Mad Enough to Marry - By Christie Ridgway
This book made available by the Internet Archive.
Books by Christie Ridgway
Silhouette Special Edition
Beginning with Baby #1315 From This Day Forward #1388 In Love with Her Boss #1441 Mad Enough To Marry #1481
Yours Truly
The Wedding Date
Follow That Groom!
Have Baby, Will Marry
Ready, Set...Baby!
Big Bad Dad
The Millionaire and the Pregnant Pauper
CHRISTIE RIDGWAY
thinks she has the greatest job in the world. She loves writing stories, and the only thing she loves more is her family: a supportive husband and two sons who often are forced to remind her that kids are entitled to three meals a day.
A native of California, she now Uves in the southern part of the state. A typical writing day can include rescuing the turtle from the pool and finding frogs in the shower. Although she once told the men she loves they could not keep pets that require live food, each week her husband comes home with a plastic bag of pet food that looks suspiciously like crickets (sounds like them, too!) for the reptiles and amphibians that now call her home theirs.
When not writing or chasing down errant pets, she volunteers at her sons' school. Finally, because there's really nothing better, Christie always finds time to curl up with a good book.
You may contact her at P.O. Box 3803, La Mesa, CA 91944. Send a SASE for reply or e-mail her at Christie @ christieridgway.com.
IDAHO
i
NEVADA
Sacramento
•
'San Francisco !• Strawberry Bay
CALIFORNIA
PACIFIC OCEAN ^"X^ Los Angeles
All underlined places are fictitious.
Chapter One
Ocandal.
Staring straight at it, Logan Chase strolled along Strawberry Bay's crowded main street, barricaded for the annual May Fair. He sighed. Over the past several months, the small California town had suffered through a series of earthquakes followed by a string of armed robberies. Why should it be any surprise that scandal was next?
Strawberry Bay, California, was, in general, a prosperous town and its citizens were always eager to support the multitude of organizations represented at the traditional community event. They lined up at the various booths, cash ready to buy the hot dogs the elementary school PTA was selhng, the cinnamon rolls handmade by the Methodist Church's women's group
and the cold cans of soda the kids from the high school's Key Club were hawking.
By all appearances, this year's May Fair was going to break previous fundraising records for the causes on hand, with the sole exception of the cause whose booth was situated at the far end of the street. But Logan knew it was making its own place in infamy. His gaze lingered on the booth, deserted except for the woman sitting alone inside it, even as he told himself it wasn't any of his business that she was probably already the talk of the town.
An elbow nudged his ribs. *'Hey! Long time no see."
Forcing his gaze away from the mud-in-the-making, Logan looked into the freckled face of the woman who cut his hair. **How you doing. Sue Ellen?"
She wasn't any older than he was, as a matter of fact they'd sat beside each other in senior French at Strawberry Bay High School eleven years ago, but the frown she gave him was motherly. 'Tm fine, but you really could use a trim."
Logan ignored the suggestion. He didn't feel like explaining why he was no longer slave to a standing monthly haircut. **How are Chris and the kids?" he asked instead.
"The twins are looking forward to summer already," Sue Ellen repUed. ''And my stepdaughter— you know, Chris's Amber?—she's all excited about the high school's senior prom." Sue Ellen's gaze sUd down the street and she nodded at that last booth, still
devoid of customers. "Tjf there's going to be a senior prom."
Logan shifted uncomfortably, but didn't let himself follow Sue Ellen's gaze. "Of course there's going to be a senior prom. No matter what."
The hairdresser hfted a doubtful eyebrow, still looking at the booth that customarily raised all the necessary funds to lavishly decorate the high-school auditorium for the senior class's prom. Then she looked back at Logan, her expression speculative. *'Maybe you could buy the first—"
*'No way," he said hastily.
**C'mon." Her voice was coaxing. **We need to get some customers down there ot everyone will be—"
'Talking about the fact that the money jar is empty, I know," Logan finished for her. "But why are you looking at me? Chris's daughter's the one who's hoping for a prom this year. Tell him to go over there and get the ball rolling."
Sue Ellen glanced around as if wary of being overheard, then leaned forward and whispered, "He's afraid of her.'*
Though unsurprised, Logan