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“A child you created together.”
“Oh, that.” Blythe sighed. “But I still can’t marry him. He’s already issuing me orders and we aren’t even engaged. I’ve spent my entire adult life steering clear of entanglements that could lead to marriage and slavery to some chest-beating Neanderthal. You understand why I can’t marry Adam, don’t you?”
“I understand your reasoning, and I agree that it’s usually a mistake to marry someone without love, but you are pregnant.”
“So?” Shrugging, Blythe opened another envelope, glanced at it and tossed it into the wastebasket. “Single women all across the country are having children alone. There’s no reason why I can’t do it. After all, I’m a mature woman of twenty-eight, the owner of a fairly successful business and my best friend will be at my side throughout the entire pregnancy. Right?”
“Yes, of course, but what about after the baby’s born?” Joy asked. “Craig and I share all the responsibilities of caring for Missy.”
“I can take care of a child without a husband.”
“Well, don’t forget that I’m only working here two days a week now. Who’s going to help you take care of the baby when you’re at work? You could bring her with you, I suppose, the way I do Missy right now, but doing that every day would be difficult. Could you afford good day care?”
“I’ll handle those problems when the time comes. And somehow I’ll figure out a solution.”
“You’re forgetting several important things.”
“What things?” Blythe asked.
“Remember where you live and who you are,” Joy said. “This isn’t New York or L.A. This is Decatur, Alabama. We’re living in the heart of the Bible Belt and upstanding citizens who patronize your florist shop don’t approve of unwed mothers.”
“I know.” Frowning, Blythe clicked her teeth and shook her head. “Adam has already pointed out that we have reputations to uphold and an innocent child’s future to consider.”
“Adam is the other important thing you’re forgetting. He’s going to want to be a part of the baby’s life. Just because you aren’t married to him, doesn’t eliminate his rights as the child’s father.”
“Just what are you advising me to do?” Blythe separated the bills from other business correspondence, wrapping a rubber band around each stack.
“Agree to a marriage in name only until after the baby’s born. Then get a divorce. Let Adam give the child his name and you two work out child support payments and visitation rights. If you and Adam can learn to get along, it will be the best possible gift the two of you could give your child.”
“That’s exactly the solution Adam suggested. But maybe we could work things out without getting married. If we get married, he’s going to want me to change, and I know I’ll want him to change. Each of us will try to make the other become what we want in a mate. Besides, I don’t know if it’s possible for Adam and me to get along.”
Joy smiled. “I think you and Adam have already proved that you can get along. At least for one night.”
“Joy!”
“And what’s wrong with people changing a little? I know that Adam tends to be a bit old-fashioned, but with some effort on your part, I’ll bet you can modernize his thinking.”
“I seriously doubt that.” Blythe picked up the two stacks of correspondence, handed one to Joy and carried the other toward the small office space at the back of the store.
Flipping through the mail, Joy followed Blythe. “If you’ve already made up your mind, I don’t understand why you agreed to have dinner with him.”
“I couldn’t think straight after he said he wanted to marry me. He took me off guard. I didn’t expect him to take the blame for what happened. It just never occurred to me that he really would want to be involved with the baby.”
Shaking her head, Joy sighted. “You really don’t know Adam at all, do you? Because he’s big, good-looking, very masculine and a real take-charge kind of guy he’s always reminded you of your stepfather. You never gave him a chance. Surely the night the two of you made love, you realized that Adam’s not like Raymond.”
Blythe tossed the stack of bills atop the desk beside the adding machine and computer printer. “I don’t think he’s just like Raymond. I know Adam would never verbally abuse his wife or dominate her so completely that she couldn’t think for herself, but—”
“But what?”
“But Adam and I are total opposites. He’d probably expect me to cook dinner every night and do his laundry and things like that. Marriage would be a mistake for us.”
“Are you sure?” Joy asked.
“I’m sure. There’s no way I’ll ever agree to marry Adam.”
“Blythe is pregnant, and you’re the father?” Craig Simpson’s eyes widened, his lips twitched and he coughed a couple of times trying to keep from laughing.
“What the hell’s so funny?” Adam paced around his office like a caged tiger. “I got a woman pregnant. And not just any woman, but Blythe Elliott.” Rolling his eyes heavenward, Adam shook his head. “The one woman on earth who hates my guts!”
“She must not have hated you the night y’all made love,” Craig said.
“I don’t know how she felt about me that night.” Adam raked his fingers through his thick, silver-streaked black hair. “I’ve gone over that night a thousand times in my mind. Even before Blythe’s revelation today, I’ve thought about what happened, trying to figure out why we wound up making love. One minute we were arguing, like we always do, then the next minute, a summer storm came up. She’d been crying a lot that day. I wanted to comfort her, and—”
“And the comforting got out of hand?”
“Something like that. It was as if we’d both become two different people, and we wanted each other so much we couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”
“Opposites attract. Just look at Joy and me.”
“Yeah, well, you and Joy were attracted to each other and liked each from the moment y’all met, and you two fell deeply in love. It wasn’t that way for Blythe and me.” Adam continued pacing back and forth from the wide expanse of windows behind his desk to the closed door that led to his secretary’s outer office.
“You and Blythe were attracted to each other from the very beginning, but instead of admitting it, you both fought it. That could be the reason y’all argue every time you’re around each other.”
“Blythe is not my type. I prefer women who like for a man to be a man. I want a woman who isn’t on the defensive all the time. A woman whose career isn’t more important to her than her marriage.” Adam slumped down in the chair behind his desk. “And I’m not her type, either. I remind her too much of her stepfather, whom she apparently despised.”
“So marriage is out of the question, huh?” Leaning his head back against the soft leather of the chair, Craig stretched out his legs in front of him.
“Not necessarily,” Adam said. “I think Blythe and I should marry. For the child’s sake. And to maintain our respectability. We both have business reputations to consider and we’re involved in community affairs. It would be a marriage in name only and we’ll divorce after the baby’s born. Then we’ll share custody.”
“Has Blythe agreed to all that?”
“Not yet, but I’m sure she will. After all, it’s a good deal for her. I’ll give our child my name as well as my love and financial support for the rest of his or her life. And I’ll be there throughout the pregnancy to take care of Biythe.”
“Blythe isn’t the type who’d accept a man’s offer to take care of her.” Craig laughed. “She’s very independent. Joy told me that once Blythe got away from her stepfather and mother, she refused to take anything from them. And Raymond Harold wasn’t a poor man. Blythe worked her way through college and has been totally self-supporting since she was eighteen.”
“Hey, it’s not as if I’m offering to keep her up for the rest of her life. I’ll have you draw up the papers. We’ll spell everything out in black and white so there won’t be any misunderstandings.”
“Sounds romantic to me.” Craig stared up at the coiling, missing Adam’s menacing glare.
“There’s nothing romantic about my relationship with Blythe and you know it. I got her pregnant so I intend to take care of the situation.”
“As I recall, you once told me that after what Lynn did to you, you had no desire to ever remarry.”
“Yeah, you’re right, but I also had no intention of getting a woman pregnant.”
“What if Blythe refuses your generous offer?” Craig asked. “She may decide that she can get along just fine without you and your money.”
“Oh, she’s going to marry me. And she’s going to agree to all the conditions. The divorce after the child is born. The generous child support. And joint custody. I’m not going to give her any choice.” Adam crossed his arms over his chest.
“It sounds like you don’t know Blythe Elliott very well if you think you can bulldoze right over her,” Craig said. “She’s not the type to take orders, especially from a man.”
“I’m not just any man. I’m the father of her baby. I have certain legal rights, don’t I?”
“I suggest you don’t mention anything about your legal rights to Blythe when you take her out to dinner this evening. Threatening her would be like waving a red flag in front of an angry bull.”
“I have no intention of making any threats as long as Blythe is willing to be reasonable, and I think she will be. After all, it’ll be in her best interest to marry me.”
“I’m not sure Blythe will see it that way.”
Leaning over and placing his hands, palms flat, atop his desk, Adam stared at Craig. “Make no mistake about it, Blythe is going to marry me. Neither of us planned on becoming parents, on having to share a child. I’m sure I’d be at the bottom of her list for possible father candidates, and I can’t see Blythe as a mother. She’s not nurturing and maternal the way Joy is.”
“Just take my advice, old buddy. Tread lightly where Blythe is concerned. If you push too hard, she’ll dig in her heels and fight you to the bitter end.”
“I’ll be my most charming self tonight, and I’ll make the mother of my unborn child an offer she can’t refuse.” Shoving back his chair, Adam stood, shot out his hand and grinned at Craig. “You’re going to be my best man. Let’s shake on it. I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know what date Blythe and I decide on tonight.”
Three
Blythe knew the minute she took a bite of the orange roughy that she was going to be sick. She’d been foolish to order the fish blackened, but it was one of her favorites. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to the idea of this terrible nausea hitting her at odd times of the day and night.
“Excuse me.” Shoving her chair away from the table, she stood quickly and made a mad dash through the dimly lit restaurant, only to stop short, realizing she had no idea were the ladies’ room was located.
Grabbing a startled waiter by the arm, Blythe felt a sour, burning taste rise in her throat. “Bathroom,” she gasped, almost afraid to open her mouth.
“Around the corner, to the right,” the wide-eyed young man replied.
Adam caught up with her just as she swung open the door marked Ladies. When he clasped her shoulder in his big hand, she jerked away from him.
“What the devil’s the matter?” he asked.
She didn’t have time for explanations. If she didn’t make it to a sink or commode within a couple of seconds, she would be barfing all over Adam’s sleek Italian loafers. She ran inside the rest room, siamming the door in his face.
Adam pounded on the door. “Blythe, are you all right?”
What the hell had happened? They had been eating a delicious meal and actually sharing a pleasant conversation about music. They’d discovered they both shared a love for good jazz. Then all of a sudden, Blythe’s face had turned a rather odd shade of greenish white and she’d run from the table as if she were being chased by demons.
“Blythe!”
“May I help you, sir?” a waiter asked.
“Not unless you can find a lady willing to go inside there to see what’s wrong with my date.”
“Is the young lady sick, sir?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I need someone to go in there and find out what’s going on.”
“Well, sir, I’ll see what I can do.” The waiter walked away.
“Blythe? For the love of Mike, woman, will you answer me!” Adam yelled.
He waited for what seemed like an eternity before an attractive brunette brusbed past him and opened the ladies’ room door.
“Ma’am.” Adam was too worried about Blythe to give a thought to appearing foolish to a stranger.
“Yes.” Turning, she smiled, her brown eyes surveying Adam from head to toe.
Any other time he would have been flattered by the woman’s blatant appraisal and obvious interest, but right this minute, his only thoughts were of Blythe’s well-being.
“My date seems to have taken ill. She’s in there, and I have no way of knowing whether or not she needs my help.”
The woman laughed. “Oh, I see. Tell me what your date looks like and I’ll check on her for you.”
“She’s a petite redhead. About five-two. And she’s wearing a black-and-white halter dress.”
“I’ll check on her.”
“Thanks.”
Adam waited a little longer, sweat popping out on his forehead and upper lip. Was it normal for pregnant women to act so strangely? he wondered. Of course, he’d heard about morning sickness, but it wasn’t morning now. It was after eight in the evening.
The brown-eyed stranger cracked open the rest room door, peeped out and motioned for Adam.
“Is she all right?” he asked.
“She’s been throwing up. She’s awfully sick. I took her a damp paper towel, but I swear she looks like she’s going to faint any minute now.”
Without considering the possible consequences of his actions, Adam shoved the bathroom door completely open and brushed past the brunette. The door to the middle stall stood open. Blythe leaned over the commode, retching.
Grabbing the wet paper towel out of her hand, Adam wiped her face with it. “Morning sickness in the evening? Dammit, Blythe, do you have to do everything backward?”
Gulping for air, she slapped at the arm Adam had draped around her shoulder. “Leave me alone.”
“I’m taking you home and we’re calling Dr. Meyers.”
“I’ll be all right. The nausea is better. I don’t think I’ll throw up again.”
“Come on, then.” Adam lifted Blythe in his arms. “You scared the devil out of me rushing off the way you did.”
“For goodness’ sakes, put me down.” The words came out in a whisper. Blythe noticed the tall, willowy brunette smiling at them as they passed her on their way out of the ladies’ room. “Have you lost your mind!”
Two waiters and the restaurant manager stood in the corridor.
“Is something wrong, Mr. Wyatt?” the manager asked. “How may we be of assistance?”
“Charge dinner to my credit card, and make sure there’s a nice tip included,” Adam said. “I’m afraid Ms. Elliott is experiencing a little upset stomach. I’m taking her home.”
“Oh, dear me. Surely there was nothing wrong with her meal,” the manager said.
“Not at all” The manager and both waiters followed Adam through the restaurant and out the front door. “My future wife and I are going to have a baby and she’s just suffering a little morning sickness at the wrong time of day.”
