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A Pregnancy, a Party & a Proposal

Page 4

by Teresa Carpenter


  “I didn’t say no touching. Of course there will need to be public displays of affection. But you’re a master director, brilliant at evoking emotion. I’m sure you can manage with the minimum of physical contact.”

  “So PDAs are okay?” His gaze ran over her as his mind connected the dots. He was to keep his hands to himself in private. “So businesslike. I thought you were doing this as a friendly gesture. Why so strict?”

  How to answer that? The baby motivated her to help him, because she needed to maintain a position of power. But that wasn’t the only reason. Before she’d known about the baby she’d fought her desires because they turned her into someone she wasn’t. Reckless, abandoned, acquiescent.

  She’d subjugated her will to a man once before. It had changed who she was—a mistake she’d never make again.

  She considered telling him about the baby—just putting it out there. But, no. He was already dealing with a distressed grandmother. It wouldn’t be fair to drop the baby news on him, too.

  “I’ve put what was between us behind me. Yet there’s no denying the sexual chemistry between us.” She gave him the lesser truth. “I don’t want to jeopardize the progress I’ve made. This is a deal-breaker, Ray.”

  “Okay, you win.” He threw his hands up in surrender. “I promise to keep my hands to myself.”

  She knew she’d have to remind him of his pledge, but it would do for now.

  “When is our flight?”

  * * *

  The limousine pulled to a stop in front of Lauren’s home and Ray stepped out. He knew she co-owned the bungalow-style duplex along with her sister. The arrangement allowed the twins the proximity they enjoyed, yet gave each of them their privacy. Perfect for sisters who were both friends and partners, or so she’d told him.

  Of course that would all change now Tori had married Garrett. Would the twins keep the property and rent out Tori’s side? Or would they sell, leaving Lauren to find a new home?

  In a flash he saw her at his place, bringing order to his chaos, watching daily edits with him in the media room, claiming the gaming loft as her home office.

  He froze with his hand poised to knock.

  His head shook along with a full-body shudder. Must be residual fallout from the wedding. His overactive imagination tweaking on domestic bliss overload.

  He knocked. He still puzzled over why Lauren had changed her mind and agreed to accompany him to New York. Nothing really made sense except that family mattered to her.

  He’d seen that first-hand last Thanksgiving, when he’d learned that Garrett was spending the day alone, with nothing to occupy him but memories of his father’s passing and the shattering of his own body in a car accident the previous year.

  Of course Ray had invited his buddy over for Thanksgiving dinner, and then made an emergency call to Lauren to see if By Arrangement could pull off a miracle.

  She’d been about to sit down to dinner with her family, but had named a couple of restaurants he could try. He’d cut her off to invite her family to join him and Garrett. The home-cooked deal had appealed to Ray, and additional people would help to distract Garrett.

  And, of course, thinking of Thanksgiving brought back memories of their laundry room tryst.

  Luckily the front door opened, keeping him from remembering the details of their heated session on the washing machine.

  “Good morning.” Lauren came out, pulling a small suitcase. “Can you grab the garment bag?” She motioned to the blue bag hanging over the hall closet.

  He stepped inside and grabbed it. “Just the two bags?”

  “You don’t have to be sarcastic.” She glanced at her luggage with a frown. “I know it’s a lot for a week, but you didn’t mention anything except your grandmother’s birthday so I have to be prepared for anything.”

  “I wasn’t being sarcastic.” He handed her bag to the driver, who also took the roller bag, then held the back door for her. “If you’re prepared for anything I’m surprised you don’t have twice as many bags.”

  She gave a small smile and slid across the seat. Her jacket dragged on the seat behind her and he swept it out of the way as he slid in after her.

  “Is this your heaviest jacket?” He fingered the fleece-lined raincoat. “The forecast in Queens is for snow.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be fine.” She pulled the fabric free and tossed the coat over her purse on the other side of her.

  “Fine for Southern California is not the same as fine for New York. You’ll freeze if that’s all you take.” The car pulled away from the curb. “I’ll have the driver swing by Rodeo Drive.”

  He reached for the intercom. Her hand intercepted his, pushing it down.

  “Forget it. I’m not buying a coat I’ll only wear for a week.”

  She quickly retracted her touch. The woman did like her rules.

  “I brought sweaters and a warm scarf. I’ll be fine.”

  He snorted. “Let me know when you change your mind.”

  She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Why? So you can say, I told you so?”

  “So I can take you shopping.” He trained his gaze on the muted TV monitor across the way. “The I told you so will be strictly implied.”

  Out of the corner of his eye he caught her grin. He relaxed back into his seat. The trip might not be the total cluster bash he feared.

  “Please. Hold your breath,” she advised, all sweetness and light.

  He turned to address her sass, only to stop when she pressed a hand to her stomach. A glance at her face revealed she’d lost all the color in her cheeks. Concern tightened his chest.

  “Lauren, what is it?”

  She sat very still, slowly drawing in a deep breath. “I wasn’t ready for that last turn. It sent my stomach spinning.”

  “What can I do?”

  “Can you lower the partition?” She swallowed repeatedly. “I think it will help if I can see where we’re going.”

  He picked up the remote and did as she’d asked. The additional light showed her color was returning. “If you’re not feeling well we can delay our flight for a day.”

  “That won’t be necessary.” She dug in her purse and pulled out a dry protein bar. “I should have eaten something earlier. I’ll be all right once I have a couple of bites.” She looked at him oddly. “You’re awfully cavalier about our departure time.”

  “It’s not a commercial flight. I called a friend and he’s agreed to lend me his jet. Barring emergencies, it’s at my disposal for the next week.”

  “Must be nice.” She closed her eyes and leaned her head back as she chewed. Her hand lingered over her stomach.

  “Rest.” He ran a knuckle down her cheek. “I’ll let you know when we get to the airport.”

  Instead of flinching away, she leaned into his touch. After another sweep of her silky skin he left her to rest. He took heart from the exchange. If she could take comfort from him, the connection between them wasn’t entirely extinguished.

  Strong enough, he hoped, to convince his family for a week.

  And maybe to allow for one more hook-up?

  Because Lauren might see them as over, but he wasn’t doing well with the whole cold turkey approach. He watched the soft rise and fall of her breasts and struggled with the desire to pull her into his arms.

  No, his feelings about their relationship didn’t match hers at all. Sure, he believed in keeping things short and light, but he usually called the where and when.

  And when he looked at her he saw unfinished business.

  CHAPTER THREE

  LAUREN ACCEPTED RAY’S suggestion to rest as an opportunity to avoid conversation for the rest of their trip to the airport. She shrugged out of the brown cropped jacket she wore over a cream sweater and jeans, then settled back ag
ainst the seat and watched the road through the veil of her lashes.

  Thank goodness seeing where they were headed had helped to calm her queasy stomach.

  One thing was for certain. She needed to get this morning sickness under control or she’d be making explanations before she was ready. Ray was too intelligent not to put the pieces together with them living in each other’s pockets.

  And then there was his grandmother, aunt and cousin. Hopefully they’d be too caught up in Ray’s visit and Mamó’s birthday to pay much attention to her.

  At the airport they departed from the commuter terminal. Expedited VIP service streamlined their boarding process and within minutes she climbed the steps to a mid-sized jet. The scent of fine leather hit her as soon as she entered the plane. Fortunately the baby had no objection to the smell.

  Lauren made her way down the aisle between half a dozen armchair-style seats in creamy beige. The second half of the cabin contained two face-to-face couches of the same color in a soft ultra-suede fabric. At the end a door stood open on a full-sized restroom.

  Just wow. This was totally going to spoil her for flying coach.

  Pretending a sophistication she didn’t feel, she turned to Ray. “Where do I sit?”

  “Wherever you want.” He indicated two armchairs facing each other. “Why don’t we start here? I asked the attendant to bring you some tea once we’re in the air. She’ll also bring you something to eat. Do you want eggs and bacon? Bagels or muffins? Fruit?”

  “I don’t care for anything right now.” She sank into the chair next to the window.

  “A few bites of protein bar aren’t much,” he protested. “You need something more.”

  “Welcome aboard.” The attendant, an attractive brunette in a gray pantsuit, appeared at her elbow. “My name is Julie. I’ll be serving you today. If you need anything you can call me via the remote, or just push this button.” She showed Lauren on her armrest. “I’ll bring tea when we’ve reached cruising altitude. What more would you like?”

  “Nothing for—”

  “Thank you, Julie.” Ray cut Lauren off. “Please bring a selection of bagels, fruit, and yogurt.”

  Lauren slammed him with a glare at his arrogant disregard for her wishes. She should know if she was hungry.

  “May I take your things?” Julie offered. “There’s a closet at the front of the cabin. You’ll have full access during the flight.”

  Lauren handed off her purse and coat. She waited until the other woman had disappeared before addressing Ray.

  “If you hope to get along on this trip you will refrain from treating me like a child.”

  “Then don’t behave like one.”

  His gaze roved over her. She felt the weight of it everywhere it touched.

  “You’re still pale. Food helped in the car. I can only assume it would be better if you had something more. It would please me if you ate. But the choice is yours.”

  She gritted her teeth. To argue further would only make her sound petty.

  Luckily the pilot’s voice filled the cabin. “Please fasten your seatbelts. We’ll be departing momentarily.”

  Avoiding Ray’s gaze, she glanced out the window as the plane began to move. His reasonableness did nothing to appease her. In fact it only annoyed her, putting her in the position of being unreasonable—an intolerable situation, which was totally his fault.

  It would please him if she ate? Seriously?

  Right this minute she felt fine. She hoped to stay that way through takeoff. And the thought of food...? Not helping.

  As a view of the airport, planes, and air traffic personnel flowed by the porthole window she marveled once again at her current circumstances. The only explanation she could come up with was she must have royally ticked off Lady Karma in another life, because she should not be pregnant.

  She’d started on the pill. Ray had worn condoms. Yeah, they’d been frantic for each other, but they’d also been responsible. Okay, there had been that once when the condom broke. Yet—hello?—still on the pill. Sure, her doctor had warned her that it took time for the body to adjust, but it had been a month. Well, almost.

  The force of takeoff pushed her back in her seat as the plane began to rise. Her fingers curled into fists on the armrests, her nails digging into the soft leather. She closed her eyes, willed her stomach to behave.

  “Are you okay?”

  Ray’s voice sounded next to her ear at the same time as a warm hand settled over her clenched fingers.

  Her eyes flew open. When had he moved next to her?

  More to the point, when had his touch become an instant soother?

  It had to be the distraction, her logical mind asserted, but she didn’t care. She turned her hand over, threaded her fingers through his and accepted the warmth and comfort he freely offered.

  Tension eased away, taking the rising nausea with it.

  “Thank you.” She gave him a feeble smile.

  “Nervous flyer?” he sympathized.

  “Mmm...” She made a noncommittal sound. Poor guy. Her hormones were all over the place, her emotions likewise. Talk about mixed signals. She didn’t know how she felt—how could he begin to guess?

  “Not usually.” She made an effort to participate in the conversation, hoping the resulting distraction would continue to work on her mind and stomach. “I guess I’m nervous about the whole trip. We haven’t truly discussed how we’re going to handle things. I’m not comfortable lying to your grandmother.”

  “Me neither,” he said. “So we don’t lie.”

  Eying his stoic expression, she felt the muscles in her shoulders begin to tense again. “If you’re suggesting—”

  “I’m not.” He squeezed her fingers. “We’re friends. At least I hope you consider me a friend. That’s what we put out there.”

  Because his touch felt too good, she pulled her hand free of his. On another level she noticed the plane had leveled out. “But everyone has an expectation there’s more between us.”

  “Exactly. We’ll just be ourselves and they’ll see what they want to see.”

  She tapped her fingers on the armrest as she considered his approach. “Still seems a little artificial.”

  “The power of illusion comes from a collective awareness. People believe what they want to believe. Directors use viewer expectations as a tool to manipulate the audience’s emotions all the time. It doesn’t make what they feel any less real.”

  “Do you hear the words you’re using? Manipulate...audience. This is your family we’re talking about, not a theater full of moviegoers.”

  She understood the concept he presented, and, yes, she expected it would work as well as he stated. The truth worked for her. Leaving his family with preconceived notions that went well beyond reality was more iffy.

  “Look.” His gaze earnest, he picked up her hand, swept his thumb over the pulse at her wrist. “I know the girlfriend front isn’t ideal. Ordinarily I wouldn’t even consider it. But you have no idea how upset my grandmother sounded.” Concern darkened his eyes to a soft azure. “If this plan lifts her spirits, it’s worth a little discomfort on my part.”

  “Okay,” she agreed. And again removed her hand from under his. Bottom line: his concern was genuine. And, if she were honest, it wasn’t as if she and Tori hadn’t occasionally manufactured events to gain their mother’s cooperation to get something they wanted.

  His family—his call. She’d agreed to come, so she’d do as he wished.

  “Teatime.”

  Julie had arrived with a cart. She reached past them to pull a table from a wall slot, trapping Lauren next to Ray. The sudden intimacy suffocated her. She wanted to protest. Of course she didn’t.

  She was too strong to give in to weakness, too smart to reveal it to the opposition.r />
  Onto the table Julie slid a tray, artfully displaying an array of bagels, both toasted and non-toasted, along with a healthy heaping of cream cheese, butter, and jellies. There were containers of yogurt and a lovely selection of fresh fruit. Next came steaming pots of hot water and a small basket of teas.

  A midsized plate and linen-wrapped silverware were placed in front of each of them. “May I serve you?” Julie asked.

  “We’ll help ourselves, thank you.” Ray’s charming smile caused the poised woman to blush.

  “Please buzz me if you require anything more,” she bade them, and then disappeared to her niche in the front of the plane.

  Lauren waited for her stomach to revolt. When it didn’t she reached for the basket of teas, chose a soothing decaffeinated blend and steeped it in one of the pots. When it looked the right color, she poured the brew into a delicate teacup.

  Ray slathered cream cheese on a cinnamon bagel and slid melon, pineapple chunks and a few blackberries on his plate.

  “Can I fix you anything?” he asked, after she’d taken her first sip.

  “Perhaps half a plain bagel, with a light spread of cream cheese.”

  He nodded and a moment later placed it on her plate. She cut it into quarters and picked up a corner to nibble on.

  “You know, I’m all for sticking to the truth and all...” She set her cup back in its saucer. “But the details are still going to be a bit sketchy. You do realize we’ve never been on an actual date?” She stabbed at a plump berry on his plate and ate it.

  His eyes narrowed in thought. He reached for a carton of peach yogurt, opened it and scooped in a few berries. He took a couple of bites before pointing his spoon at her.

  “We’ve kept a low profile.”

  Her brows lifted. “You’re a little too good at this.”

  He grinned and offered her the yogurt carton. “I’m a director. It’s my job to invent and interpret.”

  “Convenient.” Not even thinking about it, she accepted the yogurt.

  The flavors, peach and blackberry, exploded in her mouth. A few more bites finished it off. She sighed. A glance at her plate revealed he’d gotten his wish. She’d eaten all her bagel plus fruit and his yogurt. And she felt great. More energized than she had in forever.

 

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