Harlequin Superromance January 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Everywhere She Goes\A Promise for the Baby\That Summer at the Shore (30 page)

She sat at the table across from him, and the bird hopped down her arm, landing on the belly of the pregnant woman on the cover of the book.

“Should you be around a bird while pregnant?” He really should know more about pregnancy than that Vivian shouldn't have caffeine or alcohol.

“It's fine. I wear gloves when I clean up after him and wash my hands often, but that's one of the things I wanted to talk with you about. I need to find a doctor.”

“Are you sick?”

She pulled her chin back into her neck and gave him a funny look. “I'm pregnant.”

Karl's throat tried to choke him and he coughed. “This is all new to me.”

“It's new to me, too. I've not had much more time to get used to the idea than you have.” She patted his hand like he was a child. Her hand was warm. “I need to start having regular checkups for myself and the baby. Would you like to go with me to the first visit?” When he turned his hand palm up, she grasped it and squeezed. “Maybe it will help this all be real to you.”

It's not as though he hadn't imagined having a pregnant wife before. When he'd believed their marriage to be happy, he'd roll over in bed to look at Jessica and wonder what their children would look like. But with Jessica everything would've been planned. There would have been a calendar tracking when she was fertile, the
best
OB-GYN practice in Chicago already chosen and she would have picked out the crib she wanted before they even stopped using birth control. Jessica organized everything.

And he would've been a better partner to Jessica. Despite their arguments, Jessica wouldn't have questioned whether he would be around to discuss the pregnancy. She would have assumed.

Vivian was a stranger, but legally she was his wife and—until he knew for certain otherwise—she was carrying their child. He should be no less a partner to Vivian just because she and the baby were inconvenient. Pregnancy was hardly convenient for Vivian, either. Whatever had driven her out of Vegas, she'd had a life there.

He squeezed her hand in return. “Yes. I would like to go to the first prenatal visit. I'm not sure I can make all of them, but I'll make the ones I can, so long as you want me to.”

“I dropped in on your doorstep with no warning and you've taken me in. You've been great, considering. Really.”

“You're a bad liar.” She looked out the window, but he saw the lie in the way her nostrils curled. “I didn't kick a pregnant woman out on the streets, which means I'm not a jerk. It doesn't make me great. We don't know each other now, but that doesn't mean we can't eventually become friends. Friendship would be a better place to start than many people having a baby together.”

“Friends.” She turned her head back to face him. She was wearing the same pink sweater she'd worn when she'd first arrived. At the time he'd been too overwhelmed by the situation to concentrate on anything other than small details of her features and the haze of his memories. Looking at her now, face-to-face and with his mind open to his changing circumstances, he could see how pretty she was. Simple and without fuss, like a sunrise over the lake. “I'd like that.”

Neither of them noticed they were still holding hands until the bird climbed from the cover of the book to stand on Vivian's middle finger and whistle.

She blushed and eased her hand out from his grip, the bird still carefully balanced on her finger. “I need to go to bed. This is past my pregnancy bedtime. I'll clean up Xìnyùn's mess in the morning.”

“Don't worry about it,” he said to her back as she slumped off to the bedroom. Cleaning up after a parrot would give him something to think about, other than his suddenly empty hand.

CHAPTER FOUR

“I'
M
SORRY
,
D
AD
....”

Karl eased the front door closed, not wanting to disturb Vivian's conversation, and if he was being honest with himself, because he wanted to hear what she had to say to her father. She was in her bedroom, but the door was open so she couldn't have an expectation of privacy.

That she probably still expected him to be out getting their breakfast made that argument a bit specious—a technicality he was willing to ignore to learn more about his mysterious bride. Vivian wasn't forthcoming with information.

“...but I'm not going to tell you anything about what's happened to me if you're not going to tell me where you are.”

Interesting. Not knowing her father's whereabouts was very different than his being unavailable.

“You always say it's important, Dad, but me telling you that I'm fine is all you need to know right now.”

He slipped his shoes off and walked to the door of the guest bedroom in his socks, indecision an unfamiliar and uncomfortable feeling.

“No, nothing much in my life has changed since I last saw you.” The sarcasm in her voice cut through the door and Karl was certain her father was bleeding on the other end of the call, though it sounded as though her dad didn't know why she was being so cutting. Hell, Karl didn't know why she was being so cutting.

When had she last seen her father? She'd said he wasn't available—a bit of an overstatement—but did he even know she was pregnant? That she'd lost her job? Based on the present conversation, Karl was willing to bet the answer to all those questions was no. For all her dad knew, Vivian was still in Vegas, dealing, single and with an empty uterus.

Vivian sighed. “Yes, you're my father and you care about my well-being, but maybe you can see how that doesn't mean very much to me right now.”

Clearly she didn't want her father to know about the upheaval in her life, but why? Was she lying about the pregnancy? He shook the second question from his head. She would be a fool to lie about a pregnancy and invite him to the doctor's office. He pulled his hand back from knocking at the door. It was unethical to eavesdrop and he now had more questions than answers—a punishment the Greek gods could have devised.

“I've been in Sin City for sixteen years and you were never so interested in my well-being before.” One short thunk came from the room. “I will continue to take care of myself, and it will be easier without wondering if you'll show up on my doorstep.”

Her words stopped his attempt to be courteous and find something else to listen to. However occasionally constricted Karl felt at having his entire family live in the same city, he couldn't imagine fearing their appearance on his stoop. Or worse, believing them to be more of a hindrance than help if he got in trouble.

“Dad, that was a fun time, but I'm too old to be looking for the next adventure.”

The desperation in her voice echoed the strain on her face from the night she'd shown up in his lobby. It had been that strain that had convinced him she was pregnant and that she believed it was his baby. Both of their lives would be a lot easier if he'd never bought her that drink.

Realizing he wasn't going to learn any more about his wife, Karl walked to the kitchen, setting the newspapers and the bag of bagels on the counter. He was putting out plates when she came out of her room.

“Oh.” She stopped short at the sight of him, blinking. “I didn't hear the front door.”

He turned his back to her and poured two cups of coffee. “I know.” When he turned back to face her, she hadn't moved. “Sit down. Have some breakfast.”

She clasped her hands together, twisting them. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough to know you don't know where your father is and that you've not told him you lost your job. Or that you're pregnant. Why?”

A quick, frightened glance at the bedroom door gave away her thoughts.

“Is there a reason the fact of your father's ignorance might induce me to kick you out of the apartment?”

“No.” Her hands fell to her sides and she inched to the breakfast bar. She gave him one more cautious look before sitting down. “I have good reasons for not telling my father about losing my job.”

He pushed a cup of coffee to her. “And for not telling him that you're pregnant.”

“That, too.” She wrapped her hands around the mug, but didn't drink any coffee. Karl waited. “I'm not going to tell you what those reasons are right now, no matter how silent you are.”

His laughter surprised them both. “The tactic loses some of its effectiveness when you put it so baldly.” That he was continuing to help her didn't disturb him—she was pregnant and he didn't believe in punishing a child for the sins of the mother, whatever the sins she was hiding might be—but how little he cared about her secret scared the hell out of him. Her attractiveness wasn't enough to justify his feelings. He liked her, simple as that. “At least tell me that you're not keeping a secret from me because you did something illegal.”

“I didn't do anything illegal.” The matter-of-factness with which she said those words left a myriad of other secretive possibilities undenied.

“Does the secret have to do with why you were fired?”

“I don't want my dad to know I'm pregnant because I don't want him to have extra incentive to come looking for me.” Topic of conversation seemingly changed with the vague answer, she reached for a bagel, but Karl wasn't satisfied.

“Because?”

Vivian put the bagel on the plate with a sigh. “Because he's trouble, and I'm too old to go on thinking it's fun.”

“Shouldn't it be a parent's prerogative to know if they're going to be a grandparent?”

“Have you told your parents about me yet?” she asked.

“Parent. My dad died when I was sixteen.”

“I knew that. I'm sorry.”

“The people responsible for his death are the ones who should be sorry. You didn't have anything to do with it.”

“But I'm not the only one keeping secrets from one of the baby's grandparents.” She looked out the window before reaching for the tub of cream cheese. “My dad is better off not knowing.” Scrutinizing her bagel as she smeared it with cream cheese, she continued, “He wouldn't care that much anyway.”

Interesting. She had the same tells when she was lying to herself as she did when lying to other people.

He took his time choosing his bagel and spreading it with cream cheese, enjoying her wary looks as she tore small bites off hers and chewed them slowly. If she didn't want to continue worrying about what would happen if he knew her secrets, she should spill them and get the pain over with.

His coffee was barely hot as he washed his breakfast down before changing the subject. “Speaking of a parent's prerogative and whether or not she knows about you, my mom planned a family dinner for tomorrow.”

* * *

V
IVIAN
COUGHED
,
BUT
managed to choke down her mouthful
. Couldn't he have waited until after I'd swallowed before laying that on me?

“Am I invited?” Did she want to be invited? She didn't want to be a dirty secret locked up in a basement somewhere, but meeting Karl's family had seemed less scary when it was an abstract idea. Or when bumping into his brother-in-law at the library without the chance to escape or the opportunity to worry about it beforehand.

“We're married and you're carrying my child. I think that makes you family. Or do you plan to hide from my family like you're hiding from yours?”

How nicely Karl evaded the fact that he'd been hiding her, as well. “Hiding from my family is an exaggeration. My father could probably find me if he tried.”

His shoulders fell, but he didn't sigh in exasperation at her. Since she was exasperated herself, this was a bit of a surprise. “There are aspects of your life you don't want to tell me right now,” he said. “That's fine. Not great, but we're strangers in a rough situation and I'm trying to be understanding. But don't outright lie to me.”

“Fine.” She put down her bagel and looked him straight in the eye. “It's not an exaggeration, and I'm hoping he doesn't try, but not for the same reasons you're keeping me from your family, I'm sure.” What she had to say next would be harder to admit to, but she wanted him to understand, even if she couldn't tell him everything. “My dad's fun, but he's not responsible. I need responsible.”

“Did he do something illegal?” His voice expressed simple curiosity, but there had to be more behind the question. Vivian didn't believe Karl ever asked anything out of simple curiosity.

“What's your time frame?” She pushed her half-eaten bagel away, no longer hungry.

“It's not a trick question, Vivian. He either did or he didn't.”

“Maybe it's easy for you, but you're a lawyer and you spend your time looking for evildoers. This is my father we're talking about. He's lazy and looking to make a quick buck involving the least amount of work. Combine that with Las Vegas...” She shrugged. “There are a million things he could have done that are
wrong
without being illegal.”

And that was just Las Vegas. If she assumed that every time they had moved in the middle of the night it had been because her father was escaping the law...

Of course, on a few occasions he might have been escaping his partners in crime, not the authorities.

“You should tell your father the truth.”

“No.” The word came out more forcefully than she had meant it to, causing Xìnyùn to whistle from the next room. “When I'm settled, I'll tell him. Until then...” An offensive tactic seemed to be a better idea right now. “What are you going to tell your family about me?”

He took a sip of his coffee and grimaced. It was cold, which was probably why she hadn't touched hers. “At dinner will be my mom, my sister Tilly and her boyfriend, and my sister Renia and her husband, Miles. You met Miles at the library. I don't know if his daughter, Sarah, will be there.”

“I'll get you another cup of coffee,” she said, reaching out for his mug.

His hand was cool when it grabbed her wrist. “Don't. If I want another cup I'll get it myself.”

“I'm just trying to be nice.”
I'm still in your apartment, eating your food, without a job. And now we have this secret hanging between us.

“When you're offering just to be nice, I'll let you get me a cup of coffee. Until then, you're doing it because you feel beholden to me and I'm not interested.” He let go of her hand and she missed the cool touch of his palm on her skin.

Which was nuts. They weren't a
couple;
they were a couple of people stuck having a baby together. She would get a job and her own insurance, they would agree on divorce terms and child support and she would never feel his touch again. He was a domineering pain in the ass, anyway.
Because you feel beholden.
Assuming jerk.

But because he was right, she asked her question again. “What are you going to tell your family about me?”

“The truth.”

“That we met while drunk, had sex and woke up married?”

The corner of his mouth kicked up in a smile, marking this morning as the first time she'd heard him laugh much less give any indication he
could
smile outside of Las Vegas. And she couldn't help notice that his hazel eyes twinkled when he smiled. “An edited version of the truth.”

“Could you—” how to ask this question without sounding like she was trying to hide even more “—not tell them about the baby?”

The corners of his mouth fell as his smile turned suspicious. As he should be, Vivian thought, only not with regard to the baby. “Any particular reason to keep it a secret?”

“I'd always heard it was bad luck to tell anyone before the third month.”

“Miles knows—or at least guesses. He saw the book.”

“Just between us for now. Okay?”

* * *

K
ARL
DIDN
'
T
USUALLY
lie to his mom, but he knew how to keep something from her. He'd hidden his impending divorce from her almost until Jessica had served him with the petition. It wasn't something he liked doing—his mom had been angry about the secret of the divorce for months—but he made it a habit not to answer questions people didn't ask. It hadn't occurred to his mother to ask if he was getting a divorce. However...

“Is she pregnant?” his mom asked in a whisper as she handed him a platter of sauerkraut pierogies to take to the dining room.

“Why do you ask?” If he could avoid answering the question, he wouldn't have to lie to his mother. He didn't
want
to. But he understood Vivian's reluctance to share the news—though his reasons were different. The fewer people who knew about the pregnancy, the fewer people who would insist on showing him adorable baby booties and maybe the fewer chances he'd have to think of all the horrible ways children die. As long as only he and Vivian knew about the baby, he could ignore the risk childhood posed to a child whenever he wasn't around his wife. Or so he told himself.

His mom grabbed the waistband of his pants, preventing him from walking out of the kitchen. He sighed in response.
Some days, you are still five years old to your mother.
“You married a woman I've never met. What am I supposed to think?”

“Mom, even if she were pregnant—and I'm not saying she is—I wouldn't tell you until she was three months along. It's bad luck.” At least Vivian had been kind enough to give him something to tell his mother while he lied to her.