“Thank you. I don’t want the pressure of the staff knowing we’re together yet.”
He nodded. “But what about my family? I think most of them already suspect there’s something going on between us.”
Color rushed to her previously pale cheeks. “We weren’t very subtle at your mom’s lunch, were we?”
He laughed and shook his head.
“You can tell Nora, your brothers and sisters, but do you think we should see how things go before we tell Hallie and Hamish? I adore them but...”
“They already adore you, too,” he said, “so maybe that’s a good idea.” He didn’t want to vocalize the possibility that things might not work out between him and Eliza. But Hallie had recently all but lost her mom, so he didn’t want her to get too attached to another woman until they were both sure of the future.
“Okay, then.” Eliza inhaled and then exhaled deeply. “My grandmother really likes you by the way. And I think my father does, too. He was going back to the hotel to write his review right away.”
Lachlan should feel anxious about the prospect of a restaurant reviewer as famed as Raymond Starr commenting on his new venture, but right now with the guy’s daughter in his arms, he couldn’t even care if he trashed it. “I can’t wait to read it,” he said.
Then he retrieved the album from Eliza’s lap and turned to the next photo. “This is the cutest kid,” he said, recalling one of his grief books telling him it was best to refer to the dead loved one still in present tense. “Thank you for showing me these photos of Jack and telling me about him. I hope as time goes by, you’ll tell me more, but if you ever need space to grieve quietly, then you tell me that, as well.”
“Thank you. I promise I will.”
Chapter Sixteen
Eliza stifled a yawn as she smiled at the young couple coming in the entrance of the restaurant. “Good evening, welcome to McKinnel’s,” she said. “Do you have a booking?”
The guy nodded. “Table for two under Justin.”
“Excellent.” As she glanced down at the evening’s booking register, she breathed a sigh of relief. If they didn’t have a booking, she would have had to turn them away and she always felt so terrible when that happened. Whether it was due to the social media efforts she and Sophie had put out to broadcast the new restaurant or her dad’s raving review in the New York Times a week ago, business had been booming. They’d had a full house every night since opening and the lunch service was always busy, too.
Eliza couldn’t be happier with this result, but it was starting to take its toll on her energy levels. Although if she were honest, she couldn’t entirely blame the restaurant for her fatigue. Since she and Lachlan had decided to give a relationship a go, they’d been stealing as much time together as they could outside working hours, as well. This was hard due to Hallie's and Hamish’s needs—not that she begrudged his children his attention at all—so he’d often sneak over to her house in the middle of the night when they were finally asleep.
And they didn’t always have sex. Sometimes they just lay together in bed and talked. Other times they’d watch a movie. They made plans for more cooking lessons once things were less crazy at the restaurant and Eliza couldn’t wait, but at the moment they were both just struggling to keep their heads above water.
She looked back up from the register and spoke to the couple. “You’ve got my favorite table right near the window. The view outside is magical at night. Come this way.”
As she led them through the restaurant, she had to curb another yawn. If there was time, she’d take a break and get a coffee but the moment she settled this couple, the door opened and another group arrived to be seated. With a sigh, she told the couple their waitress for the evening would be with them in a moment and then made sure her smile was still firmly in place and hurried back to do it all over again.
“Eliza?” Troy—one of the younger waiters—nabbed her the moment she’d settled the group. “Can you come and talk to a woman over here? She wants to know why almost everything on the menu has whiskey in it.”
Annoyance flared within her and she felt the beginnings of a headache prickling her scalp. “Did you tell her this is a whiskey distillery?”
“I tried, but she still doesn’t seem to get it. She says she doesn’t like whiskey.”
Oh, boy. Telling herself to stay calm—she’d dealt with hundreds of awkward customers in her life—she told Troy to get back to serving his other tables and she’d deal with it.
“Hi there,” she said to the lady, pasting a smile onto her face that was so big it hurt. “Would you like me to run through the menu with you?”
“I can read it myself, thank you. I came here because everyone’s been talking about the quality of the food but it all reads like boring fare with a dash of whiskey to try to make it original.”
Boring? Usually she prided herself on being a fairly patient and tolerant person, but hearing this woman insult Lachlan’s talent had her harboring homicidal thoughts. “I can assure you that all the chef’s dishes are very original,” she said, her tone saccharine, “and flavorsome. If whiskey isn’t your thing, however, we do have a lovely salmon dish and a chicken pasta that don’t have—”
The woman screwed up her nose as she interrupted, “I don’t want salmon or chicken. Let me speak to the chef!”
Not wanting to cause a scene and guessing that once Lachlan opened his mouth to speak, he’d have this difficult customer eating out of the palm of his hand, Eliza said, “I’ll go see if he’s available for you,” and retreated before she said something she regretted.
As she stepped into the kitchen, the aromas of the various dishes hit her like a food truck. Although these smells usually made her mouth water, today she fought a wave of nausea. Trying to ignore it, she called across the kitchen, “Lachlan, do you have a moment?”
He looked up, smiled, said a few words to one of the kitchen hands, who took over his place at the commercial-sized stove and then crossed over to her. “What’s up?” Before she could reply, he frowned and touched his hand to her elbow. “Are you okay? You’re not looking so great.”
“Jeez, thanks.” She shook his hand off, still not wanting the staff to suspect anything between them. “I’m just tired, but never mind about me. Can you come and talk to a lady out here?” She explained the problem with the whiskey.
He chuckled. “It’d be my pleasure. Lead the way.”
Eliza did as he asked and then happily left to go and chat to more amenable patrons. Lachlan defused the situation, wrote down the table’s order himself and then returned to the kitchen. When the meals started to be served, things got hectic and Eliza ran back and forth to the kitchen, trying to help the waitstaff get everything delivered before it got cold.
“Thank you. That smells divine.” A gentleman smiled up at her as she put a steaming bowl of whiskey-and-bacon chili in front of him. Usually she’d agree, but as she opened her mouth to reply, another wave of nausea rocked her and she shut it quickly as bile shot up her throat.
Covering her mouth, she turned and fled toward the restrooms, horror washing over her at the realization she’d almost vomited over a customer. Again. Locking the cubicle door behind her, she collapsed onto her knees and hurled into the toilet bowl.
No. This cannot be happening.
The door of the restroom opened. She stilled, willing this episode to be over.
“Eliza?” came the voice of one of the waitresses. “Are you okay? Lachlan saw you rush off and told me to come check on you.”
Oh, Lord. Somehow she managed to speak. “I’ll be fine. Think I must have eaten something that didn’t agree with me.”
The waitress chuckled. “Hopefully not from this kitchen.”
Eliza could not laugh. There was nothing funny about this.
“Okay, then,” said the girl after a long pause. “Do you need a
nything?”
“No. Just go back to work,” Eliza managed. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
She waited until she heard the door click shut again and then she forced herself off her knees. She wiped her mouth with toilet paper, flushed it and then went out to check her reflection in the mirror. It wasn’t pretty but she pinched her cheeks to add a little color and told herself to get back out there and worry about this later.
Yet, as she opened the door and stepped back into the hallway that led into the restaurant, she almost slammed into Lachlan’s chest.
“I’m going to ask you again,” he said as he put his arms out to steady her. “Are you not feeling well?”
She wanted to lie, to keep on working, but she didn’t want to make another scene. “I’ve felt better.”
“I’m taking you home,” he said. “I’ll just get my keys.”
“No!” She shook her head furiously. “You can’t leave now.” It was the assistant chef’s night off. “I’ll be okay,” she managed. “I probably just need to sleep it off.”
In the end, Lachlan reluctantly agreed to let her go on her own as long as she took his truck and promised to call him the moment she got home.
“I will.” Without saying goodbye to anyone else, she grabbed her purse and headed out into the night. As she walked toward his vehicle, her breaths came in rapid jolts and she told herself to chill before she gave herself a heart attack.
This was probably a false alarm anyway. Maybe she really was just sick. She tried to remember the last time she’d had her period but life had been so busy lately she’d lost track. Was it just after she arrived in Jewell Rock? That was well over a month ago now, which would make her late but...
No! She and Lachlan had used condoms every single time they’d made love. Weren’t condoms 99 percent effective or something? Probably tomorrow morning, she’d wake up and discover her tiredness and nausea was a new premenstrual symptom.
Clinging to this possibility, she climbed into the truck and started toward her apartment with a quick detour to the drugstore just to be sure. As much as the idea of being pregnant terrified her, she wouldn’t be able to sleep if she didn’t know for sure.
With shaking hands and hoping nobody there recognized her, she grabbed a pregnancy-testing kit and took it to the counter. Less than ten minutes later, she was in her apartment, staring at the little white stick on her counter.
The word pregnant glared up at her.
This felt like déjà vu; the last time she’d been in this situation, she’d been over the moon, but her world had changed since then. She didn’t want another baby. She’d only just begun to consider the idea of becoming a stepmom. So much for taking things slow with Lachlan. The fears she’d slowly been starting to conquer these last few weeks reared up inside her once again.
She whirled around and threw up into the toilet. Only this time, she wasn’t sure the nausea was down to morning sickness or because she was more terrified than she’d ever been in her life.
* * *
Lachlan lost count of the number of times he checked his phone following Eliza’s departure. Why hadn’t she called yet? Had something happened on her way? An image of her slumped over the steering wheel, the car in a ditch (or worse), haunted him and for the first time since the restaurant had opened—for the first time in as long as he could remember—he burned someone’s dinner and had to start again.
If there’d been an accident, you’d have heard about it, he told himself as he tried to focus on cooking. But it was no good. He couldn’t get her out of his head. Taking a break he couldn’t really afford due to the full restaurant, he slipped outside and tried to call her. When her phone went to voice mail, he cursed and called Annabel.
She answered just as he was about to give up. “Hey, big bro, how can I help you?”
“Are you at home? Eliza left early because she wasn’t feeling well and I was wondering if you could go check on her?”
“Sorry. I’m in Bend at Noah’s house,” she said, naming her new boyfriend.
“Is Soph at home?”
“She’s out on a date.”
He cursed. Why had his sisters suddenly decided to throw their hearts and souls into dating when he needed them? “Okay, thanks. Bye.”
He shoved his phone back into his pocket, then headed back into the restaurant and willed everyone to leave early. Then, when all the desserts had finally been delivered to the tables, he handed the reins over to his barman—who was the most senior employee still there that night—and asked him to close up.
Only outside did he remember he’d insisted Eliza take his truck. He deliberated all of two seconds between taking her bike or jogging to the house and borrowing his mom’s car before he jumped on the bike. It might take him slightly longer but he wouldn’t have to explain himself to his mom or Blair, which would waste time.
Less than ten minutes later, he saw his truck parked outside her apartment building and pressed his hand to his heart as relief washed over him. But there was no time to catch his breath—he was still worried and knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep if he didn’t at least check on her before going home. He leaned the bike against a wall, went to the entrance and punched his sisters’ code into the security pad to let himself inside.
Less than thirty seconds later, he was pounding on Eliza’s front door. “Sweetheart, it’s Lachlan.”
No reply was forthcoming. He tapped his shoe against the floor, contemplating his next move and was just about to knock again when he heard the click of the lock and the door peeled back.
“You’ll wake the neighbors,” Eliza hissed.
He put his hand on the door and pushed it enough to let himself inside. “At least two of them are out and all I care about is you anyway.” Frowning, he lifted his hand and put it against her forehead. “You don’t have a temperature. Is it your stomach? Maybe you should lie down.”
She raised an eyebrow as she pulled away from him. “That’s what I was doing until someone knocked on my front door.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, feeling slightly chastised. “But I was worried. You didn’t call me to say you’d got home safely.”
“I forgot.” She hugged her arms to herself.
“Never mind. Let’s get you to bed and all snuggled up. I’ll look after you.” He shut the door behind him and reached for her again, ready to lead her into the bedroom and play nurse, but she all but pushed him away.
Lachlan blinked. He hadn’t seen this side of her before but she was kind of cute when she was grumpy. “You’re a little feisty when you’re sick, aren’t you?”
“I’m not sick,” she snapped. “I’m pregnant.”
And then she promptly burst into tears.
He stood there frozen for a few moments, watching the tears stream down her cheeks but too stunned to do anything about it. Pregnant? How could that possibly be? They might have had a lot of sex but they’d also used a lot of condoms.
Finally he found his voice. “Are you sure?”
“I can show you the positive pregnancy test if you don’t believe me,” she said, her words punctuated by sobs.
“No, of course, that’s not necessary,” he rushed, feeling like a real asshole. He chuckled nervously and thought of his two pregnant soon-to-be sisters-in-law. “There must be something in the water around here right now.”
When Eliza didn’t laugh, he took a breath and a tentative step toward her, trying once again to take her into his arms. This time, she didn’t resist. And as Eliza’s body molded again him, he tried to collect his thoughts.
They’d been so happy the last couple of weeks—the more he got to know Eliza, the more he wanted to know and the more they found out they had in common. He loved their conversations even more than he loved sleeping with her. When she walked into a room, his heart lifted and he always felt a mixture of nerves and
excitement. They were in that new, wonderful stage of a relationship where they couldn’t get enough of each other and whenever they were apart, he found himself counting down the moments until he could see her again.
It might only be early days and although they’d promised to take things slow, he knew without a doubt that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Getting her pregnant was not ideal but it wasn’t the end of the world.
And they couldn’t just ignore it.
“Come on, let’s go sit down,” he said eventually.
She let him lead her over to her couch and as she lowered herself into the chair, he added, “Can I get you anything? Is the nausea still bad? I could go out and get you some ginger soda if you want?”
He remembered that when Linda had terrible morning sickness with the twins, the only thing that helped was anything ginger.
She shook her head, so he sat down beside her and reached for her hand. “It’ll be okay,” he said.
“I don’t know how this happened,” she whispered. “We’ve always been so careful.”
And then it hit him. Oh, God. “You know that first time we slept together?”
She looked at him warily and nodded.
“That condom had been in my wallet for quite a while.” He grimaced. “It could have been out of date.”
Her eyes widened and she glared at him. “So this is your fault?”
“I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair. “But if you are pregnant, it’ll be okay. I love you, Eliza, and although a surprise, the idea of a little baby that’s part of you and me is beautiful.”
“You...love me?”
“Yeah. Yes, I do.” He grinned—although he’d suspected as such for a while, this was the first time he’d truly admitted to himself that things had progressed this far for him. He placed a hand against her stomach. “And you know what? I already love this little girl or guy, as well.
“You’re probably tired, and today’s been massive,” he continued, “but tomorrow we should get you in to see the local doctor. Chelsea and Bailey might be able to recommend their obstetricians to you, and of course, you’ll need to start on folic acid tablets right away. I’ll pick some up tomorrow for you, if you like. And if you’re not well enough for work or need to sleep longer then...”
The Single Dad's Family Recipe Page 16
