The Misconception

by Gardner, Darlene

  Instead of the impeccably tailored suits in which he looked oh-so-fine, he was wearing well-fitting khaki pants and a chocolate-colored polo shirt that hugged his eye-popping pectoral muscles and the spectacular broadness of his shoulders. The color also brought out his melting brown eyes and the wind-tousled disarray of his chocolate-colored hair.

  The part of her still programmed to react like her evolutionary foremothers longed to take a bite of him. Or, better still, to cover herself in chocolate.

  Fortunately, the modern-day portion of her brain switched on before she could do something incredibly stupid, like lick him. Jax showing up unannounced at her townhouse was bad news. Very bad news.

  “What are you doing here?” Marietta demanded.

  “It’s nice to see you, too,” Jax said. “How’s the nausea? Getting any better? I heard it helps to eat complex carbohydrates like buckwheat groats. You ever try buckwheat groats?”

  Marietta didn’t answer. Her stomach, which still wasn’t over the horror of ingesting bean curds, was trembling. Never mind that she’d never heard of a buckwheat groat. The sound of it alone was scary enough.

  “No?” Jax continued. “I’ll pick up some for you next time I go to the grocery store.”

  He gave her a good-natured grin before following her sister down a hallway leading to the kitchen. Marietta’s taste buds immediately rebelled. Considering his dreadful culinary taste, she shouldn’t let him anywhere near her kitchen. Who knew what ideas he’d get while he was in there.

  “Just where do you think you’re going?” She trailed after him, feeling the situation spiral out of control like a top teetering close to the edge of a table. What was he doing here in the first place?

  “Tracy’s getting me something cold to drink,” Jax said.

  “Wait just a minute.” With an act of supreme will, Marietta pulled back from the edge and stopped the top from spinning. She lifted her chin and put her poise back in place. “You can’t just come into my home and invade my kitchen.”

  Since they’d already entered the kitchen, his very presence mocked her words. He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest, calling attention to his well-developed pecs. She clenched her teeth against the oh-so-predictable surge of attraction he unleashed.

  “Sure I can,” he said. “Tracy invited me.”

  Marietta swung her gaze to her sister, thankful she had an excuse to look at something other than Jax’s chest. “Tracy? Is that true? Did you invite him?”

  Tracy took a glass out of the cupboard and placed it next to the pitcher she’d already removed from the refrigerator. “Of course I invited him. He’s the father of your baby.”

  “There’s more to being a father than supplying sperm,” Marietta snapped.

  “Which is why I’m here,” Jax interjected, as though that explained anything. Before she could demand more answers, he turned to her sister. “So are you meeting your husband tonight, Tracy?”

  Her sister’s hand jerked, and the iced tea she was pouring missed the cup and spilled over the counter. Marietta’s jaw clenched. If the mere mention of the man rattled her sister like that, being in his presence could cause her irreparable harm. Ryan had already broken Tracy’s heart once.

  “Ryan’s not Tracy’s husband anymore,” Marietta said as she retrieved a miniature sponge from behind the sink. Tracy took it from her and mopped up the spill.

  “Actually, yes, he still is my husband.” Tracy’s head was down, as though she were concentrating hard on sopping up the iced tea from the counter, but her voice didn’t have any oomph behind it. “Our divorce isn’t final yet.”

  “But it will be soon if you stay away from him, Tracy,” Marietta said. “You have to remember how he hurt you. You can’t give him a chance to do it again.”

  She was tangentially aware of Jax coming deeper into the kitchen and filling his glass the rest of the way with iced tea. He took a swallow of the cool liquid. “Don’t you think that’s Tracy’s decision to make?” he asked.

  Marietta took a moment to glare at him, but it was Tracy’s pinched, unhappy face that demanded her attention. Her sister could be on the verge of making a huge, hurtful mistake. She’d deal with Jax later.

  “Ryan said something about a Black Eyed Peas concert,” Marietta said gently. The last thing she wanted was to put her sister on the defensive, but she needed the facts if she were going to help her. “Did you go to a concert with him?”

  “Not with him.” Tracy hugged herself, looking miserable. “He gave me a ticket, and I went. We didn’t even sit together.”

  Marietta let out a breath. This was worse than she first thought. Tracy wasn’t on the verge of letting Ryan back into her life. She’d already done it. If only Tracy had been more practical from the start, instead of imagining what she felt for Ryan was everlasting love. “I don’t think—”

  “I love the Black Eyed Peas,” Jax interrupted, figuring it was time he changed the subject. Marietta clearly didn’t understand that Tracy’s feelings about Ryan Caminetti were something she needed to work out on her own. “In fact, I love music. But, wouldn’t you know it, I can’t sing at all. By the way, do you know how you can tell if someone’s musical?”

  Both women looked at him blankly, but he didn’t let that bother him. This was a stressful time in both of their lives. They needed levity. Fortunately, he was excellent at providing that.

  “By the chords in their neck.” Neither of them smiled, but continued to stare at him with empty looks. “Get it? Musical chords? Cords of muscle? It’s a play on words.”

  In normal circumstance, the punch line was funny enough to crack up anybody within hearing range and make them forget what they’d been talking about. These apparently weren’t normal circumstances. Marietta turned from him to Tracy, continuing where she’d left off.

  “I don’t think you should go anywhere near Ryan, Tracy,” she said. “You know what a slick talker he is. Why, he could talk a turtle into crawling out of its shell.”

  “Ryan’s not trying to talk me into anything,” Tracy said.

  Marietta started to respond, but Jax interrupted. Tracy had been nothing but kind to him since they’d met, even recommending the name of a Realtor after answering one of his repeated calls to Marietta. He owed her.

  “Sounds to me like this is between Tracy and her husband, Marietta,” Jax said. “It really isn’t any of your business.”

  “None of my business? I’m her sister. I love her. It’s none of your business.” Color flooded Marietta’s face. “You shouldn’t even be here. I made it perfectly clear I didn’t want to see you again, so what are you doing here?”

  Her arrogant assumption that she could brush off the father of her child as though he were a piece of lint irked him. So much so that he was going to enjoy dropping the verbal bomb he held. “I’d call it getting to know my neighbors better.”

  “What are you talking about? We’re not your neighbors,” Marietta said at the same time that a crash, followed by a muffled curse, sounded outside her front door.

  Jax winced. “I sure hope that wasn’t my stereo system. You how much I like music. Of course, it’d be worse for the moving man if that was one of my barbells.”

  Horror bloomed in Marietta’s eyes, but Jax hardened himself against it. Considering she was carrying his baby, she’d have to get over that. Babies, even unborn ones, thrived on tranquility, not horror.

  “What exactly are you trying to say?” she asked.

  “Hi, neighbor.”

  Marietta covered her face with hands that shook. “This can’t be happening. Please somebody tell me this isn’t happening. How can this be happening?”

  “Simple. The last time I was in town, I noticed the place next door was for sale. Tracy recommended a Realtor. He called the owner, told him my offer and, voila, I had a townhouse. We don’t close for another couple of weeks, but he’s letting me move in ahead of time.”

  “Tracy?” Marietta gazed at
her sister with huge, betrayed eyes and sank into one of her kitchen chairs. “How could you do this to me?”

  “Maybe I did it for you, Mari,” Tracy said, backing out of the kitchen. As she passed Jax, she patted his shoulder in what felt like a gesture of support. “I’m going to run some errands. What you have to talk about doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

  “Don’t be angry at Tracy, Marietta,” Jax said the moment the younger woman was out of earshot. “I would have bought the townhouse even if she hadn’t recommended a Realtor. All she did was have the courtesy not to hang up when I called, which is more than I can say for you.”

  Marietta didn’t reply for a long moment, giving Jax an opportunity to study her. Instead of one of her customary tent dresses, she wore an unstructured shirt and slacks every bit as ugly as the tents. They were also black, a color that bleached her already pale skin and highlighted the dark smudges under her eyes. She’d secured her hair so firmly to the back of her head it looked like rubber balls could bounce off her taut temples.

  If the timing had been different, Jax would have talked her into engaging in horizontal rapture. He might as well derive some pleasure from the predicament she’d thrust him in, even if, judging from the set of her jaw, the next few minutes wouldn’t be particularly pleasant.

  “Why are you doing this?” Marietta asked.

  He gave a short laugh. “What did you think I was going to do after that little stunt you pulled on ‘Meet the Scientists?’”

  “You saw that?”

  “Of course. You were so excited about going on the program that I wouldn’t have missed it.”

  “Tell me something.” She screwed up her forehead as though the answer really mattered. “Did you notice anything untoward about the way I looked, especially at the end of the show?”

  An image of her avocado-like face came back to him, and he realized she was asking if her nausea were obvious. He nearly told her that only somebody with a black-and-white television could have missed the green hue of her skin, but he didn’t see what purpose that would serve. Especially since she’d managed to convey her ridiculous beliefs quite succinctly.

  “You looked fine,” he said.

  “You didn’t think I looked, well, sick?”

  “If you’re talking about morning sickness, it’s a perfectly natural reaction. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I’ve been reading up on pregnancy, and nearly half of all pregnant women have morning sickness.” Jax expected Marietta to interrupt him, but she didn’t, which encouraged him to go on. “Just hang in there. It’s supposed to go away after the third month, which means you’re about there.”

  “You’ve been reading up on pregnancy? Why?”

  He shook his head at the question. “Because you’re pregnant, that’s why.”

  “But my pregnancy has nothing to do with you.”

  “It has everything to do with me, which, in case you haven’t been paying attention, is why I’m here,” Jax said. “If you had listened to anything I said the last time I was here, you would have known that. You certainly wouldn’t have gone on television spouting that Motherhood Without Males mumbo-jumbo.”

  “It isn’t mumbo-jumbo. It’s a well-thought out response to the realities of evolutionary biology and the strides today’s professional women have made.”

  “It’s mumbo-jumbo. What would you say if I got on television and jabbered on about Fatherhood Without Females?”

  “That’s impossible. You can’t have one without the other.”

  “Which is exactly my point about Motherhood Without Males.”

  “Then you weren’t listening very closely to what I said on the show.” Her multi-colored eyes narrowed. “A mother does not need a father in order to raise her child.”

  “When it’s my child, she does. You should have thought about that before you picked me to father yours.”

  “I didn’t pick you. You. . . you. . .” Her face grew red as she tried to come up with the right word. “. . . infiltrated my womb.”

  The assertion was so ridiculous that Jax couldn’t help smiling. She obviously hadn’t considered the way she’d disrupted his life with a pregnancy that was, to him, completely unplanned.

  Hell, she probably even thought he wanted to marry her when all he wanted was to provide his child with the best possible atmosphere in which to grow up. If she came as part of the package, so be it.

  “If you think I’ve infiltrated your womb, wait’ll you see what I do with your life.”

  “What do you mean by that?” she asked with a show of bravado, but the tremor in her voice betrayed her.

  “You’re the one with the high IQ. You figure it out.”

  He turned and walked out of her townhouse, but not before he caught a glimpse of her stricken face. Damn it all if he didn’t feel sorry for making her look that way.

  Chapter 14

  Her heart beating hard, Tracy Dalrymple Caminetti slipped out of the front door of the townhouse and pulled it shut very gently behind her.

  Even though Marietta was still at Kennedy College and wouldn’t be home until much later, Tracy felt more like a sneaky teenager trying to pull one over than a twenty-five-year-old woman heading out to meet friends at Paddy’s Pub.

  She smoothed down the skirt of her clingy red dress, the one that had never failed to make Ryan bug-eyed, and noticed that her hands were shaking as much as her heart.

  A part of her very much feared that Marietta was right and having any contact with Ryan was like inviting him to unclasp the safety pins that barely held her together. But the alternative — to never see him again — was worse.

  Marietta kept a wrought-iron chair on the townhouse’s tiny porch, which Tracy had long thought looked about as comfortable as a porcupine’s lap. Tonight, Tracy sank into it, heedless of comfort, thinking only of whether she was doing the right thing by going to Paddy’s.

  The pub was in neighboring Arlington, just a few miles from the charming little house she’d once happily shared with Ryan. He still lived there and still met with their friends at Paddy’s while she’d left that world behind. Should she risk going back, even if only for a night?

  At least, this way, on the fringes of Ryan’s life, she’d be able to satisfy the constant thirst she had to drink in the sight of him. She bit her lip so hard she almost cried out, because the craving she had for Ryan no longer seemed reciprocal.

  That day in the beauty salon, when she’d given him the world’s worst haircut, she thought his passion for her might have survived their split. When their eyes met in the mirror, she felt as though she’d been zapped by lightning. She’d spent the week leading up to the Black Eyed Peas concert trying to figure out what to say when he asked her to take him back.

  Not only hadn’t he asked, he hadn’t even taken the seat next to her at the concert. He’d treated her, in fact, no differently than he had the rest of his friends. She’d had to content herself with stealing glances at him while the band played on stage.

  She glanced down at her red dress. It fairly screamed “Notice Me,” which she supposed was the message she wanted to send. But did she really want Ryan Caminetti to notice her in the way that once sent her knees trembling and her heart knocking? Did she really want to open herself to the possibility of all that pain again?

  Was she really brave enough to put herself on the line — again? Was she even courageous enough to walk into Paddy’s Pub without knowing for certain what she’d find? He said the gang from the concert would be there. That included Anna Morosco, who stole as many glances at Ryan as Tracy herself did. Maybe Anna would be there in a clingy red dress, trying to get Ryan to notice her.

  Tracy put her hands to her face, which felt hot even though the temperature had dipped below sixty. She didn’t know whether she could do this.

  The faint sound of lively piano music seeped into her consciousness, surprising her enough that she dropped her hands. The tune was coming from the newly occupied townhouse next door.
She cocked her head, trying to identify it, smiling when she did.

  “Gray skies are gonna clear up. Put on a happy face,” she sang with the music. “Brush off the clouds and cheer up. Put on a happy face.”

  She smiled as an idea struck her. Maybe she wouldn’t have to go to Paddy’s Pub alone.

  Before she could change her mind, she skipped down the stairs leading from Marietta’s door to the sidewalk and skipped up the ones leading to Jax’s. Then she picked up the ornate brass door knocker and let it fall.

  Jax pulled open the door a few minutes later, smiling at her with what seemed like genuine pleasure. The music had stopped, which could mean only one thing.

  “Was that you playing the piano?” she asked, delighted at this new knowledge of her neighbor.

  “You heard that?” He made a face. “Okay, I admit it. I needed a break from unpacking so I was practicing. But I wish you had heard ‘Hello, Dolly’ instead. I’m just learning ‘Happy Face,’ but I play a killer ‘Dolly.’”

  She giggled. Asking him to help her wasn’t going to be as difficult as she imagined. “Jax? Remember when you said you owed me a favor for finding you that Realtor?” He nodded, his smile still in place even though he was knee deep in half-empty boxes. “I was hoping I could take you up on that tonight.”

  WHAT IF TRACY didn’t show up?

  Ryan blew out a worried breath and looked at the clock that hung on the wall over the worn green felt of the pool table. Ten minutes to ten, two minutes later than the last time he’d checked the time. He was sure he’d told Marietta to let Tracy know the gang was meeting at Paddy’s Pub at nine.

  Considering how Marietta felt about him, maybe he shouldn’t have trusted her to pass along the message. The last time he saw Tracy’s sister, she told him he was worse than a pied flycatcher. Her meaning was a mystery to him until he consulted an encyclopedia and found out the pied flycatcher was a polygamous bird.

  Marietta could definitely have clipped the wings off his plan to win back Tracy’s trust. But what if Tracy herself had decided not to come to Paddy’s, because it reminded her of the good times in their marriage? What if she’d seen enough of him to last a lifetime? What if she didn’t still love him with the same searing intensity that burned inside him every time he so much as thought of her?