Christmas Baby. Judy Duarte

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СКАЧАТЬ it had been a little frightening. So even though Jillian found it hard to believe that Shane had a similar trait, the question was too important to ignore. Yet by the time she’d fallen asleep at two in the morning, she hadn’t been any closer to having an answer.

      And now, as she threw off the covers and rolled out of bed, she glanced at the clock on the bureau, only to realize it was after eight. So she slipped on her robe and padded into the living area.

      The aroma of brewing coffee and sizzling bacon filled the air, taunting her taste buds. But that was nothing compared with the stirring ache of hunger she felt at seeing Shane move about the small kitchen, balancing his time between the skillet of breakfast meat and a mixing bowl into which he was cracking an egg.

      Thomas wouldn’t have been caught dead in a kitchen, let alone cooking. But then again, he’d grown up with a full household staff that had been quick to handle his every need.

      Jillian placed a hand on her growing tummy and caressed the swell of her womb. If she and Shane ended up with a shared-custody arrangement, would he go to this kind of trouble for their child? She hoped so.

      Before she could utter a cheerful, “Good morning,” she watched him grimace and stroke the back of his neck, kneading the muscles from the top to the bottom.

      “What’s the matter?” she asked.

      He turned, clearly not aware that she’d been watching him, then his hand lowered and a smile burst across his freshly shaven face. “Hey! Good morning.”

      “You were rubbing your neck. Does it hurt?”

      “It’s not that bad. I just slept on it wrong.”

      She wasn’t exactly buying that, since he’d probably been cramped on the sofa and hadn’t been able to stretch out all the way.

      “I’m sorry,” she said.

      “About what?”

      “Not letting you have the bed.”

      “Don’t give it another thought. I fall asleep watching TV all the time, so when I bought that sofa, I made sure it was comfortable.”

      Yes, but would it have hurt to let him stretch out on the bed beside her? Sleeping together didn’t mean they had to have sex.

      Had to?

      Yeah, right. Making love with Shane Hollister would be a privilege, not a chore.

      As the sweet memories of their one night together rose to the surface, tempting her, taunting her, she tamped them down the best she could. Those were dangerous thoughts for a woman who didn’t want their relationship to be complicated.

      Maybe she should just wait and see what the day would bring.

      “I’m making hotcakes and bacon for breakfast,” Shane said, turning back to his work. “I hope that’s okay. I also have cereal in the pantry and yogurt in the fridge—if you’d rather have something else.”

      To be honest, she would prefer to eat something lighter than pancakes, something with fewer carbs and less sugar. But how could she tell him that when he’d tried so hard to surprise her this morning?

      So she said, “Hotcakes sound great. I’ll have cereal and fruit tomorrow morning.”

      “All right.” He turned the fire down on the bacon, then reached into a drawer for the egg beaters. “Would you like some coffee?”

      “I’ve cut back on caffeine, so I’ll just have a glass of orange juice, if that’s okay.”

      “Of course. It’s in the fridge.”

      She made her way to the kitchen area, opened the refrigerator and scanned the full shelves until she found a carton of OJ.

      “You know,” Shane said, while she carried the juice to the counter and reached for a glass. “I was thinking about something that might be fun to do today. How would you like to ride out to the lake? We could pack a lunch, maybe do some fishing.”

      “Sure.” She’d had a good time when they’d strolled down Main Street last night. And being outdoors on such a lovely summer day was very appealing.

      As she poured the juice, she asked, “Do I have time to shower before breakfast? I’ll make it quick.”

      “Take your time. I can keep everything warm.”

      Less than an hour later, after they’d eaten breakfast and made a lunch of turkey sandwiches, grapes, chips and bottled water, they climbed into Shane’s pickup and drove across town to the lake.

      On the way, Shane pointed out the Brighton Valley Medical Center, as well as the new elementary school.

      “The older kids have had to take the bus to Wexler for years,” he said, “but that’ll soon be a thing of the past. They’re going to build a new high school next year.”

      Jillian nodded, as though he was just making casual conversation, but from the way he was singing the praises of Brighton Valley, she began to wonder if he was trying to sell her on the place.

      She almost discarded the idea, then thought better of it.

      Was that what he was trying to do? She had a feeling it was.

      She stole a glance across the seat at the handsome cowboy’s profile, which was enough to turn a woman’s heart on end.

      With an elbow resting on the open window, one hand on the wheel, his eyes on the road ahead and a boyish grin on his face, he didn’t seem to be plotting and planning.

      So she turned back to studying the passing scenery, the landscape and buildings.

      Sure, the town was quaint and the people she’d met so far seemed nice. It was the kind of place she wouldn’t mind visiting. But Jillian wouldn’t want to move here. After all, her grandmother lived in Houston. And that’s where the university was located.

      It was one thing to take off a semester because she was due to have a baby, but there’s no way she’d give up her plan to get a credential or her dream of teaching. Not again.

      And there was no way she’d ever leave Gram all alone in the city, without any family nearby.

      “Is there any chance you’d move back to Houston?” she asked.

      “No, not at this point in my life.”

      “Why not?”

      He paused for a moment, and she assumed he might be planning to sing the praises of small-town life. Instead, he said, “It’s complicated.”

      She wondered if his move had anything to do with the reason he’d left the HPD, but his short, clipped answer was proof that he didn’t want to discuss the details with her.

      If that was the case, she’d let the subject drop for a while, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t get the answer to her question, even if she had to draw it out of him—one word at a time.

      After СКАЧАТЬ