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Authors: Judy Christenberry

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BOOK: The Last Bachelor
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She did so and waited.

With a kiss on her smooth cheek, he said, “Sorry, you didn't win. Here's another one.”

She stared at the coin he held out and then at him. “Why?”

“To try again. To see if you win.”

“But I didn't.”

“So you try again.”

“No! I will not give your money away.”

“But it's supposed to be fun.” He waved his arm. “All these people are playing the slot machines. Don't you want to?”

“No. A good wife does not give her husband's money away,” she assured him, a determined look on her face.

He sighed. “Okay, we'll try again later. Do you want to see a show?”

“What kind of show?”

He tried to explain what was available. The only thing she showed interest in were the famous white Bengal tigers, but that show was sold out.

Finally, he had an idea. “How about art? The Bellagio has an art gallery with famous paintings. Would you like to see them?”

Her eyes glowed. “Oh, I would love that. One day in New York I got to go to a museum. The paintings were beautiful.”

Joe shook his head in amazement and took his bride to the art gallery. Slowly they looked at the paintings. In college, Joe had studied art, along with architecture and in his spare time did some sketching. But he enjoyed the evening more than he had thought he would, mostly because Ginger liked looking at the paintings, too.

But he didn't think anyone else would believe him. A night in Vegas with no gambling, no alcohol and no sex. He'd ordered a bottle of champagne for their wedding supper, but Ginger had preferred Coca-Cola. No bright lights, big stars or crowds of people. Just art, whispered comments and privacy.

After the gallery, Ginger was ready to turn in. “Do you mind?” she asked. “I'm tired. So much has happened in two days.”

He put his arm around her shoulder and led her to the elevator. “You're right, honey. Will you be okay if I come back down for a while?”

“You like to gamble?” she asked, surprised.

“Sometimes.” Like when I have to leave you alone, he said to himself. Otherwise you couldn't keep me from your side.

With a cautious smile, she told him good-night once they were in the suite. He kissed her cheek and turned away. “I'll be back in a little while.”

She nodded and disappeared into the big bedroom.

Wearily, he turned away. He didn't want to gamble. But he'd go put in an hour on the slot machines, or maybe blackjack, to pass the time. Then maybe he could go to sleep without thinking about Ginger in the massive bed in the next room. Or, maybe more accurately, about
joining
her in the big bed.

He hadn't realized resisting temptation would be so difficult.

 

When Joe awoke the next morning, about nine, he showered and shaved, then dressed before discovering Ginger poring over a book in the living room.

“What are you reading?” he asked.

Ginger looked up in surprise. “Oh! I didn't know you were awake. I'm studying history. I have a test Tuesday night.”

He shook his head. That wasn't something he'd
brag about: his wife studying while on her honeymoon. “Ready for some breakfast?”

She agreed, though she said she'd eaten some fruit when she got up at seven.

“I thought you'd sleep late.”

“No, I usually get up at seven. Do you sleep late every morning?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I guess I just stayed up too late last night.” Actually, he'd stayed downstairs until the early morning, trying to tire himself out.

“Did you lose a lot of money?” she asked, that frown already in place.

“No, in fact I won.”

The frown disappeared, but she didn't show any greedy elation.

“So come on,” he urged her. “Let's get some breakfast. I can pay for it with my winnings.”

“I can pay for myself. I didn't pay my share for dinner last night.”

Joe huffed. “I'm the husband. I'll pay for our meals.”

“But that's not fair. You're helping me. You shouldn't have to pay.”

He studied her clear eyes, her earnest expression. Crossing to her side, he took her shoulders in his hands. “Ginger, if we're going to convince people that we are truly married, we're going to have to act like it. I'll pay for our living expenses. You'll take care of cooking occasionally, cleaning a little. That's how it works.”

“But—”

“No arguments.” With a sigh, he said firmly, “Honey, I'm an architect. I make a lot more money than you. I can afford to take care of you.” He turned her around to face the door. “Now, I want no more arguments about who's going to pay. Let's go get breakfast.”

By the time they'd had breakfast, packed up and got on the plane, Joe had a lot better picture of what he faced when he got his bride back to Mission Creek.

Heaven help him.

Three

J
oe called his mother when they changed planes in San Antonio. They were only a short flight from Mission Creek.

“Mom, it's Joe. Are you and Dad going to be home this evening?”

“Why, yes, dear. Where are you?”

“I'm in the San Antonio airport. I have someone I want you to meet. May we drop by in about an hour?”

“Of course. Will you have eaten?”

“No.”

“I'll have some food ready. Is this a friend from Chicago?”

“No, it's better than that, Mom. I'll see you in an hour.”

He hung up the phone and found Ginger staring at him. “What is it? Why are you upset?”

“Why did you tell your mother?”

“Well, actually, I didn't. We're going to surprise her,” he said with a big grin. His family would definitely be surprised. And he would be relieved. He'd told his family he'd never met a woman he wanted to marry. The truth of the matter was, he didn't think he'd ever want to risk his heart again. He'd been
betrayed when he first fell in love, and it had become a habit to avoid commitment. But marrying Ginger wasn't real. And she truly needed him.

“But I don't think we should tell your mother,” Ginger said.

Joe sighed. “Remember we agreed to talk and act like we're really married. We wouldn't keep it secret. It'll make my mother very happy, I assure you.”

“But she will be upset when we don't stay married.”

Joe looked around to be sure no one important had overheard Ginger's words. “Look, Ginger, you mustn't say things like that.”

She covered her lips and looked around, too. “Joe, I don't think we should've done this. I'm afraid you will get in trouble.”

Joe shook his head. “Too late. Come on, our plane is leaving.”

“But I'm very hungry,” she complained. “I can pay for—”

He swooped down and kissed her. Then, pretending touching her lips had been normal, he said, “No need. Mom is fixing a meal for us.”

Ginger wore a shocked expression on her face. He didn't think the kiss would elicit that much of a surprise. But in the future he was going to have to be careful, because kissing her, he'd discovered, was a real pleasure. He leaned closer, drawing in her scent. “Remember, we're married.”

He didn't give her a chance to respond. He took
her hand and led her to the gate where the small plane awaited.

Ginger sat quietly for the next forty-five minutes, greatly relieving Joe's mind. Once they settled into a routine, things would be easier. But they weren't there yet.

He'd left his car at the small airport. It took only a few minutes to reach it since their luggage was carry-on. Right on time, he pulled up to his parents' house. All the cars parked in front told him his brothers and their families were there, too.

He had to warn Ginger, though he knew she wouldn't like it. “Uh, Ginger, I think my entire family is here tonight. Remember we have to act like we're married.”

“You have a big family?”

“I have four brothers. I told you they're all married. Only one doesn't have any children yet, but his wife is expecting in two months. Just be careful what you say.”

She nodded, though she tightened her lips and set her shoulders, as if she were about to face a hostile crowd.

“And try to look happy,” he added, thinking she might burst into tears at any moment.

They got out of the car and he came to her side. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, of course.”

When they reached the front door, he hugged her close. “Everything's going to be great, honey.” He aimed a kiss for her cheek, but she turned to look at
him and his lips landed on hers. The contact surprised both of them. On impulse he pressed his mouth against hers, encouraging her to open to him, as if they were lovers. Even more surprising, Ginger didn't pull away. He pulled her closer, wanting more, and her arms wound around his neck.

He heard the front door open and his mother gasped several times. But he didn't care. He was kissing his wife.

“Joe! Who is this?” his mother asked.

He released Ginger, his gaze still on her face. “This is my wife.”

 

Ginger found herself the center of attention, as questions flew fast and furious around her. Joe's mother seemed happy, his father stared at her and the rest of the people, his brothers and their wives, wanted details.

“Where did you two meet?” one Turner wife asked.

Ginger replied, “At the country club.”

“Oh, are you a member, too? I haven't seen you.”

“No, I'm not a member. I work there as a waitress.” Though she figured that would upset everyone, she couldn't lie.

Another woman, who looked vaguely familiar, stepped forward. “Oh, you're the waitress who's so patient with the children.”

“You're right,” another woman said, then turned to Ginger. “I remember you now. I'm Amy, Bill's wife,” the woman said, holding out her hand.

As Ginger shook her hand, a man stepped up alongside Amy. “Hi, I'm Bill. I'm Joe's oldest brother.”

Ginger nodded. She stared as the other brothers sorted themselves out and introduced themselves and their wives.

“What's your last name?” someone asked.

She opened her mouth to say Walton when Joe intervened. “Turner, of course.”

Joe's father, who introduced himself as Ed, stepped forward. “Welcome to the family, Ginger. You're mighty pretty.”

“Th-thank you.”

His mother, Vivian, herded everyone to the dining room. “Come along now. I fixed a late dinner for these two and snacks for everyone.”

“Good. Ginger was starving in San Antonio. I know she'll be glad to eat,” Joe said, beaming.

Actually, Ginger's hunger had disappeared once she became the center of attention. But to be polite, she nodded and took Joe's hand and followed everyone else. As she looked at Joe, she wondered why he'd kissed her on the front porch. Had it been for show, or did it mean something to him? And would he repeat it?

Once all the adults were seated around the table, with the children playing in the living room within sight, the questions began again.

“See any good shows in Vegas?” one of the brothers asked.

Ginger looked at Joe, hoping he'd field the ques
tions. She was getting so nervous, she didn't think she could eat and talk at the same time.

“Nope. We were only there one night.”

“Too much to do, huh?” his brother responded, using his elbow to share the joke with his brother beside him.

Ginger didn't exactly understand what was so funny. Except that she was starving and too afraid to eat.

“Did you gamble?” one of the other brothers asked. Ginger looked at Joe, hoping he'd provide the answer again.

“Nope. Ginger was too concerned about losing her husband's money,” Joe told them with a grin. Then he added, “Hey, guys, give Ginger a chance to eat. She can't talk and eat at the same time.”

“Joe's right,” Vivian said. Then she turned to Ginger. “And I think you did the right thing, not gambling away Joe's savings.”

The other men roared with laughter. “Yeah, poor Joe, he's always broke,” one of them added.

Ginger was horrified. She stared at Joe. Why had he insisted on paying for everything?

“Let's change the subject,” Joe suggested. “What happened while we were gone? Any word on that stolen baby?”

Joe was sitting next to Ginger and he felt the tension rise in her even more. He hadn't thought anything would be more terrifying than his family. He looked at Ginger sharply as his father answered his question.

“No, no word on the baby. I'm beginning to think the mother stole her. Maybe changed her mind about giving her up.”

“No!” Ginger exclaimed. “No, she wouldn't do that!”

Everyone stared at her. Joe tried to think of something to say, but fortunately his sister-in-law Amy came to the rescue.

“I think Ginger's right. That's not something a mother would do. I agree, Ginger.”

“Me, too,” his mother agreed. “But I'm sure someone will find the baby soon, unless…”

Joe was afraid Ginger was going to cry, though he didn't know why. “Uh, did I tell you they're scheduling the reopening of the Men's Grill at the club for next Saturday? I'm proud of the work I did, along with Jenny. I hope you're all going to be there.”

Ginger looked at him. “Who is Jenny?”

Joe's eyebrows shot up. Ginger almost sounded like she was jealous. Maybe she had more acting ability than he'd thought. “Jenny Taylor. She's the interior designer who's been working on the Men's Grill with me.”

“Oh.”

Bill, Joe's longest-married brother, said, “Don't worry, Ginger. She's nice, but you're prettier. Besides, Joe chose you.”

Ginger tried to smile, but she wasn't very successful.

Joe slid his arm around her. “You bet I did. I've had my eye on Ginger ever since I got back.”

“You sure didn't let any of us in on it,” his father pointed out.

“I wasn't going to introduce her to my brothers until after I had a ring on her finger.”

“Oh, I forgot to look at your ring,” Kitty, his youngest sister-in-law, exclaimed.

Suddenly all the gazes in the room were fixed on Ginger's left hand. Ginger proudly wore the plain gold band Joe had bought her in Vegas, but Joe knew what to expect.

“What happened, Joe?” Bill exclaimed. “Did all your investments crash?”

Ed coughed, and Bill turned to look at him. “You're embarrassing the newest Mrs. Turner, son.”

Ginger looked at his mother, and Joe leaned over to whisper, “They're talking about you, sweetheart.” Then he couldn't help himself. He kissed her again, lightly this time, since everyone was looking.

“I'm planning on buying her some diamonds, but we did this so suddenly, I didn't want to buy diamonds in Vegas. I'll go to the jewelry store here in Mission Creek tomorrow.”

“You need any help, ask me, son,” Ed offered.

When his brothers all protested, Joe grinned and held up one hand to quiet them. Then he turned to his father. “No, Dad, I've got it taken care of.” Joe looked at Ginger, who sat silently.

As his brothers continued to tease him, Ginger said softly, “I don't need diamonds. Joe is—”

Afraid she was going to say the wrong thing, he
kissed her again. “Thanks, sweetheart. See, guys, I didn't marry a greedy woman.”

His mother congratulated him.

 

“Are you sure you don't want to spend the night here?” Vivian Turner asked one more time.

Joe had already refused her offer once, which was a great relief to Ginger. She wanted to go home and get ready for work tomorrow. She was exhausted.

“Thanks, Mom, but I think we'll get settled in. And thanks for dinner,” Joe said.

Ginger hurriedly thanked her also. Not that she'd eaten much. Her nerves were strung so tight, she couldn't. But she had peanut butter and crackers at home, which would hold her over until tomorrow.

Once inside the car, she lay her head back on the headrest, trying to calm down. All in all, she thought, the day hadn't gone too bad. Joe's parents and his brothers were nice people, good people, who had tried hard to make her comfortable. And she had been—until Ed mentioned the kidnapped baby.

Ginger hoped her reaction didn't red-flag anyone's attention. But she knew the baby's mother hadn't stolen her back. She knew because the baby's mother was her best friend and fellow waitress at the Lone Star Country Club, Daisy Parker.

She stole a glance at Joe, checking his facial expression, as if he could read her mind. His eyes were steadfastly on the road ahead.

Ginger recalled the day Daisy had confided in her that she was baby Lena's mother and had had no
choice but to leave the child on the golf course where she knew she'd be found, and then taken care of. Ginger hadn't judged her friend, only offered comfort to the obviously distraught woman.

She told no one about Daisy—with one exception—and she silently admonished herself for revealing the truth to a man who'd held her at knife-point in the lot of the country club a couple of months ago. But she'd been terrified and afraid for her life. Now, again, Daisy's secret was safe with her, she'd tell no one, not even Joe.

As if to steel herself in her vow, she took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh.

“You okay?” Joe asked. “It's been a long day. I bet you're exhausted. I'm sorry about all the commotion tonight. I'd thought it would just be Mom and Dad.”

“It was very nice,” she said, staring through the windshield.

“How about we go straight home tonight? Tomorrow we'll take care of things.”

“Yes, thank you.”

She wasn't sure what those things were, but she was ready to call it a night—until she realized Joe had missed the turn to her apartment.

“Where are we going? You needed to turn back there.”

“No, sweetheart. My condo is two more blocks ahead. I live in the Blue Shades complex.”

“But I do not!”

Joe sighed. “We're married. That means we live together.”

“But I don't have clean clothes. And I need my uniform for the morning,” she said firmly, feeling like an idiot for not realizing what was going to happen.

Joe turned at the next street corner and headed back the other way. “Okay, we'll go to your place and you can pack what you need for tomorrow. We'll get the rest of your stuff later.”

“Do you have enough room for me?”

He grinned at her. “I have a lot more room than you do. By the way, where do you sleep? I never saw a bed.”

“On the sofa. It's called a futon.”

He shook his head.

“What?”

“You'll have your own bedroom at my condo. I have three bedrooms, so it will be just fine. I promise.”

BOOK: The Last Bachelor
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