Читать книгу Her Fill-In Fiancé - Stacy Connelly, Stacy Connelly - Страница 9

Why would you do this?

Jake’s hands tightened on the back porch railing as Sophia’s words echoed through his thoughts. He wondered what her reaction would have been if he’d told her the truth.

He missed her. He missed her laughter, her smile, and that he’d considered admitting that, even for a split second, told Jake he was already in over his head.

He’d made the biggest mistake an investigator could—he’d gotten too close to the subject. He knew better than to let emotions rule his actions. Logic and patience and detached observation had made him a good private investigator, but for the second job in a row, he’d rushed in without thinking. His body was still healing from the painful lessons he’d learned in Mexico while the damage done in St. Louis … those wounds were harder to define, but they’d left him reeling. Especially since he still didn’t know how Sophia had sneaked past his defenses.

Was it the evening they’d ended up missing their dinner reservation when she saw a small school carnival and wanted to stop? How she’d egged him on as he spent over twenty bucks popping balloons to win her a palm-sized stuffed unicorn? Was it the Cardinals game they went to and the thirty-minute rain delay they spent huddled beneath a shared umbrella, talking and laughing? Normal, everyday activities that made life—made him—feel normal again …

Or had it happened so much sooner than that? The night they first met, when he’d wrestled her bag away from a purse snatcher. He’d ended up with some scrapes on his hand, minor cuts Sophia had insisted on bandaging. The scratches had long since healed, but the soft brush of her skin against his lingered …

Jake let go of the railing and shoved his hands into his back pockets. It didn’t really matter how or when it had happened. Only that he couldn’t let Sophia crawl any deeper into his heart.

When Sophia told him she was pregnant with Todd Dunworthy’s child, Jake had felt like the cruel hand of fate was trying to shove him down a rocky, heaving path, but it was a road he refused to go down again. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

Even as he’d listened to Sophia talk about the father of her child—a nameless, faceless nonentity—unwanted memories of Mollie and Josh had crept in. Regret and failure clenched at his gut. It was enough to make Jake feel like less than nothing. Which was exactly what he’d ended up being to Josh despite his best attempts.

The back door opened behind him, and Sam said, “Hey, we’ve got dessert ready if Drew and Nick didn’t already eat it all.”

He wasn’t in the mood to eat or even to join the Pirelli family without Sophia at the table. He was glad when Sam added, “And my mom wanted me to tell you your room’s ready if you want to bring your stuff in from the car.”

The elder Pirellis had made the offer as soon as he arrived, but he’d expected to leave once Sophia showed up. Now, though, he forced himself to accept that he was going to stay. He owed this to Sophia.

If his presence made it easier for her to tell her parents about the baby, then he could stay a day or two. Just to make sure everything was all right and that Sophia was once again safely ensconced in the heart of her family.

After several sleepless nights leading up to her trip home, not to mention tossing and turning in unfamiliar hotel beds while on the road, Sophia expected to curl up into her old twin bed and fall asleep the second her head hit the floral-patterned pillow.

Instead, she found herself staring at the ceiling. Even her recent, slightly silly habit of singing lullabies beneath her breath to her unborn baby hadn’t relaxed her. The excitement of the day had simply caught up with her; little wonder she couldn’t sleep.

And Jake Cameron lying in bed down the hall has nothing to do with it, her conscience mocked.

“Oh, hush,” she muttered to the voice that hadn’t stopped harping at her all evening. Tossing aside the covers, she decided a glass of warm milk would be just the thing to quiet the annoying voice and send her right to sleep.

She’d never cared much for milk, but Theresa had frequently pressed a cold glass or warm mug into her hand. “Milk,” her cousin quipped, “it does a baby good.”

And Sophia was willing to do whatever it took to keep her baby healthy and happy.

A nightlight in the hall lit the way to the kitchen. She could have made it in total darkness, and Sophia had to admit the familiarity gave her a sense of comfort she hadn’t felt in years. But the feeling disappeared as she hurried by the closed guest room door.

She didn’t need to think about Jake sprawled out across a queen bed that was likely too short for his long, lean frame …

Banishing the image from her mind, she rushed toward the kitchen, making a beeline for the fridge. Blinking against the light spilling out as she opened the door, she reached for the half-gallon container.

“Can’t sleep?”

Sophia gasped at the unexpected sound of a deep voice behind her. She spun around and for the first time noticed a dark shadow at the table. He still wore the jeans and T-shirt from earlier, and Sophia wondered how long he’d been sitting there. Her heart picked up its pace as Jake stood and crossed the small kitchen to stand in front of her. The single bulb that had seemed bright before now shone like a spotlight, emphasizing his tousled dark-blond hair, the rough stubble grazing his jaw, and she couldn’t look away.

With the heat coming off Jake’s body and the refrigerated air at her back, Sophia half expected a spontaneous tornado to sweep through the kitchen—a storm certainly seemed to be brewing inside her.

“Sophia.” His voice held a hint of warning, and her gaze instantly rose to meet his. The desire she saw there only amplified the longing spinning through her in ever tightening circles, spiraling down into a pinpoint focus. She wanted him to kiss her. To let the heat and urgency of his mouth against hers wipe away the past weeks. To turn back time to those few, short days when Jake Cameron was a man she could trust, a man she could count on …

Instead of a man who lied.

Realization hitting with an embarrassment that Jake could so easily turn her on even though he had lied, Sophia spun back toward the fridge.

“Uh, no. I couldn’t sleep.” She busied herself with taking out the milk, wishing she could press the cold container against her heated face. “I thought some warm milk might help. I can fix you some if you’d like.”

“I don’t think warm milk will do the trick.”

As the refrigerator door swung shut, the kitchen was once again wrapped in semi-darkness. Just as well, since Sophia feared seeing more in Jake’s expression than she wanted to know. She found a small saucepan right where it had always been and set it on the stove. “You know, just because we’re pretending to be dating doesn’t mean you have to stay. You could say something came up with work.”

“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I missed your parents’ anniversary party?”

“How did you—never mind. It’s your job to know these things.”

Jake stepped closer, making it almost impossible for Sophia to keep her focus on the milk swirling in the small pan. “This is not part of my job.”

You’re not hoping that he’ll, I don’t know, have some crazy explanation and that you guys can pick up where you left off—

Maybe Theresa was right not to pass on the message that Jake had called, Sophia thought, suddenly worried she might end up doing exactly what her cousin feared. That she’d be willing to believe anything Jake said as long as it meant picking up where they left off. Did he know, she wondered in pained embarrassment, how close she’d been to falling into bed with him? That if he’d pressed just a little, she would have gladly given in? And did he think even now it might be that easy again? That she would be that easy … “What about the mugger?”

“What?”

“The would-be purse snatcher and your timely rescue. Was that part of the job? Did you hire him the same way someone hired you?”

“No! No, I did not hire that guy!” He swore beneath his breath. “I would never do anything to purposely hurt you or anyone.”

He’d purposely lied, purposely fooled her into coming far too close to falling for him, and if Jake didn’t know how much that had hurt, Sophia wasn’t about to tell him. Her thoughts were still spinning, and her mind didn’t know how to reconcile the man she thought she knew in St. Louis with the man she didn’t know at all standing in her mother’s kitchen. Unfortunately, judging by the awareness buzzing along her skin like an electrical current, her body didn’t care. Whenever, wherever, whoever Jake Cameron was, she wanted him.

Crossing her arms over her stomach, she pointed out, “I wasn’t hurt.”

“You were scared,” Jake said. “I wouldn’t have put you through that,” he vowed, his handsome face showing only sincerity and honesty.

She longed to believe him, to trust in every word he said. Which only proved she was an even bigger fool than Jake thought. “So it was only a coincidence then?” she mocked. “You showing up right when I most needed a hero?”

After the way Todd treated her—lying, cheating, turning his back when she needed him most—Sophia had longed to believe nice guys still existed in the world. And Jake had so perfectly fit the bill.

From the moment they met, she’d seen something in Jake. Something in the golden flecks in his eyes, the faint wrinkles at the corners, the crooked smile that showed a flash of straight, white teeth. Or maybe it had been the hint of his aftershave, a woodsy scent that reminded her of home—of comfort and safety—and she’d been so sure Jake Cameron was a man she could trust.

“I’m no hero, but I’m not a total jerk, either. It may not make any difference, but I care about you. If you don’t believe anything else, I need you to believe that.”

If he was acting, Jake deserved an Oscar, but Sophia was no longer willing to take anything at face value. “How am I supposed to believe anything you say after the lies you told?”

“I told you the truth before I left.”

Another thing that left her as confused and uncertain as everything that had gone on before … “Why did you tell me the truth? Why not just say you had to go out of town and leave it at that? It wouldn’t be the first time a guy stopped calling.”

“I didn’t want to lie to you.”

Tossing up her hands in exasperation, Sophia had to battle to keep from yelling, well aware of her parents sleeping down the hall. “You’d been lying to me all along!”

“That was the job. Once it was over and I had the information I needed, it was personal.” His gaze skimmed over her—from the top of her tousled head to the too-thin pink T-shirt and drawstring pajama bottoms she wore to her bare feet—striking sparks that reminded Sophia of just how personal things had almost been. “And I didn’t want to lie.”

His words wove a twisted kind of guy logic no woman could possibly comprehend, and Sophia didn’t even try to figure it out; she was far too busy trying to understand why an explanation that made no sense could still start to melt the defenses around her heart.

Sophia woke the next morning to the familiar sound of her cell phone. Eyes still closed, she reached toward the bedside table where she normally plugged the phone into its charger overnight. Her hand waved in thin air—no phone, no nightstand. Her eyes flew open and she remembered. Home, her parents, her brothers … Jake.

She groaned, tempted to pull the covers over her head and pretend the whole world away. But as Theresa’s ringtone continued to play, Sophia knew she might as well face the music. Rolling over to the nightstand on the opposite side of the bed, she pulled the phone from her purse and brought it back beneath the covers with her.

She barely managed a muffled hello before Theresa said, “You were supposed to call.”

“I know, Theresa, and I’m sorry. I am. It’s just that I got home and …”

Was Jake Cameron really here, in her childhood home, pretending to be her boyfriend? It seemed like so unreal that Sophia was afraid to say the words out loud in case it all turned out to be a dream. And, she admitted, even more afraid it wasn’t a dream …

“Let me guess,” her cousin filled in when Sophia trailed off in silence, “does Jake Cameron have anything to do with leaving you speechless?”

“How did—”

“Do you honestly think after the way my mother flaunted the fact that she’d met Jake before your parents that your mother wouldn’t call her to say he’s staying with them? With you? That your boyfriend is staying with you? Sophia—”

Struggling to push aside the blankets with one hand, she said, “I can explain, Theresa.” And she could … only the explanation that still sounded crazy in her own head would likely sound even more so to her cousin. “He arrived before I did, and of course, my parents welcomed him with open arms. They had no reason not to, thanks to me,” she tacked on quickly before Theresa could. “Jake played along because he didn’t want to say anything before I had a chance to talk to them.”

“So how did they take it?” her cousin asked, her voice filled with sympathy.

Sophia bit her lip before admitting, “We’re, um, kind of postponing that part of the truth until after the party.”

Anticipating her cousin’s reaction, Sophia held the phone well away from her ear. Even so, she heard Theresa’s response loud and clear. “What do you mean postponing? And who is we?”

“You don’t understand, Theresa. For the first time in years, my family is looking at me without a boatload of concern and worry in their eyes. Like they’re seeing me as Sophia instead of as their little Fifi.”

Theresa’s mispronunciation of Sophia when they were both toddlers had been the start of the nickname that had followed Sophia well into her teens. She’d convinced most of her family, Sam excluded, to call her by her given name, but she couldn’t help feeling she’d done little to change how they thought of her.

“The party’s next weekend,” she added, “and I’ll come clean then. What’s the harm in waiting?”

Theresa’s silence rang with disapproval. “What’s the harm?” she asked finally. “I’d say Jake Cameron is.”

After reassuring Theresa that she would not be foolish enough to fall for Jake’s lies a second time—and making herself the same promise—Sophia slipped out of bed and pulled on the robe Theresa had given her last Christmas. Sophia could hardly miss the irony of the words scrolling across the comfortable flannel.

You’ve gotta kiss a lot of frogs …

She couldn’t say two was a lot, but it was two too many as far as she was concerned.

Cracking open the bedroom door, she listened to the silence for several seconds before rushing into the bathroom across the hall. For a woman who’d only moments ago sworn Jake Cameron was totally harmless, why was her pulse pounding like she’d made a narrow escape?

“I’m just not ready to face him yet this morning,” she murmured as she pulled her toothbrush from her small makeup bag on the vanity. Morning sickness threatened, and catching sight of her bleary eyes and sleep-rumpled hair, she groaned. “Definitely not ready.”

Following a long, reviving shower, Sophia wrapped a towel turban-style around her wet hair, tightened the belt on her robe and prepared to dash back to her bedroom. It seemed silly now, but one of her big dreams in leaving home had been to finally have a bathroom of her own—no brothers or roommates to share with. Yet like so many of her goals, Sophia had failed to meet that one, too.

Sophia took a deep breath and opened the door. Soon, she thought. Soon she’d be back in Chicago, looking for an entire apartment for her and her baby. She had a new job lined up, too, working with a friend who was about to start her own catering company. She would still be working in the service industry, waiting hand and foot on the rich and impossible, but it was a good job. Plus, along with handling the bookkeeping, Christine’s mother had agreed to babysit for Sophia. And while a catering service might have not be Sophia’s dream, it was Christine’s, and helping her friend achieve that dream would be good enough. She’d have her apartment, she’d have her job, and she’d have her little one.

“Nice robe.” The voice at her back froze Sophia in her tracks when really she should have started running down the hall. “And I thought the pig apron was bad.”

She heard the smile in Jake’s voice, but she refused to turn and face him. Still, she could feel him step closer, could sense the head-to-toe path his golden gaze traveled along her body. Despite the hot shower only moments earlier, goose bumps rose on her arms, and she fought against a shiver tracing fingers down her spine. “I—I like this robe.” Glancing down at the pink material emblazoned with a crown-wearing amphibian, she added, “I think it’s appropriate.”

“Kissed a lot of frogs lately, princess?”

At his faint mockery, Sophia turned to face Jake. His hair was still damp from his own shower, and she caught a hint of the soap her mother had been buying for years, a clean, simple scent that smelled so much more intriguing on him. He’d shaved away the shadow of beard from last night, and she had the crazy thought that she should have let him kiss her, should have had the chance to feel the rasp of stubble against her skin …

“It’s a reminder,” she insisted, tightening her grip on the robe’s neckline as if that might help keep her heated thoughts under wraps, “not to kiss any more.”

“Given up finding Prince Charming?”

“Given up on believing in him,” she muttered.

“Sophia—”

Whatever Jake might have said was lost as her mother’s familiar call rang out from the kitchen. “Sophia, sweetie, breakfast is almost ready!”

Jake glanced over his shoulder with an almost bemused smile. “Breakfast,” he echoed.

“I heard. Blueberry waffles with real maple syrup.”

“Is that what your mother usually makes?”

“Nope. Just my favorite.” And Sophia had little doubt it was what her mother had made for her first morning back.

Jake seemed to realize that, too. “You’ve got a great family.”

“I know.” She loved them all and knew they loved her—even Nick, who’d be the last to admit it. They loved her despite all her mistakes, but Sophia wanted more than that. She wanted to be the daughter, sister, mother her family could be proud of. She wanted to erase the no matter what that always seemed to hang over her family’s I love yous.

Jake stepped closer, regaining her complete attention, as he brushed her damp bangs off her forehead. “When you tell them about the baby, they’re going to support you.”

Another case of loving her and worse, loving her child, despite her mistakes. “I know they will,” she whispered, “no matter what.”

“Sophia.” Sympathy and understanding shone in his golden gaze, the same combination that had so easily slipped through her defenses. What was it about Jake that made her feel like she could tell him anything? Even now that she knew better, why did she still want to open her heart and share her dreams with him? Dreams she’d never told her family, too afraid she’d see nothing but the mistakes of the past and doubts written in their eyes …

“Your family will be right here to help take care of the baby.”

Right here in Clearville … The idea of staying in her hometown was so far from the plan Sophia had for herself and her child, she blinked in surprise. “It’ll be a little hard for them to help when they’re here and I’m back in Chicago.”

A heartbeat of silence pulsed between them before Jake demanded, “Chicago? What are you talking about?”

“Chicago. Where I live,” she pointed out, seeing but not understanding the dark scowl that crossed his face at her words. “We met in St. Louis, but you know I live in Chicago.”

“I know you lived there. When you came back here—”

“For my parents’ anniversary, for a visit.” A long overdue visit, guilt reminded her, stabbing at her conscience. “After my parents’ party—” and after she came clean about everything “—I’m going back.”

“To raise your baby alone?”

His voice had risen, and Sophia instinctively stepped forward and lifted a hand to his mouth. “My parents …” Her words trailed off as her worry about her family overhearing drifted away. The brush of Jake’s lips against her palm sent a shiver running up her arm. Goosebumps spread across her chest, and the awareness in his gaze as it drifted lower made it nearly impossible for Sophia to find the strength to step back when all she really wanted was to wrap her arms around him, press her body to his, and kiss him until they could both pretend what they’d had in St. Louis was real …

Swallowing hard, she backed away on shaky limbs and clutched at the gaping lapels of the robe. “I, um, don’t want them to find out like this.”

It might not have been her intention, but Jake’s voice was certainly lower when he told her, “I don’t get it, Sophia. What’s left for you in Chicago? You lost your job, your home.”

She flinched at the reminder, the words harder to hear coming from him. “I know what I’m doing, Jake.” She could have told him about the little apartment she had in mind, about the job with Christine and her idea of a future that kept her baby first and foremost in mind. But those plans were still up in the air. So far, she hadn’t actually found that little apartment and Christine’s business wasn’t up and running—yet. But until she had a signed lease and business cards in hand, she was keeping her plans to herself.

And besides … “The Dunworthys offered me a great severance package, remember?”

They’d paid—and paid well—for Sophia to keep her mouth shut and to disappear.

“Money is not going to give your child everything he needs,” Jake said flatly.

Sophia blinked, caught off guard at his use of the word “he.” From the moment she discovered she was pregnant, she’d had the feeling her baby was a boy. She’d mentally tried out a dozen boy names, had pictured a little boy’s room filled with trucks and trains and bright primary colors.

“Sophia, listen—”

“No, Jake.” She was already reading far too much into everything little he said. “I don’t expect you to understand, but I’ve made my decision.”

Leaving Jake standing in the hall, Sophia did what she should have in the first place and hurried into her bedroom. She leaned against the closet door, wishing she could block out her own thoughts as easily.

A mother-to-be could be excused for a harmless daydream about the little boy she might soon hold in her arms. But to think Jake shared—or worse, belonged—in that imaginary world simply because of his use of a pronoun was anything but harmless.