Kitabı oku: «The Manning Brides: Marriage of Inconvenience / Stand-In Wife»

Make time for friends. Make time for Debbie Macomber.

CEDAR COVE

16 Lighthouse Road

204 Rosewood Lane

311 Pelican Court

44 Cranberry Point

50 Harbor Street

6 Rainier Drive

74 Seaside Avenue

8 Sandpiper Way

92 Pacific Boulevard

BLOSSOM STREET

The Shop on Blossom Street

A Good Yarn

Susannah’s Garden

(previously published as Old Boyfriends)

Back on Blossom Street

(previously published as Wednesdays at Four)

Twenty Wishes

Summer on Blossom Street

Hannah’s List

A Turn in the Road

Thursdays at Eight

Christmas in Seattle

Falling for Christmas

A Mother’s Gift

Angels at Christmas

The Manning Sisters

The Manning Brides

The Manning Grooms

Praise for New York Times bestselling author

Debbie Macomber

‘Debbie Macomber is a skilled storyteller and a sure-buy with readers’

—Publishers Weekly

‘Just what the doctor ordered for that feel-good factor’

—Sunday Express on Hannah’s List

‘A charming and touching tale of love, loss and friendship’

—Closer magazine on Hannah’s List

‘Another touching read from Macomber’

—OK! magazine on Susannah’s Garden

‘An emotional, heart-warming and highly enjoyable read’

—Closer magazine on Thursdays at Eight

‘She’s sold seventy million books and this is another heart-tugger’

—Evening Telegraph on A Turn in the Road

‘Debbie Macomber’s books have such a lovely feel-good factor to them’

—lovereading

The Manning Brides

Debbie Macomber

Rich’s Story

Marriage of Inconvenience

Paul’s Story

Stand-In Wife

www.mirabooks.co.uk

About the Author

DEBBIE MACOMBER is a number one New York Times bestselling author. Her recent books include 44 Cranberry Point, 50 Harbor Way, 6 Rainier Drive, and Hannah’s List. She has become a leading voice in women’s fiction worldwide and her work has appeared on every major bestseller list. There are more than one hundred million copies of her books in print. For more information on Debbie and her books, visit www.DebbieMacomber.com.

Rich’s Story

in

Marriage of Inconvenience

To Yakima’s Iron Maidens:

Cheryl Nixon, Ellen Bartelli, Joyce Falcon,

Jill Seshiki, Faye and Victoria Ives

One

“I’m so stupid,” Jamie Warren wailed, tossing the crumpled tissue over her shoulder. Rich Manning, who was sitting across the kitchen table from her, held out a fresh one. “I trusted Tony, and he’s nothing more than a … jerk.”

She yanked the tissue from Rich’s hand and ingloriously blew her nose. That tissue took the same path as the previous one. “I feel like the biggest fool who ever lived.”

“It’s Tony who’s the fool.”

“Oh, right. Then why am I the one sitting here crying my eyes out?” Jamie really didn’t expect him to answer. Calling Rich at an ungodly hour, sobbing out her tale of woe, wasn’t the most considerate thing she’d ever done, but she had to talk to someone and he was the first person who’d come to mind.

He was the kind of friend she felt comfortable calling in the middle of the night. The kind of friend who’d immediately drive over if she needed sympathy or consolation. They’d been close ever since they’d worked together on their yearbook in high school. Although they didn’t see each other often, Jamie had always felt their relationship was special.

“At least crying’s better than getting drunk, which is what I did when I found out Pamela was cheating on me,” Rich admitted with a wry twist of his mouth. He got up and poured them each another cup of coffee.

“You haven’t seen her since, have you?”

“Sure, I have. I wouldn’t want her to think I was jealous.”

Despite everything, Jamie laughed. “You’re still dating her? Even after you learned she was seeing another guy behind your back?”

Rich shrugged carelessly, as though the entire situation was of little consequence, something Jamie knew not to be the case. Although he’d been devastated, he’d worn a nonchalant facade. He might’ve fooled everyone else, but not Jamie. His flippant attitude couldn’t camouflage the pain.

“I took her to a movie a couple of times,” Rich continued. “I played it cool. But as far as I’m concerned, it was over the minute I heard about that other guy.”

“It’s over with me and Tony, too,” Jamie murmured. Just saying the words produced a painful tightening in her chest. She was truly in love with Tony and had been for nearly a year. They’d often talked about getting married and raising a family together. Jamie wanted children so badly. The weekend before, they’d gone shopping for engagement rings. Her mother, who was crazy about him, had been thrilled. Since Jamie was over thirty her mom tended to worry about her marriage prospects, but even she said that waiting for a man like Tony Sanchez had been time well spent. Sharing the bad news with her widowed mother had been almost as upsetting as learning about the betrayal itself.

“You’re sure the other woman’s baby is his?” Rich asked, reaching for her hand. “She could be stirring up trouble.”

“He didn’t bother to deny it.” In the beginning, Jamie had hoped the woman was lying. She’d searched Tony’s face, praying it was all some malicious joke. His beautiful dark eyes had turned defensive, but gradually the regret, the doubt, had shown, and he’d slid his gaze away from hers. It had been a mistake, he’d told her, a momentary slip in judgment. A one-night fling that meant nothing. He felt terrible about it and promised nothing like this would ever happen again.

Tony was cheating on her before they were even married, and Jamie didn’t need a crystal ball to know that pattern would almost certainly continue.

“This isn’t the first time,” she admitted, biting her lower lip to control the trembling. “Margie, in New Accounts, mentioned seeing Tony with a blonde a month or so ago. He’d told me he was out of town and I … I was sure it was just a case of mistaken identity. I should’ve known then.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Rich said, bending to brush a wisp of dark brown hair from her temple. “There were plenty of signs that Pamela was playing me for a fool, too, but I was so taken with her—”

“Bust line. Which was always your primary interest.”

“That’s probably why I never dated you,” he countered, grinning.

Jamie smiled. The joke was an old one between them. When they’d first been assigned to work together on the yearbook, Rich had been a popular football player and she’d been a nondescript bookworm. They’d clashed constantly. One day, after a particularly nasty confrontation, she’d shouted that if she had a bigger bust, he might actually listen to her. Rich had gone speechless, then he’d started to laugh. The laughter had broken the ice between them and they’d been friends ever since. The best of friends.

“I hear there’s help in the form of surgery,” he teased, leveling his gaze at her chest.

“Oh, honestly.” Her breasts weren’t that small, but it was comfortable and easy to fall into their old banter. Focusing on something other than what a mistake Tony had turned out to be provided her with a good—if momentary—distraction. She’d wasted an entire year of her life on him. An entire year!

Rich reached for his coffee, then leaned back in the chair and sighed. “I’m beginning to wonder if anyone’s faithful anymore.”

“I’m the last person you should be asking that,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee. She didn’t blame Rich for having doubts. Relationships all around her seemed to be failing. Friends, whose marriages had appeared strong and secure, were divorcing. At work affairs were rampant. Casual sex. Jamie was sick of it all.

“When Mark Brooks cheated on my sister Taylor, she took that teaching position in another state,” Rich went on to say. “You know, I never much liked Mark. From the first I felt there was something off about him. I wish I’d spoken to Taylor about it.”

“I felt so bad for her.”

“The whole family was worried. Then she moved to the backwoods of Montana and a few months later, she married Russ Palmer. Everyone was sure she’d made a terrible mistake, marrying a cowpoke on the rebound, but I’ve never seen her happier. And now Christy’s married to Cody Franklin.”

“Christy’s married to whom?”

“The Custer County sheriff. She’s living in Montana, too.”

“But I thought she was engaged to James Wilkens! Good grief, I was at her engagement party just a few months ago.”

“It’s a long story, but James is out of the picture.”

“Christy dumped James?” It was hard to believe. Jamie had assumed they were perfect for each other. They’d acted like the ideal couple at the engagement party, sipping champagne and discussing wedding dates with their families.

Rich chuckled. “If you’re surprised by that, wait until you hear this. While Christy was still engaged to James, she was married to Cody.”

Jamie was shocked. She didn’t know Rich’s youngest sister well, but she would never have imagined Christy doing anything so underhanded. “I am surprised.”

“There were mitigating circumstances and it’s not as bad as it sounds, but Christy is yet another example of how fickle women can be.”

“Women?” Jamie protested. “Men are notoriously untrustworthy—they always have been.”

It looked as though Rich wanted to argue. He straightened and opened his mouth, then shook his head. Sighing, he drank the last of his coffee. “I’ve begun to think commitment means nothing these days.”

“I hate to be so cynical, but I agree.”

Standing, Rich carried his mug to the kitchen sink. “Are you going to be able to sleep now?”

Jamie nodded, although she wasn’t convinced. However, she’d taken enough of Rich’s time for one night and didn’t want to keep him any longer.

“Liar,” he whispered softly.

Jamie smiled and got up, too. He slipped his arms around her and she laid her cheek against his shoulder. It felt good to be held. Rich’s comfort was that of a loving friend, someone who truly cared about her without the complications of romance or male-female dynamics.

“You’re going to get through this.”

“I know,” she whispered. But she hadn’t been confident of that until she’d talked to Rich. How fortunate she was to have him as her friend. “We both will,” she added.

A sigh rumbled through Rich’s chest. “Don’t you wish life could be as simple now as it was in high school?”

That remark gave Jamie pause. “No,” she finally said, then laughed. “I was so shy back then.”

“Shy?” Rich argued, releasing her enough to cast her a challenging look. “You were a lot of things, Jamie Warren, but shy wasn’t one of them.”

“Maybe not with you.”

“I wish you had been, then you might’ve done things my way without so much arguing.”

“You’re still upset that I didn’t use your picture on the sports page, aren’t you? We’ve been out of high school for thirteen years and you haven’t forgiven me for using that shot of Josh McGinnes instead.”

Rich chuckled. “I could be upset, but I’m willing to let bygones be bygones.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” She led him to the door of her condo. “Seriously, though, I really am grateful you came.”

“Call if you need me?”

She nodded. The worst of it was over. She would pick up the pieces of her life and start again, a little less trusting and a whole lot more wary.

Two months later, Rich was sitting in his office at Boeing when the image of Jamie Warren’s tear-streaked face drifted into his mind. It was as if their conversation had taken place just the night before—even though he’d talked to her two or three times over the holidays, and she’d sounded good. Cheerful, in fact. Certainly in better spirits than he’d been himself.

She hadn’t made any attempt to fool him. Tony had hurt her badly. From what she’d said, he’d made several attempts to resume their engagement, but she’d rejected the idea in no uncertain terms. It was plain to Rich that Tony Sanchez didn’t really know Jamie Warren. The woman was stubborn enough to impress a mule. Once she made up her mind, that was it. Oh, she appeared docile and easygoing, but Rich had collided with that stubborn streak of hers a time or two and come away battered and bruised.

It bothered Rich that Jamie had never married. She’d always loved children, and he’d fully expected her to have a passel of kids by now.

Most men, he realized, passed Jamie over without a second glance. That bothered him even more.

The problem, not that he’d call it a problem, was that she didn’t possess the looks of a beauty queen. She wasn’t plain, nor was she unappealing. She was just—he hated to admit it—ordinary. Generally, there was one thing or other that stood out in a woman. A flawless face. Cascades of shining hair, blond or gold or black … Jamie’s wasn’t blond and it wasn’t brunette but somewhere in between. And it wasn’t long, but it wasn’t short either. Some women had eyes that could pierce a man’s soul. Jamie had brown eyes. Regular brown eyes. Not dark or seductive or anything else, just brown eyes. Nice, but average.

She was about five-five, and a little on the thin side. Giving the matter some consideration, Rich noted that there didn’t seem to be any distinguishing curves on her. Not her hips, and certainly not her breasts. He could be mistaken of course, since he hadn’t really looked at her that way…. To be honest, he’d never looked at her in any way other than as a friend.

She didn’t have a body that would stop traffic. The thing was, a woman could have an ordinary face, but if she had curves, men fell all over themselves. Rich hated to admit something so derogatory about his fellow men, but he felt it was true.

What few took the time to see was Jamie’s warm heart and generous spirit. He’d never known a more giving woman. What she’d said about being shy was true, even though he’d denied it. Yet she had spunk and she had spirit. Enough to stand up to him, which was no easy thing.

Pushing against the edge of his desk, Rich rolled back his chair and stood up. He headed down the hallway with determination.

“Bill,” he said, striding purposefully into his friend’s office. “Got a minute?”

“What’s up?”

Rich had never played the role of matchmaker before, and he wasn’t sure where to start. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Oh.” Bill didn’t look too enthusiastic.

“A friend of mine.”

“Widowed or divorced?”

“Single.”

Bill’s brows arched toward his receding hairline. “You mean a leftover girl.”

Rich wasn’t comfortable thinking of Jamie as leftover, but this wasn’t the time to argue. “We went to high school together.”

“High school? Exactly how old is she?”

“Thirty-one.” Her birthday wasn’t until April. Their birthdays were both in April, and Jamie loved to point out that she was a whole week older.

“She’s never been married?” Bill asked, his voice rising suspiciously. “What’s the matter with her?”

“Nothing. She’s one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet.”

Bill reached for his In basket and took out a file, flipping it open. “I can’t tell you how many times friends—” he paused and glanced up “—good friends, have set me up. They always claim the girl’s one of the nicest people I’ll ever meet. No thanks, Rich.”

“No thanks? You haven’t heard anything about her.”

“I’ve heard enough.”

“What’s the matter with you?” It was hard to keep the irritation out of his voice. Bill was thirty-five and twenty pounds overweight, not to mention the receding hairline. Frankly, Rich didn’t think his friend had any right to be so damn choosy.

“Nothing’s wrong with me.”

“I thought you wanted to remarry.”

“I do. Someday, when I find the right woman.”

“You might well be passing her over this minute,” Rich said. “I’m not going to lie to you—she’s no Miss America, but she’s not ugly, if that’s what concerns you.”

“Why don’t you ask her out yourself, then?”

The question took Rich by surprise. “Well, because … because it would be like dating one of my sisters.”

Bill released an impatient sigh. “Why haven’t you said anything about her before?”

“She was involved with someone else.”

Bill shook his head emphatically. “Forget it. You’re a good friend and all that, but I’ve been set up too many times in the past few years. Frankly, your friend’s everything I want to avoid in a woman. She’s over thirty and never been married. It doesn’t help that she’s just out of a relationship, either. I’m sorry, Rich, I really am, but I’m not interested.”

Rich found Bill’s attitude downright insulting. Before he could stop himself, before he could analyze his actions, he reached for his wallet.

“What are you doing?” Bill wanted to know when Rich pulled out two tickets.

“These are for the Seahawks play-off game against Green Bay. The scalpers are getting three hundred bucks each for these. If you agree to call Jamie for a date, they’re yours.” His older brother would have his hide for this, but Rich would deal with Jason later.

Bill’s eyes rounded incredulously. “You mean you’re willing to give me two tickets to the Seahawks play-off game if I go out with your friend?”

“Yup.”

Even then Bill hesitated. “One date?”

“One date.” But once his fellow engineer got to know Jamie, he’d realize how special she was. In a few weeks, Bill would be looking for ways to repay him for this. Rich would keep that thought in mind when he told Jason he’d given away their play-off tickets.

“Someplace nice, too. No pizza in a bowling alley, understand?”

Bill’s hand closed over the tickets. “Dinner at the Space Needle followed by an evening at the ballet.”

“Good. Just don’t ever let Jamie know about this.”

Bill laughed. “Do I look that stupid?”

Rich didn’t reply, but in his opinion, any man who’d turn down the opportunity to meet Jamie Warren wasn’t exactly a candidate for Mensa.

“Here’s her phone number,” he said, writing it on a slip of paper. “I’ll give her a call, clear the way, but the rest is up to you.”

“No problem,” Bill said, pocketing the tickets.

Rich felt downright noble as he returned to his own office. Jamie was one hell of a woman and it was about time someone figured that out. Bill Hastings wasn’t nearly good enough for her, but he was an amiable guy. Without too much trouble Rich could picture Bill and Jamie a few years down the road, raising two or three kids.

He felt good about that, better than he’d felt about anything in quite a while.

That evening, Rich went to Jason’s apartment on his way home and was relieved to find his brother was out. That meant he could delay telling him what had become of the play-off tickets. It was definitely something he had to do in person, he told himself.

After killing an hour or two at his own apartment, Rich decided to drive over to Jamie’s. He rang her bell and waited. It hadn’t occurred to him that she might not be home. He was ready to turn away when he heard activity on the other side.

“Who is it?” she called.

“The big bad wolf.”

The sound of her laugh was followed by the click of the lock. She opened the door and Rich saw that he must have gotten her out of the tub. She’d hastily donned a white terrycloth robe that clung to her damp skin.

“Rich,” she said, surprise elevating her voice, “what are you doing here?” As she spoke, she finished knotting the belt around her waist.

The robe fell open below that, revealing a glimpse of thigh. Rich was having trouble taking his eyes off it and didn’t answer right away. His gaze followed a natural progression downward, and he was momentarily astounded to see what long shapely legs she had. Funny, he’d never noticed them before. He grinned, thinking Bill was in for a very pleasant shock.

“Go ahead and finish your bath,” he said casually, walking into her kitchen. “I’ll make myself at home while I wait.”

“I’m almost done.”

“Take your time,” he called out. He stuck his head inside the refrigerator and helped himself to an apple. He’d just taken his last bite when Jamie returned. As best he could tell, she’d run a brush through her hair and put on slippers. But that was it. The robe rode over her slender hips like a second skin.

“Do you have any plans tonight?” Generally he went out on Fridays, but there wasn’t anything he particularly felt like doing that evening.

“Got anything in mind?”

“A movie. I’ll even let you choose.”

“I suppose you’re going to make me pay my own way?”

“I might.” He grinned, pleased with himself for coming up with the idea. The suggestion that they attend a movie had been as much of a surprise to him as it obviously was to Jamie. As much of a surprise as offering Bill the play-off tickets …

Actually, it was a damn good idea. This way he could lead naturally, casually, into the subject of Bill. The last thing he wanted Jamie to think was that he’d arranged anything.

The movie was indeed a stroke of genius, Rich decided as they drove to the theater. He’d always enjoyed Jamie’s company and never more so than now. An evening with her was an escape from the games and pretenses involved in taking out someone new—and it was exactly what he needed to settle his nerves. He didn’t like to say much, particularly to his family, but Pamela had hurt him badly. He no longer trusted his judgment when it came to women. Oh, he dated. Often. But he was tired of all the games. Pamela hadn’t just broken his heart; the damage she’d inflicted went deeper than that. She’d caused him to doubt himself.

Rich pulled into a movie complex in the Seattle suburbs, close to Jamie’s condominium. He bought their tickets, but she insisted on buying the popcorn and the chocolate-covered raisins.

He was just thinking how nice it was to be with a woman who wasn’t constantly worrying about her weight when she leaned over and whispered, “You ate more than your share of the raisins.”

“Do you want me to buy more?”

“No. Just remember you owe me.”

It took him several minutes to realize he had no reason to be grinning the way he was, especially since the film was actually quite serious.

“We don’t do this often enough,” Rich said as they left the cinema two hours later. He meant it, too. He’d been at loose ends for a couple of months but hadn’t thought about contacting Jamie. Now he wondered why.

“No, we don’t,” she agreed, buttoning her coat. She wore jeans and a pale pink sweater. The color looked good on her. He was about to say as much when he remembered the reason for his impromptu visit.

“How about a cup of coffee?” he suggested, linking his arm with hers. There was a coffee shop in the same complex as the theater, and he steered them in that direction.

He waited until they were seated and looking over their menus before he brought up the subject of Bill. “There’s someone at work I’d like you to meet.”

Jamie didn’t raise her eyes from the menu. “Who?”

“Bill Hastings. You’ll like him.”

“Is he tall, dark and handsome?”

“Yes. No and no.”

“Sounds like my kind of man,” she joked, setting aside the menu. The waitress filled their mugs with coffee and Jamie stirred in a liberal measure of cream. “From everything I’ve heard, it’s best to avoid the handsome ones.”

“Oh?” He could guess what was coming. He wasn’t conceited, but Rich knew he was easy on the eyes—a fact that hadn’t gone unnoticed from the time he was in his early teens. Rich had never lacked for female attention, some he’d sought and some he hadn’t.

“Yes,” she said. “The handsome ones can’t be trusted.”

“Who says?” Rich demanded, feigning outrage.

“Everyone,” Jamie returned without a pause. “They’re too impressed with themselves. Or so I hear.”

Rich chuckled and, motioning for the waitress, ordered a chef’s salad. He felt like having a decent meal for the first time in weeks. He didn’t even complain when Jamie stole his olives, claiming it was the least he could do for hogging the chocolate-covered raisins.

Tuesday morning, Bill marched into Rich’s office, pulled out a chair and plunked himself down. His face was creased with a heavy frown. “It didn’t work.”

Rich tried to figure out which project Bill was referring to and came up blank. They were both part of an engineering team working on a Boeing defense contract. Rich had volunteered for this job, knowing it would entail plenty of overtime hours. The challenge was something he needed at this point in his career—and his life.

“What do you mean?” he asked Bill.

“She turned me down flat.”

Bill couldn’t possibly be talking about Jamie. He’d paved the way for him! He’d managed to casually drop his name into the conversation at least three times. Enough to pique her curiosity, but not so often that she’d suspect he was setting them up.

“She turned you down?” Rich echoed, still unable to believe it. “Obviously you didn’t try all that hard.”

“If I’d tried any harder, I would’ve been arrested,” Bill muttered.

“What the hell did you say to her?”

“Nothing. I called her Saturday afternoon, just like you suggested. I mentioned your name right off and told her we worked together and have for several years. I wanted her to feel comfortable talking to me.” He hesitated as though he was still trying to understand what had gone wrong.

“Then what happened?” Rich could feel himself losing patience. He’d risked his brother’s wrath by giving up those tickets and he wasn’t about to let Bill off so easily.

“That’s just it. Nothing happened. We must’ve talked for ten or fifteen minutes and you’re right—she sounds nice. The more we talked, the more I realized I wouldn’t mind getting to know her. She said you two were on the yearbook staff together…. She even told me a few insider secrets about your glorious football days.”

“What the hell were you doing talking about me?” Rich demanded.

“I was establishing common ground.”

Rich brought one hand to his mouth in an effort to hide his irritation. “Go on.”

“There’s not much more to tell. After several minutes of chitchat, I asked her out to dinner. Honest, Rich, I was beginning to look forward to meeting her. I couldn’t have been more shocked when she turned me down.”

“What did she say?”

“Not much,” Bill admitted, his frown deepening. “Just that she’d given up dating and although she was sure I was a perfectly fine guy, she wasn’t interested.”

“You didn’t take that sitting down, did you?”

“Hell, no. I sent her a dozen roses Monday morning, hoping that would convince her. Red roses, expensive ones. I didn’t get them in any grocery store, either. These were flower shop roses, top quality.”

“And?”

“That didn’t do it, either. She phoned and thanked me, but said she still wasn’t interested. Said she felt bad that I’d gone to the expense of sending her flowers, though.”

Rich muttered under his breath. Bill had just encountered that stubborn pride of hers. Rich knew from experience that once she’d made up her mind, nothing was going to change it. Not flowers, not arguments, nothing.

Bill sighed unhappily. “You aren’t going to make me return the Seahawks tickets, are you?” he asked.

Two

Jamie was sitting at her kitchen table, reading the application from the adoption agency, when the doorbell rang. A long blast was immediately followed by three short, impatient ones. By the time she’d stood and walked to the door, whoever was on the other side was knocking loudly.

She checked the peephole. Rich. And from the look of him, he was furious. Unbolting the lock, she opened the door.

Without a word, he marched into the center of her living room, hands deep in the pockets of his full-length winter coat. Damn, but the man was attractive, Jamie noted, not for the first time. Much too handsome for his own good. His blue eyes were flashing, which only added to his appeal—even if they were flashing with annoyance, not laughter or warmth.

“You turned down Bill Hastings’s dinner invitation and I want to know why,” he said without preamble.

Jamie sighed. She should’ve realized Rich would be upset about that. He’d obviously gone to a lot of trouble to arrange the date and even more trying to conceal it from her. The seemingly impromptu visit Friday night, the movie and coffee afterward, had all led up to his singing Bill Hastings’s praises. He’d listed Bill’s apparently limitless virtues at length and actually seemed to think he was being subtle about setting her up.

To be fair, she’d enjoyed talking to Bill. He’d seemed cordial enough, and he had sent her the roses, which really were lovely. But he hadn’t said or done anything to change her mind. It did seem rather harsh to turn him down sight unseen, but she was saving them both future heartbreak and disappointment. Bill accepted her decision with good grace, but that clearly wasn’t the case with Rich.

“Well?” Rich demanded. He walked around her couch, as though standing still was impossible, but if he didn’t stop circling it soon, he was going to make her dizzy.

“He sounds very nice.”

“The guy’s perfect for you,” Rich argued, gesturing toward her. “I match the two of you up and then you turn him down. I can’t believe you refused to even meet him!”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not interested.”

“One date,” he cried, waving his index finger at her. “What possible harm could there be in one lousy dinner date?”

“None, I’m sure,” she said calmly. “Listen, do you intend to stay long enough to take off your coat, or are you just dropping in to argue with me on your way to someplace else?”

“Are you going to let Tony do this to you?” he challenged, disregarding her question. He plowed his fingers through his hair, something he’d done often today if the grooves along the side of his head were any indication.

“Tony has very little to do with this.” Rather than discuss the man who’d wounded her so deeply, Jamie moved into the kitchen and poured them glasses of iced tea, which gave her a few minutes to compose her thoughts.

“Obviously Tony has everything to do with this, otherwise you wouldn’t have told Bill you’d given up dating. Which, by the way, is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” He shrugged off his coat and draped it over the back of a kitchen chair.

“Really?” Leaning against the kitchen counter, she added sugar and ice to her glass, stirred, then sipped from her tea. Rich ignored the glass she’d poured him.

“It’s not true, is it?”

He glared at Jamie as though he expected her to deny everything. But she couldn’t see any reason to lie. “As a matter of fact it is.”

Rich’s jaw sagged open. “Why?”

“You really need to ask?” Jamie said with a light laugh.

“How can you deny that Tony’s responsible for this?”

She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “In part he is, but this decision isn’t solely due to what happened with him. It’s just one more disappointment. If anything, I’m grateful I found out what kind of man Tony is before we were married.”

The timer on her oven dinged. Setting aside her tea, Jamie reached for a pot holder and took out a bubbling chicken potpie. The recipe was one she’d come across in a women’s magazine and it had looked delicious. True, the meal was large enough to feed a family of four, but she intended to freeze half of it.

“Have you had dinner? Would you like to join me?” She extended the invitation casually as she set the steaming pie on top of the stove to cool.

“No,” Rich answered starkly. “I’m not hungry.”

“It seems to me you’ve lost weight. Have you?”

“I’m not here to discuss my weight,” he barked, “which hasn’t changed since high school, I might add.”

His attitude was slightly defensive, but Jamie decided to ignore it. He had lost weight; she’d noticed it soon after he’d broken off the relationship with Pamela. Jamie had never met the other woman and it was all she could do to think civilly of her. If anyone was ever a fool, it was Rich’s former girlfriend.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Rich said. His voice had lowered and he seemed less persistent now. Jamie suspected he’d spent the day seething over her decision not to date his friend.

“Which question didn’t I answer?” she asked, putting the pot holder back in the top drawer.

“What made you decide to give up dating?”

“Oh.” She pulled out a chair and sat down. Rich did, too. “Well, it wasn’t something I did lightly, trust me. It was a gradual decision made over the past few months. I honestly feel it’s the right one for me. I feel better than I have in years.” She tried to reassure him with a warm smile. He was frowning at her as though he wanted to argue. Rich had always been passionate when it came to people he cared about. “I’m nearly thirty-two years old,” she added.

“So?”

“So,” she said with a laugh, “there aren’t many eligible men left for me.”

“What about Bill Hastings? He’s eligible.”

“Divorced, right?”

“Right. But what’s that got to do with anything?”

He wasn’t going to like her answer, but Jamie wouldn’t be less than honest. “I’ve dated plenty of divorced men over the years. My experience may not be like anyone else’s, but I’ve discovered that if their wives left them, there’s generally a damn good reason. And if there isn’t, they’re so traumatized by the divorce they’ve become emotional cripples.”

“That’s ridiculous! And furthermore, it’s not fair.”

“I’m sure there are exceptions. I just haven’t found any.”

“In other words, you wouldn’t date Bill because he’s divorced.”

“Not … exactly. It’s more than that. I don’t want to date anyone right now, divorced or not.”

“What about single men? You’re only thirty-one, for heaven’s sake. There are lots of single men out there who’d give anything to meet a woman like you.”

Jamie had to swallow a sarcastic reply. If there were as many eligible single men as Rich seemed to think, she certainly hadn’t met them. “Obviously I haven’t had much luck with that group, either,” she said. “I hate to burst your bubble here, but single men aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. If a man’s in his thirties and not married, there’s usually a reason for it. Besides, single men over thirty are so set in their ways, they have problems adjusting to the natural give-and-take of a healthy relationship.”

“That’s downright insulting.”

“I don’t mean it to be.” She stood up to get two plates. “You’re having dinner with me, right?”

He nodded.

“I’m not going to lie to you and claim Tony had nothing to do with this,” she went on. “He hurt me, and it took me weeks to work through the pain. As strange as it may seem, I’m actually grateful for what Tony taught me. He helped me reach some sound, honest decisions about my life.”

“If this no-dating stand of yours is one of them, then I’d do some rethinking if I were you.” Rich opened the silverware drawer and took out two knives and forks. Without glancing at the adoption papers, he placed them to one side and had the table set by the time she brought over their plates. Jamie couldn’t help being pleased that he’d agreed to join her for dinner.

“My biggest, and probably most significant realization,” she said while smoothing the napkin across her lap, “was that I like my life the way it is. I don’t need a man to feel complete.”

Several minutes passed before Rich spoke. “That sounds healthy, but to lock the door on any chance of a relationship—”

“I’m not locking the door,” she interrupted, eager to correct that impression. “I’m just not looking for one. I’ve wasted years trying to fulfill my dream of being married and raising children.”

Rich took a bite of the chicken potpie and raised his eyebrows. “Hey, this is great.”

“Thank you.” She tried it herself and was satisfied with her culinary efforts. Taking the time to cook real meals instead of throwing together a sandwich or resorting to frozen entrées had been another decision she’d reached. It might seem silly, but cooking gave her a feeling of permanence and purpose. She was doing something healthy for herself, and she felt good about it.

“Everything you’ve said makes sense,” Rich admitted reluctantly.

“Don’t sound so shocked.”

“It’s just that I’ve always pictured you with kids….”

“I’ve got that covered,” she said enthusiastically, removing the top sheet of the papers Rich had stacked on the other side of the table. “I intend to adopt.”

“I know they let single people adopt children now,” he said, “but two-parent families are better for kids.”

“Ideally, yes,” Jamie agreed. “But sometimes there’s no alternative. Anyway, from what I’ve read, I don’t think it’s going to be easy or anytime soon, especially if I want a newborn.”

“Which you do?”

Jamie nodded. If she was only going to be a mother once, then she wanted as much of the experience as she could have, including midnight feedings, teething and changing diapers. “I have an appointment with a counselor at an adoption agency tomorrow afternoon. I haven’t been this excited about anything in years.”

“I’ll bet you haven’t told your mother.”

Jamie rolled her eyes at the thought. “It’s better if I don’t say anything, at least for now. Mom’s wonderful, but she’d never understand this.”

Rich chuckled, but as the laughter drained from his features, his eyes took on a faraway look. “You know what?”

“What?” she asked softly.

“I’ve basically come to the same conclusion about dating. I’m sick to death of the games and women whose only interest is getting me in the sack. I never knew women could be so aggressive.”

Intrigued, Jamie could only nod. She would never have believed Rich was experiencing the same difficulties she had. For years she’d been expecting him to marry, but she’d never felt comfortable enough to ask why he hadn’t.

“I’ve spent ten years looking for a woman who believes love lasts longer than an hour,” he added grimly. “As for commitment and honesty, I don’t think they exist anymore. Or if they do, then I can’t seem to find anyone who believes in them. After Pamela cheated on me I realized I’m a self-reliant adult—and if I never married, it wouldn’t make my life any less worthwhile.”

“That’s how I feel,” Jamie said. “I just never thought that—”

“I did, too,” he finished for her.

“Exactly.”

They exchanged a look—a look wrought with understanding and empathy. They’d been friends for years and Jamie had never known how much they actually had in common.

“I had no idea it was happening to you, too,” she whispered. She felt as though she was deprived of oxygen. Everything in the kitchen seemed to fade from view. Everything except Rich. If anything, his dark good looks came into sharper focus. As she had a thousand times before, Jamie acknowledged how very handsome Rich Manning was. But there was much more there, more than she’d ever noticed. This was a man of character and strength. A man of substance. He looked older; the years had marked their passage. There were wrinkles on his forehead and shadows beneath his eyes. The well-defined angles of his cheeks as well as the lines bracketing his mouth only made his face more masculine, more appealing.

The silence between them stretched to embarrassing lengths. It was Jamie who pulled her eyes away first. With a weak smile, she picked up her fork and managed to swallow a bite of her dinner.

“This turned out well, didn’t it?” she said in a casual voice.

“Excellent.” He seemed equally intent on putting their conversation back on an even keel. He attacked his dinner as though he’d entered a speed-eating competition.

They chatted for several more minutes, teased each other, exchanged the banter that was so familiar to them. Rich insisted on helping her clean up, but as soon as the last dish was put away, he made his excuses and left.

Jamie felt weak afterward. As weak and trembly as the first time she’d stood on the high dive. The feeling wasn’t any more comfortable now than it had been all those years ago.

Hard though he tried over the next few days, Rich couldn’t forget the look he’d shared with Jamie at her kitchen table on Tuesday evening. He’d tried to define it, decipher its meaning. It was the kind of look longtime lovers exchanged. The kind he’d witnessed between Taylor and Russ, as though they didn’t need words to say what was in their hearts.

But he and Jamie had never been lovers. To the best of his knowledge, they’d never even kissed. Really kissed. A peck on the cheek now and then. A friendly hug, perhaps. That was it. Their relationship had always been strictly platonic. It was the way they’d both wanted it. Anything else would have destroyed the special closeness they shared.

Rich shook his head in an effort to banish the disturbing thoughts that had taken up residence there. Until Tuesday, he’d seen Jamie as ordinary. Not anymore.

Still, nothing had changed, not really. At least nothing he could put his finger on. Jamie Warren was the same person she’d always been.

Not so, he corrected. Her eyes had been different.

To think he’d once believed her eyes were an average shade of brown. He’d never seen eyes the precise color of Jamie’s. They were a blend of green and brown; some would call it hazel, he supposed. That night they’d been more green, reminiscent of the mist rising off a moss-covered forest floor….

But it wasn’t her eyes that had intrigued him. It was something more profound than that. Something more baffling, too.

His musing was interrupted by the phone. Rich grabbed the television remote and muted the volume. He didn’t know why he’d bothered to turn it on—from habit, he guessed. For the past hour he hadn’t heard a single word of the local or national news. He’d been too busy analyzing what had happened between him and Jamie.

“Hello,” he answered briskly. Pamela sometimes phoned him, and he braced himself in case it was her.

“Hi,” came the soft feminine voice he recognized immediately as Jamie’s.

“Hi, yourself.” He felt a bit ill at ease, which he’d never experienced with her. It was as though they hadn’t found their stride with each other yet, which made no sense. Perhaps he was taking his cue from Jamie. She didn’t sound quite like herself; she sounded tense, as if it had taken some courage to call him.

“I was just thinking about you.” He probably shouldn’t have admitted that, but it had slipped out.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I was going to give you a call later and find out how the appointment with the adoption agency went.”

She paused, and he heard her take a deep breath. “Actually, that’s the reason I’m calling you. Are you busy?”

“Not really. What do you have in mind?”

“Would it be all right if I came by for a few minutes? There’s something I need to talk over with you.”

“Sure, you’re welcome anytime.” He glanced around the apartment to see what kind of shape it was in. Not bad. Not especially good, either, but he’d have time to pick up the newspapers and straighten the cushions.

As it turned out, he had time to wipe down the kitchen counter, as well, and stick his dirty dishes in the dishwasher. The best meal he’d had in weeks had been the chicken potpie at Jamie’s place. He didn’t remember her being such an accomplished cook. She certainly seemed full of surprises lately.

Jamie arrived about ten minutes after her phone call. She wore jeans and the same pink sweater she’d had on the night they went to the movies. He was about to tell her how nice she looked, but stopped himself. Curiously, his heart stopped, too. Just a little.

“That didn’t take long,” he said instead.

“No … But we only live four or five miles from each other.”

“Yeah.” He led the way to the sofa and sat down, resting one ankle on the opposite knee and draping his arm along the back. “So, what’s up?”

Jamie sat down, too, but he noticed that she sat on the very edge of the cushion and rubbed her hands nervously down her arms. He wondered if she was cold.

That prompted him to say, “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“Please,” she said eagerly.

Rich couldn’t shake the impression that she was interested in the coffee more as a delaying tactic than out of any real desire for something to warm her.

He made a pot of coffee, and a few minutes later, brought two steaming mugs into the living room. He had to look around for coasters, but once he found them, he sat down on the recliner across from her and resumed his relaxed pose.

“How’d the appointment with the adoption agency go?” he asked, when she didn’t immediately launch into her reason for the visit. She hadn’t really answered his question earlier.

Her hands cradled the mug and she stared into its depths. “Not very well, I’m afraid. Naturally, the agency prefers to place newborns with established families. Besides, the waiting list is years long, and I don’t feel I have all that time to wait.”

“I’m sorry to hear it.” Rich could feel her disappointment.

“If I’m going to have a child, I want to be young enough to enjoy her.”

“Her?”

“Or him,” she amended quickly, briefly glancing his way.

“So what’s next?”

For a long time she didn’t say anything. Rich might have grown impatient with anyone else, but he found himself more tolerant with Jamie. He watched the emotions move across her face and tried to read her thoughts. It was impossible to know what she had on her mind, but whatever it was seemed to burden her.

“You’re going to think I’m a candidate for intensive counseling when I tell you this.”

“Try me.”

“I … I’ve made an appointment with my gynecologist. I want to discuss the possibility of being artificially inseminated.”

Rich was relieved that his mouth wasn’t full of coffee, otherwise he would’ve choked to death. “You’re going to do what?”

Jamie stood abruptly and walked around the back of his recliner. She braced her hands against the sides as she stood behind him. “I know it sounds crazy, but I plan to have a child, and if I can’t adopt, this was the best idea I could come up with.”

“What about checking with another adoption agency?”

“I did. Five others, and the story’s the same. If I want an infant, it’ll mean years on a waiting list. Two of the agencies wouldn’t even talk to me. The others tried to persuade me to become a foster parent with the hope of adopting at some point in the distant future. I want a baby. Is that so wrong?”

“No,” he assured her gently.

“I’m nearly thirty-two years old, and my biological clock is ticking. Not so loud it keeps me awake nights, but loud enough. If I’m going to do this, it’s got to be soon.” Jamie’s eyes filled with tears, but she was too proud and too stubborn to let them fall. Her gaze met his without wavering. Did she regret being honest because it forced her to reveal her deepest secrets?

“What about the father?” he mumured.

“I … I’m not sure. I’ve read everything I could find on the subject, which isn’t all that much. I understand there’s a sperm bank in our area. I don’t know what else to tell you, since I haven’t been to the doctor yet. I’ll have more answers once I’ve had a chance to talk it over with him.”

“I see.” Rich could hardly believe they were even having this discussion. “You’re positive you want to go through with this?” The minute he asked, he knew he’d made a mistake.

Steely determination shone from Jamie’s eyes. “I’m going to do this, Rich, so don’t try to talk me out of it.”

Her warning wasn’t necessary; he was well aware that any attempt to dissuade her would be pointless. “Are you worried about what people might say?” he asked. “Is that what’s bothering you?”

She shrugged. “A little. The biggest hurdle will be my mother, but I’m not too worried. It’s my life. Besides, she’s been after me to have children for years. Of course, she’d prefer it if I were married, but I’ve decided against that.” Her eyes met his again. She seemed nervous, edgy. Rich couldn’t remember Jamie being either. Until tonight.

“Something’s troubling you.”

She closed her eyes and nodded. “You’re just about the best friend I have.”

“I’m honored.”

“I have several close girlfriends. I’ve been a maid of honor twice and a bridesmaid three times. But when I found out about Tony, it was you I turned to. You’re the one I felt I could wake up in the middle of the night.”

“I feel the same way about you.”

Her smile was genuine, if a little shaky. “That pleases me more than you know. We’re good friends.”

“Good friends,” Rich echoed. Good enough for him to hand over two fifty-yard-line play-off tickets on the off-chance she might find happiness with Bill Hastings. He’d done it without pause, too.

“I’d do just about anything for you,” she said, eyeing him closely.

Rich didn’t know why he felt that was a leading statement, but he did. The door was wide open for him to echo the sentiment. “You’re special to me, too. Do you mind telling me exactly where this conversation is heading?”

Jamie came around the chair and sat on the sofa again. She leaned forward and rubbed her palms together, as though she was outside in below-freezing temperatures. She seemed more sure of herself now.

“You’re such a handsome guy.”

Rich frowned. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“You come from a wonderful family.”

That was true enough. “So?”

“You’re tall. What I wouldn’t give for an extra two inches.”

“Jamie, what the hell are you talking about?”

She stood up, still rubbing her palms. Once more she positioned herself behind his recliner. “I … I was having dinner when it dawned on me exactly what I’d decided to undertake. I want a child and because I do, I’m willing to be subjected to heaven knows what kinds of medical procedures. I don’t care. It’s a small sacrifice, and I’m amenable to whatever it takes. The only aspect of this entire scenario that disturbs me is giving birth to a stranger’s child. A man I’ve never met, never even seen. Then it came to me. There’s one person, a man I admire and trust above all others. It didn’t make sense to go through all this and have a stranger’s baby when … when there’s already someone in my life who’s tall, dark and handsome. Someone with excellent chromosomes who might be willing to contribute to this project.”

“What are you saying?” Maybe she didn’t mean what he thought she meant. Maybe this was all a dream and he’d wake in the morning and have a good laugh. Maybe Jamie wasn’t wrong about the counseling. There seemed to be a hundred maybes in this. Rich didn’t like the answer to a single one of them.

Jamie looked into his eyes and smiled, the softest, sweetest smile he’d ever seen. “I’m asking you to be the sperm donor for my baby.”