Her Fill-In Fiancé

by Stacy Connelly

  “She’d take him back in a heartbeat,” Sophia was saying.

  “Would she?” he asked.

  Sophia sighed. “There are definitely still some feelings there. All those pictures she still carries around? And just hearing her say his name. I could tell how much she loves him.”

  Was Kayla the woman in love or was Sophia seeing in Kayla what she didn’t want to admit about herself? Was Sophia the one hoping the father of her child would come after her so she could take him back in a heartbeat?

  The thought of Sophia back with an SOB like Todd Dunworthy had Jake’s hands strangling the wheel. Losing Mollie had been a blow he’d never seen coming, but with that past experience, Jake didn’t dare close his eyes to the possibility of Sophia going back to Todd—no matter what she said.

  He could feel the curiosity in Sophia’s gaze, but he kept his own focused on the windshield as if he was darting in and out of L.A. traffic instead of the only car on a two-lane country road.

  “You were pretty good with that car seat…and with Annabel.”

  He heard the question behind her words, and part of him wanted to tell Sophia everything—about Mollie, about Josh, even about his own less than ideal childhood so she’d realize how lucky her child would be to grow up surrounded by a family like hers.

  But his feelings of failure—as a son, as a wannabe father—clogged his throat with regret and made it impossible for Jake to tell Sophia anything close to the truth.

  Instead, he shrugged and said, “Must be beginner’s luck.”

  A tension-filled silence followed until he sensed Sophia shift away to stare out the side window. “Yeah, that must be it.”

  Disappointment filled her voice, and Jake wished he could believe it was only his lack of an answer that had let her down.

  Standing on the Pirellis’ back porch, Jake breathed in a combination of clean, crisp air and freshly brewed coffee drifting from the open kitchen window. Vanessa Pirelli was inside fixing breakfast. He’d insisted a cup of coffee was all he needed, but she’d scolded him with a frown. “Coffee is a beverage, not a breakfast. What would you like? Any favorites I could make for you?”

  A long-ago memory surfaced. His mother standing at a tiny, dingy stove in their tiny, dingy apartment making slightly burned pancakes in abstract shapes.

  What do you see, Jake? she’d ask as she set a plate in front of him with a smile. A dog? A lion? A bear?

  He’d come up with the craziest animal he could think of in response, and his mother would tease, You must be the luckiest boy in the world to have aardvark for breakfast.

  But the weekend ritual—and Jake’s boyhood luck—came to an abrupt end once his mother remarried. Cold cereal and colder conversation in a formal dining room replaced pancakes and laughter.

  Being surrounded by Pirellis made comparisons to his own life inevitable, but he’d learned his lesson when it came to family. Truth was, he was much better off without ties. Ties were all too painful when cut.

  But with Vanessa waiting for an answer, he couldn’t tell her his idea of breakfast was an energy bar eaten in the car on the way to work, and that was just the way he liked it. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say until he suddenly blurted out, “French toast.”

  He knew exactly where the answer came from as the combination of flavors—the vanilla and cinnamon taste of Sophia’s kiss—burst to sensual life against his tongue.

  After their second date spent at a local church fair, Sophia confessed a craving for something sweet. They’d found an all night diner where she’d pored over the desserts before admitting what she really wanted was on the breakfast menu.

  He should have picked up on her hesitation as Sophia had explained away her choice as a sudden craving. But he hadn’t thought anything about it at the time, and once Sophia let out a sigh of pleasure, he hadn’t been thinking at all. When she offered him a bite, he’d ignored the fork she held out, tasting the sweet syrup and powdered sugar topping straight from her lips.

  “Is that your favorite?” Vanessa had asked, snapping him back to reality.

  His answer was the same as the one he’d given when Sophia asked, desire bringing a flush to her cheeks and darkening her eyes. “It is now.”

  He wasn’t sure how he was going to sit across from her parents, making any sort of intelligent conversation, when he knew at the first bite he’d want to haul Sophia into his arms the same way he had the second they left the diner.

  Maybe he was subconsciously torturing himself for lying to Sophia, he thought wryly. And it would be torture. To sit so close, to breathe in the scent of her skin, to taste the memory of her kiss in each bite of French toast, knowing memory could never compare with the real woman at his side…

  The sudden ring of his cell phone jarred Jake out of his thoughts. The sound seemed so out of place, belonging with the traffic, smog and pressures of L.A. Problem was, so did Jake—a fact he was having a hard time remembering the longer he spent with Sophia in her small hometown.

  He pulled the phone from his pocket and answered with a gruff, “Yeah?”

  “Guess that answers my first question,” the wry voice coming over the phone belonged to Connor McClane, and Jake forced himself to relax.

  As a friend and fellow investigator, Connor would pick up and hound Jake over any problem he was having, and he’d given too much away already. “Hey, Connor. How was the honeymoon?”

  He and Connor had met while working opposite sides of a nasty divorce. After the case was over, they’d met for drinks, shaking their heads at discovering both spouses were cheating on each other and toasting their single status—a toast Connor could no longer make after his recent marriage to Kelsey Wilson.

  From the happiness in his friend’s voice, Jake doubted Connor minded. “They don’t call Hawaii paradise for nothing.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure what you saw from the hotel room was amazing.”

  “Hey, we had to go out a few times!”

  Shifting his focus to work, Jake asked, “Did you get the emails I sent? I’ve completed most of the background checks on the first set of applicants, but there’ve been a few references I haven’t tracked down yet.”

  Connor had been hired by his wife’s family to run background checks on a new investment her uncle, Gordon Wilson, was involved in. The exclusive Scottsdale resort was aimed toward the rich, famous and reclusive. Ensuring their clients’ safety and privacy would be a challenge.

  Between his rush to the altar and his move to Arizona, where Kelsey and her family lived, Connor had his hands full and had asked Jake to help out with the initial applicants, running work and credit histories and verifying references. It was a job he could do anywhere as long as he had a computer and phone—including the Pirelli home.

  “I saw the reports, Jake,” his friend said. “That’s not why I’m calling. Have you had a chance to explain things to Sophia?”

  “I’ve explained, and I’ve apologized.”

  Picking up on his disgruntled tone, Connor laughed. “Not getting you where you want to be, huh?”

  Jake knew where he wanted to be—wrapped in Sophia’s arms, captured by her kiss. But he didn’t deserve to be there. He’d already unknowingly taken advantage when she was hurting and vulnerable. Now that he knew she was pregnant and what the Dunworthys had put her through, he wondered if the best he could do for Sophia was to stay away.

  “I made a mistake, man. I got too close,” he confessed.

  “You think that’s where you screwed up?” Connor asked, half amused, half know-it-all, and 100 percent annoying.

  “Losing perspective’s the worst thing you can do on the job,” Jake shot back.

  “Yeah. Except this isn’t about the job, and hasn’t been since the minute you met Sophia.”

  Jake opened his mouth, but he didn’t know what argument he thought to make when he’d already given that same explanation to Sophia. And yet, despite what he’d told Sophia, the way he’d treated her had been the sam
e as dozens of jobs before. He’d found the information he needed, and he left. Even now, after following her to Clearville, he was still falling back into old habits of digging up information without giving any away.

  He’d hurt her with his refusal to talk about his too-brief time with Josh. If he wanted Sophia to open up—about her reasons for leaving home and her determination to stay away—he would have to do the same.

  Her brothers had been right about one thing, Sophia decided as she propped her elbows on the desk in her parents’ office and covered her face with her hands. She was in the best position to use her mother’s floral-covered address book to invite friends and acquaintances to their parents’ surprise party. But Sam had been dead wrong when he said it would be easy.

  In fact, if Nick had been the one to suggest Sophia make the calls, she might have thought he’d set her up for some kind of retribution for past mistakes. But since neither Sam nor Drew was the vengeful type, she could only assume they’d had no idea how hard this would be on her.

  Sophia hadn’t known it herself until she’d made the first few calls to her parents’ closest friends. She’d struggled through, ridiculously grateful when she’d reached voicemails and could leave the information in a message and avoid all the well-meaning comments that dropped like stones on her already bruised conscience.

  Your parents are so happy to have you home.

  When are you going to move back where you belong?

  You can’t blame your family for worrying about you—especially after…well, you know.

  No, Sophia didn’t blame her parents at all. Everything that happened—all the hurt, all the worry—was her fault, a point driven home again and again as she placed more calls.

  Sophia rubbed at the headache gathering in her forehead like angry clouds before an approaching storm. It wasn’t that she expected her family to completely stop worrying about her. It was only natural for them to be concerned, especially when she was the only one living so far away. But she wanted them to see that she could take care of herself and her baby.

  She wished her friend Christine would call with news on the catering company. When they’d talked a week ago, Christine had been jazzed about the location she’d found, a small restaurant she felt would be perfect for her new business. They’d bounced a few ideas for names off each other, and some of her friend’s excitement had started to rub off on Sophia. It was a good job, and who knows, maybe she’d enjoy it more than she thought she would.

  Tapping the phone, she considered calling, but Christine had promised to phone with news, and Sophia knew getting the financing together and making an offer on the place would take time.

  When the rumbling in her stomach told her she needed to eat, Sophia was more than ready to take a break. She’d never been much of a morning person, but she’d come to enjoy her daily ritual of coffee liberally doused with vanilla creamer. Stepping into the kitchen, she inhaled the fresh brew as if she could breathe the caffeine right into her system.

  “Morning, dear,” her mother said, glancing over her shoulder from the eggs she was cracking into a bowl. “I thought I heard you up and about earlier.”

  “I went into the study to make some calls. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Of course not. It’s your home, too. Well…” Her mother’s smile slipped a little. “You know what I mean.”

  She did, and her mother’s friends would all be quick to clarify if Sophia couldn’t figure it out on her own. “I know, Mom, and thanks.”

  “Coffee’s fresh.” Her mother dropped the eggshells into the bag for compost before washing her hands. “Help yourself.”

  Eyeing the pot with longing, Sophia said, “Um, thanks, but I’m cutting back.”

  Her mother’s eyebrows rose. “Since when?”

  “Well, I guess pretty much since I went to visit Theresa,” she said, managing to tell the truth without telling the whole truth and nothing but the truth. “You know what a health nut she is.”

  “Good for you.”

  Yes, it was, and from now on, she was sticking with what was good for her.

  Opening the refrigerator door, Sophia blinked at the shelves packed with labeled containers. “Green bean casserole. Roasted chicken. Mashed potatoes. Did I miss the memo about Christmas coming early this year?”

  “No memo. It’s part of a care package,” her mother said as Sophia pulled out a pitcher of juice and tried not to wrinkle her nose.

  Apple. Not exactly her favorite, but anything would be second best to what she really wanted.

  The tempting image of Jake holding Annabel flashed through Sophia’s mind. Try as she might, she couldn’t get him out of her thoughts, a craving far stronger than any she’d ever had for caffeine and so much worse for her.

  They might have ridden back from the Walker farm together, but as soon as Sophia mentioned Jake’s expertise with babies, an icy chasm stretched between their seats. She supposed she should be glad he hadn’t dropped her off at the house and just kept driving like he had the last time she talked about babies—namely, the one she was carrying.

  He might have come after her, but what really had changed since St. Louis? She certainly wasn’t any less pregnant, and Jake wasn’t any more willing to accept that.

  The apple juice did little to help her swallow her disappointment. If she and Jake had met at a different time—

  Sophia cut off the thought immediately. The only reason they had met was because she’d blindly fallen for Todd’s charm. But she couldn’t wish their relationship away without wishing her child away, and she refused to do that for anyone.

  Placing the juice back in the fridge, she turned her attention back to her mother. “Kayla Walker had some car trouble yesterday. We gave her a ride home from Sam’s, and she mentioned what a help it was that you’d dropped off some meals for her after Annabel was born.”

  “Oh, I was happy to do it. Anything to get a chance to hold that darling baby.”

  “She is cute, isn’t she?” she said, a little wistfully. She could hardly wait until she had the chance to hold her own baby in her arms.

  “She certainly is. It’s hard to remember when Maddie was that little, especially when it seems she’s growing up so fast. Speaking of my darling granddaughter, can you do me a favor today? I promised I’d take her shopping for a new bed set, and I have a feeling it might take hours for her to decide between ponies and princesses and all her other favorite things.”

  “Wouldn’t surprise me, after the way you described shopping for Halloween costumes.”

  Vanessa rolled her eyes. “Don’t remind me! Honestly, she tried on every costume with every accessory in the shop.”

  Despite the complaint, Vanessa’s smile made it clear she’d enjoyed every moment spent with her granddaughter…time Sophia would be denying her parents and her own child.

  Forcing the worry aside, Sophia asked, “Did you want me to go with you?”

  “Actually, I need to drop off that care package you saw in the fridge, and I don’t want to rush Maddie into making a decision. Would you mind making the delivery?”

  Her mother paused, waiting for Sophia’s answer, and the stillness was enough to make her stomach start to churn. Her mother was always in motion, the constant multitasker, rarely slowing except to make a point. Vanessa would never purposely hurt any of her children, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t give a serious push or two if she thought it necessary. And Vanessa, like the rest of the family, had seen Sophia’s move to Chicago as running away from her problems.

  She’d thought it would be better for everyone if she left, but even that decision had its consequences. Maybe if she’d stayed and stood up for herself, maybe then her father wouldn’t have tried to fight so hard for her—a battle that ended up costing him his job as he took on the powerful Learys. And the unspoken comparisons to Nick’s wife, Carol, cut deep. Her oldest brother still looked at her with lingering resentment, placing her in the same “women who desert their famili
es” category.

  Taking a deep breath and mentally preparing for battle, Sophia asked, “Who am I delivering to?”

  “It’s for Hope Daniels.”

  “I saw the shop was closed, but I thought she was off on one of her treasure hunts…is she okay?”

  “She stepped wrong off a ladder and broke her ankle, but she’s fine. She’s vowed to get the shop back open even if it means hopping around on one foot.” Vanessa turned back to the glass bowl waiting on the counter and measured out a cup of brown sugar as if the matter was decided.

  “That does sound like Hope.” She’d long admired the other woman and had once seen her as a mentor for her own dreams. Hope had given Sophia her first real job and taught her all about running a small retail shop. Sophia thumbed the silver band she wore, the ring Hope had insisted she purchase with her first paycheck. Hope had trusted Sophia—and Sophia had betrayed that trust.

  “You know she’d love to see you,” Vanessa said gently before she handed Sophia a loaf a bread and a knife. “Cut the crusts from a dozen pieces, please.”

  Hope had always been far more forgiving than Sophia felt she deserved. “Um, I still don’t have my car back from Sam’s, though.” As excuses went, that one was more than lame, and her mother waved it away.

  “You and Jake can take his rental car.”

  “Right,” Sophia sighed and turned her attention to trimming the bread, saving the crusts for the croutons her mother would make later. “Where is Jake, anyway?”

  Vanessa pulled a few bottles from the lazy Susan in an overhead cupboard. “He was out back making some phone calls, but then your dad roped him into helping him fix the grass trimmer.”

  “Did Jake say he knew anything about fixing mowers?”

  “I don’t think that matters,” Vanessa laughed. “I’m sure your father’s more interested in male bonding time than he is in getting that old thing running again.”