I sip the ice-cold water, swishing it around my mouth before spitting it out and into the sink.

“Honey, are you sure you’re feeling okay?” My mother places the back of her hand against my forehead, checking for a temperature the same way she did when I was a kid. “You don’t feel like you have a fever,” she mutters, more to herself than to me.

I pull away from her. “I’m fine, Mom.” I lean close to the mirror, checking the front of the huge blue sweatshirt I stole from Jeremy and am wearing as protection for my gown. I don’t see any flecks of vomit on the collar or down the front of the shirt. That’s a good sign.

My mom wrings her hands. “You’re right; it’s probably just pre-wedding nerves.”

“Is that what it is, Caitlin?” Aunt Janet, my mom’s sister and Jeremy’s PA, slants a meaningful glance toward my stomach. She’s one of only a handful of people who know about the baby race Jeremy, his brother Evan, and I are engaged in, and I get the impression she’s enjoying being in on the secret.

I aim a warning glare in her direction. If either of my parents ever learn the real reason I’m getting married … I don’t even want to think about how they’ll react. “It’s nerves. And maybe a touch of the flu that’s been going around.”

It takes all of my self-control to keep my hands off my stomach. This is the second day that I’ve been sicker than the proverbial dog and, while I suppose it’s possible that it really is the flu or nerves, I’m hoping with every iota of my being that it’s more. That at this exact instant there’s a tiny cluster of cells growing in my womb, dividing and multiplying at this very moment, growing into a child that I’ll be able to hold in my arms and call my own in a little under nine months.

I can’t imagine a wedding gift that Jeremy and I would enjoy more.

“You’re right.” My mom pats my arm. “I think I have something that’ll help.” She finds her purse, which has become a virtual walking medicine cabinet ever since my dad was diagnosed. She places a large assortment of pill bottles, eye drops, and cough syrups on the counter until she locates what she’s looking for. “Here. This is for nausea. Your dad says it works better than any of the prescription stuff.”

I throw back two pills and wait, heart racing, to see if they stay down. When my stomach doesn’t immediately revolt, like it has with everything else I’ve tried to eat today, I start to relax. It always pays to have a mom who’s prepared for every situation.

“Thank you,” I tell her.

Her mouth bends into her trademark sunny smile. “You’re welcome.” She sweeps everything into her big brown leather purse. “Now let’s get this ugly sweatshirt off of you so I can see what a beautiful bride my daughter is.”

I grasp the bottom of the sweatshirt and pull it over my head.

“Oh,” my mom gasps and my Aunt Janet claps her hands. “You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.”

I turn and look at my reflection in the full-length mirror.

I spent days going from one bridal boutique to another, searching for this dress. Just because this wedding was a business deal, it doesn’t mean I shouldn’t look the part. And I do.

The dress has a loose skirt that stops at mid-calf. The sweetheart neckline shows just the faintest hint of cleavage and the pattern made out of sequins gives my body a graceful quality it has never had before.

With my red hair curled and piled high on top of my head and the makeup a local theater major Jeremy somehow knows put on me, I’ve never looked more beautiful. I can’t wait for Jeremy to get his first glimpse of me.

And later tonight, when he sees the super sexy underwear the owner of the bridal boutique gave me, he’s going to blow his mind. And maybe a little – or big – something else…

Just thinking about his reaction causes my own blood to heat.

A soft knock sounds on the door. “Ms. Appelet?”

I recognize the strange, nasal voice of the church director. “Yes, Mrs. Peacock?”

“We’re about ready to get started.”

“Thank you.”

“C’mon. Let’s go find our seats and give Caitlin a moment to collect her thoughts.” Aunt Janet takes my mom’s arm and leads her toward the door. “Good luck, Caitlin.”

My mom throws another one of her warm smiles at me from over her shoulder. “Yes, sweetheart. Good luck. I’m so proud of you.”

The silence after they leave is deafening. I take a deep breath and look in the mirror one last time, my gaze honing in on my stomach, trying to tell if there’s a faint swell beneath the satin or if that’s just my imagination. I really can’t tell.

I wish I knew. The closer Jeremy and I get to exchanging vows, the more I wonder if we should have waited until I was actually pregnant before getting married. After all, his father’s will only said the baby had to be born within the confines of marriage; it didn’t say that it had to be conceived after we wed.

By not marrying until I was actually pregnant, Jeremy would still be free to conceive a child with another woman if I prove to be infertile.

I tried to talk to Jeremy about this, but he refused to even entertain the possibility. He acted like he didn’t even hear me.

Oh well, with a church full of people and a minister standing next to the alter, ready to proceed, it’s too late to call things off. Now the only thing we can hope for is that everything works out.

I slip my feet into the pretty, ivory-colored strappy heels I found and make my way to the tiny vestibule where my dad is waiting for me.

My heart clenches at the sight of him sitting in one of the folding chairs. The cancer and resulting treatments have taken a toll. He looks older and there are constantly dark rings under his eyes, but nothing has dimmed his spirit. If anything, he seems to enjoy life even more now than he did before he was given the grim news about his pancreas.

He sees me and stands. “Hey, kiddo,” he says, his voice softer than normal. “Are you ready for this?”

“I hope so.” I stop beside him and scan the large room. Every seat is full. I recognize the faces of my cousins and those who regularly use my floral services. There are also a few people I met when I went with Jeremy to Caldwell Industries functions. I spot Sheila, looking very pale and tired, sitting in the middle of the crowd.

That she’s here surprises me. I sent her a wedding invitation because I’ve known her a few years and genuinely like her, but after the way she reacted to Jeremy when she met him a few months back, I didn’t expect her to come. Still, I’m very glad she did.

My gaze travels farther until it lands on Jeremy. He’s standing angled away from the vestibule and toward a window, his attention captured by something that’s taking place outside. I drink in the sight of him, filing the memory away so that I can pull it out and revisit it whenever I want.

My dad follows my stare and pats my arm. “You know, under most circumstances if you’d told me you were marrying a guy you’d only known three months, I’d seriously consider locking you in the basement, but with Jeremy, considering all he’s done for me, and how you glow whenever you look at him, I’m okay with it. You’ve found yourself a good man.”

Nothing he said could have made me happier. Now, I just have to hope that he never finds out the real reason Jeremy and I are getting married.

The minister catches my eye and raises a questioning brow. I nod and he signals the organ player, who starts playing the Wedding March. I move down the aisle, taking the first steps toward my future.