Free If the Stick Turns Pink... by Carla Cassidy Page B

she felt like nothing more than a mass of bunched and bundled nerves.
    For years she’d dreamed of losing her virginity on her wedding night, and always in those dreams she was giving herself to a prince of a man who loved her with a depth of emotion that was overwhelming.
    Instead, she’d given up those dreams and twistedBailey’s arm into marrying her so she could have the child her heart so desired.
    They got out of the truck, and Bailey staggered slightly as he took the porch stairs. “You don’t really want me to carry you over the threshold, do you?” he asked.
    â€œI would expect and demand it if this was a real marriage,” she said, although in her heart she couldn’t help but think it might have been nice under different circumstances.
    â€œYou might want to check the kitchen before you come back to the bedroom,” Bailey said once they were inside.
    â€œWhat did you do? Leave me dirty dishes as a wedding present?” she asked.
    Bailey grinned, his eyes not quite focusing on her, then he turned and stumbled down the hallway toward the bedroom.
    Melanie headed into the kitchen, surprised to discover a child’s gate barring the entryway. Behind the gate, bedecked with a silver bow around his neck, tail wagging at the sight of her, was Squirt.
    â€œOh, Bailey,” she whispered as she reached over the gate and picked up the wiggly puppy. She knew the devastation of Champ’s loss so long ago had kept Bailey from ever wanting a dog as a housemate again.
    She also knew that he’d allowed Squirt into the house because he knew she’d always wanted a dog. Her parents had never allowed an animal in the house,and when she’d moved out into her apartment, it had a no-pet policy.
    She hugged the puppy to her chest for a long moment, feeling warm and fuzzy inside. Suddenly she wasn’t worried about making love with Bailey. All the tension that thoughts of this night had brought was gone beneath the warmth of Squirt against her and the wonder of Bailey’s thoughtfulness.
    Having sex with Bailey was going to be just fine. There was no reason for sex to ruin the magic of their friendship. She kissed Squirt and placed him back behind the gate, then headed for the bedroom.
    She stopped in the doorway, all her hopes for the night seeping out of her. Bailey was diagonal across the bed, obviously passed out. His shirt was half-unbuttoned, as if he’d crashed to the bed in the middle of undressing.
    She’d known he was drinking more than he was accustomed to, had known that he was slightly loopy on the drive home, but apparently she’d underestimated just how under-the-influence he’d been.
    And why had he drunk so much? Bailey often enjoyed a beer in the evenings, but he almost never overindulged. Melanie swept into his bathroom and grabbed the nightclothes that were folded on a shelf in the linen closet.
    Over the past week she’d moved most of her personal items here in preparation for their brief, but hopefully fruitful, marriage.
    Clutching the nightclothes to her breast, she left themaster bedroom and went into one of the guest bedrooms. She was surprised by the well of emotion that pressed against her chest as she took off the wedding gown and slipped into the satin camisole and tap pants.
    There was no denying she was disappointed. There would certainly be no hope for a baby with her sleeping in here and Bailey passed out in the next room.
    But what surprised her was a niggling fear that swept into her head. As she crawled beneath the blankets on the bed, she found herself wondering if perhaps the reason Bailey had drunk so much was because he simply couldn’t face having sex with her.

Chapter Six
    B efore Bailey opened his eyes, he knew he had the hangover from hell. His head pounded with a nauseating intensity, and his mouth was achingly dry and wicked tasting.
    Dear heaven, but he had tied one on the night before. He couldn’t