If the Stick Turns Pink.... Carla Cassidy
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face-to-face.
She’d always been one of those people who thought cell phones were silly indulgences, but now she desperately wished she had one.
Maybe she’d have time to sneak into the office and use the phone, she thought. But at that moment her next set of parents arrived.
It was eight-thirty by the time she finished with the last of her meetings. She left the building and hurried toward her car, eager to get to Bailey’s and tell him the latest rumor making the rounds.
She unlocked her car door, then squealed in surprise as a hand touched her on the back. She whirled around to see Bailey. “You nearly scared me to death,” she exclaimed. “I was just getting ready to go to your place.”
“We need to talk,” he said. “How about we take a walk over to Millie’s and get a cup of coffee.” Millie’s Family Restaurant was the most popular place in Foxrun.
Melanie nodded her assent, and together the two of them started walking toward the restaurant on Main Street. As usual, Melanie had to lengthen her strides to match his, and as usual, he was clad in tight, worn jeans and a T-shirt.
She couldn’t help but notice how the worn denim hugged the length of his long, muscular legs and emphasized his trim waist.
“Have you heard the newest rumor making its way around town?” she asked tentatively.
“If it’s the one I think it is, I’m afraid I’m the one who started it.”
“What?” She stopped in her tracks and stared at him.
“Come on, I’ll explain everything over a cup of coffee.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the door of Millie’s.
A bell over the door tinkled as they entered into the warm, heavenly scented interior of the restaurant. It was late enough in the evening that there were few diners.
Bailey led her to the back booth, their regular spot for dining. Almost immediately Samantha, Foxrun’s sheriff’s teenage daughter, appeared to take their orders.
“Just coffee for me,” Bailey said.
“The same for me,” Melanie agreed. “Now, are you going to tell me what’s going on?” she asked when Samantha had departed.
He leaned back against the red plastic booth and raked a hand through his hair in distraction. “Remember our conversation this afternoon when I told you I was half afraid some Miss Dairy Cow contestant would show up naked in my bed?”
Astonishment swept through her. “Don’t tell me…who?”
“SueEllen Trexlor, but she wasn’t in my bed, she was in my shower.”
“Naked?”
“As a jaybird.”
They both stopped talking as Samantha returned to the booth with two cups of steaming coffee. When she left them once again, Melanie stifled a grin with one of her hands. “Tell me all.”
“It isn’t funny,” Bailey exclaimed with a scowl. “It was downright embarrassing.”
She tried to keep the grin from her lips. “So, how did things go from a naked SueEllen in your shower to the rumor that we’re engaged?”
Bailey frowned and wrapped his hands around his mug. “I guess your crazy idea was still going around in my head when I opened my shower door and saw her there waiting for me. I panicked and told her I was an engaged man.” The blue of his T-shirt intensified the blue of his eyes as he held her gaze. “Who did you hear it from?”
“Kathy Milsap. According to her, SueEllen told Teri, who told Krista who told Kathy.” She shrugged. “You know how things spread in Foxrun.”
“I know,” he replied, looking utterly miserable.
“Honestly, Bailey, it isn’t the end of the world,” she exclaimed. “The way I see it we have two choices. You can either tell everyone you’re a liar or we can get married and follow through on the plan I outlined this afternoon.”
His frown deepened and he stared down into his coffee mug. Melanie waited patiently, knowing that Bailey never did anything without thinking through his options.
She took a sip of her coffee and tried not to notice the length of his long dark lashes, the attractive structure of his facial features.
There had been a time in high school when raging hormones or something alien had made her yearn for Bailey in a way that had nothing to do with their friendship.
She had stayed awake nights wondering what it would be like if he kissed her passionately on her lips. She’d suddenly been intensely aware of his scent, his strong hands and his broad chest. She had hungered for the touch of his hands, to be crushed against his chest, to taste the heat of his kiss.
Then he’d started dating Marlie Walker, a girl with boobs bigger than her IQ and a reputation for being fast with the boys.
Melanie realized then she would never be the kind of girl to attract Bailey on anything more than a friendship level, and she’d studiously shoved aside thoughts of any other kind of relationship with him. And nothing since that time had made her believe any differently.
All she wanted from Bailey Jenkins was his undying friendship and a baby. She could almost smell the scent of baby powder in the air, and she realized how much she wanted him to agree with her plan.
“There’s a third option,” he said, pulling her back to the here and now. A smile curved the corners of his lips, letting her know he was pleased with whatever he’d come up with. “We could just be engaged until after the Miss Dairy Cow contest. That would keep the worst of the nutty contestants out of my hair. Then, when the pageant is over, we can break our engagement.”
“No way, Bailey Jenkins,” she exclaimed irritably. “There’s no way you get what you want unless I get what I want. If I’m going to protect you from the crown-crazy young women of this town, the least you can do is marry me temporarily and make me pregnant.”
She had that look in her eyes. Bailey recognized it well—the stubborn, determined gaze telling him that to argue with her would be futile. She’d had that same look in her bright-green eyes when they’d been juniors in high school and she’d told him she intended to run against Roger Wayfield, star quarterback, for student council president.
Bailey had tried to talk her out of running, believing there was no way she could win against Roger and wanting to spare her the hurt of a loss, but she’d dug into the campaign with a tenacity and determination that had carried her to a win.
“Mellie, be reasonable,” he said, deciding to ignore the fiery light of resolve in her eyes and talk some sense into her. “If we just pretend to be engaged for the next six weeks or so, then my life will be considerably less complicated, and at the end of the six weeks nobody gets hurt.”
“The same thing could be said if we get married,” she replied, obviously refusing to be swayed. “Bailey, you’re my best friend. A little thing like a divorce won’t do anything to change our friendship. Especially since we’re both going into it with our eyes wide open.”
“But you know I had no intention of ever marrying again,” Bailey reminded her. “And I certainly don’t want a child.”
She tucked a strand of her long, copper-hued hair behind her ear and sighed in obvious frustration. “But that’s what makes you so perfect. I know you don’t want to be a father. I wouldn’t expect you to be a hands-on kind of father. I’m perfectly capable of raising a child on my own. And I keep telling you this won’t be a real marriage. Nothing will be different between us except—” she looked down into her mug, her cheeks taking on a shade of pink “—we’ll have to be, you know, intimate in order for me to get pregnant.”
Bailey frowned, looked into his mug, then at her once again. “I know how badly you want a baby, Mellie, but this idea of yours isn’t the