by Sarah Hegger
“I said I’m sorry. I got pissy with you earlier and you don’t need more crap on your plate right now. I want to help, not make life more difficult for you.” He took a breath. “So, I’m getting out of your face, stepping back. You tell me what you need and I’ll see what I can do to make that happen.”
Her mouth must have dropped open because he reached over and shut it for her. “Have I actually rendered you speechless?”
“Uhngnhu.”
“Somebody should get this down for the record books. This is the second time I’ve managed that amazing feat.”
“No more … touching and stuff?”
He raised his hands to the sides of his head. “No pressure of any kind.”
This is what she wanted. Right?
“Am I forgiven?”
“Uh … okay.” Way to go on the together thing, Holly.
He grinned at her. “As a gesture of atonement, I’ve made an appointment for you at the Canadian consulate. I have a contact there who might be able to put a rush on your passport.”
“A woman?”
“Yup.” He rose smoothly, his face bland.
Holly wasn’t born yesterday. “An ex-girlfriend?”
“An old friend.” He turned the tables on her effortlessly with one of his big charm-school smiles.
Holly snorted as she got to her feet. “Stop messing with me.”
“Okay and no, she really is an old friend. You look good.” He gave her the top-to-toe sweep. “Is that one of the things Lucy lent you?”
Too smooth, too bland. He was up to something.
One of the things Lucy lent her? Right. She had her burgeoning suspicions, but his eyes gave the game away. She let it go.
An appointment at the consulate was good. It meant she could get her passport sooner and go home. And that was the best thing for everyone.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Holly’s eyes popped open. What?
“Joshua, darling? Are you awake? I wanted to let you know I was here.” A woman’s voice, rich with the smoothed edges of a French accent.
To hell with this.
“It’s not Joshua.” Holly snapped on the light.
“Oh.”
The woman stared at Holly.
Holly stared back.
There was a stunned silence. They both spoke, then stopped.
The woman was older than Holly expected; much older in fact. Her dark hair, liberally laced with silver, was cropped short and elfin around her face. It was an interesting rather than a pretty face, with a delicate but strong bone structure. “Who are you?”
“Holly. I’m Holly Partridge. Who are you?”
“Never mind who I am. What are you doing in Joshua’s bed?”
That was a bit personal. “What are you doing in his house?”
The woman’s chest swelled. “It’s not his house. It’s my house, and I’ll ask the questions. So, Holly, what are you doing in my son’s bed?”
Oh, fuck. Recognition hit her like a ton of bricks. Josh’s mother; what was her name? Donna. It would have been more helpful if she’d realized it a moment or so earlier.
“Oh. Hi.” Holly pulled the covers up to her chin. She wanted to disappear beneath them altogether.
Donna eyed her speculatively.
Holly got the picture; a girl in Josh’s room in the middle of the night. This couldn’t be looking good from Donna’s perspective. Holly desperately tried to think of a way to explain the situation, but nothing came immediately to mind. Nothing quick, anyway. “Josh said it would be all right if we stayed here.”
Donna crossed her arms over her chest and gave Holly a decidedly unfriendly stare. “I’m sorry to tell you, Miss Holly Partridge, that I do not allow my son to bring his women to this house. You are going to have to get up and get dressed.”
It didn’t seem possible that petite Donna could have given birth to her three hulking sons. But she didn’t need size when she had that look in her arsenal.
Holly gathered up her courage. “Actually, I’m not one of Josh’s women. Not in that way, anyhow.”
Those penetrating blue eyes didn’t flicker or waver.
Holly squirmed like a bug on a pin. “Well, not now, anyway. I—”
“Maman?” Josh’s voice came from the hallway beyond the door.
Thank you, Jesus. Let Mr. Smooth Talker come up with an explanation.
Donna stepped back and turned in the direction of his voice. “Oui. Est-ce que c’est toi? Qui est cette femme?”
Holly quelled the desire to giggle hysterically. It was like being a teenager all over again.
“What are you doing back?” Josh enveloped the smaller woman in a hug.
Donna returned the embrace for a moment before she freed herself and gave her son a slap on the arm. “Put a shirt on, Joshua.” She straightened her linen blouse. “I came back a few days early. What are you doing in my house? And who is the woman in your bed?”
“I see you’ve met Holly.” Josh jogged into the room, briefly framed by the light behind him in the doorway. “Holly, meet my mother, Donna.” He gestured grandly.
“And Ma, this is Holly, and it’s not what it looks like.”
They both murmured something suitable and continued to eye each other suspiciously.
Holly wanted to get out of bed, but she couldn’t take the chance Donna would spot Josh’s T-shirt in an instant.
A door opened down the hall and Holly tensed.
Josh glanced in that direction and back at her. He grimaced. “Portia.”
Soft footsteps pattered in the hallway, and Donna’s eyebrows hit her hairline.
Portia pushed past Donna and into the room. She rubbed her eyes sleepily. “Holly?”
And of course she wore nothing more than sleep shorts and a cami. Perfect.
All eyes snapped in Portia’s direction.
Portia looked at Josh and Donna and, finally, Holly. “What’s going on, Holly?”
“Yes, Holly.” Donna finished her visual appraisal of Portia and raised her eyebrows. “It’s an excellent question.”
It was a bloody farce. Holly stuffed the edge of the sheet into her mouth. She was going to start laughing like a bloody hyena. Another door opened farther down the hall.
“Portia?” Emma’s voice reached them.
Ah, hell no. Not Emma. The funny side of the situation disappeared like smoke and Holly sat up straight.
Donna glared at her son.
He threw up his hands in surrender. “I can explain.”
“Oh, I hope so,” she said and grimly watched the newest addition.
“What are you doing up?” Emma appeared at Portia’s shoulder. “And what are you doing in his bed?” Her eyes widened as she spotted Holly. “We talked about this. You said you weren’t going to sleep with him anymore.”
“You talked about this?” Josh fired a quick look in her direction.
“He wasn’t in it with me.” Holly hushed her sister with a hand motion. The farce had just morphed into a fucking nightmare.
Emma pursed her lips like a maiden aunt and folded her arms primly over her chest. “Oh, really?”
“What does that mean?” Portia blinked at Emma. “Holly?”
“I would like to know what all of this means.” Donna crossed her arms.
Oh, God. Holly swallowed convulsively.
Josh tugged a T-shirt over his head. He ran a quick hand through his tousled hair. “Emma doesn’t mean anything.” He gave Portia’s shoulder an awkward pat. “My mother surprised us, that’s all.”
“Holly?” Portia frowned at her in childlike confusion. “Why does Emma think you’re sleeping with him? You can’t be because Josh is with me.”
Emma, Holly, and Josh all froze.
Donna narrowed her eyes.
“Did you just get back?” Josh’s voice was too loud as he took his mother by the arm.
“Yes, about half an hour ago.” Donna’s gaze moved constantly between Holly, Portia, and Emma.
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Josh tugged her arm lightly.
Donna snatched it away. “Stop pulling on me, Joshua. I am not going anywhere until I get an explanation.”
“I will explain.” Josh spread his hands wide. “But could we do this in the kitchen? The girls are standing here in their underwear.”
“That is exactly what I want explained. Why is my house filled with nearly naked young women?” She poked him in the chest. “You may be thirty-one years old, Joshua, but this is still my house and my rules.”
“Holly, who is this?” Emma stuck her chin up imperiously.
For the love of God, could Emma not shut up? Just once in her life, could she take her head out of her ass long enough to clue in to what was happening?
Donna smirked at Emma. “I own this house, cherie. I think I should be asking the questions, n’est-ce pas?”
“Oh.” Emma’s shoulders slumped and she dropped her head.
“I don’t understand, Holly.” Portia threw her hands out in a helpless gesture. “Why does Emma think you’re sleeping with Josh?” She looked from Holly to Josh and back again. “You can’t be sleeping with him. Josh is my boyfriend.”
“No,” yelled Holly and Josh together.
Donna’s spine snapped straight.
“Not now, Portia.” Holly tried for a stern, no-nonsense tone of voice. “Let’s get dressed and give Josh a chance to tell his mother everything.”
“I can explain all of it.” Josh pushed a hand through his hair.
“I am sure you can.” Donna kept her eyes on the girls. “And am I going to want to hear the explanation?”
Portia touched her belly. “He must tell her about the baby.”
Ah, fuck!
Emma gasped.
Josh paled beneath his tan, and his jaw clenched.
Portia ran to Josh and placed her hands against his chest. She raised herself onto her toes. “Tell her about our baby, Josh.”
“Whaaa …” Donna went as pale as her son and her mouth dropped open. “Que veut-elle dire, Joshua? Tu ferais mieux de tout m’expliquer et rapidement. Est-tu le père d’ un bébé? Avec cette jeune fille? Est-ce que tu a mis cette jeune fille enceinte?”
The French was too fast for Holly to follow. The gist of it was that Donna wanted to know what the hell was going on.
Holly didn’t blame her. Three strange women standing, nearly naked, in her house, and one of them claiming to be carrying her son’s child.
“Don’t worry, maman.” Josh pushed Portia gently out of the way and approached his mother. “It’s not what you’re thinking.” He pulled awry face. “I’m not sure exactly what you’re thinking, but I can imagine, and it’s not that. Only, can you come to the kitchen?” Josh took a deep breath. “Please?”
Donna followed without resistance as he led her away.
Not out of the woods yet, but getting there. Holly let out the breath she’d been holding.
“Why doesn’t he tell her about the baby, Emma?” Portia turned huge wounded eyes to her twin. “Doesn’t he want the baby?”
Emma bustled over and put her arm around Portia’s thin shoulders. “I told you this would happen,” she said fiercely to Holly. “Look what you’ve done now.”
“Get dressed.” One more word and she might give in to temptation and slap Emma silly.
Holly splashed water on her face, brushed her teeth, and pulled on the same clothes as yesterday. It was just past six thirty in the morning, but she didn’t think anyone was going back to sleep. Except Portia, who could sleep most of the day away.
Josh and Donna were in the kitchen, talking quietly.
If only she’d stayed asleep a few minutes longer this morning.
Josh did most of the talking.
Donna listened and tapped her fingers on the table. Her expression was set and forbidding.
As much as it gave Holly the chills, she empathized with the woman. It didn’t look good from Donna’s angle. She braced for the worst.
“Hey.” Josh gave her one of his beautiful smiles as she walked into the kitchen. “I was explaining things to my mother.”
Holly’s mouth dried. “Oh?”
“Yes.” Donna’s eyes stopped just short of hostile. “I do not allow my sons to treat my home as party central.” She folded one hand over the other on the table. “I am not a prude, but I am also not running a motel. I was shocked to find you here.”
“I can imagine.” Her voice came out as a breathy whisper. Holly cleared her throat. Where the hell was her spine?
Josh gave her a small smile of encouragement. “I explained the situation, maman.”
“I understand; however, it is temporary, and there were circumstances that led to this point,” Donna said in a hard voice.
“I suggested my mother move into the condo for a day or two. Just until we can get things sorted out.”
Say what? Holly’s stomach twisted. “There is no need.” Kicking the woman out of her own house would put the final nail in her coffin. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I realize that.” Donna pursed her lips. “I don’t mind,” she said in a cold tone. “I like Josh’s condo; it is no hardship for me to stay there for a few days. I have not yet unpacked and it will suit me.”
“I don’t want to be responsible for ousting you from your own house.” Holly threw a pleading look at Josh.
“You’re not,” Donna said. “I have no problem with this and I am very sorry to hear of your troubles. The matter of the baby, however—it needs to be sorted out.”
“It will be, Ma.” Josh frowned at his mother.
“Before people start talking about it, Joshua.” Donna tapped her fingers on the table. “You have never had the best reputation with women. People will have no problem believing this is your baby and judging you accordingly.”
“Since when have you cared about gossip?” Josh stuck out his chin and crossed his arms. “Couples who aren’t married have babies together all the time.”
“No, Josh,” Holly said. Donna made a good point. “Your mother is right. You can’t have people saying you got a young girl pregnant and walked away from her.”
She nodded to Donna. “I’ll make sure Portia doesn’t spread her story around, and in the meantime, I’ll make sure we get her to accept the truth. It’s difficult, however. Portia can make up her own reality and live in it.”
“I see.” Donna shrugged her shoulder in a gesture marking her as French as clearly as a neon sign. “I do not like the situation, but I can understand your sister is very ill.” She turned back to her son. “What I do not understand is why you are in this up to your neck. Do you know how this could end?”
Josh’s face hardened and his cold, cold blue eyes blazed at his mother. “I’m in this because I chose to be.”
“Then you are a fool.” Donna slapped the table, and Holly jumped. “You could end up supporting a child that is not yours if you are not careful.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Holly said, appalled Donna would think so, but not entirely surprised.
“So you say.” Donna kept her eyes locked on her tall son.
Okay, then. She’d shut her mouth.
“Ma?” Josh’s voice was laced with dire warning.
Donna shook her head. “I did not raise you to be such an idiot.”
“Then you need to trust my judgment.”
Holly’s belly clenched tight as a drum. Should she say something? Or leave Josh to handle Donna? Her last attempt at an explanation hadn’t ended well.
The standoff between mother and son lasted a few moments longer.
Donna dropped her eyes first. She got quickly to her feet. “Drive me downtown.”
Josh nodded and grabbed his keys. His shoulders were tense as he stalked out of the room.
Donna followed him out. She paused in the doorway. “I wish you and your sisters well, Holly, but you will understand if I wish you well back in Ontario.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
It
was clearly a dismissal, and Holly left the kitchen as quickly as she could.
“Wow.” Emma lurked against the wall outside the kitchen door. “What a bitch.”
“She’s protective of her son.” God knows why she was defending the other woman. Holly nodded her head toward the top of the stairs. “How is she?”
“She’s okay.” Emma gestured to the closed door of Portia’s room. “It would help if she took the medication, but she won’t because of her pregnancy.”
“Did you know?” Holly wasn’t sure what difference it made, but it was suddenly important to hear Emma’s response. “Did you know she was pregnant?”
“She never said a word.” Emma’s gaze slid away from hers.
Anger surged through Holly. Emma was lying through her fucking teeth. And not even brave enough to look her in the eye while she did it. So quick to point the finger was Emma, and as quick to loudly proclaim her innocence. “But you suspected?”
“The cards said—”
“You knew, didn’t you?” She dared Emma to tell the truth for once. To stop hiding behind her New Age jargon and be honest. “You knew she was pregnant before she left London. You knew all of it and you said nothing.”
“I didn’t …”
Holly wanted to puke. She’d had it with Emma’s lies and her convenient rearranging of the truth. “And you must have known about the men.”
“What men?” Emma flushed bright red.
The stupid girl knew all right. Holly didn’t budge. She folded her arms over her chest and waited.
“She went out a lot, you know that,” Emma said. “She went alone because I don’t like to go out. She seemed like she was having a good time. It’s not my job to chaperone her.” Emma’s gaze darted around frantically. Looking anywhere but at Holly.
Holly kept staring, compelling Emma to look at her. “And you never said anything to me about any of this?” Emma had her head jammed in the sand. It would take surgery to remove it.
“Why should I?” Emma shifted her feet. “You never asked where we were going or who we were going with.”
“I trusted you.” And didn’t that make her as stupid as her sister? “I was trying to give you both some space.”