Because Carson was suddenly watching her way too closely, eyes sharp and assessing.
Her hand was shaking. Slowly, she lowered her fork to her plate.
He suggested, way too gently, “Right now would be a great time to reassure me that it’s not true.”
Chapter Twelve
Carson waited for her to laugh and tell him that he really shouldn’t jump to conclusions.
But she didn’t laugh. She just went on staring at him through wide, haunted eyes, her linguine-wrapped fork abandoned on her plate.
Finally, in a voice that came out sounding way more freaked than he meant it to, he demanded, “It’s true, then?”
Those thick dark lashes lowered. He watched her draw a careful breath and then let it out with agonizing slowness. Finally, she looked at him again. “Yes. It’s true.” She said the words flatly. Quietly.
Still, they echoed in his head like a shout. “But I don’t...” He had no idea what he was trying to say. He took another crack at it. “So it was the night of the moonshine? You’re saying Homer had it right?” He still couldn’t believe it.
“Yes.”
How was this even possible? He struggled to process. “But...the condoms, the morning-after pill...”
One slim shoulder lifted in a sad little half shrug. And then she craned across the booth toward him and insisted in a hot, angry whisper, “I did take that pill. I swear I did.”
“Whoa. Hold on.”
“What do you mean, hold on?” She was still whispering, but each word came out sharp and furiously clear. “I didn’t ask for this, Carson. I did everything in my power to prevent it—well, except not to drink Homer’s moonshine. I really should have thought twice before I did that.”
“Stop. Listen. I’m not blaming you for getting pregnant. I believe you took that pill.”
“Then why did you say—”
He cut her off with a wave of his hand. “Look. It’s kind of a shock, okay?”
She sagged back into the red pleather seat. “Well, all right. I hear that.” She picked up her fork—and then put it back down again. It clattered against her plate. “Suddenly I don’t feel much like eating.”
Neither did he. And he had a question he had to get an answer to. “Were you ever planning to tell me?”
“Of course.”
He was far from convinced. “When?”
She winced—and made her answer into another question. “Over dessert?”
“Dessert,” he echoed, remembering all the days she hadn’t called him, recalling the day just past, when she’d kissed him and held him and they’d had it out over the job at IMI. So many chances she’d had to tell him.
And she hadn’t.
“Carson, I...” She started to reach out. He stiffened, not ready for her touch, not willing to be soothed by her. She saw him flinch and dropped her hand. “I promise you, I was getting to it. I really was.”
“Getting to it how?”
“I’m not really sure. But I was working up to it. I was.”
He drank some more Chianti, noticing for the first time that her glass was still full. And come to think of it, what about that champagne she wouldn’t drink in LA the evening after the interview with IMI? And what about the way she just stopped talking to him then, no matter how hard he knocked himself out to convince her to let him in? “You’ve known since LA,” he accused.
“I—”
“Don’t you lie to me, Tessa. Don’t you dare.”
“Fine. All right, I suspected something then. My period was late. But I didn’t take a test until I got home.”
He just shook his head. “I thought we’d really made progress. I thought you were finally opening up to me today when we talked about that damn job you wouldn’t take with IMI. I thought we were getting down to the crap that really matters. And then I took you to bed.” He couldn’t get over that. “We went to bed—and still you didn’t tell me.”
“Carson, I—”
“Do you trust me at all?”
“I’m trying.”
“Uh-uh. Wait a minute.” He jabbed an index finger in her direction. “This is it, isn’t it? This is the real reason you didn’t call me when you turned down the IMI job. This is the real reason you finally did call. You’re holding all the information, and I’m in the dark, sitting here thinking how we’ve gotten past a rough patch and now I’m feeling so close to you...”
“I didn’t blow you off. I was just waiting for the right time, that’s all.”
“From my side of the table, Tessa, I can see a long series of right times, none of which you took. On the contrary, you waited. You saved it up to tell me in a restaurant, in public, instead of earlier when at least we were alone and didn’t have to have this out in whispers.”
Her soft mouth trembled. She drew herself up. “All right. Yes, I should have gotten to it sooner. I made it seem like my issue was only about the job with IMI, just like you said. I made you think we’d worked through the problem when I hadn’t even told you the real problem. And then, well, you kissed me and I kissed you and all I wanted was to be with you, to make love with you and forget about the future and how to tell you that there was a baby—about how and when and where to go from here. Okay, maybe getting to it here at the restaurant was a bad choice. But I wouldn’t have let the night go by without telling you. It’s why I called you and said we needed to talk. It’s huge and I know it and I...well, now it’s all blown up in my face. But you really do need to know everything.”
He jerked up straight, every nerve at attention. “What the hell. There’s more?”
“Stop looking at me like that. I just mean you should also know I’m keeping this baby. I want this baby no matter how bad a mother I’m going to turn out to be and—” She made a soft little sound, something midway between a moan and whimper. “God. I don’t know. What else is there to say right now? I’m pregnant and I’m keeping it and that’s about the size of it.”
He could not sit there for one second longer. Not without picking up his plate and throwing his half-finished chicken Parmesan at the empty booth across the way. He slapped his napkin onto the table and slid from the booth. “Do not move. I’ll be right back.”
“Carson, please try to—”
“I need a minute.”
“Carson—”
He didn’t want to hear it, refused to hang around and listen to her next excuse. He turned his back on her and headed for the men’s room.
There was nobody in there. Thank God for small favors. He splashed water on his face and stared at himself in the mirror over the sinks.
“A father...” He blinked at himself in disbelief and then scoffed at his dripping face. “You. A dad.” He swore low, a string of harsh words, as he whipped a few paper towels from the dispenser and wiped the water off.
He’d never planned to be a dad.
But then, he hadn’t planned on Tessa, either. He was one of those guys who’d thought he’d learned his lesson when his marriage failed. He’d spent years purposely never getting all that deeply involved.
Until Tessa.
One look at her and not getting involved went right out the window. Insta-love, insta-lust. Whatever it was, he’d known at the first sight of her that she was a game changer.
But a kid?
He hadn’t bargained on a kid. He tossed the towels in the trash bin and stared at himself in the mirror some more as the shock of it faded.
Yeah, he was still seriously pissed at her for the way she’d handled this.
Which was not to handle it at all.
But he was also starting to get that itchy feeling at the back of his neck, the one that told him he’d behaved badly.
Worse than badly.
Like a complete ass.
Still, she’d kept it from him. And that really got to him. For the first time in years, he wanted more than a good time from a woman. He wanted her to talk to him, to trust in him. But she hadn’t.
And that made him want to break something big and heavy—something that would make a lot of noise as it shattered.
It really wasn’t like him, to lose it like this. He ran a string of successful companies. He knew how to keep himself in check.
Except, apparently, when it came to Tessa.
Tessa and their baby.
Our baby.
My God.
He bent over the sink again and splashed more cold water on his face, dried off for the second time and raked his hair in place with his fingers. Then he retucked his shirt and straightened his jacket.
Ready as he’d ever be—which was to say, not ready at all.
But he had to get back to her. He wouldn’t put it past her to get up and walk out. Because she’d screwed up by not telling him, by lying about it and insisting that nothing was wrong. And he’d been a jerk when the truth finally came out. Who knew what she thought of him right at this moment?
Parents. They were going to be parents. God help the poor kid.
He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until he came out of the hallway from the men’s room and saw that she was still in the booth. Good. He got over there fast and slid in across from her.
But his moment of relief didn’t last. The first words out of her mouth were, “I’ve had enough for tonight, Carson. Please take me back to the boardinghouse now.”
He quelled the urge to argue. She looked tired, worn-out. And he needed some time to process all this, time to figure out how to work through this with her. He might be shocked all to hell to learn he was going to be a father, but she’d been carrying the burden of that truth for weeks now. She was the pregnant one, the one who needed a little tender care and understanding—neither of which he’d provided so far.
“Tessa, I—”
She didn’t let him finish. “Please. No more tonight. I just can’t take it right now.”
* * *
Carson spent that night alone in his suite at Maverick Manor. He never went to bed. He watched bad late-night television without paying attention.
And he thought about Tessa and the baby and what he would do.
By morning, everything was clear. He got online and chose a ring, then called his assistant at home. She promised to get the ring from Cartier and get it to him overnight. The size would probably be wrong, but he could have it fixed in a matter of a day or two. If he was taking a knee, it seemed important that there be a ring, and a gorgeous one, even if it didn’t quite fit.
Once the ring was handled, he called Tessa. She answered, which he decided to take as a good sign.
“Hi.” Her voice was soft, a little sleepy. Something inside him ached in a way that was both painful and sweet. “You’re up early.”
“I didn’t sleep. I’ve been thinking.”
“Yeah.” She made a soft sound—a sigh, a stifled yawn? “It’s a lot to take in—I know.”
“I want to see you. I promise not to be an ass.”
Another sound that might have been a husky little chuckle. God, he hoped so. “Good to know. And yeah. We still need to talk.”
“How about breakfast? If you come here, there’s room service.” He braced to be more convincing when she said no.
But then she said, “Half an hour, I’ll be there.”
“I’ll order ahead. What do you want?”
“Poached eggs and toast and maybe some fresh fruit?”
“You got it.”
* * *
She smiled when he opened the door, a weary little smile. He wanted to pull her close for a kiss, stroke her hair, rub her back. But that seemed wrong, somehow, after all that had gone down the night before. They needed to make up officially, before there could be kissing.
Didn’t they?
The food arrived a couple of minutes after she did. The living area of the suite had a table with four chairs. They sat there. He spooned eggs Benedict into his mouth, hardly tasting it, not knowing how to begin.
This was hard. Wanting her so much, knowing from the first that she was someone special. And yeah, okay, they both had issues, but didn’t everybody? He’d set his sights on working through them. And then it had all gone wrong so suddenly when she stopped talking to him during her visit to LA. Yesterday, he’d just started to let himself think they were getting somewhere.
And then he found out about the baby.
Everything felt backward. They should have had more time to find their way as a couple before something like this happened. Neither of them had been thinking about having kids.
In fact, as he recalled, they’d both agreed that they were hopeless with babies—which was just fine because neither of them planned to have any.
Damn Homer Gilmore and his magic moonshine. Damn him to hell and back.
She spooned up berries from her fruit bowl—and then dropped them back in the bowl again. “Carson, I feel so terrible about all of this.”
“Don’t,” he said, taking care, as he hadn’t the night before, to speak gently, to use an affectionate tone. “Don’t feel terrible. Just eat. Then we’ll talk.” He braced for her comeback.
But there wasn’t one. She stuck her spoon back in the berries and got to work finishing her meal.
Twenty minutes later, they moved to the seating area. She took the sofa. He got the club chair.
Just like yesterday.
Today it was his turn to open with an apology. “I really was a jerk last night. I’m sorry.”
She gave him a gentle smile and proceeded to be a lot more gracious than he’d been. “It’s all right. It was a shocker, and I made a mess of telling you—or not telling you I guess is more accurate. But it’s done now. You know about the baby. We can move on. And I, well, honestly, Carson. You don’t have to worry.”
He frowned at her. “I should be worried?”
“Well, I mean, I wouldn’t blame you for wondering if I’m after your money.”
He let out a sharp bark of laughter. “Come on. You wouldn’t even let me find you a great job. You’re the most independent woman I know. Not to mention you’ve got an excess of foolish pride.”
“I’m only saying that I don’t expect anything of you—I promise.”
I don’t expect anything. He didn’t like the sound of that. “That’s garbage. You damn well should expect things of me. You should expect everything of me.” He said it a little more forcefully than he meant to.
She fiddled with the collar of the silky blue shirt she wore. “Well, fine. You seem pretty sure of all this. What should I expect of you? What does ‘everything’ mean?”
He reminded himself to speak quietly, reasonably. “I can tell you what I expect.”
“Thank you. Please do.”
“I want to take care of you. I want us to be together. That’s what I expect, and you damn well should, too.”
She looked at him sideways. “Together as in...?”
He’d jumped ahead. He knew he had. He shouldn’t be saying this today. He needed to wait for the ring, at least. And a better understanding between them probably wouldn’t hurt, either. Right now, they were just supposed to be healing the wounds they’d dealt each other yesterday and the two weeks before that. “Okay, I’m rushing things.”
She hugged her arms around herself. “Carson, I’m not following.”
He hated the damn coffee ta
ble. Twice now it had stood between them. He rose. “Come over here.” When she only gazed up at him, bewildered, he reached across and captured her wrist. She allowed him to take it, though somewhat reluctantly. “Over here.” He tugged her up off the cushions and led her to the center of the room where no furniture was in the way. As soon as he had the space for it, he dropped to one knee.
By then, she knew what was coming. “Oh, Carson.” Her mouth twisted as she stared down at him.
He should knock this off. Now. But it just wasn’t in him to back down at this point. He had to take a crack at getting a yes out of her up front, at cutting through all the yada yada and sealing the deal. Once he got her commitment, they could work through all the rest. “Marry me, Tessa. You’re all I think about. You’re all I want. I’m crazy for you—and yeah. I know it’s fast. I know it’s scary. I know if I said that I loved you right now, you probably wouldn’t believe me. So I won’t say it, okay? I won’t say it yet. But won’t you just take a chance on me? If you’ll only say yes, we can make it work. I know we can.”
For a moment, he actually thought he’d done it. He knew she would say yes.
But then she dropped to her knees in front of him, which put her as close to eye to eye with him as possible, given his extra height. Now they knelt together in the center of the room.
“Tessa?” he asked, as she took his face between her hands. He didn’t think he liked where this was going somehow. But it did feel good, her soft palms against his skin. Her cheeks had gone bright pink, and her eyes gleamed with what might have been tears.
Or, just possibly, laughter.
“You haven’t mentioned the baby,” she whispered downright tenderly.
“The baby.” It came out gruff. “Of course, the baby. That’s why we need to get this going, get it together. We need to be married so we can deal with all our crap and be ready to be actual parents when the baby comes.”
She feathered her fingers along the hair at his temples. That felt terrific. What she said next? Not so much. “You’ve mentioned more than once that you never wanted children.”
He turned his face into her hand and pressed a kiss to the heart of her palm. “And you’ve said the same to me.”
Marriage, Maverick Style! Page 15