Joanna Sims – Christmas Baby: A Baby Under the Tree / A Baby For Christmas / Her Christmas Hero (страница 14)

She stopped messing with her fingernail, then leaned forward and rested her forearms on top of the table. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

That’s what she’d said when she’d called yesterday. Yet whatever she had to say still seemed to weigh on her mind.

Wanting to make it easier on her, he tossed her a smile. “I hope it’s to say that you missed me.”

She returned his smile, although hers was laden with whatever had been holding her back. “It’s a little more complicated than that.”

Apparently so. But her nervousness set him on edge, too.

Finally, she said, “I want you to know that the night we spent in Houston was the first time I’d ever done anything like that.”

He’d suspected as much, and a slow grin stretched across his face. “I’m glad to hear it.”

So maybe she did have more in mind than a glass of OJ and a chat. He sure hoped so, but he was going to need a little more to go on than that.

Jillian ran her fingertip along the moisture that had gathered on the Mason jar, clearly holding back her announcement.

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Something tells me that it might be easier for you to say what you came to say if you asked Trina to put a little vodka in that glass.”

“That wouldn’t help.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “There’s no easy way to say this, Shane. I’m pregnant.”

Her statement slammed into him like barrage of bullets, making it impossible to speak, let alone react.

Was she suggesting the baby was his? Or had she met someone else in the past few months?

“I thought you should know,” she added.

Why? Because the baby was his?

They’d used protection… Had they gotten careless that night? Was the condom outdated?

Or had she gotten pregnant by some other guy? Her ex-husband maybe?

Was that why she hadn’t contacted him? Was she afraid he wouldn’t like the idea of her having some other man’s baby?

“How far along are you?” he asked, hoping to do the math and clarify things without asking outright if the baby was his.

“Four and a half months,” she said.

That would make it about right.

He supposed there was no way around being direct. “Is it mine?”

She shot him a wounded expression. “Of course it’s yours. I told you that I’d never done anything like that before.”

Well, how the hell was he supposed to have known that it had to be his? She’d been married up until the time they’d met…?. And maybe she’d done it a second or third time—with someone else.

“I know we used a condom,” she added, “so I’m not sure how it happened, but it did.”

Shane lifted his hat, raked a hand through his hair, then set the Stetson on the table. “I’m sorry, Jillian. I’m just a little…stunned. That’s all.”

God, he was going to be a father again…

Just the thought caused voice-stealing emotion to rise in his chest and ball up in his throat—fear and panic, pride…

“I’m not asking for anything,” she said. “Like I said before, I plan to raise the baby on my own. And other than the fact that it will probably be a little inconvenient because of school and all, I’m actually looking forward to being a mom. It’s just that I thought you should know.”

He would have been furious with her if he’d ever found out on his own and learned that she’d kept it from him. But right now, he didn’t know quite what to say. His emotions were flying around like stray bullets at a shoot-out—each spinning toward separate targets.

For some reason, thoughts of Marcia came back to taunt him, memories of her taking their toddler and moving out of town. The reminder served to blindside him, making it even more difficult to deal with Jillian’s news—and making it way more personal.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“About what?”

“I don’t know. Dumping all of this on you, I guess. You must be worried about what this all means, but it doesn’t have to mean anything to you. I just thought you should know.” She bit down on her bottom lip, her mind undoubtedly going a mile a minute, just as his was doing.

He tried to wrap his mind around the fact that he was going to be a father again, but as he did, thoughts of Joey swept over him: the sight of the newborn coming into the world; that first flutter of a smile; the sight of the chubby baby pulling himself to a stand at the coffee table.

While he should look forward to the idea of having a second chance at fatherhood, the horrendous image of his eighteen-month-old son lying in a small, white, satin-lined casket chased away the sweet memories, and he feared what this might lead to…the anger, the pain, the grief.

After Shane and Marcia had split up, she’d moved out of state, taking Joey with her. Not only had Shane lost out on seeing his son from day to day, he’d been more than five-hundred miles away when he’d received word that he’d…lost him for good.

There was no way Shane wanted to go through that again. And while he had no idea how he would remedy that this time around, he knew he’d have to do something.

He glanced at Jillian, saw her pulling at her fingernail again—clearly worried, nervous and stressed about the situation.

It probably hadn’t been easy for her to deliver the news, and he was sorry that his initial reaction had been a little harsh.

“I didn’t mean to snap at you,” he said, his mind still reeling.

She smiled, then glanced away. “I understand.”

But she didn’t; she couldn’t.

He probably should tell her about Joey, about how he’d lost his son, about how he still ached with grief. But he didn’t think he could open his heart like that without choking up and falling apart.

Besides, the baby news had slammed into him like a runaway train, and it was too soon for him to have a rational reaction to it.

Even if he’d been happy to learn that he was going to be a father again, he wasn’t sure if he could trust her. What if Jillian took his baby away and never let him see it again?

He studied her for a moment, watched her slip her hand between the table and her belly, stroking her rounded womb as if caressing the child that grew there.

His child.

Her child.

Fear of repeating the past—the pain, the grief—threatened to suck the breath right out of him, but he couldn’t let it. He had to face the truth. He was going to be a father again.

And there was no reason history had to repeat itself.

“When’s the baby due?” he asked.

“December third.” Her gaze wrapped around his, and she smiled, a whisper of relief chasing away all signs of her nervousness.

How had he missed seeing it before—the obvious pregnancy, the maternal glow?

Jillian might have waited too damn long to tell him about the baby, but he sensed she was happy about the situation.

“Are you planning to drive back to Houston tonight?” he asked.

She caught his gaze. “Actually, I didn’t like the idea of being on the road after dark, so I got a room at the Night Owl.”

“You could have stayed with me.”

“I… Well, I suppose I could have, but I wasn’t sure how you’d take the news. And I figured things might be a little awkward between us.”

“Maybe so, but we’ll need to deal with the situation anyway.” And some of it was going to be tough.

Shane scanned the honky-tonk, and when he spotted Trina, he motioned for her to come to the table.

“Are you hungry?” he asked Jillian.

“A little.”

When Trina reached the table, Shane said, “We’d like to place an order to go.”

“All right. I’ll get you a couple of menus.” When she returned, she handed each of them the new, one-sided laminated sheet of cardstock that offered a few appetizers and various sandwiches. “I’ll give you a chance to look this over, then I’ll be back.”