Tanner beamed. “I told you.”
It took a certain kind of man to sit on a public park bench and feed a woman soup—especially after the way she’d acted toward him this morning.
She blinked away the shame and decided the best way she could make up for her behavior was to simply move forward and allow him to discuss their situation with her like a rational adult.
She accepted the cardboard container and plastic spoon and took another bite of warm, savory comfort.
As she chewed, she sighed inwardly, content with the way the soup warmed her belly.
Was this pregnancy ideal? No.
Did she like the way Tanner had gone to her father to get what he wanted? Absolutely not.
Although, she had to admit there was something beyond Tanner Redmond’s good looks that appealed to her. It was a certain strength of character that shone from the inside out. That same steadfastness she’d clung to the night of the storm.
As they sat on the bench, she didn’t know if it was the food and the cool, fresh afternoon air or Tanner’s easygoing company that helped her pull herself together, but she had to admit she was beginning to feel better than she had in months.
“Good soup, huh?” he asked. “How are you feeling?”
She nodded noncommittally, waiting to see how it settled in her system.
“An empty stomach can cause a lot of problems that compound on each other,” he said. “Sometimes I get brand-new students who are caught up in the excitement of learning to fly and they get airsick. There’s a fine line. You have to put something in your stomach, but it has to be the right balance of carbs and fat. Too greasy or acidic and it won’t be pretty.”
Jordana winced at the thought. “Stop. You’re going to make me sick. My stomach was just starting to settle down.”
“Fair enough.” They sat in companionable silence for a moment. “What are we going to do?” she finally asked.
“I’d like you to marry me so that we can give our baby a proper family.”
As Tanner’s words sank in, she realized that one of the things that bothered her was that Tanner wanted to marry her. Yet, he didn’t even know her. Not really. Not in the the-man-I-marry-will-know-all-about-me-and-still-love-me-despite-myself sort of way.
But her mind replayed him giving her his handkerchief—it was surprising a man’s man like Tanner would even carry such a thing—and him feeding her soup and being so willing to forget today’s hormonal psycho-woman display.
“So are you proposing to me?” she asked.
“I am. Are you accepting?”
Chapter Four
“Where’s the ring?” Jordana asked. “It’s not a proposal without a ring.”
Tanner couldn’t figure out if this was Jordana’s way of stalling, or if she was being funny. Once he’d gotten some food in her and she’d let down her guard, she’d proven herself to have a pretty good sense of humor, but the woman did have a mind of her own.
He could tell by the look on her face there was at least a grain of seriousness to her question. He guessed he couldn’t blame her. A woman like Jordana was used to the best of the best. He already sensed that the situation was less than what she’d hoped and dreamed.
Tanner’s little sister was a grown woman now, and he remembered how she and her girlfriends used to chatter incessantly about weddings and bridesmaids and all sorts of girl business. He knew from listening to her and her friends that most girls had harbored fantasies of their perfect wedding since they’d been old enough to know what a wedding was.
Sitting here on the park bench, he didn’t even have anything—a ring from a gumball machine or Cracker Jack box, or a pop-top or even a piece of string—that he could use as a makeshift placeholder.
“All right, I’ll tell you what,” he said, looking at her earnestly. “Give me twenty-four hours and I will do this right. But you have to trust me, okay?”
She opened her mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out.
“Just trust me, okay?”
* * *
Just trust me, okay?
Tanner’s words echoed in Jordana’s mind long after he’d dropped her off at home after their impromptu picnic in the park.
How could two simple words strike such fear in her heart?
How? From bad experience, that’s how.
But Tanner Redmond had given her no reason to not trust him. In fact, he’d gone to great lengths to prove himself reliable, if not trustworthy. Jordana reminded herself of this as she stripped off her suit and got into the shower to wash away the day’s strife.
She’d asked him to take her back to the office so she could get her purse and her car, but he insisted on taking her home so she could rest. He said he would arrange for the car and her purse to be delivered.
She contemplated it as she towel-dried her hair, smoothed on lotion and slid into a pair of yoga pants and an oversize T-shirt.
Not only was Tanner reliable, but he was also considerate. For some reason that’s exactly what made her squirm.
She mulled it over some more as she took a box down from her closet and pulled out an old scrapbook that she’d been keeping since she was in middle school. The pink album was a little faded and some dog-eared pages stuck out from the bulging book, but the sight of it gave her a bittersweet thrill.
She’d been planning her wedding since she was twelve years old and this book was the ever-evolving blueprint to that day.
She opened the scrapbook and leafed through the pages, marveling at how her tastes really hadn’t changed very much over the years. Some details—such as her ideal dress—had been updated as new designs caught her eye. She’d simply laid the photo of the most up-to-date dress on top of the older photos. It was fun to see the progression—and a little satisfying to know that for the most part, she’d known herself well enough to stick to her initial visions of her idea.
As she made her way into the kitchen with her wedding scrapbook and set the kettle on to boil water for a cup of decaffeinated tea, it struck her that Tanner fit the mold of her ideal physical type. But she wasn’t so shallow to let that overshadow what was important…what was on the inside.
Trust me. His voice echoed in her head again.
The stakes were so high. He was asking her to give him twenty-four hours to prove to her that they should spend the rest of their lives together. This man whom she’d seen only on four separate occasions—two of which were in the same day, and the vast majority of another they’d been naked and tangled in each other’s arms and conceiving a baby. Based on this history, he wanted her to throw caution to the wind and trust him with her entire future. On the few occasions when she’d leaped before she’d looked, she’d landed with a hard and regrettable thud.
She tucked the scrapbook in the crook of her arm and carried it, the steaming cup of peppermint tea and her trepidations into the living room and sat down on the couch. She started at the beginning and began flipping through the pages.
Her dream wedding…it was preserved right there on the pages of this scrapbook.
It would’ve been a large affair…she’d wanted everyone she knew to join in the celebration of love. Her dream dress was strapless and made of volumes of ivory satin. Actually, the shade was called candlelight. Surprisingly, not virginal white, only because the ivory shade went better with her hair and skin tone. The bridesmaids were in emerald-green because her dream wedding would’ve been in the late fall/early winter. In a church, because she was traditional like that.
If she married Tanner before the baby was showing, it would have to be a May or June wedding…spring or summer. Exactly the opposite of what she wanted.
But wasn’t that just her luck with love?
She’d had three serious boyfriends in
her life and each one had proven himself untrustworthy in some way. Two had cheated on her after she’d refused to sleep with them; and it became clear that the other was more interested in the Fortunes’ fortune than he was in making a future with her.
Each relationship had ended badly and made her more secure in her decision to hold on to her virginity until she was certain she’d found just the perfect man.
A little voice inside her reminded her that somehow—like Arthur effortlessly extracting Excalibur from the stone—Tanner had managed to claim her V-card without the slightest resistance from her. Maybe that was a sign that he was the right man.
Then again, she’d been fooled before.
After her most recent relationship had ended—how long ago was it now…nearly three years ago—she’d even contemplated that being a virgin on her wedding night might not be such a bad choice.
That wasn’t an option anymore. But marrying Tanner was.
He was a lot different than her past mistakes. He had his own money and had been a longtime friend of the Red Rock branch of the Fortune family. And, she had to admit, their one night together had been phenomenal. She’d heard that often a woman’s first time left a lot to be desired. She’d braced herself and even half expected to be left with an Oh, that was it? feeling of emptiness. But Tanner had been a gentle and passionate lover.
He’d definitely left her wanting more. And if it hadn’t been for the circumstances—the fear of the death and destruction they might discover out in the real world once the sun rose—things might have been different.
Plus, the kicker that had caused her guard to go up immediately was that even though they’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms in the old hunting lodge where they’d sought shelter during the storm, she’d awakened alone.
Of course, Tanner hadn’t abandoned her. He was out getting help to pull his Tahoe out of the ditch they’d ended up in when he’d swerved to avoid hitting a piece of debris that had blown into their path.
Her waking up alone the morning after her first time wasn’t his fault. He was doing what needed to be done. And he hadn’t even known she’d been a virgin. Or at least she hadn’t said anything and he hadn’t asked.
Still, it had been a cold, lonely morning as she’d dressed and ventured out to find him helping a team of rescue workers hoist his truck out of the ditch. Never before had it been clearer that she could not entrust her happiness to anyone. Not that she believed she’d never find someone who could make her happy, but that she had to be the one in charge of her own bliss.
Maybe that principle applied here, too?
Tanner was a good man. He wanted to make them a family. Since he was providing the framework of a life together, maybe she needed to be the one who brought the love and happiness.
They had all the ingredients for a good life. So what if their story didn’t unfold like the picture-perfect fantasy she’d created in the pages of her scrapbook? The wedding of her dreams would take at least six months to plan. If she and Tanner were going to do this, she wanted to get married before she was showing because she didn’t want her wedding march to be “Here Comes the Pregnant Bride.”
She closed the scrapbook and took it back into her bedroom. It was time to leave fantasy and ideals behind. Since they were doing things out of order anyway, maybe Tanner could learn to love her in the end?
While Jordana was putting the book back in its box, she heard a knock at her front door.
Her first thought was that it might be Tanner bringing her car and purse back. She left the book on the bed, quickly tugged off the sloppy T-shirt and danced out of the yoga pants. She pulled on jeans, which were already proving to be a little snug in the stomach and rear, and a loose-fitting baby-doll top that would hide her pants’ tight waistband.
Knock knock knock knock—
The pounding was more insistent.
Good grief…just a minute. “Coming,” she called as she threw on a long necklace to complement the outfit, but then took it off again en route to the door, not wanting to look like she’d tried too hard.
Her heart sank when she opened the door and saw not Tanner, but her mother, Virginia Fortune, standing on the porch.
“Oh, Mama. Hi.” Jordana smiled, hoping her mother didn’t notice the masked disappointment in her voice. Not that she wasn’t always happy to see her mother, who had to be one of the sweetest women in the world…especially the way she put up with Jordana’s father. A true Southern belle, Virginia was as genteel as John Michael was gruff. She was probably the only woman in the world who knew how to handle him. Or perhaps put up with him was a better way to put it, because John Michael Fortune took his sweet wife for granted.
“Now, what kind of a greeting is that?” Virginia asked with a good-natured grin. “Were you expecting someone else?”
That was a loaded question.
Jordana laughed and hugged her mother. “Who else might I be expecting?”
Virginia answered her with a quirk of her perfectly groomed eyebrows. “I don’t rightly know.”
She eyed Jordana up and down. “But you sure do look lovely tonight. Oh, and a very handsome man named Tanner Redmond asked if I would deliver your pocketbook to you. Seems you left in such a hurry with him that you left it in your office.”
Virginia held out the purse. So, now Tanner had been talking to her mother?
“Come in,” Jordana said. “When did you see Tanner?”
Virginia walked in and headed straight for the living room. Over her shoulder she said, “I didn’t, but your daddy did. Apparently, Tanner called the office and informed Marta that you’d left your pocketbook behind. Marta gave it to me when I stopped in to see your daddy this afternoon.”
Virginia made herself at home on one end of the couch. Jordana sat on the other end, twisting her body to face her mother.
In addition to being one of the sweetest women in the world, Jordana also thought her mother had to be one of the most beautiful. Her hair, which was once a natural honey-blond, was now an elegant silver. While some Atlanta matriarchs spent a fortune trying to turn back the hands of time with Botox and expensive trips to the colorist, Virginia insisted on remaining natural. She said she’d never color her hair because she’d earned each and every strand of silver on her head. And she wore her crowning glory like a badge of honor.
Virginia leaned toward Jordana as if they were about to conspire. “So, why didn’t you tell me you were seeing Tanner Redmond?”
Oh, boy. Here we go. Jordana scooted to the edge of the couch cushion and sat up straight.
“May I make you a cup of tea, Mama?” she asked, half rising, but she should’ve known her mother wouldn’t fall for the old bait and switch.
“No, thank you, darling. Sit down. But I would love for you to answer my question.”
Jordana took her time settling back into the couch cushions. “Well, I wanted to make sure the relationship was…solid before I told anyone.”
Virginia’s eyes sparkled. “How long have you been seeing each other?”
Jordana resisted the urge to put her hand on her belly. “Well, I guess you could say it all started the night of Wendy and Marcos’s wedding. We danced.”
Virginia gave a ladylike clap of her hands. “And how often does he fly in to see you?”
Jordana swallowed hard. She refused to lie to her mother. “Not nearly often enough.”
Virginia swooned. “Ooh, young love. It’s so beautiful. I am so happy for you, my darling.”
Jordana bit her bottom lip against the urge to hrumph. There was no young love. There was a pregnancy out of wedlock, and the father of her child was insisting on doing the right thing.
Watching her mother beam at her, she was nearly exploding with the knowledge that Tanner was going to propose. It w
as so ridiculous that Virginia didn’t know that Jordana knew that her mother knew—ugh, how long was she going to let this farce go on?
Tell her.
The need to do the right thing nudged at Jordana’s insides. She’d always been able to talk to her mother. And for God’s sake, she was a twenty-nine-year-old woman who was perfectly capable of taking care of herself and her baby…and the father wanted to be involved. This was not such a tragedy.
Tell her now. She can help pave the way to make breaking the news to Dad easier.
“Mama, I’m pregnant.”
The dreamy smile evaporated from Virginia’s face. Her hand fluttered to her neck, and her lips formed a surprised oh.
Jordana braced herself. “Mama, don’t be mad at me, please.”
Virginia blinked a couple of times then seemed to regain her composure. She reached out and took Jordana’s hand with both of hers, and held it tight. The gesture was both reassuring and grounding. It seemed to help Jordana find her emotional balance.
“You are twenty-nine years old, Jordana. You’re hardly a child. Why on earth would I be mad at you?” Virginia pursed her lips, an expression that ran contrary to her words. “Although, I would like to know what your plans are.”
Sure, she might be nearly thirty, but where her parents were concerned, somehow she always slid back into that parent-child relationship and felt twelve years old. But her sweet, reasonable mama was right. She was a grown woman. This was her decision. Her plans…well, hers and Tanner’s.
“Well, Mama, Tanner and I have been talking about getting married.”
Her mother gave a single, expressionless nod. “Is that what you want?”
It could be…
“I don’t know.”
“Do you know he asked your father for your hand in marriage?”
Jordana nodded.
“Your father thinks he is a fine young man. He said he thinks the two of you would be well suited. That’s quite an endorsement coming from John Michael Fortune. He doesn’t lend his stamp of approval to many.”
Fortune's Unexpected Groom (Harlequin Special Edition) Page 5
