Sultry

by Mary Lynn Baxter

  “I know. See you later.”

  “Go see Harvey,” he said to her back. “I’ll be waiting for a report.”

  He would still be waiting this time tomorrow, and the next day, Lindsay told herself, pulling her mind off that conversation and back to her present dilemma. Where was her friend? It wasn’t that she was going to be late for the appointment. She wasn’t; she had plenty of time. She was just anxious to talk to Mary Jane.

  “Hey, did you give up on me?”

  Lindsay swung around. “Where did you come from? I’ve been watching for you.”

  “I’m parked a few cars down from you. I just happened to glance in the direction of the park and saw you.”

  “Thanks for coming.” Lindsay watched as Mary Jane plopped down beside her on the bench. “Did you have any trouble getting off?”

  “Nah. Like I told you before, those yahoos better not say too much to me, as much free overtime as I give them.”

  Lindsay squeezed Mary Jane’s hand, and her lower lip trembled.

  Mary Jane’s forehead wrinkled with concern. “Hey, what’s up? You okay?”

  “No, I don’t think I am.”

  “Are you sick? I mean—” Mary Jane broke off. “After all, we’re forty minutes outside of town, at a doctor’s office. Hell, you’re scaring me.”

  “I’m not sick, or at least not in the way you mean.” Lindsay paused, then stared into space. “I think I’m pregnant.”

  There, she’d said it—the word she hadn’t been able to say even to herself.

  Mary Jane gasped. “Good Lord, Lindsay! Surely you’re jerking my chain.”

  “You know better than that,” Lindsay muttered.

  Mary Jane had a worried look on her face. “Peter?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  Silence beat around them.

  “Then who?” Mary Jane sputtered, her eyes wide and questioning. “Tell me it’s not him. Tell me it’s not that Mitch character.”

  “I can’t tell you that. If I’m pregnant, then it’s his.”

  “Oh, Lordy, Lindsay, I can’t believe this.”

  “Me, either.”

  “What on earth were you thinking about?”

  Lindsay’s lips quirked. “That’s my problem. When I’m around him, I don’t think. At least, not straight.”

  “Whoa, this is some more heavy stuff,” Mary Jane said in a stricken voice.

  “Tell me about it.”

  Suddenly Mary Jane brightened. “Maybe you’re not pregnant. Maybe your system’s just upset.”

  “Maybe the home test I took was defective, too,” Lindsay countered in a flat tone.

  “You tested yourself?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, my.”

  Lindsay heaved a deep sigh. “I can’t even think about it without—”

  “Then don’t,” Mary Jane interrupted, slinging an arm around Lindsay’s shoulders. “Don’t do this to yourself—not until you know for sure. So let’s go get the final verdict, then we’ll talk some more.”

  Lindsay rose and eyed the building across the street. It housed doctors, lawyers and sundry other professionals. She had chosen this particular doctor after having overheard a friend talk about him and how good he was. An added bonus was that he was out of Garnet proper. Hopefully he was far enough away, but she doubted it.

  Doctors in a surrounding area tended to know each other and stick together like glue. Still, she could hope. And really, when it came down to it, she shouldn’t have to worry, because of patient-doctor confidentiality.

  “Keep your chin up, you hear?” Mary Jane demanded once they had reached the waiting room and Lindsay’s name was called. “I’ll keep my fingers crossed.”

  Lindsay nodded her thanks, her throat too full to respond verbally.

  An hour later, Lindsay was looking at Mary Jane across the table in a coffee shop. Both were silent as they sipped on their drinks. Actually, Lindsay was too sick to say anything. It was an effort to get the hot liquid down.

  “So you’re going to have a baby, kiddo,” Mary Jane said, blowing out her breath.

  “It seems that way,” Lindsay responded in a dazed voice.

  “Hey, you gotta buck up. It’s not the end of the world, you know.”

  “That’s easy for you to say.”

  Lindsay felt numb. Dr. Abe Mason had been one of the nicest, kindest doctors she’d ever been to. Still, she’d only gone through the motions of first the conference, then the examination.

  “You were on target, Ms. Newman,” he’d said. “You’re definitely pregnant.”

  You’re definitely pregnant. You’re definitely pregnant. You’re definitely pregnant. Those words kept playing over and over in her mind, until she thought she might actually lose what little mind she had left.

  “Come on, stop beating yourself black and blue.”

  “If you were in my place, what would you do?”

  “Beat myself black and blue,” Mary Jane admitted without hesitation. Then she smiled fleetingly. “Just kidding.”

  “No, you weren’t.”

  “Look, Lindsay, you have choices. I won’t pretend to know exactly what’s churning inside you right now, but—”

  “It’s fear, M.J.,” Lindsay cut in. “Bone-chilling fear.”

  “Under the circumstances, you wouldn’t be human if you weren’t afraid.” Mary Jane paused. “Look, tell me to go butt a stump if I’m getting too far out of line here, but when did you and Mitch’s relationship heat up to such a degree?”

  “Almost from day one.”

  “You mean you actually—” Mary Jane, who was never at a loss for words, seemed shocked; her sentence ended in a sputter.

  Lindsay didn’t pretend to misunderstand her, though she was red-faced when she said in a hushed tone, “Of course not, silly. However, it wasn’t long afterward.”

  “Jeez, he must have something really special to have sucked you in so deeply and so quickly.”

  “I told you he was special, and in so many ways, too.”

  “For heaven’s sake, Lindsay, he’s just a gardener.”

  “And what’s wrong with that?” Lindsay’s tone had a sudden bite to it.

  “Hell’s bells, you know the answer to that. Cooper’s going to shit a brick when he finds out.”

  Lindsay shivered visibly. “I can’t even think about that.”

  A short silence followed her words, during which she tried to drink more of her coffee. She couldn’t. Even the smell turned her stomach.

  “So are you going to tell him?”

  “I don’t know.” Lindsay’s voice faltered. “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

  “Which means you don’t know what you’re going to do about the baby, right?” Mary Jane asked.

  Lindsay’s lower lip trembled again. “I can’t begin to think straight. I’m still in shock.”

  “If you were going to mess around, why didn’t you use something?”

  Mary Jane’s blunt question took Lindsay aback for a second. “I don’t have an excuse. It just happened so fast.”

  “I bet anything Mitch thought you were on the pill—that you and Peter were getting it on.”

  “Well, we weren’t.”

  “Ever? You mean you haven’t slept with Peter?”

  “No, I have not.”

  “Well, that shows you have some sense, anyway.”

  Lindsay gave her an exasperated look.

  “What about Mitch? When are you going to tell him?”

  “I don’t know, especially after the stunt Daddy pulled.” Lindsay explained about the remodeling project.

  “What a mess. No telling what Mitch is thinking.”

  “I can’t bear to think about that,” Lindsay said in a small, trembling voice.

  Mary Jane reached out and touched her arm. “Look at me. It’s going to be all right. Like I said earlier, you have choices. And you know what they are. And you have time to make them. So stop beating up on yourself.
”

  “Aren’t you going to ask if I love him?”

  “Do you?”

  “I don’t know,” Lindsay wailed. “What I do know is that I can’t stay away from him.”

  Mary Jane shrugged. “Then don’t.”

  “Thanks, but that’s not what I needed to hear.”

  “Yes, it is. That’s exactly what you wanted to hear, anyway. I’ve never seen you like this, Lindsay. Never seen you throw caution to the wind and go with your feelings, at least not since your breakdown. And it’s not a bad thing.”

  “Yes, it is, Mary Jane. But I’ve gotten myself into this mess, and only I can get myself out.”

  “Well, I’m not going anywhere. Remember that. Whatever you decide, I’ll support you.”

  Lindsay stood. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

  When she walked into the mansion a little while later, Cooper was still there. Lindsay’s steps faltered, as did her heart. He was on the porch, drinking a glass of iced tea. She had assumed—or rather, hoped—he would be playing golf with some of his cronies.

  “So did you see Milbrook?” he asked without preamble.

  She ignored his question. “I figured you’d be on the course. Are you feeling okay?”

  “I’m fine. I wish you’d stop fretting about me. Anyhow, I had lunch with your brother. That’s why I didn’t play.”

  “Is Tim okay?”

  “He’s fine,” Cooper said with impatience. “So back to my question. Did you see Harvey?”

  “No.”

  “Dammit, Lindsay. You’re depressed again. Even if you can’t see it, I can.”

  “What I am, Daddy, is pregnant.”

  Sudden silence drummed around them. Then Cooper said in a strained voice, “What the hell kind of sick game are you playing?”

  “It’s no game,” Lindsay replied, her own voice strained to the hilt. “It’s the unvarnished truth.”

  “I wanted you to have a baby. But not before you got married.”

  “I know you’re upset.”

  “Upset!” He laughed a harsh laugh. “That’s just the tip of the iceberg. This is not the way the Newmans do things.”

  “I don’t suppose it is,” Lindsay said softly, sinking down into the nearest chair, her stomach as trembly as her limbs.

  “I’m assuming the baby is Peter’s. And while I’m by no means happy that you didn’t wait, at least you won’t have an excuse for not marrying him now.”

  “Daddy—”

  He kept on as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’ll get Mitch going on plans for the south wing, while you, young lady, take care of wedding plans. No one will have to know that—”

  “There’s not going to be a wedding, Daddy.”

  He whipped his head around, his nostrils flaring. “Excuse me?”

  The only reason she repeated what she’d said was to buy more time. She knew that he’d heard her. “Nothing has changed on that score. I’m not going to marry Peter.”

  “But that makes no sense.”

  “Yes it does—because the baby isn’t his.”

  She might as well have dropped a grenade in the room and been done with it. Cooper’s jaw dropped. “Not his. Then who—” He stopped as if he’d run out of both words and the energy to say them.

  Sudden concern shot through Lindsay. Had she put undue strain on his heart by blurting out her news? Perhaps. But no matter when or how she’d told him, he would have reacted in the same irrational manner.

  Still, she could have soft-pedaled it more, but she was mentally hemorrhaging herself.

  “I’m not going to tell you who the father is.”

  Lindsay watched color inch its way into his face until it was bloodred. He was enraged, she knew. Another surge of fear went though her while she stilled herself against what she figured would be his next attack—a demand that she have an abortion.

  “Fine. Don’t tell me. I really don’t want to know, and it really doesn’t matter.”

  Lindsay was stunned. “I’m grateful and relieved you feel that way,” she finally managed to say.

  Cooper held up his hand. “Regardless of who the father is, Peter will marry you, anyway.”

  Twenty

  He would quit.

  Mitch scowled into an early morning sky that only hinted that dawn was soon to follow. He had already consumed several cups of coffee, more than his usual. If he didn’t watch it, he would be wilder than a buck.

  His scowl deepened. Hell, who was he trying to kid? He was already wild—wild about Lindsay Newman. He finished the remainder of the strong liquid, then slammed the cup down on the table nearest him.

  Somehow he had to get his act together. But unless he hauled ass out of Garnet, he didn’t foresee that happening. With each passing day, his black mood worsened. That wasn’t going to improve anytime time soon, either—not with Lindsay hot and heavy on his mind.

  It would be a cold day in hell, though, before he lifted a hand to build a cozy nest for her and another man to live in. His gut roiled. No way. He should just leave.

  He couldn’t. Lindsay might as well have him chained by the ankles.

  Even so, he clung desperately to the hope that what he felt for her was lust and not love.

  He didn’t want to love her. Just the thought was painful. Yet he would like nothing better than to awaken every morning with her by his side, with him embedded inside her, hearing her panting moans as she came.

  He thought about her every waking minute of the day, like some pimple-faced high school chump pining over the head cheerleader. But he was no high school chump; he was a grown man, for chrissake!

  Still, he was addicted to her and couldn’t stand the thought of leaving her or having someone else touch her. He groaned, feeling the pinch of his zipper.

  So what was the solution?

  As long as she was willing to meet him whenever and wherever, he wasn’t going to rock the boat. If her old man ever found out—hell, Mitch wasn’t going to think about that, either. He would wait and cross that bridge when and if he had to.

  Meanwhile, he would continue to do what he’d always done, and that was work like a field hand and mind his own business.

  Mitch frowned, his thoughts suddenly jumping back to the phone conversation he’d overheard between Tim and some unknown person. Despite his efforts not to let it bother him, it did. But he hadn’t changed his intentions. He refused to get involved.

  What would meddling accomplish, anyway? Nothing good, that was for sure. It was a given that Lindsay wouldn’t side with him. Tim was her brother, and while she might admit his faults, she would never believe he was involved in anything shady or illegal.

  And maybe he wasn’t, Mitch reminded himself grimly. So back off, his gut instinct told him. Back off and concentrate on Lindsay. She alone was more than enough for any man to handle.

  With that in mind, Mitch stamped out into the breaking dawn.

  “And how are you this evening, Peter?”

  Peter shrugged. “I could be better.”

  Cooper pointed to the most comfortable chair in the library. “I think your luck’s about to change. But first, have a seat, and I’ll fix you a drink.”

  “Bourbon and Coke.”

  “I remember,” Cooper said, crossing to a small bar in the corner of the room.

  A few minutes later, both men had drinks in hand and were facing each other. “Thanks for having me to dinner,” Peter said, then downed one third of his drink in one swallow.

  Cooper’s facial expression registered his disapproval, as did his words. “Hey, son, take it easy. At this rate, you’ll be loaded before dinner.”

  “Sorry,” Peter muttered, setting down his glass. “It’s just that I’m frustrated as hell. Lately, I can’t even seem to get on the playing field with Lindsay, much less to first base.”

  “There’s a reason for that.” Cooper kept his voice as level as possible, realizing he was about to step on ice-covered ground. He had to tread with extreme care. />
  “I’m assuming you’re going to tell me what that reason is.” Peter’s expression was as sullen as his tone.

  “All in good time,” Cooper said. “You must learn to be patient, my friend. Good things come to those who wait.”

  If anything, Peter looked more sullen, but he didn’t argue. Cooper knew he should stop delaying what had to be said, but this was such a touchy situation.

  “Where’s Lindsay?” Peter asked into the short silence.

  “She’ll be down shortly.”

  Peter reached for his glass and took another healthy swallow. “She does know I’m dining with y’all, right?”

  “She’s looking forward to it,” Cooper lied smoothly.

  Peter didn’t respond, though Cooper wasn’t sure if Peter believed him or not. But it didn’t matter. Since push had come to shove, he would have his way where both Lindsay and Peter were concerned.

  “I’m about to have the south wing remodeled.”

  Peter’s brows shot up. “Is that what you were going to tell me?”

  “It’s related.”

  “How does that affect me? If you’ll pardon my bluntness, I don’t give a damn about anything that doesn’t.”

  “I have no problem with that. After all, we have a deal.”

  “A deal that your daughter’s attitude is putting in serious jeopardy.”

  “Again, patience.”

  Peter smirked openly. “Right.”

  “The south wing is where you and Lindsay will live after you’re married.”

  Peter’s face brightened. “So you’ve finally talked some sense into her.”

  “Well,” Cooper hedged, “not exactly.”

  Peter’s expression turned petulant again.

  “Can you handle the fact that she’s pregnant?”

  Peter’s mouth flopped open. “What?”

  Good thing the man didn’t have dentures, Cooper thought inanely, or they would have fallen out. “You heard me.”

  Peter shook his head, looking like he’d been sucker punched.

  “It’s going to be all right,” Cooper said with conviction. “All is not lost.”

  “Surely you don’t expect—”

  “I sure as hell do,” Cooper lashed back in a deadly but controlled tone.

  “A bastard baby was not part of the deal,” Peter retorted, the color gradually returning to his face.