“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.

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.