The Last Bachelor. Judy Christenberry
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I can pay for it with my winnings.”
“I can pay for myself. I didn’t pay my share for dinner last night.”
Joe huffed. “I’m the husband. I’ll pay for our meals.”
“But that’s not fair. You’re helping me. You shouldn’t have to pay.”
He studied her clear eyes, her earnest expression. Crossing to her side, he took her shoulders in his hands. “Ginger, if we’re going to convince people that we are truly married, we’re going to have to act like it. I’ll pay for our living expenses. You’ll take care of cooking occasionally, cleaning a little. That’s how it works.”
“But—”
“No arguments.” With a sigh, he said firmly, “Honey, I’m an architect. I make a lot more money than you. I can afford to take care of you.” He turned her around to face the door. “Now, I want no more arguments about who’s going to pay. Let’s go get breakfast.”
By the time they’d had breakfast, packed up and got on the plane, Joe had a lot better picture of what he faced when he got his bride back to Mission Creek.
Heaven help him.
Three
Joe called his mother when they changed planes in San Antonio. They were only a short flight from Mission Creek.
“Mom, it’s Joe. Are you and Dad going to be home this evening?”
“Why, yes, dear. Where are you?”
“I’m in the San Antonio airport. I have someone I want you to meet. May we drop by in about an hour?”
“Of course. Will you have eaten?”
“No.”
“I’ll have some food ready. Is this a friend from Chicago?”
“No, it’s better than that, Mom. I’ll see you in an hour.”
He hung up the phone and found Ginger staring at him. “What is it? Why are you upset?”
“Why did you tell your mother?”
“Well, actually, I didn’t. We’re going to surprise her,” he said with a big grin. His family would definitely be surprised. And he would be relieved. He’d told his family he’d never met a woman he wanted to marry. The truth of the matter was, he didn’t think he’d ever want to risk his heart again. He’d been betrayed when he first fell in love, and it had become a habit to avoid commitment. But marrying Ginger wasn’t real. And she truly needed him.
“But I don’t think we should tell your mother,” Ginger said.
Joe sighed. “Remember we agreed to talk and act like we’re really married. We wouldn’t keep it secret. It’ll make my mother very happy, I assure you.”
“But she will be upset when we don’t stay married.”
Joe looked around to be sure no one important had overheard Ginger’s words. “Look, Ginger, you mustn’t say things like that.”
She covered her lips and looked around, too. “Joe, I don’t think we should’ve done this. I’m afraid you will get in trouble.”
Joe shook his head. “Too late. Come on, our plane is leaving.”
“But I’m very hungry,” she complained. “I can pay for—”
He swooped down and kissed her. Then, pretending touching her lips had been normal, he said, “No need. Mom is fixing a meal for us.”
Ginger wore a shocked expression on her face. He didn’t think the kiss would elicit that much of a surprise. But in the future he was going to have to be careful, because kissing her, he’d discovered, was a real pleasure. He leaned closer, drawing in her scent. “Remember, we’re married.”
He didn’t give her a chance to respond. He took her hand and led her to the gate where the small plane awaited.
Ginger sat quietly for the next forty-five minutes, greatly relieving Joe’s mind. Once they settled into a routine, things would be easier. But they weren’t there yet.
He’d left his car at the small airport. It took only a few minutes to reach it since their luggage was carry-on. Right on time, he pulled up to his parents’ house. All the cars parked in front told him his brothers and their families were there, too.
He had to warn Ginger, though he knew she wouldn’t like it. “Uh, Ginger, I think my entire family is here tonight. Remember we have to act like we’re married.”
“You have a big family?”
“I have four brothers. I told you they’re all married. Only one doesn’t have any children yet, but his wife is expecting in two months. Just be careful what you say.”
She nodded, though she tightened her lips and set her shoulders, as if she were about to face a hostile crowd.
“And try to look happy,” he added, thinking she might burst into tears at any moment.
They got out of the car and he came to her side. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, of course.”
When they reached the front door, he hugged her close. “Everything’s going to be great, honey.” He aimed a kiss for her cheek, but she turned to look at him and his lips landed on hers. The contact surprised both of them. On impulse he pressed his mouth against hers, encouraging her to open to him, as if they were lovers. Even more surprising, Ginger didn’t pull away. He pulled her closer, wanting more, and her arms wound around his neck.
He heard the front door open and his mother gasped several times. But he didn’t care. He was kissing his wife.
“Joe! Who is this?” his mother asked.
He released Ginger, his gaze still on her face. “This is my wife.”
Ginger found herself the center of attention, as questions flew fast and furious around her. Joe’s mother seemed happy, his father stared at her and the rest of the people, his brothers and their wives, wanted details.
“Where did you two meet?” one Turner wife asked.
Ginger replied, “At the country club.”
“Oh, are you a member, too? I haven’t seen you.”
“No, I’m not a member. I work there as a waitress.” Though she figured that would upset everyone, she couldn’t lie.
Another woman, who looked vaguely familiar, stepped forward. “Oh, you’re the waitress who’s so patient with the children.”
“You’re right,” another woman said, then turned to Ginger. “I remember you now. I’m Amy, Bill’s wife,” the woman said, holding out her hand.
As Ginger shook her hand, a man stepped up alongside Amy. “Hi, I’m Bill. I’m Joe’s oldest brother.”
Ginger nodded. She stared as the other brothers sorted themselves out and introduced themselves and their wives.
“What’s your last name?” someone asked.
She opened her mouth to say Walton when Joe intervened. “Turner, of course.”
Joe’s father, who introduced himself as Ed, stepped forward. “Welcome to the family, Ginger. You’re mighty pretty.”
“Th-thank you.”
His mother, Vivian, herded everyone to the dining room. “Come along now. I fixed a late dinner for these two and snacks for everyone.”
“Good. Ginger was starving in San Antonio. I know she’ll be glad to eat,” Joe said, beaming.
Actually, Ginger’s hunger had disappeared once she became the center of attention. But to be polite,