Ruth Jean Dale - Fiance Wanted

He lifted his head and he was breathing hard. “She’s gone,” he said in a voice that came out a little husky. “For a woman who doesn’t like kissing without emotional content, you’re damned good.”

Releasing her, he unlocked the cab of the pickup, opened the door and lifted her onto the high seat. This time when he grinned, the lamp illuminated his devilish expression clearly.

“Just for the record,” he said, “it was not like kissing my sister.”

To that, she had no response.

At the newspaper office Monday, Katy was met with smiles by everyone she met, up to and including her boss, John Reynolds, owner, publisher and editor of the Rawhide Review and the grandfather of Laura’s husband, Matt.

“Hear you got yourself a new beau,” he said cheerfully. “That Dylan Cole is a fine man. You could do worse, Katy.”

Katy felt her cheeks flame with embarrassed dismay. “What are you talking about?” she demanded. “All I did was go to happy hour with the man and you’re turning it into a lifetime commit—” She caught herself up short. That was exactly what they wanted everyone in town to believe, she remembered belatedly.

“Don’t bite my head off,” John said. “All I know is what a little birdie told me.”

Yeah, Katy thought, a little birdie named Brandee. John Reynolds had the best network of contacts she’d ever seen. Heaven help her if she tried to put anything over on him.

By lunchtime, she was running scared; everyone she met looked at her with that speculative little gleam in their eyes. Hoping for sanctuary, she called Laura and wrangled an invitation to lunch.

“I don’t think I realized what I was letting myself in for with this crazy scheme,” Katy complained, reaching for the tuna salad sandwich Laura had placed before her. “This town has the healthiest grapevine I’ve ever seen or heard tell of.”

“You should have known,” Laura said serenely, taking her seat. “You remember all the gossip when Matt and I were just starting to get together? I seem to recall someone explaining to me that they meant well, so I shouldn’t let it bother me.”

“Sounded good when I said it,” Katy agreed dourly. “But this is happening a lot faster than I ever expected. I thought it would take us at least a few weeks of being seen together before anybody believed us.”

“Maybe the sight of the two of you making out in the parking lot at the Painted Pony speeded things up.”

Katy’s jaw dropped. “We were not making out!”

“Hugging, kissing—most people would call that making out.”

“Well, it wasn’t.” Distracted, Katy dropped her sandwich back on the plate, appetite gone.

“What was it, then?” Laura prodded.

“Just two people pretending.”

“Pretending.” Laura cocked her head, a question on her face. “So how was it?”

“Laura! I’m shocked you’d ask me a question like that.” And shocked at the wave of heat in her own cheeks.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” Laura’s smile was devilish. “It’s just that you seem to need some sage advice and all I have is curiosity, just like everyone else.”

Jessica trotted into the kitchen with her younger brother at her heels. “What’s sage?” she asked. “I already know about advice.”

“Sage advice,” her mother said, “is very wise advice. That’s what Aunt Katy needs right now. Unfortunately, I’m all out of it.”

Jessica grinned broadly. “I’ve got some sage advice,” she declared. Turning to Katy, she took her hands and peered deep into her eyes, radiating sincerity. “Aunt Katy, when you want sage advice, like, why don’t you just wave your magic wand? That’s what it’s for, to make things right. Right?”

“Right!”

Jessica gave her mother a triumphant glance and trotted on through to the yard. Zach followed without ever having said a word.

Katy looked helplessly at Laura. “Magic wand, right. But if I’m not mistaken, it was that darned magic wand that got me into this mess!”

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