Do You Take This Baby?

by Wendy Warren

  “Maybe you’re not attracted to me,” he suggested, voice soft, seduction mode on. “Maybe the thought of marrying me is a turnoff.” He walked toward her, keeping his gaze locked with hers. He might not have confidence in his childcare skills or in the brain that too often let him down, but he was a sexy SOB, and he knew a thing or two about women—like the fact that this one was physically attracted to him and trying not to be.

  Unscrewing the glass jar in his hands, he picked out a marshmallow with his thumb and forefinger. Yep, he’d caught Gemma getting hot ’n’ bothered a couple of times since she’d moved in, and he’d wanted to do something about it—might have done something about it—if he didn’t like her so damn much. She was the marrying kind; he wasn’t. She’d been hurt already, and they were nowhere near right for each other. Plenty of reasons to keep his hands off. But he needed a wife, and she could get some mileage out of a marriage, too.

  “If we go into this with our eyes wide-open, it could work,” he said softly.

  She seemed to have trouble swallowing. “H-how? I’m not sure what you’re talking about. How long is this marriage supposed to last?”

  He’d thought about that, knowing how much he needed her, which was a helluva lot more than she needed him. He would never, ever be able to raise Cody alone. It wouldn’t be fair to the poor kid. It wouldn’t even be safe. The real question was how long before Gemma grew tired of the game? Aloud, he answered, “I don’t know. As long we both think it works for us, I suppose.”

  “It’s crazy. What happens if Samantha comes back and takes Cody? What if one of us meets someone?”

  “I won’t. I’ve never cheated on a woman, Gemma. I sure as hell won’t start with you.” He set the jar of marshmallows on the granite counter. “As far as Samantha...that’s a bridge we cross when we get there. She’s going to need a lot of help for a long time. Cody will still need us. We may have adopted by then, too.”

  “We? You’d be interested in more than one child...of your own?”

  “The idea is less alien than it used to be.” There it was again—the urge to smile despite all the what-ifs that hung in the balance.

  Gemma shook her head. “This is too much to take in. If we have children and the marriage ends...”

  “We wouldn’t be the first,” he allowed, though he didn’t want to put a child through a divorce, nor did he like the assumption that it would end. “I know you wanted to be married, have kids the normal way. But you yourself said you weren’t willing to wait to be married in order to have children. You were going to push ahead on your own. This is another option. You’re my friend, and I think you’re sexy as hell. Marriages have been built on less, I bet.”

  Her face flushed a deeper pink than her pajamas. A good sign? He found himself hoping so.

  “Think about it, will you, Gem?” He raised the marshmallow he’d plucked from the jar and brought it to her open lips. “What was it Scott and Elyse said at their wedding? ‘I promise not to let the sun set without telling you how lucky I feel to have you’? I can promise you that. And marshmallows. If you say yes, I promise never, ever to make you go without marshmallows.”

  Before she could say yea or nay, he popped the treat in her mouth, following it with a kiss he intended to be as light and sweet as the candy. And it was. Until her arms went slack, and the blanket fell, and the temptation to make the kiss something more became too much for either of them to resist.

  He started it... He was pretty certain he started it. All Ethan knew for sure was that his hands were framing cheeks as soft and smooth as the petals of a rose and that he’d wanted to taste these lips for a lot longer than he’d ever be willing to admit.

  The kiss sent wave after wave of desire flooding through his body. Even though Ethan was no stranger to foreplay (although he was less prolific than the media made him out to be), he almost lost control when he felt her hands traveling up his back...then clutching his shirt.

  He pulled her against him, wanting to feel the body he’d tried not even to wonder about for the past fifteen years. And it felt... Damn. If he moved one hand to the front of her body, he could explore her breasts; the other hand could slide to her butt and—

  Whoa! She went there first, to his butt. The action seemed to surprise her as much as it did him. Letting go, she jumped back as if she’d suddenly awoken from a spell.

  They stared at each other. Ethan realized he had one hand out, as if he wanted to pull her back, and let it fall to his side.

  Her face looked...kissed. She was breathing heavily. He didn’t know if she was going to kiss him again or run as fast and as far as she could.

  “Gemma,” he said, hoping to steady her, positive of only one thing in this moment—that he couldn’t let her go. “Please. Marry me.”

  * * *

  “I still think you need to have your head examined.” Standing behind Gemma, twisting her friend’s heavy locks of hair into an intricate updo, Holliday spoke her mind—for the umpteenth time since Gemma had announced she was going to marry Ethan. “Seriously. If there’s a Groupon for psych evaluations, I’m buying you one.”

  Handing her friend a bobby pin from the small collection on the vanity she was seated in front of, Gemma smiled, the very picture, she hoped, of equanimity. “That’s not a nice thing to say to someone on her wedding day,” she responded without a trace of resentment.

  Seventeen days ago, Ethan had proposed to her. Twice. Once before The Kiss and once after. Holliday was the first person Gemma had told, partly because she’d wanted to be completely honest with someone and partly because she’d wanted to practice saying, “Ethan and I are getting married,” with a big, confident smile before she told her family.

  “Ouch!” Gemma exclaimed when her friend stabbed her with a bobby pin. “If you’re upset about the wedding, use words. My scalp is just an innocent bystander here.”

  “Sorry.” Contritely, Holliday patted Gemma’s head. “I’m not upset about your wedding. I’m upset about your wedding night. Explain one more time, please, why you are not consummating this marriage, which might—only might, mind you—make the idea of getting married for the baby’s sake a bit more palatable.”

  “We’re having a probationary period,” Gemma told her friend again. “No sex for three months while we focus on Cody’s needs, and I look into adoption. This way we can make decisions about all our futures without unnecessary entanglements.”

  “Sleeping with your husband is an unnecessary entanglement?”

  “This isn’t a normal marriage.”

  “I’ll say,” Holliday muttered, her expression a cross between you need more therapy than I thought and whatever.

  S’okay, maybe Gemma hadn’t been 100 percent honest with Holliday when she’d explained her reasons for putting restrictions on her marriage. She’d omitted her number one fear: that she was falling in love with Ethan.

  She’d probably sort of almost known it already, but after that kiss—awww, that kiss—she’d become really concerned, and that meant she had to protect herself from heartbreak. And that meant no sex until she had reason to believe their relationship might actually go the distance.

  “Uhm, Holl?” Gemma ventured as the redhead wound her hair still tighter around the barrel of the curling iron. “Could you relax or put down the curling iron, because I’m afraid you’re going to singe me.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” Dressed for the wedding in a vintage fifties floral cap-sleeve wiggle dress with bright red pumps and matching fire-engine lipstick, Holliday sighed loudly. “I can’t believe Ethan agreed to your terms.”

  Well, he hadn’t been wild about her terms. She’d had to make it clear—before she could change her mind and jump his bones right there in the kitchen—that there could be no kissing. Awww, that kiss! Under the spell of his lips moving slowly, sensuously over hers, she’d lost all sense of
time and place. Never before had she been swept into such pure sensation. For several magical seconds, she’d had no idea where Ethan ended and she began. If someone had told her to describe the difference between lust and love in that moment, she wouldn’t have been able to do it to save her life.

  Which was why she’d slapped some rules on herself.

  “This marriage has to have parameters,” she told Holliday—and herself. “Guidelines.”

  “Yes, I’m familiar with the concept of parameters. Contrary to local rumor.” The flamboyant redhead arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Why ninety days? That’s so looong.”

  Gemma chewed the inside of her lip. Why? Because if her marriage imploded over the summer—for any one of a thousand plausible reasons—then she could jump back into school to save her sanity. And because it was the first thing that came to mind when she was trying to convince Ethan that a moratorium was not personal; it was a commonsense way to simplify a complex situation.

  “Ethan understands.” Sort of. “He agrees.” Kinda.

  Three brisk raps on the door provided an interruption, and Gemma signaled Holliday that they needed to cut this convo short. “Remember,” she whispered, “my family thinks this marriage is the real deal, and that’s the way it’s got to stay, or I’ll never hear the end of it.” She and Ethan were under enough pressure.

  Holliday wagged her head. “You Goulds watch too much reality TV.”

  The door opened. “We’re here!” Minna sang. It had earlier been decided that the women would get dressed together.

  Plastic garment bags rustled as Lucy followed Minna, who had entered with a snoozing Cody in her arms. Placing the baby in the middle of the queen-size bed, Minna directed Lucy to hang the garment bags over a hook on the back of the guest room door. “Where’s Elyse?” her mother asked, glancing around.

  “I thought she’d be with you,” Gemma replied. The sudden flurry of activity was making everything seem more real, and blood roared in her ears. Only four weeks ago, she had attended her sister’s wedding. Now she was having one of her own.

  “You’re doing a lovely job with her hair, Holliday,” Minna complimented as she began to rearrange some of the strands. “Where is your dress, sweetie?”

  Gemma pointed to the closet. While Minna fetched the tea-length gown, Lucy uncapped a mascara and helped herself to a section of the mirror. “I think Elyse is concerned,” she ventured uneasily, keeping her eyes on her own reflection and giving the impression she was about to throw a wet blanket over the party.

  “Concerned about what?” Minna asked as she removed Gemma’s frothy crinoline petticoat from its hanger. “Stand up, honey,” she ordered, preparing to slip the undergarment over the bride-to-be’s head.

  Gemma complied, lifting her arms to allow her mother to carefully ease the acreage of netting over her elaborate hairdo.

  “I think,” Lucy explained while coating her lashes, “Elyse may be concerned that Gemma is...settling by marrying Ethan.”

  Three pairs of eyes fastened on Lucy’s reflection. Three voices exclaimed, “Settling?”

  “‘Settling’ for Ethan Ladd?” Minna’s expression was almost comical. “Don’t talk silly. He was in People magazine.” She shook her head. “Honestly, the ideas you girls get sometimes. My bridge club will be green when they see pictures of this house.” Her voice became muffled as she encased Gemma’s head and her own in a cloud of rustling fabric. “Are any celebrities coming?”

  “No, Mom,” Gemma mumbled. Even though she and Ethan had agreed they needed to make the wedding seem as real as they could, they’d also agreed to keep it as simple as possible. Just family and close friends.

  Exasperated, Lucy jammed her mascara wand back into the tube. “Who cares if there are going to be celebrities there, Mom! Don’t you think—sorry, Gemmy, nothing personal here—that this is all just a bit sudden? I mean, they went from zero to sixty in less than ten. It’s unusual. That’s all.”

  “So?” Minna, who had shown nothing but joy over the new development in her eldest daughter’s life, rushed to the defense of the bride and groom. “They’ve known each other forever. This kind of thing happens all the time. Friendship turns to love. Look at Harry and Sally.” She tugged on the petticoat. “Suck in, Gemmy, I’m going to cinch the waist on this.”

  “Who are Harry and Sally?” Gemma asked, wondering if she’d attended their wedding.

  “She’s talking about the movie with Billy Crystal and Meg Ryan,” Lucy snapped. “They’re actors, Mom. It’s a story.”

  “Well, I know that.” Minna put her fists on her hips. “I also know that truth is stranger than fiction.” Her heels clicked on the hardwood floor as she marched across the bedroom to get Gemma’s wedding dress.

  “Gem,” Lucy said, “Elyse and I know how badly you’ve always wanted a family, but couldn’t you slow down a little?”

  “They aren’t getting married only because she wants a family,” Minna argued on her way back. “Not that it isn’t enough of a reason, dear,” she assured the bride. “Ethan is ready to get married, and he chose a hometown girl with a good head on her shoulders and a wonderful personality. And that’s it. Now let’s all speak pleasantly.”

  Lucy exhaled loudly and tossed her mascara onto the vanity. Holliday reached over to squeeze Gemma’s shoulder, and Gemma wondered whether the truth could be any worse than this...

  “Let’s get you in your dress,” Minna directed, settling the fifties-inspired sweetheart bodice and red-dotted skirt into place. “Suck it in one last time while I zip you up.”

  Once Gemma was tightly ensconced, her mother fluffed and smoothed and tweaked, then took a step back. “You know—” Minna’s smile was wobbly “—I wasn’t too sure about this dress when you bought it. But, honey—” she waggled her fingers for Lucy to hand her a tissue from the dressing table “—you look absolutely beautiful. Radiant.” She dabbed beneath her eyes.

  Lucy moved to Holliday’s side, and Gemma watched their concern transform into smiles now, too. “You really do look perfect,” Lucy said as Holliday nodded in agreement, and they all snatched a tissue from the box. “I’m sorry I put a damper on things,” Lucy sniffled. “If this is your happily-ever-after, I’m all for it.”

  “Thank you,” Gemma whispered, feeling tears rise in her own eyes. She’d never imagined her “happily-ever-after” beginning as a three-month trial marriage of convenience. She hadn’t imagined duping her own family. And she admitted, as the women led her to the cheval mirror standing in the corner, she was probably duping herself, too.

  Because the image that stared back at her looked every inch the smitten, hopeful bride.

  Chapter Ten

  “Dude. Stand still.”

  “Right. Like you’d stand there and let someone effectively choke you to death.” Ethan grimaced as Scott, his soon-to-be brother-in-law, helped him with his tie. They’d holed up in his bedroom for a celebratory glass of brandy and a cigar that remained unlit because Elyse had barged in and didn’t like the smell.

  “Yeah, well, as your best man, it’s my duty to make sure your tie stays on during the ceremony. Cut me some slack. Your neck belongs in the Redwood National Park. Elyse? Give me a hand here. My fingers are too big to get this collar button closed without cutting off his air supply.”

  Elyse, hair in rollers and still wearing a bathrobe, slid off Ethan’s bed and onto her feet. Ethan could feel the tension fairly radiating from her body as she approached.

  “You all right?” he asked as she reached for his throat.

  “Ethan. I realize you’re my husband’s best friend. And, at the moment, you are my sister’s fiancé. You also outweigh me by more than a hundred pounds.”

  Ethan frowned, glancing at Scott as Elyse took the loose ends of his bow tie into her fists and tugged. Eyes wide, Scott shrugged a
nd shook his head with a look that said, I have no idea.

  “However,” she continued, lifting herself onto the balls of her bare feet and skewering him with a menacing eye, “that will not stop me from removing your head from this beer keg you call a neck if you break my sister’s heart. William put her through hell last year. He lied to her. He cheated on her. He embarrassed her in front of her friends and coworkers. And—” her lips began to tremble, her eyes filling with sudden tears “—my sister is the sweetest, most loving, amazing, fun and funny, loyal person on the face of this earth and I love her with all my heart. So if you so much as look cross-eyed at her, I swear, you will have to—” she gave a watery hiccup “—deal...with me, Ethan Ladd!”

  As suddenly as she’d flared up, Elyse let go of his tie, buried her face in her hands and began to sob. Her forehead thudded against his chest. Awkwardly, Ethan patted her back and looked over her head at Scott. What the hell? he mouthed.

  To Elyse he said, “Uh, okay. Listen. I just want you to know that I’d never, ever, intentionally hurt your sister.”

  Help, he whispered to Scott who stepped to his wife’s side and took her into his arms.

  “Hey, now, sweetheart,” Scott murmured while he rocked Elyse, attempting to stroke her head over the huge, juice-can-sized rollers. “Don’t you think you’re being just a little bit tough on Ethan? After all, it is his wedding day.”

  “No, Scott!” Elyse blubbered into his shirt. “Gemma has been hurt enough already. By me, too! I made a big deal about That’s My Gown! and I sh-sh-shouldn’t have.”

  “Honey, Gemma’s a strong woman. She’s fine. And she’s happy now...so you should be happy for her. Right? C’mon, now. Shh...shh...shh,” Scott soothed and cajoled and then looked at Ethan in apology. “Sorry about this, buddy. She’s a little hormonal.”

  Ethan winced at the ceiling. “Too much info, man.”

  Scott laughed. “No, I mean...she’s pregnant.”

  “Already?” Surprised, Ethan stared at them, instantly worried about how this would affect Gemma. First, her younger sister gets married and then, right away, she’s pregnant. It would be a blow. “Does Gemma know?”