A Match Made in Heaven?

“Belgian chocolate, lite … low carbs.”

“Could get used to the taste … you.”

“I love you, Johnny Belen.”

The priest coughed. “Is there a wedding to be had?”

“Just a minute.” Sam twisted aside and popped the red lenses from her eyes. After tossing them behind her, she turned to him and looked every inch the radiant bride. Johnny gulped, and hauled her back into his embrace.

“Did you really drop Michael off at the pound?” She muffled a giggle with her veils.

Michael was pressed flat against the back wall and inching his way to the door. A Doberman Pinscher pawed his chest and slurped his face.

“Willie’s Doggie Salon, sweetheart.” Johnny caught sight of his buddy scrambling to round up the animals, and his mouth twitched at the corners. “Start up in Goodsprings, Nevada.”

“Never heard of it—”

“Well, that’s because it’s—”

“Johnny, you trekked across the desert to find me,” she whispered, delighted.

“I did,” he murmured. “The Mojave Desert no less.”

She laughed, the sound ringing off stained glass windows like the bells of St. Mary’s. “Funny man.”

“Yeah.” He swallowed the lump in his throat before it exploded into a confession he might later regret.

“Do you want a wedding or not?” the priest asked in exasperation, but his mouth twitched a smile.

“I do,” she said.

“I do,” he said.

“I pronounce you man and wife.” The priest breathed a sigh of relief and blotted his moist brow with the back of his hand. “You may kiss the bride.”

A sliver of doubt pricked his heart, but when she threw her arms around his neck and smiled, it dissipated. Amidst shrieks and snarling dogs, the sweetest serenade he ever heard, Johnny kissed his Sam.

************

Two years later …

“Honey …” Samantha stood at the kitchen counter mixing pancake batter in a plastic bowl.

“Mmm.” Johnny wrapped his arms around her protruding belly and pushed aside the collar of her sweatshirt, nuzzling her neck.

“Someone’s at the door.” She leaned back against his chest, breath checking in her throat. “Uh … will you get it?”

“No.” He nibbled at her earlobe.

“Jo— ”

He nipped the tip of her ear. “If I must.”

Smiling, she watched him stride from the tiny kitchen. She pressed one hand to the small of her back and rubbed her swelling abdomen with the other. A sigh of contentment slipped from her mouth. The baby was due in three months.

Johnny walked back, pulling the letter from the envelope.

She plopped the spoon in the batter. “What is it?”

He remained silent, perusing the page.

“Johnny?”

“Special delivery.”

“What’s it say?”

He glanced up, not quite meeting her eyes, a wry twist on his mouth. “You don’t want to know.”

Chapter Two (#ub4f1fb91-2fb8-5b5b-b4e0-03879c22a198)

Samantha leaned over his shoulder, and the words hit her like a sledgehammer. “Not married!” She snatched the paper from his hand, her gaze riveted on the black bold-faced type. “Notlegally married.” She raised her eyes and collided with his look of consternation.

“Is this possible, Johnny?”

He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Dunno.”

Laughter bubbled from her, first softly, then growing louder. She swallowed the hysteria and her shoulders drooped, her face crumbling.

“Sam?”

“We-we’re not married.” She swiped her damp cheeks with the back of her hand, sure her mascara, her one luxury, and pancake batter blended on her face. “A-nd I’m six months pregnant.”

Johnny reached for her, and then let his hand drop by his side. “We can clear this up … sure it’s some kind of mistake.”

She groaned. “Mamma’ll have a royal fit.”

He scowled. “More like she’ll boogie woogie.”

“Wish you two would get alo—” She bit off the words that’d trigger an argument between them and spread her hand across her big belly.

“You okay?” He stepped closer.

“No.”

“Is it the baby?” he asked, his voice uneasy.

“Yes … no … what I mean is … yes, baby’s okay.”