Everything You Are (13 page)

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Authors: Evelyn Lyes

BOOK: Everything You Are
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Chapter 13

 

“This is so weird,” Jane whispered into her phone. She walked behind Ian who, two steps away from her, excitedly chatted with a pharmacist about vitamins and minerals essential for pregnant women. “I mean, I'm glad that he's so into the whole baby thing, but buying books on pregnancy and going to the pharmacy for supplements only a few hours after he found out that he's the father is a bit too much. He even talked about going to shop for maternity clothes. I'm still in my first trimester; my belly isn't even showing.”

“He's only enthusiastic, that's all,” Mark said in a voice heavy with amusement. “This should be a good thing.”

“Yes.” She pressed her mouth together. “But, he's getting ahead of himself. He even proposed I move in with him.”

“What?”

“Just because I'm pregnant, he thinks we should live together. It's ridiculous.” She lifted her gaze and her eyes met Ian's blue ones.

The goofy smile he had worn since she had told him the news widened and he gave her a little wave.

His smile was contagious and her mouth curled up and warmth spread through her body.

“You should do it,” Mark said.

“What? No.”

Ian started toward the cashier with the pharmacist by his side and a basket full of boxes.

“You should do it,” Mark repeated. “You're in love with him and carrying his child. Why not use this opportunity to make him fall for you and create a real family with him?”

Her voice lowered. “You know I would never be able to do that. His type is big-breasted blondes. For him, the whole sleeping together thing was a mistake.” Which he had accepted quite well. Too well, actually. He had even kissed her. Twice. And then he had even said that he wanted to kiss her again. But they were small, innocent kisses, the kisses given between friends, not lovers. And he had believed her so easily. Well, he did remember parts of it, he said, but he had thought that it was a dream.

“He likes you.”

“I know. It just that that his ‘like’ isn't the same as mine. And besides, he's way out of my league.”

“That's not true.”

“Just remember Amanda, how she behaved, looked and dressed. That's the kind of girl that suits him, not somebody like me,” Jane whispered to Mark, while watching Ian paying for the purchase. The thought of living with Ian was tempting, but it was already hard enough being subjected to his smiles and his generous nature while she was at work. How could she bear his presence in the evening and in more intimate surroundings?

Ian grabbed the bag and then gestured for her to join him.

“I have to go now,” she said to Mark before she cut the connection and walked to Ian, who stepped to the nearby glass display and looked at something.

“Miss,” he said and then after the woman came from behind the counter, pointed at the object on the shelf. “What's this?”

Jane, who had reached Ian, followed the direction of his finger to see a baby bottle with a transparent funnel and a handle attached to it, a box with an image of a woman and a baby behind it.

“A breast pump.”

“A breast pump?” Ian's forehead furrowed as if he was deeply in thought before it smoothed out. “Oh, a breast pump.” He turned to Jane. “You'll need one, right?”

“Okay. That's enough.” Jane grabbed Ian's hand and tried to tug him behind her toward the entrance, but he didn't even budge. “We're leaving. Now!”

“She can be so demanding,” Ian said to the pharmacist, a smile playing on his face, before he yielded to Jane's tugs and allowed her to lead him out.

Jane released him as soon as she stepped onto the pavement; she directed her hurried stride toward their hotel, the roof of which was visible over the row of buildings that lined the street. It was quarter to one and they had planned to have lunch in the hotel at one, so they would have enough time to drive to the neighbouring city, where Ian had a scheduled meeting with a supplier, at three.

Ian caught her hand and jerked her backwards. “The saleswoman told me there's a boutique that sells maternity clothes down the road.”

Jane groaned.

“What?”

She wheeled around, facing him. “I don't need any maternity clothes.”

“But you will.”

“Months from now.”

“The saleswoman said -- she has a sister who's in her fifth month -- that they just got a new collection and they have really lovely dresses.”

“You're not buying me any maternity clothes.”

He frowned. “Why not?”

“And you're forbidden to look at breast pumps.”

He released her hand, crossed his arms and raised one eyebrow. “Are you trying to order me around?”

She pinched her lips together and her brow furrowed. “Yes, I am.”

“You do know that I'm your boss.”

He was trying to intimidate her. “Which has nothing to do with this!”

A smile broke his frown. “I never knew that you could be so feisty.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“With your feisty nature, I wouldn't dare.”

“Stop making fun of me.”

His smile deepened.

“And stop grinning.” Jane stomped her foot. He was looking much too pleased.

“I can't help it.” He bent down and pressed a quick kiss on her nose. “When you're so adorable.”

She lifted her eyes to his and blinked. He had just kissed her and called her adorable.

“Jane, is something wrong?” The smile faded off his face.

She touched her nose, where she could still feel the warmth of his mouth.

“Jane?”

Her hand fell to her side, she scowled. “I'm hungry. I'm going to the hotel.” She wheeled around and without waiting for him she strode toward the hotel.

He joined her. “What about the boutique?”

She shook her head. “I don't want you to buy me things.”

“Why not?” He grabbed her elbow and slowed down her step. “Why not?” he repeated in a soft, gentle tone.

“Because I'm not for sale.”

“Of course you're not for sale. Where did you get the idea that I'm trying to buy you off?”

“You did that to Amanda. You bought her off with a gift.” Jane shook off his hand and hurried down the street.

In a few longs steps he was right beside her. “I wasn't buying her off.”

She had heard him ask Amanda if she got the gift. “That what was the gift for?”

“Okay, I like to give expensive presents when parting with my dates, but not to buy them off or to get them off my back.” He rubbed his chin. “Yes, gifts make goodbyes easier and girls are usually more willing to come to terms with the end of the relationship, but I like giving them presents to show them how much I appreciate their company and the time they spent with me.”

She lifted her head and scrutinised his face. He looked so sincere.

He gave her a ghost of a smile. He shifted closer and the back of his hand brushed against hers. He caught her hand, his fingers affectionately squeezed hers before he laced their fingers. “I like giving people gifts. I like how their faces light up when they get something that they need or something that they wished for. It makes me feel good. Is that bad?”

“No.” She averted her gaze and lowered it to their hands. He had big, gentle and warm hands. Hands whose touch could make her moan and gasp. Warmth bloomed in her cheeks and she hid it with a tilt of her head. What was she thinking?

“So, please, allow me to buy you things.”

She sighed. He might not feel like he was buying people with gifts, but if she allowed him to shower her with gifts, she would feel as if she was being bought. “Fine, as long as you don't get too extravagant.”

“Great.” He tugged her to a stop. “The boutique is in the other direction.”

“Right now, buying maternity clothes is extravagant.” She gestured at the bag he had in his hands. “The books and the supplements are more than enough.”

“The books are for me, not you,” he said.

“Why would you need books about pregnancy?”

“You'll see,” he said, a serious expression on his face.

She didn't only see it, but had to suffer it, as Ian opened up
The 100 Healthiest Foods for Pregnancy
in front of him, right beside the open menu, as he examined the dishes, recommending what she should eat. It was embarrassing and she hid herself behind her menu, impatiently waiting for the waiter to appear so she could order. If she hadn’t been as hungry as she was, she would have been tempted to ditch Ian and to eat somewhere else.

“Jane, you should have the salmon. It's says here that it's very good for you.”

She peeked over the menu. “Could you please put that book back in the bag?”

“Why?”

She sighed and lowered the menu. The news about the pregnancy had hit her like a punch in the face, but now, thanks to Mark's support and Ian's enthusiasm, she was coming to terms with it. “I just learned about the pregnancy last week and I'm still adjusting to it, so you buying books and vitamins and trying to put me into a maternity dress, is sort of...” She bit her lip while trying to find the right word. “Overwhelming. And proposing to eat fish because the book says it's good for pregnant women isn't helping.”

Wrinkles cut into his forehead.

“I'm really glad that you have taken the pregnancy as well as you have, and that you have adapted to the fact that you're going to be a father in a matter of hours, I really am; it's just that I'm not like you. I need time. I'm...” She smiled. “Mark says that I have a habit of welcoming changes like a toddler, screaming and kicking.”

“Okay.” He reached out with his hand and caught hers. “I'll ease up on my gift-buying habit, for now, but I'm still going to insist you move in with me.”

The waiter came and, glad for the interruption, Jane devoted her attention to the dishes listed in the menu. They ordered and while they waited for the food, Ian amused himself with leafing through the book, while she pulled out the tablet and checked his inbox, just in case there were any last minute changes regarding the afternoon meeting.

Three new messages waited in the inbox: an enquiry about the new prices, which she forwarded to the marketing department; a message from Richardson; and an email with ‘bachelor party’ in its subject line. It looked like a personal message and Ian didn't get personal messages, at least not in his company inbox.

“There's a message from Ashton Langton.”

“What does it say?”

She tapped on the message. “He's asking if you have already started to make plans for Kalen's bachelor party.” Who was Kalen? It looked as if Ian wasn't as friendless as he appeared to be.

“I've been so busy with damage control that I completely forgot about that.” Ian closed the book and put it in the bag at the foot of his chair. “Arrange a meeting with him, on Saturday or Sunday morning. And if you have some spare moments, make me a list of appropriate venues for a bachelor party, please.”

“You mean striptease bars?”

“Appropriate venues,” Ian said. “Something that serves alcohol, has pool tables and darts.”

“No strippers?”

He furrowed his forehead as if thinking. “I don't think they would be interested in strippers.”

“What about you?” Jane asked, grimacing at how high her voice sounded. “Would you be interested in a striptease?”

He lifted one eyebrow, his eyes sliding down her body, and a naughty half-smile flashed on his face, making him look completely devious. “Only if you are the one stripping.”

She stared at him. He was teasing her, and she opened her mouth to retort, something witty and sharp, but her mind drew a blank. Luckily, in the next moment the waiter appeared with the food and set the plates before them.

 

#

 

She should have been more firm in her decision, more resolute in her refusal to move in with Ian. She should have been, and yet she was, at this moment, standing in the middle of the guest room in Ian's apartment, with three suitcases of her belongings in front the large wardrobe. Ian had refused to take no for an answer. He was so stubborn and used to doing things his way. He had even bought her maternity clothes, even though she had asked him not to. She could hear Mark's and Ian's voices coming from the adjoining living room and kitchen; they sounded quite lively. “How am I going to explain this to my mum?”

“Jane, where are you?” Mark called her. “Join us.”

“In a moment,” she yelled back, scowling at her suitcases. Maybe this was a good thing. She didn't have to hit her mother all at once with the news of her pregnancy; instead she could first introduce her to her new boyfriend, hoping that the fact that he was also her boss would pass unnoticed. Then a week later she could inform her mother that she had moved in with her new boyfriend and then a week after that she could drop on her mother the news that she was going to become a grandmother. Yeah, she could do that, inform her mother about the situation in which she found herself in stages and not necessarily follow the order in which they had happened.

“Jane!” Mark yelled.

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