tion>
“I want you to marry me.”
Thad watched several emotions flicker across Macy’s face—surprise, incredulity, anger—but before she could settle on one, he added, “There would be a lot of benefits to the arrangement, for both of us. Before you say anything, just hear me out.”
“No.”
“No, you won’t hear me out? Or no, you won’t marry me?”
“No, period. Our ‘arrangements’ have gone far enough. Don’t you understand that what you want, what we’re doing—having a baby like this—makes a mockery of everything I believe in? You’ve reduced love, marriage and family to…to this. To nothing but emotionless agreements and practical considerations.”
Thad flinched. Love, marriage and family were just as sacred to him, maybe more so. “Think of the baby,” he said. “If we marry, the baby will have my name.”
“So we’d be married but we wouldn’t live together. Is that what you’re suggesting? A marriage in name only?”
Thad cleared his throat, certain Macy wouldn’t like this next part any more than she’d liked the first. “Actually, I was thinking we could live together. Just as roommates.”
“But why? What purpose could there possibly be in—Oh, I get it.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’d be protecting your investment.”
Dear Reader,
Sometimes someone touches your life, and you know that afterward, nothing will ever be the same. It’s incredible, when you think about it, that we have the power to make such a difference to those we meet. Katie, a mere child of five, made that kind of difference for me. As her Sunday school teacher, I watched her fight a battle against cancer. Her courage inspired me. Her death broke my heart. Her life gave me new appreciation for the ties that bind us all, for beauty and for love.
I wrote Baby Business during Katie’s last year. Though its characters are entirely fictional, I hope I’ve succeeded in my desire to share the magic that came from knowing her.
I’d love to hear from you. You can write me at P.O. Box 3781, Citrus Heights, CA 95611. Or simply log on to my Web site at www.brendanovak.com to send me an e-mail, enter my monthly draws, join my mailing list, check out my book signings or learn about my upcoming releases.
Here’s to love and to life!
Brenda Novak
Books by Brenda Novak
HARLEQUIN SUPERROMANCE
899—EXPECTATIONS
939—SNOW BABY
Baby Business
Brenda Novak
For Katie, because I believe in rainbows, too.
And for my own five children, Ashley, Megan, Alexa, Trey
and Thad, because they’re the reason I believe.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
“IS SHE the one?”
Startled, Thad Winters glanced up. Kevin, his best friend and partner in Winters-Brodey Advertising, stood in front of his desk, staring at the photograph of Macy McKinney that Thad had pulled out of a manila envelope. That same picture, showing a woman with wide green eyes, shoulder-length black hair and a mysterious Mona Lisa smile, had drawn his eye again and again—ever since it had arrived in the mail two days ago.
Was she the one? Thad could only hope. The sooner he found the right woman, the sooner he could make his way back to the man he used to be. “Who knows? They all look good at this point. It’s after Rychert finishes his little background check that things start to go downhill.”
Tall and pencil-thin, with a shock of dark hair that never seemed to lie down in back, Kevin shoved his hands in his pockets. He crossed to the wall of windows overlooking the jammed Salt Lake City streets—it was afternoon rush hour—twenty stories below. “Have you met her yet?”
“We have an appointment in fifteen minutes.” With a glance at his watch, Thad shuffled the papers on his desk, trying to appear busy. He didn’t want Kevin to stay. The interviews were difficult enough without an audience.
“So what are you doing? Advertising for women?” Kevin asked.
“No, a few discreet friends are asking around. That’s it.”
“Thank God for small favors. It’s starting to look like Toys “R” Us in here.” With his foot, Kevin nudged a life-size teddy bear that toppled over onto a box of chocolates. “How many have you interviewed?”
“I haven’t counted. A dozen maybe. Why?”
Kevin straightened, his usually good-natured expression strained. “Because I think you’re making a mistake.”
The mistake was made eighteen months ago by a drunk driver, but Thad wasn’t about to go into all that. Valerie’s death was still too painful to talk about—ironic considering she was all he ever thought about. The memories swirled around and around in his head until sometimes he could almost touch her, taste her, smell the perfume he’d given her their last Valentine’s Day.
Those memories preserved a small part of the heaven he and Valerie had known during their short marriage. They also introduced him to a whole new concept of hell. “And?”
Kevin sighed and rubbed his jaw. “Haven’t you learned anything from all this?” He waved his hand at the pile of gifts.
“I’ve learned that it isn’t going to be easy to find the one I’m looking for. And that some women can be far more aggressive than I ever would have dreamed.”
“You dangle a hundred thousand dollars in front of anyone, and you’re going to see their worst side. Why not give it some more time? Valerie’s only been gone eighteen months. You’ll fall in love again eventually.”
How many times had Thad heard those empty words? Why couldn’t anyone understand that he didn’t want to fall in love again? He wanted Valerie and their unborn child.
“I’ll make a note of your objection.” Thad tried to keep his voice flippant to cloak the anger that sometimes swelled, inexplicably, with the pain. “Anything else?”
Kevin stared at him a moment longer. “No, I’m leaving. But I wish you’d listen to me. This thing is destined to lead you into trouble.”
“Mr. Winters?”
A sultry voice pulled their attention to the open door, where the woman from the picture stood, both hands fidgeting with an oversize leather handbag.
“I’m