Her mother chuckled. “I’m picturing you at the slots. Are you going to gamble away your fortune?”
Might as well take the plunge. “No. I’m going to…get married.”
After a long silence, Dorothy said, “To whom?”
Shelley squeezed her eyes shut. “Zach Harmon.”
“Why?” The one word carried a whole world of shock and confusion.
Her hands shook so badly she needed both of them to hold the phone. “Because…because Zach’s the father. Of my baby.”
Dorothy’s voice, when she finally spoke, was cool. “No wonder you were so upset back in July, when I let him bring Allyson home from the ball game. I gather you changed your mind about telling him?” Hurt tinted the question.
“He found out before I could. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I really did think we would all be better off apart, even after he knew. But Zach keeps pushing, and I can’t keep fighting.” Herself, as well as him.
“Well.” Dorothy sighed. “I’m glad he’s willing to assume the responsibility. This is probably for the best. You could use some help, and a chance to be taken care of. Do you want me to come with you?”
“I don’t think so, if that’s okay.”
“You’ll be getting married with none of your family there?”
“We’re only doing this for the baby, Mom. It’s not exactly a celebration.”
“Well, be sure to take something old, new, borrowed and blue.” The reserve in her voice diminished the encouraging spirit of the advice.
“I will. And I’ll call when we get back.”
“I’ll be waiting. Good luck, honey.” Her voice softened on the last word, at least.
“Thanks. Love you.”
Shelley set down the phone and went up to her bedroom to choose a wedding outfit. The options were limited, because she hadn’t bought a whole closet of maternity clothes. She finally settled on a soft angora sweater in winter white, with a pair of wool slacks in the same color. Those covered the new part. A gold necklace and earrings that were her first luxury jewelry filled in for something old, and a scarf with shades of gold and blue and red finished up the rest. Right?
“No…” Shelley sighed. “Something borrowed.” This family would need all the good luck it could get.
She went down the hall into Allyson’s room. Its emptiness reminded her of all she’d lost. Both her mother and her little girl should be there to share this wedding. If indeed, there should be a wedding at all.
“Oh, stop it!” Shelley opened the top drawer of Allyson’s chest and took out her christening bonnet, fashioned from a delicate linen-and-lace handkerchief. She would take this cap to her wedding. In that way, Allyson could come, too.
As she folded the tiny square into her purse, the ring she wore caught her eye. The make-believe wedding ring.
Should she keep it in her pocket for Zach to give back? He wouldn’t have time to buy a ring, even if he had the inclination. Should there even be a ring to symbolize such a…a…counterfeit marriage?
Zach had called this ring a lie. So she took it off. Ring or no ring, there would be a wedding. And then…?
The baby punched at her. “I know, I know,” she told it. “You think this is a good idea, too.”
Shelley folded her arms around her belly. “So it’s just me,” she whispered to the little person inside. “I’m the only one who can’t believe this will ever, ever work.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ZACH WAS on his way out the door when the phone rang. He stopped in his tracks and waited to hear the message, in case there was an emergency he needed to handle. Otherwise, he wasn’t talking to anybody until he and Shelley returned…from their wedding.
The answering machine clicked on. “Zachary, this is your mother. Please come to lunch Sunday. I need to talk with you about Carol. Take care of yourself.”
He dropped his head back against the door frame. His mother would like to know that he was getting married. She would want to meet the woman first. She would expect to help with wedding plans and reception food and all that jazz, just as she had for his brothers and his sister.
Instead, he was sneaking Shelley off to Vegas for a quickie ceremony by a justice of the peace. No priest, no family, no friends. His mother would be devastated.
But if he didn’t take advantage of Shelley’s offer right away, there might not be a wedding at all.
Zach straightened up and started moving again. So that was the answer. There would be a wedding. Tonight. He and Shelley would come back to Denver tomorrow as husband and wife and take up their lives together, for better or worse.
He wasn’t sure, yet, which outcome was more likely. He’d spent a sleepless night going over the decision, remembering the conversation, discussing with Darius the changes in store.
Did Shelley even like cats?
And would she be comfortable in his place? He’d rolled out of bed before 6:00 a.m. to neaten things up, trying to see his house through her eyes. Nothing here resembled the grandeur of her home, of course. But there were three bedrooms and a kitchen he’d remodeled with concern for efficiency and convenience. She might feel a little cramped at first. They’d both have to compromise.
That possibility seemed easier, less threatening, when he glanced toward the door at the airport and saw her coming his way. She looked fantastic, all in white and gold, with a colorful scarf around her shoulders and her hair shining in the afternoon sun.
But her eyes, meeting his, were wide with apprehension.
Zach grinned and took the suitcase out of her hand. “Right on time. Let’s check in, then get something to drink.”
She didn’t say much during the checkin, didn’t say anything at all as she sipped hot chocolate in the airport coffee shop. Because the lack of conversation was getting on his nerves, Zach reached over and twined his fingers in hers. So cold. “Shelley?”
She gazed at their joined hands, then looked up. “Yes?”
“It’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay. I promise.”
Her fingers trembled in his. “I hope so.”
“I know so. Try to relax.”
“I am.” She sighed quietly.
He’d booked first-class seats, wanting Shelley to be as comfortable as possible. “The flight isn’t very long,” he told her as they buckled in. “We’ll be on the ground almost before they have a chance to serve drinks.”
She didn’t answer. The plane taxied away from the terminal and down the runway, then took off with a leap of power. Shelley only spoke after they heard the flaps go up and the wings had leveled.
“I told my mother that you’re the baby’s father.” She didn’t look at him as she said it. “She wasn’t exactly thrilled.”
“I’m sorry—I hoped she’d like me a little.”
“She does like you. She’s just worried about what we’re doing. And she’s right. I can’t help wondering…”
“If we’re making a mistake?”
Eyes closed, she nodded.
Zach watched her face from the side. He had a feeling that the whole deal rested on this one conversation. If he blew his chance, everything would fall apart.
He took her hand again. How could she have gotten even colder? “I know this is scary. And if you want to call it off, right here, right now, you can. I won’t force you to marry me. I can only say that I’ll do my best to take care of you and the baby, to make all of us comfortable and safe.”
With the tips of his fingers, he touched her cheek, turning her face toward him. The motion disturbed the tears in her eyes. They fell onto her skin like a slow rain and burned his heart like acid. “Shelley, I believe we can be happy. Won’t you trust me? I really want to make this work.”
Her lips trembled, her gaze clung to his. “I always trusted you, Zach. I’m the one who never…who can’t…” She turned her face away and slipped her fingers out of his to wipe her cheeks.
“Something to drink?” The flight attendant stopped beside t
heir seats. “Peanuts?”
Shelley shook her head. Zach shook his. They rode the rest of the way to Vegas in their separate silences.
THEY DIDN’T WAIT LONG at the wedding chapel—October wasn’t the most popular month to get married in Vegas. Zach had called ahead to set up an appointment, make a reservation, whatever the hell getting married this way was called.
Crazy probably came closest.
“Do you, Zachary Briggs Harmon, take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife? To have and to hold from this day forward? To honor and cherish, in sickness and in health, until death you do part?”
Quite a commitment. Not that he’d thought otherwise. But the words sounded so…final. Zach took a deep breath. “I do.”
After a long hesitation, Shelley answered her own version of that question. “I do.”
The J.P. nodded. “Do you have a ring?”
“No,” Shelley said.
“Sure,” Zach said at the same time. He slipped the band he’d bought out of his pocket and reached across for Shelley’s left hand.
Her fingers clutched at his, and he looked up into her distressed brown eyes. “I—I don’t…”
He put a fingertip on her lips. “No problem,” he whispered. “With this ring, I thee wed,” he said loudly, repeating after the judge. “And thereto I plight thee my troth.”
“With the power vested in me by the state of Nevada,” the J.P. declared, “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride!”
Zach looked at the pale face of the woman he’d just married. Emotions stormed through her eyes, too many and too fast for him to read. But anxiety edged them all.
He managed a small grin to cover his own nerves. Cupping her head with his hands, he leaned closer. “Just shut your eyes. I promise this won’t hurt a bit.”
Shelley did as he asked. Zach touched his mouth to hers with all the gentleness he could command.
Despite his intentions, a current ran through the kiss, a thread of passion he hadn’t created, couldn’t control. Shelley’s palm came to rest on his shoulder. Her lips softened, then parted, under his.
All at once Zach was lost, as lost as he’d been the first time he’d kissed her. Then…now…reality disappeared beyond the searing need this woman could excite. He slipped his hands down her back, pulled her as close as he could and took the kiss fathoms deeper.
Beside them, the judge cleared his throat.
Disoriented, Zach lifted his head to look around. Shelley stepped back, breaking the connection they’d shared. He felt the loss as if he’d walked into a blizzard without his clothes. “Um…okay. What now?”
The legal formalities took another few minutes. Finally, they stepped out of the chapel into a cool desert twilight. Zach put a hand at the small of Shelley’s back. “How about dinner?”
She glanced at him, and then away. “If you’re hungry.”
“I’m always hungry. And I just happen to have reservations.” He waved down a cab and opened Shelley’s door, gave the driver an address, then settled back against the seat.
“Have you been to Vegas before?”
She shrugged. “A couple of times.”
“Did you win?” Maybe if he could distract her from what they’d just done, the situation would get easier.
“I don’t have much of a head for cards. And I don’t have the patience for a slot machine.”
“Yet you’re always gambling with real estate.” Not to mention gambling on marriage. For the second time.
“That’s different.” She looked at him with a return of the fighting spirit he’d been missing. “I have control over a real-estate deal. The way things turn out depends to a great extent on how well I do my job. I don’t have any control over the cards or the slot machine. Winning there is just luck.”
“I’ve been a cop too long not to believe in good luck. And bad.”
Shelley shook her head. “I’d rather make my own.”
The cab slowed, then stopped at the end of a line of cars edging toward the front door of Vegas’s newest and ritziest hotel casino. “Gonna be a while,” the driver said over his shoulder.
Zach leaned forward to peer through the windshield. A thick collage of sequins and loud shirts and cowboy hats milled around the door to the lobby, under a haze of smoke floating like high fog in the lights. Folks who had opted to walk passed the cab on either side, some of them following less than a straight line, all of them loud.
Somewhere up ahead, a bottle crashed and shouts broke out. The crowd stirred, separated, re-formed. Camera flashes sputtered, a spotlight danced across the sky and a million smaller bulbs flickered on the windows of the hotel. Money-fueled chaos.
“Is this crazy, or what?” When Shelley didn’t answer, Zach turned to look her. He couldn’t help a smile. Sometime in the last few minutes she’d fallen asleep, with her head tilted against the window and her hands clasped loosely over her stomach. The diamonds in the ring he’d put on her finger pulsed with their own life, nearly as brilliant as the hotel lights.
As they got closer to the entrance, music filtered into the mix, though the crowd noise defied any attempt to recognize an actual tune. Voices called, argued, complained. At least two babies cried in counterpoint. A dog barked. Shelley didn’t even stir—she must be completely exhausted. Maybe she hadn’t slept any better than he had last night.
At last, their cab reached the front door. Zach got out, turned, then stood staring at the commotion before him. This was the least romantic place he’d ever seen. Were he and Shelley going to spend their wedding night here? Was this the place to begin a new life?
As their driver walked behind him to open the trunk, Zach made a snap decision. “Is there somewhere else to stay in this town? Quieter, less crowded?”
The cabby shrugged. “This is Vegas, man. Who wants quiet?”
“I do.” He pulled a bill out of his wallet. “Fifty bucks plus fare if you take us to a nice place where we can have dinner and a room without a neon view.”
The trunk slammed shut. “I can do that.”
In less than twenty minutes, the cab turned into the driveway of a house on the edge of town, where desert reclaimed the land and mountains hunched like black dragons against a sky sprayed with stars. “This is a B&B,” the driver said. “Good food, nice rooms. I called on the way over—they got exactly one left.”
“Thanks.” He handed over two fifties, to cover the fare and the tip. While the driver took the bags up to the front door, Zach leaned into the cab and put his hand on Shelley’s arm. “Wake up, lady. Dinner’s waiting.”
She turned her head slightly, then settled back into her nap.
“Shelley, wake up.” He shook her lightly. “Somebody cast a spell?” Her breathing stayed even, her eyes closed.
Zach chuckled, then braced his weight with one hand on the seat near Shelley’s shoulder and a knee near her hip. With the other hand, he tilted her face toward him. And paused.
My wife. A dynamo with cornsilk hair and a pouting mouth. An expectant mother, with the swell of a baby beneath her small breasts. A woman who used words as weapons but could be hurt by them, as well. A sturdy spirit, reluctant to depend on anyone else. Especially not the man she’d married.
“I’m going to change that,” Zach promised in a low voice. Then he pressed a kiss against those soft, red lips.
THE KISS WAS LIKE a dream…or came out of her dreams, Shelley wasn’t sure which. She warmed to the touch, turned into the taste and pressure of a firm mouth over hers. Patience and caring and concern poured into her through the kiss, filling the cold places inside with light and heat. So much heat. She wanted even more. She put up a hand, touched the curve of an ear, the arch of a jaw, the corner of a man’s lips.
She opened her eyes, focused. And drew back, blushing. “I’m awake now. Sorry.”
Zach traced the pad of his thumb across her mouth. He was smiling. “Don’t be sorry. That was incredible.”
Shelley looked away, fe
eling for her purse. “Where are we? What happened?”
His fingers drifted across her chin and away. “A bed and breakfast. I decided we didn’t belong in a mob scene.”
“Oh.” The silence around them was a welcome change, though she wasn’t sure she had a handle on anything very solid right now. She caught sight of the cabdriver coming up behind Zach. “I guess we should go in.”
“Let me help you.” Zach held out his hand. Shelley allowed him to steady her as she got out of the car, but drew her arm back as quickly as possible. She didn’t know how to begin finding her balance when it came to this man. Her husband.
Inside the inn, a man approached them out of a hallway on the other side of the polished black marble floor. “Good evening. The cabdriver said you’d like to stay the night?”
Zach’s hand settled on Shelley’s shoulder. “If you have a room.”
“Certainly, Mr…?”
“Harmon. Zach and Shelley Harmon.” The two men shook hands.
But Shelley listened to those words—Zach and Shelley Harmon—echo through her mind. They seemed to bounce off the walls of her skull, moving faster and faster, until her head started spinning. She put a hand out for stability against the motion, and shut her eyes.
A hand closed over hers. “Shelley, are you okay?”
“I—I need to sit down.”
“Sure.” She kept her eyes closed as she was led a few steps and gently pushed into a chair, then leaned back gratefully. The whirling slowed a little.
The innkeeper’s voice came from high above her. “I can call a doctor or an ambulance. They’ll be here in minutes.”
“That’s a good idea.” Zach seemed much closer. Both his palms cupped hers.
“No. I’m okay. Really.” Shelley opened her eyes to find Zach’s face level with her own as he knelt by her chair. His gaze was a combination of fierceness and worry. “It’s been a long day.”
“I know.” He squeezed her hands. “Why don’t we let a doctor check you out, just to be sure?”
She pulled her hands away from his. “I think what I need most is just to lie down.”
“Right this way.” The innkeeper headed down a long hallway. Zach stood, but before he could touch her again, Shelley labored to her feet on her own and followed their guide. Carrying their bags, Zach followed her.
Expecting the Best (Harlequin Superromance) Page 14
