Least Likely To Wed. Judy Christenberry
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She scooped him into her arms and hugged him close. “You’re going to have a lot of fun, aren’t you?” she teased with a laugh, hoping her child didn’t notice the anxiety she was feeling about their separation.
“Of course he is,” Gil said as he came into the room, obviously having overheard her.
She sent him a grateful smile, appreciating his encouragement.
“Hey, I thought he was a baby,” another male voice exclaimed.
Kelly wheeled around to stare at Pete Crawford. She hadn’t realized he’d arrived. “He is a baby!” she exclaimed, irritated by his remark.
“He’s a growing boy,” Mary said tactfully.
“Okay,” Pete agreed, but his gaze was on Kelly. “Shall we go? The movie starts in fifteen minutes.”
Kelly handed her son to Lindsay, then gave the suitcase to Gil. “If you change your mind about Drew spending the night, just call me. I don’t mind coming to get him.”
“We’ll be fine,” Lindsay assured her. She left the apartment, Gil following in her wake.
Kelly followed them so she could see Drew. When she turned to go back inside the apartment, she found the other three adults right behind her. “Oh! Are you ready to go? I have to get my purse.”
“Here it is, dear,” Mary said, holding out the black leather bag Kelly usually carried.
“But I need to—to put on lipstick,” Kelly protested, hoping for a moment alone to collect herself.
“Put it on in the car,” Pete said and grabbed her arm to pull her after him. “I don’t want to miss the start of the show.”
With Rafe and her mother waiting, too, Kelly didn’t feel she had much choice. She accompanied her “date” down the stairs.
Pete drew a deep breath as Kelly slid into the front seat of his mother’s sedan. He’d been afraid she’d insist on the back seat with her mother. Not that he’d mind. He didn’t care where she rode, personally, but it wouldn’t convince anyone they were interested in each other.
He got behind the wheel as first Mary, then Rafe, got in the back seat. “All set?” he asked cheerfully, hoping to make everything seem normal.
“Sure,” Rafe returned.
In the rearview mirror, Pete saw Rafe help Mary with her seat belt. He checked to be sure Kelly had taken care of her own. The scent of her perfume drifted over to him. Her long dark hair seemed particularly enticing. When he’d seen her on Wednesday, it had been pulled back into a sedate braid.
“Uh, you’re wearing your hair down,” he muttered as he started the car.
She turned a startled gaze to him. “Does it matter?”
“No. It’s—it’s attractive.” Dammit, he hadn’t meant to say that.
“Compliments aren’t necessary, Pete,” she said in a low voice. “I agreed to do this. I keep my promises.”
Her attitude irritated him. She needn’t make it sound like an evening spent with him was torture. He glared at her.
“Anything wrong?” Rafe asked from the back seat.
“No,” Pete assured him. “I hope we like the movie. It sounds okay.”
Mary smiled. “It’s been so long since I’ve been to a movie, I’m sure I will enjoy it.” She smiled shyly at Rafe.
“I don’t go often, either,” Rafe assured her. “Mostly I like the popcorn.”
Mary beamed at him. “Oh, me, too!”
Well, at least someone was going to have fun tonight, Pete thought to himself. He eyed his date out of the corner of his eye. She was sitting stiffly, eyes straight ahead. He figured he could pelt her with popcorn and she wouldn’t notice.
There was a short line at the ticket box, and Pete figured standing in line would be a prime opportunity to make sure word got back to Sheila that he was “with” another woman.
“People are watching,” he whispered to Kelly after they got in line. Then he casually draped his arm across Kelly’s shoulders. She jerked away, then tried to relax. She even tried to smile. Pete hoped everyone else wouldn’t notice her reluctance. Seeking a distraction, he stared at the advertisement for an upcoming movie.
“Are you a Mel Gibson fan?” he asked, leaning closer to her.
“Um, he’s okay,” she replied, barely moving away.
“You’re supposed to act like you like my company,” he reminded her. “No one’s going to believe that if you keep acting like I have the plague.”
“I’m not acting like that!” she exclaimed even as she pulled back even more.
“Then why are you moving farther away?” he demanded.
“Because you’re crowding me!” she snapped.
Exasperated, he said, “Did you think we could convince anyone by standing five feet apart? People who are attracted to each other touch!”
“But—” she began in protest. She stopped as a couple walked by, then stopped and came back.
“Pete!” the man exclaimed, sticking out his hand to shake. “I didn’t see you for a minute. I thought you’d be with—”
The woman with him shoved her elbow into his ribs, stopping his words.
Pete knew his friend Mike was going to say Sheila. Her brassy blond hair drew the eye.
He nodded to the man’s wife. “Hi, Marge. Do you know Kelly Hampton? Kelly, this is Mike and Marge Poston. They have a place south of ours.”
“Oh, you’re partners with Lindsay at Oklahoma Chic, aren’t you? I’ve been hearing wonderful things about the store, even though I haven’t been in yet.”
Kelly thanked her for the compliment and started a conversation about fashion, leaving the men to talk alone.
“Sorry, Pete,” Mike said. “I didn’t mean to say the wrong thing. Have you and Sheila broken up? I heard you were pretty serious.”
“You probably heard that from Sheila. I think she’s ready to marry. That ticking-clock thing. But I’m a bachelor and I’m not wanting to change that fact.”
The women had stopped talking and were looking at him.
Marge turned back to Kelly. “I hope you realize you’re with a determined bachelor. I’ve overheard him say he never wanted kids, didn’t I, Pete?”
Kelly gave a determined smile. “We’re just seeing a movie tonight, not planning a lifetime.”
An awkward silence fell. Finally the couple said goodbye and got in line behind several other couples.
Mary leaned forward. “You don’t want any children?”
Pete hadn’t realized Mary and Rafe had overheard their conversation. “Uh, Mary, I’m a bachelor.”
“But—” Mary began.
“Mom, remember what we’re doing,” Kelly said softly. “We’re pretending, remember?”
“I know, but it seems such a shame.”
“Yeah,” Rafe agreed.
Pete frowned at his friend. What was wrong with everyone? The whole point of the evening was to keep from falling into that trap.
“Sir, how many?”
He’d been slowly moving in the line, but he hadn’t realized he’d reached the box office window. He turned around and asked for two tickets.
“What