Читать книгу The Prodigal Bride - Beth Cornelison - Страница 9

Standing on her parents’ front porch, Zoey drew a deep breath, shelved her pride. She mustered the nerve to face her father’s I-told-you-sos and the crestfallen disapproval in her mother’s eyes. Gage reassured her with a gentle shoulder squeeze that stirred warmth in her belly. Although glad to have him beside her, bolstering her courage, this was her battle, her mess to clean up, and she couldn’t rely on him to be her knight this time, swooping in to save her from her parents’ disenchantment.

Within seconds of Zoey’s firm knock on the massive mahogany door, her mother answered the summons, her face reflecting first shock, then joy, before the first hints of suspicion and concern etched creases around her eyes. “Zoey! Honey … I—What—?”

Her mother clapped a hand to her chest as if trying to catch her breath. Ellen Bancroft’s gaze darted to Gage before returning to her prodigal daughter.

“Surprise.” Zoey forced a grin, her heart tap-dancing in her chest. “I’m home and … I have news. Is Dad around?”

“Yes, somewhere. Come in.” Her mother ushered them inside, greeting Gage with a hug.

“Neil, it’s Zoey and Gage! Where are you?” Ellen called toward the kitchen, then waved them toward the family room couch.

On the mantel, Zoey spotted the newest framed pictures in her parents’ collection. Wedding pictures for both of her older sisters, a family shot of Holly with her husband and her new stepchildren, and a cameo of Paige and her husband, Jake, at the ribbon cutting of their new private security firm. A twinge of jealousy nipped at her. Her sisters had success, family, careers … a multitude of reasons their parents could be proud. Zoey’s picture was conspicuously missing. But, then, what had she done lately that was memorable or photo-worthy?

Sibling rivalry was nothing new to her. She’d long been falling short of her sisters’ high-water marks. She’d learned early in life that she didn’t have the good grades and ambition that earned praise for Paige or the good behavior and sweet disposition that garnered Holly their parents’ endearments. She’d fought her restless nature, struggled to make passing grades, but her adventurous impulses continually led her into mischief and her parents’ bad graces.

Then in junior high, she’d discovered drama club. She could be melodramatic, loud and over-the-top, and people approved. She could pretend to be someone else, and her family applauded. She’d found her niche in acting, a way to live her life in bold gestures and big emotions, and her family didn’t roll their eyes in frustration or shake their heads in dismay.

But when high school ended, so had her acting career. She’d abandoned the stage in pursuit of new adventures—Europe after graduation. A half-dozen attempts to find a career that had a brighter future than that of starving actor. Then Derek.

The thud of footsteps on the hardwood hall floor preceded Neil Bancroft’s appearance at the study door. When he spotted Zoey, he stilled, stared, then crossed the room in three giant steps to fold his daughter in a warm embrace. “Welcome home, sweetheart. Are you all right?”

Zoey’s throat tightened with emotion. She hadn’t expected her father’s affectionate greeting, considering the acrimony of their last conversation in this room. Still pressed against her father’s chest, she nodded, not trusting her voice. Finally, Neil stepped back, squaring his shoulders. Shaking from her rioting emotions, Zoey sank onto the couch next to her husband. Her husband. Leapin’ lizards.

Gage rose long enough to shake Neil’s hand in greeting. Her father nodded a welcome before casting a quick look around the room. “Is he here, too?”

Her father’s tone of voice, his derogatory emphasis, left no question of whom he meant. Zoey bristled at her father’s shift into a combative demeanor, and Gage, clearly reading her body language, placed a hand on her knee, silently advising patience. The warmth of his hand seeped through her jeans and stirred a giddy flutter in her belly. The memory of their wedding kiss teased the edges of her thoughts, rattling her further. Why did Gage have this unnerving effect on her now? Was it just because they were married? Biting her lip, she fumbled for composure before answering her father. “No. He … we broke up.”

She divided a glance between her parents, gauging their reaction to this news. Her father arched a graying eyebrow, indicating he expected an explanation, while her mother’s expression lit with hope and relief. Beside the couch where Zoey perched, a large grandfather clock stood sentinel over the room, while its ticktocking reverberated in the ensuing quiet like a game-show timer, urging her to continue.

Her father crossed his arms and cocked his head. “How much did he take you for?”

His confidence in his question chafed. Zoey raised her chin, vacillating between, “Who says he took me for anything?” and the truth. But what good would denials do, other than salve her pride for a few seconds before she came clean?

She rubbed her palms on her jeans and huffed a sigh. “Everything.”

Her mother gasped. Her father groaned. Gage wrapped his hand around hers and squeezed. The gesture, in the face of her parents’ obvious dismay and disappointment in her, was like landing in an unexpected safety net after a ten-story fall.

I’m here. I stand with you. I care. His unspoken support brought tears to her eyes.

Neil Bancroft narrowed his eyes and frowned. “Your savings?”

She nodded.

“Your inheritance?”

More tears prickled her eyes. Shame was a bitter pill. “Everything.”

“Criminy, Zoey!” Neil shoved a hand through his silver hair. “I knew this would happen. I told you he was—”

“A jerk and a loser and a freeloader, and I didn’t listen because I was in love.” Zoey shoved to her feet, raising her voice to be heard over her father’s. “I know. You were right, and I screwed up. Again. I’m a disappointment to the family, and the worst daughter ever. Does that about cover it?”

“No, honey! Don’t say that.” Her mother rushed over to her, placing herself between her husband and daughter. “You’re a wonderful daughter, and we love you.”

“What about your stock in the company? Your shares of Bancroft Industries?”

“Neil!” Ellen sent her husband a quelling look.

But Zoey’s spirits lifted. She’d forgotten her stake in the family business, small though it was. Derek hadn’t gotten everything. “No.” Relief filled her tone. Her smile welled from inside her, and she turned to Gage before answering her father. “I still have my stock.”

Her father dragged a hand over his face as he stalked to a wingback chair and sat down. “Well, that’s something anyway.”

Her mother gave her father another scolding look, then turned to Zoey with a stiff smile. “You said you had news. Good news?”

The hopeful tone of her mother’s question, as if she didn’t really expect good news and was bracing for the worst, raked through Zoey. Not that she could blame her mom. Zoey had more often than not been the bearer of bad news. She’d gotten detention for cutting class. She’d maxed out her credit card. She wasn’t going to college. She’d gotten arrested at an environmental group’s protest rally and needed to be bailed out of jail.

Yeah, she’d dropped a few bombs in her day. And today’s missile had an atomic warhead.

“Um, well …” When she hedged, Gage shoved to his feet and slid an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. The press of his hard body against hers brought a flush to her skin from her scalp to her toes.

“Yes. Good news. Very good news.” His voice was strong, confident and happy. He gave her a side glance that said Trust me.

Her father raised his eyebrow. Go on.

Her mother leaned forward, her expression eager.

Zoey opened her mouth, then closed it, the words stuck in her throat. I’m pregnant.

When she faltered, Gage jumped in again. “We’re married.” She could hear a smile in his voice as he made the announcement, and Zoey’s heart tripped.

Her parents stared, mouths gaping.

“It was an impromptu thing, but heartfelt,” he continued. “I’ve been waiting ten years for her to say yes, so when she did, I didn’t waste time and give her the chance to back out.”

Shock gave way to joy on her mother’s face, and her father sat back in his chair nodding his approval. And why not? Gage had always been like a son to them, thanks to his many hours with the family, his place at the table for holiday meals, his help with yard work, repairs and washing dishes. When each of his parents died, her parents had anonymously paid for the funerals, though Gage had figured out easily enough who’d made the generous gesture.

Gage stroked his hand from her shoulder to her arm and hugged her to his side, beaming, playing his part as a newlywed to a T. Apparently, he should have been on the stage instead of working on the sets during high school. The guy had a hidden acting talent, currently out in force. Zoey almost believed that he was really as blissful as he pretended about their I’m-saving-your-ass, not-really-real marriage of convenience. And like a lust-crazed honeymooner’s, her nerve endings crackled in response to his tender touch, and a hum of desire coiled in her belly.

Although distracted by her reaction to Gage, she summoned a bit of her own thespian talent and flashed a smile to her parents. “And …” She paused for dramatic effect as if she were spilling the best part, instead of the catch. “We’re expecting. I’m pregnant.”

The shock returned. More gaping.

Zoey’s cheeks felt leaden as she tried to hold her smile in place. “I’m due in April.”

Ellen pressed her hand to her mouth. “Oh, Zoey, Gage, congratulations! I’m so happy for you.” She stepped up to them and drew them both into a group hug. “This is such a surprise … except not really. I always had a feeling you two might end up together. Oh!” Her mother laughed and kissed Gage’s cheek. “Welcome to the family, honey.”

Zoey peered around Gage as her mother hugged him again, and they exchanged more pleasantries. Her father hadn’t said anything yet, and his gaze was directed toward the floor.

His expression boded ill. He didn’t appear mad exactly. More confused, skeptical.

She swallowed hard. Oh, Lord. He was doing the math. When he met her gaze, Zoey knew she was busted.

“The baby isn’t Gage’s, is it?”

Her mother and Gage fell silent, turning toward Neil when he spoke. Zoey’s heart thumped. She said nothing.

“It’s Derek’s baby. Am I right?” Her father’s expression sagged with disenchantment.

Zoey raised her chin, working to keep her hurt and frustration from coloring her tone. But failing. “It’s my baby. That’s what matters.”

“And that’s why Gage married you,” he spoke softly, but his tone radioed his disillusionment. “Because you were pregnant, and Derek had dumped you.”

“Maybe I dumped Derek.” Semantics, she knew, but Zoey felt compelled to put a more positive spin on the matter. “What matters is I saw his true stripes, and he’s out of my life.”

Or so she hoped. She could still hear the desperation in his voice as she and Gage drove away from the Vegas motel. You haven’t heard the last of me, Red! You owe me!

She suppressed a shudder. It would be just like Derek to haunt her life the way the acrid scent of his cigarettes clung to her clothes.

“So Gage only married you to save your reputation and give your baby a n—”

“Actually, sir,” Gage interrupted, his voice firm. “I married Zoey for the reasons I gave earlier. I care for Zoey and always have. I wanted to marry her.”

Zoey’s heart pattered with a bittersweet ache. Her hero. Rescuing her from her father’s condemnation. He really was putting on quite a good show for her parents’ sake. She studied the firm set of his mouth and marveled again at the changes in him, the rugged appeal of his square jaw and harsh cheekbones.

“And you don’t have a problem with raising another man’s baby?” Her father seemed shocked, suspicious. “Do you have any idea how much a baby costs? You understand she has no savings anymore. The burden of paying for this baby will fall to you, son.”

“My friendship with Zoey has never had anything to do with money, how much she had or didn’t have. And I’m sure I will love her baby as if it were my own. Just like Zoey will care for my niece with genuine affection.”

Appreciation for Gage’s defense of her warmed Zoey’s heart, but guilt sliced through her in its wake. This was her mess. She couldn’t let Gage fall on the sword for her. She had to stand up to her father’s chastisement, take the blame for her mistakes and take responsibility for turning her life around. Starting with facing the truth and not hiding behind a sham marriage.

“Your niece?” Her father cocked his eyebrow in his do-tell way again.

Enough. She stepped forward, squaring her shoulders as she faced her father. “Okay, yes. The baby is Derek’s. I realize that I’ve let you down.” Her voice cracked, and she slapped a hand to her chest. “I’ve let me down. I have no reason to expect you to be happy about my circumstances, but Gage was willing to sacrifice everything to help me.” She raised her chin and leveled a steady gaze on her father. “So don’t judge Gage or his choices. He’s doing this all for me, and I love him for it.”

She felt Gage stiffen beside her, sensed more than saw the startled glance he shot toward her. “And yes, our marriage is more of a business arrangement than a love match.” She heard Gage sigh, saw her mother deflate, recognized the resignation in her father’s face. Pain plucked at her, knowing how she’d failed her parents and what her mistakes had cost Gage. Clearing the clog of emotion from her throat, she explained the symbiotic arrangement she and Gage had agreed upon. “When the time comes, we’ve agreed to a quiet … divorce.” A vise squeezed her chest so tightly that she could barely rasp the last word.

A heavy silence fell over the room, and tears stung her sinuses. Maybe coming back to Lagniappe had been a mistake. Maybe her parents would have been better off if she’d stayed away, let them think she was still happily living the life of a gypsy with her poker-playing boyfriend. Maybe accepting Gage’s proposal had been another selfish mistake that would come back to haunt her and break his heart. Even the thought of hurting him made her lungs ache until she couldn’t breathe.

She flipped her hair over her shoulder and stood taller. Too late for second-guessing. All she could do now was plow forward and do everything in her power to avoid making things worse or hurting anyone she loved any further with additional screwups.

“I’m sorry.” She heard the tremble in her voice and cleared her throat before she continued. “I know that’s not what you wanted to hear, but you deserved the truth.”

Gage pressed his mouth in a hard line of disappointment.

She tipped her head and mouthed, “What?”

He shook his head and turned his attention to the window.

“Zoey—” Her father scratched his cheek and sighed his frustration. “Marriage is not something to be taken lightly. It’s not supposed to be a business arrangement.”

“Sure it is,” she countered. “For centuries marriages were arranged for political, business and social reasons. The concept of marriage as a love match is really a rather modern concept.”

Her father grunted. “Why do you have to be so argumentative? So exasperating?”

Ellen leaned forward, jumping into the fray. “Maybe, given some time, you’ll decide that you want to stay married to Gage.” Her mother paused and divided a look between Zoey and Gage. “Maybe living together as husband and wife, you two will fall in love. You know, the best marriages are based on friendship.”

The note of forced cheer and optimism in her mother’s voice stirred a bittersweet longing inside Zoey. But she couldn’t dwell on longings and selfish wants anymore. She’d been chasing her dreams for years, leaving a trail of disappointment and heartache in her path. Time to sacrifice what she wanted to make sure no one else got hurt.

Her father took a deep breath and gave the two of them a thoughtful look. “Zoey, my father always told me that life is ten percent what happens to you and ninety percent how you respond to what happens. I hope you gave this decision careful consideration.”

She swallowed hard. Did thirty minutes as they found a wedding chapel count as careful consideration? Somehow she doubted her father would think so.

Gage slid a hand to the small of her back and nudged her toward the door. “If you’re ready, Zee, my niece has been with the babysitter for four days. We need to get home and relieve the poor gal from Pet patrol.”

Zoey’s mother rose and gave her a tight hug. “We’ll talk soon, okay? With a baby coming, there is so much to plan! Have you told your sisters about your marriage and the baby?”

Zoey’s spirits lifted. Holly and Paige. Next to Gage, her sisters were her best friends. But how would they react to her news?

“Not yet. We wanted you to be the first to know.” And she’d known if she told her sisters, her parents might have found out before she could break the news.

As they made their way to the front door, she promised to be in touch with her mother before the end of the week, shared a wisecrack with Gage about the meter running on the babysitter and monitored her father’s brooding silence.

Make the first move, her conscience nudged her while the stubborn brat in her balked.

Gage opened the front door and stood aside for her to exit first. She took a step toward the porch, then hesitated when guilt kicked her in the shin.

“Dad—”

“Zoey—” he said at the same time, and they chuckled awkwardly.

She rushed over to her father and threw her arms around his neck, like she had every night as a child when he’d walk through the door at the end of a long business day.

“I love you, Baby Bear,” he murmured as he squeezed her to his chest.

The moniker took her back twenty years to nights when her favorite bedtime event was acting out Goldilocks with her father and sisters. Blonde Holly was Goldilocks, and Paige was Mama Bear, but the most dramatic and heartfelt performance each night belonged to Zoey.

Tears puddled in her eyes and, from a throat tight with emotion, she squeaked, “I love you, too, Papa Bear.”

Gage glanced across the front seat at Zoey, who was chewing a fingernail with a vengeance. “Haven’t kicked that bad habit yet, eh, Zee?”

She paused and stared at her finger as if she hadn’t realized what she was doing until he called it to her attention. With an annoyed twist of her lips, she sat on her hands and pressed her lips into a taut line.

He tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel. “So … that went pretty well, doncha think?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Were you not in the same room with us? They hate me now.”

Gage nodded. “Oh … so that’s what ‘I love you, Baby Bear’ means. It was code for ‘I hate my daughter.’ I was wondering about that.” Remembering the lingering hug the father and daughter had shared stirred a familiar longing in Gage. He’d always envied Zoey for the family she had, the love and support. The obvious affection Zoey’s father had for her was so starkly different from the animosity and indifference he’d grown up with.

She scoffed. “You know what I mean. I’ve failed them, and they’re hurt and disappointed and disillusioned and disgusted and angry and—”

“Yeah. Maybe. Understandably so. Did you really expect anything else?”

Sighing, she pulled a hand out and nibbled a cuticle. “No.”

“They’ll get over it.” He reached over and caught her hand in his, pulling it away from her mouth. “The important thing is they love you. They’re glad to have you back home and want to see you turn things around.”

“Maybe.”

“Definitely.”

Zoey tucked her hand under her leg again and rocked her head from side to side stretching her muscles. The gesture drew his attention to the smooth ivory arch of her neck, and he squelched the urge to press his lips to the pulse point under her jaw and inhale the fruity aroma of her shampoo.

Gage made the turn into his neighborhood, and he glanced at Zoey to gauge her reaction to the modest homes along the street. His house was a far cry from the dumpy trailer he’d grown up in, but what would Zoey think of it? She’d led a life of privilege with her parents well beyond his firefighter’s salary. “So this is it,” he said, pulling into his driveway. “Home sweet home.”

A smile tugged her sensuous lips when she faced him, and it was all he could do to not steal a kiss. “I like. Did you plant the pansies by the porch?”

He cut the engine. “Not really. I bought them already in the pots at Rani’s urging.”

Her eyebrow lifted in a way reminiscent of her father’s mannerism. “Rani?”

“My babysitter. She claimed my yard needed some fall color.” He hitched his head toward the house. “She’s inside. Come meet her.”

He turned to open his car door, but Zoey stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Gage, thank you. For defending me to my dad. You didn’t have to say all that stuff about how you wanted to marry me and all.” She puffed one cheek out as she sighed and rolled her eyes. “I appreciate your putting a positive spin on things with your ain’t-this-great-news shtick.”

A heaviness settled in his chest. She’d thought he was feeding her father a line to cover for her. More evidence that she viewed their arrangement from a far different perspective than he did. As if her frankness with her parents, calling their marriage a business arrangement that would eventually end in divorce, weren’t enough to prove that point.

Sirens in his head blared, “Warning, Will Robinson!” He definitely needed to reel in his feelings and expectations or he was headed for another disaster with Zoey. One that could kill their friendship for good. His hand tightened on the door handle. “You’re welcome, but … I said it because I meant it. I’m glad you’re here.”

Angling her head, she gave him a gooey-eyed look. “You’re the sweetest. I didn’t mean to sound like I have a problem with this arrangement. I’m looking forward to spending time with you. Catching up. Rebuilding our friendship.”

Friendship. The word landed in his gut like a brick.

Hello, Powell, can I paint you a picture? She only wants to be friends.

He forced a half grin. “Okay, then. Are you ready to meet the monster?”

She chuckled. “The monster?”

“Pet. She’s precious, and I love her, but she reminds me at times of Stitch.”

“What?” Zoey’s laughter bubbled through him with the effect of champagne on an empty stomach. Warming, intoxicating …

“You know, the alien from that Disney movie? A movie she loves to watch, by the way.”

“I know who Stitch is. I just can’t believe a little girl could be that bad.”

Gage popped open his door. “My sister gave Pet little, if any, structure for the last five years, so … believe it. You’ve been warned.”

He climbed out of the SUV and hauled Zoey’s bags from the rear cargo space before heading inside.

“We’re home!” he called into the house where the scent of grilled cheese and the whimsical sounds of a cartoon wafted in from the back room.

“Uncle Gage!” Pet came charging in and tackled his legs, nearly knocking him over.

He caught her under her arms and swung her up. “Hey, Squirt. Were you good for Rani?”

“Rrrowr,” Pet growled, curling her fingers into faux-claws.

“I was afraid of that.” He nodded toward Zoey. “Pet, remember I told you before my trip that I had to go help a friend? This is Zoey. She’s going to be living with us. She’s my wife now, which makes her your aunt.”

Pet eyed Zoey warily. “Is an aunt like a stepmother? In my cartoons, the stepmother is always mean.”

Zoey grinned. “Then you’re watching the wrong cartoons because all the stepmothers I know are really nice. And aunts are even better. Aunts are fun.”

Pet’s eyes brightened, and she looked to him for confirmation.

Gage nodded. “Yep, you and Zoey can have lots of fun together.”

“Hey, Mr. Gage. How was the trip?” Rani Ogatini, a college student with the patience of a saint and an obvious love for young children, strolled in from the kitchen.

“Successful. Rani, this is Zoey Ban—er, Zoey Powell. My new wife.”

His use of his last name clearly startled Zoey, who blinked at him before shaking hands with Rani and offering a bright smile.

“So you’re Gage’s monster wrangler?” Zoey asked after the traditional pleasantries and congratulations on their wedding had been exchanged. The sweep of his bride’s gaze clearly sized up the attractive coed even as she made nice.

Rani gave her a wry grin. “Aw, Pet’s not that bad. She’s just got a lot of energy and a wild imagination.”

Gage scoffed. “You say tom-A-to, I say to-MAH-to. Seems to me she’s on a mission to find the most unusual way to end up in the emergency room at the most inconvenient hour possible.” He set Pet on the floor and ruffled her hair. “Am I right?”

“Hey, I learned a new trick!” She tugged his arm. “Wanna see me do a cannonball?”

He groaned. “I rest my case.”

Rani raised a hand. “I showed her how to put the sofa cushions on the floor and made her swear not to do her tricks without them.”

Gage nodded, impressed. “Well, that’s progress. Let me write your check, and you can be on your way. I’m sure you have plenty to catch up on after four days cooped up with Pet.”

“Anytime. I like her. She’s a hoot.” Rani faced Zoey. “I made a pot of vegetable soup and some grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner. The sandwiches are on warm in the oven.”

“Great. Thanks. I thought I knew the meaning of hungry before, but this pregnancy stuff has taught me a new definition of starved.”

Rani glanced at Gage as if she weren’t sure she’d heard Zoey correctly. He flashed his babysitter a confident smile and nodded as he tore her check out of his checkbook. “Zoey is due in April. You don’t have a problem with keeping a newborn, do you?”

“Uh … no. I …” More confused and startled blinking. “Wow. Congratulations.” She accepted the check and stuffed it in her jeans pocket without looking at it. “I’ll get out of your hair. You know how to reach me if you need me again.”

“You bet.” After Gage showed Rani out, he joined Zoey in the living room where Pet was bouncing on the sofa springs and launching herself onto a pile of cushions with an enthusiasm he was sure would translate into more daring escapades before long. God help him. “I can show you to your room now if you want.”

Zoey shook her head. “I wasn’t kidding about being starved. The room will wait. I’m not sure the baby will. Can we eat first?”

“Whatever. This is your home now. Make yourself comfortable.” To Pet, he said, “Okay, Squirt, time to eat. Wash your hands.”

Pet ignored him, climbing on the sofa to launch herself onto the cushions again.

Grasping Pet’s upper arm, he stopped her as she mounted the sofa the next time and looked straight into her eyes. “Petunia, it’s dinnertime. Go wash your hands and sit at the table.”

“No! I’m not hungry.” Pet tried to pull free, and when he didn’t release her, she jumped up and down in place with a haughty smirk on her face.

Gage took a deep breath and knelt in front of his niece, using both hands to hold her as still as a five-year-old monster could be held. “Pet, do you want time-out?”

“No!”