The Second Promise. Joan Kilby
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Название: The Second Promise
Автор: Joan Kilby
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Mills & Boon Vintage Superromance
isbn: 9781474019651
isbn:
Will was silent a moment, struggling to accept what she was saying. He came back to his seat, prepared to be a help, not a hindrance. “Okay, you’re serious. Let’s take it from there. What about the father? Who will it be? Are you planning to tell him?”
“I don’t have an arrangement with anyone yet.” She gazed down at her hands with an oddly shy smile. “Although I do have a candidate in mind.”
Will relaxed a little and leaned back against his chair. At least, she wasn’t planning on a series of one-night stands with anonymous lovers.
“And, of course, I’ll tell him,” Ida went on. “It wouldn’t be fair not to. He could have as much or as little contact as he wished. My only stipulation would be that if he opted to take on the fatherhood thing, he be prepared to stick with it. For the child’s sake.”
“I hope whoever you’re thinking of is good enough for you. He’d have to be a pretty special guy.”
Ida glanced up at him. “Oh, he’s special, all right.”
Will gazed at her determined, tear-stained face.
She gazed right back at him.
Light dawned. “You mean me?”
“Would you? I hate the idea of using a sperm bank and having a complete stranger father my baby.”
“I—I’m incredibly flattered. I just don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to think.”
“You don’t have to make up your mind right away. I know it’s a lot to spring on someone. But would you at least contemplate it? Please?”
His gut reaction was to decline, but for Ida he would consider the proposal. “Sure. I’ll think about it.”
“Thank you.” She checked her watch and sighed. “I’d better go. I’ve got so much work to catch up on.”
Will walked her out to her car. Ida opened her door and paused to search his face worriedly. “Will, whatever you decide it’s okay. I don’t want anything to hurt our friendship.”
“Nothing will hurt our friendship.” He still felt a little stunned as he leaned down to kiss her lightly on the lips. He wanted to be a father, but this wasn’t the way he’d expected it to happen. What was the point of having children if you weren’t part of a family?
CHAPTER THREE
MAEVE CLOSED her clipboard and wandered back to the patio. Her plan wasn’t as complete as she would have liked. But then, she didn’t feel she knew everything she needed to about Will. Sometimes she just had to start with the barest of an idea, and elaborate as she got to know her characters, the way a writer might.
She spread the sheets of graph paper with her roughed-in design on the table and waited for Will to return from seeing his friend—girlfriend?—out. He came through the sliding doors looking as though he’d been hit hard over the head and was still seeing stars. “Everything all right?” she asked.
“Huh?” He gave his head a little shake. “Yes. Fine. Are you finished taking measurements?”
Maeve indicated the graph paper. “See what you think.”
Will turned the paper sideways to read her tiny writing. “It’s all Greek to me.”
“Latin, actually,” Maeve said. “Sorry if it’s confusing, but using the species names of plants is second nature.”
“Where did you study?”
“Melbourne University. I have a PhD in botany.”
Will’s eyebrows disappeared upward into a lock of sun-streaked chestnut hair. “I would have thought you’d be teaching or doing research, with a degree like that.”
Maeve shrugged. “I experiment in situ in my own modest way, but I prefer growing plants to studying them, especially when I have the go-ahead to do my own thing. Which is really your thing, of course. You can get back to me on the estimate, if you like. My phone number’s on the letterhead, or you can e-mail me.”
“When would you be able to start?” he asked.
She thought for a moment. “I’m booked solid for the next two weeks, but I’ll try to rearrange some of my less-urgent jobs. I could get back here on Monday to take out that tree by the bungalow.”
“I appreciate your rearranging work for me.”
She knew he wouldn’t understand if she told him his garden was already growing inside her mind. “You…you’ve been so good to my father.”
“Nothing he didn’t earn.” For some reason Will’s mouth flattened and a frown line appeared between his eyes. He went into the house and returned a moment later carrying a checkbook. “You’ll be needing money for materials, I presume?”
Maeve handed him the second piece of paper from her clipboard. “Half of that will be enough to get me going. Labor costs are charged at an hourly rate.”
Will glanced over the itemized list and scribbled off a check. “Might as well pay for all the materials now to avoid delays in the future.”
“If you say so.” Clients weren’t usually so quick to offer money—especially those supposedly in financial straits. Mentally, she gave herself a shake; sometimes she analyzed things too much. She wrote him out a receipt, then folded his check and tucked it into her breast pocket. “I take it this means I’ve got the job.”
“Looks that way.” He stacked the papers and set them aside. “Are you busy Saturday night?”
“No, but—”
“There’s a jazz concert at the Briar’s winery this weekend,” he said over her objection. “We could take a picnic supper, sit under those big old gums and watch the cockatoos flap home to roost while the sun sets over the hills…”
Maeve smiled and held up a hand to stop his flow of words. “That sounds wonderful, but I can’t.”
“Can’t, or won’t?” he asked bluntly.
She hesitated, glanced away, then faced him squarely. “Won’t.”
“May I ask why?”
“I…don’t get involved with clients.” She couldn’t meet his eyes.
He shook his head. “I don’t buy it.”
“Okay. How about, I don’t think seeing you is a good idea given that you’re my father’s employer.”
“Bullshit,” he said politely.
“Okay…” Time to get serious, even though—no, especially because—part of her badly wanted to see him again. Her chin rose. “I don’t find you attractive.”
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