A Marine for Christmas

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A Marine for Christmas Page 12

by Beth Andrews


  J.C.’s head snapped back. “I…I didn’t orchestrate anything.” But…but hadn’t she let him talk her out of speaking with Aidan? And then she’d jumped at the chance he’d offered to sell her chocolates at the Diamond Dust. She’d even spent the evening with him pairing the wine and chocolates after he’d been so ugly to her. “He just happened to be working—”

  “Isn’t that how it always is with you? Things just happen.”

  J.C. winced as she remembered how she’d tried to explain why she and Brady had gotten together.

  It just sort of…happened.

  “I didn’t even know he was going to be here,” J.C. insisted.

  “You’ve always wanted whatever I had,” Liz said, her hushed voice sounding thick. “And Brady is no different.”

  J.C.’s scalp tingled and she snuck a look over her shoulder. She edged closer to her sister. “I don’t want Brady.”

  “Even if you did, he’s not the right guy for you. You deserve someone who’ll put you first.”

  She knew that. She didn’t need Liz and her condescending attitude to remind her.

  “Because no way a man could possibly want me after they were with you,” she said, her hands fisted. “Mediocrity just doesn’t cut it after you’ve had perfection, right?”

  Liz blushed. “I didn’t say that.”

  And then, Brady was there, his hands on her shoulders. “Your husband’s waiting for you,” he told Liz. “You’d better go.”

  Liz blinked several times, but J.C. caught the sheen of tears in her eyes before her sister walked off.

  For several heartbeats, J.C. didn’t move.

  Brady squeezed her shoulders. “You okay?” he asked, his mouth close to her ear.

  She cringed. As if he gave a damn. As if his whole show of support hadn’t been for her sister’s benefit. It was as fake as Liz’s so-called concern.

  Trembling with anger, with humiliation, she jerked away from him. “Do me a favor. The next time you want to try to make my sister jealous, leave me out of it.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  WELL AWARE OF THE INTEREST they were getting from the people left in the store, Brady wrapped an arm around J.C.’s waist. Though she stiffened, she didn’t fight him as he led her down a short hallway and into the stockroom. They’d no sooner stepped inside when she twisted away from him.

  “Is there a problem?” he asked.

  She stared at him incredulously. “You used me as some sort of…of…” She glanced around, as if she’d pick the right word out of the air. “Tool…to get back at Liz. Did you think she’d toss Carter aside and jump into your arms because of me? I hate to break it to you, but I’m the last person Liz would ever be jealous of.”

  How he’d stepped on this landmine, he had no clue. He hadn’t been playing games and he sure as hell hadn’t been trying to make Liz jealous.

  He scratched the underside of his jaw. Playing hero brought a man nothing but grief.

  Sure, he may have felt a slight surge of satisfaction at Liz’s reaction to him coming to J.C.’s aid. But that only proved he was human.

  And not as dead inside as he’d like.

  “I don’t want to get back at Liz,” he said.

  “Then what was with all that touchy-feely stuff? You deliberately made it seem as if there was something going on between us.”

  “By telling her she should leave?”

  “You touched my shoulders,” she said with as much indignation as if he had pinched her butt.

  Behind him, someone rapped lightly on the still-open door.

  “Sorry to…interrupt,” Pam said curiously, glancing between them, “but I need to get—”

  “Later,” Brady said before shutting the door and leaning against it.

  No doubt when Aidan heard about it, he’d rip Brady for being so rude to a valued employee.

  “Your fight was starting to draw a lot of attention,” he said with what he considered remarkable calm in the face of her irrationality. “I thought it best to intervene before it came to blows.”

  “We weren’t fighting. We were…having a discussion. A private discussion that you were eavesdropping on.”

  “Seeing how I was the main topic, I’d say I had a right to overhear.”

  You’ve always wanted whatever I had.

  I don’t want Brady.

  J.C. rubbed her temples. “She hates me.”

  Impossible. Liz had always doted on her little sister. She’d been J.C.’s biggest champion.

  He shrugged. “She’s pissed. She’ll get over it.”

  “That’s a big help,” J.C. said acidly. “Thanks so much.”

  “You want a shoulder to cry on,” he said before he could stop himself, “try your brother-in-law.”

  She looked at him as if he was a few rounds short of a full clip. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  Damn it. Maybe his paranoia was getting worse. How else to explain him taking issue with J.C. cozying up to Liz’s husband? Just because she’d been thrilled to see him and had asked Brady to back off when he’d been itching to take the guy down a peg didn’t mean anything. It certainly couldn’t mean that Liz had been right about J.C. wanting whatever her sister had.

  Even if she had told that bastard about her doctor’s appointment Tuesday. An appointment Brady had no idea about.

  “You’re tired…” Didn’t pregnant women get tired easily? And cranky? And blow things out of proportion? “Why don’t we finish packing up your stuff then I’ll drive you home.”

  “I don’t need your help getting my stuff together and I sure don’t want you taking me home.”

  Damn but she was stubborn. And starting to seriously tick him off. “You shouldn’t drive when you’re so upset.”

  “I’ve been upset before,” she said as she stalked toward him, “and unfortunately, I’ll be upset again. But I’m still capable of taking care of myself.”

  In other words, he could take his help and shove it.

  He opened the door and stepped aside so she could pass. He watched her walk away, her hair bouncing to her long strides, her arms swinging.

  I don’t want Brady.

  Looked like the Montgomery sisters had more in common than anyone realized.

  “I WAS THINKING we’d try that new salmon recipe tonight,” Liz told Carter as she set the last of the bulging cloth grocery bags on the kitchen table. “Unless you think it’s too cold for grilling.”

  “That’s fine,” he said, not even pausing as he carried the dry cleaning into the living room.

  She squeezed the package of salmon fillets. If he’d at least try to keep up his end of the conversation, maybe she wouldn’t have to continue with her inane chatter. The sound of her own voice was grating on her last nerve. But she couldn’t shut up, either. Not when the silence was so tense. So…uncomfortable.

  Not when she was afraid of what Carter would say if she’d stop talking long enough for him to get a word in edgewise.

  Laying a loaf of French bread aside, she unpacked the baked chips and organic eggs. He’d been fine all day. They’d slept in, enjoyed a leisurely brunch at their favorite restaurant and then ran their errands. Up until they’d gone to the Diamond Dust, Carter had been…himself.

  Lips pursed, she shook her head as she stacked yogurt containers in the fridge. Naturally he’d been upset about seeing Brady. She never would’ve guessed he’d be at the gift shop, let alone hovering over J.C. If she had, she would’ve put up a bigger fight about going there. But Carter had insisted she at least take a hold of the olive branch J.C. had extended with her daily phone calls. Though Liz wasn’t ready to make peace yet, she hadn’t wanted Carter to think her resistance had anything to do with Brady.

  Rinsing the salmon at the sink, she heard Carter’s footsteps as he came back into the kitchen.

  “I’ll make the marinade,” she said, laying the fillets on a clean towel, “and you can put together a salad. And do you want rice or potatoes?”

 
; He came up behind her and shut the water off.

  She laughed nervously. “What are you—”

  “We need to talk.”

  Her stomach dropped at his serious tone, his carefully schooled expression. She kept smiling. “If we want to make it to that movie…” But he just continued to watch her. She couldn’t escape what was going to happen next. “All right.”

  Taking her time, she patted the salmon dry and set it in a plate. After washing her hands, she put the fish in the fridge.

  Carter sat at the table, his hands in his lap as he stared out the window above the sink. The evening was darkening.

  What had she done? She’d been careful, so very careful, not to show any reaction to finding Brady and J.C. together.

  She pulled out the chair opposite him.

  “Honey, what is it?” she asked, certain she’d be better off not knowing. “What’s wrong?”

  He dug something out of his pocket then laid it in the center of the table between them.

  A small velvet blue box.

  Brady’s ring.

  Her lungs squeezed painfully and she couldn’t draw a full breath. “Where… How…”

  “Mr. Sandburg found it in your coat,” Carter said quietly.

  She shut her eyes. While she’d run into the pharmacy for a few items, Carter had gone next door to pick up their dry cleaning. Including her brown leather jacket, the one she’d been wearing when she’d gone to see Brady.

  Sitting on the edge of her seat, she leaned forward. “It’s not what you think.”

  “What is it I think?”

  “I…I’m not sure. Maybe you see my having that ring as a way of holding on to…to him.”

  He linked his hands together on top of the table. “Is it?”

  “No. No of course not. I…I was giving it back—”

  “You were carrying it around with you in case you bumped into him?”

  Her vision blurred and she blinked furiously. “I saw him last week,” she whispered.

  His body twitched. “When?”

  “Monday.”

  “You weren’t going to tell me.”

  “I didn’t want to upset you.” She reached out but he slid his hands back to his lap. “I tried to give him the ring but he wouldn’t take it so I…I stuck it in my pocket. That’s all. Look, it’s so insignificant, I forgot it was even there.”

  She held her breath. He remained motionless, his face drawn. Had she thought his anger at Thanksgiving was bad? She’d take it any day over this.

  “I saw how you looked at him.”

  Her blood chilled. “What?”

  “Today. You kept watching him.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “And at the end, when he came up behind J.C., when he stood so close to her, you were upset.”

  “I was…I hadn’t realized they were there…” And that shock, along with her hurt and anger, had almost brought her to her knees. “That they were…together.”

  That it seemed as if they were together. Or could be.

  Carter wiped a hand over his mouth. “It might not seem like it, but I’m trying to understand why you can’t let this thing between Brady and your sister go. Why it upsets you so much.”

  Tears ran down her cheeks. She knuckled them away. “I don’t know.”

  “If I thought it was just the fact that she was with your ex, it’d be different but…” He shook his head. “There’s more to it than that.”

  “No. I—”

  “You kept his ring. You went to see him without telling me.” Carter’s voice turned gravelly. “You look at him the same way you look at me. The way you’re only supposed to look at me.”

  Stunned, tears running unheeded down her cheeks, she watched as he walked out the door. She wished she could call him back. Tell him that she needed some more time to adjust to…everything. But she’d be lying. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to accept J.C. having Brady’s baby. Or Brady being a part of her sister’s life.

  And because of that, she couldn’t even tell her husband what he needed to hear most. That he was the only man she loved.

  J.C. ARRIVED FIVE MINUTES LATE for her appointment with Dr. Owens on Tuesday to find the waiting room filled with women of all ages. Several were way more pregnant than her, and two had recently given birth—as evidenced by the newborns in their arms and their post-baby bodies. To her left, a middle-aged woman read a pamphlet on improving your sex life after menopause. And all of them were shooting glances at the corner.

  She followed their gazes…and tripped over her own feet. Brady Sheppard, his left leg out straight, his hands linked on his flat stomach, watched her steadily.

  Unreal.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “Waiting for you.”

  “Why?”

  “I didn’t want you to have to do this alone.”

  Her jaw dropped. This as in her doctor’s appointment? Or could he possibly mean…? No. He’d made his stance about the baby very clear. And seeing as how he hadn’t so much as mentioned her pregnancy recently, she doubted he’d changed his mind. That he’d ever change his mind.

  “How did you even know I have an appointment today?” she asked.

  He tipped his head to the side. “I heard you and your brother-in-law talking about it at the gift shop.”

  She switched her purse strap to her other shoulder. “It’s…nice…of you to…think of me but I won’t be alone. My mom is supposed to meet me.”

  He sat up. “I’ll wait until she gets here.”

  “Oh, but—”

  “Jane?” Rhonda Darcy, her round body stuffed into an impossibly cheerful set of Snoopy scrubs, stood in the doorway leading to the examination rooms. “Come on back, hon, and we’ll get your vitals.”

  “You don’t have to stay,” J.C. told Brady.

  She didn’t want him to stay, she told herself as she followed Rhonda down the hallway to a small, windowless room. Not after how he’d acted at the gift shop. Not when he’d heard what Liz had said to her. How her sister had practically accused her of throwing herself at Brady.

  As if she’d throw away her relationship with her sister for a man. A man who didn’t even want her.

  “Weight first,” Rhonda said.

  J.C. toed off her shoes and stepped onto the scale. Staring straight ahead, she could see Rhonda’s hand moving the lever to the right but couldn’t make out the numbers.

  And if Rhonda so much as breathed what those numbers were, J.C. might resort to violence.

  Rhonda noted J.C.’s weight in a small laptop. “Hop on down.” She gestured for J.C. to sit in the chair next to a metal table where she sat to put her shoes back on. “I’m sure glad we didn’t call the police on your young man out there.”

  J.C. about fell right off the chair. “Did…did he do something wrong?”

  He hadn’t seemed drunk but their conversation had been brief. And as she’d learned, he didn’t need alcohol to say incredibly stupid things.

  “All that boy did was wait.” She moved J.C.’s hair aside and checked her temperature with an ear thermometer. “Even when Missy told him she couldn’t give out your appointment time, he just thanked her and took a seat. Didn’t kick up a fuss like some folks would. But after two hours, Dr. Owens started getting nervous about him being here so long.”

  “Wait,” J.C. said, her head coming up in surprise. Two hours? “How long has he been waiting?”

  Rhonda wrapped the blood pressure cuff around J.C.’s arm. “He showed up right when we opened at nine.”

  While Rhonda took her blood pressure, J.C.’s head spun. Nine. It was now after four. Brady Sheppard had spent the entire day sitting in her obstetrician’s waiting room.

  For her.

  “Anyway,” Rhonda continued, hooking her stethoscope around her neck, “The doctor pointed out how you might not want him here and maybe we should call the police to escort him home. Which we can certainly do if that’s what you’d prefe
r.”

  “No.” She cleared her throat. “No, he’s…fine. He’s…”

  Rhonda took a hold of J.C.’s wrist. “With both Missy and I knowing him—Missy went to school with one of his brothers, and Diane Sheppard and I go way back—so we convinced Dr. Owens he wasn’t hurting anyone.”

  Hurting anyone, no. Confusing the hell out of her? Definitely.

  Rhonda finished checking her pulse and sent her back out to wait for the doctor. J.C. walked down the hall. Just because Brady showed up here didn’t mean anything. She wouldn’t let herself read more into it than a sign he was curious about the baby. Or that he was crushed over her being upset with him, and he’d wanted to make amends.

  She snorted softly. That would be the day.

  And since she’d told him to leave, she doubted she’d ever find out.

  She opened the door and sure enough, his seat was empty. But, as she stepped out of the exam room, she saw that it was only because Brady was on his feet, his expression pained as he faced her parents.

  J.C. hurried over and stepped between them. “Mom. You made it.” She winced at her own false cheeriness. “Hi, Dad. I hope Mom didn’t drag you away from the office early.”

  “Your father insisted he wanted to be here,” her mom said, equally chipper. Equally false. “Isn’t that nice, dear?”

  “Great,” she croaked.

  “It’s not every day a man’s baby girl gets to see the ultrasound of her own baby,” Don said gruffly, glancing at her.

  “Daddy…” She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.

  But when she fell back to her heels, his expression hardened. “Move aside, Jane. Brady was about to explain what he’s doing here.”

  As much as she’d love to hear that as well, she didn’t want to hold this particular discussion in the middle of one of Jewell’s busiest doctor’s office.

  “Now, Don,” Nancy said. “I’m sure Jane asked him to be here.”

  They both looked at her. She felt Brady’s gaze, too, burning a hole in the back of her head. All of their expectations weighing down on her.

  “Yes,” she said. “I did. Ask him, that is.” And while that might not be true, her next words were. “I want Brady to go in with me for the ultrasound.”

 

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