Two Wrongs Make a Right (22 page)

She returned, minus the disco ball, and locked eyes with him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

God, he wanted to hold her, but reminded himself of how he’d meant no more to her than stud service. Not even her first choice. A last minute substitute. And how she’d kept the baby a secret. Planned to rob him of fatherhood. Keep him from his child, and the fire of revenge burned again. “Is that all you have to say? You’re sorry?”

She rested her hand on her belly. “Do you mind if we sit?”

He followed her to the living room. She sat on the old sofa and he took a chair. “Don’t bother denying anything. I’ve spoken to Megan.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I know you hate me, but not as much as I hate myself for what I’ve done to you. I’m truly sorry. How did you find me?”

“My brother-in-law. He’s a photographer and took pictures at a wedding you attended. Just a stroke of luck—or bad luck, depending on how you look at it.”

She heaved a deep breath, and he thought she would fall to pieces, but she didn’t. Instead, she wiped tears with the back of her hand and let her eyes wander over his face, the same way she had that morning in the hotel room. His heart kicked up again, and he wanted to crush his lips against hers. Hold her so close he could feel her heart beat against his chest. Then she spoke and brought him back to reality.

“I won’t keep the baby from you. I’ll name you on the birth certificate. I’m willing to share custody without a fight.”

To mask the desire burning in him, he grimaced and crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh, believe me, you’ll do better than that.”

Quinn focused on his mouth, because after he said the word
married
, all she heard was ‘blah-blah-blah-family-blah-blah-job-blah-blah-blah.’ Her lip reading attempt failed, so she blinked a few times to break the spell and concentrated on listening. Moving into his beautiful house with top of the line appliances was supposed to be punishment? Was the man insane? Forget being an unemployed, homeless pedestrian, his offer couldn’t come at a better time. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“My sister and I will be here in the morning to discuss the wedding ceremony.”

Quinn’s brows knit. “I thought we’d go to city hall.”

“No. My family has waited a long time for me to marry and I won’t rob them of a celebration.”

“But…this won’t be a real marriage, right?” She had to ask. Pretty sure during all that blah-blah-blah, he’d covered the union was strictly for show, but she’d been so shocked, she might have missed something.

“It will be to them.”

Now she got it. For as long as the marriage lasted, she’d have to perform in a way that’d put the Stepford Wives to shame. She could do that. A formal wedding not so bad. She’d always dreamed of her dad walking her down the aisle. That’d make him happy, too. Without knowing the circumstances, seeing her married to the baby’s father would be the highlight of his life.

“Okay. Come early.”

“We’ll be here by eight.” Her new fiancé rose and she followed him to the front door, then watched until he disappeared in the fog.

Married. He wanted to marry her.
She shoved the door closed, and Raynie came from the back room. “I tried to hear what he was saying, but couldn’t. I figured you’d scream if you needed help. What did he want?”

Almost unable to believe what just happened, Quinn leaned against the door like a love-sick teenager. The circumstances might not be great, but this at least offered an opportunity to live in the same house with the baby’s father, and she couldn’t help but be happy. “He’s making me marry him.”

Her personal fortuneteller strangled at the remark, then recovered and wheezed the words out. “He what? Holy crap. The Tarot said nothing about him proposing.”

Proposed?
Quinn held up her hand. “I wouldn’t exactly call it a proposal. More of a commandment.”

Her friend stepped forward and cupped Quinn’s elbow. “Why don’t you come sit over here and tell me everything.”

Once relaxed on the sofa, she figured out where to start. “He’s pissed, and has every right to be, but it turns out, he needs me for something. The old guy buying Galaxy likes family men, so Dak’s job could be in jeopardy. A wife and baby on the way will add security for him. He gets what he wants, and I get a husband, beautiful house, and paid medical expenses.”

“For how long?”

“Didn’t discuss that. I guess until he decides his position….” Before she could finish, someone tapped on the door. She hung her head. “Lord Jesus, now what?”

Right hand Raynie jumped to her feet. “I texted our third partner in crime while you were having your pow-wow.”

The new visitor rushed in out of breath. “I’m so sorry. I wanted to warn you, but he threatened me. He came into my office and threw a picture on my desk of you and me at that wedding, and I freaked.”

Swallowing the knot clogged in her throat took some effort. Quinn pulled herself together. “What did you tell him?”

“I tried to explain it was all a mistake, but I’m not sure he believed me.”

“He’s making Quinn marry him.”

Megan glared at the Tarot tart, then Quinn, who plopped back down on the sofa. “Are you kidding? That’s the last thing I expected. But that’s good, isn’t it? You can be a real family.”

Could it be true?
She wagged her head, still in somewhat of a daze over the whole evening. “But only for a while. Until his job is secure.” She looked at Lucy and Ethel who’d padded in to join the party, then back at Raynie. “I hate to ask, but could you take the cats for a while?”

A perfect solution
. The cat lover picked up Lucy and stroked her. “You bet. Get all their stuff together and I’ll pick them up tomorrow.”

Megan sat beside her. “Oh my Lord. I’d heard Mr. Hamilton might terminate some of us and bring in his own people, but I never dreamed Dak would be in jeopardy. I mean, his sales are off the charts. He’s like corporate’s Golden Boy. His interview must not have gone well.”

Suddenly, Quinn was bone tired. “I’m worn out. Can we call it a night? I’m sorry about the costume party.”

“Maybe next year.” Megan hurried to the door and held it for Raynie. When they got to the steps, she turned. “What time is he coming back tomorrow?”

“Eight.”

“Okay. I’ll be here before then for the kitties. Bye.”

An hour later, Quinn tossed and turned. She wanted to sleep, but a thousand things ran through her mind. Facing her groom’s family and wondering what he’d tell them.
Groom
. The word sounded strange. He’d said the marriage would be real to them. Okay, so that meant they didn’t know what she’d done, and he didn’t plan to tell them. However he handled his parents, fine by her. Breaking the news to her own loomed ahead.
Plenty to deal with
.

At seven o’clock the next morning, after her daily bout with her face in the commode, she started a pot of coffee and checked the street for Dak’s car. Probably as anxious as she to get the meeting over, he might come early. She doubted he’d slept much either. Last night, the color in his cheeks told her his blood pressure hovered at a dangerous level.

Thirty minutes later, he parked in the drive. Through one skinny slit in the blind, she spied on him and a woman as they got out of the car and strolled up the walk. Not waiting for him to knock, she swung the door wide. The early morning light filtered through his hair as if back-lit for a photo shoot. Her chest tightened since a picture had condemned her.

“Good morning.” She turned to the woman. “I’m Quinn Dorsey, please come in.”

The woman offered her hand. “Simona Hayes. Dak’s sister.”

“And my attorney.” He added without an ounce of kindness.

A lawyer, huh? Convenient.
Quinn accepted her sister-to-be’s hand, then closed the door and wondered what he meant by the surly announcement. Was that his subtle way of alluding to a custody battle once the marriage ended? There’d be no reason for that. She’d made it clear she’d work with him. “Would either of you like a cup of coffee?”

“Yes, please.” Simona cut her eyes to her brother then back. “Both of us. Black. And thank you.”

Motioning for them to sit, she went to pour the brew. Once in the kitchen, she leaned on the counter for support, and fought another wave of nausea. Oh how she hated the sickness and hoped it had passed, but her stomach clenched. Covering her mouth, she ran through to the bathroom, barely making it in time. After retching, and brushing her teeth, she returned to the living room.

His sister had already gotten the coffee.

“I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize. I have two girls and hated morning sickness. But you’re in the second trimester, right? It should be over by now.”

“So they say, but lucky me, I’m still puking my guts up.”

Ending the small talk, Dak got right to business. “We’ll get a marriage license today. Tomorrow, we’ll meet each other’s parents. Then, we’ll have the ceremony Saturday at my house on the back deck. Sim will go with you later to buy a dress and anything else you need.”

From his tone, Quinn decided any challenge to be unnecessary. Although he needed her, she didn’t want to take a chance on putting Megan’s job at risk. She had enough going on already with the buyout and having to work with Dak every day. “Okay.”

He looked around, then at Quinn. The temperature in the room dropped. “Sim, give her the pre-nup and tape.”

His sister reached into her bag, pulled out a document, and a blue roll then passed them to Quinn.

Pulling a pen from his shirt pocket, he held it toward her. “Sign the agreement. Use the tape to mark all the furniture you want to keep so the movers will know what to take and what to leave behind.” Then his eyes traveled beyond her and she followed his gaze. Lucy crouched under the kitchen table.

“You have a cat?”

“Two, but I’ve made arrangements for my friend to take them.” A tear rolled down her cheek, and she swiped at it. Turning, she placed the paper on the side table and scribbled, then handed it back.

Before folding and sticking it in his pocket, he scrutinized her signature. Probably wanted to make sure she’d signed her real name and not Molly Harper. Couldn’t blame him. He was totally entitled to doubt her.

As if on cue, Raynie breezed in without knocking and flitted to where they sat. Bangles clinked as she stuck out her hand toward Simona. “Hi, I’m Raynebeaux Starr.”

Dak laughed and repeated. “Raynebeaux Starr?” Then his smile faded and he narrowed his eyes at his future bride. “Don’t even think about naming our baby something weird.”

Coming from hippy parents, the name fit her friend, who smirked. “Says the guy named
Dak
. What the hell kind of name is that?”

He didn’t even acknowledge her comment, just glared, and Quinn knew she was in deep-shit. Not only was he pissed at her and Megan, now he didn’t like Raynie either.
Great. There’s that damn trifecta again.

Simona chuckled then focused on the new visitor. “Would you care to accompany us? We’re shopping for a wedding dress today.”

“Oooo, I’d love to.” Then she looked at Quinn. “Do I have time to take Lucy and Ethel to my place before we go?”

“Why don’t I help you with the cats while the bride and groom get the marriage license? We can meet up at city hall and pick Quinn up there.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Just before lunch, her future sister and best friend swept into Blissful Boutique ahead of her, the two of them obviously excited to be there. Simona leaned close to Quinn. “Now, don’t even consider cost. Dak is paying, so don’t settle for a dress you don’t love because of price.”

Giving her some privacy, Raynie walked ahead and shuffled through a rack.

“I don’t expect him to do that. I can’t let him.”

“Oh yes, you certainly can. This is his idea. It’s your wedding and you should have a beautiful dress and feel like a princess. Truly, you heard him. Take advantage of his offer.”

“Cups, swords, and wands! Come look at this dress. It’s perfect.”

Thankful to end the conversation, Quinn headed for the rack as her friend lifted the hanger and spread the gorgeous gown before her. A hand to her throat. “Lord Jesus. It’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.” She went straight for the price tag. “I can’t afford this. Put it back.”

Without hesitation, Simona palmed the tag. “Dak can, easily, I assure you. Try it on.”

“Oh no. If I do, I’m afraid I’ll want it, and I can’t let him spend this much. Maybe if it was a real marriage, but not for a fake one.”

The saleslady’s face went blank then puzzled. Simona took the hanger and shoved it toward her. “Like your friend said, it’s perfect. Truly, I insist. You’ll be beautiful in it. I may not know you well yet, but enough to know this is just your style. Try it. Please.”

Running her hand over layers of chiffon, she waivered. “I guess it won’t hurt to see it on. But we’re not buying it.”

“I’ll help you,” the clerk said.

Within a few minutes, Quinn left the oversized dressing room wearing the vintage inspired dress. The asymmetrical hemline floated as she moved. Embroidery and ruching detail skimmed her mid-section. Cap sleeves hung in soft gathers while the scooped neckline rested just above her cleavage. Standing before the bank of mirrors, she twirled. Sheer fabric as delicate as the baby she carried, fluttered.

“You simply must have this dress.” Simona held her chin as though studying the Cinderella ball gown. “It’s made for you. I mean it. It’s yours.”

“It is lovely.” The saleslady pinched some of the fabric in her fingers. “A slight alteration here, don’t you think? We’ll be happy to do that for you, today. And it will be perfection.”

“I don’t think it needs anything, Girlfriend, it’s you.”

“I do love it. It’s so romantic. But I can’t. I don’t deserve it. I’ll pick out something within my budget.”

Facing the saleswoman with a smile, Simona retrieved her checkbook. “We’re getting the dress.” She turned to Quinn. “Listen to me, my brother didn’t set a limit, and real or not, it is your wedding day. You’re marrying your child’s father. That makes it special. If it turns out you’re having a girl, you can pass the dress to her. Even Dak won’t be able to argue with that logic. Besides, if he says anything, I’ll tell him I decided. Now, let’s check out a veil.”