In Name Only. Peggy Moreland
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was trying to do.
“Damn,” he swore under his breath. He grabbed his hat and rammed it on his head and pushed himself from the booth. Digging his wallet from his back pocket, he pulled out a twenty and tossed it on the table. “Much obliged,” he called to the waitress and waved to her as he pushed through the door.
When he reached Shelby’s car, he grabbed the door handle and swore again when he discovered it was locked. He slammed a fist against the window. “Open up,” he ordered angrily.
She turned her tear-streaked face to glare up at him. “Go away,” she sobbed, and buried her face against her hands again.
Troy pounded his fist on the glass. “Either you open the door or I’m busting out the glass. Your choice.”
Her face twisted with fury, she sat up and rolled down the window. “Say what you have to say, then leave,” she ordered tersely. “This isn’t your problem.”
Scowling, he reached inside and unlocked the door himself. “I don’t think you want what I have to say broadcast all over the parking lot.” He bumped his hip against her side, forcing her to scoot over. “And no, it’s not my problem,” he said as he sat down on the seat still warm from her bottom. He felt around for the release and shoved the seat back, giving him room to stretch out his long legs. He slammed the door with the same degree of frustration as she had, then twisted around on the seat to face her. The fact that she shrank away from him, didn’t go unnoticed. It even shamed him a bit to see a woman cower from him. “How much?”
Startled, she stammered, “W-what?”
“How much?” he repeated angrily. “How much are you willing to pay me for my name?”
Slowly she sat up straighter, her gaze fixed on his face. “Five thousand dollars.”
“And how long do we have to stay married?”
“Until the baby’s born.”
“When’s it due?”
“The fifth of March. I’m three months along.”
Amazed, he glanced down at her stomach where she’d unconsciously pressed a hand, then slowly lifted his gaze to hers again. “But you’re not even showing.”
She dipped her chin and smoothed a hand across her abdomen. “No. Thankfully. But I will be before long.”
Setting his jaw, he frowned at her. “What would be expected of me?”
“Nothing,” she assured him quickly, then caught her lip between her teeth as if catching herself in a lie. “Well, I do need you to do one thing.”
“What?”
“Go home with me and meet my parents. Otherwise,” she hurried to explain, “they might not believe I’m really married.”
Troy groaned and slumped down in the seat. “I have to meet your parents?” He rolled his head to the side to look at her. “Couldn’t you just show them the marriage license?”
She clamped her lips together, frowning. “No, I can’t just show them the marriage license,” she mimicked sarcastically. “My father is going to be angry enough that we didn’t marry in the church. He is the pastor, after all, and—”
Troy snapped up his head. “The pastor!” he shouted. “Your daddy is a preacher?”
She gulped and shrank away from him, nodding.
Troy dropped his head back and groaned. “A preacher,” he repeated miserably. “Pete and Clayton are never going to believe this. Hell, I’m not even sure I believe it myself!” Sighing, he turned his face to the side window and stared out at the darkness beyond. From the far side of the parking lot, a pair of green eyes peered back at him.
The black cat.
Maybe I should’ve turned around and headed the other way, he thought miserably.
But it was too late now. Seemed he’d just agreed to sell his name to a pregnant preacher’s daughter to the tune of five thousand dollars.
Two
Though it was almost dawn and the sky still clung to the colors of midnight, the street Troy drove his truck down was bright as midday.
Las Vegas.
He gave his head a shake, then angled it a bit to steal a glance at the woman who slept in the passenger seat beside him. She sat with her head tipped against the window, her bare feet tucked up underneath her and hidden by her full, broomstick skirt. She looked so innocent in sleep, like an angel, even more so than when she was awake, which was pretty darn angelic in Troy’s estimation. Something told him, though, that this little angel’s preacher-daddy wasn’t going to think too highly of a Las Vegas wedding for his daughter.
With another shake of his head, he turned his face to the windshield again and the street beyond. “Shelby?” he called softly, not wanting to startle her.
She shifted, snuggling a hand beneath her cheek, and a bare toe slipped from beneath the folds of her skirt, its nail painted a soft, shell-pink. As he watched, the toe curled as if inviting his touch.
Finding the sight oddly arousing—and himself more than a little tempted to accept the invitation and stroke a hand along that foot and up the smooth, bare leg beneath the skirt—he set his jaw and forced his gaze away. Clearing his throat, he tried not to think about that bare toe, or the stretch of leg attached to it, and attempted again to rouse her. “Shelby?”
“Hmmm?” she hummed sleepily.
“Better wake up. We’re here.”
Instantly alert, she straightened, slowly unwinding her legs and slipping her feet gracefully to the floor. Brushing her hair back from her face, she leaned forward to peer through the windshield. Her eyes grew wide at the sight that greeted her.
“Oh, my stars,” she murmured, darting her eyes from one side of the street to the other, where elaborately designed hotels and brightly lit casinos seemed to mushroom from the very edge of the sidewalk and shoot straight up to the sky. A billboard at the intersection they approached pictured a woman on a swing inside a gilded cage, wearing nothing but feathers and spangles.
“Did you see that?” she whispered on a long, disbelieving breath. As they passed through the intersection, she twisted her head around, keeping her gaze riveted on the scantily clad woman pictured on the massive billboard.
“Ever been to Las Vegas before?” Troy asked, unable to suppress the smile her shocked expression drew.
“No,” she said and turned to look at him, her eyes wide, her cheeks flushed.
“Welcome to the den of iniquity,” he said, waving an expansive hand at the view before them.
She sank back against the seat and swallowed hard, staring. “Is it always like this?” she murmured.
“Like what?”
“So…so full of life,” she said, gesturing helplessly to the people who crowded the sidewalks.
“Yep. Nobody sleeps in Las Vegas. It’s one of the unwritten rules.” Realizing that he had no idea where he was headed, Troy steered the truck onto a side street beside a hotel’s entrance and stopped.
She peered through the window at the hotel’s revolving door, then turned slowly to look at him. “Why are you stopping here?”
He saw the suspicion in her eyes, heard it in her voice, and snorted, pulling on the emergency brake before killing the engine. “’Cause I don’t know where we’re going, that’s why,” he reminded her. “Do you?”
She turned to peer through the window again at the hotel beyond. “No,” she said, her nervousness obvious. “But I’d think we’d need to find a chapel or something, wouldn’t we?