by C. C. Wood
I shook my head. "That's not why I said that. It wasn't a hint!"
I tried to pull away, but he kept his hold on me.
"I know it wasn't. You're too much of a straight shooter for that. But it would solve a lot of the biggest issues, right? I can put you on my insurance immediately once we're married. I'd be able to help with medical bills. You could quit your cleaning jobs and focus on school and working here. And I could help you when you needed it during the pregnancy. And once the baby is born, I want to be there. I—." He cleared his throat. "I don't want to miss anything."
Oh, the evil man. He was softening me with his lists. Somehow, he knew exactly what to say to get me to consider this craziness.
"I don't know, Jay. I need to think about it."
He squeezed my waist lightly. "I know you do. But please don't think too long. You need to go see a doctor. I'll pay for it."
Someone knocked on the door. Well, it was more like someone beat on the door with a fist, making us both jump.
"You okay, Lee?" Cam called. "Do I need to beat on my brother for you?"
I laughed. "I'm fine."
"Good. You're coming to lunch on Sunday. Be there at twelve-thirty so Mom can grill you before she grills the lamb chops for lunch at one."
My eyes widened. "What?"
"You're going to be involved in this family when you have my niece or nephew, whether J.J. likes it or not, so it's better to start early. This way, Mom and Dad will be on your side and disown him if he screws up. I've always wanted a sister."
J.J. shook his head. "You have to marry me, if nothing else to save me from her and my mother."
I patted his shoulder, intentionally aiming for patronizing. "You're a big boy. You'll survive."
His eyes locked on mine and suddenly I was hot all over. He wasn't looking at me with that tender concern of earlier. No, he was staring at me like he was thinking about kissing me until I did whatever he wanted.
Not that it would be difficult to do.
I knew that all it would take was one kiss and I'd be toast.
"J.J., unhand my assistant manager. She's on the clock."
The moment was effectively destroyed, which was probably for the best.
Otherwise, I would have ended up engaged and married before Sunday lunch with the McClanes.
7
My resolve took another hit that night when I got home from work.
It was nearly nine and when the headlights hit the front porch, I saw J.J. sitting on the swing, a brown paper bag from the local grocery store next to him.
By the time I'd pulled under the carport and gotten out of my car, he was standing by my rear bumper.
"Hey," he greeted, as if this was an everyday occurrence.
"Hey. Um, what are you doing here?" I asked.
He lifted the bag by the handles. "I brought food. I'm going to make you dinner."
"At nine at night?"
"It'll take twenty minutes, tops. Then, I'll clean up and you can get some rest."
That was incredibly sweet, but I didn't want him to do things like this because he felt obligated now that he knew I was pregnant.
"J.J., you don't have to do this."
"Do what?"
"Feel obligated to take care of me," I answered, shutting my car door.
The headlights went off before he spoke, leaving us in the dark and me unable to see his face clearly.
"Why do you think I feel obligated?"
"Because I'm pregnant!"
Crud, I hadn't meant to yell.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you," I said.
"How many times did I ask you to go to dinner or for coffee or anything at all after Cam's wedding?"
Several. He'd made it clear he wanted to see me again and often.
"A few," I answered.
"I don't feel like I have to do this. If anything, I'm hoping you feel obligated to let me spend time with you."
I gaped at him. "What? Why?"
He walked closer, which set off my motion sensor lights. I could see his face now, and he was wearing his stubborn expression.
"Because I didn't want a one-night stand, Lee. I wanted to know you. I wanted to spend time with you, and you shot me down. Now, I have a second chance and I'm not going to fuck it up."
I sighed when he swore but didn't say anything about it because that wasn't the issue right now. "How do you always know exactly the right thing to say to get me to do what you want?"
He grinned at me. "You forget, I've known you for years. I've seen exactly how your mind works."
"I always thought you didn't notice me all that much. You were nicer than my brothers' other friends, but still..."
"Well, I was a teenager, so you'll have to excuse some of my obliviousness."
The light went off again, leaving us in the dark.
"So, can I make you dinner and thus show off my culinary prowess and impress you enough to let me do it again?" he asked.
I laughed. "I suppose it sounds better than the cheese, crackers, and fruit I was planning on having."
"Another reason I came with food. You've lost weight." He raised a hand when I started to speak and the light came back on, revealing his face once again. He was smiling. "I know that's common for a lot of women if they have morning sickness, but please don't blame me for worrying."
There he went again. Saying all the right things. Doing all the right things.
"Let's go inside. I'm hungry." He moved past me toward the house, waiting at the base of the steps for me to unlock the back door.
As soon as we were in the kitchen, I glanced down at my clothes. I had splotches of ice cream on my shirt and the bottoms of my jeans. I was also a bit sweaty from running around all day.
"Do you need any help?" I asked him.
He glanced at me. "Nope. Why don't you put your feet up and pretend you're impressed with my mediocre cooking skills."
I laughed and fingered a sticky stain on the bottom edge of my tee. "Actually, I'm gonna jump in the shower if you don't need me to show you where everything is."
J.J. waved me away. "I'll figure it out. Go clean up. Get comfortable."
I left him rattling around in my kitchen, humming under his breath as I walked back to my bedroom. I stared longingly at my bed, but my stomach growled, so I knew that I wouldn't be able to sleep until I ate something anyway.
I'd also found that eating a satisfying dinner the night before helped the nausea when I woke up. It was just nice that I didn't have to cook tonight.
With one more glance at my bed, I went into the bathroom, stripped off my clothes, put my hair up in a bun on top of my head, and jumped in the shower. The hot water loosened the muscles in my neck and back. I wanted to stay there until it ran cold, but the knowledge that J.J. was waiting on me in the kitchen kept me moving.
Within ten minutes, I was clean and dressed in a loose pair of light cotton pants and a t-shirt. My waist was definitely getting bigger, so I found myself reaching for elastic waist shorts and pants and swingy sundresses more often than not.
I didn't know how I would afford to buy maternity clothes when the time came because all my money was likely going to pay for my medical bills.
Maybe I could find some things at the Goodwill one town over.
I walked out of my bedroom and was immediately assailed by the scent of cooking meats, herbs, spices, and vegetables. My stomach growled again.
My steps quickened as I came down the hall and walked into the kitchen to find J.J. making enough food to feed a small army.
I bit back a laugh and managed to hide my amusement before he turned around.
"Hey! Just in time. Dinner will be ready in five minutes."
I glanced at the sheet pan in front of him, which was covered with raw vegetables that he was tossing with oil and seasoning.
"Are we having crudité?" I asked.
"Crudawhat?"
"Raw veggies?"
He grinned and shook his head. "N
o. You mentioned you barely have time to cook while you're in school, so I'm meal prepping a few dinners for you for next week. They're sort of like TV dinners, only healthier."
"Wow." My throat closed up, so I had to clear it before I continued. "That's so sweet of you, Jay. You didn't have to do that."
He shrugged. "I do this every Sunday night for myself. I've got it down to a science now." He gestured to the sheet pan. "It's just some roasted vegetables and grilled chicken, but it's good for you and you don't have to worry about making it or cleaning up for a few days."
No one but my mother had tried to take care of me before. My brothers usually pretended they were helpless so I would do stuff for them, which worked when I was a kid. Now, they just begged because they knew I was onto them. That usually worked too because it was really annoying.
"I think you're the first person other than my mother or grandmother that's cooked for me before," I finally said when the silence between us went on too long.
"I should say that's sad but the competitive part of me is very happy."
I had to laugh. Darn it, why did he always say the right thing?
He'd set the table with my plain white dishes, basic silverware, and paper napkins from my pantry. There was even a small flower centerpiece in a short vase. And votive candles flickering. It looked romantic and inviting. Like this wasn't any weeknight dinner, but a dinner. A special occasion.
There had to be a catch.
I'd known him long enough to know that he wasn't perfect, but right now I was struggling to remember a single one of his flaws.
Maybe his penis had given me brain damage. Or carrying his baby. Because I could clearly remember at least two occasions when I was in middle school that he'd driven me nuts because he left his humongous basketball shoes on the floor right in front of my bedroom door when he came over to play video games with Scott.
Or the time he'd tickled me until I'd nearly peed on myself. When I was fourteen, which was more than old enough to hold my bladder.
There were other times he'd irritated me, but the memories were beginning to fade as I watched him move around my kitchen in his socks.
Wait, where were his shoes?
I glanced around and, sure enough, they were right in front of the door.
Maybe he wasn't perfect after all. I got up and moved them against the wall so one of us wouldn't trip over them before the night was over.
J.J. gave me a sheepish smile as he slid the sheet pan of chicken and veggies into the oven. "Sorry about that. Drives Mom and Cam nuts, too, but I just do it on autopilot. If it makes you feel any better, I have a bruise on my elbow because I tripped over my shoes at home."
I laughed. "Some things never change. You used to leave them in front of my bedroom door when you came to visit Scott."
If I hadn't been watching him, I would have missed it. But I was, so I saw the flush creep over his cheeks.
"Why are you blushing, Jay?" I asked, moving back to my chair and sitting down before I did something stupid like go over to the stove and hug him.
He cleared his throat. "Uh, because I used to do that on purpose. You'll probably throw something at me for saying this, but you were really funny and, uh, kinda cute when you got all riled up and yelled at me for leaving them there."
I hadn't realized he'd done it on purpose, but I did remember the way he used to grin down at me when I would shake one of his shoe boats in his face. Huh, that explained a few things.
"But it wasn't like that, you know," he said. "You were too young for me, but you weren't as mean as Cam when I made you mad. It was actually kinda fun instead of scary."
I laughed. "No, you were just lucky I had a horrible crush on you. I have four older brothers. I've had a lot more practice getting revenge than Cam has. I just never did any of that to you because I could barely string two words together around you."
It was J.J.'s turn to look at me in surprise. "Huh. I never knew. I always thought you avoided me."
I got up and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. "Want one?" I asked him. When he nodded, I took the lid off and carried it over to him. Finally, I said, "I did avoid you because I knew it was only a matter of time before I humiliated myself in front of you."
J.J. sipped his water, his eyes on me. "It was probably for the best. You were jailbait when I got older anyway." He studied me. "But you never seemed to date anyone. Why was that?"
"Four reasons," I answered, which made him laugh because he knew I was talking about my brothers. "At least in high school anyway. I never hooked up with anyone in college because I had plans and I didn't want to deal with the drama that seemed to come along with dating. I got to see plenty of the ways they screwed over the women they dated, both literally and figuratively, and decided I had more important things to worry about."
J.J. froze and lowered the bottle a moment before he squeezed it so hard the water shot out of the top of it. He put it on the counter at his side and grabbed some paper towels off the roll hanging beneath the cabinets. "You never hooked up with anyone? Are you telling me you were a virgin that night?"
Oh, no, no, no, no, no. I couldn't believe I'd let that slip.
The way he was looking at me made a cold sweat break out on my skin.
"Um, only in the most technical sense," I said, speaking quickly. "I, uh, have some, um, toys."
J.J. froze again and I lowered my head, sighing heavily. I listened to him as he wiped up the spilled water, his breathing a little ragged.
When the lid of the trashcan opened and closed, I finally opened my eyes and met his gaze.
"Why me?" he asked. "After all those years. Why me and why now?"
I could have told him everything—about how I didn't want to be a twenty-seven-year-old virgin when I finished grad school and that living in a small town made it almost impossible to meet men without everyone knowing everything. About how I didn't want a real relationship because I'd seen the damage my brothers wrought when they were my age.
Those were part of the truth.
But the most important part, the part he needed to know was what I said next.
"It felt right. That night, with you, was the first time it felt right."
I forced myself to stay still as he came toward me. J.J. stopped just a few inches away and I had to tilt my head all the way back to see his face.
The backs of his fingers brushed my cheek as he looked down at me. Still moving slowly, he lowered his head and brushed his lips against mine.
The kiss was short and light, barely a kiss at all.
But I felt it all the way down to my soul.
He lifted his head, his eyes still on mine. "It felt right to me, too."
J.J. walked back over to the stove and I had to sit down because my legs were too shaky to hold me any longer.
I tried to make sure I didn't plop down too hard because I didn't want him to realize exactly what he'd just done to me with that kiss.
My knees were jelly. My brain was mushy and empty at the same time.
In that moment, I would have done anything he wanted.
Even say yes to his earlier marriage proposal.
I sat in silence and watched as he finished off the beef medallions he brought and added tomatoes and avocado to a salad in my one big salad bowl.
He took a plate with two steaming potatoes out of the microwave and started bringing everything to the table. Somehow, he must have realized the state of my fridge because he'd even brought butter and sour cream for the potatoes.
"This looks great," I finally said. "Thank you for making me dinner."
When J.J. smiled at me, I knew that I was in deep, deep trouble and it wasn't because I was pregnant with his baby.
He kept the conversation moving while we ate, thank goodness, because my brain was still addled from that barely-there kiss and what it had done to my heart.
But he didn't mention my pregnancy or marriage. It was as if our discussion in the bathroom at Crave had never ha
ppened.
I wasn't sure if I was relieved or worried.
I didn't want him to pressure me. Not at all.
But I had expected him to at least talk about it. He'd mentioned discussing it again later, so I assumed that tonight would be considered later.
Right?
Instead, I ate the delicious, healthy meal he made for me and no longer thought about falling asleep in my chair. I was caught up on my studying for the day and it was only nine-thirty, a good hour before I normally went to bed.
After we ate, J.J. gathered our dishes, took the chicken and vegetables out of the oven to cool, and started washing the dishes. I got up to help, but he waved me away.
It didn't take him long and when he was done, he put the dishtowel neatly on the rack, exactly the way I usually left it hanging.
"I didn't think to bring dessert," he said. "I wasn't sure what you would want."
I grinned at him. "How about s'mores?" I asked. "With Nutella instead of chocolate squares?"
"Sounds good, but am I gonna have to start a fire first?"
I shook my head and got up to take the ingredients out of the pantry. "We have everything we need here in the kitchen.
Once I had graham crackers broken in half and slathered with Nutella, I removed the grate over the gas burner on my stove and turned it on.
"Oh, I see," J.J. said behind me. "Cool idea."
I didn't bother asking him how he wanted his marshmallow because he'd always burnt them to a crisp when he came over for weenie roasts at my parents' house. They didn't often let us have friends over because, with four sons close in age, that meant a house full of teenage boys who could clear out a full pantry in a matter of minutes. Weenie roasts in the fall and early spring were the exception. Hot dogs and buns were pretty cheap, as were graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate bars. At least once a month during the cooler seasons, my parents would let us invite our friends over.
Well, I would have if I'd had many friends growing up.
My brothers had such a reputation as hellions that most of the parents in town kept their daughters away from me for fear of what might happen.