To Love, Honor And Defend. Beth Cornelison

Cal shook his head. “No way. The court has to believe I’ll give Ally a Leave it to Beaver home life. Ward and June didn’t keep separate quarters.”

      Libby snorted. “Pal, if you’re looking for June Cleaver, you’ve come to the wrong woman.”

      She turned to check on Ally again, in time to see a pair of curious blue eyes snap shut. A grin ghosted across Libby’s lips, and she faced the front again, giving Cal’s daughter the privacy she wanted and the freedom to observe her father and his friend uninterrupted.

      “I’m not asking you to make meat loaf and vacuum the house in high heels and pearls,” Cal said. “But I have to show the court that Ally will have a stable, two-parent home where she’ll be safe and loved.”

      “This one’s a deal breaker. You’re in the guest room, or I walk. I’m not sharing a bed with you.”

      A muscle in his jaw twitched, and he sent her a hooded glance. “Good enough. For now.”

      He turned back to stare out the windshield, and a strange hollowness poked at her. Irritated with her reaction, she squeezed the door handle even tighter. She was not disappointed that he’d accepted her term of celibacy so readily.

      “Fine.” And she was fine, too. Getting into bed with Cal Walters again, no matter how tempting, would be the height of stupidity.

      At a traffic light, Cal drummed the steering wheel with his fingers. “But you’ll need to keep up appearances in public. The world, the judge, has to believe we’re happily married…in every way.”

      “Fine.” Libby pressed a hand to her stomach, hoping to calm the swirl of apprehension growing inside her.

      Happily married? To Cal?

      Not so many years ago, sharing her life with Cal had been her greatest hope, her dream. Now the proposition seemed more of a nightmare. A recipe for heartbreak.

      “All right, then. Make time on your calendar first thing Monday to get the license.” Cal cut a sideways glance at her. “With the three-day waiting period, the soonest we can get married is Thursday.”

      She shook her head. “I have a case going to trial Thursday. I’ll be in court all day.”

      “All day?”

      “There’ll be a recess for lunch, but—”

      “Good. We’ll just grab a judge during your break and do it then.”

      “Cal, I—” She stopped, unsure what her objection was. But she couldn’t shake the foreboding sense that she was making a terrible mistake.

      He hoped to God he wasn’t making a terrible mistake. Having listened to his mom and stepdad bicker over everything from scrambled eggs to the electric bill, he knew what it was like to grow up in a house rife with hostility.

      An all-too-familiar prick of guilt needled him. Hell, the hostility should have been a clue to what was really going on. He should have known. Should have done something sooner.

      One thing was certain—Libby would never endure from him what his mother had with his stepfather. Never.

      He watched from the door of his bedroom as Libby stroked a gentle hand over Ally’s cheek and tucked a teddy bear under his daughter’s arm. Libby had dived right in beside him, helping with Ally’s bath and fixing a hot brunch of pancakes and bacon before they shuffled his drowsy daughter off to nap.

      Despite her kindness to Ally, the silent treatment and physical distance Libby kept from him conveyed her feelings about their relationship loud and clear. Not exactly the parental atmosphere he wanted for his daughter.

      He’d hoped the warm, compassionate Libby who had stolen his heart years ago would be his wife. Every night of his incarceration, he’d dreamed of the woman who’d made him laugh, who’d kissed him in the rain and made s’mores with him over the fireplace flames. After three passionate months together, they’d been on the verge of taking their affair to a deeper, more personal level when Renee had called to say she was five months pregnant with Ally. He never got the chance to probe the deeper layers of the fun-loving and complex woman Libby was, the woman he’d started to love.

      He sighed his regret. Maybe he’d never regain what he’d lost with Libby. She could resent him all she wanted as long as Ally had the love she deserved.

      He stepped out of the way so Libby could back from the room and pull the door closed.

      “I have to leave.”

      He cocked his head. “Excuse me?”

      She gave him a pointed look. “Leave. Go home. Your little field trip this morning has put me behind schedule.” She squared her shoulders and jutted out her chin. “I have things to do today.”

      “Yeah, things like making plans with me about how this arrangement will work. Spending time with Ally. Getting to know her.” He hooked his thumbs in his jeans and frowned.

      “No…like researching an important case at the library. And taking Jewel to the vet for her shots.” She brushed past him and began gathering her coat and purse. “I have to pick up my dry cleaning and get the oil changed on my car and—”

      “I can change your oil. No point paying someone else to do it.”

      She paused in the middle of pulling on her coat. “I don’t need you to change my oil. I’m perfectly happy having my mechanic take care of it.” She jabbed a finger in his direction as she slung her purse over her shoulder. “I agreed to this plan of yours, and I’ll do what I can to help you get custody of Ally. But that doesn’t mean you can come in and dictate my life.”

      “I don’t intend to dictate your life, but if this marriage is going to work, if it’s going to look convincing, you’re going to have to find time for us. You can’t bury yourself in your job to hide out from us.”

      As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he could reel them back. For Ally’s sake, he needed to work on smoothing the rough edges in his relationship with Libby.

      She pulled herself to her full height and pressed her mouth in a taut line. “What’s wrong with working hard at a job I enjoy?”

      He shrugged and stepped closer. “Nothing at all. It’s great you enjoy your work.”

      Her dark eyes sparked with suppressed pain and anger. “At least I can count on my job being there when I need it. That’s more than I can say about some people.”

      Her gibe sliced deep, a direct hit to ancient guilt. But she had no way of knowing about his mother. Did she? As close as they’d been, he’d never shared his darkest secret with her.

      He determinedly kept his expression neutral, giving away none of his rioting emotions.

      “I help get criminals off the street,” she added. “It’s satisfying.”

      Moving within inches of her, he reached for the lapel of her coat and smoothed a wrinkle. Beneath his touch, she stiffened, drew herself up a notch tighter, like a coil ready to spring.

      “More satisfying than your personal relationships?” Damn it, why did he keep goading her?

      Despite his efforts to set his feelings aside for Ally’s sake, the hurt and anger he’d nourished through his incarceration bubbled to the surface. “I had a job I loved, too, you know.”

      She stopped on her way out and cut a startled glance over her shoulder.

      “I loved being a firefighter. Loved knowing I was making a difference, saving lives, helping my community the only way I knew how. But when I was convicted, I lost my firefighting credentials.”

      He saw the question in her eyes and her reluctance to ask it. “No, I can’t get my old job back,” he volunteered. “But I’ve taken a job my parole officer found for me, working road construction with the highway department. I had to have some income, some employment, if