London

by Patricia Evans Jordan

  “I’m pregnant.”

  Her words melted into the heat of the water then rose with the steam, surrounding them like a curtain. Jaq was stone still, silent. Bronwyn covered her face with her hands and started to cry, wishing she’d waited just one more day before it was over.

  Then she felt both Jaq’s hands slide around to cover her belly and her voice at her ear.

  “We’re pregnant?”

  Bronwyn turned around to see Jaq’s face already wet with tears. Then Jaq was kissing her, the salt from her tears on Bronwyn’s lips, one of Jaq’s hands tipping Bronwyn’s face up to hers, the other still warm and protective around her belly.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?’”

  Bronwyn just shook her head.

  “Bella,” Jaq said, “I’ve wanted us to be a family since the first moment I looked into your eyes.”

  Bronwyn leaned into Jaq’s chest, quiet sobs of relief shaking her enough to make her wince in pain. With Ian in prison for the next twenty years or more, him being a father to her child wasn’t really an option, but it hadn’t crossed her mind even once that Jaq may want to be.

  Jaq kissed her, holding Bronwyn against her body, whispering for her to settle.

  “Wait,” she said suddenly, “How did you find out? What about the gunshot, what did the doctor say? Is the baby okay?”

  Jaq’s hand that still hadn’t left her belly calmed her, and Bronwyn smiled up at her for the first time.

  “I found out when they took me back for the X-rays. They asked me if I could be pregnant and I remembered I hadn’t had my period in a while. Everything has been so stressful I figured that was why and never worried about it.”

  “And they did a test?”

  “They did, and five minutes later the doctor came in and told me I was going to have a baby.” She paused, smiling, looking into Jaq’s eyes. “That we’re going to have a baby.”

  Jaq leaned back against the tub and shut her eyes. “Christ, I can’t believe I let you go into that house with Ian when you were pregnant.”

  “I’m glad we didn’t know. I wouldn’t have taken the risk if I had and he’d still be out there.”

  Jaq pulled her gently back into her arms. “What did the doctor say?”

  Bronwyn winced. “I’ll tell you everything, but I may need to get out and get my pain meds first; I’m almost two hours overdue.”

  “Wait, can you take those?” Jaq looked slightly panicked. “You’re pregnant.”

  Bronwyn tried not to smile. “My doctor gave me specific non-narcotic medicine that’s safe for my stage of pregnancy. It doesn’t work nearly as well, but it’s safe for the baby.”

  Jaq got out first, then gently helped Bronwyn step out of the tub.

  “You don’t need to fuss over me. I’m not that delicate.” Bronwyn glanced at her shoulder for emphasis and looked up at Jaq, trying not to laugh at the worry on her face.

  “Hell yes, I’m going to fuss over you,” Jaq said, her brows pushed together. “You’ll be lucky if I let you out of my sight at all for the next…” Jaq hesitated, realizing she didn’t yet know how far along she was.

  “Six months,” Bronwyn said, standing on tiptoe to kiss her. “I’m a little over three months along.”

  Jaq dried Bronwyn off and got her into pajamas and back into her sling, checking the wound for any bleed through. Once they were dressed, Jaq warmed up their food and brought it to Bronwyn on the couch.

  “Okay,” Jaq said, too nervous to eat, “Tell me everything the doctor said.”

  Bronwyn smiled, watching Jaq load up her plate with more lasagna and salad than any one person could eat. “She said the baby looks strong and healthy,” she said, squeezing Jaq’s thigh, “And that everything looks normal.” She tore off a piece of garlic bread and dipped it in the sauce as she looked up at Jaq. “She did say she’d like to see me gain some weight in the next few weeks, but that was the only concern she had.”

  “Really?”

  Bronwyn smiled, smoothing the worry lines on Jaq’s forehead with her thumb. “Yes, really.”

  Jaq leaned back against the couch. “I didn’t know it was possible to be this happy and this nervous at the same time.”

  Bronwyn looked over and her and hesitated. “Would you like to know the gender?”

  Jaq leaned forward and kissed her, holding her face in her hands. “I’d love to know the sex, but I’ll let him or her tell us the gender in a few years when they’re ready.”

  Bronwyn put her plate aside and melted into Jaq, feeling her heart strain with the love that filled it.

  “I love you, Jaq Bailey,” she whispered, sliding her hands under Jaq’s shirt and across her bare back. “You’re going to be the most amazing parent our child could ever wish for.”

  Jaq’s phone rang just then and she leaned over to pick it up. “It’s your dad,” she said. “He doesn’t know your phone is gone, so I’ll pick mine up and hand it over to you; is that okay?”

  Bronwyn nodded and Jaq answered the phone.

  “Angus, I’m glad to hear from you. Are you at the airport?”

  “I’m at Heathrow; I just got in from Istanbul.” Jaq heard the airport loudspeakers in the background. “How’s our girl?”

  “She’s great. I brought her home today and she’s sitting right here beside me. I’ll hand the phone to her now.”

  “Jaq?” He paused, the airport noise swirling around him. “I spoke to Terry. Thank you for being there for Bronwyn. I don’t know what I would have done…” His voice trailed off.

  “You never have to worry about that, sir.” Jaq smiled, touched. “Here she is.”

  She handed the phone to Bronwyn and Jaq finally picked up her fork as she listened to Bronwyn try to speak to her dad.

  “I’m fine, Dad, stop fussing. It’s barely a scratch.” She paused and took a deep breath. “But Jaq and I have some news.”

  ****

  A few days later, Bronwyn was going stir crazy but still too sore to go out, so Jaq invited Moira and Catherine over to the flat. She made sure there was lots of drinks and Mexican food from the restaurant around the corner, along with a few non-alcoholic choices for Bronwyn. They arrived right on time, bursting past Jaq at the door and stopping just short of hugging Bronwyn.

  “It’s much better, guys,” Bronwyn said, moving her shoulder for emphasis. “You can hug me.”

  The girls hugged her from one side and kissed her, all of them chattering at once, and settled on the barstools around the chips and salsa Jaq had put out on the counter.

  “There are margaritas in the fridge, ladies,” Jaq said, “But I’m afraid I have somewhere I have to be.” She came over and held Bronwyn’s face in her hands for just a second. “I’ll have my phone; call me for anything.”

  Bronwyn kissed her and whispered in her ear before she turned back to the girls. As Jaq pulled her coat on at the door, she looked over at the love of her life, laughing with her friends. Her eyes were sparkling, her cheeks flushed pink with excitement, and there was the tiniest baby bump beginning to show if you knew to look.

  Everything was different now. For the first time in her life, she had a family.

  ****

  An hour later, Jaq sat at the bar, waiting, scotch untouched in front of her. Another glass sat beside it, wordlessly waiting with her. Everything looked exactly as it had when she’d been here in high school, down to the pig made of hammered copper behind the bar. She straightened her tie and looked at her watch for the third time in sixty seconds. It’d been almost thirteen years since she’d been here, and she was more nervous now than she had been then.

  “Jaq.” Angus came through the door and shook the rain off his overcoat, hanging it on the hook by the fireplace. “I’m sorry I’m late; it seems all of London’s traffic was conspiring against me.”

  Jaq stood and shook his hand, and they sat, Angus picking up the scotch and taking a short sip. He let it roll around his mouth before he swallowed.

  “Laphroai
g Islay single malt.” The energy in the air shifted. He looked over at Jaq. “This must be a special occasion.”

  Jaq took a deep breath, the words just out of her grasp. Angus waited, then clapped a hand on Jaq’s shoulder.

  “Jaq, it’s just us,” he said. “We’ve been straight with each other since the first time we were here. Whatever you have to say, just say it.”

  Jaq cleared her throat. “I’m not sure when I’m going to ask her,” she said, meeting his eyes, “But before I do, I’d like to ask your permission to marry your daughter.”

  The bartender passed just then and Angus asked him for the bottle of Laphroaig Islay, sliding his card across the bar. He nodded and stepped past the door to the cellar just behind the bar, closing it behind him.

  “Jaq, you’ve had my approval for thirteen years,” Angus said, raising his glass. “I’d be proud to call you family.”

  Jaq let out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding and clinked her glass to Angus’ as the bartender rounded the corner of the bar, carrying a dusty bottle of scotch with the yellowed label. Angus held it up to the light and topped off their glasses, then reached into his jacket pocket and took out a thick leaf of papers, folded in thirds, and pushed it towards Jaq.

  Jaq looked up. “What’s this?”

  “Bronwyn told me you two were expecting, as you know, so I called in a favor at the Yard and paid Ian a little visit yesterday.”

  Jaq nodded, not sure where Angus was going with this.

  Angus smoothed his hand over the papers. “I had a feeling you and I would be having this drink at some point, so I had my solicitor draw up some documents for me.”

  Jaq opened the papers and smoothed them flat, reading the pages faster than she turned them.

  “He signed them.” Jaq’s voice caught. “I can’t believe it.”

  “I asked him how much it would take and he gave me a lowball number.” He took a sip of his scotch and looked at it appreciatively, holding it up to the light. “He’s an idiot. I would have paid ten times that amount to get him to sign away any rights he had to that baby. I was out of there in ten minutes flat, done and dusted.”

  “So I can legally adopt our child?”

  Jaq and Angus clinked glasses again.

  Done and dusted.

  ****

  Moira leaned over Bronwyn and grabbed the pitcher of margarita. She topped up her glass and Catherine’s, then paused, pitcher aloft.

  “Wait, where’s your glass?”

  “I’m good,” Bronwyn said, suddenly very interested in the cheese dip. “I’ve got water.”

  Silence fell as Moira and Catherine looked at each other then back at Bronwyn.

  “Spill it, B.” Moira put the pitcher down with a thunk and leaned forward in anticipation.

  Bronwyn just smiled and nodded.

  “You’re pregnant! I knew it!” Catherine squealed, followed by the same declaration by Moira. “How far along?”

  “A little more than three months. I didn’t know until they did a test at the hospital after the thing with Ian.”

  Catherine scooped up some cheese dip and sat back on her stool. “All I’m saying is that Jaq must have some serious skills.”

  Bronwyn laughed so hard she had to wipe her eyes. “That’s the official story,” she said finally, her hand on her belly. “We’re definitely going with that.”

  ****

  A few days later, Jaq came through the door after work to find Bronwyn painting by the window, her easel angled to catch the last of the fading evening light.

  “Where did you get that?” Jaq said, kissing her and looking under her shirt to check her bandage. “Although I don’t know why I’m asking.” Jaq winked at her as she eased her shirt back over her shoulder. “I know you just trotted out to the art supply store and hauled this up the stairs like you weren’t just shot a few days ago.”

  Bronwyn leaned into Jaq, untucked her shirt, and slipped her hands across the strong lines of her back. “I had the guy at the front desk bring them up for me, but only because I knew you’d ask.”

  “Smart girl,” Jaq said, leaning into her neck and running her tongue along the edge of her ear. She circled Bronwyn’s hips with her hands and gently pressed them into hers. Bronwyn closed her eyes as Jaq’s thumb found her chin, holding it up as she kissed her neck, stopping at the base with a soft bite that she followed with her tongue.

  “It’s unfair to look so beautiful if I can’t just pick you up and take you to bed,” Jaq whispered, her hands slipping under Bronwyn’s sweater and around the warm curves of her breasts.

  “God, I’d love that,” Bronwyn said, closing her eyes and leaning into Jaq, “But we need to leave here in just a few minutes if we’re going to be on time for dinner.” She paused and looked up at the clock. “We have a couple of people expecting us.”

  ****

  As soon as Jaq opened the restaurant door, Azran and Zahaar came running up from behind the counter, this time greeting both of them as Bronwyn knelt down and pressed something into both their hands.

  “What was that?” Jaq had to laugh as the boys took off at breakneck speed through the kitchen doors. She took Bronwyn’s coat and hung it by the door with her own just as the owner came out and showed them to a table. His wife waved at them from the kitchen, her white apron streaked with cardamom powder.

  “None of your business, Detective Bailey,” Bronwyn teased, settling back into her seat and smiling.

  Jaq ordered a glass of white wine for herself and a bottle of sparkling water for Bronwyn as she loosened her tie, rolling up her sleeves and taking Bronwyn in from across the table. She was wearing the black cashmere cardigan and faded jeans, her hair falling around her face as she tucked it behind her ear and pushed her glasses up further on her nose. Her eyes were soft as she looked back at Jaq, and reached across the table for her hand.

  “So I got a call from my mum today,” she said. “She’s in surprisingly good form.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She actually apologized for the brunch disaster. And she’s staying an extra month at the spa, so I think that’s a good sign.”

  “Did you tell her you’re pregnant?”

  “God no.” Bronwyn laughed. “I was afraid it would drive her to drink.”

  A fragrant dish of chicken karahi arrived then, along with two plates, and Jaq dished it up, tucking an extra piece of naan onto Bronwyn’s plate.

  Jaq started eating but Bronwyn just pushed her food around on her plate, biting her lower lip.

  “What?”

  “How did you know I was going to say something?”

  Jaq just looked at her and raised an eyebrow. Bronwyn let out a breath and took a sip of her sparkling water.

  “I know everything is happening fast,” she said, twisting the edge of her napkin in her fingers, “And I know you love your loft, I love it too…” Her voice trailed off and she looked up at Jaq.

  Jaq tried not to smile. She’d always been unbelievably cute when she was nervous. Jaq had a good idea of what she’d wanted to say even before she started, so she decided to help her a bit.

  “I like the loft,” Jaq said, running her thumb lightly across Bronwyn’s palm, “But I love you.”

  Bronwyn smiled, the tension easing just a bit. “I was just thinking. We may need a bigger place with the baby coming, like a family home.”

  “Like maybe one in Notting Hill across from the park?”

  Bronwyn smiled. “I think I know just the one.”

  The twins walked up to the table just then and looked at Bronwyn, who took Zahaar’s hand and gently pulled him over to switch places with his brother. They both looked at her expectantly, their big brown eyes reflecting the candle on the table until Bronwyn smiled and nodded.

  Azran extended his hand to Jaq, revealing a crumpled piece of paper.

  Jaq picked it up and smoothed it out, noticing their mother peering out from the kitchen door, smiling. It was just three words,
in Bronwyn’s handwriting.

  It’s a girl.

  Jaq held the paper in her hand and closed her eyes, not noticing the tear that slipped onto her cheek when she finally opened them.

  “Really?”

  Bronwyn smiled, nodding at Zahaar. He held his arm straight out toward Jaq and opened his hand to reveal an identical crumpled note. Jaq took it, looking over at Bronwyn as she smoothed it out enough to read.

  This time, anyway.

  The boys ran away giggling towards their mother, and Jaq took Bronwyn’s hand and held it to her heart. Her voice was soft.

  “You’d have more children with me, Bella?”

  “In a heartbeat.”

  Jaq saw those children reflected in Bronwyn’s eyes, the eyes like sunlight on a forest floor, as she took her face in her hands and kissed her.

  About The Author

  Patricia Evans Jordan has been slinging ink and falling in love with her characters since her boarding school days and continues to write in her hometown of Eureka Springs, surrounded by the forest that inspires her.

  Patricia has lived in Ireland and England and returns there frequently to write, as well as to a much loved tiny island off the coast of Glasgow, where the owner of the local pub saves her the red velvet chair by the fire.

  Patricia Evans Jordan is currently at work on her fifth novel.

  More of her writing can be seen at her website, www.tomboyinkslinger.com or her Instagram at

  www.instagram.com/tomboyinkslinger

  More details are available at www.sapphirebooks.com

  Check out Patricia’s other book

  McCall - ISBN - 978-1-948232-32-6

  Sara Brighton is a quickly rising culinary star in Savannah after Food & Wine magazine named her restaurant Best New Restaurant of the South, until it burns to the ground in an accident and she impulsively packs her truck and heads for McCall, Idaho, the last place she remembers being truly happy.