Unexpected Complication (Harlequin Super Romance)

by Knupp, Amy

  “A good-looking OB/GYN? I don’t know if I could have a good-looking man down there doing that.”

  “He’s really easy to talk to,” Monica said.

  “Talk? I’d prefer if he just checked and ran.”

  Monica laughed. “Yeah, until you have some mysterious vaginal itching and you’re begging him to give you something for it.”

  “Hey, I’m eating here,” Devin complained. The manly bunch on the deck was looking more and more appealing.

  “You people die or what?” Kyle’s voice boomed at the back door. “The men are hungry. Got something I can take out to appease them?”

  Monica stirred the salsa once more, then picked up the full chip-and-dip serving bowl she’d brought along. “At your service.” She shot her husband a flirty look and followed him outside, leaving Devin and Carey by themselves.

  “So. Are you sure it’s best to let Jerod off the hook?” That was the best he could do to convince her to change her mind. Weak, he knew.

  “His heart wasn’t in the offer, Devin. I don’t want this baby ever to feel like just an obligation, and that’s exactly what she’d be to Jerod.”

  “Makes sense to me.”

  She stopped in the middle of taking a tray of chicken wings out of the oven and stared at him. “It does?”

  “Yep. A monthly check from him would be nice, but that makes everything a little harder.”

  “Such as?”

  “Custody. Visitation. Rights. All that stuff.”

  Carey ignored the food in the oven. “I don’t think he wants any of those.” He saw fear in her face. “Do you? Do you think he’d try to get the baby?”

  He grabbed the hot pad from her and took the pan out. Closing the oven, he said, “I don’t know, Carey. I wouldn’t think so, but you should protect yourself from him.”

  “Great.”

  “What?”

  “You just opened up a whole new batch of worries for me to lose sleep over.”

  “Happy to help.” He’d missed out on many hours of sleep himself over the past week, thinking about her.

  She stood there chewing on her thumb, lost in thought. “I’ll talk to Kyle and see what he knows. He can set me up with a good lawyer.”

  “Good idea,” he said as he transferred the wings to a platter. “I’m afraid to ask…do you have a backup plan for all the baby expenses?”

  “I’ll…figure it out. I’ll need to work more. I hope I can find some new sources for work around here. I won’t be able to travel much.”

  Devin hesitated, watching her. “This won’t save you financially, but I do have something to run by you.”

  Carey gave him her full attention. “What’s up?”

  “I need someone to help me with all my marketing materials for CMT. A few photos and some desktop publishing. I thought you’d be perfect.” CMT Computer Security was his baby. He hoped she knew he didn’t trust just anyone with it.

  “If the price is right, of course I’m up for it,” she said loftily.

  He chuckled. “I’ll pay you fairly.”

  “You’ve got yourself a deal.” Carey offered her hand.

  He took it, shook on the agreement, then released it.

  “Hey!” came a gravelly voice through the kitchen window. “Service! What’s an old man gotta do for a drink around here?”

  Devin picked up the platter of chicken and headed around the bar. “Come to the office on Monday and we can talk details.”

  Carey picked up her camera from the counter and slung it around her neck, then grabbed her makeshift tray of drinks and followed him out on the deck.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “YOU GOT the prettiest waitresses this side of the Atlantic,” Gus hollered as they made their way out onto the deck. “You don’t hold a candle to ’em, Devin, my boy.”

  Gus looked Carey up and down as she approached, and Devin shook his head, grinning. What a lot of love-starved widowers.

  Gus was right though. Monica was impeccably dressed as usual. And Carey…she wore an orange-flowered sundress with skimpy straps and a snug fit. Any man in his right mind would agree she looked spectacular.

  Carey nudged Gus as she placed a glass in front of him. “One screwdriver, just how you like it, easy on the OJ.” She moved around the oval table, placing glasses in front of Albert, whose crispy, tanned skin looked as though he’d spent every day of his eighty-odd years baking in the sun, and Jones, the quietest of them, whose first name was still a mystery to Devin. She circled to Gramps. “And a virgin screwdriver for the birthday boy.”

  Gramps grumbled good-naturedly. “Damn medications. I believe you mean OJ straight up, Miss Carey.”

  “And here I thought men liked virgins,” she said to a round of approving hoots as she placed the single beer in front of Kyle, who held Monica tucked against his side.

  Carey walked back around the table with her camera, “Dev, lean down by your grandpa.”

  When he did, she shot several pictures of the two, smiling. She kept clicking away, even after they’d stopped posing.

  Devin sat in the deck chair to his grandpa’s left, thankful the pain in his ribs had eased up in the last week. “You can’t give the bartender a hard time, Gramps. She’s the only one we’ve got.”

  “And the only one without a drink,” Gramps said. “Someone get that girl a refreshment.”

  Devin held his breath, wondering if Carey would confess to her condition.

  “Don’t you worry about me. You didn’t see what I downed in the kitchen,” Carey said, sitting on the bench to the old man’s right.

  The men were in rare form tonight, cracking more one-liners than a room full of politicians up for reelection.

  “How’s that company of yours coming along?” Gramps asked Devin after a few minutes had passed.

  Devin took a swig of beer. “Not bad. Starting slower than I’d hoped, but I’ll get there.”

  “You take your time and do it right, you’ll be okay.”

  Devin nodded, knowing he was right, but feeling unsettled and impatient anyway. “I just need a couple of big contracts to reassure me right now.”

  “I’ve still got some contacts. Why don’t I call them up, put in a good word for you?”

  Gramps had been successful in business himself, and Devin valued all the input he offered. He’d offered plenty along the way, as Devin took classes and planned for his company. Gramps had been his one-man cheering squad from the moment Devin had gotten serious about doing something practical with his interest in computers. However, the one thing Devin didn’t want was for his business to ride on the coattails of Gramps’s accomplishments. He wanted to build his own success. Needed to. Gramps’s charity wouldn’t prove a thing.

  “I’d rather not do it based on your merit,” Devin said. “But thanks for the offer.”

  Gramps didn’t answer, just tapped his gnarled fingers on the table.

  “I’ve got my first year’s budget set,” Devin told him, noticing Carey leaned in to listen to their conversation instead of continuing the repartee with the others. “My goal is to show a profit by month thirteen.”

  Gramps narrowed his eyes. “You think that’s going to be feasible?”

  “It’ll be tough, but the way I have it on paper, it could happen. I’ll make it happen.”

  “Slow down. Take your time. They’re dead, son. You can’t prove a thing to your parents.”

  “Maybe I just need to prove it to myself,” Devin said half-heartedly.

  The need to show the world his parents had been wrong about him drove him like a crazed man. He needed to prove that their antisocial, apathetic son who spent his time “puttering” with computers had it in him to build something just as important as their TV station.

  Devin could tell by Gramps’s raised eyebrows he didn’t buy it for a second. So be it. Actually, there was more than just himself and his parents in the equation. There was Gramps, too.

  Devin thought of Gramps as a father figure, th
e man who’d taught him anything good he knew. It was because of the old man’s faith in him that Devin had the chance to pursue the company of his dreams in the first place. It humbled Devin how much his grandpa had already done for him, most notably the large donation of capital for the start-up. He couldn’t wait for the day when he could show Gramps he’d done it, that he’d taken the old man’s investment and his belief in him and made it into a company he hoped would sustain him for the rest of his life.

  While Devin’s parents had had no confidence in him, Gramps had. And for that leap of faith, Devin had gone so far as to name the company CMT after him, Carl Martin Thaylor.

  “I worry about you, Devin.”

  “Don’t. I’m fine.”

  Gramps steepled his fingers in front of him. “Your whole life is about this company of yours. Believe me, I learned the hard way there are more important things than work.”

  “I’ve waited far too long for this chance. I’m not going to blow it.”

  “I’m saying you shouldn’t blow off everything else.” Gramps removed his glasses and busied himself cleaning the lenses with a corner of his shirt. “It’s been over a month since I last saw you.”

  So that’s what was bugging the birthday boy. Devin swigged down some beer. Damn. He hadn’t expected a guilt trip from his grandpa. It was true, he hadn’t taken the old man out to dinner for a while. Until recently, he’d made a point of doing that on a weekly basis. But he’d thought Gramps understood. His grandpa was the only one intimately familiar with the reason for Devin’s tunnel vision. No one else could begin to conceive of how Devin’s parents’ death five years ago—or rather, the message they’d sent with their will—had affected him.

  Devin hid his frustration, still determined to make this a special night. “Name a night next week.”

  His grandpa smiled. “I’m easy, son. Whatever night suits you.”

  “Wednesday then.”

  Gramps nodded, then turned his attention to the back door of the house. Devin followed his line of sight, instantly enraged.

  “Happy birthday, Grandpa.” Jerod’s grating voice momentarily caused a lull in the noisy celebration.

  The old guys filled the lapse in conversation pretty quickly, but Devin barely noticed. His cousin walked out onto the deck, completely overdressed in suit pants, a dress shirt and an ugly tie.

  “What the hell is he doing here?” Devin asked under his breath.

  “You said invite who I want. I invited all my grandkids.”

  Any of the other grandkids would’ve been fine. Hell, Devin would love to see Landon or even Jerod’s sisters. But welcoming Jerod into his home was a hell of a lot to ask.

  Devin glanced at Carey, who shrugged and gave a what-the-hell look, but he could tell she was just as thrown off to see her ex.

  “Is there a problem?” Gramps asked him. “I hoped you could ignore your differences for a couple of hours on my birthday. He’s family, something I don’t have much of left.”

  The old man rose slowly, checked to make sure his oxygen tank fanny pack was attached to him, and sauntered toward the new arrival.

  Devin followed, waiting behind Gramps as he hugged Jerod. After a brief exchange, Gramps returned to his chair again, inviting Jerod to join the group.

  “Didn’t realize you were coming,” Devin said to him, trying to hide his animosity from the other guests.

  “Wouldn’t miss it.” Jerod smiled as if he had no clue he wasn’t welcome.

  He’d always acted that way, as if he couldn’t figure out why Devin hated him.

  “You can stay as long as you leave Carey alone.” He said it too quietly for anyone else to hear.

  Jerod shot a passing glance his way, then walked off, leaving Devin with the urge to beat the hell out of him.

  Heading back toward the table, Devin adopted a nonchalance he didn’t feel. He met Carey’s eyes and it was obvious she wasn’t comfortable.

  “Sorry,” he mouthed to her as he sat down.

  She nodded briefly and tried to smile.

  Monica hopped up and took Jerod’s drink order, then disappeared into the kitchen.

  Jerod stared at Carey, at the opposite end of the table from him, but she didn’t glance at him once. Good for her. If he harassed her at all, he’d answer to Devin.

  As the evening wore on, Devin had never been so grateful for the banter and loud laughter around the table. The constant noise made it almost possible to forget his cousin was present. Carey was clearly aware of him, though, as she seemed to go out of her way to laugh loudly and frequently.

  Finally, Carey whispered she was going to bring out the cake. She slipped inside unnoticed, just as Jones told a dirty joke.

  Carey closed the door behind her and breathed out a long sigh. She prayed Jerod didn’t try to talk to her. They had nothing to talk about.

  She took the cake from the fridge and moved it to the bar, then searched through the plastic grocery bag for candles and matches. She finally dug out a wax number eight and a number five and plunked them into the frosting.

  When the door opened, she assumed it was Monica coming inside to help. It wasn’t.

  Jerod glided in with a concerned expression. He should be concerned—that Devin would follow him.

  “I have to take the cake outside,” Carey said before he could speak.

  “Carey, please. Can you give me two minutes?”

  She waited for him to get it over with.

  “I’m still a little blown away by your news the other night.”

  She nodded impatiently.

  “Have you been to a doctor?”

  “Not yet. But there’s no mistake, Jerod. I tested three times.”

  He stuck a hand into the pocket of his suit pants as he watched her. “I thought I’d give you another chance to accept some cash.”

  He looked so pleased with himself, smug.

  “No thanks, Jerod.”

  “If you turn it down now, don’t come begging for help later.”

  “I don’t intend to.” She bit down on her irritation. “I’d rather we didn’t get tangled up in finances and obligations. Ever.”

  He shrugged dismissively. “You’re a stubborn woman, Carey.”

  “Yes.” She nodded her head. “I am.”

  His head bobbed up and down slowly several times, as he shrewdly assessed her. “Never let it be said that I didn’t try to help.”

  “You’ve done your duty. Now I have to take the cake out.”

  She felt strangely apathetic toward him as she grabbed the matches and slid her arms under the box.

  She forced a smile on her face and rejoined the party, leaving Jerod to exult by himself.

  As she took her seat next to Devin again, he asked, “Is Jerod inside?”

  “He came in to see if I’d changed my mind about child support.”

  “Did you?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think you’re a hardheaded woman.”

  “You’re right. He made sure I was aware he’d tried to help. It’s as if he’s trying to protect himself.”

  “Dammit. I didn’t see him sneak inside or I would’ve interrupted.”

  “It’s okay, Dev. I can handle him.”

  He took the book of matches from her and lit both the candles. Then the group sang a painful version of “Happy Birthday.” Gramps managed to blow both candles out without help, although it was obvious to Carey it was a struggle. She hoped Devin didn’t notice. He worried about his grandpa too much already.

  “Where’d Jerod go?” Gramps asked, surveying the group.

  “I’m sure he’ll be out soon enough,” Devin said.

  Carey couldn’t understand what he muttered under his breath, but she could tell it wasn’t friendly. She had to admit his protectiveness toward her where Jerod was concerned touched her—more than a little.

  She seemed to be the only one who noticed when, several minutes later, Devin sneaked back inside.

  CHA
PTER SEVEN

  DEVIN CLOSED the door to the noisy bunch on the deck and listened for Jerod. He heard something in the front living room and strode in that direction.

  “What the hell were you thinking showing up here tonight?” Devin said when he spotted Jerod checking out his DVD collection.

  “Thought I’d wish the old man a happy birthday.”

  “You’re making Carey uncomfortable.”

  “I didn’t know she’d be here, but even if I had, my relationship with her is none of your business.”

  “You screw around with one of my best friends and damn right it’s my business.”

  “Get off your high horse, man. All I did was date her.”

  “And knock her up.”

  Jerod narrowed his eyes. “She told you?”

  “Hell, yes, she told me.”

  “She had an equal part in that, you know.”

  “Okay.” Devin nodded once. “I’ll give you that. She had a serious lapse in judgment the whole time she went out with you.” He stalked closer.

  Jerod rammed his fingers through his thick hair. “Look, I offered to help. She doesn’t want my money. She should get rid of it, but she won’t. She’s made her decision, man.”

  And he’d washed his hands of the whole problem.

  “She’s much better off without you, but I hate that you get off scot-free.”

  “Why does my involvement with Carey make you so mad? It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

  It was a good goddamn question.

  A smug look appeared on Jerod’s face. “You want her for yourself, don’t you?” He shook his head and grinned as if he were the smartest man since Einstein. “You can’t stand that I slept with her.”

  “Get out of my house. Now!”

  Jerod shrugged and sauntered out the front door just as Devin was on the verge of kicking the crap out of him.

  Devin ran his hand down his face, shaking with fury and wondering what the hell had happened to his common sense. Jerod had baited him and he’d leapt at the bait.

  He leaned on the arm of the overstuffed chair by the front door, unable to face the party in the backyard just yet.

  The bitch of it all was that Jerod was right. Devin couldn’t handle that his cousin had slept with Carey. He did want her for himself. And this goddamn realization that he loved her had come a few weeks too late, because now there was no way in hell he and Carey could be together. Not when Jerod had had her first. Sure as hell not when she was carrying Jerod’s child. It didn’t matter whether he loved her or not. There was no way he could not think about his cousin’s claim on her. No way he could ever step in and raise Jerod’s baby.