If Wishes Were...Daddies

by Jo Leigh

  He shook his head. “Just the check, please.”

  “I couldn’t help but notice your accent. Are you from France?”

  He grinned. “Close. Italy.”

  “Really? I love spaghetti.”

  Nick pulled out his wallet and handed her a five dollar bill. “I love spaghetti, too,” he said, careful to let her know that pasta was the only topic he cared to discuss.

  She got the point and, with a little shrug, went off to get him his change.

  Nick watched her walk away. The exchange hadn’t been unusual. Sometimes started by him, sometimes by the lady. There was that one moment, before words had been spoken, just after eye contact. That one breathless moment when he wasn’t sure. When all that existed were possibilities. That’s what he would miss. Not what came after.

  He thought about Jessica, about that first moment when he’d seen her at the party. He hadn’t known many people there, just the hostess and her boyfriend. Jessica had been standing by the fireplace, sipping a glass of champagne. She was listening to a man talk, but not really hearing. He could tell from across the room that she was bored.

  He’d been drawn to her immediately. With that dark red hair, her slender but curvy figure in that black suit with the short skirt. Of course she was beautiful, but that’s not what had made him cross the room. There had been a surprising number of beautiful women at that party, as he recalled. But Jessica...

  What was it? What was it about her that had made him oblivious to every other person in the room? He didn’t think it was her looks, but he couldn’t put his finger on anything else. What he did remember was the feeling he’d had walking across that room. The anticipation had been so strong, so powerful, that he’d known before he spoke to her that they would be together. That something important was about to occur.

  He chuckled to himself, just as the waitress came back with his money. She looked hopeful for another second, but that ended when she saw his face. He got up, leaving her a very generous tip.

  As he went to his car, he realized that since that moment, since that first time he’d seen Jessica, he hadn’t approached another woman. He’d met Gina and Libby before Jessica, that’s right. And after? There had been opportunities, just like with the waitress, but no interest on his part.

  All the women he’d met simply weren’t Jessica. If he had to get married at all, he was glad it was to be with her.

  HE WAS DUE ANY MOMENT. Jessica wasn’t ready. To call this a bad hair day was to do a disservice to all other bad hair days. Nothing worked. Her makeup, the same makeup she’d worn for years, suddenly made her look like a mannequin. Her dress, a favorite, and the fifth one she’d tried on, didn’t seem to fit right. It wasn’t exactly tight, it just didn’t hang properly. And her hair. Well, it was clear she was going to have to go hat shopping if this was what pregnancy did for her.

  She grabbed a large barrette and pulled her hair back. Anything else was just an exercise in futility.

  Glancing at her watch, she saw that another ten minutes had passed. She’d been getting ready to see Nick for more than two hours. What was with her? For heaven’s sake, she’d gotten ready for her prom in forty-five minutes! This wasn’t even a date, just dinner. Just a conversation. Just her future.

  She put her hand on her stomach, willing the butterflies, if that’s all that was, to settle down. Taking in a deep breath, she held it for five counts, then slowly let it out. It didn’t help. She was still a wreck.

  Ever since he’d left her office this morning, she hadn’t been able to think clearly. She could still hardly believe all that had taken place in the last few days. Her whole life had taken a sharp right turn, and she didn’t have her seat belt on. Nothing made sense. No easy answers were at hand. She felt helpless, worried and just plain confused.

  She thought about talking things over with Jeff but decided against it. He was a dear friend, and a wonderful sounding board, but he was also a guy. What she needed was a woman to talk to. Someone who’d been faced with a situation like this, and had made good choices. Someone who knew her and cared about what happened to her. Which eliminated her mother.

  Well, maybe she wasn’t being fair. So they didn’t have a warm, fuzzy relationship. Mona had been in this situation. She’d gotten pregnant just after high school. She’d decided against marriage, and although Jessica had asked her why many times, her mother had never given her a straight answer.

  Maybe now, when she was in the same predicament, her mother would open up? Confide in her?

  Jessica checked the time as she went to the phone. Nick wasn’t due just yet. And if he did arrive early, she’d ask him to wait. Making the call felt right.

  She found her address book and looked up the number. Mona would have left the salon by now. Jessica did another round of deep breathing as she dialed.

  “Hello?”

  “Mona?”

  “Jess. Hi. How are you?”

  Immediately, Jessica’s stomach tightened. This had been a mistake. “I’m okay,” she said. “Well, sort of.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  She paused. “I’m pregnant”

  Her mother laughed. It wasn’t a very good sound. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing. Who’s the father?”.

  “His name is Nick Carlucci. He’s from Italy. A pilot.”

  “Really? Any plans to get married? Or is this going to be a solo effort?”

  “I don’t know,” Jessica said, picturing her mother’s cool blue eyes, her carefully tended red hair. The set of her mouth.

  “I’m assuming it wasn’t planned.”

  “No, it wasn’t That’s why I thought...”

  “How far along are you?”

  “A month.”

  “Well, there’s still time.”

  Jessica closed her eyes. “Time for what?”

  “To end it. You’re still young, Jessica. For God’s sake, why take on a burden like that if you don’t have to?”

  Jessica felt sick. “Look, Mona, I have to go. I just wanted you to know, that’s all.”

  “Well, I appreciate the call. Let me know what you decide.”

  “I will. Bye, Mona.” She replaced the phone on the cradle and made her way to the couch. She thought about getting some crackers, but she didn’t want to move. She didn’t want to do much of anything.

  Damn it, she should have known better. Where was her judgment? Her good sense? How on earth had she ever believed, even for a second, that Mona would be there for her? That anyone would?

  She rubbed her stomach gently, trying to quell the unease. When the knock on the door came, she jumped. The room had grown darker, colder. She shivered, then got up to let Nick in.

  He stood in her doorway holding a bouquet of mixed flowers. His smile, bright, cheerful, held nothing but confidence. But the smile faded quickly. “What’s wrong?” he said, stepping past her into the apartment,

  “Nothing,” she said.

  “No, something is wrong. Are you feeling sick again?”

  She closed the door and pasted a smile on her face. “Just a little,” she said.

  He looked at her for a long while. She wished he wouldn’t. Nick had a way of seeing too much. She held her hand out for the flowers, needing the distraction. But he didn’t hand them to her.

  “Aren’t those for me?”

  He nodded. “They can wait. First, tell me what happened.”

  “Nothing happened, Nick. I’m fine.”

  “Ah, my Jessica. You can’t hide from me, don’t you know that yet?” He tossed the bouquet on the sofa and moved toward her, seeking out her gaze. “I have seen you fine, mi amore. And right now, you aren’t fine.”

  She stepped back, but he stopped her with his hand on her arm. Then he moved his fingers to her face and gently, softly caressed her cheek.

  “You’re not alone, cara.”

  She wanted to believe him. Even as she fell into his arms, even as
the tears wet his shoulder, she wanted to believe him.

  Chapter Eight

  Nick wrapped his arms tightly around Jessica, the feel of her trembling stirring his blood. Whatever was wrong, he would fix it. Whatever it took. The overwhelming need to protect her was something completely new to him, and so powerful it frightened him.

  She sniffed and pulled back. Reluctantly, he let her go.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

  “To come to me when you’re sad? You should do that Always.”

  Jessica shook her head, then wiped underneath her eyes as if to get rid of any trace of her tears. “It’s no big deal,” she said. “Certainly not worth crying about I don’t know what’s come over me.”

  “Ormones,” he said. “The baby.”

  She nodded, turning toward the kitchen. “I’m sure that’s it—hormones. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “No. But you can tell me what happened.”

  “Nothing. Really. Let me get a vase for those flowers. They’re really lovely. Thank you.”

  He watched her get the vase down from her cupboard and fill it with water while he debated. Should he press her? Should he let it go? What would Carlo do? Nick remembered when his cousin’s wife was pregnant. She’d cried all the time. Food—that’s it. When she got upset, Carlo would get her something to eat. Sweet things, sour things. That always calmed her down. “You want to go to dinner now?” he asked Jessica.

  She put the flowers on the dining room table and adjusted the arrangement. “Okay,” she said. “I need to fix my makeup, then we can go.”

  “You look beautiful,” Nick said, startled to realize he meant it. She did, though. Soft and vulnerable, with that little trace of mascara still on her cheek and her normally perfect hair a little fuzzy around her face. There was something unguarded and open about her now that he’d never seen before. He liked that Jessica was a strong woman, that she had her own mind and strong opinions. But this side of her appealed to him in a completely different way. If he thought she’d let him, he would have taken her once more in his arms. But from the way she wouldn’t look at him, he knew she would just chase him away.

  “Make yourself comfortable,” she said as she walked to the bathroom.

  He nodded, still troubled, still feeling like there was something he should do. When she left the door open to the bathroom, he decided he would be comfortable watching her, not sitting alone. But he moved quietly. He didn’t want to upset her again.

  He went toward the bathroom and leaned against the wall just outside. From there he could see her as she took the damp washcloth and wiped her face. His gaze moved down her body, and he tried to picture her in a few months, swollen with their child. He smiled. She would be beautiful then, too. If she were anything like Carlo’s wife, she’d become rounder all over. Her cheeks would fill out a bit, and her breasts... They would get big and full.

  The thought aroused him. It would be something to see her naked then. When she was her most womanly. He’d never thought about making love to a pregnant woman, but he wanted to with Jessica. The idea was very erotic to him, so much he felt himself harden.

  She was putting powder on her nose. He went to her, stood behind her, facing the mirror. She put her makeup down and looked at him.

  “Bellissima, ” he whispered, moving his hand to her cheek. Her skin was so soft, it was like touching the most precious silk.

  “I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  She blushed and looked down. “You don’t have to say things like that, Nick. It’s not necessary.”

  “Necessary? Of course it is. It would hurt me not to tell you.”

  “It’s not true.”

  “Only through your eyes.” He reached below her chin and gently lifted her face until she’d once again met his gaze in the mirror. “I see a woman whose skin is so soft, I’m almost afraid to touch. Whose eyes are as green and deep as a forest. Whose mouth is so lush, my lips get lost in a kiss.”

  He let go of her chin, but only so his hands could find her shoulders. Turning her, he felt resistance, but not much. Then she was facing him, and he was looking at the real thing, not a mirror image.

  “More than that,” he whispered, lightly touching the small lines at the edges of her eyes. “I see your laughter.” He brushed the pad of his finger on her brow. “I see the wisdom and the sadness in your eyes.” Then he leaned down and gently kissed her lips. “I feel the tenderness, and the passion, and you are so lovely it makes me want to weep.”

  She moaned, cried out in a sound that was part pain and part surrender. He took her in his arms, and this time his kiss wasn’t gentle. He tasted her lips, but it wasn’t enough. He slipped inside the wet velvet of her mouth, where the feel of her made him dizzy.

  Her hands went to his back, and she pressed herself to him more tightly. Her breasts against his chest made him ache for her, and he reached down between them to touch her.

  She jerked back a little, and he stopped. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m just a little tender there, that’s all.”

  “Ah,” he said, disappointed. “I’m sorry. I got carried away.”

  “No, really, it’s not your fault. Ormones,” she said, saying the word with his Italian accent. Then she smiled.

  He smiled back. It wasn’t easy, as he had to concentrate on cooling his body down, but he did it. It wasn’t time to press her. She wasn’t feeling good, and he wouldn’t do that to her. But he knew he would have to make love with her soon. “Feel better?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Yes, I’m finished crying. Don’t worry.”

  “I wasn’t worried at all.”

  “Like hell.” She reached up and brushed his cheek. “It’s a good thing you’re a pilot, because you could never make it as an actor.”

  “You don’t think so?”

  She shook her head. “But that’s okay. I like that I can tell when you’re worried about me.”

  “That’s not the only thing I’m thinking about.”

  “I can tell that, too,” she said, her smile broadening. “Only it wasn’t the look in your eyes that tipped me off.” She moved her hips against him to illustrate her point.

  “Do that again, and you’ll really see something.”

  She laughed, and he felt a flush of pride wash over him. Almost strong enough to combat his desire, although not quite. He’d helped her through whatever that was. The tears were gone, and that was because of him.

  So, this pregnancy thing wasn’t so hard. He thought of Carlo, and all his words of warning. That pregnant women become unpredictable, moody, unfathomable. Clearly Carlo just didn’t have the touch. The trick was to listen carefully, that’s all. To be patient.

  “Let me finish my hair,” Jessica said as she turned to face the mirror once more. She picked up the brush. “Where are we going to dinner?”

  He moved back to give her room. “I thought we’d go to the Bicycle Shop Café.”

  She nodded as she pulled the brush through her hair. Nick got caught in the rhythm of her movements. He’d like to do that for her sometime. Feel that soft mane of hair in his hands. There were so many things he wanted to do with Jessica.

  “I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to eat,” she said, “but I’ll try.”

  “You still don’t feel well, eh?”

  She put her brush down. “Nope. I probably won’t until the second trimester.”

  He moved toward her again, and this time he wrapped his arms around her waist so he could rub her stomach. It was still so flat it was hard to believe there was a baby inside. It did feel good, though. Her body pleased him very much. Not so skinny as to be on a magazine cover, but a real woman’s figure.

  “There you go again,” she said, sighing. “Trying to distract me.”

  He laid his chin on her shoulder while he continued his impromptu massage. “We could call out for food. Get
a pizza.”

  She shuddered. “Oh, no. I don’t think I could handle that.”

  “The pizza? Or staying in?”

  She put her hands on his, just as he was moving them down below her belly. “Either.”

  He frowned.

  “Tonight,” she added.

  He stood up and let her go. “All right. But as soon as you feel better...”

  “You’ll be the first to know.”

  “Good.”

  “I’ll get my purse.”

  He couldn’t help but smile as he followed her to the living room. So he didn’t get everything he wanted. There was no rush. The important thing was that she had stopped crying. That she felt nice again, cheerful.

  “All set,” she said, turning off the kitchen light.

  He opened the door for her. Then he remembered. “Oh, Jessica, my mother is coming in two days. She couldn’t wait to meet her future daughter-in-law.”

  Jessica stopped, looked at him and burst into tears.

  IT HAD BEEN A LONG NIGHT. Jessica had chased Nick out when she couldn’t stop crying. He’d protested, but when he finally left, she felt sure he was relieved. She hated this. Hated having her emotions be so rocky. She felt vulnerable, and perhaps that was the worst thing of all. She’d finally fallen into an exhausted sleep, but when she’d woken this morning, she still felt unsettled.

  The phone rang, and she knew it was Nick before she picked it up.

  “Are you feeling better?”

  “Yes, Nick. Thank you. I’m fine.”

  “Good. Then you can come with me today?”

  “To do what?”

  “You need to know everything? Maybe I just want to spend some time with you, eh?”

  “I don’t trust you,” she said. “You’ve got something planned. Something you’re afraid to tell me.”

  He laughed. “Where is the Jessica who climbed the trellis? Who came barefoot into my bedroom?”

  “She’s clearly back in Rome, because this Jessica isn’t going to go outside her door without knowing what you’ve got on your mind.”

  She heard him sigh. “Please. For me.”

  “All right.”