Читать книгу Secrets Of A Shy Socialite - Wendy S. Marcus - Страница 7

JENA missed Marta something fierce. She bounced Abbie gently while patting her tiny back. Knowing her old nanny had been a few doors down the hall had eased many of Jena’s new mother insecurities and fears. Of course the girls had been perfect angels then. Textbook infants.

Nothing like this. Abbie arched her back and let out an unusually shrill cry.

“It’s going to be okay, sweetie girl,” she whispered against the baby’s cheek, hoping hearing the words would make her believe them. It didn’t work. Jena’s heart pounded. Don’t panic. You’re a nurse. You can handle this.

“When did she last eat?” Jena asked Mandy, starting with the most basic reason the twins cried.

“Mrs. Calvin and I fed them about an hour and a half ago.”

Moving on to diaper, Jena walked down the hall and set Abbie on the changing table where she writhed and kicked her tiny legs making it difficult to unsnap her outfit.

Diaper dry. Shoot.

Jena stripped off Abbie’s clothes and examined her naked body for signs of irritation or anything out of the ordinary. Aside from a red face, the only unusual thing identified during her careful head to toe assessment was a firm, maybe a bit distended, belly.

Please be gas.

“Jaci told me to give you this.” Justin walked into the room and handed her a bottle. He stared down at Abbie, still looking a bit shell-shocked.

“I’m sorry you found out like this,” Jena said, fastening a new diaper. “I’d planned to give you some warning before—”

A milky-looking fountain spurted from Abbie’s mouth. Jena flipped her onto her side and rubbed her back. “Hand me a cloth.”

Justin did. “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know.” Worry seeped into her voice. But maybe after spewing out the contents of her tiny tummy Abbie would feel better.

Wishful thinking, because she sucked in a breath and started to cough and sputter.

“She’s choking,” Justin so helpfully pointed out, pushing Jena closer to all out panic.

No. Think like a nurse. She sat Abbie on the changing table, and, supporting her chin leaned her forward and patted her back.

Airway clear, Abbie’s screams turned even more intense, desperate for her mommy to do something to help her. But what?

Helpless tears filled Jena’s eyes as she struggled to dress her squirming infant in a soft cotton sleeper. She picked her up and tried to give her the bottle while she hurried back into the living room. Abbie clamped her lips closed and turned her head, refusing the nipple. “How long has she been like this?” Jena asked Mandy.

“A good forty-five minutes before I brought her back. Mrs. Calvin and I tried everything we could think of to calm her.”

If Mrs. Calvin, Jaci’s upstairs neighbor who’d raised five children and had been helping out with the twins since Jena’s return, couldn’t solve the problem, Jena had little confidence she’d be able to.

“She said sometimes babies just need to cry,” Mandy said.

But not like this. For close to an hour. And what if Jena weren’t here to see to the needs of her daughter? Would Abbie’s unknown caregiver allow her to cry, alone in her room, for hours and hours, totally unconcerned with her discomfort and distress, thinking ‘sometimes babies just need to cry’? Jena’s heart twisted uncomfortably. As soon as this was over she’d make a note regarding how she’d like this situation handled in the future, should she not be around to deal with it, knowing there was no guarantee her wishes would be followed. She swallowed a lump of despair.

“We need to get her to a doctor,” Justin said in his police voice, taking charge.

“I’ll watch Annie,” Jaci offered.

“It’s probably just gas,” Jena said, hoping that was true.

“But you don’t know for sure,” Justin pointed out.

“No.” Jena fought for composure. “I’ve never quite mastered the ability to read minds,” she said, maintaining an even tone. “Even if I had, I imagine reading an infant’s mind must be pretty darn difficult considering they haven’t yet acquired the skills necessary to communicate.”

Justin raised an eyebrow. “So quiet Jena has some bite, and sarcasm is your weapon of choice.”

Yup. But she didn’t usually speak it out loud. “I don’t have a pediatrician in the area yet, which doesn’t matter since the office would most likely be closed now, anyway. And Abbie hasn’t had all her vaccinations,” Jena said. “I can’t take her into an emergency room crowded with sick people.”

Jena paced and rocked and patted. Abbie screamed. What to do? What to do? A pressure behind her forehead made her eyeballs feel on the verge bulging out of their sockets. An emergency room visit. The absolute worst case scenario. No insurance. Maxed out credit cards. They couldn’t turn her away for inability to pay, could they? The humiliation. But this wasn’t about her and her stupid choices. This was about Abbie.

“I know a pediatric urgent care center,” Justin said. “Twenty minutes away.” Perfect. Maybe the car ride would put Abbie to sleep and they wouldn’t need to go inside. “I’ll need a ride.” Jena threw it out there to no one in particular. Pathetic rich girl chauffeured from place to place all her life, she’d never bothered to learn to drive. And at age twenty-four she couldn’t even drive her daughter to seek medical treatment.

“I’ll take you,” Justin said. Before she could tell him she’d rather go with Jaci, or Ian, or Mandy, or anyone but him, he added, “Come on,” and headed for the door.

Like a mother of twins could simply run out of the condo on a moment’s notice.

Men.

“I have to—”

“Here’s a car seat.” Ian walked out of the second bedroom she temporarily shared with the girls. Not all men were as clueless as Justin.

“Diaper bag restocked and ready,” Jaci said, holding it out to Justin, who, rather than reaching for it so they could get underway, stared at it like Jaci was trying to pass him a severed limb.

So sorry she hadn’t purchased a diaper bag worthy of a macho cop. “I like pink,” Jena said, snatching the bag and slinging the strap over her shoulder. “Does the car seat meet with your approval or should I carry that, too?” She shifted Abbie and wrapped her in a baby blanket. Jaci slipped a little pink hat on Abbie’s head and gave her a kiss.

“Lord help me,” Justin said, taking the car seat from Ian. “I’ve never seen this side of her. She’s got a mouth like Jaci.”

Not quite. But Jena smiled, welcomed the comparison, because Jaci stood up for herself. Jaci didn’t let people take advantage of her. Jaci could handle anything.

Justin made the twenty minute trip to the pediatric urgent care center in less than fifteen minutes. Apparently speeding, passing on double yellow lines, and ignoring red lights were perks of the police profession. If not for the seatbelt that kept her lower body anchored on the back seat of his SUV, Jena had no doubt she would have been tossed around like a forgotten soccer ball. During the harrowing ordeal she held on to Abbie’s car seat which was strapped in beside her, her attempts to sooth her daughter and ignore Justin’s aggressiveness behind the wheel both futile.

Abbie’s unrelenting crying filled the car, echoed in her head, vibrated through her body.

Justin slowed down—thank you—and turned into the parking lot of a darkened, somewhat rundown strip mall in a not-so-nice part of town. “Why are you pulling in here?” He parked in front of the one lit storefront. The Pediatric Urgent Care Center. “It doesn’t look …” Professional. Clean. Safe.

While Jena pondered a way to nicely say, “There is no way I am taking my daughter into that dump,” Justin hopped out of the SUV, opened her door, and stuck his head inside. “Now there’s the Jena I know. Do you want to take her out of the carrier or bring in the whole thing?”

The Jena he knew? She unstrapped Abbie, removed her from the car seat and cuddled her close as she climbed out. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked. But she knew. The kids at school mistook quiet, smart and wealthy for snobby, snobby and snobby.

But this had nothing to do with being a snob and everything to do with being a concerned mother who wanted her daughter examined by a qualified practitioner in a well-equipped, high quality medical setting.

Justin set his large hand on her low back and applied a gentle pressure to get her moving toward the glass door. “You don’t know me at all,” Jena said. Not exactly his fault. No one did. Because in living life to avoid conflict and cater to the needs, wants, and expectations of others, Jena tended to smother her true personality, thoughts and desires beneath her need to keep everyone who mattered to her happy. Well, no more.

“You’re right,” Justin responded as he opened the door. “I don’t know you. But whose fault is that?”

Touché.

The inside of the facility had a much nicer, more professional feel than the outside. In fact it looked and smelled like a real hospital. Jena’s stress level eased a bit. Abbie’s screams caught everyone’s attention and the ten or so people in the waiting room to the right and the older woman at the registration desk straight ahead all stared at them.

“Hey, handsome,” the woman behind the desk said, looking past Jena to Justin with a warm smile. “What are you bringing us tonight? Out of uniform?”

“Hi, Gayle,” Justin said. “This is my …” Justin stopped. “Uh … my …”

Gayle lowered her head and peered up at him over the top rim of her eyeglasses.

Jena wanted to help him out but found herself at a loss regarding how to best describe their relationship. Was she his friend? Not really. In truth they barely knew each other. His lover? Did one drunken sexual encounter make them lovers? A woman he hardly knew who just happened to be the mother of the children he didn’t know about and doesn’t want? Bingo!

Jena decided to go with friend. “I’m a friend of Justin’s.” She reached out her hand to shake Gayle’s and sat down in the chair facing her desk. “This is my daughter, Abbie.” She removed the hat. “She’s six weeks old and has been screaming like this for going on an hour and a half. She doesn’t feel like she has a fever but her abdomen is mildly distended and firm. She’s refusing her bottle and,” she glanced up at Justin, “we felt it best she be examined by a doctor to make sure nothing serious is going on.”

Gayle typed on her computer keyboard. “Insurance card.”

“I … don’t have insurance,” Jena admitted, leaning in to whisper. “But if you’d agree to a payment plan I promise to pay off the entire bill.”

Gayle’s expression all but branded Jena a liar. Then she shifted her disapproving gaze up to Justin no longer happy to see him.

“She’s my daughter,” he said boldly. “I’ll make sure the bill is paid.”

Gayle couldn’t have looked more shocked if someone had slapped her across the face with a fish. But she regrouped and handed Jena a clipboard with papers to be filled out and a pen. If only a pitying look hadn’t accompanied them.

Jena lowered her eyes and let out a breath. Her face burned with the heat of embarrassment. She hated being in this position. “Thank you,” she said quietly. Then balancing Abbie against her chest with her left hand, she completed the necessary paperwork with her right.

After reviewing the forms Gayle studied Jena’s face. “You’re one of the Piermont twins?” she asked, with reverse snobbery.

Why, because Jena hadn’t had time to put herself together for public viewing? Because a Piermont shouldn’t need a payment plan? Because she didn’t belong in their little urgent care center? Or with Justin?

“Not a word,” Justin cautioned Gayle.

Like a man who didn’t want people knowing he was in any way associated with her. Or that he’d fathered a baby. Two babies. Well, who needed him? “You found me out,” Jena said with a forced laugh. She sat up a bit straighter and lifted her chin. She could do regal better than just about anyone when she needed to. “See. No worries you won’t get paid. I’m a millionairess.” With no currently available millions.

“Shshsh,” she whispered to Abbie, hugging her close. “You’re going to be fine.” She and her sister and their mother would all be fine. After Abbie stopped crying, after Jena’s surgery and after she found a way to meet the terms of her trust fund.

A payment plan. Justin followed Jena down the long hallway to one of the exam rooms reserved specifically for infants. It absolutely defied logic that Jena Piermont, whose family made The Forbes 400, a listing of the richest people in America, year after year, requested a payment plan for a bill that, at the most, might reach two hundred dollars. And she had no insurance? Doctor and hospital bills for her treatment during pregnancy and the delivery of two babies must have been considerable. But enough to drain her multi-million-dollar bank account?

No. More likely she’d squandered it on fancy clothes, fancy food, and a fancy lifestyle she obviously couldn’t afford.

“Thanks, Mary,” he said to the nurse manager who’d walked them to the room.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” she whispered as he walked past her through the doorway.

“Tell Gayle not to expect any more specialty coffee deliveries while I’m out on patrol.”

Mary smiled.

“If you wanted to keep Abbie and me your dirty little secret,” Jena snapped, “why did you bring us someplace where you obviously know people?” She laid Abbie down on the paper-lined exam table and began to undress her.

Because he’d been thinking of his daughter, of getting her the best and quickest medical care available. Since he visited the urgent care center regularly in the course of his work and provided their evening security guards through his side business, he knew they’d take him in immediately. And despite Gayle’s big mouth among the staff, he trusted their discretion when it came to outsiders.

Mary placed a disposable liner on the baby scale and Jena picked up Abbie and placed her on the scale like a pro. Justin took the first opportunity to really examine the baby he’d helped to create. Ten tiny fingers opening then closing into fists. Ten tiny toes attached to the most adorable little feet. A round head with baby-fine wisps of blonde hair. An innie belly button. A cutie pie.

Jena reported an uneventful pregnancy. Justin was happy to hear that. She took the thermometer probe from Mary, placed the tip in Abbie’s armpit and held her arm to her side.

“You a nurse?” Mary asked Jena. Who nodded.

As far as he knew the only nursing she’d done was taking care of her mother who’d been physically and mentally disabled as a result of a traumatic brain injury. When she’d died a few years ago, Jena took on the role of social secretary to her jerk of a brother.

“But right now I’m more nervous first-time mom than nurse,” Jena continued. “So don’t assume I know anything.”

“Got it,” Mary said. “I have two of my own.” The thermometer beeped.

“No fever,” Mary said. “Any allergies?”

“Not that I know of.” Jena picked up Abbie, held her naked body to her chest, and covered her with a pink knit baby blanket. While swaying from side to side she rattled off brand of formula, feeding amounts/frequency/tolerance, and bowel habits. All stuff a father should know, so Justin paid close attention.

“I’ll get Dr. Morloni in here as soon as I can,” Mary said.

“Thanks.” Justin opened the door for her. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what are you doing here so late?”

“Denise quit. At least tonight I have help. Tomorrow and Sunday I’m on all alone. You know any nurses looking for work?”

“What hours?” Jena asked.

“Four p.m. to twelve a.m. Why? You interested?”

“If I can work off my bill for this visit,” Jena answered.

At the same time Justin blurted out, “No she is not interested. She’s the mother of six-week-old twins. She needs to be home to take care of them.”

For a split second Jena flashed Jaci’s defiant don’t-you-dare-tell-me-what-to-do look and he waited for her temper to flare.

Mary looked up at him. “Oh, boy.”

She must have seen it too.

But Jena’s expression quickly turned neutral and rather than yell, she remained composed and calmly said, “My decision to work or not to work is one in which you have no say. And whether I care for the twins myself or arrange for someone to care for them in my absence, I won’t ever request or expect any assistance from you. So rest assured. My returning to town and returning to work will in no way impact your life. Feel free to carry on as if we don’t exist.”

Wow. A few well-chosen words really could sting as much as a slap across the face.

“You’re an idiot,” Mary said to him. Jena got a smile and a, “We’ll talk before you leave, hon. Look,” she pointed at Abbie who lay fast asleep in her mother’s arms.

Jena cupped Abbie’s head, closed her eyes and let out a relieved breath.

“Sit,” Mary whispered. “Might as well have the doctor take a quick look since you’re already here.”

“I’m afraid if I move she’ll start to cry again.” Jena gave Mary a beautiful smile that up until that point he would have bet a week’s wages she wasn’t capable of.

Once alone Justin spoke quietly, so as not to wake Abbie. “I didn’t mean to come off like you needed to stay with the babies twenty-four seven because I don’t want anything to do with them.” It was more about his daughters not being shuffled around between caregivers like he’d been. About them being able to sleep in their own beds and wake up in familiar surroundings. About them having a space that belonged to them where they felt safe and loved and welcome. “I don’t know the first thing about how to care for them. But I’ll do what I can to help.” Although children had never been part of his plan for the future, now that he had them, he would damn well do a better job at fathering than his father had.

“Wow. You’re full of surprises.” Jena gave him a small half-smile. “I thought for sure you’d demand a paternity test to try to prove they weren’t yours.”

He laughed. Tried to keep quiet but couldn’t help himself. “Honey, if you were intentionally trying to trap a guy into marriage, you’d have shot a hell of a lot higher than me.”

Seems he couldn’t say anything right tonight because she sucked in an affronted breath and took on a look of total outrage at his comment. “I would never, ever do such a thing.”

“Shshsh,” he reminded her to keep her voice down.

“What a horrible thing to imply,” she whispered as loud as one could whisper.

“Women do it all the time.” Just happened to one of his buddies down at the precinct, as a matter of fact.

“Well this one doesn’t.”

Of course she didn’t. Protection had been his responsibility and he’d blown it. “No. You don’t have to. You’re beautiful and rich.” What she lacked in personality she more than made up for in sex appeal. “Guys must be lining up to marry you.”

In what he recognized as another attempt at not letting him know what she was thinking, she looked away, but not before he caught a glimpse of sadness. “And that’s the only reason men would want to marry me, because of my looks and my money.”

Damn it. “That’s not what I meant.”

His phone rang. He looked at the screen, noting the caller and the time.” I have to take this.” He turned to face the wall and accepted the call. “I’m sorry,” he said to his pal Ryan. “I got tied up.” And forgot all about their Friday night poker game. He never missed that game, looked forward to hanging out with the guys. Already Jena and the babies were screwing with his life.

“Damn it, man,” Ryan said. “It was your turn to bring the beer.”

Jena spoke up from behind him, “You know I don’t think you’re supposed to use a cell phone in here.”

Ryan heard her. “No way, dude. Tell me you did not blow us off for some woman. First rule of poker night—”

“I know, I know. Never let a woman interfere with the game,” Justin finished for him. Then he lowered his voice and added, “What about two women?” After all, Abbie was there, too.

“You go, bro,” Ryan said, like Justin knew he would. “Call me later with the brag bits.”

Not likely.

He ended the call and turned around to find Jena glaring at him. “Very nice,” Jena said her words weighted down with sarcasm. “Don’t think I don’t know what you were inferring. And in the presence of your child.”

Who was all of six weeks old.

The doc knocked and walked in.

Thank you.

“Hello, Justin.” He shook Justin’s hand. “And who do we have here?”

“My daughter.” It came out a little easier that time. “She’s six weeks old.” Although he couldn’t take credit for anything more than having strong, determined swimmers, he actually felt kind of proud to have fathered such a perfect baby. Two of them, since he assumed Annie was identical.

“If she grows up to look anything like her mother you’d better keep a loaded shotgun handy at all times.”

For sure. And he’d aim it at any man who looked at the twins like Dr. Charmer—the staff’s nickname for him—was looking at Jena. A ripple of possessiveness surprised him and he imagined aiming that shotgun at Dr. C.

Jena smiled sweetly, totally taken in by the man’s spiel. “There are actually two of them. Abbie’s twin sister is at home with my twin sister.”

“Twin girls.” He patted Justin on the shoulder. “Better you than me.” He turned to Jena. “What brought you here tonight?”

As Jena recounted Abbie’s medical history and the events leading up to their visit, Justin watched her, determined to learn the differences between her and Jaci. Right away he noted Jena was softer, more feminine and well-spoken. Proper. And, apparently easily taken in by a handsome, sweet-talking male as she hung dreamily on every word Dr. Charmer uttered. “It’s none of your business what’s going on between us,” Justin intervened, feeling unusually territorial. Jena was the mother of his children. And he’d be damned if he would stand by and watch her fall prey to some hound dog doctor, or allow any other male a spot in his daughters’ lives. They were his.

Life had just gotten infinitely more complicated.

“Just making small talk,” Dr. Charmer said finally getting down to the exam. If nothing else, the nurses all agreed he was an excellent doctor with a superior—albeit a bit flirty—bedside manner.

Abbie did not like Dr. Charmer’s stethoscope in contact with her skin or his fingers pressing on her belly or having a scope shoved in her ears and she screamed in protest.

Granted, Justin was no doctor, but based on what he could see and hear: Lungs: healthy. Vocal cords: working fine Temper: check plus.

Tough stuff, like her namesake, and his Grandma Abbie would have loved her at first glance. Justin had a sudden urge to hold his daughter and protect her from the man upsetting her, like a dad should.

Probably better to wait until she had some clothes on.

“She looks good,” Dr. Charmer said. “You can get her dressed.”

“Would you hand me the diaper bag?” Jena asked Justin.

He placed it on the head of the exam table.

Jena took out what she needed.

“Her ears look fine,” Dr. Charmer said. “Her lungs are clear. She has good bowel sounds. No abdominal tenderness. No visible injuries. She’s moving her extremities freely. If I had to guess, I’d say she had a bout of gas. If it happens again, it may be colic. Talk to your pediatrician.”

“Can you recommend a good one?” Jena asked. “I’ve done some inquiring but haven’t decided who to use. Two more weeks and the girls will need their next round of immunizations.”

“You know in addition to urgent care cases we handle routine pediatrics by appointment, if you’re interested.”

She wouldn’t be. The urgent care center wasn’t near upscale enough for Jena.

“That’d be great,” she said with a smile brighter than any he’d ever seen on Jaci. “Would it be okay if I requested you?”

No. Dr. Blake was a much better choice. Portly, married, Dr. Blake.

“I’d be insulted if you didn’t.”

He was going to be a lot more than insulted when Justin got finished with him.

What the heck was happening? Jena was the quiet one. The mousey one. The stuck up one. People didn’t like her. Yet Mary did. And Dr. Charmer did—to the point Justin felt it necessary to attend every pediatric appointment from today on to prevent Jena from falling victim to his charm.

With Abbie diapered and dressed, Jena struggled to hold her and pour water into a bottle.

“I can hold her,” Justin offered.

“It’s okay,” Jena said, taking a can of formula out of the diaper bag.

“I want to.” She was his daughter and a good father would want to hold her.

Jena looked up at him. “Thank you,” she said. “For not questioning if I was sure they were yours. For taking this much better than I’d thought you would.”

Frankly he still felt sort of numb. But one thing he knew for certain, he’d do right by his girls.

Jena placed Abbie in his arms. So small. Delicate. He felt awkward, his hands too rough, too big.

“Hold her head.” Jena positioned his hands where they needed to be then measured the formula powder and dumped it into the bottle. “I need a microwave.”

“Down the hall to the right, third door on your left will be the staff break room.”

Alone with his crying daughter for the first time the responsibility of parenthood hit him. What did he know about being a father? To girls, no less. About feeding them and dressing them and getting them to stop crying? Absolutely nothing. He swayed and rubbed Abbie’s back the same way he’d watched Jena do it. “Daddy’s got you while mommy’s heating up your bottle.”

Daddy and mommy. One of each. How he’d wished for a real mommy of his own when he’d been little. Grandma Abbie had tried. But she’d been old and tired. To be honest, he’d wished for a real daddy of his own, too. One who showed an interest in his kid by visiting his classroom on career day and attending baseball practices and games. One who took his kid out to dinner and enjoyed spending time with him instead of constantly looking for places to dump him so he could entertain women too numerous to remember any one in particular without interruption.

Jena returned. “Mary said they don’t have anyone waiting for the room so we can take as long as we like.”

He looked at the bottle and saw his hand reaching for it.

“You don’t have to—”

Something strange happened. The man who had never before felt an inclination to hold or feed or have any contact with a baby said, “I want to,” be the one to get his daughter to stop crying, which feeding her at this moment would hopefully do.

“Okay. Sit down.” He did and Jena repositioned Abbie in his arms. “Keep her head elevated.” He touched the nipple to Abbie’s lips and she latched onto it like she hadn’t eaten in weeks.

They both stared at their daughter, her eyes closed, the slurping of her contentedly sucking the only sound in the quiet room. It was a moment he’d never forget. And an opportunity to ask a question that’d been gnawing away at him since the morning he’d learned he’d slept with Jena not Jaci. “Why did you do it?” He looked up at Jena who’d taken a seat on the exam table. “Why did you have sex with me knowing I thought you were Jaci?”

Jena hopped off the exam table and walked over to the small sink. Her back to him she said, “I had a bit of a … fascination with you back in high school.”

The surprises of the evening just kept on coming.

She opened a drawer and looked inside. “I joined the astronomy club because of it.” She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “So daddy would buy me a high-powered telescope.”

She closed one drawer and opened another. “Did you know with the assistance of said high-powered telescope it was possible to see from the walk-in attic in the new wing of our house directly down the hill into your bedroom at your dad’s house?”

He smiled. No he did not know that. “So you and Jaci—”

She whipped around. “Not Jaci. Only me. She didn’t know. I swear.”

Did she think he was mad? Actually, it kind of turned him on to think of her watching him in his bedroom.

She played with a Band-Aid wrapper. “You did a lot more studying than you let on in school.”

Because no one gave his dad a free ride so he shouldn’t expect one. Funny how that memory presented itself in his dad’s booming voice.

“You need to burp her.” Jena came over, spread a cloth on his shoulder and showed him what to do. He breathed in her scent, similar to Jaci but more floral and fresh. He made a mental note of the difference.

“I did a lot more than study in that room and you know it.” He watched her reaction to that statement and sure enough she started to look away, but not before he caught the tinge of deep pink on her pale cheeks. “You voyeur,” he teased.

She didn’t apologize or try to explain. “You looked gentle, like you truly cared for each one of them. Sometimes you lit candles.”

Whatever it took to get the girl of the moment into his bed.

“Before we’d met up at the bar, I’d had a terrible fight with my brother over him pressuring me to marry a man I didn’t know and had heard terrible things about.”

Abbie must have sensed his tension because she started to fret. Or maybe it was the burp that followed that’d riled her up. “Good, girl,” Jena said. “Now you can give her some more of the bottle.” He got Abbie set up to finish the bottle on his own. And felt a bit proud of that, as stupid as it may seem.

“Anyway,” Jena went on. “When the bartender told me to take you home the first thing that popped into my mind wasn’t ‘Ooooh goodie, now’s my chance to get him into bed.’ I wanted to get you home safely. And I figured I’d have a better chance of you coming with me thinking I was Jaci than knowing I was Jena.”

She had that right. “You made the first move,” Justin pointed out. For what reason he had no idea, just he felt it needed to be said.

“I know.” She did not look at all repentant. “In your condo, you and me alone, I remembered how good it’d felt to have your hands on me down at the lake. I wanted that again. I wanted more. With you. I didn’t want to lose my virginity to a man I had no feelings for, one who would only be marrying me for my trust fund. I wanted to share the experience with you.”

Because she’d seen him treat other women gently. Yet he’d been too drunk to notice her inexperience or have a care with her untried body or even protect her. If Abbie wasn’t in his arms he’d have banged his head against the wall until he achieved a level of pain he deserved. Or went unconscious. Whichever came first.

“Anyway,” she shrugged. “It’s done. And the next time will be better because I’ll know what to expect and hopefully the man I’m with will be telling me how special I am and how good I feel.”

Justin had spent so much time wondering why she’d done the switcheroo he’d never considered what it must have been like for her. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, it’s not your fault,” Jena said.

Then her words registered. “Next time it will be better.” “When you say ‘next time it will be better’ does that mean you haven’t been with anyone since me?”

Jena plucked a wooden tongue depressor from a canister on the counter by the sink and tapped it on her palm. “Turns out morning and evening sickness, exhaustion and maneuvering around with a big, fat pregnant belly didn’t put me in much of a mood to go looking for love. Therefore, as of this moment, you remain my one and only,” she said.

It shouldn’t matter, but he kind of liked being her one and only.