A Husband of Her Own. Brenda Novak

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A Husband of Her Own - Brenda  Novak


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      “Josh, good to see you,”

       Rebecca said, forcing a smile

      He gave her that crooked grin of his, the one that showed his dimples, and immediately called her on the lie. “Are you sure?”

      Hell, no. “I’m trying to be positive,” she said, clasping her hands in front of her because she suddenly didn’t know where to put them. Katie and Mona—and everyone else—were watching avidly.

      He settled his black felt cowboy hat farther back on his head. “So this truce thing is for real.”

      “I guess,” she said with a shrug.

      “Because I gotta tell ya, that fiasco at your sister’s wedding was…” He shook his head and let his breath go all at once.

      “I can’t believe you’d even bring that up,” Rebecca responded, bridling. “You made me take out the punch fountain.”

      He cocked his head. “You’re the one who tripped me in the first place.”

      “I didn’t even touch you!”

      “Wait a second,” Katie broke in. “That wedding was the most exciting thing this town has seen in the past three years. If you two call a truce, life’s going to be pretty boring around here. Who will Rebecca have to fight with?”

      Dear Reader,

      Welcome back to Dundee, Idaho, where in A Baby of Her Own (September 2002) Delaney and Conner finally worked out their differences. Now that the scandal involving “good girl” Delaney has died down, it’s time to mix things up again. And Delaney’s best friend, Rebecca, is the perfect woman to do that. She’s high-strung and unpredictable; in fact, you could say Rebecca’s middle name is “Trouble.” It’s going to take a strong hero to tame her. But I think she’s met her match in Josh. I hope so, at least. I fell in love with him myself!

      I always enjoy hearing from readers. Please feel free to contact me at P.O. Box 3781, Citrus Heights, CA 95611. Or simply log on to my Web site at www.novak.com to leave me an e-mail, check out future book signings, learn about my upcoming releases and win some fabulous prizes.

      Brenda Novak

      Brenda Novak

      A Husband of Her Own

      DEDICATION

      To my first son, Trey, who, at eight years old,

       already exhibits the dignity of a confident man. He is my anchor in the storm of life, holding fast, always at peace— an echo of my father. If you forget everything else I’ve ever taught you, Trey, remember this: my love is everlasting.

      ACKNOWLEDGMENT

      Thanks to Michael Star,

       www.AstrologyZine.com/attract-women-Scorpio.shtml for his astrology information and horoscopes.

      CONTENTS

      CHAPTER ONE

      CHAPTER TWO

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHAPTER FOUR

      CHAPTER FIVE

      CHAPTER SIX

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      CHAPTER NINE

      CHAPTER TEN

      CHAPTER ELEVEN

      CHAPTER TWELVE

      CHAPTER THIRTEEN

      CHAPTER FOURTEEN

      CHAPTER FIFTEEN

      CHAPTER SIXTEEN

      CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

      CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

      CHAPTER NINETEEN

      CHAPTER TWENTY

      CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

      CHAPTER ONE

      “YOU WANT TOWHAT?” Rebecca Wells pulled away from where she’d been leaning on her kitchen counter and clutched the telephone tightly, hoping she’d heard wrong the first time. She was supposed to be at work by nine, in twenty minutes, but this call took precedence over everything else.

      “I think we should wait until the end of January,” her fiancé, Buddy, responded. He sounded tentative, as though he feared she might not accept this news well. Probably because she’d lost her temper last time. He’d postponed the wedding twice already.

      “The end of January is almost four months away, Buddy,” she said, and was immediately proud of how calmly she’d spoken. Too bad Delaney had gotten married and wasn’t living with her anymore. Rebecca felt certain her best friend would have applauded her efforts.

      “That’s not so long, babe. What’re another few months? It won’t change anything in the long run, right?”

      Change anything! It would change everything. Rebecca had been counting the days until she could leave her small hometown behind. She wanted to move to Nebraska with Buddy so Mrs. Whipple couldn’t pass her on the street, shake her head and mumble, “Poor Mayor Wells. Who would’ve thought he’d get stuck with such a daughter?” So Mrs. Reese couldn’t frown disapprovingly as she sat in the beauty shop across from where Rebecca was working, recounting the occasion when Rebecca had purposely dyed her hair blue. So Delaney’s Aunt Millie couldn’t constantly remind her of the day she ran away with Johnny Red, the leader of a biker gang that had once passed through town.

      On second thought, being reminded of Johnny probably wouldn’t have bothered Rebecca. He’d been dangerous and reckless and incredibly sexy. Except he’d sent her packing in only three days—that was the humiliating part. Everyone in town had assumed even a man like Johnny Red couldn’t tame Rebecca Wells. They didn’t realize that next to Johnny, she looked like a saint.

      Stretching her neck to relieve some of the tension, she took a deep breath. She needed to loosen up or she was going to blow this conversation. The last time she’d let Buddy feel the full force of her disappointment, he hadn’t called for almost a week.

      “Now I’m going to have to explain to the whole town that I’m not getting married for my birthday, and I’m going to have to say it’s because your great-aunt can’t make it until after Christmas?” she said.

      A sense of accomplishment swept through Rebecca despite her dismay. She’d just managed another reasonable statement. She was doing amazingly well, considering her track record, but the strain was taking its toll. Just last week, she’d promised Delaney that she’d given up smoking for good. But a cigarette seemed almost imperative to her success here. If only she hadn’t destroyed every pack in the house in the fervor of her good intentions.

      “Are you saying that my great-aunt isn’t enough of a reason to hold off?” he asked. “She’s very important to me, Rebecca.”

      Rebecca had a few things to say about the relative importance of a great-aunt, but she bit them back. Opening the kitchen drawer that housed the Ziploc Baggies, aluminum foil and plastic wrap, she retrieved her nicotine patches and smoothed one on her arm. “They’ll think you’re getting cold feet,” she pointed out.

      “I’m not getting cold feet. We met only nine months ago. And we’ve seen each other in person…what? A handful of times? I think most people understand that a long-distance relationship sometimes develops a little more slowly.”

      Except their relationship hadn’t developed slowly. From almost the first moment they’d met on the Internet last January, they’d been talking about getting married. They’d grown close very quickly.

      Unfortunately, Rebecca was afraid their relationship might be fading just as fast. And she couldn’t figure out why. She knew she was a little temperamental, but it wasn’t as though


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