Читать книгу A Weaver Baby - Allison Leigh - Страница 11

Eating dinner in the mansion wasn’t anything like J.D. had expected it to be.

They were seated in the formal dining room around a linen-draped table that could have sat a football team, but there was nothing formal about the meal.

Jake had a stack of papers next to his plate and seemed content to split his attention between them and J.D.

Of his sons’ actions that afternoon, he was evidently not planning to make any more comment. At least not in front of her.

Zach and Connor sat at the table, too, but since her Chinese food had taken the edge off their appetites, they paid more attention to the electronic hand-held games they were playing than they did to the meal. And that was set on the table by Jake’s aunt.

Her legs felt unsteady and she sank down into her chair again looking from Jake to his boys and back again.

Would he show as little interest in their child as he seemed to show for his twins? Would he have his secretary make arrangements to pack her off to boarding school when she inevitably got up to mischief? Would he practically ignore her every time they sat down together for a meal?

The thoughts made J.D. a little dizzy and she quickly reached for the crystal water goblet, inelegantly sucking down half of its contents.

Of all things, that Jake seemed to notice. “Are you all right? You look pale.”

Heat streamed through her cheeks, right on up to the tips of her ears. “Fine. It’s just been a long day.”

His lips twisted. “That it has been.”

Her gaze flicked to the boys. Neither one looked up from their hand-held games, despite the plate of food their aunt set in front of them.

Susan took the seat next to J.D.

“Put your papers aside, Jake. What sort of example are you setting?” Her gaze went to the boys. They’d stopped playing their games in favor of pulling ghastly faces at each other.

“Zach, Con, put the games away,” he said. Though he didn’t set aside his papers at all, J.D. noticed. She also noticed just how tired and drawn he really looked. It seemed plain that the past few weeks had taken a toll on him.

Then Jake’s gaze encountered hers and try though she might, she couldn’t quite make herself look away.

Susan’s intentionally cheerful attempts at conversation with the boys faded into the background.

J.D.’s field of vision seemed to narrow and pinpoint on the quizzical lift of Jake’s eyebrow.

Even the air seemed to thicken until her lungs struggled for oxygen.

“Whoa.” Jake suddenly bolted from his chair, catching her before she slid sideways off her chair.

“Dude,” she heard one of the boys—probably Connor—breathe.

“Take it easy.” Jake’s voice came close to her ear and she frowned, focusing with an effort.

Her head was swimming. “What?”

“You looked about ready to faint,” Jake said.

His hands were on her shoulders, she realized. She could feel the press of his fingertips through her T-shirt and much too easily she remembered that night.

The night they’d conceived a baby that she’d believed she’d never have.

Her stomach clutched. “I’m sorry.”

“Here.” Susan was nudging a water goblet toward them. “Give her some water.”

Jake lifted the glass to J.D.’s lips and it was just easier to succumb than to fight. She sipped at the water, and gradually, the room seemed to straighten.

The line between his brows had deepened even more. This close, she could see his eyes were bloodshot.

How long had it been since he’d slept?

She straightened in her chair, pressing her shaking hands along the sides of the upholstered seat. “I’m fine.”

“We can all see that.” Jake didn’t smile.

“Here you go, dear.” Susan had managed to fill a plate with food and she set it in front of J.D. “A little food and you’ll be good as new.”

There was nothing unappetizing about the juicy pot roast and roasted vegetables, but J.D.’s stomach lurched horribly anyway. “Actually, if I could just freshen up for a moment?” Still feeling dizzy around the edges, nausea forced her rapidly to her feet and she practically ran out of the room when Susan pointed out the directions.

J.D. barely made it to the fancy powder room near the marble foyer before she lost her lunch.

After, she rinsed her mouth and sat on the closed commode with the sink faucet still running, and pressed her face into her hands.

Since the moment that the big blue plus sign had appeared on the home pregnancy test she’d taken, she’d felt myriad things. But this was the first time she’d felt the slightest hint of morning sickness.

It made her pregnancy seem a little more real. She didn’t know whether that made her want to laugh or cry.

“J.D.?” The concern in Susan’s voice was evident even through the closed door. “Do you need anything?”

J.D. dropped her hands and looked at her reflection in the mirror opposite her. A husband?

“No.” She cleared her throat, and looked away from the mirror. Becoming pregnant had thrown her for a loop, a joyous one certainly, but that didn’t mean she was entertaining ideas about orange blossoms and I do’s.

She was 31 years old and more than ready to be a mother. But a wife?

She hadn’t been able to stay faithful to Donny and he was the closest she’d ever come to even considering marriage.

“No, thank you,” she finished more clearly, and turned off the water before opening the door. “I’m fine,” she insisted. “It’s the heat. It’s just getting to me more than usual today.”

Susan’s eyes, so like her nephew’s, weren’t convinced, but it was probably her good manners that kept her from arguing the point. “It is awfully hot,” she agreed, and fell in step with J.D. as they headed back to the dining room. “I’d like to think the boys were simply miserable hiding in the back of your pickup truck the way they did,” she confided softly. “It might make them think twice next time before pulling another stunt.”

“Did’ja throw up?” Zach asked the second she entered the dining room.

“Zach,” Jake admonished.

The boy hunched his shoulders and jabbed his fork back into the slice of pie on his plate. “What? I was just curious.”

“Maybe you got the flu,” Connor suggested. “I got it last year. I got to miss a whole week of school ’cause of it. It was cool even if I did gotta throw up. Do you get to miss work now?”

“I don’t have the flu,” J.D. said. “I certainly don’t have to miss work.”

“Maybe you should,” Jake suggested. “Miguel told me there was a bug going around down there. Maybe you’ve caught it.”

The bug she had wasn’t exactly catching.

But it did provide an excuse and she greedily latched onto it. “Maybe so. Which means I should go before I spread it to all of you.”

“Jake, she shouldn’t drive,” Susan protested.

“No, really—”

“My aunt is right.” Jake set down his pen and stood. “I’ll drive you home.”

“No!” She seemed to be saying that quite a lot now, when she ought to have said it that night in the stable, eight weeks ago. “Truly,” she tried in a more reasonable tone, “it’s not necessary. I’ll be fine.” She started backing out of the room again. “I, um, I even have the entire weekend to rest up. Stay here with your family. Enjoy your meal.” Though, with the exception of Sophie, it didn’t look like anyone was enjoying themselves much. “Thanks.” She gave a little wave and turned on her boot heel, hurrying back toward the foyer.

Rude or not, she wanted—needed—to get out of there.

The stress inside the Forrest mansion was absolutely palpable and while she felt some sympathy for Jake’s boys, she wasn’t in any position to change anything.

She had a pretty good-sized situation of her own to resolve already.

She made it all the way to the front door and out to the wide front step before Jake caught up to her. “Hold it.”

Feeling like a disobedient schoolgirl did nothing to improve her sense of awkwardness.

She forced her tight shoulders down where they belonged and looked back at him, lifting one eyebrow.

She worked for him, and yes, she’d been unthinkingly careless to have unprotected sex with him, but that didn’t mean she was his to order around. Not when she wasn’t on his time clock. “Excuse me?”

His tired face tightened. “Wait, J.D., please,” he amended. “I’ll drive you home. You’re in no condition—”

She quickly went down the shallow steps. “I said I’m fine!”

Again, he caught up to her, this time taking hold of her arm to stop her flight.

Her pulse stuttered as she looked from his hand to his face.

A muscle flexed in his jaw and his hand slowly fell away. “Do you dislike me that much now that you can’t accept a simple offer?”

Shock swept through her. Dislike wasn’t at all what she felt when he touched her. “I don’t dislike you.”

His hands spread slightly. “Well, honey, it’s definitely feeling that way.”

She raked her hand over her hair, and yanked out the band around her ponytail when her fingers tangled in it. Her hair fell loose and heavy past her shoulders. “Jake, it’s just not a good idea. Okay?”

“Why? Because you’re afraid that people might—” he ducked his head toward her and lowered his voice “—talk?”

“Go ahead and make fun. You’re up here in your ivory mansion.” She jerked her chin toward the copse of trees that led down to the stables. “I’m down there with a half dozen guys who gossip worse than any quilting circle they have back home.” She came from Weaver, Wyoming, a small town with its own highly developed grapevine. She knew gossip, and the guys she spent most of her time with were some of the worst. “All I need is for someone to catch a glimpse of me riding around in that car of yours, and I’ll be suffering through their trying to get me to trip up where you’re concerned.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Miguel believes you assigned Lat exclusively to me because I exercised my feminine wiles over you!”

“I told him—”

She huffed out a breath. “It doesn’t matter what you told him. It doesn’t matter what you say. They judge based on what they see and what much more interesting story their minds can create. They’re a group who believes in the theory of where there’s smoke, there’s fire.” And heaven knew there’d been plenty of fire between Jake and J.D. that night.

When she wasn’t trying to figure out what was the best thing to do now, she was still feeling scorched by the memory of those flames.

“I’ll get Miguel straightened out.”

She couldn’t help but laugh a little, though there wasn’t much humor in it. “The more you try to fix the situation with Miguel, the more he’s going to think what he already thinks.” Her hands lifted to her sides. “And the fact of the matter is, he’s right. You assigned Lat to me because…because—”

“I thought we’d gotten that straightened out.”

“All we did was put off the matter while you dealt with your wife’s accident.”

“I told you before. Ex-wife,” he corrected.

Her gaze snuck to the mansion behind him. The gracious dwelling had never possessed a replacement for her—the only woman he’d ever cared enough about to marry. “It doesn’t matter anyway.” She drew her thoughts away from that direction back to where they belonged. Everything that went on in the tight, surprisingly small world of thoroughbred racing had to do with reputation. All Miguel had to do was voice one hint that J.D.’s “promotion” where Latitude was concerned occurred because of her personal relationship with Jake, and she’d never be judged on her real merit again. She’d never be taken seriously as a trainer once she left Forrest’s Crossing.

That would be true even if there were only rumors.

Jake’s gaze sharpened even more. “If it doesn’t matter, why are you making an issue about it?”

No matter what Jake’s reaction would be when he learned about the baby, she knew she couldn’t continue to work for him. And thanks to the gossip about them, she wouldn’t be able to work anywhere else. Not in the blood horse world, anyway.

She hadn’t gone to him before to resign, though he’d thought so at the time. It was almost ironic, really. Even without knowing she was pregnant with his child, he’d seen that reality before she had.

“I can’t work here anymore, Jake,” she said. “I’m sorry.” And she really was.

“I don’t want you to go.”

Something inside her clutched—hard. Her hands went sweaty and she swallowed. “Why?”

His jaw flexed. “Latitude runs for you, J.D., and you know how much I want to be in the winner’s circle at the Derby next May.”

She prided herself on having her eyes open where Jake was concerned. So the pang she felt was considerably sharper than it should have been. “Latitude runs because he loves it. But Miguel will have Platinum ready for the Kentucky Derby, too. He has just as good a chance as Latitude. And the Derby is still eight months away, anyway. Tell Miguel to put his nephew Pedro on his back for the Champagne Stakes. I’ve seen the kid on the track and with Latitude. He’ll do fine. And if Miguel isn’t the right handler, you’ll find someone else who is.”

“I already did,” he said pointedly.

The back of her throat felt tight and achy. On any other day, she might have felt like she was coming down with the bug that was going around the place. For Jake, everything revolved around him winning. And it was the height of irony that it was the colt she so loved that was now making it more impossible than ever. “I can’t stay, Jake.”

“Because of what I did to you.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, pained. “What we did.” Honesty wouldn’t allow her to let him shoulder that. “For heaven’s sake, Jake, I was more than willing, in case you’ve forgotten.”

He shoved his hands through his hair, then scrubbed his palms down his face. “Willing or not, I should’ve known better.” He dropped his hands, but the grimace was still there. “You’re the kind of woman who probably thinks you’re supposed to want to marry a man when you’re sleeping with him. Or at least be in love with him.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “You’re saying that you’re not old-fashioned when it comes to sex? You, who hadn’t done this in a long while?”

She flushed. Trust the man to remember what she’d said to him that night. “Being discriminating doesn’t necessarily mean a person is old-fashioned.”

“Then why the hell can’t you work here, anymore?”

Tell him.

The command circled inside her head. Her lips parted; the words sitting on the tip of her tongue, ready to trip off.

That ache returned to the back of her throat. She’d seen him with his sons. She looked up at Jake. “Because I’m going home,” she finally said.

His brows drew together. “Home. What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Her eyes stung and she looked back at her practical, dusty pickup that looked so incongruous sitting behind his expensive sports car. “It means home. Where I belong,” she finished huskily. “Home to Wyoming.”