The Groom Came C.o.d.. Mollie Molay
could she tell him he’d been her idea of a perfect mate ever since she’d first laid eyes on him in high school? That she had even dreamed of him as a perfect husband and father? Or that when she’d seen his image, she jumped at the chance to make him her fantasy groom.
He looked angrier than ever. She hurried to put out the fire growing in his eyes. “I’m sorry about the announcement. I just realized I must have pressed the enter button on my computer by mistake after I was interrupted by a client. It doesn’t mean anything. After all, it was only a fantasy wedding.”
“A fantasy wedding? You’ve got to be kidding! Whose?”
“Mine,” she answered defiantly. “But I swear I didn’t intend to put it into action!”
“You didn’t mean to do it?” He waved the newspaper at her. “Hell! That’s a weak excuse considering the possible damage you’ve done.”
She continued to protest her innocence, all the time knowing she was as guilty as hell. “Well, it’s true. I told you it was unintentional! I pressed the enter button by mistake.”
His eyebrows rose until they met. She smiled weakly.
He examined her thoughtfully. Under his studied gaze, her hormones stood at attention. She self-consciously checked the buttons on her blouse.
“About this dating Web site thing,” he finally said. “How could you believe I would have agreed to anything so stupid?”
“Maybe not, but your picture’s there!”
“So, take it off!”
“Quit hollering,” she said, with a glance over her shoulder. “I keep telling you I didn’t put you on there! Why can’t you believe me?”
“Because you haven’t made any sense since I got here.” He lowered his voice, but his frustration showed. “In fact the whole story sounds as if you made it all up.”
“Kind of, but I’m in no condition to discuss this any further.” She gestured to the door. “I have a splitting headache, so if you don’t mind, I’d like to be alone.”
“Alone to do what? Create more havoc on your computer?”
“No, I intend to have several cups of strong, ink-black coffee. Then I’m going to get dressed and try to go to work. If you insist, I’ll get back to you later.”
“You mean that’s not your working outfit?” His gaze roamed over her with blatant honesty. It was obvious he liked what he saw and was man enough to show it. She shook her head and fought off an urge to cover herself. It was her territory, wasn’t it?
“Too bad.” He glanced at the mahogany staircase. “You live here?”
Melinda nodded carefully. “With my Aunt Bertie. She owns the shop.” The dull ache in her head had turned into a crescendo of pain. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her holding her head to keep it from falling off. Things were bad enough.
His gaze swung back to her. He glanced at the newspaper and raked his fingers through his hair. “I hope you realize you may have blown it big time. How are you going to get us out of this mess.”
“There is no ‘us,”’ she protested. “It was all a mistake. I’m sure everyone will understand when I tell them so. Now, please leave. I honestly can’t discuss this right now.”
He stepped closer, his now hard blue eyes bore into hers. “Well, I can. Why don’t you start at the beginning of this mess and give me the whole nine yards.”
“It’s a long story,” she said. “But honestly, I’m in no condition to discuss it. Not right now. I’ll get back to you.”
“You’re in no condition?” he barked. “You call it a mistake, but how do you think I feel? I’ve acquired a fiancée and a wedding date with a bride I don’t even know!”
“Please,” Melinda protested. She massaged her temples. “I have a terrible headache. You’ll have to wait. I’ll do something about it. I just don’t know what.”
Her heart skipped a beat when his gaze softened.
“Okay. I’m willing to compromise. Go ahead and have your coffee. But after you’re through I expect you to call the newspaper and retract the announcement. But I warn you, we’re not through talking.”
Melinda closed her eyes and swallowed hard. How could she carry on an intelligent conversation, let alone try to convince him she had all her marbles when she wasn’t all that sure herself? What she needed was to have time to figure out a way to undo the mess she was in.
So much for raging hormones.
Her head pounded. She tried to put one and one together. Before she’d left to rescue a client and her allergic fiancé, she must have pressed the enter button on her computer! Her fantasy wedding plans must have gone into action, including the newspaper announcement. She peered at Ben through a mist of pain. High school sweethearts, of all things! No wonder Ben looked ready to throttle her.
She was heartsick. How could she have gotten so careless as to chose Ojai’s most eligible bachelor for a fantasy husband—even by mistake?
Things got even worse when she envisioned the orders she must have placed and supplier’s cancellation penalties to follow. And, horror of horrors, the public apology it looked as if she would have to make before Ben was satisfied.
“As long as you insist, come on in the kitchen,” she said over her shoulder. “I’ll put on the coffee, but I don’t guarantee it won’t taste like mud.”
“Good! I could use something strong right now. You have no idea of the mess you’ve created or the attention I’m bound to get because of it.”
Sure, Melinda thought to herself. The number of disappointed women who had set their hopes on winning Ben for a husband were bound to be legion. Considering that he hadn’t been in a hurry to take any of them up on it, maybe he should have been grateful to her for getting him off the marriage market.
She was ready to tell him so when the sound of footsteps coming down the wooden stairs interrupted her. Her aunt Bertie tripped into the kitchen.
“Ah, there you are, Benjamin!” She cocked her head to one side and smiled at Ben and Melinda. “How sweet of you to come over early to see your fiancée.”
Fiancée? Ben hesitated. The word made his hackles rise, but considering who he was talking to, he bit back the words he was tempted to say. “Not really, Ms. Bertie. I came as soon as I discovered your niece and I had a lot to discuss.”
He felt himself blush like a teenager when she smiled and glanced at the newspaper crushed in his hand. “I must tell you how good I felt to see your pending wedding announcement in there! Frankly,” she said with an admiring glance at Ben, “I didn’t even know you and Melinda were seeing each other, let alone planning to wed. How romantic.”
Ben nodded politely, but his mind cringed at the timing of Bertie’s entrance. This was no time to finish reading Melinda the riot act. Nor was it a good time to insist she call the newspaper with a retraction. He’d have to wait until the excitement died down before he had a calm and serious heart-to-heart talk with her. Before he was through, she’d never pull a fool stunt like this again.
As for Bertie, she was a staunch supporter of the high school’s athletic teams and the basketball team just as he was. She’d baked her famous chocolate-chip cookies for the high school’s fund-raisers as far back as when he’d been a kid. He owed her respect.
Her niece—well, that was another story. He should have been angry with Melinda, but somehow he wasn’t any longer.
He glanced over at Melinda. In spite of her headache, with her blond hair caught back in a ponytail and dressed in a brief outfit that revealed as much as it concealed, she looked as fresh and pretty as a spring sunrise.
“I’m