Signed, Sealed, Delivered (22 page)

All of his plans on being a committed lifelong bachelor with no children sailed out the window with one look at Juliana. Never much of a romantic, he suddenly found himself thinking of things he could do to please her. Then he’d been driving by the mall after a house showing that middle of August. The jewelry store’s sign had twinkled in the sunlight, and something inside him told him it was an omen—that she was “the one” and that he couldn’t lose her.

Now he needed to convince her.

What they shared was so new to him he’d forgotten that she wouldn’t be nearly as giddy about love. She’d been burned once already. While it seemed patently unfair that he should have to pay for another man’s sins, he would.

Perhaps that would serve as penance for his own sins.

He shoved the stocking back into his pocket.

“I was going to ask soon,” he insisted. “Learning about the twins only made me stop hesitating.”

A tear spilled from the corner of her eye as she ran her fingertips over the ring box. “You bought this in August.”

“Yeah, baby. I bought the ring in August.”

She threw her arms around his neck. “I love you.”

Her lips found his before he could answer her in kind.

There was a desperation to her kiss, which Connor found both endearing and exciting. Juliana had let the last of her guards down, and it couldn’t have happened at a better time.

She slipped her tongue into his mouth, probing and retreating in a way that had him hard in a matter of moments. He shifted in discomfort and tried to get a little more breathing room for his poor, bent cock.

Thankfully, she moved, rolling off his lap and dragging him on top of her.

Her enthusiasm and passion almost made him forget she’d just pressed her back against filthy, ancient shag carpet. He tried to ease up, but she clutched at his shoulders and deepened the already incredible kiss.

A few more moments passed before he could find the self-control to break away. Crouching, he helped her into a sitting position. Then he sat down and picked up the box that had fallen aside.

Holding it out to her, he asked again, “Juliana Kelley, will you please marry me?”

Her smile hit him like a punch to the gut. “Yes. I’ll marry you.”

Connor slid the ring on her finger. It was a surprise when Juliana stretched out her arm to admire it like any new fiancée. As she turned her hand this way and that, he smiled. “What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful.” Her voice was a breathless whisper, making the marquis diamond worth every penny. “I just wish you hadn’t spent so much on it.” Her gaze swept the room. “We could use that money for fixing up this place. It’s gonna cost a fortune.”

“But think of how many deductions we can take for the renovations since half of the building will be our offices.”

“If we still have a firm after Max is done assassinating your character all over town.”

“Wilson Realty will survive.”

She arched an eyebrow. “
Wilson
Realty? What happened to Kelley-Wilson?”

“You’re going to be a Wilson now. Remember?”

Her impish grin meant she was coming out of her earlier dark mood. “Maybe I’ll just keep my maiden name. Or hyphenate it. Then everyone will think Kelley-Wilson is just
my
name.” She tossed him a wink.

Connor chuckled. “We have bigger problems right now. We can discuss names later—when we’re in bed.” A thought sobered him. “We can’t have sex now.”

“Like hell we can’t.”

“What about your… trouble—whatever sent you to the clinic.”

Her smile sparkled as brightly as her diamond. “The doctor says sex is okay.”

“Thank God.” He drew her into his arms and kissed her, letting his tongue lazily mate with hers until he was close to losing control.

Fitting her hand between them, she gently eased away. “We do have to wait a couple of days, though.”

“But everything’s okay?” His palm covered her lower belly.

“Everything’s great.” She took a seat on the old couch, creating an eruption of dust. Waving her hand to clear the air, she coughed twice. “You said you had a plan to take down Max?”

He nodded as he sat on the coffee table, facing her. “It’s more Tracy’s idea than mine, but I’m gonna run with it. We’ll need her help to make it work.”

“Explain.”

“How much do you remember from history class?”

A scoff slipped out. “If you have questions about autism, I’m your girl. But history?” She shook her head. “What does history have to do with Max?”

“I’m going to turn him into Thomas Dewey.”

She rolled her eyes. “And then… you lost me.”

“Remember Harry Truman?”

“
Him
, I know. Became president after Roosevelt died. Didn’t the press predict he’d tank his reelection run?”

“Smart lady!” He gave her a quick kiss. “The reporters were unmerciful to the poor guy. They dragged his name through the mud—even stopped polling weeks before the election because they all thought Thomas Dewey was gonna win. They were even cocky enough bastards to print early editions of newspapers.”

“Oh, now I remember! There was a picture of Truman holding up a newspaper. Said something like ‘Dewey defeats Truman.’ ”

“Exactly. Well, Schumm is Dewey. He thinks he’s won, but he hasn’t. Not yet. Not ever. We’re gonna do what Truman did,” he announced.

“Which is?”

“Take the fight to the people and let them decide for themselves who should be the victor.”

* * *

Juliana looked around, taking in the large number of people who had come to the first Barrett Community Day. She wasn’t sure exactly what she’d expected, but the turnout was beyond her wildest dreams. “I cannot believe this crowd.”

“You know how Illini love their chowders,” Mallory said. “Add the barbeque-sauce contest, and it’s no wonder everyone in Cloverleaf is here.”

Connor strode over, dressed in one of the aprons printed with the Barrett Foods and Kelley-Wilson logos that had been given to the people working the event. “Great crowd.”

“That’s what Jules was saying,” Mallory said.

“Helps that it’s so warm,” he added. “Who’d believe it would still be short-sleeve weather the end of October?”

“Yeah, well…” Mallory grinned. “It’s Illinois. Whatever the weather is, just wait five minutes. It’ll change.” She held up her sacks. “My contribution to the chowder.”

“Chowder?” He chuckled. “I still can’t believe that’s what you people call this.”

“What else could we call it?” Juliana asked. “It’s always been a chowder.”

“Chowder is something with clams in it. This is more of a, um”—a snap of his fingers—“I know. It’s a Community Contribution Soup-a-Thon?”

“Who has time to say all that?” Mallory handed him her bags. “It’s a chowder, Connor. Get with the program.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He winked at her. “What’cha got there?”

“Those are the last of our tomatoes, at least the ones Ben didn’t already turn into salsa and marinara.”

He took a quick peek. “I still don’t understand how people throw whatever they bring into the mix and it still ends up tasting good.”

“Just wait,” Juliana said. “You’ll see. It tastes a little different but it’s always good.”

Bethany and Danielle came walking across the grass, heading for the park shelter. Both held bottles of sauce.

Juliana smiled at Mallory. “Better tell Ben the competition’s here.”

“Fierce competition,” Beth said.

“Better believe it,” Dani added. “I’m gonna kick some barbeque sauce ass.”

“On that note,” Connor said, nodding at the bags he held, “I need to get these to the cookers.”

As he headed toward another park shelter in the distance, Juliana watched him go. Of all his physical assets, his ass was the finest, and she never missed a chance to watch him walking away. She hummed her approval.

“Nice buns,” Bethany said.

“Damn right.” Juliana switched her stare to her friend. “And they belong to
me
.”

“Just window-shopping.” Beth set her bottle of homemade sauce on the table. “Definitely not in the mood to buy.”

“Oh?” Danielle put her bottle next to Beth’s. “I heard you and Robert were an item.”

A gasp spilled from Beth’s lips. “Who told you that?”

“I did,” Juliana replied. “I figured with all the time you two were spending at the model house—”

“He likes my taste in décor,” Bethany insisted. “I help his clients, and he pays me enough to make it worth my time. He might build a fantastic house, but he’s colorblind. Literally.”

“He is?” Juliana asked. “After all the houses we’ve sold for him, I never knew that.”

Danielle opted for the ninth-grade approach to teasing. “Beth and Robert sittin’ in a tree…”

“K-I-L-L-I-N-G her best friend,” Bethany said, leveling a hard stare at Dani. “For God’s sake. How old are you anyway?”

“That’s what you get when your BFF teaches freshmen,” Mallory said. “The immaturity is contagious.”

“Grab your bottles, Ladies,” Juliana said. “Time to head to the competition tent.” She pointed to the big tent bearing the Barrett Foods logo and the enormous Kelley-Wilson cloverleaf. “Last I checked there were twenty-six people entered. Think you can take them all?”

“Oh yeah!” Beth said with a nod.

“That blue ribbon is mine.” Dani pumped her fist in the air.

“Then go get ’em.”

Juliana waited until they were out of earshot before she fished her engagement ring out of her sweater’s bodice. Although she wanted to wave her hand under the nose of every woman in town to show them that Connor was hers, it stayed anchored to her with her grandmother’s gold chain.

“What’s that?” Mallory asked when Juliana whipped the gold chain over her head and dangled it in front of her. “Oh my God. Is that a ring? An
engagement
ring?”

“Yeah, it is.”

The squeal Mallory let out was loud enough to draw a lot of stares to their shelter.

“Shh.” Juliana closed her fist over the ring. “Thanks a lot, Mal. Half the town’s looking this way.”

Mallory held out her hand. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Hand it over. I wanna see the size of the rock Connor gave you.” When Juliana didn’t jump to her command, Mallory snapped her fingers. “I mean it, Jules. Hand it over.”

“Fine.” She dropped the jewelry on Mallory’s outstretched palm.

Holding the ring between her thumb and index finger, Mallory let the chain dangle. “Wow. That’s gotta be at least a carat.”

Juliana shrugged. “It’s showy, that’s for sure. Should make a few ladies drool with jealousy.”

“You forget how well I know you. There’s nothing precipitous about you. That ring could be nothing but a diamond chip or cubic zirconia, and you’d still love it. All you care about is that it’s from Connor, and you’re worried about anyone knowing that.” Mallory handed her back the ring and chain. “Why in the world aren’t you wearing it?”

“I
am
wearing it.”

A scoff slipped out. “You’re hiding it. Why? It’s not like everyone doesn’t know you’re a couple.”

“We’re talking marriage, Mal. Marriage. It’s not dating someone. It’s not living together. It’s marriage.” Juliana slipped the chain over her neck and shoved the ring back between her breasts, jerking the sweater up to cover any sign of the gold.

“Ah,
now
I get it.”

Her friend’s knowing smirk was almost Juliana’s undoing. Tears stung her eyes, but she wasn’t about to cry. Not even in front of Mallory. “Get what?”

“You’re scared.”

“I’m never scared.”

“It’s me. Mallory. Your best friend. You’re scared to death that it won’t work—that you’ll get divorced again—so you’re gonna make sure that never happens by not marrying Connor.”

Juliana shook her head.

“Then there’s the firm,” Mallory continued despite Juliana’s occasional derisive snorts. “After you and Jimmy broke up, you still had to see him at school. At least there you could stay in your part of the building while he stayed in his. Only an occasional awkward greeting in the mailroom or at graduation.”

It was like listening to her own thoughts. “Enough, Mal. Okay?
Enough.
”

As if a stern warning would be enough to deter Mallory Carpenter when she was on a roll. “Remember when I got in my own way with Ben?”

A heavy sigh slipped out. “Look, I know you’re only trying to help. But Connor and I are different.”

“You were the one who told me to open my eyes and see everything instead of using my emotions.”

“Lotta good that did,” Juliana retorted. “Ben had to shave his head and propose in front of the whole school to get you to talk to him.”

“But you were the reason I let him back in. If you hadn’t talked some sense into me, we might not have worked things out.”

“Silly me, I thought it was his gorgeous chrome dome and the diamond that did the trick.”

Why couldn’t Mallory understand?

Juliana had been miserable working with Jimmy after the divorce.

Working with Connor after he left her would be unbearable.

Mallory shot her a scowl. “Listen to me, Jules. For once, take advice from someone who loves you.”

Juliana bowed her head. “Sorry, Mal. I’ll listen.”

“You’re getting in your own way, exactly like I was. Connor isn’t Jimmy. You’ve got to stop making him pay for your ex’s crimes.”

“I’m not—”

The truth hit her hard.

She
was
treating Connor as if he’d do exactly what Jimmy had done—walk out when the going got tough.

For shit’s sake! How much tougher can it get?

Connor was being painted as an irresponsible gambling addict.

Their firm was in danger of failing.

Juliana was pregnant—with twins.

If he hadn’t already run for the hills, he wasn’t going to.

Ever.

“I need to go.” Juliana waved at Mallory as she ran from the shelter.

Juliana stopped in the middle of the tent, scanning the crowd for Connor.

To the right were the vats of soup being stirred by a couple of guys holding homemade wooden paddles they used like enormous spoons. Between tending the chowder and the bottles of Budweiser in their other hands, the men were well-occupied.

Next to the vats were three tables full of baked goods donated by people from the town. The cakewalk—another Illinois tradition. People donated money for a chance to win homemade cakes, cookies, and brownies in a raffle.

Tons of people milled about.

But no Connor.

To the left were the people serving beverages, everything from soda and iced tea to beer and wine. There were more donations to the chowder being prepared to go into the vats. Those who didn’t want the potpourri chowder for their meal could have the hamburgers and hot dogs that were laid out on grills. A large display of antiques and handmade quilts to be auctioned later in the day was somehow stuffed into the tent as well.

When the event was over, all the money raised would go to The Pantry—a charity Tracy and Connor set up to help people who needed help getting their families fed.

The Pantry had been Tracy’s brilliant idea. She said to get Kelley-Wilson Realty back in Cloverleaf’s good graces the firm would need to make a goodwill gesture that showed how committed Juliana and Connor were to the community. It was only step one of what she called her “master plan.”

Step two would happen when he served as auctioneer, his chance to let his wonderful personality shine. Juliana had let him practice with her, having him describe all the vintage items they donated from their new home. The money would go to the food pantry—and to “step three”—but she considered it well spent for the publicity and to help restore Cloverleaf’s faith in Kelley-Wilson Realty.

Step three was still a secret that Tracy impishly refused to reveal to either Juliana or Connor. She was scheduled to make a speech before everyone commenced eating, when the crowd would be at its largest.

“Hey, Red.”

Juliana jumped and put her hand over her racing heart. “You love doing that, don’t you?”

Connor gave her a quick, no-nonsense kiss. “Absolutely. Were you looking for me?”

“Yeah.” She had a wave of a foreign emotion. Contentment. “I—I want to tell you something.”

He arched a dark eyebrow.

She whipped the chain from her shirt and removed the ring. Then she slid it onto her finger. “I love you, Connor Wilson.”

“Ah, I wondered where that was. Figured you wanted to keep from gunking it up while you cooked.”

Since he obviously knew better than that, she punched him lightly on the upper arm.

“I love you, too, future Mrs. Wilson.” He tugged her into his arms.

For the first time, she didn’t care what people saw or what they thought. She returned Connor’s kiss, even grinning against his mouth at some of the men’s ribald comments and the women’s longing stares and sighs.

“Making a spectacle, I see.”

“Max.” Connor tried to ease away.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and refused to let him go. “Guess I didn’t think a newly engaged couple sharing a kiss made us a ‘spectacle.’ ”

Max’s cocky smirk made her ache to punch him in the nose. “I suppose in and of itself, it doesn’t. But added to some of Connor’s less-than-appropriate activities and—”

The high-pitched microphone feedback couldn’t have come at a better time, almost as though it had been planned as an interruption.

“Folks, if I could have your attention.” Tracy had taken her place on the small stage that had been erected for the auction.

Conversations dwindled as people packed the tent to listen to the woman most people called the “savior” of Cloverleaf. Barrett Foods moving to the town had renewed it—restored it to a place full of life and promise for the future.

Tracy smiled down at Juliana when she dragged Connor to a prime spot to the right of the stage. If this was going to be Tracy’s unveiling of the third part of her plan, Juliana wasn’t about to miss a single word.

“What a great crowd!” Tracy nodded at a few of the people. “Glad to see so many of you here today to help Barrett Foods and Kelley-Wilson Realty kick off The Pantry. There will never be a reason for anyone in and around Cloverleaf to do without. The Pantry is there in your time of need, and I hope all of you will spread the word that we’re here to help. Food. Clothes. Household goods. And one thing more… which is what I’m here to tell you about.” Her hand swept out toward Connor. “Let me introduce my best friend and the man who convinced me to bring Barrett Foods to Cloverleaf—Connor Wilson.” She gave a chuckle. “Of course, if any of you were lucky enough to have him sell you a house, you already know him.”

His brow knit as he turned to Juliana. “Red?”

“You know exactly as much as I do,” she said, squeezing him tightly then turning him loose. “I imagine this is where you have to be totally honest.”

“I don’t know—”

“It’ll be fine. She’s got your back. So do I. Go on.”

He stepped up to Tracy’s side as the crowd applauded.

“The Pantry,” Tracy continued, “will also offer an important service to the community. But let me start by telling you something key to why we’re making this change.” She took a deep breath and blew it out. “I’m an alcoholic.”

The murmurs started immediately, and Juliana’s heart leapt to her throat. Tracy’s honesty was refreshing, but if she intended to focus on Connor’s gambling addiction, it could be the death knell for Kelley-Wilson Realty. The rumors were damaging enough. Could these small-town people accept the truth?

Barrett Foods was an international firm. If the CEO wanted to tell the world she’d struggled with a drinking problem, it wouldn’t faze too many people. She’d probably earn a lot of admirers, especially among people who were also battling alcoholism or other addictions.

But announcing that Connor was a gambler in a judgmental town?

“God help us,” Juliana whispered.

Tracy waited until the crowd quieted. “Why am I telling you this? Because I’m not the only one who fights addiction. Alcohol. Pills. Gambling. There are so many problems plaguing people. Addictions have the power to ruin lives, especially when those addictions are used by competitors to hurt them.” Her gaze settled on Max Schumm. “I can’t imagine anything more reprehensible than spreading unsubstantiated rumors about someone simply because of an addiction, especially when that person is doing everything in his power to keep his life balanced.”

Many of the people in the crowd turned to glare at Max as a flush spread up his neck. He hooked a finger in his collar and tugged, his discomfort as plain as a neon sign on a starless night.

Juliana wanted to dance a little jig, loving the sight of the man feeling the sting of public scorn that he’d directed at Connor. All the ads. All the gossip. All the implications.

Good. Getting a dose of your own medicine, Maxy Boy?

Tracy pressed on. “If I didn’t have the help I needed to find my sobriety, I’d never have been able to expand Barrett Foods to this wonderful town. So now, I want to thank the friend who’s always there, keeping me on the straight and narrow and encouraging me every step of the way.” She turned and hugged Connor while the crowd went wild with applause, hoots, and hollers.

With a dramatic sigh and a quick swipe of the well-timed tear that had hit her cheek, she returned to the microphone. “Now, I’m paying it forward. As a part of The Pantry, we’re adding an addiction center. There will be counselors available free of charge, and support groups will be run through local churches and supported by Barrett Foods grants and community fund-raisers like this—the first annual Pantry Chowder. Don’t be afraid to admit you need help. We’re here to give it to you, no matter your addiction.” She turned to Connor, an expectant grin on her lips.

In one fell swoop, she’d turned her addiction into an asset, revealing her inner strength—one she was trying to share with him. If he confessed, there might still be a few people who would condemn him. But others,
many
others, judging from the crowd’s reaction to Tracy, would see him as human. Just a real person trying to make his way in a scary world.

His head bowed for a moment before he glanced to Juliana.

She knew what he was asking, and she wondered if Tracy knew that she was downright brilliant. The crowd was in the palm of her hand, and she would use their love for her to help them accept Connor.

Who can resist a reformed hero?

With tears in her eyes, Juliana nodded.

He took the microphone Tracy passed to him.

Connor took Juliana’s breath away.

He’d changed since Max had launched his smear campaign. His cocky attitude had muted. Yet the moment he faced those people, the ones who now cheered him, the old Connor was back.

He loudly cleared his throat. “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Connor Wilson.” He inclined his head at Juliana. “This beautiful lady is Juliana Kelley. We’re the pair who make up Kelley-Wilson Realty. First, let me offer our heartfelt appreciation for welcoming me into your community. Many of you already know Juliana as a former teacher at Douglas High School and—”

“Go Warriors!” a young male voice boomed, setting off laughter and cheers.

Connor smiled and tossed her a wink. “And I have the pleasure of sharing with all of you some fantastic news. Ms. Kelley has agreed to marry me.”

The women went nuts, applauding as a few elbowed or poked the reticent men standing next to them.

“But that’s not what I’m up here to talk about,” he continued. “After Ms. Barrett’s brave confession, I have one of my own. Like her, I also have an addiction. While most people understand what she goes through every day, fewer look at my problem as an addiction. They consider it a character flaw. You see, I’m addicted to gambling.”

Tracy put her arms around his waist and leaned her cheek against his upper arm.

At that moment, Juliana entirely understood what the two of them shared. As she’d told Connor, there was no jealousy. Only gratitude, not only for the public backing but for all she did to help Connor be the man he was today.

“I assure you,” he said, “that it
is
an addiction, one I will try to control every day for the rest of my life. Despite what you might have heard, I never—not once—misused any of my clients’ funds. My work as a real estate agent requires your trust.”

Tracy put her hand on the microphone and pulled it closer. “Trust that I give him with every home he helps buy and sell for Barrett employees.”

“I would never betray that trust. With Juliana and Tracy’s help, I will keep adding to my year and a half of being addiction free.”

* * *

By the time Juliana kicked off her shoes, she was sure if she closed her eyes she’d sleep for a week.

Flopping into the easy chair, she popped the footrest up to elevate her aching feet.

Connor dropped his organizer on the coffee table and crouched next to her. With gentle strokes, he rubbed her feet, forcing groans and then sighs from her lips.

“You need to take better care of yourself, Red. You ran around like a demon all day.”

“And I’ve got the puffy feet to prove it,” she teased.

“Don’t push yourself too hard. Can’t be easy carrying twins.”

“I won’t,” she promised. “This was a busier than normal day because of the chowder.”

“I’m going to have to rein you in and keep you from overdoing.”

“I won’t, honey. These babies are everything to me. I’m going to do everything I can to keep them safe, even if it means cooling my jets and”—she shuddered for effect—“relaxing.”

The pain of the miscarriage was there, just below the surface. She tried not to let that infect her happiness. She wouldn’t lose these babies.

She
couldn’t
lose these babies.

He rose and cupped her face. “You’re worried. I can tell. Repeat what the doctor said about our kids.”

How like him to be able to remind her of the good and drive away the bad. “She said they’re both healthy with strong hearts and that everything’s perfect right now.”

“Perfect. Keep your mind on that and stay positive.” He brushed a kiss over her mouth.

“Tell me this—are we going to get married before or after the twins come?”

He scoffed. “Before, of course!”

“Then it better be quick. A couple more months, and I’ll be as big as a water buffalo.”

His smile was enigmatic—a smile she’d learned well over their time together.

“Spill,” she demanded.

“You know me far too well.” He sat on the arm of the chair. “How about two weeks from Saturday?”

“Two weeks? That’s all I get to plan a wedding? Two weeks?”

“Don’t even pretend you want a Cinderella wedding.”

“I don’t. But that’s not the point.”

“The point is if I give you too much time to chew on this, you’ll analyze it to death.” Connor wrapped his arms around her, pulling her until her cheek rested against his side. “I’m not giving you a chance to get away.”

“I don’t want to get away. But I do want to know what plans you’ve already made.”

“Let this be a surprise, Red.”

Juliana’s trust in Connor was absolute. “Since I have four closings this week and two the next—on top of being a pregnant woman who needs her rest—I’ll leave it all in your hands.”