Tina Leonard - Special Order Groom

During all this nearly body-bruising physical maneuvering, somehow her eyes kept seeking out Mitch on the stool in the kitchen, keeping her mother company. She didn’t mean for her gaze to wander to him, but when she began to develop a headache from her body being moved one way while her eyes went another, she forced herself to quit surreptitiously glancing his way. Even though she told herself he didn’t notice her furtive assessment of him, her feelings were somehow hurt that he paid more attention to wheedling snacks out of her mother than to her. The way he’d kissed her had put zing into her heartbeat for the night. I’m still not over him, Crystal realized sadly.

It depressed her, all the more so because he never looked her way. Frankie slid his hand too near the curve of the wow!-red skirt, which fell in a pleat over her posterior so nicely. A seamstress like Crystal couldn’t fail to appreciate the craftsmanship of the dress, but she absentmindedly ground the red high heel Aunt Elle had insisted she wear onto his toe. He gasped in pain but she merely smiled, her expression innocent.

“Good thing there’s a doc in the house,” Frankie wheezed tightly.

Her smile evaporated. “You won’t need one if you stop trying to get into the end zone, Frankie.”

“Dang, Crystal, how can I help it when you’re just about the only unmarried woman in Lover’s Valley who doesn’t have horse teeth or a backside broad as a barn?”

“That’s not nice,” she reprimanded him. “For one thing, it’s a prejudicial view, and for another, all those women are high school acquaintances of ours and very sweet.”

“I know,” he grumbled. “But I don’t want to marry a gal who has a great personality. I want to marry a gal that looks like a firecracker in a red dress!”

She eyed him narrowly. If she looked like such a pyrotechnic explosive, why wasn’t Mitch blown away? “I think you should reconsider your play options.”

He looked at her earnestly. “Truly, Crystal, you’re the only woman in Lover’s Valley who is single of her own hardheaded choosing. And ain’t you ever heard heartbreak is attractive on a woman? Makes a guy just wanna cuddle her and hold her tight,” he said, crushing her to him, “and protect her from all the mean old tackles in life!”

She ground her teeth to hold back her reply while she counted slowly to ten, mentally composing herself. The gentler-version reply never formed in her mind as the room suddenly went silent except for the soft orchestral strains from the band.

Kathryn “the Prom Queen” Vincent walked into the great room. She was just as petite as ever, her smile still cheesily bright, ever the cheerleader. But the size of her stomach wasn’t hidden by the elegant black dress she wore.

She was heavily pregnant, and she was alone.

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