Читать книгу Expecting the CEO's Baby - Karen Smith Rose - Страница 11

As Blake parked behind Jenna’s apartment complex, he was bothered by the silence between them. It had seemed to drown out the music coming from the CD player during the drive back. For that one moment on the boat, he’d forgotten about their situation, about who he was and who she was, and that they might be headed to court. It had been a stupid impulse to even think about kissing her. He had practically everything a man could want. Yet Jenna Winton made him long for more.

Climbing out of his car, he closed the door and walked around to the passenger side. He knew better than to expect loyalty from a woman. He knew better than to expect anything but physical satisfaction from a relationship. Danielle Howard had taught him a valuable lesson when he was eighteen, and he’d never forgotten it. Her betrayal had pushed him toward the success he’d found. If only his father had lived to see it…if only his father had had the courage to wait for Blake to return…the courage to keep on living even when he thought his life was over.

As Jenna unfastened her seat belt and opened her door, it seemed natural to hold out his hand to her. She didn’t take it. As easily as any woman who wasn’t pregnant, she swung her legs to the pavement and stood with a dancer’s grace.

“I’ll walk you to your apartment,” he said after he closed her door.

“That’s not necessary.”

“I want to make sure you’re safely inside before I leave.” He wouldn’t mind having another look around her place. If she did get custody and brought his child home to her apartment…

He couldn’t let her have custody. He wouldn’t give up his baby. Whether he’d known it or not, for years he’d needed some connection…some bond. He knew he’d spoil a child, but he wanted his kid to have every advantage he’d never had.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked as they walked toward the building’s outside entrance.

Her question wasn’t one that was asked often. His employees and business associates usually knew exactly what was on his mind. “Why?” he returned warily.

“You looked so fierce.”

“I was thinking about the baby—what I could give him…or her.” As they started up the stairs, he asked, “Have you had a sonogram?”

She glanced at him. “Yes, but I didn’t want to know the sex. I wanted to be surprised.”

That was a way they were very different. He didn’t like surprises. “That makes shopping difficult, doesn’t it? You’d have to buy everything in green or yellow.”

“I haven’t started shopping yet,” she said quietly.

“Why not?”

They’d reached the landing when she answered, “Superstition, I guess. I just wanted to make sure everything was all right. I wanted to make sure I was really going to term with the baby.”

He took her arm. “Is there something wrong I don’t know about?”

“No. No! I just felt more comfortable waiting. Besides, Shannon told me there are good baby sales at the beginning of July.”

Thinking about what he’d learned of Jenna’s finances and the stringent budget she must be following, he wondered if she even had a room set up for the baby. “How many bedrooms do you have in your apartment?”

“Just one. But I’m going to breast-feed so I’ll have the baby in my room with me, anyway.”

With her words, his gaze dropped to her breasts. He found himself picturing—

Blanking out the image, he motioned to the hall entrance to guide her ahead of him. As they walked down the second-floor hall, Blake saw two other apartment doors were open—probably because of the problem with the air-conditioning. If there was a breeze, the residents were trying to pull it through.

An exotic-looking woman who appeared to be near forty came to the door when she saw Jenna pass. “Jenna,” she said fondly. Her hair was fixed on the top of her head with a yellow banana barrette, her cutoffs were short, and her stretch top barely contained her breasts.

Jenna greeted her neighbor with a smile and a wave. “Hi, Ramona. Staying cool?”

“I’ve been sharing Trina’s Popsicles. Want one?” The orange treat in question dripped onto her hand.

“No, thanks. I just want to get a cold shower and turn in.”

Blake asked, “Any word on when the air-conditioning will be fixed?”

Ramona looked him up and down appraisingly. Apparently liking what she saw, she smiled. “Not any time soon. The landlord said he’s waiting for a part. You know how that goes. By the way, Jenna, you have a visitor.”

Jenna stilled. “A visitor?”

“I didn’t want you to get a heart attack when you walked into your apartment. Your father’s there.”

“Do you know why?”

With a shrug, Ramona shook her head. “I dunno. When I saw him using his key, he just said something about not being able to get hold of you.”

Jenna looked chagrined. But then her expression eased again as she asked her neighbor, “Did he say anything about another counseling session?”

“No. I made sure he knew Joe was gone for good. I took Trina to church on Sunday and your dad seemed pleased. I owe him a lot. He wants Trina and me to stay safe. I want that, too.”

“You haven’t heard from Joe since you sent him packing, have you?”

“Nope. Word has it he’s in San Francisco. I don’t know why I let him treat me like I did. If it wasn’t for you sending me to your dad, I might have ended up with more than a few bruises.” As if she was embarrassed by her admission, she asked with a wink, “You been out on a date?”

Flustered, Jenna glanced at Blake. “Oh, no. No. Just business.”

“Uh-huh,” Ramona drawled with a wicked smile. “Looks to me, you know how to pick ’em.”

When Jenna turned beet red, Blake felt sorry for her. “Business” didn’t quite cover why he was here. Still, he rescued her. “Maybe we’d better see what your father wants.” He was curious about Jenna’s father and welcomed the opportunity to meet him.

Obviously relieved by his cue, Jenna said to her neighbor, “Give Trina a good-night kiss for me.”

“Will do.” Ramona was still smiling as she turned and went back into her apartment.

“She’s a friend of yours?” Blake asked, surprised.

“Ramona’s been terrific. I’ve had morning sickness on and off throughout the pregnancy. When she doesn’t hear me up and about, she knocks on the bathroom wall. It’s thin and we can talk through it. She can check on me that way.”

“Her husband was violent?”

“Joe was her boyfriend. Whenever he got drunk…” Jenna shook her head. “It was a bad situation. But after dad counseled her, she finally did what she had to do to protect her daughter.”

As Blake and Jenna stood outside her apartment door, he asked, “Why would your father be here?”

“He probably just wants to make sure I’m all right.”

Blake could certainly understand that feeling. He’d felt protective about Jenna as soon as he learned she was carrying his baby.

The table lamp beside the sofa was glowing when they stepped inside her apartment.

Jenna’s father eyed Blake suspiciously as he stood and approached her. “Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick.”

Glancing at Blake, she looked embarrassed. “I spent the afternoon with Mr. Winston.” She motioned toward him. “Blake, this is my father, Reverend Charles Seabring.”

Reverend Seabring looked Blake up and down again. “I’ve seen your picture in the paper, haven’t I? You own a security company and have very…” He hesitated, then continued, “Important clients.”

Unfortunately, Blake often did make the newspapers, usually coming away from a charity event with a tall blonde on his arm. He knew he had a reputation for being a jet-setting bachelor who never intended to settle down. That image hadn’t bothered him before. Now he knew the reverend would disapprove of any time his daughter might spend with Blake. “My company’s based in Sacramento and, yes, sometimes I am in the papers. I understand you’re a minister?”

“Yes, I am. I should be preparing my sermon for Sunday, but I was too distracted by visions of my daughter lying in a ditch somewhere. Why didn’t you answer your cell phone?”

Squaring her shoulders, she stood up to him. “Because I didn’t have it with me. I forgot to charge it last night and I was in a hurry when I left today.”

“I got that phone for you so you’d have it in an emergency. That means you have to keep it with you.”

Apparently Jenna had had enough of her father’s protective streak. Spots of color appeared on her cheeks. “I’m twenty-six, Dad. You told me that cell phone was a gift and that’s why I took it. But if it comes with strings, you can have it back. I’m not going to report in to you three times a day.”

Her father ran his hand through his thinning and graying brown hair and finally smiled. “I suppose once a day is too much to ask?”

Her expression softened. “Once a day is fine. I would have called you within the next half hour.”

Charles peered at Blake with a penetrating gaze that Blake recognized. Danielle Howard’s father had looked at him in just the same way with a mixture of fatherly disapproval and righteousness that still angered him.

“I suppose your evening with Mr. Winston isn’t over yet?” he asked Jenna.

“We have a few things to discuss,” she replied softly.

Blake could see Charles Seabring was dying to ask what, but he didn’t. Blake was sure if Jenna had been a few years younger, he would be the one who was leaving first.

“I see,” Seabring said. “Will you stop by the parsonage tomorrow?”

“I told you I would. Shirley’s going to go over everything with me so I’ll know what to do when she leaves. I’ll stop in for breakfast with you and Gary first. All right?”

Her father nodded. “I’ll tell Shirley to make those apple pancakes you like so much. Eight-thirty too early for you?”

“Eight-thirty’s fine.” Jenna walked her father to the door, and at the threshold she gave him a kiss on the cheek. When he didn’t hug her as most fathers would have, Blake decided that the minister wasn’t a demonstrative man.

Two minutes later, Jenna had closed the door and leaned against it, sighing heavily.

“Those apple pancakes come with a price, I bet,” Blake remarked. “Your father’s going to give you the third degree tomorrow, isn’t he?”

“Most likely.”

She looked so troubled, Blake wanted to take her hand. Vetoing that thought, he asked, “Does he know this baby isn’t your husband’s?” He didn’t like using that term, but he didn’t know what else to say.

“Not yet. I’m still trying to absorb it. Dad was so against the insemination in the first place. This is going to really throw him.” She shook her head. “I’m afraid it will put more distance between us.”

“Has the distance always been there?” Blake asked gently. He thought about his own father, the distance between them. After his mother’s death when Blake was twelve, his dad had pulled away from life and drowned his grief in a bottle of gin. Then, Blake hadn’t understood his father’s self-pity and sadness. He himself had dealt with the grief by playing sports harder, boxing a friend’s punching bag and studying late into the night. He and his dad had grown farther and farther apart. Everything had been unsaid for years…so much that should have been said before his father committed suicide. If they’d been able to talk…if Blake had stayed in Fawn Grove and made his father get help…or if he’d returned sooner…

“I can’t remember if Dad was different before my mother died,” Jenna answered, pulling Blake back to the here and now. “I seem to remember that he was warmer, not so serious. But afterward, it was as if he pulled the shutters closed and turned inward. And after we moved here…”

“Why did your dad move here?”

“He said he wanted Gary and me to grow up away from hustle and bustle of city life. He was pastor of a much larger congregation in Pasadena.”

When she came closer to Blake, she apologized, “I’m sorry if he was a bit rude to you. I didn’t know quite how to handle our being together today. He’s never seen me with any man but B.J. And it’s not as if we are together.”

She was enchantingly shy and altogether out of her depth. This time he did take her hand. “Jenna, I know we really haven’t worked out anything today. But I’d like you to think about joint custody.”

He saw the anguish on her face at the thought of not having her baby all the time, and he knew the same turmoil. If he was going to be a father, he really wanted to be a father twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. He’d never been committed to anything but his work, yet now he wanted to be committed to this baby. Everything he’d always worked for suddenly seemed to have a purpose.

“There isn’t going to be an easy solution to this, and I think you know that. So think about joint custody, all right?” he suggested again.

When she nodded, he could see how tormented she was by the idea, but he couldn’t do anything about that.

After she walked him to the door, they stood there in silence. He didn’t really want to go, but he knew he didn’t have a good reason to stay. “I’ll call you.” Taking a business card from the pocket of his slacks, he handed it to her. “Or you can call me. The cell phone number will get you through immediately. I never turn it off.”

She gave him a weak little smile. “Or let it go uncharged.”

He grinned. “Once in a while I forget.”

“I think you’re just trying to make me feel better. You’re the kind of man who never forgets anything,” she murmured.

“One afternoon and you think you have a handle on my character?” He was partly joking, partly serious.

“I don’t know about a handle on your character, but I think I’ve gotten to know a few things about you just as you’ve gotten to know a few things about me—a lot more about me. Rafe’s not going to be happy about that.”

“We have to find a way clear for us that’s going to be good for this baby, no matter what Pierson or my lawyer think.”

“I know that,” she said. “You should have my cell phone number, too.”

“Tell me. I’ll remember it.”

Jenna’s forehead was damp from the heat, her cheeks still rosy as she rattled it off, and he committed it to memory. His physical response to her wasn’t anything he understood. Maybe away from her he could figure it out.

Opening the door, he asked, “When are you going to tell your father about this?”

“When the time is right.”

Gazing into her velvety brown eyes, he wondered how she was going to know. He wanted to take the kiss he hadn’t taken on the boat. He wanted to hold her and let her rest her head against his shoulder. He wanted his child…and that might or might not have anything to do with Jenna.

“Take care of yourself,” he said, his voice husky.

Then he left, before needing and wanting and longing took him back more years than he wanted to count.

When Jenna let herself in the back door of the parsonage the following morning, it was a little after eight and Shirley was already busy in the kitchen. Her father’s secretary and housekeeper was in her late fifties. Her black hair was streaked with gray now and cut in a short hairdo that looked easy to maintain. She wore navy slacks and a paisley blouse this morning with an apron tied around her waist.

“It smells good in here,” Jenna said. The back screen door closed behind her.

“I’m so glad you’re joining your dad for breakfast. He’s on the phone in his office. I’m not sure Gary’s up yet.”

Jenna suspected Shirley had had feelings for her father for many years. But she never let them show, and Jenna didn’t even know for sure if her dad had noticed his secretary was interested in him. “As soon as Gary smells food, he’ll be here.”

Shirley laughed. “You’re right about that. How are you feeling?”

“I’m still having trouble with the nausea now and then, but other than that, I’m feeling great.”

Gary came into the kitchen then, dressed in jeans and a red T-shirt, his dark brown hair tousled as if he hadn’t combed it. “Hey, sis. I didn’t know you were coming to breakfast. What’s the special occasion?”

“No special occasion. I just thought I’d take advantage of Shirley’s cooking before she leaves for a few days.”

“I forgot about that. Dad and I are going to be eating a lot of fast food.”

“I’ve put enough casseroles in the freezer to last until Tuesday. You won’t starve. In fact, I doubt if your father will even miss me.”

Jenna wondered if Gary heard the wistfulness in Shirley’s voice, too.

Her brother was already pouring himself a glass of juice. “Are you still going to help me with that video project tonight?” he asked Jenna.

Picking that moment to walk into the kitchen, their father asked, “What video project?”

Gary’s goal in life was to become a movie director. Their dad disapproved of the idea and did everything he could to squelch it. But Gary had boundless enthusiasm when it came to using a secondhand camcorder he’d saved for and bought when he was ten.

“It’s for that extra class I’m taking this summer,” he said patiently.

“I thought you were taking a history course.”

“It is. I can do a paper or something more innovative on the history of Fawn Grove. I’m going to do a video. But I want to brainstorm with Jenna for the best ideas for scenes. It sure beats doing a research paper.”

Her father sat down at the head of the table.

“I can use this video when I apply to film school,” Gary added, as if testing the water again on the subject.

“You’re not applying to film school. We’ve discussed this.”

“No, we haven’t discussed it. You told me what you thought. You didn’t listen to what I thought.”

Though Jenna gave Gary a warning glance, he didn’t heed it. “So what time tonight, sis?”

“You have to trim the hedge,” her father reminded his son.

“What time do you get off work today?” Jenna asked gently. Her brother was working at the local grocery store for the summer.

“I’ll be off at five-thirty, but till I do the trimming, take a shower, get something to eat…”

“Why don’t you come over to the apartment around seven-thirty? If the air-conditioning still isn’t fixed, we’ll go for ice cream and talk there.”

“Sounds good to me.”

While Jenna and Gary had been working out their plans, Shirley had delivered plates of pancakes, bacon and scrambled eggs to the table. Untying her apron, she said to Jenna, “Just come into the office when you’re through and we’ll get started.”

“I’d like to have a word with my daughter first,” Charles said, eyeing Jenna.

She should have known she wouldn’t be able to escape without the third degree Blake had warned her about. She glanced at Shirley. “I’m sure it won’t take long.”

She wouldn’t let it take long. She wasn’t ready to tell her father that this baby belonged to Blake Winston. Although she’d seen the censure in her dad’s eyes last night at the idea she’d spent time with a man like Blake, she wasn’t going to give him any further information or food for more thought. This was her life and she’d make decisions on her own. In the meantime—

“Shirley, why don’t you sit down and join us for breakfast?” Jenna prompted.

The woman looked shocked. “Oh, I couldn’t do that.”

“Why not? Did you already eat breakfast?”

“Well, no. I just grabbed a banana before I came over here this morning, like I usually do.”

“You made this wonderful food and we’re certainly not going to eat it all. Come on, join us. Don’t you think she should, Dad?”

Gary gave her a what-are-you-up-to-now look.

Charles glanced at Shirley, then Jenna. “If you didn’t have breakfast, Shirley, you should eat something. As Jenna said, there’s plenty here.”

It wasn’t an enthusiastic invitation, but it wasn’t a dismissal of the idea, either. Shirley must have realized that, too, because she gave Charles her broadest smile. “Thank you for asking. I’d like to join all of you.”

After she pulled an extra dish from the cupboard and took silverware from the drawer, she sat around the corner from Charles, next to Gary, and loaded up her plate.

After breakfast, fortunately Jenna was able to evade her father’s questions about Blake. He’d just asked her what kind of business she’d had with Winston when he got a call from a member of his congregation that he had to take. After the call, he told Shirley and Jenna he had to go to the hospital. The look he gave his daughter said they’d return to their discussion later. By then, maybe she’d know what to tell him and be able to explain what had happened at the clinic.

Around eleven, after she and Shirley finished their to-do list, Jenna found herself at loose ends. Needing someone she could talk to and trust about her predicament, she drove out to the Rocky R, hoping Shannon would be free. During the summer, the psychologist lessened her client load and let her partner handle most of it so she could spend more time with her daughters, Janine and Amelia.

The Rocky R was about fifteen minutes outside of Fawn Grove. A wooden archway welcomed Jenna as she drove her car up the lane to the house. Marianne, Shannon’s partner, was working in the corral with a student.

Jenna parked in the gravel area near the two-story house and was relieved to see Shannon’s truck there, too. Her aunt Cora’s car was gone, though, and that could mean Shannon wouldn’t be home, either.

As Jenna ascended the porch steps, she could see that the front door was open. She rang the bell and called, “Anyone home?”

Shannon came to the door dressed in her usual jeans and a blue-and-yellow-plaid, short-sleeved shirt. She was all smiles when she saw Jenna. “Hi, there. I just came in from grooming the horses and washed up. I’m about ready to fix lunch. You want some?”

“Are the girls here?”

Holding open the wooden screen door, she explained, “They went into town with Cora to get groceries. They should be back any minute.”

“This isn’t just a friendly visit,” Jenna said as she stepped inside. “I need perspective on everything that’s happened, and I thought you could give it to me.”

“I’ll do my best. Let’s talk in the kitchen while I make salads.”

Shannon’s kitchen was bright, colorful and welcoming. “Has Rafe told you anything?” Jenna asked her friend.

“He can’t. Confidentiality between lawyer and client. I only know what you told me after your first meeting at the clinic about the baby not being B.J.’s. Rafe paced most of last evening but wouldn’t tell me why. Did that have something to do with you?”

“I…I was with Blake Winston yesterday against Rafe’s advice. Blake thought if we went off somewhere and talked without lawyers, it might make everything easier.”

Shannon gave Jenna her full attention. “Did it?”

She felt her cheeks grow warm. “I don’t know. He’s so— I don’t know how to explain it. He’s just so much a…man.”

Shannon seemed surprised at that and her lips twitched up. “What does that mean?”

As Jenna sank into one of the kitchen chairs at the table, she thought about it, then tried to put those thoughts into words. “He’s so confident but he doesn’t talk much about himself. He’s used to getting his own way and giving orders, but yet he seemed to know how to listen, too.”

“It sounds to me as if you learned a lot about him in one afternoon.”

“He learned a lot more about me. When I told Rafe that last night, he wasn’t happy. But I had to be honest with Blake.”

“Do you think he was honest with you?”

“I think everything he told me was true. From what I gathered, this child means a lot to him. He had his sperm frozen so one day he could hire a surrogate. Apparently he wanted his sperm to be fully potent—” Jenna stopped, feeling a bit embarrassed.

Shannon’s brows arched. “A man like Blake Winston could have any woman he wanted. I wonder why he planned to use a surrogate?”

“I got the feeling that a serious relationship isn’t on his agenda. But he’s not your typical confirmed bachelor if he wants to be a daddy. I think he’s a very complex man.”

After Shannon was quiet for a few moments, she said, “Blake Winston knows powerful people, not just actors and actresses, but politicians, too. From what I understand, he’s got it all—money, good looks…” She paused before she added, “Charm. A man like that could be very persuasive. Do you think he was handling you yesterday?”

“I don’t know. I was upset, that was for sure. Yet I didn’t feel he was charming me. I mean, I felt he was as thrown off balance by all of this as I’ve been. When we were out on his boat—”

“Out on his boat?” Shannon cut in.

“He suggested it. He said it was the best place to relax. And it was. It was so peaceful out there, Shannon. Even though I’d never been on a boat, when he was at the helm, I trusted him.”

“You like the man.”

When she thought about it, she wasn’t sure how to explain what she felt around him. “I don’t know him yet.” Even though Shannon was a good friend, she didn’t feel comfortable telling her about being almost kissed, the feelings that had made her tingle all over. They didn’t seem any more right today than they had yesterday. She already knew what Shannon would tell her—that B.J. was dead and she had to go on. But up until two days ago, she’d intended to keep B.J.’s memory alive forever by having his child.

“Did he make any offers?”

“I think he might agree to joint custody. But I can’t imagine not holding my baby every day, not caring for it every moment.”

“Joint custody doesn’t have to be half a week at his house, half a week at yours. Courts are willing to be flexible if the two of you can be flexible. You have to think about the trauma going to court over this would cause—not only the disruption in your life, but in your child’s life. Custody battles usually turn nasty because both sides want the advantage. Rafe can tell you that better than anyone.”

“Do you think I should agree to joint custody?”

“What I think doesn’t matter, Jenna. You have to solve this in your heart and come up with what you can live with.”

A beep sounded from Jenna’s purse and she fished inside for her cell phone. When she answered it, she expected to hear her father’s voice…or Gary’s. Instead she heard “Jenna? It’s Blake.”

“Oh. Hi.”

“Am I catching you at a bad time?”

She glanced at Shannon. “No. I was just having lunch with…a friend.”

“I won’t keep you. How would you like to come to my house for dinner tonight?”

Dinner with Blake? If she agreed, what tactic would he use tonight to convince her that joint custody was the solution to their dilemma?