The Groom Came C.o.d.

“No, I intend to have several cups of strong, ink-black coffee. Then I’m going to get dressed and try to go to work. If you insist, I’ll get back to you later.”

“You mean that’s not your working outfit?” His gaze roamed over her with blatant honesty. It was obvious he liked what he saw and was man enough to show it. She shook her head and fought off an urge to cover herself. It was her territory, wasn’t it?

“Too bad.” He glanced at the mahogany staircase. “You live here?”

Melinda nodded carefully. “With my Aunt Bertie. She owns the shop.” The dull ache in her head had turned into a crescendo of pain. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her holding her head to keep it from falling off. Things were bad enough.

His gaze swung back to her. He glanced at the newspaper and raked his fingers through his hair. “I hope you realize you may have blown it big time. How are you going to get us out of this mess.”

“There is no ‘us,”’ she protested. “It was all a mistake. I’m sure everyone will understand when I tell them so. Now, please leave. I honestly can’t discuss this right now.”

He stepped closer, his now hard blue eyes bore into hers. “Well, I can. Why don’t you start at the beginning of this mess and give me the whole nine yards.”

“It’s a long story,” she said. “But honestly, I’m in no condition to discuss it. Not right now. I’ll get back to you.”

“You’re in no condition?” he barked. “You call it a mistake, but how do you think I feel? I’ve acquired a fiancée and a wedding date with a bride I don’t even know!”

“Please,” Melinda protested. She massaged her temples. “I have a terrible headache. You’ll have to wait. I’ll do something about it. I just don’t know what.”

Her heart skipped a beat when his gaze softened.

“Okay. I’m willing to compromise. Go ahead and have your coffee. But after you’re through I expect you to call the newspaper and retract the announcement. But I warn you, we’re not through talking.”

Melinda closed her eyes and swallowed hard. How could she carry on an intelligent conversation, let alone try to convince him she had all her marbles when she wasn’t all that sure herself? What she needed was to have time to figure out a way to undo the mess she was in.

So much for raging hormones.

Her head pounded. She tried to put one and one together. Before she’d left to rescue a client and her allergic fiancé, she must have pressed the enter button on her computer! Her fantasy wedding plans must have gone into action, including the newspaper announcement. She peered at Ben through a mist of pain. High school sweethearts, of all things! No wonder Ben looked ready to throttle her.

She was heartsick. How could she have gotten so careless as to chose Ojai’s most eligible bachelor for a fantasy husband—even by mistake?

Things got even worse when she envisioned the orders she must have placed and supplier’s cancellation penalties to follow. And, horror of horrors, the public apology it looked as if she would have to make before Ben was satisfied.

“As long as you insist, come on in the kitchen,” she said over her shoulder. “I’ll put on the coffee, but I don’t guarantee it won’t taste like mud.”

“Good! I could use something strong right now. You have no idea of the mess you’ve created or the attention I’m bound to get because of it.”

Sure, Melinda thought to herself. The number of disappointed women who had set their hopes on winning Ben for a husband were bound to be legion. Considering that he hadn’t been in a hurry to take any of them up on it, maybe he should have been grateful to her for getting him off the marriage market.

She was ready to tell him so when the sound of footsteps coming down the wooden stairs interrupted her. Her aunt Bertie tripped into the kitchen.

“Ah, there you are, Benjamin!” She cocked her head to one side and smiled at Ben and Melinda. “How sweet of you to come over early to see your fiancée.”

Fiancée? Ben hesitated. The word made his hackles rise, but considering who he was talking to, he bit back the words he was tempted to say. “Not really, Ms. Bertie. I came as soon as I discovered your niece and I had a lot to discuss.”

He felt himself blush like a teenager when she smiled and glanced at the newspaper crushed in his hand. “I must tell you how good I felt to see your pending wedding announcement in there! Frankly,” she said with an admiring glance at Ben, “I didn’t even know you and Melinda were seeing each other, let alone planning to wed. How romantic.”

Ben nodded politely, but his mind cringed at the timing of Bertie’s entrance. This was no time to finish reading Melinda the riot act. Nor was it a good time to insist she call the newspaper with a retraction. He’d have to wait until the excitement died down before he had a calm and serious heart-to-heart talk with her. Before he was through, she’d never pull a fool stunt like this again.

As for Bertie, she was a staunch supporter of the high school’s athletic teams and the basketball team just as he was. She’d baked her famous chocolate-chip cookies for the high school’s fund-raisers as far back as when he’d been a kid. He owed her respect.

Her niece—well, that was another story. He should have been angry with Melinda, but somehow he wasn’t any longer.

He glanced over at Melinda. In spite of her headache, with her blond hair caught back in a ponytail and dressed in a brief outfit that revealed as much as it concealed, she looked as fresh and pretty as a spring sunrise.

“I’m so happy for you both,” Bertie cried when he bit his lip. “Especially for you, Melinda. I know you tried to keep the wedding a secret, but the truth is that I’ve known about it since Friday.” She beamed proudly.

“How could you have known? I didn’t tell anyone!” Melinda’s heart took a dive at the innocent smile that came over her aunt’s face. The premonition she wasn’t going to like her aunt’s answer was as strong as the anvil beating in her head. “How did you find out?”

“Martha Ebbetts called me when she got the e-mail message.” She beamed at Ben. “I’m sure you know that Martha is the society editor of the Ojai Newsday. Anyway, Martha called here Saturday. When she heard Melinda wasn’t home she asked me for some filler for her article.”

“Filler?” Melinda gasped.

“Article, Ms. Bertie?”

“Yes, of course. Martha wanted to add some human interest to the announcement. I was thrilled to be able to oblige.”

“Aunt Bertie—you didn’t! Tell me you didn’t tell Martha anything!”

Ben glanced over at Melinda. The water in the coffeepot she held in her hand sloshed over the brim. Her face had turned white. Hell, she looked ready to faint again. He sprang into action, grabbed the glass coffeepot, put it on the sink and threw his arm around her shoulders. “Just what was it you told Martha Ebbetts, Ms. Bertie?”

Melinda’s aunt put a forefinger to her lips and appeared to think for a minute or two. By the time she was ready with an answer, he was a nervous wreck.

“Why, I just told Martha you’ve known knew each other since high school. I was right about that, wasn’t I?”

Ben swore under his breath. Bertie looked so innocent, it was hard for him to believe she could be serious. Considering she’d known him as a high school student, she must have known he and Melinda were practically strangers. “Maybe, but that’s a long way from being sweethearts, wouldn’t you say?”

Bertie smiled happily. “Martha wanted to spice up the story a wee bit. Calling you childhood sweethearts does tend to make the story more romantic, don’t you think?”

He heard Melinda groan softly. From long experience as a local businessman, he knew exactly what she was thinking. If anyone could pump up a story and turn it into a fairy tale, it was the legendary Martha Ebbetts, a contemporary of Bertie’s. But one thing was clear; whatever else Melinda had done, at least she hadn’t labeled them high school sweethearts.

“You have no idea just how the announcement is going to sound to some people, Ms. Bertie. Or what a few of them might think when they get around to reading it,” he added slowly. “But I suppose there’s not much I can do about it now.” He glanced at the stack of bridal magazines on the kitchen table and became aware of the soft music that was filtering through the intercom. Coupled with the bridal paraphernalia that filled the front rooms, the house was a potential hotbed for hopeless romantics. What else should he have expected from Melinda and her aunt?

Bottom line, he didn’t intend to be caught up in a fantasy wedding, harmless or not. Let alone one Melinda had apparently broadcast to the world on the Internet! When things calmed down, he intended to take care of whomever had put him on that damn Web site she talked about.

Melinda broke the silence. By nature, the last thing she wanted to do was to hurt anyone. Including Ben, who was after all an innocent party to her mistake. “It was all a mistake, Aunt Bertie. Ben and I aren’t engaged to be married, honest.”

Her aunt tittered. “A wedding is a poor thing to joke about, dear.”

“I’m not joking, Aunt Bertie.” Melinda glanced at Ben for support. This time he was listening, thank goodness.

“I’m afraid I was playing around with my wedding fantasy on the computer,” Melinda explained. “I planned the whole wedding, including the announcement to the newspaper.” She ran a trembling hand over her forehead. “I wasn’t aware I’d set my daydream into action until Ben showed up. But now that we know what happened, why don’t we all just forget it and go on? I’ll try to think of a way to correct my mistake.”

“I wish, but I’m afraid it’s not that easy. Not after the newspaper announcement,” Ben muttered as he envisioned the telephone calls waiting for him when he got home. Calls from his country club friends—hell, he could handle those by treating it all as a joke. The expected telephone call from his uncle Joseph, was something else. His uncle, his only remaining relative, had been after him to remarry. He’d have to think fast to keep from disappointing him one more time.

Ben paced the floor, his thoughts in turmoil. He couldn’t think of a damn suggestion to help Melinda straighten out the mess she’d made of things. But first things first. “You’ll have to call Martha Ebbetts and retract the story. The sooner the better. I’ll try to think of some kind of alibi as to why we’re calling off the wedding.”

“Absolutely not,” Bertie broke in briskly. “Any cancellation of the wedding would bring you both bad luck. No matter how it started, I believe this wedding was destined to happen or Melinda wouldn’t have pushed that whateveryoucallit button on the computer. As for what prompted her to do it, maybe a higher and wiser power than we was behind it.”

“Aunt Bertie! You can’t possibly be serious!”

“I certainly am,” her aunt replied firmly. “One ought not to argue with destiny, you know,” she warned, shaking her finger at Melinda. “Besides, I’ve always been fond of you, Benjamin. I think a marriage between you and Melinda is a splendid idea.”

“Thank you, and I appreciate the way you feel. But this wedding business is something different.” Ben cringed inside. He had mental visions of Aunt Bertie baking a mountain of chocolate-chip cookies for the wedding. As for her regaling wedding guests with stories of his days as the star of the high school’s basketball team, there were a few escapades he would rather forget. It was time to set the record straight even if he was tempting fate.

“The truth is, I don’t want to be any part of this.” He shot Melinda a hard look that belied his earlier softening. “I have my reasons for asking you to call off this so-called wedding. The sooner the better.”

“I wish I knew how,” Melinda said over her aunt’s protests. “No matter what I do, it’s going to raise a lot of questions.” She bit her bottom lip. “Maybe we ought to go through a pretend ceremony?”

“No way! As a matter of fact, I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life,” he answered grimly. “The wedding is off!”

At the final note in Ben’s voice, Melinda felt more miserable than ever. It wasn’t only her headache that wouldn’t allow her to think clearly, it was Ben. The star basketball player in high school had been happy-go-lucky, full of innocent fun and laughter. And very aware of his sexy impact on all the girls. To her dismay, he had the same impact now. “You’re sure you want me to call everything off?”

“Damn sure.”

Visions of more problems for the struggling bridal shop once her retraction was out tumbled through Melinda’s mind. She’d be the laughing stock of Ojai.

She started to explain again then stopped. It was useless. There was no room for argument in Ben’s unbending body language. She’d have to face the music and hope for the best.

“If you won’t change your mind,” she answered with as much dignity she could muster, “I’ll try to take care of everything as soon as I get dressed.”

“Good.” Ignoring the unhappy look in Melinda’s eyes and her aunt’s reproachful gaze, Ben made his way past the two front rooms that had been turned into a bridal shop. The sight of cases full of wedding paraphernalia made him clench his teeth.

On his left, in what would have been a parlor in earlier days, were open boxes of white satin shoes and glass cases filled with matching beaded bags and other accessories. A glass case displayed bridal headpieces, strings of pearls and small gifts for the bride to give to her attendants.

The room to the right of him was lined with flowing white and pastel gowns for brides, bridesmaids and for mothers-of-the bride. A mannequin dressed as a bride with a flowing veil and a bridal bouquet in her arms seemed to gaze at him with a look of reproach as he passed.

His conscience stirred; for a moment he almost hesitated and turned back to the kitchen to explain himself. To explain why he was so against marriage. Until he recalled that the bottom line was that he couldn’t afford to care or, real or not, he would find himself a married man.

As for Bertie and her niece, they might live in a dream world of happily-ever-after, but there was no happily-ever-after in the real world he’d lived in. His misbegotten marriage when he’d been a senior in college had proved that to him. He knew from bitter experience there were no happy endings when it came to marriage—real or otherwise. Not before and certainly not now.

Chapter Two

Ben got as far as the entrance to the small park across the street from the bridal shop before he came to a stop.

He felt like a heel leaving Melinda and her aunt without a decent explanation for his attitude. Not that it would be easy to explain when he wasn’t even sure he understood why himself. His earlier marriage had taken place years ago, but that was then and this was now.

Maybe he should have been grateful for the unexpected turn of events. Maybe now he could get rid of all the wannabe Mrs. Ben Howards.

Shaken out of his reverie by a flock of birds bursting from the full branches of the tree above him, he found himself gazing around him. It was the setting where, according to the wedding announcement, he was scheduled to marry Melinda next month.

The scent of jasmine filled the air. Rustic bridges crossed a babbling brook that slowly meandered through the small park. Carefully tended green hedges bordered the cobblestone walks that led to a white lattice gazebo in the park’s center. A sundial, a birdbath and white iron benches were scattered throughout the small park. It was the last place in the world he expected to find himself. Let alone find himself taking Melinda seriously.

What had brought him here when he had more important things that needed his attention? And why was he suddenly so unsure of his decision to have the fantasy wedding called off?

He thought of Bertie’s assurance that a higher power was at work. Was there some kind of magic aura in the early morning air that made her pronouncement sound reasonable? Was it the same aura that was urging him to go back and tell Melinda he was thinking of changing his mind? That he didn’t want to call off the wedding? And why did it suddenly seem as if it were the right thing to do?

His thoughts stopped him cold. After all, he was an intelligent and successful businessman. Why was he even thinking of magic auras? Was he losing it?

Something turned him back to gaze at the vintage Victorian house across the street. Bertie’s Bridal Shop had been housed there for more years than he could remember. He remembered his two older sisters had purchased their bridal gowns there years ago.

The brown wooden house with its faded white trim was showing its age. The porch railings sagged, but freshly starched lace curtains proudly graced the windows. It looked familiar, and yet there was something different about it today that caught his attention. He squinted in the sunshine to get a better look. The lettering on the sign in the window that advertised a Bridal Referral Service was fairly new. According to Bertie, the service was Melinda’s attempt to keep the shop in the black. The idea may have sounded like a good idea, but there were screwups every day on the Internet.

The realization that she’d found him on an Internet dating service turned his blood to ice water. He should have looked into how it got there before he left. If word got out that Melinda had found him there, he was a dead man.

Before he could decide what prompted him to retrace his footsteps, he found himself back at the bridal shop’s front door. He was about to knock when he remembered Melinda’s headache. He rang the door-bell—gently, but firmly. He had a mission to accomplish.

The door opened a few inches. Bertie peered out. “I knew you’d be back as soon as you had a chance to think things over, Benjamin.” She held the door open with a welcoming smile. “I baked your favorite cookies last night. Why don’t you come in and join me in a fresh cup of coffee?”

Ben glanced over her shoulder at the empty entry. “Actually, Ms. Bertie, I came back to talk to Melinda.”

“Of course,” she agreed amicably. Come right in. Your bride is upstairs getting dressed. She’ll be down in a minute.”

His bride! It was the last thing he wanted to hear, at least until he had a chance to talk things over with Melinda. “Sorry, Ms. Bertie. This bride stuff is a little premature.”

She wagged her forefinger at him. “Now, Benjamin, you aren’t still having cold feet, are you?”

He shook his head. Why wasn’t he heading for the safety of his distillery where more rational heads prevailed instead of talking to a wall? “Not really. The fact is, I came back to apologize for losing my temper. It’s just that I was sure the wedding announcement would play havoc with my life. Even now,” he added with a wry shrug as he followed her into the kitchen, “I feel as if I’m caught in the middle of a hornet’s nest.”

She smiled and prattled on about reluctant bridegrooms.

Maybe it was the odor of freshly brewed coffee or the plate of chocolate-chip cookies waiting on the kitchen table, but Ben felt right at home. The bright-yellow and white chintz curtains at the windows were invitations to enjoy a few moments of relaxation. Under different circumstances, he would have been ready. Unfortunately, the soft music coming over the intercom designed to calm bridal nerves wasn’t exactly music to his ears.

The muscles at the back of his neck tensed as he dropped into a chair. Bertie’s contented smile did nothing to reassure him he was going to make a dent in her conviction that he was about to become a member of her family.

He watched her flutter about the kitchen setting out cups and saucers.

“How did you know I’d be back, Ms. Bertie?” he asked, interrupting a tale that had something to do about a bride having to wrestle a groom to the altar.

Her answering smile was benevolent. “You can’t run away from your destiny, dear.”

He didn’t have a ready reply to that remark.

What was there about the lady that made the illogical seem logical? What was there about her that had him ready to believe in her conviction that destiny had brought him here and not the wedding announcement in the newspaper. Or were they the same?

He was a pragmatic man who had spent his life creating his own destiny. He’d decided the only way to do something for the economy of Ojai was to do it himself. With Bertie happily prattling in the background, his thoughts swung to his Oak Tree Gourmet Distillery, an enterprise he’d started to bring industry to a town that survived largely on tourism. That decision hadn’t been decided by fate, as Bertie preached. No, sir. It had been a sure, pragmatic decision and, thank God, it had worked. Oak Tree brandies were known all over the world.

Still, considering he was a visitor in her kitchen, he couldn’t tell Bertie he was ready to believe she must have come from a different planet. Or that maybe she could be a guardian angel in disguise. For sure, she was an innocent who saw only the positive side of everything and everyone, including him.

“Ms. Bertie,” he began, “I don’t know if it was fate or destiny that turned me back here, but the fact is I owe you an apology.”

“Of course, dear,” she soothed. She moved the plate of plump cookies closer to him. “But, there’s no rush. Take your time.”

Ben swallowed a sigh. Once the newspaper announcement of his “wedding” hit the streets, there was a rush. He was running out of time.

“It’s just that you’ve always been so decent to me—and the whole town, for that matter. I shouldn’t have lost my cool. I wouldn’t want you to think I’ve gone off the deep end.”

“There’s nothing to explain, dear.” She patted his shoulder in passing on her way to turn off the coffee.

“I understand perfectly. You’re just having a bit of bridegroom nerves.”

Ben bit back a hollow laugh and tried again. “I don’t think you do understand, Ms. Bertie. I want you to know I don’t hold what Melinda did against her. I came back to tell her so. Everyone makes mistakes, myself included. It’s just that I don’t understand why Melinda would pick me for her fantasy bridegroom. We hardly know each other.”

Bertie smiled over her shoulder. “The answer is there for you to see, Benjamin. All you need to do is open your mind.”

“Open my mind?” Ben reared back in his chair.

“That’s the problem! I have opened it, and I’ve been in a state of shock ever since I read this morning’s newspaper! Marry Melinda? I swear it was the first time I’d heard of it.”

Her eyes took on a sparkle. “Perhaps so, but I believe you and Melinda were fated to meet again. It doesn’t matter how. Although I have to admit the circumstances are a bit unusual.”

“You got that right,” Ben murmured under his breath.

“However, I’m very pleased at Melinda’s choice,” she went on. “I’ve always said you’re a fine young man.”

He would have laughed at her naïveté if she hadn’t been so sincere. Bertie wouldn’t have seen anything wrong with him even if the truth stared her in the face. “After all the crazy things I managed to get into in high school?”

“Boys are boys,” she agreed. “It comes with the territory. But I’m sure what you did then was harmless and not at anyone’s expense. Just look at you now! Ojai owes you a great deal for all you’ve done for us.”

After Bertie’s endorsement, he was beginning to think there was a halo blinking above his head. So why didn’t he feel saintly?

In the interest of getting out of here before the morning was through, Ben agreed his intentions were good. It wasn’t all that much, but every little bit helped. “Thank you. But to get back to why I’m here. I want to set the record straight. I got angry because I hate to be used. Or made to do something I hadn’t planned for…like get married.”

“If it will make you feel better, go right ahead and get it off your chest.” She smiled and waited expectantly. “But I’m all for you and my niece getting married.”

Ben took a deep breath. “I want to go on record that I haven’t spoken to Melinda in years before now—certainly not since high school. The truth is, I don’t remember her. So you see,” he went on earnestly, “I couldn’t have proposed.”