by Susan Meier
* * *
Avery stepped out of the fitting room and onto the platform in front of the three mirrors designed to show her how the dress flowed from every angle.
She frowned, then glanced back at Jake’s mom. “It looks like a wedding dress.”
Maureen smiled. “It does. Isn’t it lovely? And aren’t you lovely?”
Avery laughed. She wouldn’t call out Maureen, but she saw what was going on. “I’m attending a ball, not my wedding.” She turned to the sales clerk. “Do you have something in a creamy, peach or coral color?”
“Of course.”
The sales girl scampered away, and Maureen clapped her hands together. “I’ll bet peach looks absolutely gorgeous on you with your red hair.”
Avery stepped down off the platform. “If we get the right shade, it’s my best color.”
Maureen rose. “Do you need help getting out of that?”
“No. I’m fine.” She turned to go into the dressing room, but paused and looked at herself in the mirror one more time. “It is pretty, though, isn’t it?”
“You’re going to make somebody a beautiful bride.”
“Maybe.” She took in the elegant white gown one more time. “But probably not.”
“Oh, sweetie! Don’t say that!”
“I’m committed to my work, Maureen. And the baby.” She laid her hand on her stomach. “Not sure there’s going to be enough time left for a man or a marriage.”
Maureen picked up the back of the white gown and followed Avery into the fitting room. “I’ve found that in life people make time for the things that are important.”
“You sound like my mom.”
“That’s because older ladies are very smart. We have a handbook.”
Avery burst out laughing.
Maureen tugged down the zipper of the dress, then slipped out of the small room.
After the door closed behind her, Avery took off the gown. She was wrestling it back onto the hanger when the sales clerk returned with two wonderful peach-colored dresses.
She looked at the first and said, “Let’s try this one.” The off-the-shoulder style and crisscross beading on the bodice would draw everyone’s eye to her top, not her belly. Plus, the skirt of the gown was loose enough that it wouldn’t hug her baby bump, but not so loose that it belled out. The chiffon fabric simply flowed from her waist to the floor.
The sales clerk helped her into the dress. When Avery saw herself in the mirror, she knew there was no need to try on the second one. Maureen agreed. A few minor alterations were required to the top, and the sales clerk arranged to have the gown nipped and tucked and shipped to Avery’s hotel that afternoon.
When they stepped out into the sunshine, Maureen breathed deeply. “That was fun. We should do it again. Maybe shop for baby clothes together.”
Avery said, “Sure.” Mostly because she’d be unemployed in New York until the baby was born. It was an easy way for Maureen to be involved and a great way for Avery to supervise what she bought.
They headed to the waiting limo, but Maureen stopped abruptly. “You said you don’t know the baby’s sex, but I think we should find out. It’ll make everything easier. Especially for people who want to buy gifts.” She gasped. “And the nursery.”
The driver opened the limo door. As she climbed in, Avery said, “I don’t want to know the baby’s sex until it’s born. I want the surprise. I’d planned on making the nursery navy blue and gray, then adding a splash of pink or light blue depending on the sex of the baby.”
Maureen nodded. “I like it.”
“You’re not upset about not knowing the sex of the baby before it’s born?”
She considered that. “It would make things easier, but I’m trying to decide if I like being able to buy the right clothes or if the excitement of finding out the baby’s sex at the hospital will be more fun.”
The driver got into the limo and pulled out into the street.
Avery said, “I like the old-fashioned way.”
“Really? You seem like such a modern girl.”
“I am. Sometimes I even get a little too far out with my thinking. But my parents are very down-to-earth. They keep me grounded.”
“Interesting. Jake’s down-to-earth too. I remember something my dad used to say about opposites being good for each other. Something about balance. Anyway, Tom and I were opposites. He kept me from flying off to the moon and I kept him from being too hard on the kids.”
Avery had to fight to stop a gasp. Her husband had been extremely hard on his sons. He’d hidden that from Maureen, but it wasn’t Avery’s place to tell her. She hadn’t made a commitment to Jake not to tell his mom—or anyone—any of the things he’d told her about his father. He hadn’t asked her to keep a secret, but in her heart, she suddenly realized that he’d trusted that she would.
He’d trusted her with probably the biggest secret of his life.
Maureen walked her into the lobby of her hotel and after a quick kiss on the cheek, Avery rode up the elevator and ambled back the hall to their suite.
When she opened the door, Jake spun away from the window to face her. His cheeks bore the black stubble of a day’s growth of beard. His hair was a mess. If his room hadn’t been dead silent that morning as she’d eaten breakfast, she’d think he hadn’t slept.
Their gazes caught. The warmth of familiarity washed through her. She’d learned more about this guy, the father of her child, in the past twenty-four hours than she had in three weeks of dating—three weeks of sex without intimacy.
Awkwardness filled the room. He’d shown her Paris. Made her laugh. Told her a secret that she’d vowed not to share without once ever saying a word. Now he looked like he’d been through a war.
“I found my dress.”
“Good.”
She pointed at her bedroom, a room of safety where she could think some of this through. “If you don’t mind, I’m getting used to having a nap every day.”
He laughed. “Go ahead. I’ve got some work I need to do.” He paused. “If I can use your laptop again?”
Grateful that he’d be busy, she said, “Sure,” ran into her bedroom, retrieved the laptop and handed it to him.
“Not going to set it to my screen name?”
“No.” She caught his gaze. “I trust you.”
That was the whole hell of it. She did.
He trusted her. She trusted him.
What had Paris done to them?
CHAPTER EIGHT
AVERY DIDN’T COME out of her bedroom all afternoon. Around six o’clock, Jake walked over to knock on her door to make sure she was okay, but a bad feeling swirled through him when he raised his hand to the white wood. He was concerned about her, but she was clearly avoiding him.
Did he really want to interrupt her when she didn’t want to see him? Since they’d arrived in Paris, he’d been sensing a connection forming, but what if she hadn’t?
What if he’d told her his biggest secret, relaxed with her, made jokes with her, when she’d been cringing inside, wishing she was home?
Chastising himself for making a big deal out of her avoiding him when not talking was their normal routine, he returned to his room, showered and dressed in the tux he’d brought for the ball. They weren’t friends or lovers or anything anymore. He’d thought getting to know each other would make things easier. It appeared she didn’t. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d misinterpreted her. So, he would let her alone.
He exited his quarters to find her standing in the sitting room, staring out the large window with a fabulous view of the city.
Turning to face him, she quietly said, “I’m sorry I needed a little time this afternoon. I don’t want you to think I didn’t appreciate your generosity. I have never enjoyed two days as much as I have these past two. Thank you for giving me a chan
ce to see the city.”
He tried to say, You’re welcome, but nothing came out. She’d shocked him. He might have opened up to her, but the only time she’d told him anything personal was when she’d negotiated about her dad. But more than that, she looked amazing, so striking, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.
When he found his voice, he said, “You’re welcome.” He waited a beat, then couldn’t hold it in any longer. “You are so beautiful.”
She glanced away and began fussing with the wrap she’d brought out, unfolding it so she could slide it over her shoulders. “Thank you.” She met his gaze. “Your mother paid for this, but I intend to send her a check.”
He could have argued. He could have laughed at her thinking his mother would actually cash a check when she’d meant the gown as a gift. Instead, he realized Avery was diverting his attention away from the compliment.
Something primal and male rose up in him. If he wanted to tell her she was beautiful, if he wanted to dwell on that all evening, there was nothing she could do to stop him.
“You are beautiful, you know.”
She shook her head. “You’ve told me that a million times.”
“In bed,” he agreed. “This is different.”
“So, before this, you didn’t think I was beautiful with clothes on?”
He laughed. “Deflect all you want.” She’d never been uncomfortable with him telling her she was beautiful. Their association back then had been light, careless. Today’s compliment was personal. And whether she wanted to admit it or not, it pleased her.
“You’re not going to stop my good mood tonight. I’m about to attend a party with probably the most attractive woman in the city. I intend to have fun.” He motioned to the door. “Limo’s waiting.”
They walked down the hall without saying a word. Rode the elevator in silence. Traversed the lobby like two strangers, but when they got outside, into the music of the city, he took her hand.
As the driver opened the limo door, she wiggled her hand away before sliding onto the seat. He slid in beside her.
“So, you don’t have any idea what to expect tonight.”
He said no, and for once that didn’t set his nerve endings on fire. He wasn’t worried about his mom, thinking about the people he would meet—
He felt like dancing. The day had been a constant series of ups and downs, but having told her about his dad and having her tell him she’d enjoyed the day, he felt lighter. It was confusing and weird, but he liked it. He liked this strange feeling that for once in his life he could completely relax.
“We’re just going to wing it?”
“Yes.” He paused to glance at her. “I thought you would like that?”
“It’ll be fine.”
They didn’t say anything else on the way to the hotel. He guided her toward the ballroom with one hand on her elbow and she didn’t yank herself away. He considered that a win.
His mother met them two steps before they entered and walked with them through the receiving line, introducing him to heads of charities that benefited from his donation and he accepted their thanks.
Attempting to find their table, he was stopped by friends of his parents and more people on the boards of the charities who wanted to meet him.
By the time they got dinner, he was starving. He ate with gusto, then eyed the food on Avery’s plate.
“Going to eat those potatoes?”
She turned to gape at him. “Who are you and what have you done with Jake McCallan?”
He laughed. “I’m just in a weird mood.”
“Well, it’s freaking me out.”
“Why? We’re in a city that’s thousands of miles away from our home. You think you lost your job. I’m still reeling from discovering I’m about to be a dad.” He almost told her that he’d been getting warm, fuzzy feelings about her all day, and decided that would make things weirder. “Why don’t we just let go tonight?”
“You mean for once? Because I can’t imagine you’ve ever let go before this.”
“How do you know?”
“You’re really bad at it.”
“How can a person be bad at letting go?”
“You have tells. For most people spontaneity happens...” She paused and finally said, “Well, spontaneously. I can see you thinking things through.”
He almost pondered that but suddenly saw that was her point. “I’ll get this.”
She rolled her eyes. “I doubt it.”
“You’re also not eating your potatoes.” He took her plate and exchanged it for his. “If I’m dancing, I’ll need the carbs.”
She laughed.
* * *
Damn it! He’d made her laugh again.
He finished her potatoes with lightning speed, then had two glasses of champagne while the directors of the boards of the charities made speeches thanking employees, volunteers and most of all, donors.
There was a ten-minute pause that felt like an intermission while waiters discreetly cleared tables and guests mingled. Then the band started to play.
He held out his hand. “Shall we?”
She almost told him no, but he looked so eager, she couldn’t resist. “Sure. Why not?”
The song was a waltz. Calm. Normal. No worries about his exuberance causing a scene. In fact, he was a flawless dancer. But with his hand on her waist and her hand on his shoulder, familiar longings trickled through her. His scent brought back memories of being together. She yearned to inhale deeply, stand on her tiptoes and kiss him until he ran his hands up and down her spine—
She shook her head to clear it of that thought. Knowing she had to put her mind elsewhere, she said, “I see somebody took dance lessons.”
“Yes.”
He twirled them around the floor and the romance of the move almost had her swooning. He was tall, dark, handsome and she’d touched him, tasted him—
Oh, Lord. She had to get her mind off that.
“Sorry about thinking you were crazy back at the table.”
“That’s all right. I understand.”
“You understand why I’d think you were a bit nutty or you understand why I’d feel that way?”
“There’s a difference?”
“There’s always a difference.”
“And the lawyer is back.”
The music stopped. Eager to get away from him, to stop touching him, remembering things best left alone, she stepped away. “There’s nothing wrong with being precise.”
“And you call me stuffy.”
“Usually you are stuffy.”
“But tonight, you’re stuffy.”
She wasn’t about to tell him she was fighting an attraction that was driving her crazy. She’d blame pregnancy hormones except this feeling was more about remembering. And maybe making a connection. The nice guy, the fun guy she’d spent the day with had also been her wonderful lover.
Obviously in deference to the older crowd, the band began to play the music for a jitterbug, something she only knew because of her grandparents.
Jake caught her hands and swung them to the left, then the right, and spun her around so fast she blinked.
“What are you doing!”
“We’re dancing, remember?”
“Again?” She suddenly got it. Their bodies were brushing, causing memories of making love with stuffy Jake to mingle with the reality of dancing with fun Jake. And drive her to distraction. Which meant the easy answer was to stop touching. Stop dancing. “This is a grandpa song.”
“I had lessons, remember?”
“And I only know as much about this dance as I can recall from dancing with my grandfather when I was five!”
“Piece of cake for you. I’m the one who leads. You just follow.”
Despite her protests, they danced a jitterbug li
vely enough to get a round of applause and a few kudos from their fellow dancers.
When they returned to their table, Maureen bounced out of her chair and helped Avery to sit.
“What is wrong with you? You’re the one who said she’d be tired, and instead of taking her home you dance her to death!”
Jake laughed. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m just...” He paused. “...in a weird mood.”
Maureen produced a glass of apple juice. “Well, no more dancing.”
Avery glanced at Jake. She was glad to be away from the memories touching him evoked, but he looked happy. Totally relaxed. For the first time ever.
She suddenly felt guilty for letting her hormones get the better of her. The guy had had a miserable childhood. She’d had a blissful one, even if her teen years had gone bad. But in spite of that, she’d always had the love of family. His father had tortured him. Surely, she could stop her reactions and let him enjoy the evening.
“It’s okay. I could probably dance to another song or two.”
Annalise grinned. “Or I could dance with you, Jake.”
The woman had to be thirty years older than Jake if she was a day. Though Avery wasn’t jealous, per se, she didn’t want him dancing with Annalise. If he was going to be happy, relaxed, it was going to be because of her—
Her heart stuttered.
Hormones and chemistry were one thing. This feeling was quite another.
She took a sip of her apple juice, fanned herself.
Jake snapped to attention. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine.” She wasn’t. The feeling of familiarity that had scared her so much that afternoon had joined with their sexual chemistry and morphed into joy at being with him.
But only because he was behaving differently. Silly. Funny. Maybe he was happy to be with her too?
Oh, Lord. She couldn’t think that way. She couldn’t like him. Well, she already did like him. But she couldn’t like him.
That would only cause complications over custody and visits after the baby was born.
So no. No liking him. No romance.
* * *
Jake knew the second Avery changed. The air around them grew strained again.