Grady smiled. “You’re going to discuss football with him?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.” She laughed.
A few feet separated them, yet at that moment, Francesca felt closer to Grady than she had all evening.
The doorbell rang.
Grady groaned. “I told her not to come over tonight.”
“Who?” Francesca asked.
“My mother. I phoned her about the accident.”
“You told her I’d be staying here?” Francesca couldn’t keep her voice from rising.
“You’re already pregnant. It’s not as if anything else is going to happen,” he offered wryly as he left the room and went to answer the door.
Francesca wasn’t sure what to do—hide and unpack her suitcase or go and face Grady’s mother. She was exhausted. But this woman would be her child’s grandmother. Didn’t she want her baby to have a loving family in his life?
Loving. Maybe Grady’s mother wouldn’t even like her. Maybe Grady’s mother was going to disapprove of this whole situation.
Francesca couldn’t help but go to the mirror over the dresser and take a peek at herself. She wished she hadn’t. She looked as if she’d been in an accident. If only she could just drop into bed. And yet she couldn’t. She had to check her sugar with the meter and supplies the pharmacy had sent up before she left the hospital and make sure she ate something—the right food.
Life had gotten way too complicated today, and she knew that wasn’t going to change any time soon.
As Francesca walked down the hall to the kitchen, she smelled cooked food. She wasn’t sure what kind, but her stomach grumbled.
An attractive woman who might have been in her sixties, with reddish-brown, chin-length hair laced with gray and rimless glasses turned her way.
“Aren’t you going to introduce us, Grady?” mother asked son.
This was an awkward situation in so many ways, but Francesca shored up any energy she still possessed and walked right into it.
“Mom, this is Francesca Talbot. Francesca, this is my mother, Maureen Fitzgerald. When I told her I was going to bring you here, she decided to load up the refrigerator.”
Maureen gave her son a jab in the ribs. “Don’t be ridiculous. I know you can cook. But I also know you’re busy. And having a guest—” She stopped. “Well, I just thought you both might like something homemade.” She studied Francesca. “Did you have supper?”
“There was a tray in the hospital around five, but I wasn’t very hungry.”
“No, I guess not. Not after the day you’ve had. Grady told me you have a sugar problem, so I grilled lean ground beef patties and cooked brown rice. There’s a tossed salad and broccoli with cheese that’s still warm. We can zap it in the microwave if you need it hotter.”
His mother searched his cabinet for serving dishes.
“Mom, please.”
Maureen stared at him. “What?”
“I asked you to wait until tomorrow to come over, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did. But I thought you’d need supper tonight, and obviously you do.”
Grady looked exasperated. “Francesca needs to get her feet up and turn in. She’s not going to want to eat a heavy meal.”
Shadow had come along with Francesca and now sat beside her at the table, glancing between Grady and his mother.
Francesca was afraid Grady had hurt his mother’s feelings. “Actually, Grady, maybe I could just have half of one of those patties and a few stalks of broccoli. Everything smells delicious. I’ll wait for a while after I eat before I turn in.”
“You won’t be able to keep your eyes open.”
She gave him a look and Maureen saw it. His mother also seemed to notice the way Shadow stayed by Francesca’s side.
Before Grady could protest further, Maureen took a dish from the cupboard and a serving spoon from the drawer. Then she cut and slid half of a patty and a serving of broccoli onto a dish. She set it on the table.
“Did you eat?” she asked her son.
“Yes, I did.”
“Good.” Maureen snagged a glass from the cupboard and a jug of milk from the refrigerator. Pouring it half-full, she handed it to Francesca. “So…Grady tells me you’re a neonatologist.”
“Thank you. Yes, I am. With this arm it’s going to be hard to doctor for the next month. But I’ll figure out a way.”
“Maybe you could take some time off,” Maureen suggested.
“I’m going to take a few days, but then I really need to work. There are several preemie babies and we’re going to be short-staffed. One of the doctors in my practice is going out of town.”
Although her mind was sluggish due to her fatigue, Francesca made a stab at continuing the conversation. “Grady told me he has an older brother, a younger brother and a younger sister. Do they all live in this area?”
“Yes, they do, and I’m so glad of that. It gives us all a chance to get together often. Liam lived in Amarillo for a while when he was married, but since his divorce he’s back in Sagebrush. Do you have family here?” Maureen asked as Grady leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest.
“No, I don’t.” Francesca didn’t say more.
“Do they live somewhere else in the state?” Maureen pressed.
“No, actually I don’t have family. My mother died a few years ago before I moved here. We lived in Oklahoma then.”
“And your father?”
Suddenly Francesca wasn’t hungry at all. She didn’t travel this route often. “My parents were separated when I was a child.”
“And you didn’t continue to see your father?”
Francesca made it as simple as she could. “No. We moved away, my mother and I.”
“But he was still—”
Grady cut in. “Mom, maybe we’d better cut this short.”
Maureen examined the two of them, then agreed. “I guess we should. I was simply concerned this might be my only chance to talk to Francesca. You’ve told us about her, but this is the first glimpse I’ve had of her. She’s carrying my grandchild.”
Whatever Grady had told his mother had apparently caused her some consternation. “Mrs. Fitzgerald, if you’d like to talk to me, I can give you my number.”
That seemed to surprise Maureen. “You’d do that?”
Francesca’s eyebrows arched. What exactly had Grady told his mother about her? “Yes, I would.”
Maureen seemed to relax a bit. “Well, that would be nice. Maybe you could join our family for dinner some Sunday.”
“Mom,” Grady warned, as if they’d had a conversation about this, but she wasn’t sticking to the script.
How comfortable or uncomfortable would dinner with the Fitzgerald family be? Francesca felt as if she’d just landed on a foreign planet and was treading her way very carefully. “I’ll certainly think about that.”
His mother didn’t look satisfied, but she didn’t look altogether put off, either. She nodded to Francesca. “You go ahead and eat. I’ll leave. I would appreciate having your number.”
With a grunt Grady said, “I’ll give it to her.” He scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to his mom.
Francesca took a bite of the broccoli and said to Maureen, “This is very good. Thank you for bringing it over tonight.”
Grady’s mother smiled at her. “You’re welcome.”
After Grady walked his mother to the door, they stepped outside together and had a few moments of conversation. Francesca couldn’t overhear. It was probably just as well.
When Grady came back in, he shook his head. “I’m sorry about all that. She’s a strong-willed woman. And my sister is just like her.”
Francesca laughed and it felt so good to do it. “She meant well.” Francesca took another bite of the broccoli, then asked, “What did you tell her about us? About how this happened?”
Grady ran his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t say much. I just told my family that
you were pregnant and that we were giving each other some space until the baby was born.”
“They thought we were involved?”
“I was vague.”
If she had family who cared about her, would she have told them that she’d had a one-night stand? She didn’t know why she was even wondering. Having family had only ever hurt her.
“Does your family interfere in your life often?”
Shadow bumped her leg, as if he wanted to share her supper, or the remains of it. But she didn’t know if she should feed him.
The question she’d just asked Grady apparently caused him some annoyance because he was scowling at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You said you asked your mother not to come tonight, but she came anyway. Don’t you consider that interference?”
“Would you have considered it interference if your mother had stopped by?”
She wasn’t touching that question with the proverbial ten-foot pole. “I thought only lawyers answered questions with questions.”
Digging his thumbs into his hip pockets, he paused for a moment, then responded, “My mother likes to look after her family. It’s as simple as that. She does what she thinks best. I don’t always agree with her and I tell her that.”
After Francesca finished her milk, she set down her glass. “It was very kind of her to bring over dinner.”
That seemed to take the wind out of Grady’s annoyed sails. He glanced at her empty plate. “I think you really did like it.”
She motioned to the food on the counter. “Do you want help stowing that away?”
“No, I’ll take care of it. You put your feet up. That’s what you’re supposed to do.”
“I’m going to take a shower first. Do you have something I can wrap around my cast?”
After rummaging in a bottom cupboard, he pulled something out of a box. “Here’s a plastic bag. Do you need help taping it on?”
She shook her head. “I’ll be fine. I have to take off my clothes first.”
That brought a look into his blue eyes that she’d seen the night they’d had sex. It was an intense look that told her maybe he was imagining that night all over again.
Before that movie could play in her head, she had to make her getaway. She said, “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Without waiting for a good-night, she hurried down the hall. She didn’t know why she was so skittish around him. Sure, he’d seen her naked. Sure, they’d talked a few hours, sexual tension bumping back and forth between them. The problem was, she still got butterflies when she looked into his eyes. And that would never do. She didn’t want a relationship with Grady. She didn’t want a relationship with anyone…except her baby. And Tessa and Emily, she added as an afterthought.
Francesca decided to wait to test her blood sugar until after she was out of the shower. But she was suddenly more tired than she’d been before. Maybe it was the warm food in her stomach. Maybe the day had finally just taken her to the end of her rope. The cast on her arm made everything more difficult, especially dressing and undressing. It took her much longer than she planned, and when she was finished she almost felt like crying. That was ridiculous. She didn’t cry.
Hormones?
Sure.
Attaching the plastic bag around her cast wasn’t easy, either. Stepping into the shower, using one hand to turn on the water, bathe and soap her hair took more energy and ingenuity than she thought she had. Finally, when she was finished, she stepped out of the bathtub, toweled off and realized she hadn’t packed a nightgown. She hadn’t really packed. Grady had. She’d simply forgotten about the nightwear.
Wrapping a towel around herself, she tucked it in the best she could, then searched through her suitcase to find something to wear to bed. Panties and a bra she couldn’t hook? A sweater?
Finally she sank down onto the bed and dropped her head into her hand, her wet hair falling along her cheeks.
She heard scratching at her door. A knock followed.
She groaned. She was not up to more conversation.
“Francesca, Shadow wants to come in to say good-night. Do you mind?”
“I’m not dressed,” she called.
“He won’t mind.”
She actually almost laughed. “Will you be coming in with him?”
“Only if you want me to.”
“Let Shadow in. Maybe he can help me find something to wear to bed. I forgot to list a nightgown in the items you were picking up.”
There was silence. Then the door opened and the border collie barged in. He didn’t even hesitate, but jumped up on the bed and licked her face. She put her arm around him and felt real tears burn in her eyes.
Seconds later she felt a male presence. Lifting her head, she saw Grady towering over her. “Am I going to have privacy staying here with you?” Her voice trembled a bit and she hated that.
“You’ll have your privacy. But right now I think you need this more.” He handed her a white, button-down silk shirt.
“This looks like a good dress shirt.”
“I don’t have any weddings or funerals in the near future, so wear it. Do you want Shadow in or out?”
“In is fine.” She didn’t want to admit to Grady that his dog seemed to understand her. How odd was that?
“Do you need help getting that bag off your arm?”
She had taped it the best she could, probably with more tape than was necessary. Pulling it all off could take a while.
Although she hadn’t answered him, he sat down on the bed beside her and started ripping tape from the plastic. It took him no time at all. “I had my arm in a cast once. It’s no picnic, especially when it still hurts.”
“When I get settled and stop moving around it will be okay.”
His fingers edged the top of the cast first. Then he slid them down and touched her fingertips sticking out from the bottom of the cast. “You’re cold,” he said.
“I just got out of the shower.”
“Did you say you had to test your blood sugar?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to be here when you do?”
She looked over at him. “You want to be part of that, too?”
“Your health is important to the life of our baby. I should know what’s going on.”
She sighed. “Give me five minutes to get into your shirt.”
Grady returned five minutes later. She’d dropped her towel, donned his shirt and finally managed to roll the cuff above her cast. At least she was buttoned from neck to thigh. The material of the shirt wasn’t much different from a nightgown, and it molded to her when she stood.
After reading the meter instructions, she’d laid out everything she needed on the bed and prepared the lancet.
Grady pulled the rocker up to her so he could see what she was doing.
They were knee to knee, tantalizingly close.
She moved her leg away so it didn’t brush his. She was much too aware that he’d probably shaved before he’d picked her up. His jawline was clean. She was also aware that he’d slapped on cologne, an outdoor scent that reminded her of trees and woods and places she’d never been.
Grady watched intently as she inserted the test strip into the machine, used an alcohol wipe and pricked her finger to collect a drop of blood.
She studied the readout. “High-normal. But it hasn’t been two hours since I ate, so that makes sense.”
Changing his position on the bed, Shadow crossed one paw over the other and settled his head on his paws. When she stood and crossed the room to set the meter on the dresser, she looked in the mirror and saw Grady watching her.
“What?” she asked, knowing the bulge of her tummy was evident under the soft shirt.
“You look better in that shirt than I ever did.”
“Are you trying to flatter me?”
Now he didn’t keep his distance. He walked right up to her and stood very close. “You’re a beautiful woman, Francesca. I don’t kn
ow many men who could see you like that and not want to look.”
“You looked before,” she murmured, knowing her cheeks were flaming.
“That was different.”
“Different, how?”
“You weren’t carrying my child then. Now it makes a difference.” He lifted a wet strand of hair away from her face. “You didn’t have wet hair then, either.”
“I don’t have the energy to dry it.”
“Let me do it for you.”
“Oh, Grady…” she whispered.
“I brought you here to help you. What good is help if you won’t accept it?”
Emily and Tessa told her all the time that she didn’t know how to accept help, that she took on too much all by herself and felt she had to do it all. She was so sleepy right now, she wouldn’t mind falling asleep with wet hair.
But Grady was insistent. “Do you have a brush?”
She gestured toward the bag on her bed, knowing the one the nurse had bought for her at the pharmacy was somewhere inside.
After Grady moved the cane-backed rocker over to an outlet, he motioned for her to sit in the chair and plugged in the hair dryer that he’d brought from the bathroom. She hadn’t remembered that, either.
“Grady, you really don’t have to—”
He switched on the hair dryer, ignoring her protest. She expected just a quick ruffle and brush through and they’d soon be finished. Damp hair didn’t matter to her. But that wasn’t the way Grady did it. He was careful, oh so careful. In fact, he wasn’t simply careful. Each brushstroke felt seductive. He took his time, brushing her hair away from her face, making sure the air didn’t hit her eyes or her mouth or her nose. With each stroke she sank deeper into relaxation. With each stroke, she remembered the touch of his callused fingers on her skin—
When he switched off the dryer, she looked up at him. “I don’t think I can move a muscle.”
“You don’t have far to go, though I think Shadow’s going to take up half your bed. Are you sure you want him here?”
“I’d like him to stay.” It was on the tip of her tongue to say, “I’d like you to stay.” That was absolutely insane. She was only here because she needed a little bit of help.
The idea of a bond or an involvement or a relationship with Grady Fitzgerald terrified her. When she was small she had often hidden in a closet to be safe from her father. The day she’d found courage to protect her mother from him, he’d hit her, drawn blood and caused her hearing loss. For the most part she’d worked through her childhood over the years. Two years ago, when she’d decided her fear of relationships was foolhardy, she’d chosen the wrong man.
Baby by Surprise Page 3