“That’s different,” I argue.
“It’s not. Kids want a mom and a dad. You should consider his offer.”
“I don’t want to get married out of obligation.”
“Before you set yourself against it, try to see it from his side. What if he doesn’t want to be kept from his kid? What if he wants to be legally tied to the both of you?”
“He can have that without us being married. I’d never keep him away, “I retort.
“Yeah, shared visitation, every other weekend bullshit.”
Gavin’s parents are divorced. I never considered what it would be like growing up split between two parents. I lost my parents before I could even remember them. My grandparents raised me and were as solid as they come, so much so that my gramps died of a broken heart shortly after my grams passed.
“I want to marry for love.”
“I don’t have an argument for that. Are you freaked about meeting his mom?”
I slip a cracker into my mouth and mumble, “Yeah,” around it.
“Do you know anything about her?”
“Nothing. I’m guessing they’re close though since he didn’t wait to tell her I was pregnant.”
“That’s a good point,” Gavin murmurs.
“Yes, so I’m nervous about making a good impression but am already screwed, because no matter what I do, I’m the baby mama.”
He snorts.
“It’s not funny,” I groan.
“You called yourself a baby mama. It’s your own fault I laughed.”
“Whatever,” I reply, my lips tipping up. “Now, be a pal and tell me all about your date to take my mind off of how seriously jacked my life is at the moment.”
Lifting one hand from the steering wheel, he reaches out to squeeze my shoulder. “I like her, and I got the impression that she likes me too.”
“That sounds promising. I take it drinks went well.”
“They did,” he confirms.
I gently slap his arm. “I dished with details stop making me beg for them in return.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” He teases.
I loudly munch on another cracker.
He pauses before taking pity on me. “We were off to a slow start before the movie. She was so much prettier than her picture. I got nervous and clammed up. Brenda did most of the talking for me so Claire didn’t seem to notice. We sat next to each other and during a scary part of the movie she turned her face into my shoulder.”
He stops talking so I prompt him to go on.
“I was remembering what she smelled like.”
“Awww.” I pause, and then add, “Hopefully it was good.”
He laughs and nods as he goes on, “Really good, like sugar cookies. Then, after the movie, on the walk to Brewmasters, she grabbed my hand.”
I press my hand to my chest. “She did?”
His eyes stay on the road, but even from his profile, I can tell his whole face lights up. “She did. At the bar, I was less nervous.”
“Liquid courage for the win,” I hoot.
“It wasn’t that,” he argues. “I only had one drink. It was her. She’s easy to be around, and quiet too but in a sweet way. She didn’t check out mentally. We talked but in half sentences because we kept finishing them for each other. It’s insane how much we have in common. Oh, and she was impressed I work with you. She said your reports are her favorite.”
“I like her already.” I grin.
“We kissed,” he replies.
My mouth falls open, and I stare at him. He can’t hide the faint blush that blooms across his cheeks.
He glances over at me, his eyes twinkling.
“Was it a good kiss?” I ask.
His lips stretch into a smile. “It was a great kiss.”
“You stud,” I cheer.
His blush deepens.
I’ve never asked, but I think Gavin might be a virgin. If not, he’s very inexperienced with the ladies. Since we’ve been working together, he’s only dated sporadically. With each woman he’s dated, things moved so slowly, he eventually was relegated to the friend zone. A kiss on the first date was unheard of.
“That is amazing, Gav. When are you seeing her again?”
He frowns. “I’m not sure.”
“What? Why aren’t you sure?” I ask.
His index fingers start tapping the steering wheel. “We exchanged numbers. I’m waiting for her to call me.”
“Did you tell her to call you?” I press.
He cringes and looks at me. “Was I supposed to?”
I roll my eyes. “Gavin. First off, don’t be a wuss. You call her. If you’re too freaked to, at least text her.”
“What should I say?” he asks.
He is so lucky he has me. “It’s still early so I’ll help you with want to say once we’re done filming. Has Brenda texted you at all?”
He shrugs. “No clue. My phone is in my equipment bag if you want to check.”
True friendship is knowing each other’s unlock codes. I turn in my seat and shove my hand in his bag, fumbling around until I find his phone.
“No messages,” I murmur after checking his notifications. “Hey, when’d you change your background pic?”
“Oh, I took that pic yesterday. Like it?”
His pit bull, Beast, is front and center, a giant puppy grin on his face. “I love it. I need to come over and hang with my buddy Beast again. He looks so handsome.”
Gav smiles like a proud papa. “Claire likes dogs. I showed her his pic last night.”
“Who wouldn’t love him?” I ask.
He nods in agreement. Gav adopted him after we filmed a special adoption drive segment at the animal shelter.
That was a year ago. Beast was only fifteen pounds when he got him. Now, he’s over forty pounds now, and he’s not even full-grown.
We pull up to the flower show and Gav parks. I munch on one last cracker before getting out. Gav is already unloading.
“Need a hand?” I offer.
He hefts his equipment bag onto his shoulder and replies, “I got it.”
Together we walk to the entrance. We’re here early to get footage before the doors open. Gav is going to film the exhibits and then my interview with the event organizer.
There’s a staff member waiting for us at the entrance.
The moment I’m inside the space, the smell overwhelms me. Ferncliff Community Center has been jammed back with flowers of every size, color, and variety.
Snaking my arm out, I grab Gav’s arm and cover my mouth with my other hand.
“Are you going to puke?” he whispers.
I gulp and shake my head. My response is more bravado than anything else.
“It’s the smell,” I admit.
Gav points toward the back of the hall. “There are less flowers over in that corner. Go see if the smell still bothers you there. If it does, I can film your interview at the entrance.”
Nodding, I do as he says and make my way to the back corner. Gavin unpacks his camera and gets right to work. His idea of my standing where I am was a good one. That, or I’ve gotten used to the aromas.
Now that I don’t feel like puking, it’s fun to stand back and watch Gavin at work. He’s so good at what he does. Like me, if he ever wanted to move to a bigger market, he could.
He has different reasons for wanting to stay in Ferncliff. Plus, he’s comfortable here. As different as we are personality wise, that’s one thing we share in common. I watch as he moves from booth to booth, so distracted I don’t notice Tad approach until he’s right next to me.
“You’re looking lovely today,” he purrs.
My nausea returns, and this time it has nothing to do with the flowers.
Plastering on my work smile, I reply, “Tad, what a surprise. I didn’t realize you would be here.”
His chest poofs out like a proud bird displaying his feathers. “Stan mentioned you were filming here today. My place,” his brows rise on the word place
and my stomach rolls,
“isn’t far from here so I decided to swing by so I could see you in action.”
His voice drops to a quieter register for the word action, making it sound dirtier than it normally would.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I reply with a fake grin stretching my mouth. “You’ll get to see the edited piece.
“Maybe coming is an excuse to see our prettiest reporter,” he flirts
Gross. I’ll need to take at least three showers to wash his presence away. We have to work together though, so publically I can’t knee him in the balls and tell him to go play in traffic.
“You flatter me,” I manage, and then add, “you do know I’m seeing someone.”
He frowns. If only I had seen him like this when my crush on him was blossoming. It would have suffered a swift death, and I never would have worked up the nerve to ever flirt with him.
“What are you doing dating some cop? You can do much better.”
His implication is clear. He is somehow under the delusion that he is superior to Trip.
I’m saved from attempting a response when Gavin hurries over.
“Hey Tad. Didn’t expect to see you here. Was there a change to the segment?”
He makes a production of pulling his cell out before saying, “I didn’t get a text of any changes.”
Tad opens his mouth but I save both Gav and my having to listen to him by speaking first. “Oh, Tad heard we were filming here and wanted to come be supportive. He is such a team player.”
I’m proud of myself for not gagging at any point during my speech.
To Tad, I say, “Gav and I have to go. You understand. Work, work, work. Thanks for stopping by. See you at the station.”
I loop my arm through Gavin’s and tug him away, turning my head over my shoulder to wave bye to Tad as Gavin and I walk away.
“Well done,” Gavin mutters under his breath as we go.
“He is so annoying,” I grumble once we’re safely out of earshot.
“He’s more than annoying, Reilly.”
“It gets worse. You haven’t heard what he said about Trip yet,” I reply.
He stops abruptly, making me skid to a halt next to him. “What did he say?”
“Act natural,” I whisper, tugging at his arm. “He’s probably still watching us.”
He starts moving again, and I lift my hand to wave at a couple venders. “He said I should be dating someone better.”
Gavin shakes his head but continues forward. “Maybe you should tell Trip he said that.”
I close my eyes and roll them against my lids. It’s a trick I learned early on in my reporting career. Eye rolling is bad but sometimes unavoidable. As long as your eyes are closed when you do it, you still get the satisfaction while to everyone else it looks like you’re blinking.
“Yeah, great idea, real professional. I’ll have my baby daddy beat him up so he’ll leave me alone.”
Gavin sniffs in annoyance. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind kicking Tad’s ass for me, but Gav is about as threatening as a golden retriever.
“I can tell Trip myself or Jake,” he argues.
My jaw tightens. “Do not. I can handle Tad myself. His contract is up next year. If we’re lucky, he’ll move to a bigger market.”
Gavin stops me, glancing behind us before saying, “He’s gone. Now, how’s your nausea?”
I look back at his words and see, as he said that Tad is gone. “The flowers aren’t bothering me anymore.”
“Good. Let’s knock out your interview now, and we can talk more about that creep on the ride back to the station.”
“Fine,” I reply.
“I think we should film here.” He points to the display he’s stopped us in front of. It’s the official logo for the event, similar to the banner out front, only this one is made completely out of flowers.
“It’s perfect,” I agree.
He leaves me to go find the event organizer. Now that my stomach isn’t revolting, I’m able to appreciate the displays. It’s a flower show; there are local nurseries and landscape companies. There are also bakeries, crafters, and some unexpected venders like a financial advisement company.
“Thank you so much for giving us a sneak peek,” I greet, offering my hand to the organizer once Gavin is back with her.
Our interview is short. The segment we’re doing is going to be two minutes. We cover the who, what, where, when, and how to attend of the event.
Gavin wastes no time once we’re back in the van to resurrect our earlier conversation. “If Tad was going to leave Ferncliff to go to another news station, he would have done it by now. He’s not going anywhere, and they’ll keep renewing his contract if you don’t say anything.”
“He’s going to get tired of me and start bothering someone else at some point,” I argue.
His forehead wrinkles. “You’re cool with him annoying someone we work with?”
My mouth twists. “No.”
“Good. I think we should report him for sexual harassment.”
I cringe. It sounds so easy, but will turn into my word against his. He’s been at the station a lot longer than I have. Other than making me uncomfortable by standing too close or adding inflection to some of his words to make whatever he is saying to me imply a different meaning.
“I can’t report him,” I argue.
We’ve had this conversation enough that Gavin thankfully doesn’t argue with me.
“We need to do something,” he replies.
I reach over and squeeze his arm. “I promise I’ll think about it.” My other hand comes to rest on my stomach. “Who knows, he’ll probably stop once I start showing.”
“Are you freaked about what Stan might say?”
I won’t be the first reporter to get pregnant out of wedlock. Our market isn’t in the bible belt, so hopefully there won’t be any backlash once I start showing with our viewers. The folks in town all know me, and the people who live within our signal range hopefully have grown to like me since I’ve been on the air.
“I’m not going to try and hide it from him. I need to find the right time to tell him. The worst he can do is not renew my contract.”
News stations work like sports teams. We are all under contract and are basically free agents. My last contract was a three-year deal. I’m up for renewal this year. If I had ambitions to move to another market, I’d be sending my portfolio and resume out right now. I haven’t since I want to stay here forever. Hopefully Stan won’t be pissed I got knocked up.
“People love you here,” he replies encouragingly.
“Well, no one has brought up my live-feed fall recently. This will sure give them something to talk about.”
“I wonder if he’ll want you to try and hide it as long as possible, or go public right away.”
“It all seems pointless. It’ll be impossible to hide it anyway.”
“That’s not true. With camera angles and positioning we can keep your pregnancy off of the air. They do it on TV shows for actresses all the time.”
“You’re joking right?” I laugh. “That might work for our segments, but the second I walk into Lola’s with a belly out to here,” I hold my hand out in front of my belly, “people are going to figure it out.”
We get back to the station and have our clip edited and ready for this evening’s broadcast. Then we, and by we, I mean I text Claire for Gavin.
He hovers over my shoulder as I text back and forth with her. By the time I’m done, they have a date scheduled for this weekend.
“You are the best,” Gavin repeats himself for the hundredth time as we walk out to the parking lot.
“Stop, stop or my ego is going to get out of control,” I joke.
“You heading to Jake’s now?” he asks, thankfully changing the subject.
Climbing into my Jeep, I nod. “Wish me luck.”
“You and Jake are tight. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
There’s a pounding a
t my door. Reilly is supposed to come over later, but she has a key so there’s no way that can be her.
“Coming!” I holler, rising from my sofa.
Whoever is banging on my door better have a good fucking reason for it.
I jerk the door open and find myself nose to nose with a pissed off Jake Whitmore. Before I can invite him in or offer my jaw to break, Reilly’s Jeep comes to a screeching stop into my driveway.
“Shit,” Jake mutters, watching her burst from her car.
“Go home, Jake. Get in your truck and you go home right now,” she shouts as she approaches.
“Reilly, this doesn’t involve you,” he moves to stand between us.
“Like hell it doesn’t,” I growl, pushing past him to her.
Once I’m close enough to reach her, I do, pulling her into a hug. “You okay, baby?”
“I’m so sorry about this. I didn’t think he’d freak this bad,” she murmurs, glaring at her brother.
“It’s okay. Let’s all go inside.” I glance around and lift my chin toward a neighbor checking his mail.
Reilly’s head turns as she follows my gaze. Then her eyes widen and she shifts her attention back to Jake before hissing, “See that, Jake. You had to come down here and cause a big scene in front of Trip’s neighbors, who are also my neighbors.”
I grab her hand and lead her to my door, motioning for Jake to go in ahead of us. The place I’m renting is a three-bedroom ranch. The front door opens onto the living room.
Jake stands right by the door as I move Reilly past him toward my sofa. I was watching a game on TV when they showed, so I grab the remote to turn it off.
“Reilly,” Jake starts, but she shakes her head.
“You have some nerve, Jake. I came to you trying to be a grown up about all of this, and you decide to flip out and come . . .” she pauses before going on, “ . . . come what, Jake? What were you going to do here?”
She doesn’t give him a chance to reply as she starts listing off options. “Were you going to yell at him or beat him up? What are you doing here?”
“Trip and I need to have words,” Jake replies, steel dripping from his voice.
“Words?” She laughs.
“Want a drink?” I ask Jake.
He blinks and Reilly stiffens next to me. “You’re offering him a drink?”
Why Not? (Love Riddles Book 3) Page 9
