Jessie's Expecting. Kasey Michaels

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ engaged to Maddy because they seemed to have shared goals, similar desires for what they wanted out of life had been the second mistake, thinking that being a part of the warm, welcoming, loving Chandler family might be enough.

      But not telling Jessica that he had felt relieved rather than crushed when Maddy had broken their engagement…allowing Jessica to comfort him…taking that comforting to a much higher level…well, that mistake could probably win him second prize in the Screwup of the Year awards.

      Apologizing the next morning for having made love to her—that had to have netted him first prize, with oak-leaf cluster.

      The funny thing was—that was funny strange, not funny ha-ha, he reminded himself, was that the moment Almira had seen him coming she’d motioned for Mrs. Ballantine to shut off the serving machine and headed straight for him, looking more than eager to talk.

      “Darling Matt, it’s been too long,” she’d said, allowing him to kiss her cheek. The woman was a marvel. Seventy if she was a day, and looking fifty. Acting thirty. Being the best grandmother any three kids could have hoped for: hip, a real friend, and yet still very definitely the person in charge, the person who taught them both love and respect. And not looking at all ridiculous while doing any of it.

      “I’m sorry I haven’t visited sooner, Allie,” he’d answered, offering her his arm as they walked back to the house. “It was probably that No Trespassing sign Jessica put up on the front lawn that kept me away.”

      “And you should be ashamed of yourself for listening to her,” Almira countered, giving his forearm a squeeze as she leaned against him. “But, obedient as you are, you have your limits. That’s nice to know, not that I didn’t know all along. I have great faith in you, Matt. So, did Ryan tell you where she is? And then let slip that I told him to tell you?”

      Matt smiled, shook his head. “I’ll assume those were rhetorical questions. I am here, Allie, aren’t I?”

      “It was that obvious?” Almira frowned, carefully, so that she didn’t crease her smooth forehead. “I must be slipping. Either that, or Ryan considers himself to be one step ahead of me. I’ll have to teach him differently. But we’ll leave that for another time. For now, I’m supposing you want to know what I know.”

      “It would help,” Matt admitted as Almira let go of his arm, sat herself down in a shiny, black wrought iron chair as he remained standing. “It would most especially help to know if she’s just angry, or if she’d like to see me run off a cliff.”

      “A little of both, actually,” Almira said, accepting a glass of lemonade from Mrs. Ballantine, who then just stood there, her hands folded in front of her, glaring at Matt. He considered asking for a glass for himself, but then thought better of it. The way the woman was eyeing him, he’d be afraid to drink it.

      “Oh, just tell him, why don’t you. It will be obvious soon enough,” Mrs. Ballantine growled, then shrugged her shoulders as Almira smiled up at her. “I’ll be inside, running your bath. After all, this shouldn’t take more than a few minutes.”

      “Such a lovely woman, for a piranha,” Almira said after the housekeeper had gone inside. “Now,” she said, putting down her glass, “let’s talk, shall we? Did you never hear of the word protection, Matthew?”

      Protection?

      What in hell—?

      Oh boy. Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy.

      Or girl…

      Matt leaned forward from the waist, his heart pounding, his eyes all but popping out of his head as he croaked out, “Jessie’s pregnant?”

      “Bingo! Please select a prize from the bottom shelf. Unless you wish to play our game again and go for a larger prize?”

      “Allie, that’s not funny, damn it,” Matt said, beginning to pace. Was this the greatest news he’d ever gotten in his life, or the worst? That Jessica was pregnant, carrying his child, was wonderful. Great. Even terrific. But now? Was now so terrific?

      Timing. Everything was timing. And he couldn’t help believing that his timing had been off, way off. No wonder Jessica had run from him. “How…”

      “Oh, please,” Almira cut in, rising from her chair. “I think we both know how. The question is what. What are you going to do about it? Knowing that you can’t possibly tell her you know. You do realize that, don’t you? I mean, I’m not going to have to hold your hand through every step of this, am I? I’m still recovering from leading Maddy about by the nose until she finally saw what was just under it.”

      Closing his mind to the rest of that short, embarrassing conversation with Jessica’s grandmother, Matt left Ninth Street, turned left at the beginning of the beach block, and headed north, on the way to Brighton Place and the Chandler summer house.

      Almira had been right, of course. He couldn’t tell Jessica he knew she was pregnant. Just as he shouldn’t have apologized for making love with her.

      And he couldn’t possibly confess that he’d been in love with her for months…for years.

      She wouldn’t believe him for one thing, and, for another, he couldn’t blame her. He’d made mistakes. He’d made some real whoppers. And now he’d gotten her pregnant—not a solo exercise by any stretch of the imagination—but certainly a result Jessica, the born career woman, couldn’t be doing handsprings about, overjoyed.

      So, without telling her he’d be there for her, without asking her to marry him, without so much as hinting that he knew she was pregnant, he was here, in Ocean City, without a plan, without a prayer, and with only his stupid, apologetic speech to protect him.

      He might as well be going into battle carrying an anchor.

      Is anybody else feeling some sort of excitement in the pit of their bellies? Something’s coming. Someone’s coming. Something’s about to change.

      Maybe everything is about to change.

      And I’m feeling good, feeling really good. Must be some good stuff coming at me now, something sweet and cool that seems to be making Mom’s belly happy. Wish I could taste it.

      She’s doing all the right things. Eating a lot, sleeping a lot. Getting plenty of exercise and fresh air. But still crying too much, and now even talking to herself.

      She should talk to me. I am here, right? Yeah, she should be talking to me. I could tell her. Everything is going to be all right. She’ll see. I’ll take care of her….

      Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

      Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

      Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

      Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, СКАЧАТЬ