However, waking up next to the man felt as though she was going in the opposite direction of where she needed to be. She was supposed to be getting him out of her life. Or, at least, not building up her expectations for having him in it on a permanent basis.
Her hands fisted in frustration at how easy it had been to fall under his spell again. When her ex-boyfriend had found out she was pregnant a few years ago, it had led to a swift breakup. Sure, it had been heartbreaking at the time, but at least Trey hadn’t lingered, making promises that he knew he never truly intended to keep.
Logically, Rebekah knew she shouldn’t be comparing the two men, especially while one of them was still in her bed. And really, Trey and Grant were as different as night and day. Her ex had been focused, steady; she’d always known what to expect with him, even down to his unbending intentions to never be a father. But Grant was so...was so...she lifted her arms to cover her head in frustration. She didn’t even know what Grant was, or more important, what to expect from him.
All she knew was that, against her better judgment, she was attracted to him and she could easily be swayed into believing his promises if she let her guard down around him. She also knew that she wasn’t about to waste another six years of her life on a man who wouldn’t stay by her side no matter what.
She attempted to scoot her body toward the side of the bed, but Grant immediately rolled with her, stretching an arm across her waist. As the sheets shifted, a growl sounded from between their two bodies.
Grant’s eyes were closed as he tousled the dog’s ears. “Is Mommy stealing your sheets again, Angus?”
“What happened to his spot on the sofa?” Rebekah sat up gently. She’d recently learned that moving too quickly in the morning could bring on an extra bout of queasiness.
“He came in here in the middle of night and was whimpering on your side of the bed. I didn’t want him to wake you, so I just pulled him up here with us.”
With us. Rebekah had always slept alone, and suddenly she was sharing her bed with both a man and a dog. How had things gone from pretend dating to this?
Her phone vibrated on the bedside table. She’d had it beside her when she was working last night, so Grant must’ve carried it in here, too. She saw the name on the screen and gasped. “It’s your Aunt Bunny.”
“Tell her I said good-morning.” Grant stretched, the bare muscles of his shoulders and chest on prominent display. Her eyes immediately went downward, her mind straying toward thoughts of what was under the sheet. Apparently, he was perfectly comfortable making himself at home in her bed.
“I’m not answering it.” Rebekah sent the call to voice mail. “And I’m definitely not telling her you said hello or anything else that might make her think that you’re here with me.”
“I’m sure Birdie told her yesterday that I was staying the night to help keep an eye on Angus. Plus, your car is still in the parking lot at Furever Paws. She’s probably calling to give you last-minute instructions about our visit to the bird sanctuary.”
“Oh, no, I forgot about the bird sanctuary.” She looked at Grant. “Do we really have to go there today?”
“Have you met Aunt Bunny? I know she’s the more forgetful aunt, but when it comes to animals, she can be pretty focused and determined.”
Rebekah’s phone immediately rang again and Grant said, “Which means she’s not going to stop calling you until she knows we’re on the road.”
He gave her a wink, then stood up and practically strutted to the bathroom.
Yep. He’d been totally, comfortably nude under that sheet.
* * *
Why hadn’t Rebekah insisted on setting some boundaries between them last night? She asked herself that question for the eight hundredth time as they drove down Route 64 along the Albemarle Sound.
Instead, she’d had sex with him—twice—then pretended to work during dinner before falling asleep and waking up with Grant in her bed. Never in her life had Rebekah been so reluctant to face a challenge or make hard decisions. She squeezed her eyes shut behind her dark sunglasses.
This whole pregnancy must be doing something strange to her emotions. That was the only explanation that made any sense.
Hell, she’d even agreed to foster a dog yesterday.
She glanced behind her at Angus, who’d taken over the back seat of Grant’s rental car the same way he’d taken over her sofa. Grant wasn’t doing anything to rein him in...but to be fair, neither was she—and that was totally unlike her. Clearly, she wasn’t making logical decisions.
Which was why she’d been even more determined to go to this bird sanctuary at her boss’s request to gather as much information as she could for a full report and recommendation. If Rebekah kept her mind focused on work, she wouldn’t have to worry about her thoughts slipping to how perfectly she’d fit in Grant’s arms last night. Or how perfectly formed his body had looked this morning as he’d walked around her townhome half-dressed.
Despite the fact that her morning sickness was now flirting with possible car sickness, she mostly kept her eyes glued to the tablet on her lap as she researched the bird sanctuary and made notes about their business model.
“Go ahead and email me the notes from those focus group discussions.” Grant spoke into his wireless Bluetooth, the one he’d been using for the entire two hours that they’d been on the road. “I’ll take a look at them before the video conference call with the retail suppliers this afternoon.”
Rebekah didn’t feel so bad about avoiding conversation with the guy when he clearly had his own business matters to handle. Of course, it also made her question why a busy man like Grant was spending so much time in North Carolina lately—helping out his aunts with things that Rebekah or other members of the Furever Paws staff could probably be doing.
Before she could ask as much, Angus’s ears perked up as the car slowed to take the highway exit and he lifted his paws onto one windowsill before marching along the back seat to observe the scenery out of the other window.
Grant lifted his eyes to the rearview mirror. “Laird Angus looks like he’s standing sentry along the castle keep, going from one watchtower to the next.”
Just like her, the animal seemed much more apprehensive than excited about arriving at their destination.
“Maybe I should’ve left him at home,” Rebekah said. What she really meant was perhaps both she and the dog should’ve stayed home.
“Remember, Birdie thought it’d be a good idea to get Angus out and try to socialize him a bit more. See how he interacts with other people and animals.”
It turned out that Angus did fine interacting with the office staff. In fact, he was so quiet and so low to the ground, Rebekah had to wonder if anyone behind the counters had even seen him. It was the socializing with other animals that soon became a problem. Angus went nuts at the sight of the flamingos near the entrance and barked his little furry head off, straining at his leash in his attempts to try and round up the birds as though they were a flock of sheep.
“We usually only allow service animals,” the director explained as Grant laughed at Angus’s antics while Rebekah tried to shush the dog and get him under control.
Rebekah had a sudden glimpse into what raising children with Grant would be like. He’d be the playful one, the parent who would indulge their children in sugar and wrestling matches and get them all amped up before bedtime. And Rebekah would be the rule enforcer, the parent who made them eat their vegetables and wash their hands.
Her gaze narrowed and Grant must’ve picked up on her annoyance because he cleared his throat and said, “Why don’t I take Angus out front to the park and let him run around while you take the tour?”
To the park? To have fun while Rebekah did all the work? Not that taking a tour was necessarily work but taking thorough notes so she could report back to Bunny and Birdie afterward would require quite an e
ffort. Especially when Rebekah already knew that she’d have to inform them that there was no way Furever Paws could accommodate birds with their limited budget. There was no way to save all the animals all the time.
“Actually,” Rebekah responded. “Since this was your trip initially, why don’t you go on the tour and I’ll take Angus out and play?”
She didn’t wait for a response, but scooped the still-barking dog into her arms and carried him toward the exit. Maybe it was childish and petty, but the sooner she set a precedent of Grant taking on his fair share of the menial, less playful tasks, the sooner she could prove that he wasn’t cut out for long-term fatherhood.
Not that she didn’t think her kids needed a father in their lives, but if she kept her expectations of Grant lower, then she wouldn’t be setting herself—or their children—up for disappointment when Grant took off at the first sign of trouble.
It hadn’t even been a full hour when he came to find Rebekah and Angus in the park, proving her right. Smugness coursed through her, but there was also a tinge of disappointment. “I see you couldn’t last the full two hours for the entire tour.”
“No need to.” Grant smiled and held up two bottles of water he must’ve bought in the gift shop. “I’d already researched the place last week when Bunny mentioned it to me, and the director had answered most of my questions in an email a few days ago. If my aunt was here, she’d want to see each and every bird, but I’m more of a dog guy myself, right Angus?”
Grant handed Rebekah one of the bottles and then knelt down next to the dog and poured some water into a cupped hand. Angus eagerly lapped it up and Rebekah sizzled with guilt for not thinking about the fact that the dog might be thirsty. It had to be eighty degrees in the shade, and she was gulping her water just as greedily as he was.
She wiped her mouth on the back of her wrist, trying to make the action as ladylike as possible. “So if you’d already done the research, and you didn’t plan to see the birds, why’d we drive all the way here?”
He could’ve at least mentioned something before she’d made herself carsick staring at her tablet for over two hours of the ride, learning everything she possibly could about the bird sanctuary.
“Because my aunt asked me to.” He rose to his feet as if that explained a perfectly logical waste of Rebekah’s entire day. “The director told me there’s a great restaurant a couple of miles down the sound. It has outdoor seating and is dog friendly. You wanna grab some lunch, boy?”
Angus yipped and tugged on his leash as he led the humans toward the car.
“Or we could head back to Spring Forest and I could get some actual work done today,” Rebekah suggested.
“You know,” Grant said as he opened her passenger door, “it’s okay to take the day off every once in a while.”
Rebekah felt her eyes narrow and it took every ounce of control not to unleash her annoyance at him. She still wasn’t exactly sure what Grant did at his job—besides make things sound better than they were. But he apparently did it well.
Maybe she could use their lunch detour as an opportunity to find out something more about the guy who’d fathered her children. At this point, the only things she knew with any degree of certainty were that he was infuriating...and good in bed.
Chapter Eleven
Good thing Grant wasn’t trying to impress anyone at lunch with their pretend relationship because this fish-and-chips stand was far from romantic. But at least it was outdoors and airy, which hopefully meant the smell of seafood was less likely to make Rebekah queasy. The place was packed, and they ended up having to share one of the wooden patio tables with a family of five. The crab cakes were amazing, though, and the tartar sauce was the best he’d ever tasted.
He couldn’t really have anything resembling a private conversation with Rebekah because they were stuck next to a toddler who kept stealing French fries off of her mom’s plate and giving them to Angus under the table. The five-year-old boy wanted to know who Grant’s third favorite superhero was, the preteen was watching music videos on her phone at full blast, and the parents kept apologizing to Grant and Rebekah for the chaos.
An older couple with an overweight dachshund sat down at the table next to them and suddenly Angus had some competition for the French fries that were now being stolen off Rebekah’s plate, as well.
Because the dog had been living on the streets for so long, Grant wasn’t sure how well Angus would do sharing food with the plump, sausage-shaped dog.
“Come on, boy.” Grant took the leash from where Rebekah had looped it up to her elbow. Then he picked up his used plate and the used napkins closest to him and told the dog, “Let’s go down to the beach and take a little walk before we get back in the car.”
Rebekah caught up to him near the trash cans. “Why do you always do that?”
“Do what?”
“Take off for the fun walks and leave me with the work.”
“What work?” he wanted to know.
“Well, earlier, it was the tour at the bird sanctuary. And just now it was...” She paused as she looked down at the plastic tray with the remainder of their trash. He took it out of her hands and disposed of it just before a seagull landed on the trash can and squawked at them.
“Listen, I would’ve taken your plate for you, but Angus was already straining on the leash and you didn’t look as though you were quite done with your food.”
“I was done as soon as the little girl started swiping my fries with fingers covered in dog saliva.” Rebekah pulled a bottle of antibacterial gel out of her enormous tote bag and squirted a stream onto her hands. “Where are you going?”
“I was going to take Angus down to the beach for a walk. Remember?”
“I thought you were just saying that as an excuse to get away from all the kids and that mean wiener dog who kept growling at him.”
“Well, it was partly an excuse, but I also thought it would be fun to let him play near the water.”
“Are you sure dogs are allowed down here?” she asked as they walked along the wooden planks toward the sand below. There weren’t many people out here since it was a weekday afternoon.
“I didn’t see a sign forbidding it.” Grant bent over to unhook Angus’s leash.
“What are you doing?” Rebekah placed a hand on his shoulder. “What if he runs away?”
“Let’s give him a little freedom and see what he does,” Grant suggested. Noting her response, he then added, “What was that for?”
“What?” she asked.
“You just rolled your eyes at me. And now you’re doing that huffy breath thing. If you’re mad about something, you can just tell me.”
“Let’s just say I’m starting to get a glimpse of how it’s going to be if we decide to coparent. You’ll always be the fun one, giving the kids all kinds of freedom and letting them get away with everything. And I’m going to be the rule enforcer that they never want to be with.”
“What do you mean, if we decide to coparent?” Something twisted in his gut and he didn’t think it was just the fried food from lunch. “I told you already that I plan to be in our children’s lives. So it’s not a matter of if we coparent but how we coparent that we need to discuss.”
Rebekah’s eyes were clear and calculating as she studied him. But she didn’t offer a rebuttal. Or anything else that would constitute an actual discussion of the very topic she’d been avoiding for the past couple of weeks. Grant put his hands on his hips, ready to get the battle of words out of the way once and for all.
Rebekah sighed. “Fine, you can let him off the leash. But if he takes off, I’m not going to be able to chase after him in these heels.”
It wasn’t the concession he wanted to hear from her, but he had the sense that it was the best he’d be getting right now. Grant shrugged. “Then take your shoes off and experience the relaxing feeling of b
eing the fun parent. Let me worry about Angus.”
She swallowed a groan, then braced herself against him as she removed her strappy sandals. He flexed his biceps under her hand as she balanced herself on one foot and then the other.
“Now your turn, boy,” he told the dog as he bent again to unhook the leash. Luckily, Angus didn’t run away. But he did run to the edge of the water and then back again. In fact, he did several laps, and when Grant found a piece of driftwood, he gave it a little toss to see what the dog would do.
Angus proudly retrieved the driftwood and carried it back, dropping it at Rebekah’s feet. She laughed and threw it again for him, and Grant decided he could stand here all day, watching her laughing and playing with the dog. Eventually, the stick ended up in the water and Angus barked at it, as though he could order the wood to return to the shore.
Grant slipped out of his flip-flops and walked into the water. When he was up to his knees Angus let out a series of happy yips and came crashing into the water near him.
“No!” Rebekah yelled. “Grab him before he drowns.”
But the dog’s short legs began paddling and Angus deftly motored his little body to the stick and retrieved it before easily making his way back to the sand.
“Look who’s a natural at swimming,” Grant said excitedly. He threw the stick back in the water over and over again, and Angus eagerly retrieved it every time.
“I think I’m going to need to take you out on the waves with me one day,” he told the dog, who was now panting lazily at Rebekah’s feet.
“No way,” Rebekah said. “He’s too little to go surfing.”
Angus’s response was to shake water all over her.
Grant knew that Rebekah cared way more about the dog than she was letting on. In fact, he had a feeling that she cared far too much about a lot of things, and that’s why she wasn’t allowing Grant to get too close to her. To test his theory, he bent down to clip the leash to Angus’s collar and said, “Is that your way of telling Mommy that you want to go surfing with Daddy? Maybe we’ll teach your brothers or sisters how to surf, too.”
It Started with a Pregnancy Page 12