“But I’m not making a decision for James. I’m letting him have what he truly wants. His freedom.”
“Oh? He proposed marriage to you and you turned him down because you think a wife and baby aren’t what he truly wants. So you made that decision for him.”
“Well, I...”
“Ginger, a wife and baby may not have been in James’s plans. But you and your baby are. The concept of responsibility and caring for a family seemed like something he’d had enough of. But when faced with the reality of a particular pregnant woman, he chose the family. He chose you.”
“Because he cares about me. Obligation is hardwired into him.”
Larilla shook her head. “Nope. Love is. Want to know something, Ginger? Seven years ago, when James’s father and stepmother died and he was left guardian of five grieving teenagers, I cared about him so much that I offered to take the quints in.”
Ginger gasped. “I had no idea.”
“He thanked me profusely and said he’d no doubt be leaning on me quite a bit. Then he said something I’ll never forget.”
“What did he say?” Ginger asked.
“He said, ‘The quints are my heart.’ And when he said that out loud, so definitively, something clicked for him. His fear about taking on such enormous responsibility became manageable. Because his priorities were in order, Ginger. First and foremost, above all else, the quints were his heart. So that won the day. And it was all that mattered.”
“But—”
“No buts, Ginger. Madame Davenport’s School of Etiquette would say the proper protocol in this situation is to speak to the gentleman in question.” She smiled and took Ginger’s hand, giving it a pat. “Go talk to James. And listen. Really listen to him.”
Hadn’t she herself told James when he needed to listen? Maybe now it was her turn to listen.
There was a knock at the door.
“Excuse me for a moment, dear,” Larilla said, going to the door and opening it. The chaise was against the wall behind the door, so whoever it was wouldn’t see Ginger’s tear-streaked, puffy face.
“Larilla,” she heard James say, “please tell me you know where Ginger is. I have to talk to her. It’s urgent.”
Larilla turned to Ginger and smiled, then back at James. “I know exactly where she is.”
* * *
His relief—that she hadn’t already fled town and changed her name, never to be found again—had James unable to speak or even catch his breath as he led Ginger upstairs to her room. She was right here, inches from him, and he was never letting her go again.
“So I ran into Tyler a bit earlier,” he said as they went inside her room. Ginger shut the door behind them. “He was sitting in McCann’s, drowning his sorrows at the bar. Boy, was I surprised when he started crying over a woman named Haley.”
Ginger sat down on the edge of her bed. “I thought I had to let you go, James.”
He sat down beside her and took her hands in his. “If I have to spend the next seventy years convincing you that I want this—you and me and Bluebell—I will. Because the two of you are everything, Ginger. You and Bluebell are my heart.”
He could see tears glistening in her eyes. But she didn’t say anything.
“I thought I wanted freedom, Ginger. But all I really want is you. And Bluebell.” He untangled one of his hands and placed it on her belly. “This baby already feels like mine. I am Bluebell’s father. There is nothing I’ll ever want more than the two of you beside me.”
She flung herself into his arms and he held her, one hand caressing her hair, the other keeping her against him.
“Does that mean you finally believe me?” he asked.
“Larilla talked some sense into me. So yes.”
“Well, I did spend our entire relationship telling you I didn’t want a wife and child for ten more years, so I get it.” He reached up and touched her face. “I’m so sorry for how much I hurt you, Ginger.”
“Eh,” she said, waving a hand. “Old news. I’m sorry I lied about Tyler. I hope he’s going to be okay. Poor guy.”
“I told him I’d been there, done that until I met the woman of my dreams and now I can’t even remember my ex’s name. That perked him up.”
“Whodathunk a month ago that Ginger O’Leary would be the woman of James Gallagher’s dreams?” she asked with a grin.
“You know who knew? Larilla Davenport, that’s who. No doubt she saw this a mile away.”
Ginger laughed. “Yeah, probably. She had you pegged. You liked me even when I had a face caked with makeup and tiny tops covered in rhinestones. You saw me, James. You always saw me.”
He nodded. “And I love you. Very much. I always will, no matter what you look like.”
“I love you too, James. With everything I am.”
He pulled her against him again and held on to her. But then he realized he had a ring burning a hole in his pocket and a marriage proposal to remake.
He got up and dropped to one knee, holding out the open ring box. “Take two,” he said. “Ginger O’Leary, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
“Hell yeah, I will,” she said with a grin.
He took the ring and slid it onto her finger. “I have a really good idea. Let’s get married right away. Like, this weekend.”
“In Larilla’s garden,” she said. “And a two-month honeymoon around the world sounds awesome. Bluebell can’t wait to try paella in Spain and linguine in Rome and ramen in Japan and—”
“I was planning on staying put,” he said. “I don’t need to see the world when I have the world in you, Ginger.”
“Are you trying to make my waterproof mascara streak down my face?” she asked, her eyes glistening with tears again. “Jeez. But, of course, you’re going to see the world. Bluebell and I are coming with you. I even have a current passport. I always figured I’d use it someday.”
Everything inside him felt lit and zinging like a pinball machine. “That would make me incredibly happy. And your doc will be okay with it? We can double-check before we start booking your tickets.”
“James, I’m only three months along. We’ll be long back before I’m on the be-careful track. So, world, here we come.”
He grinned and kissed her. “So I get to see the world with the love of my life, then I get to come home and await the birth of our baby. Oh, and while we’re waiting, we’ll go house hunting for the perfect home for three of us. Sound good?”
“Sounds like a dream,” she said. “It really does.”
“To me too. How did I get so lucky?”
“Howdya like to get lucky right now?” she asked, giving her shoulders an exaggerated shimmy.
“You can take the girl out of the Ginger, but not the Ginger out of the girl,” he said, whipping off his T-shirt.
“That makes absolutely no sense,” she said on a laugh.
“As if I can think straight when I’m finally about to make love to my beautiful, sexy, amazing fiancée?” he commented as his jeans joined hers on the floor.
And then they were much too busy to talk any more.
Epilogue
The wedding wasn’t that weekend. Not when Ginger ended up having so many bridesmaids who needed more than a few days’ notice. So they’d waited until the following weekend, which worked even better because then they would leave for Paris the next day.
Ginger had asked her two close friends from Busty’s—Desiree and Jilly—and her former manager, Coco, who’d hooked her up with Madame Davenport’s School of Etiquette in the first place, to be bridesmaids. And Josie, Amelia and Merry, of course. And there was no way she wasn’t asking Sandrine and Karly. She’d asked Madame to both be her maid of honor and give her away, and Larilla had tearfully accepted.
Now, with the ceremony just minutes away, Ginger looked at herself in the full-length f
loor mirror in the first-floor guest room, which had been turned into her bridal prep room. Her wedding gown was so beautiful that Ginger never wanted to take it off. Not even for her wedding night. But because it was to her ankles and very formfitting, there would be no way to have a wedding night with the gown on. The Gallagher sisters had gone bridal shopping with her, and they hit all the bridal shops in a three-hour radius. She’d found the dress of her dreams in a bridal shop in nearby Brewer. There it had been, hanging in the window. It was strapless white satin and very glam, with a row of beads at the empire waist. Simple but sexy. And now she would be wearing it to marry the man she loved.
Ginger’s mother had once bought her a tiara as a gag gift when she was a teenager and getting a little princessy in attitude, and it was now her headpiece, so she had something old and her mama with her today.
“You look absolutely beautiful,” Larilla said. “And it’s exactly five o’clock. The procession is about to begin.”
“We’re ready,” Amelia called from where the bridesmaids clustered at the door. The French doors to the garden were just across the hall.
Ginger glanced at Desiree and Jilly in their tiny, sexy blue dresses—that was the only bridal party directive—blue. Coco, who’d been beside herself with pride and happiness for what she’d had a part in making happen, wore a one-shouldered periwinkle gown with a thigh-high slit. Ginger loved seeing her old and new worlds commingling.
And then finally it was time. The wedding march began, and Larilla took her arm and led her down the white-carpet aisle to where James stood under a gorgeous arbor that Larilla had had constructed for them. To his side were his groomsmen, which included his two brothers. Eli and Anders looked a lot alike, with the same sandy blond hair and pale brown eyes as their sisters had. James’s high school and college friends rounded out the handsome lineup in their suits. According to Larilla, there was already lots of flirtation among the wedding party.
Ginger didn’t have all that many people to invite—her bridesmaids were her crew, and that was about it. But all these people sitting on the white wooden chairs in Larilla’s garden, from the community, would soon become part of her life. They were James’s clients, old family friends and current friends. Tomorrow, she and James would be leaving on their world tour, and as he’d said, she already felt like she had the whole world right here.
As she passed Tyler on the aisle seat and gave him a smile, she noticed he had eyes for only one woman, standing alongside the stunning arbor: Jilly, her bridesmaid who worked at Busty’s. No surprise there, given Jilly’s teensy blue bandage dress, big hair and dangling rhinestone earrings to her bare shoulders. Jilly was a total sweetheart. Ginger grinned, thinking about how right those two might be for each other. Her former coworker had recently gotten her heart smashed and had vowed to find a standup guy. And Tyler clearly had a thing for a certain look and was a good match for Jilly personality-wise. Jilly would steal his heart in no time. Then it would be “Haley who?”
Arms linked, Larilla led Ginger down the aisle to her waiting groom, and James looked so handsome in his tux that Ginger could have let out a wolf whistle. She didn’t, but she wanted to.
You look incredibly beautiful, James mouthed to her.
You too, she mouthed back.
The minister spoke of love and commitment, of forever, and Ginger almost couldn’t believe this wasn’t a dream. She was really here, marrying the man she loved so much.
And then on this beautiful early-June afternoon, Ginger O’Leary married James Gallagher, Bluebell giving a little kick in celebration just as the minister announced it was time for the groom to kiss his bride.
* * *
Keep an eye out for Melissa Senate’s next
Wyoming Multiples book,
available in July 2019!
And catch up on these previous books in the series:
The Baby Switch
Detective Barelli’s Legendary Triplets
Wyoming Christmas Surprise
Available now from Harlequin Special Edition!
Keep reading for an excerpt from An Unexpected Partnership by Teresa Southwick.
Join Harlequin My Rewards today and earn a FREE ebook!
Click here to Join Harlequin My Rewards
http://www.harlequin.com/myrewards.html?mt=loyalty&cmpid=EBOOBPBPA201602010003
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Special Edition story.
You know that romance is for life. Harlequin Special Edition stories show that every chapter in a relationship has its challenges and delights and that love can be renewed with each turn of the page.
Enjoy six new stories from Harlequin Special Edition every month!
Visit Harlequin.com to find your next great read.
Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!
Other ways to keep in touch:
Harlequin.com/newsletters
Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks
Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks
HarlequinBlog.com
Join Harlequin My Rewards and reward the book lover in you!
Earn points for every Harlequin print and ebook you buy, wherever and whenever you shop.
Turn your points into FREE BOOKS of your choice
OR
EXCLUSIVE GIFTS from your favorite authors or series.
Click here to join for FREE
Or visit us online to register at
www.HarlequinMyRewards.com
Harlequin My Rewards is a free program (no fees) without any commitments or obligations.
An Unexpected Partnership
by Teresa Southwick
Chapter One
Tess Morrow needed to cry.
Grief had been trapped in her chest all day, and the pressure to let it go grew more painful by the second. She’d been strong during her grandfather’s memorial service here at The Pub. All Patrick Morrow’s friends had shared their stories of him, the funny, generous, kind man who’d raised her, and she hadn’t shed a tear. People offered condolences and she gracefully thanked them. But if one more person said “I’m sorry for your loss,” the composure that was making her face hurt would shatter. If the stragglers didn’t leave pretty soon, she couldn’t guarantee they wouldn’t see her ugly, wet, snotty cry.
She both yearned and dreaded to be alone when it happened. Still, the sooner she sped up them up, the sooner she could mourn privately.
She walked over to the booth by the front window and smiled at the three men and one woman there. They were here to pay their respects. “Can I get you anything? Another beer? Glass of wine?”
All four shook their heads. They were older, longtime friends of her grandfather. Silver-haired John Alexander gave her a sympathetic look. “How are you holding up, honey?”
“Okay,” she lied. “I learned how to be strong from him.”
“That was Pat,” he agreed. “Strongest person I ever knew.”
The older woman sitting beside him touched his arm and gave the other two men a look. “We need to go. It’s been a long day for Tess.”
The others murmured their agreement and slid out of the booth. Every one of them asked if she needed anything and then hugged her. Made sure she knew to call if they could help her at all. Finally, blessedly, she closed and locked the door behind them. She lowered the shades on the big glass windows looking out on the nearly empty parking lot. Finally she was alone.
“Tess?”
She whirled around, heart pounding. “Dear God, Leo. You scared the crap out of me.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
“What are you doing here?” She blew out a long breath.
“I came to pay my respects to Pat,” he said. “He was my friend.”
“I meant still. What are you still doing
here?”
“Just wanted to stick around. Make sure you’re okay.” He shrugged one broad shoulder.
Leo “The Wall” Wallace used to play professional ice hockey up until two years ago when an ankle injury ended his career. That sucked for him, but prevented female heartbreak in every major city with an NHL team.
He was a really big man, not just tall, but muscular, too. He had dirty-blond hair that insisted on curling and blue eyes that normally sparkled with mischief and flirtation. Right now they were somber and a little sad. Her grandfather had had a soft spot in his heart for this man. Tess’s heart? Not so soft for him.
“Where did you come from?” Her pulse was finally slowing to normal.
“My favorite booth.”
She glanced at it in a far, shadowy corner that Pat had called the penalty box. In honor of Leo and his time spent in one during his hockey career.
“Well, I didn’t see you.” That was only half a lie. She’d ignored him, or tried to. He was a reminder of problems—personal and otherwise.
In the last year or so, bar revenue had declined. They were losing business to trendier establishments, and six months ago her grandfather had approached Leo about investing in The Pub. He’d introduced her and suggested lending Leo’s celebrity name and a bit of capital to modernize and shake things up. She’d assured Pat that the two of them together could come up with a plan to make the place profitable again. But he was sick. Losing the man who’d taken her in when she was six years old hadn’t been part of that plan.
Tears stung her eyes but she managed, just barely, to hold them back. “I’m fine.”
He moved closer, stopping right in front of her. The man was like a mountain. Hence his nickname, “The Wall.”
“Are you really?”
“I have to be.” She looked up and met his gaze, trying to pretend her heart wasn’t pounding too hard, and if it was, that it had nothing whatsoever to do with him standing so near. “Okay, thanks for coming. You can go now.”
To Keep Her Baby Page 17
