* * *
“I’M HAVING WINE,” Crissy said as they took their seats in the restaurant after knitting class. “I need it. I swear, I have an anti-knitting gene. If it wasn’t that I wanted to hang out with you two so much, I would have given up that first week.”
“You’re not that bad,” Noelle said kindly.
“Jan flinched when I showed her what I’d done. Did you see that?” Crissy asked, then shook her head. “I know you’re going to want to take the advanced class and she’s never going to let me. She’ll probably hire a security guard just to keep me out.”
Rachel laughed. “I don’t think she cares that much. You’re doing fine.”
Crissy picked up her menu. “You mean you’re able to rework what I’ve messed up and it looks okay.” She shook her head. “I need to let it go. I’m a good person with a successful career.”
“And a really nice car,” Noelle added.
“Very upscale,” Rachel said, remembering the too-cute coupe her friend had leased that week.
“I have good friends,” Crissy said. “That should be enough, right? I don’t date, but that’s by choice. Another first date is the last thing I need. So I’m good. I can let the knitting thing go.”
“Let it fly free,” Rachel told her. “The yarn will thank you.”
Noelle chuckled. Crissy rolled her eyes. “It’s not my fault,” she muttered as she opened her menu. “I hate the yarn.”
“It knows,” Rachel said, hiding her smile. “It knows and it flinches when it sees you coming.”
Crissy set down her menu and leaned across the table. “It’s not fair. I have absolutely no crafty or homemaking type talents.”
Rachel thought of her friend’s minichain of women-only gyms. She’d opened her fourth the previous year and was looking at locations for a fifth.
“Want to trade paychecks?” Rachel asked brightly.
Crissy grinned. “Thanks, but no. You do a good thing, teaching those little kids, and you’ll get your reward in heaven. Mine is more immediate.”
“That’s okay,” Rachel assured her. “I’ve always wanted to be a kindergarten teacher.” She’d planned to dance for ten or fifteen years, then go teach. As it was, the teaching had started a little early.
Crissy picked up her menu. “What are we all having? Rachel, have some wine, please. I hate to drink alone and Noelle is obviously out of the running on that.”
Rachel opened her mouth, then closed it. She wasn’t sure what to say, or how. Of course she’d planned on telling her friends about the baby, but now? Like this?
Noelle glanced at her. “Are you all right? You’ve been a little quiet all evening.”
“I’m good,” Rachel said.
Crissy smiled. “So what’s going on? It had to be something, because I know you’re not pregnant like this one here.”
Rachel drew in a breath. “Actually, I am.”
Noelle’s eyes widened. “Rachel, are you serious? Really? That’s so great.”
Crissy blinked twice, then raised her arm. “Waiter, I need a margarita here. Right away.” She lowered her arm. “Pregnant? As in ‘with child’? Are you sure?”
Rachel nodded. “I peed on seven sticks. It was quite the event.”
“So there’s a guy,” Crissy said. “There has to be a guy. But I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.” She looked at Noelle. “Did you know?”
“No.” Noelle glanced between them. “She’s right. There’s a guy. So who is he?”
“A complicated question,” Rachel admitted.
The waiter appeared with Crissy’s drink. They placed their food order and when he was gone, Noelle leaned forward and rested her forearms on the table.
“Spill,” she said.
Rachel sipped her water. “Okay, I’ll tell you, but please don’t judge me. I never do this sort of thing. I don’t date much and I never ever sleep with a guy right away.”
Crissy picked up her drink. “You slept with a guy on the first date? Wow—my respect was linked to your ability to knit and hang out with little kids, but this is even better. Tell everything. Start at the beginning and talk slowly.”
Rachel explained about going to the bar with Diane and how Carter bought her a drink and that they got to talking. She detailed Diane driving off without her and that Carter had offered her a lift.
“It was supposed to just be a good-night kiss,” Rachel admitted. “I never expected to lose control like that.”
“It must have been some kiss,” Crissy said.
Rachel willed herself not to blush. “We, ah, got swept away. Like in the movies. He left the next morning for an early meeting. He wrote me a note and gave me his phone number.”
Noelle folded her arms over her chest. “You’ve been going out all this time and never told us?”
“We haven’t been dating,” Rachel said.
Crissy sipped her drink. “You met a guy who kisses so great you were compelled to have sex with him and you’re not dating?”
“I didn’t call him.”
“Why not?” Noelle and Crissy asked together.
Rachel moved her fork around on her napkin. “I don’t know. I didn’t know what to say. I mean, what would he think of me after that night we’d spent together? I’m not really that kind of person.”
Crissy rolled her eyes. “You didn’t call him because you thought he’d think you were slutty.” She paused. “Do we still say ‘slutty’? Am I dating myself?”
“You’re doing fine,” Noelle told her, then turned to Rachel. “I know you’d feel awkward, but why wouldn’t you want to see him again?”
Rachel honestly didn’t have an answer. Now that she’d talked to Carter again, even under really difficult circumstances, she’d seen that she liked him, even without the sex thing.
“It’s complicated,” she said. “I thought avoiding him was for the best.”
“But then you turned up pregnant,” Crissy said. “That had to have been an interesting conversation. Or have you told him yet.”
“I told him,” she said. “Actually, first I went to a lawyer.”
She explained about the paperwork she’d had drawn up.
Noelle gasped. “Did he sign it? Did he really sign away his baby?”
“No,” Rachel admitted. “He refused. I think he was kind of insulted I’d even asked. Then his mother and two of his sisters walked in and they know I’m pregnant.”
Crissy and Noelle exchanged a confused look. “Where did his mother come from?” Crissy asked.
Rachel explained about meeting at the bar and Jenny and then following Carter home.
“His mother thinks we should get married.”
“She’s right,” Noelle said primly. “You’re having a baby together. It’s the right thing to do.”
“It’s a new century,” Crissy said. “No one has to get married anymore. At least not here. Rachel, honey, you do whatever you want. If that means being a single mom, then yay you.”
“Work isn’t a problem,” she said slowly. “One of the other teachers got pregnant and had a baby last year and she’s not married.”
Noelle leaned forward. “Of course you can be a single parent if you want to be, but isn’t that the question? Do you want to do this on your own? Dev and I had a marriage of convenience and look how that turned out.”
“You’re the one in a million,” Crissy said. “Rachel, you don’t have to marry a complete stranger.”
“Actually he’s not a complete stranger,” Noelle said smugly. “She’s seen him naked.”
“There is that,” Crissy said. “What do you want?”
Rachel sighed. “I don’t know. Carter and I have agreed to get to know each other and then figure things out. And don’t forget, the marriage wa
s his mother’s idea, not his. He never mentioned it at all.”
“What would you have said if he had?” Noelle asked.
“I don’t know that, either,” she admitted. She thought about her conversation with Carter. “Do I dress like a nun?”
Noelle had been drinking her water and now she choked as she tried not to spit. “What?”
“My clothes. I try to dress low-key for the kids. Plus I need things that are washable. But do I dress... I don’t know...too conservative?”
Crissy eyed her short-sleeved blouse and long skirt. “You’re not on the fashion cutting edge, but you always look nice. Who said you dressed like a nun?”
Rachel shrugged.
“Carter,” Crissy said knowingly.
“He didn’t mean it in a bad way,” Rachel told her. “He was talking about finding me attractive, even though I dress like a nun.”
“She’s defending him,” Noelle said conversationally. “That’s step one.”
“It’s not step anything,” Rachel said. “I’m explaining.”
“Oooh, step two,” Crissy teased. Then her smile faded. “Look, you have to do what feels right for you, Rachel. Whether it’s your clothes or your job or your baby. It is your baby, so don’t let anyone else make the decisions for you.”
“It’s also Carter’s baby,” Noelle said gently. “He sounds like a man who wants to be a father.”
“He is,” Rachel said, more confused than ever. “Plus there’s his whole family. They seem really nice.”
The kind of family she remembered hers being. Could she be a part of that now? Under these circumstances?
“Carter said we should take our time,” Rachel told him. “We’re going to meet and talk and figure it all out.”
“Sounds like a sensible plan to me,” Crissy said. “Just don’t be rash.”
“I don’t do rash,” Rachel said.
“All evidence to the contrary,” Crissy said, with a pointed glance at Rachel’s midsection.
“Okay. Just that one time. My point is, in one way or another I’ve been on my own since I was twelve. I know how to take care of myself.”
“Maybe that’s not the issue,” Noelle said. “Now there’s going to be someone else.”
“A baby,” Rachel murmured. “I’m still having trouble dealing with that. I don’t feel pregnant.”
“I didn’t for a long time, either,” Noelle said, “but I wasn’t talking about the baby. I meant there was going to be Carter.”
“But he’s not in my life.”
“If you’re going to have a baby together,” Crissy told her, “then I would say he is. Permanently.”
CHAPTER FIVE
RACHEL PACED NERVOUSLY the last twenty minutes before Carter was due to arrive. Despite his promise for them to just “talk,” she couldn’t help remembering what had happened the last time he’d been here. Even worse, she couldn’t seem to twist that remembering in such a way that she felt bad about it.
Okay, yes, the pregnancy had her totally freaked, and given the chance to magically undo the moment of conception, she was fairly sure she would. But she couldn’t help breathing just a little faster every time she recalled what she’d felt like when he’d touched her. Which meant she would have to be extra careful tonight and make sure there wasn’t a repeat of those events. Things between them were complicated enough without adding that to the mix.
She glanced around at the dining alcove in her apartment. She’d set the table three different ways and had finally settled on the more casual place mats and paper napkins. This wasn’t a date, after all. Just friends getting together to discuss some issues. Only she and Carter weren’t friends and a baby counted for more than just an “issue.”
She’d worked herself into such a frenzy that she was actually grateful when she heard footsteps on the balcony.
“Hi,” she said, pulling open the front before he could knock.
“Hi, yourself.” Carter smiled, then stepped inside. “I’d forgotten your thing for plants.”
“It’s a hobby,” she admitted, motioning to the hanging baskets and overflowing tiered plant stands in the living room.
He handed her a picnic basket. “Dinner,” he said. “I hope you like pasta.”
“Sure. Who doesn’t?”
He looked good. Normally she liked guys who were the more button-down-collar type, with short hair and loafers. Carter’s shaggy dark blond hair hung nearly to his shoulders. He wore his faded red shirt outside his battered jeans and while he’d put on loafers, they were old and he wasn’t wearing socks.
She should have been disapproving or at least unimpressed. Instead she found herself wanting to run her hands up and down his chest to see if the shirt was really as soft as it looked and he was as...
She hurried into the kitchen. Danger, she thought as she set the basket on the narrow counter. She had to keep her mind from wandering. She had to be smart and careful and...something else she couldn’t remember right now.
She opened the basket and stared at the stacked glass containers inside. “What is all this?”
Carter moved close and peered over her shoulder. “Ravioli, extra sauce, salad, dressing, garlic bread and something for dessert. I can’t tell what it is.”
“You don’t know what you made?”
He looked at her and grinned. “I didn’t cook any of this. My sisters make regular contributions to my refrigerator. Word got out that we were having dinner together tonight and this appeared. I only dragged it along.”
“Interesting system,” she said, thinking it would be pretty nice to find dinner waiting for her when she got home after a long day.
“I like it. I never know what’s for dinner, but then I enjoy surprises.”
Even mine? Except she didn’t ask the question—mostly because she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer.
“There are instructions,” he said, reaching around her and pulling a piece of paper out of the basket.
She was aware of how close they were standing and the way his forearm almost brushed against her waist.
He handed her a typed sheet and for a second she couldn’t unclog her brain enough to read. Then she blinked and the words came into focus.
“Ravioli on the stove with the extra sauce,” she said, telling herself it was a good thing that he moved back and refusing to feel disappointed that he hadn’t spun her in his arms and kissed her. “Garlic bread in the oven. Salad and dressing in the refrigerator along with the dessert. Oh, it’s tiramisu. Did one of your sisters really make it?”
“I guess.”
“I’ve never had it homemade before. I can’t wait.”
“Merry will be delighted to know she’s made a good impression.”
He gave her a smile that made her insides quiver. Okay, she had to get a grip. She was reacting to his superficial good looks and some chemistry. But there were things that were much more important than that. Such as who Carter was as a man. She should focus on the insides and ignore the pretty package.
She put the food away, started the oven to preheat it, then asked if he’d like something to drink.
“I got a six-pack of that beer you were drinking at the bar,” she said. “Would you like a bottle?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
She collected it and a bottle of water for herself, then led the way back into her small living room. As they sat on the sofa, Rachel did her best to ignore the fact that these cushions had been the scene of the crime less than a month ago.
“Your sisters must live close to you,” she said. “If they’re bringing over food.”
He leaned back and took a drink of his beer. “Too close. In a weak moment I bought a house on the same street as my mom and sisters. I like the free food delivery, but they�
�re always dropping in, as you saw. I would like to be a little farther away, but right now moving would take too much time.”
“Still, so much family nearby is nice.”
He studied her with his dark eyes. “What happened to your family?”
She smoothed the front of her khakis. “My parents and my brother were killed in a car accident when I was twelve. There were no other relatives.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, leaning toward her. “What happened to you? Where did you go?”
“Into foster care.” She shrugged. “Don’t worry. It wasn’t awful. The people who took me in were actually pretty nice. I grew up, finished high school and then went to college.”
“You make it sound easy,” he told her. “It can’t have been. In one second, everything changed for you.”
She still had nightmares about those days after the accident. About being all alone and knowing nothing would ever feel right again. She remembered vowing she would never, ever feel that much pain again and so far she’d managed to keep her word. She had friends, of course, but no one she couldn’t imagine living without.
“It was hard,” she admitted. “If I’d had grandparents or aunts or uncles, I think it would have been better. Some family to care about me.”
“Now you take care of other people’s children.”
She smiled. “I know—it’s not hard to figure out why I went into teaching. I wanted to be there for my kids.”
“How long have you been teaching?”
People usually asked more questions about her loss. She sensed that Carter wanted more information and she appreciated his sensitivity in changing the subject. “This is my fourth year. I love everything about it. Even the messes. I asked the principal about starting a small garden in the spring and she okayed a nice open area near the play yard. That will be fun.”
Circle of Friends Complete Collection Page 25
