Reluctantly Married

Reluctantly Married

Copyright © 2015 by Victorine E. Lieske. All rights reserved.

Print ISBN: 978-1-5061-8159-2

First Kindle Edition: January 2015

Editor:
Cherise Kelley

Cover and Formatting:
Blue Valley Author Services

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.

Victorine E. Lieske

PO Box 3

Seward, NE 68434

www.victorinelieske.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

Acknowledgments

I’m so grateful for all of the wonderful people in my life that have helped this book come to be. My husband, who lets me run off to writer’s group meetings and conferences. My editor, Cherise Kelley, who does such a fantastic job. And of course all of my Muse sisters, Gina Barlean, Lisa Kovanda, Charlie Volnek, Dee Feeken Schmidt, Mary Unger, Kathy Gilmore, Sabrina Sumsion, and Bev Teche. I couldn’t write without you guys!

1

M
egan dug her fingernails into
her palms and stared at her co-host, Adam, while the camera zoomed in on her. She couldn’t believe what he’d said. He flashed his white teeth, waiting for her answer. What could she say to him that wouldn’t get her kicked off the morning show? She swallowed the saliva gathering in her mouth and forced a smile. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Come on, Megan. Don’t you think it’s true that single women who pour all their energy into their careers are just trying to hide the fact that they don’t have what it takes to get a man?” His demeaning smile widened, and she fought the urge to smack him.

He was baiting her. Again. On live television. What a colossal jerk. She shifted in the cheap upholstered chair and crossed her legs. “Why no, Adam. That would be like saying men who pour their money into expensive cars are simply trying to hide the fact that they’re not as intelligent as the women they work with. What kind of car do you drive again?”

Adam’s pride and joy was his fully restored 1968 Mustang convertible. His baby. Probably paid almost as much for it as his little dump of a house just outside of town.

Dale, the camera man, smirked and pulled back so the audience could see Adam’s jaw muscles tightening. For a brief moment, Megan thought he might lose his cool, but he raised an eyebrow and put on his ‘I’m too sexy for you’ face. “Why Megan, I do believe you’re flirting with me.”

She laughed, keeping her tone light. “Only in your dreams.”

Adam turned to the camera, his award-winning smile in place. “I’m afraid we’re out of time. Tune in tomorrow for our guest, relationship specialist Dr. Lemon.” He glanced at her. “Maybe she’ll have some pointers for you, Megan.”

She gritted her teeth but kept her smile in place. “I can’t wait.”

The ‘on-air’ light went out, and Dale took off his headphones. “Nice show. You really played it up this time.”

Megan stood, ripped off her microphone, and stalked off set. If she stayed, she couldn’t be held responsible for what might fly out of her mouth.

“Wait.” Adam ran after her and grabbed her arm. “You’re not mad, are you? It was Leon’s idea.” She had to hand it to him. He actually looked concerned.

Heat burned her cheeks, and she straightened to her full five foot six, squirming out of his grasp. “You are such a jerk. And a coward. Blaming the producer? Really?”

Leon came waltzing in, rubbing his hands together. “Great show! Our website is blowing up. You wouldn’t believe the comments!”

Megan narrowed her eyes. “When I joined the show six months ago, I wasn’t signing up for daily humiliation.”

Leon put on his best apologetic face, which frankly was about as sincere as a dead fish. “Our audience loves you, Megan. The comment about Adam’s car? Priceless!”

“It’s only an on-air persona. Nothing personal.” Adam flashed a grin, which made her want to punch him in the face.

She resisted the impulse to quit and walk off the set. Unfortunately, she needed the job. It wasn’t much, but there was a possibility of growth. The show was getting recognition. And she hated to admit it, but the sparks between her and Adam had pushed the popularity up.

Biting back words she might regret, she stared at Leon. He looked like he’d stepped out of a cheesy 70’s movie. With a large handlebar mustache and shaggy hair, it was hard to take him too seriously. She sighed. “Just tone it down, okay?”

The men nodded like bobble-headed idiots. Leon grinned. “Sure.”

She suspected he’d tell her anything to deflect her anger. Without further comment, she grabbed her purse, left the set, and headed to the parking lot. Before she applied for the position of co-host on the morning show, Wake Up with Adam Warner, she’d watched several episodes. Adam had seemed like a regular guy. Why he’d become a chauvinistic pig the moment she stepped onto the set was beyond her.

That wasn’t true. She knew why. Ratings. The first week on the job, he’d used the word ‘mankind’ and she had gotten riled up about it. She’d argued for the use of a more gender-neutral ‘humankind’ instead. Her mistake was clear to her now. That little fight went viral online. Leon jumped on it.

She opened the driver’s side door and slid into her 1990 Honda Accord. She inserted her key and turned the ignition. The car cranked, but the engine wouldn’t start. She tried twice more before giving up. Of course. She blew out a frustrated breath. Served her right. It had been her grandmother’s car. She’d inherited it when her grandmother passed. Megan couldn’t bear to trade it in, even though it was on its last legs. The fond memories of driving through the country on lazy Sunday afternoons and of the talks they had shared were too much to give up.

A knock on her window made her jump. Adam leaned over and peered at her through the glass. His ice blue eyes caught her off guard, and her heart sped up. He really was handsome. His chiseled cheekbones and strong jaw line would make any woman swoon. He even had dimples. Too bad he was a pig. She rolled the window down.

“Having car trouble?” His eyebrows pulled together in concern.

Megan would rather walk the five miles home than admit anything to him. “Nope. Everything’s fine.”

He stared at her for a moment before folding his arms across his broad chest. “Start ‘er up then.”

Despite the cool spring morning, heat crept up her neck. “I actually was going to sit here for a minute and read.” She glanced around for something with words on it. A pamphlet lay on the passenger seat. When she was leaving the house yesterday she’d tossed it in the car and ignored it. She grabbed it and waved it at him. “This looked interesting.”

He raised an eyebrow, and the corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile. “You in need of their services?”

She stared at the pamphlet, the heat now warming her cheeks. In big bold letters, it read ‘Male Pattern Baldness: We’ll help you fight it.’ She coughed, choked, pounded on her chest, and then regained her composure. “My dad suffered from this. Before he died.”

Adam let out a chuckle, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and his insufferably cute dimples showing.

“It’s not funny. This pamphlet says that it affects seventy-three percent of the male population.”

His smile faded. “Just admit your car won’t start and you need some help.”

She exhaled in exasperation and chucked the pamphlet back onto the seat. “All right. It won’t start. But I don’t need any help, I already know what the problem is.”

“And what’s that?”

“I need a new car.”

His laugh spread over her like warm butter, making her insides melt. He opened her door. “Let’s take a look.” He reached down and popped her hood, then strode to the front of her car. “Now, try again.”

Same thing, the car cranked but didn’t start. Adam frowned. “It could be your fuel pump or maybe the spark plugs.”

She sighed. “Great.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard to fix. I’ve got some errands to run, but I can stop by later with my tools.” He shut the hood and rubbed his hands together.

“Wait, what? You’re going to fix it for me?” Since when was he Mr. Knight-in-Shining-Armor?

He shrugged. “Won’t be difficult.”

She narrowed her eyes. What did he want from her? Why was he suddenly being so nice? She didn’t want to owe him anything. “You don’t have to.”

He cocked his head at her, the slight smile on his face growing sexy. “I know.” The spring breeze picked up, and the scent of his cologne filled her car. She had to admit he smelled good. His smile grew as he reached out his hand to her. “Come on. I’ll give you a ride home. I promise not to bite.”

She waited for the obvious “…at least not too hard,” but it never came.

“Fine.” After grabbing her purse and slamming the door, she crossed the parking lot toward his flashy black convertible. She couldn’t imagine what he’d spent on it. Who would even own a car like that? Men who didn’t care about settling down and having a family, that’s who. Men like Adam, who saw women as nothing more than conquests.

He opened her door for her, and she bristled. Yes, he definitely wanted something from her. Whatever it was, he wasn’t going to get it. She plopped down in the seat and quickly shut the door.

Adam slid onto the driver’s seat and started the engine. “Do you mind if we stop by my place? I need to check on a raccoon.”

There it was. Some weird excuse to take her to his house. Of course, she should have known what he was trying to do. She wasn’t going to fall for it. “Check on a raccoon? Really? That’s the best you could come up with?” She folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t want to check your raccoon, whatever that means. Couldn’t you just do something nice for once, without ruining it with your sick innuendos?”

He squinted at her. “What are you talking about?”

The genuine confusion on his face gave her pause. Maybe she’d misunderstood. “What are
you
talking about?”

“I volunteer at the Nebraska Wildlife Rehab. A young raccoon was injured in an animal trap. I’m nursing it back to health.” He looked at her like she’d sprouted horns.

Heat crept up her neck again. “Oh.”

He lifted one eyebrow and fought back a smile. “What exactly did you think I meant?”

A full-body blush enveloped her, and she avoided his gaze. “Nothing. I mean, I don’t know.”

“Okay,” he said, the grin taking over his face. A low chuckle came from deep in his chest. He pulled out onto the street. “It won’t take long. I just need to check the bandage and make sure he’s got enough water. You can wait in the car if you’d like.”

Embarrassment made her squirm. Maybe she’d pegged him all wrong. Jumped to the wrong conclusions. He didn’t seem to be the jerk she’d imagined him to be. He saved baby animals, for Pete’s sake. How could she hate that? She swallowed and stared at her hands. “Would you mind if I came in to see him?”

He glanced at her, appraising her. “Not at all.”

They rode in silence until they had to slow down for the small downtown district of Sugar Springs. The cool breeze carried the light scent of lilacs and fresh rain. Megan repressed the urge to remove her clip and let her hair down.

Ten minutes later, they pulled up to Adam’s house. The small farmhouse stood nestled between two large oak trees. The white paint had seen better days, curling and peeling up from the wooden siding where the sun peeked through the shade. The front porch railing hung in disrepair. A detached garage stood a few feet from the house, but he parked in the sun. He got out of the car and ran to her side to open her door. “He’s in back.”

A young golden retriever bounded up to the car, barking. Adam rubbed the puppy’s head, getting down on the dog’s level. “Hey, buddy. Whatcha’ doing over here? You shouldn’t run away like that.”

“Whose dog is that?”

“The neighbor’s. But he keeps sneaking away and coming over here.” He scratched the dog’s neck while receiving puppy licks all over his face. “Yes, you’re just a naughty boy, aren’t you?”

Megan laughed. “You really punish him, huh? No wonder he keeps sneaking over here.”

“You’re right. I can’t help it though.”

She glanced around the stretch of land. “No dog of your own?”

He stood, sobering. “No,” he said simply. Adam sent the dog back in the direction he’d come.

A stone path led them around the house to an old barn. He opened the door and flipped on a switch. Megan was surprised to see the barn had electricity and a cement floor. It was quite clean inside. Several large empty cages lined one wall. A sink and a refrigerator took up another. Adam crouched next to a smaller cage, opened the door, and gingerly picked up a baby raccoon. A bandage covered what was left of his right front leg, barely a nub.

The animal sleepily snuggled into Adam’s large chest as he examined the bandage and then refilled the water dish. Megan exhaled. “He’s adorable.”

Adam stepped closer. “Do you want to hold him?”

“He won’t go all raccoon-crazy on me and scratch my eyeballs out, will he?”

He chuckled, a sound she was beginning to enjoy. “No. The little guy’s nocturnal, this is his nap time. Plus, he’s on pain killers, so he’s extra lethargic.”

As he came closer, Megan became aware of Adam’s strong build and masculine scent. Maybe it was the fact that he had a cute baby animal in his arms, or that he was going to fix her car this afternoon, but her heart sped up, and she had trouble breathing. She shook it off. This was totally unacceptable. She could not be falling for Adam Warner, her pig of a co-host.

She gently took the raccoon in her arms and stroked his fur. “I had no idea they were this soft.”

Adam nodded. “We call this one Stumpy.”

Megan stepped back. “No, you can’t. You’ll hurt his little raccoon feelings.”

He let out another laugh that spread warmth through her. “You’re kidding me.”

She allowed a smile to show on her face. “Maybe. But I still think he’s too cute for an ugly name like that. How about Champ?”

He wrinkled his nose. “That sounds like the name of a Great Dane or a Greyhound.”

“You’re right.” She peered down at the coloring on his little face. “What about Bandit?”

“Perfect.” Adam’s smile was pleasant. Affectionate. Not like when they were on camera. It messed with her head.

She turned away. “How often do you take in animals?”

“It varies. Sometimes I have four or five at a time. Other times, just one.”

Another minute passed while she stroked the raccoon, then she handed him back to Adam. He laid him on the blanket in the cage and fastened the door.