really was. Jason never seemed to lack for gorgeous women. The only time he’d gotten serious, the relationship had turned out badly, but that was years ago.

“I’m not the marrying kind,” Jason said, tearing open a bag of potato chips with his teeth. “All women think about is reforming me. Hell, if I want to kick off my shoes and watch a football game on a Sunday afternoon, I don’t want to feel guilty about it. Most married men are henpecked. I prefer my freedom.”

“So do I,” Rich agreed. Marriage wasn’t for him, either. Or for Jamie. He valued his independence. So did she. Jason apparently felt the same way—marriage was too much trouble.

“If I want to dry my socks in the microwave, there’s no one around to yell at me,” Jason added, then took a deep swallow of his beer.

“You dried your socks in the microwave?”

Jason shrugged. “I forgot to put the load from the washer into the dryer the night before. I needed a pair for work. So it was either that or pop them in the toaster.”

Rich chuckled. That sounded exactly like something his brother would do. Jason was right: A woman would’ve been horrified had she known about his method of drying socks.

For the next ten minutes they were both engrossed in the game. At the commercial break, Jason propped his ankle on his knee and turned to Rich.

“Why’d you bring up this marriage thing?”

“No reason. I was just wondering.”

“What about you?” Jason asked. “Isn’t it time you thought about settling down and fathering a houseful of kids?”

“Me?” Rich asked.

“Yes, you. Mom knows any future Mannings will have to come from you and Paul. She’s thrown up her hands in disgust at me.”

“I don’t think I’ll get married, either.”

Jason’s eyes widened with disbelief. “Why not?”

“Don’t look so surprised.”

“I am. You, Richard Manning, are definitely the marrying kind. Women flock to you.”

Plainly his older brother had an inflated view of Rich’s sexual prowess, and Rich couldn’t see any reason to disillusion him. “True, but not one of them, in all these years, has appealed to me enough to want to marry her.”

“What about Pamela?”

“That woman’s a—” Rich decided not to say it. “Put it this way. We don’t have much in common.”

“I thought you were still seeing her.”

“I do occasionally.” He took a swig of his beer and set it down, then reached for a bowl of popcorn. Leaning back, he rested his feet on the coffee table, crossing his ankles. “This is the life.” He made a point of changing the subject, growing uncomfortable with the topic of marriage, although he’d been the one foolish enough to introduce it.

“It doesn’t get much better than this,” Jason said enthusiastically.

Once again their attention reverted to the television. The Seattle football team, the Seahawks, was playing the Green Bay Packers in a heated contest for the National Football Conference title. The winner would go on to play in the Super Bowl. All of Seattle was excited about the game.

“What about kids?” Rich wanted to kick himself the instant the question left his lips. What the hell was the matter with him? He’d had no intention of talking to Jason about any of this.

“Children?” Jason’s attention didn’t stray from the game. “What about them?”

“If you don’t plan to marry, how do you feel about not having a child of your own?” This bothered Rich the most. He really would like a son or a daughter. Or both.

Jason took a long time answering, as though the question had caught him unprepared. “I don’t know … I hadn’t given children much thought. I guess I’d like a couple of kids someday, but on the other hand, I don’t want to get married in order to have them. But then—” he hesitated “—there’s no need to marry … not these days. We live in an enlightened age, remember?”

“Not marry the woman pregnant with my child?” Rich gave his brother a sour look. “I don’t care what age we live in. We both know better than that. A word of advice—don’t let Mom or Dad ever hear you say such a thing.”

Jason exhaled. “You’re right, that was a stupid idea.” He reached over to the bowl of popcorn Rich was holding and grabbed a handful. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“Not telling you?”

“Yeah. There’s something on your mind.”

“I’ll tell you what’s on my mind,” Rich said, picking up his beer. “Football. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re down by seven points and Green Bay’s got the ball on the fifteen-yard line.” He laughed, but his brother didn’t.

“You’re sure?” Jason asked a few minutes later. “The score’s the only thing bothering you?”

“Positive,” Rich assured him, feigning a smile. A man didn’t tell his older brother, especially one who assumed women flocked to him, that he was thinking about becoming a sperm donor.

Six days had passed, and if Rich didn’t call her soon, Jamie was convinced she’d have a nervous breakdown. Every time the phone rang, her heart shot to her throat and she started to tremble like an October leaf.

Rich had made a point of saying he’d be the one to call her, and he’d promised to do so within a week’s time. Nevertheless, the wait was killing her, and each day that passed seemed to increase her anxiety.

She’d just put a casserole in the oven when the doorbell chimed. Jamie’s gaze flew apprehensively toward the door. Even before she answered it, she knew it was Rich.

Inhaling a deep breath, she walked unsteadily across the carpet and opened the door.

“Hello, Jamie.”