- -
- 100%
- +
“In other words, you think I have the upper hand.”
“No. You may have money, and maybe you can hire the best nannies there are in this world, but I’m this child’s mother. Not by accident, but because I wanted this baby. I think that will pretty much balance the scales unless you resort to something underhanded.”
“You’re not afraid to pitch straight, are you?” he asked, a bit wryly.
“I might be merely a second-grade teacher, and I might live a simpler life than you do, but I’ll fight for this child with every breath inside of me.”
Neither of them spoke for a full minute. Finally he stood and she did the same so he wouldn’t tower over her any more than he already did.
“Round one is over,” he concluded. “I think we both established that neither of us is going to sign away our parental rights.”
“What do we do about round two?”
After studying her for a few moments, he eased one hand into his pocket. “I think we should take an intermission before we jump into the ring again. How about that boat ride?”
“You’re serious?”
“I didn’t bring you to the Delta to sit on the deck and rock in the ripples. I think you’re more fearless than that.”
He had her pegged wrong this time. She wasn’t fearless at all. She was afraid he’d somehow manage to take this baby away from her. She was afraid she’d forget B.J.’s face. She was afraid that Blake Winston could be too persuasive when he set his mind to be. Yet she wouldn’t let him see the fear because that would definitely be giving him the upper hand.
“All right,” she agreed. “Take me for a boat ride. But I’ll warn you right now, I’m pregnant and I just ate supper.”
At that, he chuckled and shook his head. “I’ll consider myself warned. Stay right there and I’ll get your life jacket.”
Blake made sure Jenna had safely returned from the bathroom and was comfortable on the deck before he took the helm. She held on to the arms of the captain’s chair as the boat moved away from the slip and onto the river. After a few minutes, she began to relax…if that was at all possible under the circumstances.
Jenna watched as they passed all the Sacramento marinas. Then the boat picked up speed, and she felt as if she were on a cruise. The blue sky, the hum of the engine, the sun and the warm breeze made her realize she’d never had an experience quite like this. She could see why Blake was drawn to the water. It was peaceful out here in a way that nothing else could be peaceful.
It seemed only a short while later when Blake dropped anchor in a cove and descended the stairs to the deck. “I thought you might like to take it all in from a different vantage point. I know you don’t feel free to walk around while we’re moving.”
He was right about that. She’d almost fallen asleep in the comfortable chair and had been content there. Standing, she stretched, all the while aware of Blake as he stood at the rail looking far down the river. His shoulders were so broad, his skin tanned, his body fit. A tingle of excitement rushed through her as she went to stand at the rail beside him, making sure their elbows didn’t touch, reminding herself Blake only wanted something from her—his child.
Taking his phone from his belt, he handed it to her. “Why don’t you call Pierson. It’s almost five and I’m sure he’s probably ready to put out an APB on you.”
As she glanced at her watch, she realized it was indeed five o’clock. She couldn’t believe they’d been on the water for an hour. He was probably right about Rafe being worried. As she punched in the number, she asked, “This will work here?”
“There’s a tower not far away on the shoreline. While I’m out, I often duck in here to make a few calls.”
Walking over to the bench seat, she gazed out at the horizon. Rafe’s receptionist answered on the second ring and then patched her through.
“Rafe, it’s Jenna.”
“I was beginning to get worried. How was your drive?”
“Um…it’s not over yet. I’m out on Blake’s boat.”
There was silence. “Jenna, do you know what you’re doing?”
“Not exactly.” She glanced at Blake and saw he was watching her.
“Do you know how unorthodox this is? You shouldn’t be fraternizing with him if we’re thinking about going to court.”
If they did go to court, who was going to pay those bills? She didn’t want to say that and have Blake overhear. “We’ll talk about it when I see you.”
“I’ll be in court all day tomorrow.”
“Then I’ll talk to you on Thursday.”
She heard his heavy sigh. “You can be as stubborn as Shannon.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Call me tonight when you get home.”
“Rafe…”
“Call me, Jenna.”
“All right. But don’t let the rest of your hair turn gray over this. I’m fine. In fact, it’s very peaceful out here.”
“The calm before the storm,” her lawyer muttered.
A few minutes later she stretched out her arm to give Blake his phone. His fingers brushed over hers as he took it, and she again felt guilt as something besides the baby stirred inside of her, something she hadn’t even felt with B.J.
Still trying to absorb the tingling jolt of awareness that had rushed through her at the brush of his skin on hers, she peered into the distance, trying to see the future, trying to see her life without B.J. but with Blake Winston’s child. It was unfathomable, as deeply hidden as any buried treasure.
“Do you have other children?” she suddenly asked Blake.
His brows arched. “No, I don’t. I’ve never been married, either, if you’re wondering about that.”
There was an edge to his voice, and she realized he didn’t like personal questions. “You know a whole lot more about me than I know about you.”
The tension seemed to leave his brow as he turned his back to the railing and faced her. “I don’t have any other children because I’ve always been careful.”
She needed to ask the most personal question of all and felt awkward doing it. Yet the answer was more important than her discomfort. “Why did you have your sperm frozen?”
At first she thought he wasn’t going to answer her, that he’d go right back up those stairs and pilot them back to the marina. But then he said, “I’d heard that men’s sperm become less potent as they age. Since a serious relationship isn’t in the cards for me, I decided I’d hire a surrogate and have a baby after I was forty. Freezing my sperm seemed like the practical thing to do.”
She felt as if she’d landed in a minefield. There were so many questions she wanted to ask, yet from the expression on his face, she knew he wouldn’t answer them.
“I suppose everyone tries to plan their future and very few succeed,” she mused. “It never quite goes the way we expect, does it?”
“Fate has thrown its share of boomerangs at me,” he admitted, as though he was telling her something he wouldn’t tell many others.
Being on this boat with him created intimacy that scared her. Maybe it was the way he was looking at her, maybe it was the sparks of silver in his gray eyes, maybe it was the way they were standing almost toe to toe.
Slowly he reached out and fingered a tendril of her hair that wisped along her cheek. Waves of heat seemed to undulate between them. “You’re a very beautiful woman, Jenna.”
She felt her cheeks go hot for many reasons, mostly because she’d never thought of herself in those terms. “I’m pregnant,” she said, as if that contradicted him.
His crooked half smile made her tummy flip-flop. “I think being pregnant has just added to your beauty.”
She was twenty-six, but she felt like a naive teenager with this man.
“I’m glad you came along with me today.” His voice was husky and as mesmerizing as his eyes.
She didn’t know if it was the sway of the boat or the force of the breeze, or something else entirely, but she felt herself leaning toward him. As he began to bend his head, the call of a gull startled her and she was totally dismayed at what she’d almost let happen.
Stepping away from Blake, she tried to slow her racing pulse. “I think we’d better go back.”
He didn’t look at all flustered, and she wondered if his tender touch had been planned along with everything else this afternoon. Was this why Rafe had been fearful for her? Had he been afraid she’d come under Blake Winston’s spell?
That wasn’t going to happen. She had her child to think about.
Turning away from Blake, she went over to the captain’s chair again and settled into it, waiting for him to take her back to the marina. When she returned to Fawn Grove, she’d call Rafe and then they’d plan a strategy. This man would not take her baby away from her.
She wouldn’t let him.
Chapter Three
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.