If the Stick Turns Pink.... Carla Cassidy

suspiciously. “What do you mean forget about it?” She had capitulated far too easily.

      “Just what I said, forget I mentioned the whole idea. We’ll tell everyone SueEllen got it wrong and we aren’t engaged, and I’ll figure out another way to get what I want.”

      “What are you talking about?”

      Her gaze darted to a point on the wall just over his head. “I want a baby, Bailey.” Her green eyes sought his once again. “I’m tired of playing the favorite aunt to my nieces and nephews. I’m financially stable and emotionally ready to become a mother. I’m sure I can find somebody here in Foxrun to be a sperm donor, so to speak.”

      “Like who? I can’t even believe we’re having this conversation.”

      “I don’t know why you’re so surprised. I’ve been talking about wanting a child for months now.”

      “Yeah, but I thought it was kind of like me talking about wanting a Jaguar. You know, it would be nice if I got one, but right now it’s pretty much out of the question.”

      “But me getting pregnant isn’t out of the question,” she protested. “It’s just a matter of picking which man in Foxrun I’m going to sleep with.”

      “Like who? I know Fred Ketchum has a hot crush on you. Sleep with him and your kid will look like a werewolf.”

      She laughed. “Fred is all right. He can’t help it that he’s unusually hairy. But you’re right, I’m not sure I’d want his DNA in any child of mine.” She took another sip of her coffee, then continued. “But, there is Buck Walton. I’m sure Buck wouldn’t mind a couple of rolls in the hay with me.”

      “Oh, yeah, you’d definitely want his DNA,” Bailey said dryly. “If the kid takes after his father he’ll be swilling beer by the time he’s two and will have a vocabulary of four-letter words that will astound the world.”

      “Why are you being so negative?” she asked impatiently.

      “Why are you so set on doing this?” he countered. The whole discussion of who she would choose to sleep with was irritating him.

      She twirled a strand of her shiny hair between two fingers, a familiar gesture that told him she was concentrating. “Bailey, you and I both know what it’s like to be raised by older parents. Goodness knows, we’ve talked about it often enough.”

      He nodded. It was true. It had been one of their common complaints when growing up. Both Mellie’s and his parents had been older when they had been born and they had spent many hours complaining about the fact that their parents were so much older than their friends’ parents.

      “If I wait for love and romance and eventually marriage and pregnancy, I’m going to be retired by the time my child is graduating from high school.”

      “Is your sister pregnant again?”

      The telltale blush that momentarily stole over her face gave him his answer. Mellie’s sister, Linda, was nothing short of a baby factory, producing a baby a year for the past four years.

      “Yes, but that has nothing to do with my decision to get pregnant,” she replied tersely.

      He knew better. He knew that each new baby born into the Watters family had increased Mellie’s desire for a child of her own.

      Before he could reply, he spied MaryAnn Bartel entering the diner. She was dressed to kill in a pair of tight black jeans and a hot-pink midriff top the size of a bandage. Her eyes widened in delight at the sight of him, and he steeled himself for yet another encounter with a mad cow contestant.

      “Bailey,” she squealed, her thick perfume reaching him before she did. Her smile faltered as she saw Melanie. “Oh, hi, Melanie. So, it’s true? The two of you are engaged?”

      Bailey knew now was his chance to set the record straight, to explain to MaryAnn that the rumor about him and Melanie was false. But he saw the light of fanaticism in her bright blue eyes, the tiny sparkles in their depths appearing like tiny tiaras.

      He had a sudden vision of his life in the next six weeks, a life inundated with stress because of the stupid Miss Dairy Cow Contest. He also thought of his mother, who had become an irritating broken record on the topic of wanting a grandchild.

      A temporary marriage to Mellie would solve a host of problems. There would certainly be no surprises with Mellie. He knew her as well as he knew himself, and he couldn’t imagine anything ruining their friendship, not even a marriage, a pregnancy and a subsequent divorce.

      “It’s true,” he said, and saw the surprise that lit Mellie’s eyes. He smiled at her, hoping that neither of them came to regret the split-second decision he’d made to follow through on her crazy scheme.