He settled his soon-to-be-nephew in the crook of his arm and whirled, instinctively seeking out Ellie. But when their eyes met, his smile faltered. She stared at him, her lips parted and her eyes dark and intense. He cocked his head, his smile fading away entirely as he tried to get a read on her thoughts.
“Uh-oh, she’s got that look,” Laurie murmured.
“You okay?” Jack asked.
“Run, Jack. Run,” Ellie’s sister urged on a laugh.
“El?”
On his prompt, Ellie’s lashes fluttered then lowered, a dark veil dropping into place a moment too late to conceal the speculative glitter in their depths. “I’m fine.”
The croak in her voice told a different story. Oblivious to the sticky hand patting his cheek, Jack came to a stop in front of her. “Elfie?” Brendan hit his cue like a stage veteran, lunging from Jack to Ellie with the confidence of a child whose feet rarely touched ground. Her eyes came up with her hands. Their gazes met and held as he transferred the warm, wiggly weight to her. “I’m gonna have to be old fashioned about that.”
“Old fashioned about what?”
“Wedding first.”
Ellie eyed him warily. “Wedding first? What do you mean?”
“He means he doesn’t want to be your baby daddy.” Laurie shoved a cold bottle of beer into Jack’s hand. “Smart man. Make her marry you before you give it up.”
“Laura Ann Nichols!” All heads swiveled in the direction of the stove. Gayle glowered at her younger daughter and waved a dripping wooden spoon menacingly. “You’re never too old, young lady.”
“I was only complimenting Jack on his moral fortitude.” Laurie’s eyes widened with innocence even as a wicked grin stretched her mouth. Shifting her attention to her sister, she raised her eyebrows. “You heard the man. If you like it, then you gotta put a ring on it.”
“On that note.” Jack sidestepped the sisters. “I’ll be in here fending off your grandmother’s advances. Who knows, she might make me a better offer.”
He made it two steps past them before a chorus of groans rose from the den. He glanced over his shoulder in time to catch all three of the Nichols women eyeing his backside speculatively. His attempt to shame them into better behavior backfired when he returned Brendan’s backwards wave with a few finger curls of his own, and Ellie’s elfin smirk dissolved into slack-jawed hunger. A keen sense of self-preservation had him ducking quickly into the den, but one look at Ellie’s grandmother had him cursing the quicksand beneath his feet.
Bernadette Harrigan was no bigger than a sparrow, but the woman knew how to dominate a room. Her hair was dyed a violent red and teased higher than a wedding cake. The lipstick she wore was even redder and arced well beyond the stingy boundaries of her natural lip line. Twin spots of pink rouge colored her cheeks, but the twinkle in her emerald eyes was all natural. The tufted recliner she sat on seemed to swallow her whole, but Jack knew that frail daintiness was nothing more than a carefully cultivated illusion. Outside of this house, he was a big, tough guy with a gun and a set of credentials that made grown men nervous. Here, he was nothing but prey.
“Hello, handsome,” she purred. Her gnarled fingers were heavily jeweled and restless. She smoothed the butter-soft leather with her palm then gave it a pat. “It’s about time you two got here. Had to get a little something extra in before running the holiday gauntlet, did you?”
Laurie’s husband, Matt, grimaced but hid his distaste by taking a healthy pull at his beer bottle. Ellie’s father simply glared at his mother-in-law. Jack opted to breeze right past the comment. Advancing into the room, he extended his hand to his future father-in-law.
“Mr. Nichols, nice to see you again.”
The older man stood and accepted the handshake with his usual economy of words. “Jack. Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Matt.”
“Jack.”
Greetings exhausted, Jack shook hands with the other man then stepped back, assessing the seat situation as they settled in again. Marcus and Matt kept their attention riveted on the televised football game. He did his best not to squirm under Bernadette’s speculative stare.
“They aren’t going to save you,” she said at last.
He exhaled a silent sigh and struggled to keep his expression friendly but neutral as he turned to face the devilish old woman. “Beg your pardon, Miz Harrigan?”
Brazen hussy red lips parted to expose a set of startlingly white dentures. “Oh, I love it when you talk all Rhett Butler to me.” She nodded to the love seat beside her chair. “Have a seat. I won’t bite.”
Resigned to his fate, Jack acquiesced while shooting a lethal look at his soon-to-be brother-in-law. Fixing a pleasant smile on his face, he turned his attention to her. “You look well.”
“Fit as a fiddle,” she declared. “Much to old Marcus’ dismay,” she added in a stage whisper.
Ellie’s father rolled his eyes but refused to rise to the bait.
“So…you think she’ll actually marry you?”
Jack thought he was ready for her this visit, but he was wrong. There was no way any man could brace himself for an encounter with Ellie’s grandmother. He doubted Kevlar could even do the trick. Desperate, Jack fell back on the most reliable tricks in his arsenal: flirtation served in a syrupy drawl.
“I do believe she will.”
“Others have tried,” she persisted.
Jack fought a smile. He knew all about Ellie’s past relationships. No one had ever come close to being where he was today. Suddenly, Jack found himself grateful to be trapped in a room with Ellie’s passive brother-in-law, silent father, and handsy busybody of a grandmother. A smile tugged his lips as he tried to convince himself that he was no one’s prey, but rather a trailblazer of sorts.
Leaning on the arm of the love seat, he released his hold on his smile. “Now, Miz Harrigan, we both know those fellas wouldn’t know a good thing if it bounced up and punched them square in the jaw.”
He made sure he smiled wide enough to flash the dimple Ellie loved so much. He knew exactly what impact it would have. Like it or not, his Ellie was a chip off this feisty little block. Sure enough, her grandmother reacted the same way when he turned the full force of happiness on her. She melted.
The sharp speculation in her eyes softened to a wistful mist as she held out her hand for him to take. “I’m rich as Midas, you know,” she confided.
Ellie’s father snorted, but both he and Matt kept their gazes riveted on the television. Jack picked at the label of his beer bottle with his thumbnail. “Are you?” The tremor of nervousness in his tone made him cringe inside, but it was too late to suppress it. He darted a glance at the tiny tyrant in the oversized chair and tried to joke his way past it. “Will you buy me a pony for Christmas?”
The attempt garnered him another toothy grin. Jack felt a tingle at the base of his spine. The twinkle in her eye told him the old lady knew she had him at her mercy. “No, but I will buy you a nice plane ticket.”
Jack blinked, startled by the old woman’s sledgehammer approach. “Plane ticket? Are you trying to get rid of me?”
Matt sprang from the sofa. “Who wants a beer?” Skirting the outstretched footrest of the recliner, he nodded to Jack as he passed. “I’ll bring you another beer.”
Bewildered, Jack tried to get his bearings by focusing on the one variable he had in hand. “I just started on this one,” he called after him.
“We’re on a seven minute beer schedule,” Marcus announced gruffly. He cast a sympathetic eye in Jack’s direction then returned his attention to the screen. “Better for everyone that way.”
“Now you see what you’re getting into,” Bernadette announced gravely. “I meant I’d pay for plane tickets if you two kids wanted to elope, but now I’m thinking the more humanitarian thing to do would be to help finance the escape.”
“Hey, look! Chex Mix,” Matt announced, brandishing a bowl filled with toasted cereal like he’d unearthed the Holy Grail. The
beer bottles clutched in the crook of his arm clinked as he deposited the bowl on the coffee table. Turning to Jack, he boosted a bottle from the curve of his elbow and thrust it at him. “Drink faster. You’ll thank me later.”
Bernadette barked a laugh. “We’ve been waiting to talk to you. Well, I’ve been waiting to talk to you. These two cowards would rather hide behind an old lady’s skirts.”
“You don’t wear skirts. You wear jogging suits,” Marcus retorted. “Not that you jog.”
“Rumor has it you have balls. Not that you use them,” she replied.
Jack took the unopened bottle Matt offered and wedged it between his legs. “I think I’ll thank you now.” Steering his focus back to Ellie’s grandmother, he eyed the old woman. Puzzlement melted into suspicion when she hit him with a guileless gaze in return. “You don’t want us to have a wedding? I thought you all were all over having a big, splashy wedding.”
“No, Gayle wants a big, splashy wedding. It’s all she talks about, day and night.” She drew a deep breath and released it with a long-suffering sigh. “And she’s not the only one.” She leveled a disgruntled look at her son-in-law. “All Marcus can do is bitch and moan about how they can’t afford the big, splashy wedding Gayle wants if he’s going to retire year after next. Why he’d want to leave the peace and tranquility of a high school to hang out here I’ll never know, but some people are gluttons for punishment.” Matt chuckled and the sharp-eyed old crow swooped in on him. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed Laurie keeping tabs on every possible penny. Sisters are like that, you know. Neither wants the other to get one crumb more than she got.”
“Ain’t it the truth,” Matt muttered.
Jack’s gaze pinballed from one conspirator to another, but only one would meet his eyes directly. “You want me and Ellie to elope and save you all the hassle of all this wedding stuff.”
“Ah, he is a smart one,” she cooed. “No wonder the Feds scooped you up. Tell me, are you really untouchable?”
“Yes,” he responded without hesitation.
Jack had learned on his first visit to give the determined old flirt as little room to maneuver as possible. Slumping back against the cushions, he fixed his gaze on Ellie’s father and refused to look away. The earnest appeal he saw in Marcus’ eyes gave him a moment of pause.
“The stock market has been so up and down for the last couple of years. Interest rates are lower than low.” The edge of desperation in the older man’s quietly commanding voice made the hairs on the back of Jack’s neck prickle. “I’m not trying to be cheap. I’m trying to be realistic. Retirement accounts are barely earning anything. The only way we can make money these days is to save money.”
“Laurie has been a little touchy about some of the things Gayle has suggested,” Matt admitted.
“It seems crazy to blow so much money on one day,” Marcus persisted. “There’s no telling how long she could live,” he added, casting a meaningful glance at his wife’s mother. “Longevity runs in the family, and ten grand can make a helluva difference in our future.”
A rush of embarrassment and sympathy made Jack lower his gaze. “Has anyone talked to Gayle about this? I mean, I know Ellie isn’t set on having a huge wedding.”
“We were hoping you and Ellie would be able to talk her down,” Matt said. He had the good grace to wince as he rubbed his scruffy cheek. “Last I heard, she was calling some guy about releasing a dozen doves.”
“Ugh, birds.”
Jack couldn’t help but smile at Bernadette’s violent shudder. Ellie must have inherited her avian avoidance tactics from her. Weighing his options and his words carefully, he shifted from one hopeful gaze to another and waded into negotiations.
“I can’t elope,” he announced at last. “I’m an only child. I can’t get married without my mother there.”
Marcus and Matt nodded their understanding, but Bernadette out and out beamed at him. “You’re a good boy.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m a smart one, remember?” When her penciled-on eyebrows jumped in surprise, he moved in for the kill. “I’ll talk to Ellie and together we will figure something out, but that means the three of you have to have my back. Without question,” he added, giving Marcus his steely-eyed cop glare. “No matter what the personal cost.”
“Agreed,” the older man answered.
A stab of guilt pierced Jack’s gut as he watched the lines of strain melt from Marcus’ face. His heart clenched as he picked out the bits and pieces of Ellie he saw in the other man’s features.
“Jamaica,” he murmured, almost to himself. “I’ll talk her into having a destination wedding in Jamaica.” Facing Bernadette again, he nodded solemnly. “And thank you for the offer, Your Majesty, but I can afford the tickets.”
With that, he tipped the beer bottle to his lips and drained the contents in three pulls, anxious to catch up with his co-conspirators.
****
Her mother waited until Jack left the room to launch into a wedding planning, gravy stirring frenzy. Ellie nodded and grunted at all the appropriate intervals, but mostly she kept her head down and her eyes fixed on the dinner rolls she was transferring to the breadbasket. Like the pats of butter melting atop the bowl of creamy mashed potatoes, her resolve began to dissolve the moment her mother rattled off the dates Our Lady of Perpetual Help had available in the coming year. No Saturdays until July. Could she possibly wait that long?
Straightening her spine, Ellie carried the potatoes and breadbasket to the dining room, exchanging a wan smile with her sister as they passed. Safe from her mother’s incessant planning, Ellie drew a steadying breath. The table was set for seven. Eight including Brendan’s high chair. She’d never again be the odd woman out. But there was no way she could wait half a year to seal the deal.
The wedding wasn’t important. The marriage was what mattered. After so many months of living in a relationship holding pattern, Ellie and Jack were both anxious for their future to start. She’d known she’d marry him from the night they met. Not that she entertained the thought at the time. But Jack hung in there, persistent and steady. So damn sure that she was the one he wanted. Who was she to argue with fate? Who was she to delay the inevitable? Neither of them was getting any younger. They’d talked about kids. They agreed that they wanted kids as soon as possible.
Her hand strayed to the soft curve of her stomach. She closed her eyes and gulped a greedy breath, holding it deep in her lungs for the space of several heartbeats before letting it seep from barely parted lips. A much as she hated to admit it, talk of tulle and hand-tied bouquets pinged something deep inside of her. Each conversation with her mother awakened girlish daydreams she’d forgotten were ever hers. She wanted a wedding, but the kind of wedding her mother wanted was out of the question.
Soon was now.
That is, if the test she’d taken that morning was accurate.
A warm flush suffused her cheeks. Her blood turned syrupy in her veins. Biting her tongue to hold back her glee, she savored the sweetness of her secret. She hadn’t even told Jack. Not yet. She needed to keep it bottled up inside a little longer. Just until she had a chance to absorb it all.
She’d noticed that her period was late, but between the move and her illness, Ellie hadn’t given it a thought. Until yesterday, when she realized that Mother Nature was late to the point of being rude. Dazed and inexplicably frightened, she stumbled to the nearest drugstore and plundered the pregnancy test section. The two sticks she’d peed on that afternoon cancelled each other out. One screamed PREGNANT while the other merely gave an emphatic minus sign with what may or may not have been the sprouts of a vertical axis. The instructions on the third said that the results would be most accurate early in the morning, so Ellie hid the evidence and spent the night praying.
For either result.
The third test gave her two pink lines, confirming that the first test was right. She was PREGNANT. And, if she closed one eye and squinted at the second stick
, she could see it was clearly more plus than minus.
If that didn’t call for extra marshmallows on the candied yams, she didn’t know what did.
“You okay?”
Ellie jumped and whirled, pressing her hand to her heart as Laurie plunked a dish of canned cranberry jelly onto the table. “Oh. I’m fine. I was just…thinking.”
She jostled Brendan, hiking the boy up higher on her hip. “About horse-drawn carriages?”
Confused, Ellie gave her head a sharp shake. “Horse-drawn carriages?”
“Mom wants you to ride to the church in a horse-drawn carriage. Like Cinderella.”
Blinking away her bewilderment, Ellie gave a snort of disbelief. “Seriously?”
Laurie’s lips pulled into a thin, taut line. “She says it’s a good rate for a horse-drawn carriage ride. I’m assuming she’s comparison shopped.”
Ellie wasn’t sure which startled her more—her mother’s flights of fancy, or her baby sister’s barely-contained jealousy. A laugh burst from her lips and she held up her hands in surrender. “Makes me think of that Seinfeld episode where Kramer fed the Beefaroni to that horse. No horse-drawn carriages for me, thank you.”
At last her sister smiled. “Mom says we can call the guys to the table.”
Ellie nodded. “I’ll get them. You strap the monster in his seat.”
Chuckling, she walked into the den in time to see Jack drain the last of his beer. A frown tugged at her brows when she spotted the second empty braced between his feet. Cocking her head, she announced, “Dinner’s ready.”
Stepping aside, she watched as her dad helped Grandma Bernadette from the recliner. Matt offered a weak smile as he sidled past, but Jack ducked his head, avoiding her gaze until the others vacated. Then he turned the full force of those probing eyes on her.
“Your family’s nuts.”
“I’ve told you that over and over.”
“They ganged up on me,” he complained.
Incapable of keeping her hands to herself, she traced the taut line of his jaw. “Were you hurt? Grandma Bernie packs a mean wallop with her pocketbook.”
Unforgettable Heroes Boxed Set Page 119