“You are absolutely priceless, Tinkerbelle. You know, it’s not a good idea to tell a guy who’s been celibate as long as I have that you’re ripe for the picking. That kind of information could make a man forget you used to be family.”
“Sorry.” She gasped, and her eyes widened.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” She rubbed her belly. “I think our little gymnast might be training for the 2030 Olympic Midnight Trampoline event.”
“There’s no such thing.” He smiled.
“Tell her that.”
“Him. Do you mind if I feel?” He laid his hand on her abdomen. “Show me where.”
Her light blue eyes stared into his. “I doubt if you’ll be able to feel her. her kicks are still just a flutter.” She held his wrist and slid his palm under her nightshirt to a warm spot beneath the elastic on her silky bikini panties. “There.”
It could be his imagination, but he’d swear he could feel a series of tiny taps every few seconds under his palm. “I think I feel him.”
As a med student and intern, he’d treated and examined dozens of pregnant women, but never had he felt the miraculous wonder and awe he experienced feeling his own child move. Unfortunately, touching Casey’s smooth bare stomach made him yearn to slide his hand even lower. Inasmuch as he missed Brianna and mourned their failed marriage, his southern half had apparently had enough grieving.
After several moments of watching Casey’s eyes mirror his desire, he pulled his hand away and bent over her tummy, murmuring, “Hey, little one, go to sleep. Your mama needs her rest.”
Casey chuckled softly and mussed his hair. “You think that’s gonna stop her?”
“Of course, it will. I’m his father.” He sat up, bracing his arms on the mattress next to her pillow. “If not, I’ll bribe him with a pony.”
He smiled down at her. If only her lips didn’t look so damn luscious. Why did she have to tell him how easy she’d be to seduce?
Damn. He had to get out of here before he did something really stupid.
Brushing a brotherly kiss over her forehead, he inhaled one last sniff of her fruity scent. “Night, Tinkerbelle. Sleep well.”
“G‘night.”
He stood to leave and snapped his fingers, remembering dinner with his parents. “By the way, I’m supposed to take my dad and mom out for Father’s Day tomorrow.” He glanced at his watch. “Actually, more like today. I haven’t told them about my divorce yet.”
That made her sit up. “Why the heck not?”
“I guess because I’m a coward.” He shrugged. “And I don’t want to see the disappointment in their eyes. I’d appreciate it if you’d come along for moral support.”
She gnawed on her lower lip for a second. “I dunno.”
“Pleeease.”
“Are you sure? I don’t think your mother likes me very much.”
“Why would you say that? The two of you barely know each other.” Between his wedding and holidays, his mom and Casey had only seen each other on five or six occasions—in a large group of people.
“When she came for dinner on New Years and Brianna confessed that I’d cooked most of the meal, did you notice what your mother ate?”
“No.” He shook his head. “Not really.”
“Zilch.” Casey made the shape of a zero with her fingers. “Your mom turned her nose up at everything except the cake she brought. She didn’t say more than two words to me.”
“She can be kind of competitive. I think one of the reasons Brianna got along so well with her is because she was no threat to my mother’s role as the perfect homemaker.”
“So what’re you saying? She was jealous that my sister asked me to cook dinner instead of her?”
“Possibly.” He shrugged, forcing his gaze away from Casey’s bare legs while she scooted up on the bed and shoved her feet under the covers.
Now that he thought about it, his mother had seemed a little upset on Christmas Day when Brianna had shown everyone the bird’s nest Casey had given them. “I think maybe she’s a little uncomfortable with the whole surrogacy thing.”
Which, in truth, was all the more reason for his mother to be nice to the woman who was generously giving her the grandchild she so desperately wanted.
Apparently, he’d done the right thing when he’d called his parents that morning and suggested meeting at the restaurant. He’d been hesitant to expose Casey to the James Lambert memorial shrine that doubled as his parents’ home, just yet. If his mother really did have an issue with Casey, it was better if they saw each other on neutral ground.
“Don’t worry.” He tucked the covers around her. “When my mom finds out about the divorce, she’ll realize it’s not in her best interest to alienate the woman who’ll control how often she sees her grandchild.”
His mother might have favored his brother, and she could be petty and critical at times, but there was one thing Judy Lambert wasn’t—and that was stupid.
~*~
The next afternoon, Casey squirmed in the upholstered armchair at the quaint Riverview Inn which overlooked the Delaware on the outskirts of Redemption. Her insides quivered like gelatinous, ice-cold chicken stock at the prospect of having dinner with Gerald and Judy Lambert.
“Shall I ask the waiter to bring you some cocktails while you wait for the rest of your party,”—the toadying maitre d’ paused a second as though the name he’d just checked off on the reservation list had escaped him—“Dr. Lambert?”
“That’d be great.”
It figured. On the rare occasion she could use a stiff drink to calm her nerves, she couldn’t even have one.
“Mrs. Lambert?” The man arched his snowy eyebrows. “What would you like?”
Her cheeks flamed at the man’s presumption. Of course, why wouldn’t a person assume she was David’s wife after getting a gander of her pregnant belly?
David gave her knee a reassuring squeeze beneath the table. “Don’t sweat it, Tinkerbelle. She’ll have a Virgin Mary, and I’d like a Maker’s Mark Gold on the rocks.”
He was a doggoned mind reader. “Thank you,” she said, smoothing the linen napkin over her raspberry pink dress as the waiter left. “How’d you know what I wanted?”
“You always order a bloody Mary before dinner. And at parties you prefer a fuzzy navel, but you’ll settle for beer or wine if there’s no peach schnapps.”
That he’d noticed what she drank, let alone remembered it, made her heart flip-flop in her chest. She breathed in the heady scent of the fresh floral centerpiece and glanced up at the rustic exposed beams in the ceiling.
“This is beautiful.” She swept her hand toward the tables set with crisp white tablecloths and sparkling crystal. “I’m sure your parents will be touched by you bringing them someplace so elegant.”
“I don’t know where they are.” He pulled his French cuff back and glanced at his watch. “I told them two o’clock. They’re usually early for everything.”
“They probably ran into some holiday traffic. I’m actually sort of glad they’re late. I wanted to give this to you this morning, but I forgot.” She pulled the Father’s Day card she’d made for him from her purse and handed it to him. “I know Brianna would’ve gotten you one if—”
“Thank you.” His voice wavered and the muscles in his throat flexed above his starched white collar while he opened the envelope containing the homemade card.
She’d scanned the baby’s sonogram picture into Paint Shop on the computer and doctored the printout, adding a colorful caption that read Happy Father’s Day to the Best Daddy in the World—Love Junior.
David shook his head and laughed when he saw the miniscule penis she’d superimposed on their child’s picture. “I’m offended you’d think my son wouldn’t be better endowed.”
“Well, I didn’t want to make any bold assumptions.” Her breath caught at the flash of his brilliant teeth. He was so incredibly handsome when he smiled. She truly hoped their baby took aft
er him.
“You do realize, if a miracle happens and we have a girl, I’m gonna have to throw this out. Otherwise, our daughter will grow up with a complex, thinking we wanted a boy inste—”
He catapulted out of his seat and waved to his parents standing in the archway to the dining room. Tucking the card into the interior pocket of his dark suit jacket, he stepped out from behind the table to greet them.
The Lamberts followed the maitre d’ toward them, and Judy stopped short, spotting Casey at the table for four.
“Didn’t I tell you something was wrong?” she muttered to Gerald, her husband, and slid into the chair across from her son’s seat.
David leaned over and kissed the top of his mother’s auburn head before hugging his slightly shorter, but quite distinguished looking dad. “Happy Father’s Day, Pop.”
“Thanks.” Gerald patted his back and then winked at Casey. “It’s nice to see you again.”
She pasted a cordial smile on her face. “It’s a pleasure to see you both again, too.”
Liar. She’d rather be in bed with a severe case of the flu. Except David had pleaded with her to come, and she couldn’t bear to let him down. As usual, her inability to say no had simply gotten her in deeper.
“Where’s Brianna?” Gerald asked, not beating around the bush.
David sank back into his seat next to Casey. “Minneapolis.”
His mother’s arctic blue eyes narrowed to two suspicious slits. “Doing business on a holiday, again? The two times I spoke to her in the past month, she seemed upset. I’m worried about her.”
“Why don’t you order something to drink before we get into that,” David suggested when the waiter served the bourbon and Casey’s tomato juice cocktail he’d ordered.
Casey gulped the spicy mixture, avoiding Judy’s glare.
When the waiter left with the additional drink order, David straightened his silverware and cleared his throat. “Uhh, I know I shouldn’t have waited until today to tell you this, but I knew how much it would upset you, and I’ve been hoping she’d change her mind.”
The corner of his mouth curved in an uncertain smile as he glanced over at Casey. She squeezed his hand under the table to encourage him.
“Now, I don’t have any choice,” he continued in a hoarse whisper. “You see, uhhh—Brianna and I are divorced.”
“What!” his mother squawked. When a few of the other diners’ heads turned toward them, she lowered her voice. “Are you saying it’s already an accomplished fact?”
His downcast head nodded. “She filed in Nevada. It was final last week.”
“Damn it, David.” Gerald raked his fingers through his thinning silver hair. “You should’ve told us you were having marital problems.”
Judy turned her glittering gaze on Casey. “I knew something like this would happen when you got involved in their relationship.”
David’s mouth dropped open. “What are you insinuating, Mom? Casey had nothing to do with my marriage failing.”
“Then what’s she doing here?”
“I brought her with me today because she’s going to be your grandchild’s mother, and I thought you and Dad should get to know her better.”
“I see.” Judy stared at him. “So then what happened between you and your wife?”
While they sipped the screwdrivers the waiter delivered, David told them how Brianna had suddenly walked out on him without warning, and how Casey would be staying with him until after the baby was born. With each accusing glance from his mother, Casey felt more nauseated. Finally, she shoved back her chair. “If you’ll all excuse me, I think I’m gonna be sick.”
David and Gerald both rose when she leapt up, dashed out through the restaurant’s lobby to the ladies room, and threw up the tomato juice she’d drunk. After her stomach ceased its revolt, she staggered out of the stall and splashed cool water on her face at the pedestal sink.
The door swung open, and Judy’s resentful scowl appeared behind her in the large gilt-framed mirror. “David asked me to check on you.”
“I’m fine, now, thanks.”
“I’d feel sick, too, if I’d broken up my sister’s marriage.”
Patting her cheeks dry with a hand towel, Casey turned and confronted her. “Why do you insist I had anything to do with their divorce?”
“Oh, come, on.” Judy planted her hands on her hips. “Don’t play coy with me. I could see you had the hots for my son the day he married your sister. You went out of your way to drive a wedge between them, cooking for him all the time and offering to have his baby.”
Casey gasped at the allegation. “You’ve got it all wrong, Mrs. Lambert. Anything I’ve done for David and Brianna was to help her.”
“Do you really think I’m that blind? I’ve seen the way you and he tease each other. It’s like....like some kind of sick verbal foreplay!”
“No-o.” Casey shook her head vehemently, hating that there might be a grain of truth in his mother’s accusations.
“It’s no wonder Brianna left.”
“David and I are just friends. Honest.”
“Oh, really? So if you’re not after my son, why are you moving into his home now that Brianna’s gone?”
On hearing the question posed that way, suddenly her motives didn’t seem quite as pure as they had a few days ago. Especially now that she’d talked to her sister and discovered that her living with David hadn’t roused Brianna’s competitive nature whatsoever.
Not surprising, considering Casey was no competition for her drop-dead gorgeous twin.
She straightened to her full five-feet, two inches. “I-I’m staying there this summer because I lost my apartment and that’s what David and Brianna planned from the beginning. They thought it would be quieter for me to nap there in the afternoons rather than next door to the construction racket at the school. And my sister had asked me to draw a mural in the nursery for David to paint. I’ve been trying to talk Brianna into coming home.”
The cynical curl to Judy’s mouth said she wasn’t buying any of it. “Then you deny being in love with my son?”
“Yes! I’d never try to come between him and my sister.” Casey turned her face to the wall and stared at the satin moiré paper. Regardless of how often she’d pictured him naked in the last week.
“Well, I’m glad to hear it.” Judy sniffed and smoothed her collar-length russet hair in the mirror. “Whether it’s the truth or not remains to be seen.”
In other words, the shrew was just waiting to slap a big fat scarlet ‘A’ on Casey’s chest should she ever think about getting involved with David in the future.
Chapter 6
He took it all back. Maybe his mother lacked a little gray matter after all. Either that, or insanity was dog paddling in his gene pool.
Those were the only two reasons he could fathom for why his mom would fire so much hostility toward someone in a position to dictate how much time she spent with her grandchild. He never should’ve insisted Casey join them for dinner.
When they reached the restaurant’s parking lot after a stressful meal Casey only picked at, he opened the car door for her and handed her the keys. “Start her up and flip on the air conditioning for yourself. I’ll be right back.”
He jogged toward his parents’ Infinity parked on the opposite side of the lot and flagged them down. He had no idea what his mother had said in the restroom. Judging from the crackling tension during the meal, he’d take bets his mom hadn’t told Casey how pretty she looked or invited her to join her bridge club. Usually, Judy was the epitome of charm and diplomacy. However, in this case, it probably would have been smarter to ask a total stranger to check on Casey.
His dad lowered the window. “Thanks again for dinner. It was great.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. I only wish Casey had, too. I didn’t appreciate the way the two of you treated her today.”
His father’s manners hadn’t been much better than his mother’s. Gerald had spent the entire
meal quizzing David about his volunteer work at the clinic, his guest lecturing at the medical school, and the hospital committees he served on.
“What do you mean? I wasn’t anything but nice to her,” his father defended himself.
“Oh, you mean in those three words you uttered to her?”
Of course, if his father had dared to engage Casey in a friendly conversation, he would’ve undoubtedly paid dearly for it at home.
“I’m sorry.” Gerald sighed. “You’re right. We could’ve been more sociable.”
Judy leaned forward and called across David’s father, “Well, she didn’t make much of an effort to participate in our conversa—”
“Look,” David cut his mother off. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. You were rude to her. I’m a big boy, and if I choose to have Casey live at my house so I can have a relationship with my child, that’s my business.” They could just chalk it up to one more way he’d screwed up in their eyes. “Just remember, I’ll be sharing custody with Casey. So if you hope to see your grandchild at anytime besides holidays, I suggest you try being more civil to my baby’s mother.”
He didn’t hang around for a rebuttal. He spun on his heels and stomped back to his car. After climbing in, he slammed the Camry’s door. Casey hardly flinched and continued staring out the passenger window.
Okay, she was pissed. With good reason. So was he.
He remained silent during the ride home, hoping to give her a little quiet time to nurse her wounds. Twenty minutes later, he flipped on his blinker and spun the convertible into his serpentine driveway, pressing the garage door’s remote while the engine accelerated up the incline.
“I’m sorry, Tinkerbelle,” he finally said as he steered the car into the bay. “The way they acted was uncalled for. What the hell did my mother say to you in the restroom?”
“I really don’t want to talk about it. Forget it. It was nothing.”
She sure didn’t act like it was nothing. “I don’t blame you if you’re ticked off at me. I’ve never seen my mom act like such a bitch before.”
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