Книга - Surrogate and Wife

Surrogate and Wife
Emily McKay


HE WAS HER BABY'S FATHER.HE WAS HER HUSBAND.BOTH STATEMENTS WERE TRUE. AND FALSE.Jake Morgan's seed had created the baby Kate Bennet was carrying. But she was only the surrogate…until she had the unexpected chance to keep her child.And Jake had married her…but only to save Kate's career from politically motivated lies. They had yet to share a bed.Then the unexpected happened again. Kate began to fall in love with her husband of convenience.Suddenly this surrogate wife longed for a real marriage, a real family…with the one man she could never keep.









“It’s Amazing.”


He looked back at her belly when the baby once again moved against his hand.

“Yes.” She nearly choked on the words. “It is amazing.”

It truly was amazing. Not just the sensation of the baby moving inside her, but the way he’d looked at her.

No one had ever looked at her like that before. As if she was amazing. And she’d never in her whole life felt closer to another person.

She felt part of something far bigger and more important than any of the other things in her life—duty, honor, justice. Things she’d always thought of as so hugely important, but that seemed dwarfed by this baby and the connection it created between her and Jake.

It nearly broke her heart to think that this was all just an illusion. The connection she felt was not just frail. It was false.

Because the baby wasn’t hers. And neither was Jake.




Surrogate and Wife

Emily McKay







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




EMILY MCKAY


has been reading romance novels since she was eleven years old. Her first Harlequin Romance novel came free in a box of Hefty garbage bags. She has been reading and loving romance novels ever since. She lives in Texas with her husband, her newborn daughter and too many pets. Her books have finaled in RWA’s Golden Heart, the Write Touch Readers’ Award and the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence. Her debut novel, Baby, Be Mine was a RITA


Award finalist for Best First Book and Best Short Contemporary. To learn more, visit her Web site at www.EmilyMcKay.com.


To my wonderful sister, Robin, who dealt so bravely with her own fertility issues and who counseled me so wisely when I encountered problems of my own. Robin, I’m glad I didn’t need to be a surrogate for you, but I would have done it in a second!




Contents


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen




One


“We’re pregnant.”

Kate Bennet did her best not to roll her eyes at the absurdity of her sister’s remark. “Yeah. I know.”

As a surrogate mother for her sister, Beth, and her brother-in-law, Stewart, Kate knew all too well that “they” were pregnant. Her hand drifted to her belly where the baby was just beginning to show. Her stomach seemed to flip over, making her curse the first trimester nausea that had yet to fade. She picked up the mug of hot peppermint tea Beth had made for her.

Beth reached across the kitchen table and put her hand on Kate’s wrist. Kate paused, mug halfway to her mouth. “What?”

“We’re pregnant. Stew and I.”

Kate lowered the mug, struggling to make sense of the words. “You and Stew?”

“Yes.”

“Pregnant?”

Beth nodded, her smile so beatifically maternal her face all but glowed. Her eyes sparkled with happiness.

Kate’s stomach did another flip, the nausea building now. She pressed her palm to her belly. “With another baby? In addition to the baby I’m carrying for you?”

“Yes.”

Kate bolted from the chair and dashed to the hallway bathroom. She barely made it to the toilet bowl before emptying the remnants of her breakfast.

She knelt there for a long time on the bathroom floor, leaning against the cabinet, eyes pressed closed, until her stomach stilled and tile bruised her knees. Only the sound of Beth knocking on the door roused her from her stupor.

“Kate? Are you okay?”

Was she okay? Well, she felt as if her world had just been turned inside out—along with her stomach. Other than that, she was just ducky.

She hoisted herself to her feet to wash her hands and rinse out her mouth before opening the bathroom door. Resting her shoulder against the doorjamb, she stared at her sister. “How is this possible?”

Beth grasped her elbow and guided her away from the door and down the hallway. “Come back to the kitchen. I’ll make you a fresh cup of tea.”

Kate let herself be pushed gently into the Windsor chair and watched as Beth bustled around the simple, homey kitchen.

“We were as surprised as you,” Beth said.

“But you and Stewart can’t have children. It’s impossible. Isn’t it?”

“Highly improbable. But not impossible.”

In fact, their chances were viewed as so slim, the doctor had recommended not using Stew’s sperm to inseminate Kate. Instead, Stew had asked his best friend, Jake, to be a sperm donor.

Still reeling, Kate said, “I thought you said there was only a 0.2% chance of you getting pregnant on your own.”

“We were just very lucky.” Beth set a mug of steaming water in front of Kate and held out a bowl of tea-bags. “Peppermint or chamomile?”

“How can you be so calm?” Kate felt hysteria rising up inside her as the full implication of Beth’s pregnancy began to sink in. Kate snatched one of the offered packages, ripped it open and dunked the teabag rapidly in and out of the water.

“I guess, because I’ve had more time to get used to the idea.”

Kate’s hand instantly stilled and her eyes sought Beth’s face. “How long have you known?”

“A week. I suspected for longer, but I didn’t dare hope. My periods have always been so irregular—and after so many years of trying—well, I’d trained myself not to hope, even when I missed a period. Or four.”

“Four? How far along are you?”

“Eighteen weeks.”

“Eighteen weeks? That’s a full month further along than I am. A full month.” The very thought made her mind whirl and she sank back against the chair. “So all those sympathetic pregnancy symptoms you’ve been going through that I thought were so charming weren’t sympathetic ones at all. They were real.”

Beth smiled wryly. “I hadn’t thought of that.” She reached for Kate’s hand. “Look, I know this makes everything very complicated, but ultimately Stew and I just really want to be parents.”

Kate sat forward. “You still want this baby, right?”

Beth gave her another beatific smile. “Well, Stew and I talked about it and agreed that decision should be up to you and Jake.”

“Up to me and Jake? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Technically, it’s your baby and—”

“No. There’s no technically about it.” Okay, technically she was both egg donor and genetic carrier, so the baby was biologically hers, but still… “This baby is yours. Yours and Stew’s. That was the agreement.”

The tension inside Kate threatened to boil over. She leaped to her feet and began pacing, glancing incredulously at her sister. Under the circumstances, Beth didn’t seem nearly as distressed as she should be.

Beth stood following Kate’s movement with her gaze. “Yes, of course that was the agreement. But things have changed.”

“You can’t refuse to take this baby. I won’t allow it.” Kate spun around and pinned Beth with her most judicial stare. At least, she tried to pin Beth with a stare, but a wave of dizziness left her groping for a handhold on the nearby countertop, which ruined the effect.

Beth rushed immediately to her side. “Come and sit down. You shouldn’t be pacing like that. It can’t be good for the baby.”

“You know what’s not good for the baby?” she quipped irritably. “This whole conversation.” Still, she sank gratefully into the chair.

“Naturally, Stew and I will still take the baby. If you decide you don’t want it. But we want you to at least think about keeping it. The baby is biologically yours. And whether you’re willing to admit it or not, you feel a connection to it already.”

For a second, Kate didn’t know what to say. Didn’t Beth get it? Didn’t she understand that the only way Kate had been able to do this was by doing everything she could not to feel a connection to the baby?

“I don’t—”

“I know you do,” Beth said, cutting her off, “So there’s no use arguing with me about it. The point is, we have two healthy babies here. Stew and I would love to have them both, but we knew all along we were asking a lot of you and Jake. So if either of you—”

“Jake? What’s he have to do with this?”

Beth shot her an exasperated look. “That baby you’re carrying is his, too. If either of you decides you want to keep the baby, Stew and I are willing to step aside.”

Suddenly struck by the absurdity of the situation, Kate dropped her face into her hands and choked back laughter. “If either of us wants to keep the baby? You realize how completely absurd that is, don’t you?”

But Beth, who merely looked at her with a slight frown, apparently did not.

“Let’s face it,” Kate explained. “I have all the maternal instincts of a paper clip. The only idea sillier than me wanting to keep the baby is Jake Morgan wanting to keep it. He’s hardly ‘daddy’ material.”

“Jake’s not so bad,” Beth protested.

“Hey, he may be a great guy, for all I know. But we’re talking about a man who runs into burning buildings when everyone else runs out.”

“Actually—” Beth lifted her chin stubbornly “—now that he’s moved up to arson investigation, he doesn’t run into burning buildings anymore. Just smoldering ones.”

“Right. Smoldering ones. Big difference.”

Beth flashed an impish grin. “Well, at least his kid won’t play with matches.”

Kate pointed a finger at her sister. “You can laugh now, but these are the genes your child is going to have.”

Beth just chuckled. “I’m not worried about Jake’s genes. He’s smart, handsome, charming, and—”

“Exactly. He’s one of those annoying people who thinks he should get whatever he wants just because he is handsome and charming.” Hoping she hadn’t revealed just how appealing she found Jake—or how much that annoyed her, she said quickly, “What does my opinion of Jake have to do with anything?

“It’s not like you to be so judgmental.”

Beth was right, of course. So Kate smiled wryly and said, “I’m a judge. We’re supposed to be judgmental. Besides, I know I’m right about this. With all the broken homes and bad parents I see in my courtroom, it’s my job to cull the good from the bad. I promise you, neither Jake nor I will want this baby.”

“Just think about it. You might change your mind.”

“Yes. And I might turn into a pig, sprout wings and fly. It’s not impossible, just highly improbable.”



Despite her determination to put it out of her mind, Kate was still thinking about her conversation with Beth the next evening as she tried to finish up paperwork at the office. It was after six on a Monday; nearly everyone else in the courthouse annex had gone home. But she’d long since given up any hope that the relative quiet would help her concentrate.

How could she not think about Beth’s offer to let her keep the baby? Kate rested her hand upon her belly where her baby was growing inside.

Her baby.

Her breath caught in her throat as she felt emotion tighten her chest. For once she didn’t try to squash it or shove it aside. What would happen if she did allow herself to keep the baby?

Her heart filled with anticipation. As if keeping the baby was what she’d been subconsciously hoping to do, even though every logical bone in her body had told her doing so would be selfish and irresponsible.

She already loved this baby. Even though it was too early to tell the baby’s sex, Kate’s gut told her the baby was a girl. Kate’s gut had been pretty vocal lately. Every instinct she had demanded her baby girl would want for nothing. So Kate had spent the past three months following to the letter the advice not only of her doctor but also every pregnancy book she could get her hands on. By golly, this was going to be the happiest, healthiest baby ever born. And if she had anything to say about it, this baby would have the best of everything.

That included the best parents. Kate knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Beth would be a much better mother than she would be.

She saw the evidence all the time in her family-law courtroom. Some women—like Beth—were born to be mothers. Others just weren’t. In her professional opinion, Kate knew she fell into the latter group.

Suddenly angry with herself for dwelling on the issue for so long, she shoved the files she’d been reviewing into her briefcase and headed for the door. The brisk walk to her car made her feel no less grumpy. When she reached the parking lot to find him leaning against her Volvo, her mood plummeted even further.

She’d never quite been able to pin down what it was, but something about Jake Morgan just rubbed her the wrong way. It wasn’t only his confident charm—a trait she’d learned long ago to neither like nor trust in men. Maybe it was that slow, sensual gaze of his that seemed to undress a woman and make love to her all at once. Or maybe it was just the pure testosterone that emanated from him in waves. He was just too much. Too masculine. Too charming. And entirely too smug.

Not to mention too in her way.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as she approached her car.

His long legs were crossed at the ankles. The faded denim of his jeans stretched taut across his thighs. His only defense against the unusually cold May evening was a long-sleeve flannel shirt worn unbuttoned over his T-shirt. With the sleeves rolled up, no less.

Typical. Probably thought he was too manly to need a coat. Or maybe he knew how good he looked and didn’t want to ruin the effect.

She pulled her keys from her coat pocket and used the remote to pop the locks. With a shrug of his muscular shoulders, he pushed himself away from her car.

“I came to see you.”

“I assumed as much.” She opened the rear door and slid her briefcase onto the seat. She made no move to climb into the car herself. He was standing too close to the driver’s door for her to comfortably edge past him. “You always lurk in parking lots by women’s cars? That could be construed as stalking.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “And here you always pretend not to have a sense of humor.”

Even though she had been joking, his insinuation annoyed her. So she said, “I don’t joke about that kind of thing.”

“No, of course not.” He faked a serious frown, but his twitching lips gave him away. “By the time I got here, the building was closed for the night.”

“The guards usually leave at 5:30.”

He nodded. “I figured as much. But this was my only free evening this week and I think we need to talk.”

“Why?”

This time he chuckled. “Don’t look so suspicious. I just want to talk about the situation with Beth and Stew.”

“So talk.”

“You really want to discuss this in the parking lot? We’re just a block away from the restaurants on the square. Besides, it’s too cold.”

The thought of sharing a meal with Jake sent a shiver of apprehension through her. Georgetown, once a sleepy college town, had grown as the sprawl from Austin crept up IH 35. Like many small Texas towns overtaken by suburbia, Georgetown struggled to maintain its own identity. The historic town square, situated around the Williamson County Courthouse, with its collection of locally owned stores and restaurants was one of the ways Georgetown distinguished itself from larger, more liberal Austin.

While food sounded good to Kate, the romantic atmosphere of one of the local restaurants did not. Dinner was entirely too intimate. Too datelike. She sniffed dismissively. “Then you should have worn a coat.”

“I meant for you. You’re shivering already.”

He was right, of course. Ever since the pregnancy, she’d been unusually cold. Which, for some reason, she didn’t want to explain to him. Talking about pregnancy symptoms seemed even more intimate than dinner.

Suddenly she was aware how intimate their relationship already was. The bond they shared was so much deeper than just the sexual bond that usually accompanied intimacy. They’d created a life together.

A part of Jake was in her.

The thought unnerved her, so she fisted her hands on her lapels and pulled her jacket more closely around her body. She didn’t want to eat dinner with him. Didn’t want to do anything with him. Yet there probably were things they should talk about.

“Okay, then. Dinner it is.”

Fifteen minutes later she found herself opposite him in a booth at one of the restaurants on the square, a mug of hot tea in front of her, a bowl of tortilla soup and a plate of cheese enchiladas on the way.

As she sipped her tea, she studied him over the rim of her mug. He sat in the middle of the bench with one arm stretched across the back, making his shoulders appear even wider so that he seemed to take up the entire booth.

Jake was so different from all the other men she knew. Men with manicured hands and suit jackets custom-made to make their shoulders appear wider than they were. Her gaze drifted down to Jake’s hand where it rested, palm down on the Formica beside his beer. His hands were big, muscular even, with long tapered fingers that ended in clean but unmanicured nails. They were unquestionably masculine. Tough, almost.

Had she ever noticed a man’s nails before? She didn’t think so. There was something oddly personal about looking at Jake’s hands. Warmth swirled through her body, pooling somewhere deep inside of her. Where she carried his baby.

She jerked her gaze back to his, cursing the blush she could feel on her cheeks. His eyes were practically gleaming with amusement. As if he could read her thoughts and knew just how unsettled he made her feel.

A scowl settled on her face and she sat up straighter. “Don’t—”

“Let me stop you right there,” he interrupted. “We both know you don’t like me.”

“I don’t know you well enough to like you or not,” she protested.

“Okay, don’t approve of me.”

Well, she couldn’t really argue with that. They’d only met on a handful of occasions and she’d never been able to relax around him. She saw right through his laidback charm to the testosterone-fueled masculinity beneath. It was less that she didn’t approve of him and more that she simply didn’t know what to do with him. Which made her very nervous. She also couldn’t deny how drawn to him she felt. Why now? Why Jake of all people?

Maybe this sudden attraction she felt was just some weird pregnancy thing. Maybe her body somehow knew he was the father of the child she carried. If that was the case, all the more reason to maintain her distance.

So she stiffened her spine as well as her resolve, and said, “No, I don’t.”

“Regardless of that, we’re in this together now.”

“I disagree. If anyone is in this together, it’s Beth, Stewart and me. Your part in this is, thankfully, over.”

“That might have been true before, but now—”

“Nothing is different now.”

“You can’t really be that naive.”

She bristled at his words, even though there was nothing objectionable in his tone. She leaned forward over the table. “Trust me. I am anything but naive. I understand exactly—”

“Okay, not naive then.” He held up his hands in a gesture of innocence. “But you’ve got to admit, things are going to be a lot different than any of you planned.”

“Yes, they’ll be different, but I’ll manage.”

He continued as if he hadn’t heard her concession. “You were planning on Beth and Stew helping you out. Taking care of you. Things are going to be different now. They’ve got their own pregnancy to contend with.”

“You think I can’t take care of myself? Trust me, I’ve been doing it for years. Far longer than most women my age, actually.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“From what Beth has said, you haven’t had an easy first trimester, but it’s only going to get worse. The second trimester won’t be too bad, but by the time you hit the third trimester, you’ll—”

“What makes you such an expert? Have you taken some sort of course in prenatal care?”

He grimaced. “No, but five of my buddies have had babies in the past eighteen months. I’ve heard my share of complaints about late-night cravings and women who can’t tie their own shoelaces.”

“Well, unless you’re planning on moving in with me, I don’t see how you could help with either one of those situations.” She chuckled, but the sound died in her throat when she realized he wasn’t laughing with her. “Oh my God. You can’t be serious.” She gaped at him in disbelief, waiting for him to crack a smile and laugh at her expense. He didn’t even blink. “You are serious. You think we should move in together.”




Two


Kate jerked away from him and shrank back into the booth. “Are you insane?”

Okay, that could have gone a little more smoothly.

“Just hear me out—”

“I mean, I knew you were crazy in that, anyone-willing-to-run-into-a-burning-building kind of way, but this?”

Okay, a lot more smoothly.

“Or are you joking? Because this just isn’t funny.”

“I’m not joking. And if you’ll just give me a chance to explain—”

But before he could, the waitress approached with their food.

Kate fumed in silence while their plates were distributed, glaring at him from across the table as if wishing she could charge him with contempt of court.

“Okay, talk,” she ordered as soon as the waitress was out of earshot. “But make it good, because I’m having a hard time believing that you’ve been nursing a secret desire to cater to the whims of a second-trimester pregnant woman.”

She continued her diatribe for a solid four more minutes. He didn’t bother interrupting—she wouldn’t have let him, anyway. Instead, he took the opportunity to study her.

With her ivory complexion and thick black hair pulled back from her face, he’d have to be dead not to notice how beautiful she was. She wasn’t anything like the women he normally dated, but she piqued his interest. Smart, sexy and fiercely independent. Challenging enough to keep things interesting without ever being clingy or emotionally demanding.

Not that he’d dream of pursuing her now. That would only screw up an already complicated situation. To make matters worse, he couldn’t help admiring how she resisted his help. Even though it made things more difficult for him.

“I wouldn’t have to actually move in,” he pointed out once she seemed to lose steam. “But I could still help out.” Changing tactics, he said, “Beth and Stew are worried about you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Beth and Stew always worry about me. Trust me, if it wasn’t this, it’d be something else. The part of town I live in or the hours I work. Beth is a worrier.”

“Well, this time she feels responsible.” He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on either side of his plate. “Whether you like it or not, your life is changing. I can help you.”

“What exactly is it you think I need help with?”

“Whatever.” He shrugged. “Laundry, grocery shopping, cooking. The point is, you don’t have to be so stubborn. You don’t have to do everything on your own.”

Her eyes flashed as she leaned forward and spoke with barely concealed annoyance. “I’m not being stubborn. I can take care of myself. I am not your problem. I—”

He recognized the slipup as soon as the words were out of her mouth. The way she broke off, then pulled away from the table to toy with her napkin as if flustered, only confirmed that she hadn’t meant to give so much away.

Maybe he should have just let it go, but he couldn’t resist digging a little. I never said you were.”

She wiped her fingers on her napkin and tossed it to the side of her plate. “Fine. The baby is not your problem. None of this has anything to do with you.”

“Ah, come on. Even you have to admit it has at least a little to do with me.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Yes, yes, your part was very important. I certainly didn’t mean to belittle your contribution of spending thirty minutes in a locked room with a plastic cup, but I daresay you’ve done enough. This end of the deal—” she gestured to her belly “—is all my responsibility.”

Suddenly he didn’t feel like teasing her anymore. “You don’t have to do it all on your own.”

She cleared her throat. He could practically see her struggling for a flip response, but in the end, her answer came out sounding as serious as his had. “Yes, I do.”

“But—”

“Look, even if your intentions are good, we’re talking about the next six months of your life. You’re bound to get bored of playing house.”

“I’m not—”

“I didn’t mean that as an insult,” she reassured him. “We’re talking about half a year of giving up your spare time to coddle a pregnant woman. You’d have to be a saint to do that. And, let’s face it, you’re no saint.”

“You have no idea,” he said, unable to shake from his consciousness all the sinful things he’d like to do to her.

He knew this discussion was affecting her as much as it did him, because her voice sounded brusque when she replied, “Which only proves my point. Do you really think you’re going to want to spend your time off doing my laundry when you could be out on a date? Right now, all this pregnancy stuff may seem fascinating, but, trust me, the novelty will wear off.”

“And you think I won’t stick around after the novelty wears off.”

“I’m not about to start depending on you now, only to find out you won’t.”

He leaned back in his seat and stretched his arm across the back of the booth. “You don’t have a very high opinion of me, do you?”

“Don’t take it personally. There aren’t a lot of people I do have a high opinion of.”

“That’s a pretty cynical attitude.”

“Not cynical. Realistic. Every day at work, I see people at their absolute worst. I know what men—and women—are capable of. How they can hurt and betray the people they claim to love the most. If there’s one thing I’ve learned after four years on the bench, it’s that the only person you can really trust is yourself.”

“What about Beth and Stew?”

“Of course I trust them. But I certainly don’t expect them to take care of me. Especially not now that they’ve got their own baby on the way. I’ll be fine on my own. Just like I’ve always been.”

And with that she grabbed her purse, dropped a twenty on the table and scooted out of the booth. She left the restaurant without even a backward glance.

He stared at the money for a minute before the irony sank in. This was the biggest commitment he’d ever tried to make to a woman and she hadn’t even let him buy her dinner.

After he dropped his own twenty on the table, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed Stew.

“You were right,” he said as soon as Stew answered.

“I told you she wouldn’t go for it.”

“She sounded insulted.”

Stew chuckled. “Of course she was insulted. Basically, you told a grown woman you thought she couldn’t take care of herself. Not just any grown woman, either. This is Kate we’re talking about here. She’s been on her own a long time and she’s always prided herself on her competence. Which you just questioned.”

“Not exactly.” At least, he didn’t think he had. “I think she doesn’t like me.”

“No, she probably doesn’t. You haven’t made a very good impression on her.”

Great. Of all the women he’d known in his life, and gotten along with just fine, the one who didn’t like him at all was the one carrying his baby.

He’d been eight years younger and stupider when they first met. Too young to know that some women found charm suspicious. It hadn’t helped that she’d been so much fun to tease. She’d never gotten past that first impression of him and he’d never made the effort to convince her he wasn’t a total jerk.

“What’re you going to do now?” Stew asked.

“Not much I can do. The ball’s in her court. If she can’t see the logic of my offer, there’s nothing I can do about it.” Then he muttered, “Why couldn’t she be more like Beth? Beth would have said yes.”

Stew chuckled. “Because Beth is a one-of-a-kind woman.”

So was Kate, Jake couldn’t help thinking a few minutes later as he tucked the phone back into his pocket and made his way to his car.

Kate was unlike any woman he’d ever met. Tough, cynical and stubborn. Boy, she was stubborn.

He knew he was right—she would need help in the coming months—but he had no idea how to convince her of that. Still, he couldn’t help admiring her for clinging so passionately to her independence. She was a complex and intriguing woman. Way too intriguing.

Under the circumstances, he should probably be thanking his lucky stars she’d refused his offer. He was off the hook. Not even Stewart could say he hadn’t tried.

So why couldn’t he shake the feeling that something really important had just slipped through his fingers?

He couldn’t explain—not even to himself—why he wanted so desperately to be a part of this pregnancy. Surely his offer to help Kate was nothing more than that. Help. It certainly didn’t have anything to do with this inexplicable pull she suddenly had over him.

Shaking his head, he shoved the thought aside. As he steered his car toward home, he knew he should be rejoicing in his freedom. And he didn’t let himself wonder why he wasn’t.



Her week—which had started out so badly—only got worse.

From the news about Beth’s pregnancy, to the bizarre dinner with Jake, to this—being called on the carpet by Judge Hatcher first thing Thursday morning.

Two years ago Hatcher had been elected a district judge on a platform of conservative family values. Since associate district judges like Kate were merely appointed, Hatcher was essentially her boss. She wasn’t happy about it, since they shared years of barely concealed animosity, dating all the way back to when they’d both worked in the Georgetown D.A.’s office. However, since he had the power to make her life very difficult, and since she knew this position was only a stepping-stone to further his political ambitions, she’d stayed out of his way. Until now.

As she made her way back to her chambers in the courthouse annex, she struggled to calm herself. She found Kevin Thompson, the other associate district judge, waiting for her, noisily poking through the papers on her desk.

“How’d it go?”

Still feeling bristly, she glared at him. “How did you know about my meeting with Hatcher?”

“Are you kidding? In this office, gossip spreads like wildfire.”

She grimaced. As if she needed that reminder.

Kevin propped himself on the edge of her desk. “So, how did the meeting go? Did he just want to rake you over the coals a little?”

“It went about the same as all my meetings with him go. He was patronizing and rude. I kept my mouth shut.”

“Good girl. I know he drives you crazy, but it’s best to keep your head down and your nose clean. And look at it this way, in six months he’ll be out of here.”

She sank into her chair. “That’s not reassuring. In six months the elections will be over. If he’s out of here, that means he’s been elected to the Texas Supreme Court.”

Kevin shrugged. “True, but at least he’ll be out of our hair. And let’s face it, ever since he announced he was running, he’s been a pain in the patootie.”

Kate sighed. That was sure the truth.

Meeting Kevin’s gaze, she said, “He wants me to step aside and let him handle the McCain case.”

Kevin let out a low whistle. “Guess we should have seen that coming. Are you going to do it?”

“Step aside? No. Not if I can help it. That case has been on my docket for months now.”

“A high profile divorce like that? To be honest, I’m surprised this is the first time it’s come up.”

Roger and Shelia McCain had worked for a local personal computer company during the boom. The millions they’d made thrust them into the local limelight. Everyone in town wanted to know the details of their divorce settlement. “Until recently, it’s only made the local weekly,” she reasoned. “But now that the story is being picked up by the Austin American-Statesman and the Houston Chronicle, he can’t resist getting the press. Guess he figures it’s good for the campaign.”

“Good for the campaign? That kind of daily press would be worth a fortune. Maybe you should just let him handle it.”

She shot Kevin an incredulous look. “And let that viper turn those poor people’s divorce into a media circus about waning family values? Think about what that would do to them. Worse still to their kids. I’m not going to give him the case unless I don’t have any other options.”

“Oh, honey.” Kevin shook his head slowly. “Just be careful.”

“I won’t be bullied by him,” she insisted. “Sure, he can make my life difficult, but that won’t further his political ambitions.”

Kevin raised his eyebrows pointedly, as if she’d missed something obvious.

“What else can he do?” she asked with false cheer. “It’s not like he can fire me.” Her chuckle died in her throat when Kevin didn’t join in. “You think he’s going to fire me? That’s ridiculous. Even he wouldn’t try to have someone removed from the bench. Would he?”

“I think if you gave him a reason to he would. Especially if he could pin you with something morally questionable. Think about it, you’d be the first associate district judge fired in over forty years. It’d be all over the press, so it’d be a chance to remind everyone of the hyperconservative values he stands for.”

She studied her friend. “Are you worried about your job?”

“Me?” He shrugged. “Not really. I’m very careful, and you’re the only one around here who knows.” Kevin didn’t dare utter the word gay in these conservative halls. “Besides, it’s not me he hates. And if he gets rid of you, he could swoop in, take over the McCain case and maximize his media exposure.”

As she listened to Kevin, she felt a sinking sensation deep in her stomach. What if he was right? What if Hatcher was just looking for a reason to fire her?

She’d been perfectly behaved, perfectly respectable her entire life. Except…

Except now she was pregnant. With no plans of marrying.

Back when she’d first agreed to be Beth and Stew’s surrogate, it had seemed a simple enough matter. Of course, that was a full five months ago, before Hatcher had announced his plans to run for the Supreme Court. Yes, it had occurred to her that some of her more conservative colleagues might raise their eyebrows, but surely no one could fault her for being a surrogate mother for her sister. But now that Beth was pregnant herself, would people question Kate’s pregnancy?

Kevin must have read the distress on her face, but he hastened to reassure her. “Don’t worry, hon. You’re way too smart to give him a reason.”

Kevin’s reassurances did little to pacify her fears. “What if I had done something wrong?”

“You?” Kevin raised his eyebrows. “Little Miss Perfect you? You haven’t made a misstep in decades.”

“Hypothetically, let’s say I did do something…questionable in Hatcher’s view. He’s just one judge. Wouldn’t he have to convince the other seven district judges in order to get me removed?”

“I’d say it all depends on whether they think your ‘questionable’ behavior impairs your abilities or position of authority. In this conservative political environment, it might not take much. Especially with Hatcher focusing his campaign on moral values. The last thing the other judges want is to appear morally lax. Good thing for you you’re squeaky clean, right?”

She smiled lamely and hoped it didn’t look too much like a grimace. “Right. Lucky me.”

By the time Kevin left for court, Kate’s head was reeling. All she could do was stare numbly at her desk, asking herself over and over again, Could he be right?

Unfortunately, the only answer she could come up with was Yes. Very soon she was going to appear to be an unmarried mother-to-be. That seemed like exactly the kind of morally questionable behavior Hatcher would use against her.




Three


Standing outside Jake’s apartment, waiting for him to answer the door, Kate was practically shaking in her boots. Or she would have been if she’d been wearing boots. As it was, she was merely shaking in her sensible, size-nine black pumps.

“Can we talk?” she blurted out when the door finally opened.

Jake stared at her blankly for a long moment.

Long enough for her to be reminded how handsome he was. How purely masculine. Of course, it didn’t help matters that he was bare-chested.

But the thing that really got to her, that actually made her heart stop beating for a second, was how the sheer size of him made her feel feminine. Delicate. Almost frail, even.

She was a solid five-nine, barefoot. No one made her feel delicate.

No one except Jake.

She didn’t like the feeling one bit. And she couldn’t help wishing that Beth and Stewart had picked some other man to be the donor. Someone who didn’t make her feel so distinctly at a disadvantage. Preferably someone who didn’t make her feel anything.

Someone who didn’t look as if he’d just tumbled out of bed.

“Oh, God,” she muttered, finally breaking the silence. “You’re not alone.” The naked chest, the disheveled hair, the sleepy stupor. She’d have put it all together sooner if she hadn’t been so distracted by the…well, the naked chest and disheveled hair. Mortification spread through her and she spun on her heel to leave. “I’ll come back another time. Or better yet, just forget I ever came here.”

But before she could make it even a few steps, he grabbed her by the arm.

“Oh, no, you don’t. You got me out of bed. You might as well say whatever it is you came here to say.”

“I…”

He pulled her into the apartment, not roughly, but with enough force to remind her—again—how much stronger he was. Toeing the door shut, he wheeled her around to face him.

“I, um…” she began again, only to have all thoughts evaporate the instant she realized how close she was to his bare chest.

“What’s wrong? You look…sick, or something.”

Or something, indeed. “I’m a little faint,” she lied, pulling her arm from his grasp. “I’ve been having dizzy spells lately.” Which wasn’t entirely untrue. He did make her head spin.

He reached for her arm again, carefully steering her to the nearby leather sofa. “You should sit. Can I get you something to drink? Water? No, wait, milk. Can I get you a glass of milk?”

Great. Here she was wrestling with this unexpected attraction to him, and he wanted to make sure she was properly hydrated. Just great.

“No, nothing. Look, I’m sorry I interrupted your…evening. I should have called first.”

“You didn’t interrupt anything. I was asleep.” He smiled wryly as he grabbed a flannel shirt that had been left dangling over the back of a chair. He slipped into the shirt, buttoning enough for modesty, but not enough to block the occasional glimpse of his muscles. “Alone.”

“Oh. I see.” Except she wasn’t sure she did. It was Friday night. And it was only nine-thirty.

He must have noticed her looking at her watch because he explained, “I have to be at the firehouse pretty early in the morning.”

“Oh. Then I’m sorry I—”

“Why don’t you stop apologizing and go back to the part where you said we need to talk.”

He lowered himself into the club chair beside the sofa. Again he seemed entirely too close.

“I…um…” The words caught in her throat, trapped there by a giggle rising to the surface. This was absurd, but so was the question she couldn’t see a way out of asking. So finally she just said, “Will you marry me?”

Jake froze, his expression blank for the second time this evening. Then shock registered, and his voice rose sharply as he asked, “What?”

“I need to get married.” Then she added in a rush, “And you did offer to help out with the pregnancy. You said you’d do anything you could.”

“I meant I’d help with your laundry. I didn’t think you’d want to get married.”

“You said you would help.”

“Sure, but married? You want to get married?”

“It’d be a marriage in name only,” she reassured him. “Just until after the baby is born. Maybe not even that long.”

“Let me see if I’ve got this right. Four days ago you didn’t even want me to do your grocery shopping, and now you want to get married?”

“Yes. Well, not exactly.” She frowned, trying to sort through the logic of her proposal. “See, here’s the thing. There’s a slight chance that if I have this baby out of wedlock, I’ll be fired.”

She watched his expression carefully, looking for any hint of his emotions, but he remained stoic. After several seconds he asked, “How slight?”

“Slight-ish.”

“Can you give it to me in a percentage?”

“Maybe forty…” She paused, then added honestly. “Ninety percent.”

For another several seconds, he stared at her, then he sprang to his feet and marched to the kitchen. She heard him open and close the refrigerator door. A minute later he reappeared with a bottle of beer, half of which was already gone, as if he’d had to take several fortifying gulps before facing her again.

He rested his shoulder against the doorway to the kitchen and leveled his gaze at her. “So there’s a ‘slight’ ninety percent chance you’ll get fired when you have this baby and you didn’t think to mention it until now?”

“I didn’t think it wasn’t an issue before Beth and Stew got pregnant.” As briefly as she could, she explained about Hatcher’s bid for a seat on the Texas Supreme Court and his moral-values campaign. “So you see, being a surrogate mother for your sister who can’t get pregnant could be considered noble. Claiming to be a surrogate for your sister who’s already noticeably more pregnant than you is definitely suspicious.”

He eyed her doubtfully. “You really think anyone will even notice that you and Beth are pregnant at the same time?”

“Yes, I do. Beth and Stew know a lot of people. Half the town shops in their health food store. Trust me, people are going to notice she’s pregnant.”

“So, you just have to explain the situation. Most people will believe you.”

She sighed. “You’re right, of course. Most people will. But Hatcher doesn’t have to convince ‘most people’ in order to get me fired.”

“Do you have some kind of morality clause or something in your contract?”

“I’m an associate district judge,” she explained. “We’re appointed by the district judges. We don’t have contracts.”

“This Judge Hatcher can just fire you on a whim? His decision doesn’t have to be based on your performance? That’s bull.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Even under the circumstances, she couldn’t help being a little amused by his vehement reaction. “Of course, it’s not his decision alone. There are eight district judges total. They’d have to vote on it. All Hatcher really has to do is call a press conference questioning my morality. A public outcry from a few concerned citizens would be enough. He only needs a simple majority to vote me out of office. That’s just four other people.”

“And you think he can convince them?”

“I think it’s possible. He doesn’t even have to convince them that what I’ve done is wrong. He just has to convince them that supporting me could risk their reputations. With reelections right around the corner, how many judges do you think will stand against him?”

Jake didn’t answer, but the clenching of his jaw muscle said it all. The situation pissed him off almost as much as it did her.

“He’ll have to convince the other district judges that I’m morally unfit to preside over a court of law, but—” she shrugged “—Williamson County is one of the most conservative counties in the state, maybe even the country. If there’s anywhere being labeled an unwed mother could cost me my job, it’s here.”

He didn’t argue with her, which only confirmed that she was right. The simple truth was that people held judges to a higher standard of behavior. And Kate, for one, expected no less.

“I still don’t see how our getting married will help things. You think people will notice that you and Beth are pregnant at the same time, but not notice six months from now when we get divorced and they adopt your child? You don’t think anyone will question your morality then?”

“That’s just it,” she countered. “By the time I have the baby in November, the elections will be over. Regardless of the outcome, Hatcher could no longer use me as a pawn in his or anyone else’s campaign.” She sensed she’d almost swayed him, so she added, “It’d only be until November.”

After a long moment of studying her, he shook his head ruefully. “Look, the situation sucks, but—”

She stood. “You said you would help.”

“I know I did, but—”

She crossed the room until she was standing right in front of him. “You said you would do anything you could to help out.”

“I know. And you said you didn’t trust me to stick around.”

“So prove me wrong.” She met his gaze head-on. As disturbing as it was to stare into his eyes at this range, she didn’t let herself blink.

“What makes you think I’ll make an even halfway decent husband?”

“I don’t need you to be a decent husband. I just need a ceremony and a ring.”

He chuckled. “Lowered your standards a bit, have you?”

“Don’t make this harder than it is.”

If possible, his smile broadened. Apparently whatever panic he’d initially felt had dissipated. “Why shouldn’t I? You certainly made my initial offer to help difficult.”

Only Jake could find humor in this situation. “I was surprised,” she said through gritted teeth. “That’s all.”

“‘Are you insane?’ I believe those were your words.”

Hearing him parrot her words back to her, she felt ashamed by how badly she’d treated him. Yet he didn’t seem hurt. Didn’t even seem angry. If anything, he seemed amused.

“Don’t you take anything seriously?” she asked, suddenly feeling peevish.

“Very little.”

“Not even insults to your mental stability?”

He just shrugged. “I’ve heard a lot worse than anything you can come up with, Katie.”

She spun on her heel, needing to put distance between them. “This is never going to work. You’re not the crazy one. I am.”

But before she could make a move, he was beside her, his hand on her shoulder, easing her back to her spot on the sofa. “Hey, calm down. I was just teasing.”

“Well, stop. This isn’t the time or the place. What we’re talking about is very serious.”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so.” She desperately wanted to jump to her feet and pace. But doing so would probably mean being touched by him again. Since she wasn’t willing to risk that, she scooted to the far corner of the sofa, then crossed her legs to keep herself from tapping her foot. “If we’re going to do this, we need to be as businesslike about this as possible. We need rules. Boundaries.”

Shirts that buttoned all the way up, she thought, wisely keeping it to herself.

“Gee, you’re just suckin’ all the fun right out of this.”

If his amused expression was an indication, she hadn’t sucked any of the fun out of it for him.

“I’m serious.”

“I know you are. That’s what makes it so damn cute.”

“Cute?” She wasn’t cute. No one called her cute. She was a judge, for goodness’ sake. Judges weren’t cute. She was pretty sure that edict had been written into the Texas Constitution.

“Now, don’t get all huffy on me,” he said in his most placating tone.

“I am not getting huffy.”

“Sure you are.”

“No, I’m—” She sucked in a deep breath. “This is exactly why we need boundaries.”

“This?” he asked archly.

“This.” She waved her hand back and forth between them. “If any kind of arrangement between us is going to work, we can’t have this kind of flirtatious banter.”

He raised an eyebrow, studying her with obvious humor. “Flirtatious banter? So you think I’m flirting with you?”

Despite his teasing manner, there was a spark of intensity deep in his gaze that unsettled her even more than his flirting.

Boundaries, she reminded herself. Get back to setting boundaries.

“I think you’ll flirt with any woman within earshot.” He didn’t seem insulted by the observation. Or perhaps he just didn’t see it as an insult. “But I don’t want you to flirt with me. It would lend too much intimacy to the marriage.”

“‘Too much intimacy to the marriage.’ Now there’s a phrase you don’t hear very often.”

“And while we’re on the subject…” She felt her throat beginning to tighten, and paused just long enough to clear it. Discreetly, she hoped. “I’m sure you’ll agree there should be absolutely no…intimacy between us.”

His lips twitched as if he was barely containing his laughter. “No intimacy? You mean like no flirting? You already covered that.”

“No, I mean no intimacy.” She felt her cheeks begin to burn. Damn it, why should this discussion embarrass her? She was a grown woman, for goodness sake. “No physical intimacy.”

She’d forced herself to say the words without hesitating or stuttering. But she couldn’t force her mind not to stumble over the images automatically produced. The two of them together, lying naked in a tangle of sheets.

Her reaction surprised her. She didn’t want Jake Morgan. She couldn’t want him. Not in their present situation. Not ever.

The only thing that surprised her more than her reaction was the flash of corresponding heat she saw in his gaze.

In an instant it was gone. Replaced by a teasing twinkle in his eye and a cocksure grin on his lips.

“So you think I won’t be able to resist you? You think once we’re living together, we’ll both cave to temptation unless we set up all these rules beforehand?”

“Certainly not. It just seemed wise to— Wait a minute, what do you mean once we’re living together?”

“Well, there’s no point in us getting married if people aren’t going to see us living together, right? I was thinking your place, ’cause I assume it’s bigger, but if you want to bunk down here, be my guest. But I’ve got to warn you, in your condition, I don’t really think you should be sleeping on the sofa, and there’s only one bed. I may be willing to give up my social life for this, but I’m not willing to give up my bed.”

Her mind reeled as he babbled on about the comforts of his bed. He wanted them to live together? How could she possibly maintain her equilibrium—her emotional distance—with him living under her roof?

“No. Absolutely not.” She shook her head, hoping she sounded very judicial, hoping her tone brooked no argument. “Cohabitation has disaster written all over it.”

Either he didn’t pick up on her no-one-argues-with-the-judge attitude, or he just didn’t care. Because he said, just as firmly, “No, if we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right. If we’re legally married, but don’t live together, that’s way too suspicious. Hatcher—or someone else—will figure out something’s wrong.”

“You’re right, of course.” She sighed with resignation. “So what now?”

“We’ll need to have a real ceremony,” he said. It doesn’t have to be in a church if you don’t want it to, but we’ll both have to invite some friends. Preferably friends from work, so that plenty of people will know. We’ll need a story for how we met and why we’re getting married so quickly. We can mention the baby if you want, but we don’t want it to look like that’s the only reason we’re getting married.”

“Not the only reason? You can’t expect people to believe we’re actually in love.”

“That’s exactly what I expect them to believe. For this to work, we need to make people believe it.”




Four


In less than a week she’d be married.

They’d tentatively scheduled the wedding for Friday at the courthouse. She’d make the appointment Monday when she went in to work. Sure, being married by a J.P. lacked romance, but in this case that wasn’t a bad thing. Besides, it had the added benefit of guaranteeing that everyone she worked with would know about the wedding within hours, Hatcher and the other district judges included.

But no matter how many times she told herself this was the only solution, it did nothing to diminish the sinking feeling in her belly. Or her racing thoughts. She was getting married. To Jake Morgan of all people!

Sunday night, as she lay in bed, trying to sleep, she couldn’t keep that one terrifying thought from pounding through her head.

She’d gone to bed early, exhausted from spending the day emptying out her spare room for Jake. Despite her protests, he’d insisted on giving up his apartment entirely, since it would look suspicious to keep it. So all of his furniture would be incorporated into her house or kept in the storage shed out back. After all her work she’d been sure her fatigue would take over and allow her to sleep. Yet here she lay, eyes wide open, heart beating too fast, thoughts racing too quickly for sleep to settle over her.

She felt so jittery, she actually jumped when the phone rang. Alarm shot through her as she snatched the phone from its cradle.

“Stew?”

“No, it’s Jake.” His voice sounded low and lazy through the phone lines. “Were you expecting Stew to call?”

Soothed by the tone of his voice, she sank back against her pillow. “No. But usually no one calls this late, so…never mind. It’s silly.”

“So you assumed something was wrong with Beth?”

“Yes.” You only needed one alarming late-night phone call to fear them for life, and she’d had several. Mostly when she was young and she and Beth still lived with their mother. She didn’t like that he found her so transparent, so she quickly changed the subject. “Did you need something, Jake?”

“I’m sorry I called. I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known it would upset you.”

“I’m not upset,” she lied.

“In my defense, it’s not that late.”

She glanced at her bedside clock. Only 9:23. Dang it, he was right. Most people were still up watching the Sunday night movie.

“But I guess,” he continued without waiting for her response, “that pregnant women tire easily and go to bed early. These are the kinds of things I’ll have to get used to.”

Now that was a disconcerting thought. “Why did you call, Jake?”

“I was thinking about our story.”

In the background she could hear the faint murmur of a TV. “Our story?” she asked.

The sounds faded, as if he’d just turned down the volume with the remote. “The story of how we met, remember? We need to get our story straight, because when people find out we’re getting married, they’re bound to ask.”

She could picture him so clearly in her mind. Lounging on that leather sofa, his legs stretched out onto the battered wood coffee table, phone in one hand, remote in the other, football game on ESPN.

Shaking her head to rid herself of the image, she said, “That’s easy. We met at Beth and Stew’s wedding.”

“We met at their wedding eight years ago and now—outta nowhere—we’re getting married? Naw, that doesn’t make sense.” He chuckled. “I bet you’re a terrible liar.”

Lying in the dark, she felt distinctly disadvantaged. So she flipped on the light beside her bed, stacked a couple of spare pillows behind her and sat up. “I’m a judge. We’re not supposed to be good liars.”

“Is that part of the job description?” he teased.

“No, but it should be,” she said wryly. And then felt annoyed with herself for letting him lure her off the subject. “About this story, we should keep it as simple as possible. And close to the truth, if we can. If you think we really need one.”

“Come on, everybody’s got a story. And when a couple gets married, everyone wants to hear it.”

“I disagree. Not everyone has an interesting story, and surely few people care enough to ask about it.”

“How did Beth and Stew meet?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” She rubbed her temple as she thought about it. “I guess it was their freshman year at UT. She was working at that little sandwich shop across from campus.” She couldn’t keep from smiling as a few of the details came back to her. “Even though he was vegetarian, he’d always order a Philly cheesesteak, because they took so long to make and that gave him more time to talk to— Wait a second. Surely you’ve heard this all before.”

Jake chuckled. “Of course I have, but you just proved my point. Everybody has a story.”

“Maybe,” she reluctantly admitted.

“Definitely. Tell me something. How did your parents meet?”

Kate chewed lightly on her lip, unsure what to say. Her parents had met in a bar during one of her mother’s frequent bouts of drunkenness. Nine months later, when Kate was born, her mom couldn’t remember her lover’s name. Couldn’t narrow the field of possible fathers down to just one guy, for that matter. The most Kate had ever been able to get out of her mom was, “He was probably either the cop from Austin or the salesman from Dallas. Or the trucker from Ohio.”

Whichever guy it was, it didn’t make for the kind of story she wanted to share. So she lied.

“They were high school sweethearts. Their first date was the homecoming dance. They married young.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. More an amalgamation of stories from her adopted parents and her various foster parents.

Since it would never hold up under questioning, she asked, “What about your parents? How did they meet?”

He didn’t answer right away, and she thought she heard a refrigerator door open and then close on his end of the line. A second later she heard him take a drink.

Probably of beer. Instantly she pictured him standing with his shoulder propped against the kitchen doorway, the way he’d stood the other night.

Why did he feel the need to get a beer before answering such a simple question? Was it possible she wasn’t the only one prevaricating about her past?

“Jake?” she prodded. Then felt guilty for being so nosy. And for jumping to conclusions. “Never mind. You don’t have to tell me.”

“Actually, he rescued her from a burning building. Saved her life.”

“Really?” Now that she hadn’t seen coming.

“Yeah, really. It was…”

When he didn’t speak for several seconds, she offered, “Very romantic, I imagine.”

She could picture it. The terror of being trapped in a burning building. The certainty that death was near. And then, out of the smoke, appears a handsome, broad-shouldered firefighter come to carry the damsel in distress to safety. It was the stuff of fantasies.

“Romantic? Sure. But it’s a really bad way to start a relationship. When my dad was injured in the line of duty and had to take early retirement, I think my mom was more upset than he was. I don’t think she ever forgave him for being just a man.”

Something in his voice tugged at a part of her deep inside. He sounded so serious. So pensive.

This vulnerability disconcerted her. She didn’t know how to talk to him when he was like this. Didn’t know how to keep up her barriers against him. So she said nothing.

There was another long pause from his end of the phone. More sounds of him swallowing.

The image of him drinking from a beer bottle crept into her head again. She could practically see him. The way he tipped his head back. The way his Adam’s apple slid up and down the column of his neck as he swallowed. The beads of condensation that formed on the bottle, moistening his fingers.

She wasn’t a fanciful person. In fact, she’d been accused on more than one occasion of having no imagination at all. So why couldn’t she turn off the images of Jake in her mind?

Was it merely the unnatural intimacy that came from talking to him on the phone while lying in bed?

That must be it.

“Look, I should go.” She glanced at the clock. “Now it really is late. At least for a pregnant woman.”

“Yeah, I suppose so—wait, we don’t have a story yet.”

“Can’t it wait till tomorrow? We could talk after work.”

“By then it’ll be too late. You’re making our appointment with the justice of the peace tomorrow, right?”

“Yes. I was going to do it over lunch.”

“When you do, the women you work with will want details.”

“The women I work with? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, come on, don’t pretend to be offended.” That teasing warmth was back in his voice. “Women are the worst about this kind of thing.”

She opened her mouth to disagree, then snapped it closed. He was right, of course. There would be at least a dozen women at the courthouse pumping her for information the second she scheduled an appointment with the J.P. Her court clerk, Meg. All the female court reporters. Not to mention the other judges. And Kevin would be just as bad as any of the women.

Did she dare share the truth with even him? If she did, there would be the inevitable questions about why she hadn’t told him about the pregnancy in the first place. What a mess.

“You’ve gotten pretty quiet over there. You fall asleep?”

I wish.

“Okay, so we need a story by tomorrow. Surely you have some idea already or you wouldn’t have brought it up.”

“What about Beth and Stew’s New Year’s Eve party?”

“What about it?”

“We could say we ‘fell in love’ that night. We were both there, right?”

“Yes.” She went every year, even though she normally didn’t enjoy large parties. But on New Year’s Eve it just seemed wrong to stay home watching repeats of Law & Order. “But so were about fifty other people. All of whom would know we barely spoke to each other that evening.”

“Come on, no one will remember that. It was a New Year’s Eve party. A lot of people were drinking.”

“I wasn’t,” she pointed out.

“Well, of course you weren’t.”

“Hey—”

“I’m sure you never drink in public. Wouldn’t suit the image of the judge, would it?”

Actually, she didn’t drink out of fear of turning into her mother. But that certainly wasn’t the kind of thing she wanted him to know.

“But even you,” he continued, “as sober as you were, do you remember what every other person at the party was doing?”

Mostly she remembered the unending boredom of listening to Paul—Beth and Stew’s accountant—describe his two-week glacier cruise to Alaska. But other than Paul, she couldn’t remember how anyone else spent their evening. And despite how long it had felt, her conversation with Paul had lasted only twenty or so minutes.

“Okay, then,” she conceded. “We ‘fell in love’ at the party. So we’re set with a story.”





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