“That’s a lame excuse. Postpone it. You can sleep next week. Besides, you’re my free single friend and I need a plus one for the red carpet.”
“What happened? Did somebody stand you up?” She tilted her chin challengingly.
He overlooked the dig. His gaze dipped unintentionally to the distracting amber pendant.
“I have a cameo in this movie. Along with Nick and Ella Swift. I don’t need a date. But I’d like it if you came along. It’ll be like tonight. Just friends.” Her hand rested on the table. He closed his fingers over hers. “I’ve only just found you again. I’m not ready to let you go.” A shiver ran down his spine.
She laughed off his comment. “I’d stick out like a sore thumb on the red carpet.”
“Rubbish. You’ll be superb.” He turned her hand over in his and traced a figure of eight on the palm. “Besides,” he continued, “With you around, Nick won’t be able to strangle me with the garlic.”
“I haven’t said yes yet.”
“Say you’ll think about it. I’ve got to go to a charity event at the Empire State Building on Saturday night. It’s very glam. You’ll love it.”
Maggie’s eyes shone. She pulled him to his feet. “Come on.” Her sexy smile worked on him like a spell, and he began to wonder, not for the first time, if he’d actually be able to keep to the just-friends bargain. “I want to dance.” She dragged him across the empty diner to an old jukebox in a corner. He stifled a groan, knowing he’d set himself a heck of a challenge.
He peered at the song titles. “There are some seriously old 45s in there.”
“All 45s are seriously old. Got a quarter?”
Alex dug in his pocket and handed her a coin. He watched the concentration on her face as she chose a record and posted his quarter in the slot. The music started slow, his arms closed around her and he pulled her close, looked down into her upturned face and placed a feather-light kiss on her forehead. She smiled and spun out of his hold as the tempo picked up, dancing and singing along like she used to do when they were students.
When the music stopped he planted himself between her and the jukebox, refusing to let her avoid his gaze.
“It’s just a weekend. Come to New York.”
“I don’t know.” She bit her lip. “It’s a bit spur of the moment.”
Not used to having to work too hard to get a yes out of someone, and equally unused to hearing no, he wasn’t about to give up.
“Spur of the moment’s what you do. Spontaneity’s your specialty. Or – it used to be before you decided to try for a donor baby at twenty-nine …”
That was the wrong thing to say. Momentarily she froze.
“Look, I’d like to come, but I can’t.” A shimmer of awareness zapped between them. Bad timing. “I’d love to go to New York with you. It sounds fantastic. But I have to focus on the future. I’m going home to find out if I’m pregnant.”
“One. Week. End.” He said the words slowly as if that would mesmerize her into saying yes. “When the baby comes you’ll have someone else to think about for the next eighteen years.”
“A baby’s a lifetime commitment, not a life sentence.”
“Sure.” He applauded her positivity, her determination to make her dreams happen. “That’s why, this one time, it’s not going to hurt to live for the moment.”
His father acted like a wife and kids were a prison he had to escape from. Doesn’t Count On Location was Drake Wells’ mantra. His conquests might have been disposable, but each new rumor, every tabloid photo, put Cassandra through hell. Alex had mostly blocked it out. Trying to figure out Drake was a waste of effort. Alex sometimes wondered if he’d resented being their non-biological dad so badly that he’d deliberately tortured their mother with his endless affairs. Maggie’s baby plan forced him to remember things he’d rather forget. It got under his skin.
Drake moved out when Nick and Alex were six. The night he left was one of Alex’s clearest childhood memories. He and Nick had been watching TV when it all kicked off – the shouting and Cassandra’s choking sobs. He’d turned the volume way up. It didn’t block out the door slamming, the rev of a car’s engine, and the angry screech of wheels on gravel as Drake drove away. Afterwards, his mother, white as a ghost, came in and switched off the television. She’d read them a story – The Little Engine That Could – and put them to bed. The empty silence after their father had gone seemed louder than any of the noise that preceded his leaving.
He could have stuck around stoically in the wings of their life, but he chose not to; with the exception of fleeting visits to their boarding school when they were teens, occasions that were more about Drake being seen than about connecting with his sons. He might have won acting awards, but he wouldn’t get one for playing the dutiful father.
“What are we waiting for? Let’s go back to the hotel and do this pregnancy test. What’ll it take? Five minutes?”
Maggie looked unconvinced. “About that.”
“At least you’ll know where you stand. If it’s a yes, you can come to New York and party.”
“And if it’s a no?”
“Then we can really party! I’ll take you to a high-style cocktail lounge and buy you the most expensive cocktail on the menu. No gummy bears allowed.” Her brows knitted. “To commiserate, naturally.”
Chapter Eight
Any minute now she’d have her answer.
Three different pregnancy tests sat in a row on the marble counter top in the en-suite bathroom of Maggie’s hotel room. She’d used a pink one, a blue one, and one that gave the result in words – “Pregnant” or “Not Pregnant”.
Which would it be? Maggie was desperate to know. She’d been a little bit afraid to find out until Alex persuaded her to go for it. He was too funny offering to trade her a whale-watch for an A-list weekend in New York. Was he serious? Who wouldn’t want to be his date? Or, in her case, not-a-date.
He’d been sweet tonight. They were getting into the swing of this just-good-friends thing, like they were going back to square one. It felt good, really good. Except the kiss had been a blip. It wasn’t just the Jago factor, she fancied the pants off him, and if she went to New York, she might not be able to help herself, she might end up tearing his clothes off.
Awkward.
She’d buried her feelings for him years ago, but she and Alex had an unfinished fling between them, and she couldn’t be sure of sticking to her own rules. What if she actually wanted him to try out some of those dodgy vampire moves after all?
Impossible to avoid her reflection in the vast bathroom mirror, she looked into it and gave herself a wicked little smile.
Some rules are made to be broken.
She checked her watch. Two minutes to go. She lowered the lid on the toilet and plonked herself there, picking at the purple varnish on her thumbnail as the seconds counted down. When the time was up she carried on picking.
There was a lump in her throat as if she’d swallowed a bar of hotel soap. Why was she doing this?
She wanted a baby because she wanted to put everything right that had been wrong in her own childhood. As a little girl she’d learned to fade into the background, being good, keeping quiet, trying not to be a nuisance. She didn’t ask too many questions. The answers hurt too much. Deep down she knew that she’d been rejected by her mother because she reminded her of her dad. She looked at Maggie and saw Sam, and if she couldn’t have Sam, she didn’t want Maggie. She’d overheard her mother say so just days before she left. Standing outside the kitchen door she’d watched through a crack while her mother ripped up photos, her face tear-blotched. “Why does she have to look just like him?” she’d spluttered at Maggie’s grandmother. “I don’t see any Plumtree in her at all. She’s got his eyes, his hair, his smile.” She’d sounded cross, exasperated that her daughter had failed to be a mini version of herself. “She’s arty like he was – a useless, head-in-the-clouds, fly-by-night … Why couldn’t he stay alive? He didn’t even do that much
right!”
Maggie’s sense of cold confusion was stamped on her memory. With a sperm-donor dad there was no danger that she’d ever end up so angry and disappointed with her own child. She was ready to be the mum she wished she’d had. For her it would be better without the mangled emotion of loving the baby’s dad.
A wave of nauseous panic hit Maggie. She couldn’t bring herself to look at the test results. She needed a friend to look for her and tell her yes or no.
There was nothing else for it. She grabbed all three of the tests. Looking away and keeping her hand firmly over the result windows, she opened the bathroom door and marched into the bedroom.
Alex was standing by the window, staring out into the night. He turned to look at her, six foot plus of awesome man with the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.
“So?” Silence. “And?” Silence. “Please, Maggie. Don’t keep me in suspense.”
Silence. Maggie closed her eyes and stretched her arm out to him, fingers still wrapped around the test windows. Silence.
“I can’t look.”
Alex took her hand gently in his and unwound her fingers. “Would you like me to look for you?” His deep voice made her nerves jangle all the more.
“Yes please.” Face unattractively contorted, she opened one eye, and kept the other scrunched closed.
“Ready?” He was still holding her hands in his, balancing the clutch of tests in their joined fingers as if they were as delicate as eggs.
“Uh-huh.” She opened the other eye. “Ready.”
Silence.
“Well?”
“You’re having a baby!” He rumbled out the gravelly words on a breath.
“I am? Are you sure?”
“Look for yourself.”
She clutched the sticks and stared. Sure enough: blue lines, pink lines and the word “Pregnant” in clear black letters.
“Should I do another one just to make sure? I’ve got one that shows up a plus or a negative sign. It might be more scientific.”
“You don’t need a control test. You’ve done three already. There’s no doubt about it. You’re pregnant.”
Maggie’s emotions had gone from panic and fear to disbelief, and finally pure joy.
“Oh my stars. This is fantastic. I can hardly believe it’s happening. I’m pregnant.” She beamed. “I’m having a baby.”
“Yep. It says it right there. You’re going to be a mom.”
“Wow. It’s all I’ve wanted for the longest time. A real family of my own.”
“Cool.” His voice had turned to a solemn rasp. “It’s great. Well done, Maggie.” It felt like he was going to pat her on the back, or shake her hand, or something. She wanted to hug him, but she held back.
“You can kiss goodbye to sleep. And sex. Oh no, wait a minute.” He clapped a hand to his forehead theatrically, “Silly me. You already did that.”
Why couldn’t he say he was pleased for her?
“I’m not a nun,” she retaliated. “I just knew The One wasn’t going to happen for me. And I didn’t want to have a baby with someone who might end up losing interest and walking away from his child. A dad who’s not in the picture at the moment of conception can’t walk away because he was never there in the first place.”
She didn’t add that she wouldn’t have to look at her growing child and see the face of someone she’d loved and who didn’t love her back, see someone whose very existence made her ache because she spoke, moved, laughed like him and made her cry because everything about her reminded her of someone she wanted to forget. That’s how it had been for her mother. That’s why she’d run away.
“Listen, about New York. I didn’t mean to pressurize you. If you’re not up for it, it’s fine.”
“I’ve thought it over.” Maggie jumped in before he could get another word out. “I’ll have to pass on the fancy cocktails.” She made a sad face. “But, if the offer’s still there, I’d love to come. I haven’t taken time off to do something fun for months. And now that I know – for sure – I feel like celebrating. It’ll be lovely. I haven’t got the foggiest idea what to wear, but I can figure that one out – there’s time. And fashion’s what I do, right?”
“It certainly is.” His lips curved into a super-sexy smile. “I can make a couple of calls. Between us we should be able to guarantee that you’re red-carpet-ready.”
“You know what this means?” Alex looked straight at her, his eyes unguarded, the black pupils reminded her of two dots under puzzled question marks. “You’re still up for watching whales, aren’t you? We had a deal.”
“Sure,” he croaked.
“I need to go to bed. I don’t like to throw you out, but I really need to sleep.” She stood on tiptoes in front of Alex, leant up and brushed her cheek against his hard jaw line. Mmm. “Goodnight,” she breathed against his ear. “And thanks, Alex. I really appreciate that you were here tonight, for this.” She pressed the palm of her hand against her flat stomach. A new life was forming inside her.
He walked to the door and looked back over his shoulder before turning the handle. He was the same gorgeous guy he’d been when he’d walked away without a backward glance. And she’d let him go, heavy-hearted that he hadn’t phoned. Her emotions were all over the place. She had to say something.
“I’d no idea how badly I needed a friend.”
Alex stopped, walked back to Maggie, pulled her into his arms and gave her the biggest, warmest, loveliest hug. “See you tomorrow.”
“Can’t wait.” Suddenly he was gone. There was an empty space where he’d been. And a whole heap of happy in her heart. She was in the best mood ever. Excited, and a teeny bit scared. Experiencing both feelings together was bewildering – and wonderful. She’d done it. She’d created her designer baby.
She sat down heavily on the end of her bed. Alone. Until about a minute ago she’d been elated, so sure that this was what she wanted. And it was. She was going to be a mum. A single mum. Unlike tonight she’d have no one to share this with. She’d thought she was prepared but now that Alex had gone and reality was kicking in, a seed of trepidation at what she’d planned for her future sowed itself in her soul. She might turn out to be just like her mother, unable to hack being a single parent. She steeled herself. She’d made this choice and she was determined to make it work. She had something to prove.
The high speed catamaran flew along, heading out to sea. The waves were still choppy from the stormy weather. White-crested, every so often the boat would hit a big one, showering the deck. The perky guide, a marine biologist, filled the passengers in on pertinent cetacean facts until they reached the place where the whales usually hung out, and the skipper cut the engine.
Amused at having Jago from Mercy of the Vampires as her new best friend, Maggie was getting used to the interest Alex generated – and the curious looks people gave her. Normally, she didn’t get noticed. It was her job to make other people stand out from the crowd. Clients appreciated her neutrality. Unobtrusive, all her creativity went into her projects.
The epitome of male beauty, Alex was amazing. And so were the whales. At first she didn’t think they’d see one. They scoured the grey sea, watching, waiting, and suddenly, before the marine guide had even spotted it, Alex saw one off the port bow.
He pushed his dark glasses up onto his head. “Look!” He stood behind her and pointed, guiding her eyes with the direction of his arm. The other hand rested on her shoulder. A zing of pleasure zipped through her body. “Over there.”
The whale’s slick back was clearly visible.
“Wow!” she gasped.
“Amazing,” Alex admitted.
“Now you know how it feels.”
“Are you suggesting that when people recognize me it’s like they’re seeing a whale for the first time?”
She tilted her head to look him in the eyes teasingly. “Something along those lines.”
He smiled in that breath-stealing way of his. Her heart did a somersault. The roll of the
ocean, seeing whales in their natural environment, and sharing the whole experience with Alex was too cool.
The boat rolled on a big wave and she lolloped sideways. She automatically grabbed onto him to steady herself. “Easy does it.” His arms closed around her from behind, holding her firmly. He drew her securely against his body. A column of masculine muscle, his gentle strength felt fantastic. She shivered, despite being wrapped in fleece and waterproofs. “Cold?” He lightly rubbed her arms and massaged her shoulders.
“Brrr. Yes, kind of.” It wasn’t exactly true, more a frisson of sweet, spine-tingling desire. It was hard not to be attracted to him. For flip’s sake, Alex Wells had to be the hottest friend any girl ever had.
He’d been her ordinary friend before he’d been her famous friend. She struggled to hang onto that fact. It was great that they’d got past the embarrassing blip of their disastrous night in bed together. It had been struck from the record – any glimmers of attraction were hiccups, a bi-product of the celebrity thing. Except, who was she kidding? Even allowing for the Jago factor, that kiss on the beach had been hot heaven.
The whale surfaced and gave a blast from its blow-hole. The whiff turned Maggie’s stomach. It was like sharing an elevator with an appallingly flatulent being who’d been overindulging in a bout of extreme dietary indiscretion involving seafood.
Alex took a picture on his phone. He caught Maggie, looking greenish, at the very moment when the whale went into a dive. Its body an arc, the dorsal fin stood out clearly in the background.
“Glad you came?” she asked, when they’d stopped laughing about the dodgy smell and how awful she looked in the picture.
“Very.” His deep voice ignited little flames of heat. His strong arms closed around her again, keeping her steady on the shifting ocean. Leaning against all that muscle felt delicious. The friends thing was becoming more of a conundrum every minute. She was a smidge out of control – all those overactive pregnancy hormones whizzing around her system. “How are you feeling?” he asked. “Has it sunk in yet?” Close against him, her limbs brushing his, he felt like a very sexy bodyguard.
The Little Shop of Afternoon Delights Page 10
