Big-Bucks Bachelor. Leah Vale
was ominous.
“Why?”
“Because we were on it.”
He groaned and went to hang her coat up in the nearby closet tucked beneath the stairs. “Jeez. I should have known dodging that news reporter and her cameraman wouldn’t keep them from running some sort of story anyhow. That’s why I’m here, but my rig is still at work. I ducked out the back door to keep from having to talk to them.”
He should have at least found out what they wanted to talk to him about, rather than finding out about it after the fact.
“So you haven’t talked to the newspeople at all lately?” There was an odd, strained quality to her voice.
Before he could consider why, he caught the sound of the barbecue sauce he was making for the chicken bubbling. He started toward the kitchen. “No. Not since they dubbed me the Big-Bucks Bachelor. They pretty much blew their chances with me after that.”
He waved at her to follow him. “Come on into the kitchen. Because I came home so much earlier than normal, I’m grilling some chicken.”
She screwed up her face. “You’re barbecuing? In this weather?”
“Of course I am. I’m a guy.” He went to the stove and turned down the sauce, then glanced back at her pajamas, unfortunately noticing how her surprisingly full breasts moved beneath the satin. “Have—” his voice cracked and he jerked his gaze to her face. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Have you eaten?”
She scoffed. “I tried, but I’m afraid my robe ended up getting more of my soup than I did.” She looked down at herself, as if checking for stains, and let out a soft gasp. She crossed her arms over her chest, flattening the fullness of her breasts.
He tightened his stomach muscles against his body’s shocking interest. This was Mel, for God’s sake. She was his partner, his co-worker, the professional he was going to leave his practice to. And she was the least appropriate person for his body to decide to come out of a five year dormancy for.
With a little, self-deprecating laugh, she said, “I forgot I took my robe off because it was soaked. I guess I should have put some regular clothes on.” Her gaze came back to his. “But frankly, I wasn’t thinking of anything besides talking to you. My gosh, Jack, you’re not going to believe this.”
“Ever since Bobbie renamed the street I live on Lottery Lane, I’ll believe anything, Mel.” He picked up the wooden spoon to taste his sauce.
“Even that they announced on the news tonight that you and I are engaged to be married?”
Jack sprayed dark red sauce on the white tile back splash. “What?”
“They ran a story about how the Big-Bucks Bachelor, which would be you, isn’t going to be a bachelor for long. And apparently I’m the lucky gal to have finally roped you.”
“What the—where in blue blazes would they come…up…with…” He remembered what he’d said to Mary Kay only just that morning and slapped a hand to his forehead, his stomach folding in on itself with dread. “Oh, no.”
Melinda’s brows came together sharply and she uncrossed her arms. “What?”
His little lie couldn’t have been blown so out of proportion so fast, could it? He shook his head, dismissing the notion. “No. It couldn’t be from that.”
She tucked her rapidly drying hair behind an ear and moved closer to him. He stupidly noticed how beautifully formed and delicate her ear was, how it so perfectly matched her dainty jaw and slender neck. No wonder some of the farmers didn’t think she could handle their livestock.
Jack knew, though, that under all that femininity, which somehow, to this point, had been missed by him, was a woman as capable as the next guy. A woman who wouldn’t appreciate being used by him to get out of an uncomfortable situation with another woman.
From low in her throat she said, “What’d you do, Jack?”
For the barest second he considered not telling her about what had happened with Mary Kay. But Melinda would learn of it eventually, or at least some mutated version of it. He pulled in a deep breath. “Remember when Mary Kay came in with Pumpkin earlier?”
She threw out a hip and crossed her arms again, this time unconsciously tucking them beneath her breasts and pushing them upward. He could see the deep cleavage that was formed where the neckline of her pajama top veed and left him with no doubt about the fullness of her breasts.
Jack’s mouth went dry.
“Yes. She sent me schlepping out into the cold for no good reason. There was no icicle threatening my truck.”
He ground his teeth as his previous annoyance with Mary Kay bubbled into something more serious. “I figured as much. She just wanted you out of there so she could try to jump me.”
Melinda’s brows shot up. “Excuse me?”
“She’s trying to snag herself a millionaire. Any way she can. And as you’ve probably noticed, she’s not the only one.” He ran a weary hand through his too long hair. “It was kind of humorous for a little while. A very little while. But they’re taking it too far.”
Thinking of Paula Pratt, he added, “Anyone who would get a pet just to hit on a guy needs to have her head examined.” He blew out a breath. “Anyway, Mary Kay wouldn’t take no for an answer, and short of physically removing her from the premises—not to mention my body—the only way I could think of to put her off was to claim to already be involved with someone.”
Melinda’s cheeks gradually became the same shade as her pj’s. “How’d my name…”
“Mary Kay insisted on knowing who I was involved with.”
“So—so you said it was me?”
Guilt replaced his anger toward Mary Kay. “Yeah. You happened to walk by just then…” He vaguely waved a hand, remembering the moment. “Besides, you’re the only one who made sense. I mean, what other woman do I spend any amount of time alone with?”
She shifted her gaze to the sauce gently bubbling on the stove. “But we’re just working.”
“You and I know that, but Mary Kay was obviously more than willing to believe there’s been more than work going on. And for the record, I only said that we were seriously involved. I never said we were engaged. And I also asked her to keep it to herself.”
Mel made a noise. “Please. When I first moved here it only took me a matter of days to realize if you wanted to keep something a secret, you had to keep it to yourself.”
“I know, I know. I’ll admit I wasn’t thinking much beyond getting Mary Kay to leave me alone.” He gave a slight shrug. “It did work, though.”
“Why didn’t you just tell her you’re leaving town?”
“I doubt that would have put her off. She’d probably be all over the chance to come with me.”
Melinda made a noncommittal noise and picked up the spoon to stir the sauce.
Guilt made his back teeth ache. But what was done was done. “I suppose you’re mad.”
“I just want to know how we’re going to straighten it all out. I mean, it’s not just Mary Kay, anymore. And it’s not just that we’re seriously involved. Everyone thinks we’re engaged.” She looked up at him, her brown eyes soft and reflecting the warmth of the kitchen light. “Engaged, Jack.”
He slapped a hand to his forehead yet again. Suddenly the rest of his day made sense. “Oh, man. Stella and Irene stopped by wanting to know my favorite kind of cake and slow song.”
“You don’t think they’re planning our wed—”
He waved her off before she could finish. “No, no. They wouldn’t take it that