Debbie Macomber - The Manning Brides - Marriage of Inconvenience / Stand-In Wife

“Not telling you?”

“Yeah. There’s something on your mind.”

“I’ll tell you what’s on my mind,” Rich said, picking up his beer. “Football. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re down by seven points and Green Bay’s got the ball on the fifteen-yard line.” He laughed, but his brother didn’t.

“You’re sure?” Jason asked a few minutes later. “The score’s the only thing bothering you?”

“Positive,” Rich assured him, feigning a smile. A man didn’t tell his older brother, especially one who assumed women flocked to him, that he was thinking about becoming a sperm donor.

Six days had passed, and if Rich didn’t call her soon, Jamie was convinced she’d have a nervous breakdown. Every time the phone rang, her heart shot to her throat and she started to tremble like an October leaf.

Rich had made a point of saying he’d be the one to call her, and he’d promised to do so within a week’s time. Nevertheless, the wait was killing her, and each day that passed seemed to increase her anxiety.

She’d just put a casserole in the oven when the doorbell chimed. Jamie’s gaze flew apprehensively toward the door. Even before she answered it, she knew it was Rich.

Inhaling a deep breath, she walked unsteadily across the carpet and opened the door.

“Hello, Jamie.”

“Hi, Rich.”

His eyes refused to meet hers, and her stomach twisted into a tight knot as he entered her home. He removed his coat and hung it in the closet as though he intended to stay for a while. Jamie didn’t know whether she should take encouragement from that or not.

“Dinner’s in the oven. Will you join me?”

He nodded, although she suspected he hadn’t heard what she’d said.

“It’s a new recipe…. I seem to be in a cooking mode lately. Tamale pie—I found the recipe on the back of a cornmeal box. I’ve always liked Mexican food.”

“Me, too.”

“Would you care for some coffee?”

“Sure.”

He followed her into the kitchen and sat down at the table. “I suppose you’re wondering what I’ve decided,” he said when she brought him his coffee.

It was all she could do not to demand he tell her right then and there. Waiting even one more minute seemed too long. She pulled out the chair across from him and sat down. She was so anxious, her hands were trembling and she clasped them in her lap, not wanting to give herself away.

“I’ve done a lot of thinking since the last time we spoke,” he began.

If the lines around his eyes and mouth were any indication, his thoughts had been serious indeed. It didn’t look as though he’d slept much in the past week. For that matter, neither had she.

“I’m sure it hasn’t been an easy decision.”

“No, it hasn’t,” he said pointedly. “Before I say anything else, there are a few things I’d like to get straight. Once I do, you may change your mind.”

“I’m not going to do that,” Jamie said confidently.

His eyes held hers. “Don’t be so sure. First and foremost, I want full parental privileges. This child will be as much a part of me as he or she is of you.” He spoke forcefully, as though he anticipated an argument.

“What … what exactly do you mean by parental privileges?”

“I want a say in how the child will be raised, as much of a say as you. That means when it comes time to choose a preschool, I’ll expect you to confer with me. I don’t want you moving out of the area, either. At least not without me being informed and in full agreement, but I can tell you right now, I won’t agree.”

“Okay,” she said hesitantly. The only reason she’d even brought up the subject of moving was to simplify the situation for him. It wasn’t what she wanted at all. “Anything else?”

“I’m just getting started. If we go ahead with this, I want visitation rights.”

“Of course. I have no intention of hiding the child from you.”

“That’s not what I understood earlier,” he said, frowning.

“I … know. I should have thought this through more carefully before I approached you. I’d come up with the idea of you being the baby’s father the same night I talked to you. When I showed up at your place, the idea was only half formed.”

Rich seemed cold and distant. It was almost as if they were negotiating something highly controversial and there was no room for friendliness. No room for personal feelings.

“Does that mean you’ve changed your mind?” he asked.

“No … no, just that I hadn’t worked everything out as extensively as I should have before I came to you. It hadn’t dawned on me that you’d care one way or the other about the child. I realize now how insensitive that was of me. I apologize for that, Rich, I really do.”

“Of course I’d care about the child!”

“I know. If you want full visitation rights, and a say in how the child’s brought up, then that’s only fair. I have no objections. None whatsoever.”

“I’m also going to insist you accept child support.”

“But, Rich, that really isn’t necessary. I make a decent wage and—” She stopped abruptly at the way his eyes hardened.

“Then the deal’s off.”

She took a moment to compose herself. “Since that’s clearly an important issue to you,” she said carefully. “I’ll be willing to accept whatever monetary support you deem necessary.”

“Emotional support, as well. I don’t want you walking the floors at night with a colicky baby.”

“What do you expect me to do?”

“Phone me.”

He was making everything so much more complicated than it needed to be. “You don’t expect me to call you over every little thing, do you?”

“Yes,” he said emphatically. “I want all the arrangements between us clear as glass before the blessed event. We’ll share the responsibilities.”

When she didn’t respond, he asked, “Having second thoughts yet?”

“Not … really. Is this everything?”

“It isn’t.” He stood and opened the oven, checking the casserole that was baking inside. He let the door close slowly.

“You mean there’s more?”

“One small item.”

“One small item,” Jamie repeated, assuming she wouldn’t have any more trouble with this than his other demands.

“If we do decide to go ahead and have a child together …”

“And I think we should,” she said, smiling over at him.

“Fine. Great. Wonderful. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

“Good. In that case, I insist we get married.”

Jamie was too confused to think clearly. Surely Rich didn’t mean what he’d just said. It made no sense. “Married … but … you can’t be serious.”

“I’ve rarely been more serious in my life,” Rich answered, stalking to the far side of her kitchen. He removed two dinner plates from her cupboard and set them on the table. “Naturally, this wouldn’t be a conventional marriage.”

“Naturally,” Jamie echoed, still too bewildered to understand his reasoning. “Then … why are you insisting on a wedding?”

“I want the child to have my name. I don’t care if that no longer matters to most people. It matters to me.”

“Oh.”

“We’ll continue to maintain our separate residences. For all intents and purposes, nothing will change, at least not outwardly. Except that we’ll be sharing the care and custody of a child.”

Jamie stood in front of the silverware drawer and closed her eyes, trying to force her heart to stop pounding so hard. Rich had made it plain this wasn’t any love match—not that she’d ever suspected it would be. Nevertheless, her heart had reacted fiercely to his insistence on a wedding. Because she couldn’t help associating marriage with love, despite a great deal of evidence to the contrary.