Читать книгу The Best Man's Baby - Karen Booth, Karen Booth - Страница 10
ОглавлениеLogan had been a royal jerk last night—selfishly worrying how he’d survive the next six months of uncertainty, informing Julia that he expected her to marry him. That was not happening. She could do this all on her own. She didn’t need help from Logan.
Although she didn’t mind the view.
“Oh. Hey. Good morning.” He flashed a sheepish smile, standing in the doorway of his room, nothing more than a towel wrapped around his waist, beads of water dotting his shoulder. “I was just getting the paper.” Bending over to pick it up, he showed off his perfectly defined back.
Julia stood stuck. His velvety voice delivered a too-sexy memory of their last morning in this hotel—Logan’s long, warm naked body pressed against her back in the wee hours, his giving lips on her neck as he slid his hand between her knees, lifted her leg and rocked her world with the most memorable wake-up call, well, ever.
“Jules? You okay?”
“Morning,” she sputtered, pushing a room service cart out of her room and into the hall. “I ordered bacon with breakfast, but the smell was making me queasy. If you want the leftovers.” Sexy, Jules. Real sexy.
He looked both ways, flipped the latch on his door and crossed the hall. He raised the stainless cloche from the plate, grabbing some bacon. “Just two. The camera adds ten pounds.”
“You’re fine.” She stole a glimpse of his stomach, just as hard and muscled as ever. He might not be paid to be an elite athlete anymore, but he maintained his body like one. And to think she’d reaped the benefits—those strapping arms wrapped around her, keeping her close, making her feel for two whole days that she belonged nowhere else. The price of admission had been far more than she’d been willing to pay—every shred of her heart. A big chunk of her pride, too.
“Ready in fifteen?” She braced herself against her door. Being around nearly-naked Logan was making it impossible to stand up straight.
“Definitely. I called down to the valet. We can go out the side entrance. They’ll have the car waiting for us.”
“You don’t think the press will be tipped off by the eighty-thousand-dollar gleaming black sports car you just had to rent?”
He shrugged. “I’m not about to drive anything less. You’ll have to suffer through it, babe.”
Babe. As if.
Julia retreated to her room and tried not to obsess over her makeup or hair, but it was hard not to, knowing she’d be spending her day with Logan. He deserved to be tortured by what he’d so solidly rejected. It would likely be her only measure of revenge. She dressed in a swishy navy blue skirt that showed off her legs, black ballet flats and a white sleeveless top with a cut that left her expanding bustline on full display. Boobs. At least she was getting something out of this whole single-and-pregnant thing, other than a baby, of course.
She met Logan in the hall, and he just had to be stunning. So effortlessly hot in jeans and a white button-down, sleeves rolled up just far enough to again mesmerize her with his inexplicably alluring forearms. He led her out through the side exit and to his rental car. His plan to remain incognito was working perfectly until he peeled out of the parking lot.
“Why did you do that?” Her vision darted back to the hotel entrance. Sure enough, reporters were racing to their cars. “They’re following us now.” She shook her head. He always had to have his manly moment.
“Don’t worry. I’ll lose them.”
He tried to shake the media as he had the day before, but they got stuck at a red light and he was left to lead a dysfunctional caravan to the florist, with his fancy car front and center. They found their destination a few minutes later, and Julia dashed for the door while Logan took his chance to reprimand the reporters yet again and tell them to stay outside.
Julia swept her hair from her face as a red-haired woman came out of the back with an enormous bucket of flowers blocking her view. “Can I help you?” she asked in a lovely singsong British accent. She plopped her armful onto the checkout counter. “Blimey. You’re...her.”
Her. Yep. Julia smiled warmly. It was the only way to put people at ease and get them off the subject of who she was. “Hi. You’re doing the flowers for my sister Tracy’s wedding on Saturday. She asked me to come by and look over everything. She’s more than a little picky and I want everything to be perfect for her.”
The woman nodded. “Yes. I’m Bryony. And I remember your sister. Very well. Come with me.”
The bell on the door jingled as Logan walked inside. With a nod, Julia motioned for him to follow her, and he trailed behind her into a back room. While Bryony pulled buckets of blooms from a cooler, Logan assumed what Julia called his jock-in-command stance—feet nearly shoulder-width apart, hands clasped behind his back, shoulders straight, chest out proud. This was his way of taking in the world. She’d first noticed him doing it their junior year of high school, eyeing him when they played softball in gym class. What a joke that had been—like sending in an Olympic broad jumper to play hopscotch. No one had ever beaned a softball as hard as Logan.
He’d been so far out of her league in school that it took her nearly a year to get up the guts to talk to him, and only after he accidentally showed up at a party at her parents’ beach house. Imagine the horror when it dawned on her during that first conversation, as she drank in the mesmerizing beauty of his eyes up close, that he didn’t actually know her name. She must have done something right, though...he was her boyfriend a week later.
And when it came to part a year after that, as they both went off to college at far-flung schools, she’d taken the initiative and broken up with him. It had been a bit of a preemptive strike and her attempt to be mature about something. She was terrified to leave home, but she was even more scared of how badly it would hurt when Logan called her from UCLA and said he’d met another girl. Or more likely, another fifty girls. It wouldn’t have taken long. In the end, Logan became the guy in her past she couldn’t have. That was all there was to it. Circumstances, fate or other women—there was always something standing between them.
Logan waited dutifully next to her while Julia checked the array of flowers set aside for her sister. Her mother’s penchant for gardening had left Julia more knowledgeable than the average person. She checked each selection off the list her sister had given her. Hydrangea, snapdragons and roses in white. Pink was for tulips, more roses and... Oh no.
“These aren’t peonies,” Julia said.
“Our supplier was out,” Bryony answered. “We had to substitute ranunculus.”
Julia shook her head. “No. No. No. Peonies are Tracy’s favorite flower. She’ll pitch a royal fit if she doesn’t have them.”
Bryony shrugged. “I’m sorry. That’s the best we could do. They aren’t that dissimilar.”
“Logan, don’t you think Tracy’s going to be mad about ranunculus?” Julia asked.
“I wouldn’t know a ranunculus if it walked up to me and introduced itself.” He flashed a wide and clever smile.
The florist tittered like a schoolgirl at Logan’s comment. “I’m sorry, but I can’t make pink peonies magically appear this time of year. I told your sister there might be a problem getting them.”
“I have to fix this.” Filled with dread, Julia pulled her phone out of her purse and dialed her assistant, Liz. If Tracy didn’t have the right flowers, not only would she freak out, by the transitive property of sisterly blame, it’d be Julia’s fault.
“Julia. Is everything okay?” Liz answered.
“Hey. I need you to do something for me. Can you call your flower guy and have four dozen stems of pale pink peonies overnighted to the florist in Wilmington? We need a very pale pink. Not rosy. Not vibrant. Does that make sense?”
“Yes. Of course. I’m on it.”
“I’ll text you the address. And make sure he knows it’s for my sister. I need this to go off without a hitch.”
“Got it. Anything else?”
Julia felt as if it was now okay to exhale. “That’s it for now.”
“Is everything else going okay? The press is really hammering you on this Derek thing, aren’t they? And I saw you’re hanging out with Logan. How’s that going?”
Liz had worked for Julia for years. She might’ve heard her complain and wax poetic about Logan a few dozen times. Or a few hundred. “Oh, um, it’s been fine.” She couldn’t say more, not with Logan in such close proximity.
“You know, if you wanted the press to go away, you could tell them that you’re with Logan,” Liz said. “They’ll run off and speculate about it for at least a day or two. Or they’ll turn it into more of a spectacle. Hard to know, but my gut is they’ll take pictures, write their stories and hound Derek with questions about being heartbroken.”
Julia watched Logan as he chatted up Bryony, who was blushing like crazy. If any man knew how to make a woman feel good about herself, it was Logan. His presence alone—just breathing the same air he did—made a girl feel special. Precisely why it hurt so much when he took it away. “Well, that’s one idea. I’ll think about it. Thanks. You’re the best.”
Julia hung up and took the florist’s business card, texting the address to Liz. “The peonies will be here tomorrow morning. Everything else looks great. Thanks for your help.”
She turned to Logan. He had the funniest look on his face—both bewildered and amused. She loved that expression, although if she were honest, she loved everything about his face—full lips shaping his effortless smile, square chin with a tiny scar obscured by scruff, and eyes so warm and sincere it was hard to imagine him ever doing something hurtful.
“Your sister is really lucky she didn’t put me in charge of this,” he said. “I mean really lucky. Imagine how horrified she’d be if she ended up with ranun...you know. Those flowers.”
Julia granted him a quiet laugh. “Ranunculus. And you know how much I love my sister. I’m just trying to make the mess I made a little better. Now let’s go deal with the cake.”
The throng of reporters outside had grown. Either Julia was losing her patience or they were getting pushier. Logan made sure she got into the car safely, making her truly thankful to have him there. On the way to the bakery, she stole a glimpse of his handsome profile, allowing herself to think about what would’ve happened last night if he’d proposed for real, because he loved her. If he’d never called it off. If the baby was his. They could hold hands, they could stay up late talking for hours, they could make plans. Perhaps that was why she was so dead-set on making everything perfect for her sister. If she couldn’t have the fairy tale, at least her sister could.
Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the bakery and again had to sprint for the door as reporters shouted at them. They seemed to be at the end of their rope. There was much speculation about the reasons why Julia was running around town with Logan Brandt and not Derek. Not good.
Inside, one of the bakers led them to the work space where all three cakes were being decorated—one for the rehearsal dinner, the groom’s cake and of course, the grand, three-tiered wedding cake. Julia took pictures with her phone and sent them to her sister. She got a quick response that, to Julia’s great relief, everything except one of the shades of pink frosting passed muster. After straightening that out, and double-checking the delivery times and addresses, she crossed the bakery visit off the list.
She and Logan stood at the bakery window. The reporters were waiting, clogging the sidewalk out front. Logan was finishing a cookie he’d talked out of the girl working behind the counter.
“What happened to ‘the camera adds ten pounds’?” Julia asked as he wiped crumbs from the corner of his mouth.
“I will always relax the rules for a chocolate chip cookie. It’s my one weakness.” He cleared his throat. “Well, that, and my desire to pop one of these reporters in the mouth.”
“I don’t even want to go out there.” Julia hitched her purse up onto her shoulder.
He rolled his neck to the side as if working out a kink. “I don’t know if I can take an entire weekend of this. I’m tempted to just tell them I’m your boyfriend to get them to go away.”
Exactly what Liz suggested. “It might work,” Julia muttered. Of course then she’d have to live with the story. And the myriad ways in which her sister would pitch a conniption. “I’d say we could go out through the alley, but we’re still going to have to walk right past them to get to the car.”
He took her hand. “It’ll be okay. I won’t let anything bad happen.” He opened the door and out they went, back into the belly of the beast.
* * *
They narrowly escaped the reporters outside the bakery unscathed. One of them, a brutish man with a camera lens so long that Logan wondered whether he was compensating for some shortcoming, had become particularly curt with his questions. It was clear he just wanted an answer. And Logan was inclined to agree, only because he himself had reached the boiling point.
Now they were being followed in the car again. “Maybe it’s better if you just say something, Jules. The only thing you seem to be accomplishing is frustrating them.”
“I wouldn’t even know how to say it. You know me. Give me a script and I can deal with it. In front of cameras, with unfriendly faces barking at me, I get panicky. The next thing you know I’m tripping over my words and accidentally telling the press I’m pregnant. And I’ll have to spill the beans then. I’m a terrible liar.”
“That’s probably an argument for just telling your parents about the baby before you mess up and the secret comes out.”
“No way. As long as you keep your end of the bargain and keep your mouth shut, it’ll be fine.”
“Personally, I don’t think it’s a risk worth taking. Just tell them. Then you can relax and enjoy the wedding.”
Julia directed a piercing glare at him. “That’s the most harebrained thing you’ve ever said. My plan is not only the best plan, it’s the only plan. My baby. My plan.”
Her plan. Jules was doing what she always did—putting her head down, forging ahead and ignoring what everyone else said. Like a beautiful steamroller. She was far better at handing out advice than taking it, which would make it impossible to change her mind. “And what exactly is the rest of your plan? What are you going to say to your parents about the baby’s father?”
“I’m going to have to tell them the truth. You might be the dad. And you might not.”
Hearing her say that didn’t sting any less today than it had last night. “Have you taken the time to think about how they’re going to react? Because there could be a lot of fallout, and I’m sorry, but most of that is going to fall on me.”
“You have to make everything about you, don’t you?”
“No. I don’t. I’m just thinking this through to its logical conclusion. Do you remember what your dad asked me the night I took you to senior prom?”
Her eyes narrowed. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Just answer the question. Do you remember what he said?”
She reached into her bag, pulled out a lip balm and rolled it across her lips. Logan was thankful he was driving and only caught a glimpse of what she was doing. He had a soft spot for her mouth, especially for the things it could do to him.
“My dad asked you what your intentions were with his daughter. Doesn’t every dad ask that?”
“Maybe in old movies, they do. My point is that your dad is an old-fashioned guy. And that’s part of what I love about him. He’s going to want to know if I’m accepting my responsibility. And I told you I’m willing to do that.”
“Logan. You dumped me three months ago.” She turned sideways in her seat and confronted him. “Dumped me.”
He didn’t want to feel remorseful about ending things with Julia, but he was starting to. Even though he was also certain that they wouldn’t have made it through the summer. Julia would’ve gotten flighty. She would’ve started doing the things that made him question whether she wanted to be with him, and he never handled that well. “But that was before the baby.”
“Precisely the reason this won’t work. A baby is not a reason to be together. And I’m not going to be with some man who didn’t want me three months ago, just because he’s worried about what my dad might think.”
“A child deserves two parents.” It bothered him to hear his voice crack like that. A few words and the pain of losing his dad returned to the center of his chest, just as it had the night before. After all these years, it hadn’t gotten easier; there were merely longer stretches of time when he could focus on other things. It was hard enough to think about how difficult it’d been on his mom to shoulder the responsibility of three boys, a mortgage and law school. It was even more difficult to recall the promise he’d made at the age of twelve, to his father, his hero, as he slipped away. Don’t worry. I’ll be the man of the house. I’ll take care of Mom and my brothers. “I have to accept my responsibility. I owe you that much, and I won’t allow your dad to think anything less.”
Logan pulled up to the curb out in front of the Keyses’ house. The reporters were parking their vans and cars. They’d be descending on them in no time. “We have to make a run for it, Jules. Now.”
She gathered her things. Logan hopped out of the car and hurried around to Julia’s side. They squeezed past the reporters, walking upstream against a rush of people coming at them. The obnoxious man with the big camera elbowed his way next to Julia, butting into her with his shoulder. The woman behind him pushed ahead. Too many people. On a narrow sidewalk flanked by parked cars and azalea bushes.
Julia stumbled. Her fingers splayed to brace her fall. Her purse flew out of her hand. Muscle memory took over. Logan lunged like an outfielder going for the ball. He curled his arm around Julia, pulling her into him. Everyone came to an abrupt stop.
“Are you okay?” he gasped. Adrenaline surged through his veins. That was too close. She could’ve been hurt. The baby could’ve been hurt.
She shook like a leaf, telling him exactly how rattled she was. “I’m okay.”
“Don’t move.” He plucked her purse from the sidewalk and handed it to her. Turning back, he positioned himself directly between Julia and the reporters. He spread his arms wide. If they were going to come another step closer to her, they’d have to go through him. He set his sights on the reckless cameraman. “If you come within fifty feet of her again, you’re going to be a very unhappy guy.” More like you’re going to be in traction.
The man puffed out his chest. “Are you threatening me? The sidewalk is a public right-of-way. We have the right to ask questions.”
If only there weren’t so many cameras trained on him. Two minutes and this guy would know not to get in Julia’s face again. Reluctantly, Logan lowered his arms. He hated to do it, but he had to back down or this would escalate. He couldn’t manage to unclench his balled fists, though. “Why don’t you show some decorum? We’re here for a wedding.”
“Yesterday she was linked with one of the biggest stars in Hollywood, and now she’s at her sister’s wedding with her old boyfriend, one of the most successful athletes of the last decade. You can’t blame us for wanting to know what’s going on.”
“Julia, just tell us if you dumped Derek for Logan and we’ll leave you alone,” one reporter shouted.
“Yeah. Just tell us,” another voice chimed in. “Are you cheating on Derek? Is that why he’s not with you for your sister’s wedding?”
Oh hell no. Cheating? With him? Steam was about to pour out of Logan’s ears. He turned back to Julia. The color had been sapped from her face. She looked so defenseless, not at all the self-assured woman he knew. All he could think about was the other helpless person in the middle of this—the baby. God, he’d been an ass last night. Julia was stuck at the center of two crises—Derek and the pregnancy—and he’d let his ego get in the way. The question of paternity was painful for him, but she had to live with much more. He did an abrupt about-face. “Julia and I are together. We’re a couple. There’s nothing with Derek.”
For a second, everyone shut up. Then came a single question. “Is it serious?”
He had to act. And he had to say yes. What kind of man says he isn’t serious about the woman he got pregnant? Once the baby news got out, that would be the media’s logical assumption. “Yes. It’s serious. Now leave us alone, please. Her sister is getting married and the family would like some peace.”
“Give us a kiss for the cameras first,” one of the reporters said. “So we know it’s real.”
“Don’t push it,” left Logan’s lips before he realized what he was saying. He couldn’t help it. Telling the press no was his gut instinct. And a kiss? As if his feelings weren’t confused enough. Not that he didn’t want to kiss her. He’d spent a good deal of time in her parents’ living room yesterday wishing he could do exactly that. Before things got complicated. Again.
The reporters complained and grumbled. Just a kiss and we’re out of here.
He was about to tell them to forget it when delicate fingers slipped into his hand. Julia. He turned. A sweet smile crossed her face. The color had returned to her cheeks. Although by the way she was now gripping his hand, he was fairly certain the flush was anger, not acquiescence.
“If you guys promise to let my sister get married in peace, you can have your kiss. But you have to promise.” The words were for the reporters, but she directed them at Logan. Her lips—the lips he’d fixated on so many times, were waiting right there for him. Pouty and plump.
We promise.
He didn’t risk waiting another second, threading his arm around her waist. He witnessed the graceful closing of her eyes and took that as his cue to do the same, to shut out the press and tune out everything around them. When it was Julia and him, all alone, things could be right. It was the rest of the world that made things complicated. Her lips sweetly brushed his—a hint of warmth and sugar, enough to make the edges of his resolve melt and trickle away.
Pressing against her, he felt the newness between them. There was no visible baby bump yet, but there was undoubtedly something new there—a slight, firm protrusion of her belly. That hadn’t been there at the beginning of the summer. New life. Was the baby his? Could it bring Julia back to him? Could it bring him back to Julia? Could he really get past that feeling that things would never be right between them?
Just like that, Julia ended the kiss and stepped away, turning toward the house. There was no sentiment, no moment of recognition for what had happened between them.
Logan cleared his throat, trying to conceal how disoriented he was. He was as thrown for a loop by her choice of tactics with the media as he was by his own. Julia, and that kiss, had turned his thinking upside down. “There you go, guys. I expect you to hold up your end of the deal.” He turned to Julia and grasped her elbow to usher her ahead, but she stood frozen on the sidewalk. He caught the surprise on her face as she stared ahead at her parents’ front porch. He followed her line of sight. The whole family was standing there—Mr. and Mrs. Keys, Tracy and Carter. Judging by their expressions, they’d heard—and seen—it all.
There were car doors closing and engines starting behind him. Probably the vultures on their way to the closest Wi-Fi hotspot to break the news. Or in reality, his little white lie.
“Tell me you didn’t just start what I think you did,” Julia muttered under her breath, smiling and waving at her parents.
Logan adopted the same phony grin and began walking up the sidewalk, squeezing Julia’s hand.
“Tell me you didn’t just do what I think you did. A kiss?”
“What about you? It’s serious?”
His pulse was thumping, but he was sure he’d done the right thing. Mostly sure, at least. “I didn’t have a choice,” he mumbled. “Somebody was going to get hurt. You were going to get hurt. I had to make them go away. And you’re worried about ruining your sister’s wedding. That was going to ruin your sister’s wedding.”
