Debbie Macomber

The Manning Brides: Marriage of Inconvenience / Stand-In Wife


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then.”

      “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Rich said, bending to brush a wisp of dark brown hair from her temple. “There were plenty of signs that Pamela was playing me for a fool, too, but I was so taken with her—”

      “Bust line. Which was always your primary interest.”

      “That’s probably why I never dated you,” he countered, grinning.

      Jamie smiled. The joke was an old one between them. When they’d first been assigned to work together on the yearbook, Rich had been a popular football player and she’d been a nondescript bookworm. They’d clashed constantly. One day, after a particularly nasty confrontation, she’d shouted that if she had a bigger bust, he might actually listen to her. Rich had gone speechless, then he’d started to laugh. The laughter had broken the ice between them and they’d been friends ever since. The best of friends.

      “I hear there’s help in the form of surgery,” he teased, leveling his gaze at her chest.

      “Oh, honestly.” Her breasts weren’t that small, but it was comfortable and easy to fall into their old banter. Focusing on something other than what a mistake Tony had turned out to be provided her with a good—if momentary—distraction. She’d wasted an entire year of her life on him. An entire year!

      Rich reached for his coffee, then leaned back in the chair and sighed. “I’m beginning to wonder if anyone’s faithful anymore.”

      “I’m the last person you should be asking that,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee. She didn’t blame Rich for having doubts. Relationships all around her seemed to be failing. Friends, whose marriages had appeared strong and secure, were divorcing. At work affairs were rampant. Casual sex. Jamie was sick of it all.

      “When Mark Brooks cheated on my sister Taylor, she took that teaching position in another state,” Rich went on to say. “You know, I never much liked Mark. From the first I felt there was something off about him. I wish I’d spoken to Taylor about it.”

      “I felt so bad for her.”

      “The whole family was worried. Then she moved to the backwoods of Montana and a few months later, she married Russ Palmer. Everyone was sure she’d made a terrible mistake, marrying a cowpoke on the rebound, but I’ve never seen her happier. And now Christy’s married to Cody Franklin.”

      “Christy’s married to whom?”

      “The Custer County sheriff. She’s living in Montana, too.”

      “But I thought she was engaged to James Wilkens! Good grief, I was at her engagement party just a few months ago.”

      “It’s a long story, but James is out of the picture.”

      “Christy dumped James?” It was hard to believe. Jamie had assumed they were perfect for each other. They’d acted like the ideal couple at the engagement party, sipping champagne and discussing wedding dates with their families.

      Rich chuckled. “If you’re surprised by that, wait until you hear this. While Christy was still engaged to James, she was married to Cody.”

      Jamie was shocked. She didn’t know Rich’s youngest sister well, but she would never have imagined Christy doing anything so underhanded. “I am surprised.”

      “There were mitigating circumstances and it’s not as bad as it sounds, but Christy is yet another example of how fickle women can be.”

      “Women?” Jamie protested. “Men are notoriously untrustworthy—they always have been.”

      It looked as though Rich wanted to argue. He straightened and opened his mouth, then shook his head. Sighing, he drank the last of his coffee. “I’ve begun to think commitment means nothing these days.”

      “I hate to be so cynical, but I agree.”

      Standing, Rich carried his mug to the kitchen sink. “Are you going to be able to sleep now?”

      Jamie nodded, although she wasn’t convinced. However, she’d taken enough of Rich’s time for one night and didn’t want to keep him any longer.

      “Liar,” he whispered softly.

      Jamie smiled and got up, too. He slipped his arms around her and she laid her cheek against his shoulder. It felt good to be held. Rich’s comfort was that of a loving friend, someone who truly cared about her without the complications of romance or male-female dynamics.

      “You’re going to get through this.”

      “I know,” she whispered. But she hadn’t been confident of that until she’d talked to Rich. How fortunate she was to have him as her friend. “We both will,” she added.

      A sigh rumbled through Rich’s chest. “Don’t you wish life could be as simple now as it was in high school?”

      That remark gave Jamie pause. “No,” she finally said, then laughed. “I was so shy back then.”

      “Shy?” Rich argued, releasing her enough to cast her a challenging look. “You were a lot of things, Jamie Warren, but shy wasn’t one of them.”

      “Maybe not with you.”

      “I wish you had been, then you might’ve done things my way without so much arguing.”

      “You’re still upset that I didn’t use your picture on the sports page, aren’t you? We’ve been out of high school for thirteen years and you haven’t forgiven me for using that shot of Josh McGinnes instead.”

      Rich chuckled. “I could be upset, but I’m willing to let bygones be bygones.”

      “I’m glad to hear it.” She led him to the door of her condo. “Seriously, though, I really am grateful you came.”

      “Call if you need me?”

      She nodded. The worst of it was over. She would pick up the pieces of her life and start again, a little less trusting and a whole lot more wary.

      Two months later, Rich was sitting in his office at Boeing when the image of Jamie Warren’s tear-streaked face drifted into his mind. It was as if their conversation had taken place just the night before—even though he’d talked to her two or three times over the holidays, and she’d sounded good. Cheerful, in fact. Certainly in better spirits than he’d been himself.

      She hadn’t made any attempt to fool him. Tony had hurt her badly. From what she’d said, he’d made several attempts to resume their engagement, but she’d rejected the idea in no uncertain terms. It was plain to Rich that Tony Sanchez didn’t really know Jamie Warren. The woman was stubborn enough to impress a mule. Once she made up her mind, that was it. Oh, she appeared docile and easygoing, but Rich had collided with that stubborn streak of hers a time or two and come away battered and bruised.

      It bothered Rich that Jamie had never married. She’d always loved children, and he’d fully expected her to have a passel of kids by now.

      Most men, he realized, passed Jamie over without a second glance. That bothered him even more.

      The problem, not that he’d call it a problem, was that she didn’t possess the looks of a beauty queen. She wasn’t plain, nor was she unappealing. She was just—he hated to admit it—ordinary. Generally, there was one thing or other that stood out in a woman. A flawless face. Cascades of shining hair, blond or gold or black … Jamie’s wasn’t blond and it wasn’t brunette but somewhere in between. And it wasn’t long, but it wasn’t short either. Some women had eyes that could pierce a man’s soul. Jamie had brown eyes. Regular brown eyes. Not dark or seductive or anything else, just brown eyes. Nice, but average.

      She was about five-five, and a little on the thin side. Giving the matter some consideration, Rich noted that there didn’t seem to be any distinguishing curves on her. Not her hips, and certainly not her breasts. He could be mistaken of course, since he hadn’t really looked at her that way….