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Authors: Nicole Lane

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BOOK: Playing All the Angles
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Finally, she uncrossed her arms and craned her neck so that he moved. “I do want it. I am happy.” She let herself smile and found herself wearing a face-splitting grin.

“I am too,” Marcus agreed, his own face alight. “And I’m serious about being in this together. You’re family to me, Eve. And if you won’t let me be the father, I’ll be the most fabulous uncle ever.”

They hugged to seal the deal, then Marcus pulled her around to look at sketches he had prepared when she’d first told him she might be pregnant, the next hour going by in a flurry of discussion of fabrics, cuts, and colors, and then she went off to the clinic for confirmation, where she was given a list of doctors, a round scolding about her lifestyle vices, a book to read, and a bottle of vitamins—each pill the size of her thumb.

Two days later, and she had confirmation from a real, practicing OB/GYN. She walked out in wonder. Just over twenty weeks. She was almost halfway finished before she’d even admitted she was started. She had gained five pounds and needed to gain five more to make the doctor happy. She had more vitamins to take, another book to read, a duffle bag full of coupons and powdered milks, and a sonogram picture that indicated her baby girl was about as shy as she was when it came to showing off her goods—not shy at all.

“You’ll start showing soon.” The doctor had smiled, patting her belly. “And you’ll eventually start to feel her moving around.”

Uncharacteristically, when the doctor had asked her about her support, Eve had blurted, “The father’s fantastic. He’s thrilled. Over the moon. He’s already picking out names—they’re horrible names, but he’s just that happy. It’s good. My family’s going to be thrilled.”

And she had burst into tears when the doctor kindly asked, “You’re terrified, aren’t you?”

So, now she was walking down the street, heading back to her flat. Five months ago, Dominic had been entertaining the notion of moving to Los Angeles. He’d had an offer from an American motocross club and was seriously considering it. She hadn’t known that he’d been trying to decide between cutting ties with Isabelle completely or tying the knot in total. If she had, things would have been different now.

He had seemed intent on moving. It was the perfect set up for her, she’d thought. Then she’d come to her senses, apparently too late. She hadn’t planned on telling him if he’d moved away, and she didn’t plan on telling him now, but she wondered if he would figure it out.

Everyone just assumed she was slutting it up with every man she met. Reality was that she hadn’t been that girl for a couple of years and was generally only sleeping with men she dated more than twice, or Dominic. And she’d only been with Dominic recently.

She decided not to tell her family. They’d all figure it out sooner or later, and then they’d be so furious she hadn’t told them that they’d have that to chew on, rather than the missing father. And she’d present Marcus to them and just let them wonder. It wasn’t totally farfetched.

She picked up speed, pulling out her cell phone.

When Marcus answered, she said, “Sorry, sweetie. We’re having a girl.”

His scream was ear piercing, and the two of them laughed through another flood of Eve’s tears.

“I’m going to need to invest in waterproof mascara, or you’re going to need to do something in a dribble-proof fabric.”

She waved at Tad, who was locking up his car as she turned in to the gate, and beckoned him to follow her into her own flat as she wrapped up the conversation with Marcus. “Are you busy?” she asked Tad, opening the door. “Got plans?”

“Not that I know of. Do we have dinner plans?” His eyes twinkled playfully as he followed her inside.

That thought stuck in her throat a moment, making her realize how much she had already come to enjoy him. Only a little while of knowing him, and she was feeling a panic she’d never felt before, worried that he might walk out her door and never come back. All the mirth of the phone call melted away, leaving her cold and afraid.

Tad seemed to sense her sudden change in mood as he dropped down onto her sofa.

She locked the door behind them and fumbled through the motions of putting away keys, bag, and anything else she could lay hands on.

“Everything okay?”

“I have some news.”

“I like news.”

“It’s going to change everything.”

“Okay,” Tad said slowly. “Did Dominic break up with your sister?”

“No! No. Nothing like that.” Eve took a seat on the opposite end of the sofa from him. “Well, it involves him, but nothing like that.”

“What then?”

She looked up at the ceiling, spending a moment on thinking she needed to dust the vent above her head. Anything to prolong the announcement. “I’m pregnant,” she said, finding his eyes. “By Dominic. I’m sure it’s Dominic. I’ve been pregnant this whole time—the whole time I’ve known you. I just found out for sure today.”

He looked like he was struggling for what to say, so she shrugged at him.

“I’m happy. I’m actually happy. I’m not going to tell him it’s his. It’s mine and that’s that. No one has to know. But I’m really happy—I really want this baby.”

“Then…congratulations.”

She bit her lip. “And I really want to keep seeing you. But I understand if it’s too much, or too weird.”

Tad rubbed his chin, then his forehead, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s a lot. And yeah, it’s pretty weird.”

“Okay.” Eve’s voice was just a wisp.

She watched him stand and walk to the door, stopping with his hand on the knob. “Dinner plans?”

“Sorry?”

“Do we have dinner plans? Because I could just go get some take-out and bring it back here.”

“What?”

“Well, we should celebrate. It’s good news, yeah? You’re having a baby. You’re happy about the baby. We should celebrate. And I should go get some take-out because it will give me a few minutes to process the information and figure out how to make my face do what I want it to do, so I’m not just gaping at you. Good?”

Eve nodded, disbelieving. “Good.”

“Good,” Tad repeated. “Right. Take-out to celebrate. And some sparkling cider or something like that. No more champagne for you.”

Eve covered her mouth, not sure whether to laugh or cry, but certain she didn’t trust herself to speak. Tad gave her a familiar wink and walked out the door. Now, she only had to hope he would walk back through it. Preferably with some Italian.

Chapter 5

“O
LIVE
, T
AKE
T
HAT
O
UT
O
F
Y
OUR
M
OUTH
this instant!” Alora shouted across the yard to her daughter before turning back to Isabelle. “I swear, she thinks everything is edible.”

“At least she’s not picky,” Isabelle offered.

Alora laughed. “Right. You think it’s funny. Just wait until you have children.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“Just don’t get pregnant before you’re married,” Alora warned.

“Don’t worry. It will be a couple of years before we have children. I want to wait until I’ve got my certification and Dominic’s retired from racing.”

Alora frowned, as if she didn’t think much of this plan, but didn’t say anything. “At least tell me that you’ve set a date.”

She smiled. “Yes, October twentieth.”

“This year?”

“Mm-hmm. Dominic doesn’t see any reason to wait.”

“That’s barely six months away.”

“Plenty of time to plan a proper wedding.”

Alora gaped at her. “Only if we start now!” she cried, standing up and hurrying into the house.

She returned a few minutes later, carrying a stack of magazines and a massive scrapbook. “These are all the people I used for my wedding. You’ll need to book them well in advance, so we should start right away,” she said, flipping open the embroidered cover of the scrapbook. “Oh, and your dress! I have the latest issues of the bridal magazines for you to look through.”

“Goodness, Alora,” Isabelle said, looking down at the array with wide eyes. “I didn’t expect you’d be so…prepared.”

“Don’t be silly,” Alora preened. “This is nothing. Oh, and Mother and I have begun plans for your engagement party. Since you’re getting married in October, we’ll have to move things up a bit, but that’s fine. We’ll do your bridal shower in September, and your bridal luncheon the weekend before the wedding.” She had a pen and was noting things in a tiny, pink, spiral journal. “I’ll book a cake tasting for us. We should really consider dresses, though.”

Isabelle smiled warily. “I was thinking I’d ask Evie to do something for me. You know, design a gown that was just for me.”

Her sister let out a breath and sat back. “Well…that’s certainly one way to go.”

“You know she does gorgeous work, Lora.”

“If she didn’t try to sabotage you. She loathes Dominic. Oh! Did you notice the way she was flirting with Doyle at Mother and Dad’s party? The whole thing with the ordering of coffee? I swear to God, I’m so lucky he’s not a man with a roving eye. I cannot even trust my own sister.”

Isabelle listened as Alora started off on one of her tears. Her reality and everyone else’s differed wildly when it came to Doyle. Letting her mind wander, Isabelle started a mental list of what to tell Eve that she wanted. She knew she wanted something slim, nothing too confectionery, and she wanted the white to have a little blush to it. And it needed to be modern enough to match up with Dominic’s lifestyle. She wanted to look like a cross between the school teacher she was training to be and the wild man’s wife she was becoming. A tall order, but Eve and Marcus could come up with something, she was sure. And to have a Rode Street original? That would be hard for anyone to top.

She was supposed to have lunch with Eve later in the week, and she was looking forward to it. They’d only had the chance to talk once since the discussion about the prenup had gone awry, and that was to arrange lunch. Isabelle hoped Eve wasn’t still upset with her about what she’d asked—throwing her casual relationships in her face—but she would apologize when she saw her in person.

After allowing Alora to vent and show her a few of the magazines, Isabelle told her regretfully that she had to go. “Dominic’s expecting me,” she said, bending to kiss her sister on the cheek, then calling the kids over for hugs before she went. “Thanks for everything, Lora.”

Over the next few days, Isabelle thumbed through the magazines Alora had collected, tearing out pages that interested her, and started making a folder with what she liked best. On the gowns she preferred, she marked what she liked or disliked, hoping that would help Eve get an idea of what to do.

“Unless you have an idea already,” Isabelle said hopefully from across the table, watching her older sister study the pages she’d been presented.

“Mmm.” Eve nodded, pointing. “This is good here, but that’s cut for a short girl, and you’re a tall girl. I’d like to put you in something that’s a bit more glamorous, don’t you think? I could see you in something asymmetrical. One arm and shoulder completely bare—maybe the one on the groom’s side—and the other in a nice, tight sleeve. I’d cut it on the bias so it really clung to your body, but with a generous enough fit that it isn’t sleazy. We could do a blue topaz brooch on the sleeved shoulder at the top, and you’d have your something blue.” Eve’s face was lighting up as she considered the possibilities. “We’ll make you stunning. Stunning-er. You’re already going to be the most beautiful bride of the season.”

Isabelle beamed. “I’m so glad you’re willing!”

“I’m thrilled you asked!”

“I also wanted to ask if you’d be my maid of honor. Would you?”

Eve’s smile faded somewhat. “Oh, Issie. I really think you should ask Alora to do that. It would mean a lot to her and to Mum. And…okay.” She put down the pencil she’d been using to make notes. “I have to swear you to secrecy.”

“What?”

“Swear. Hand over heart. I’m going to tell you something that you absolutely cannot tell Mum, Dad, Alora, or anyone else in the family. All right?”

Isabelle nodded. “I swear. What?” Eve was unpredictable, and she was half-afraid her sister was about to say she was moving to Sri Lanka to care for elephants or something equally as insane.

BOOK: Playing All the Angles
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