Baby, I'm Home Page 2

  She snorted and guided the car onto I-94 East. “I have a feeling it wouldn’t bode well for us if I could.”

  “I think you’re wrong.” His voice was barely loud enough for her to hear over the song playing on the radio. “I suspect we wouldn’t fight nearly as often if you could.”

  Well, hell. When he said shit like that, she wanted to wrap him in her arms and hold on for dear life, the rest of the world and any preconceived notions anyone might have—including her—be damned.

  * * *

  As soon as the server stepped up to their table, Chad ordered a Traverse City Cherry Wheat while Jenna sighed and ordered a water with lemon. She watched him lift the bottle to his lips while saliva pooled in her mouth. Not that she’d been much of a beer drinker before she found out she was pregnant, but there was something about forbidden fruit. And Chad.

  He was most certainly mouth-watering to watch as he savored his first beer since stepping foot on American soil after eight long months.

  “You act like you didn’t drink beer while you were overseas,” she commented.

  After smacking his lips, he replied, “Nope. I had plenty. Pale ale, mostly, since that was Gramps’s favorite and I was the only one willing to sneak him out for a pint whenever the nurse or my dad wasn’t looking.”

  She chuckled. “I can totally see that.”

  He lifted the bottle to his lips again and grinned. “One time, he was still in his pajamas, but he didn’t care. ‘Quick,’ he said, ‘it’s supposed to storm, so your parents’ golf game is probably gonna be cut short. We don’t have much time.’ And then we hopped into a cab. The bartender at the pub didn’t even act surprised at the way Gramps was dressed.”

  Jenna trailed her finger through the condensation on her glass. “So how are you? I know you were close with your grandfather.”

  He leaned back in his chair and twisted the bottle back and forth between his hands. “It sucked, at the end. I mean, he just withered away to nothing before he finally…you know.”

  That probably explained why the phone calls and texts had become fewer and further between this last month. She’d been angry, thinking he was abandoning her in her time of need—which he hadn’t even known about yet—when really, he was distracted by his grief.

  “I’m so sorry.” She reached across the table and rested her hand on his arm.

  “But you know what? Those last few months, until he was totally bedridden, anyway, were amazing. I know things were bad with us when I left, and this”—he nodded at her belly—“but I still don’t regret going. I’m just sorry I was gone so long. I thought—we all thought he’d be gone in a matter of weeks.”

  “You always said he was the toughest yet gentlest man you knew.”

  His smile was full of so much sadness, her stupid eyes started watering again. She dipped her head, her curls falling like a curtain she hid behind while she swiped away the tears.

  “You don’t have to hide the fact that you’re crying, Jenna.”

  She blew out a breath, sending the ringlets on her forehead fluttering. “It’s just annoying. Everything makes me cry right now. There are so many things about being pregnant that nobody told me about. Or maybe they did and I just didn’t listen. Obviously I wasn’t expecting this to happen at this point in my life.”

  “Yeah, me neither.”

  The server stepped up and placed an Atwater burger in front of Chad and a Michigan salad in front of her. After a few moments of comfortable silence while they ate, Jenna said, “I don’t expect anything of you, if you don’t want to be involved.”

  He swallowed the bite in his mouth and arched one dark brow. She’d always been jealous of his ability to do that. After another pull from his beer, he said, “Really? You have no expectations of me whatsoever? You’re going to do this alone, huh?”

  “I have thus far.”

  Pointing at her with his beer bottle, he said, “That’s not fair. You didn’t tell me. How the hell was I supposed to be involved before now?”

  With her arms crossed and her shoulders slumped, she grumbled, “You gonna hold that over my head forever?”

  “No, but you can’t make accusations when I haven’t had a chance to prove myself. If you’d told me, I would have come home sooner.”

  “Yeah, and then I’d have to deal with the guilt of causing you to miss your grandfather’s last days, and his funeral. Not to mention your parents would hate me even more than they already do.”

  “They don’t hate you. Like I’ve been telling you since you met them, that’s all in your head. I don’t think your parents hate me.”

  “You probably should.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. Shit.

  He narrowed his eyes and watched her, lips pursed, shoulders tensed. “What do they think, Jenna?”

  She stayed silent.

  “They think I abandoned you, don’t they?”

  Maybe. She really had tried to convince them otherwise, but hell, she hadn’t even known how he’d react. This was all new territory for her, too.

  “Are you serious?” He grabbed his napkin off his lap and threw it onto his plate, covering his half-eaten burger. “I didn’t even know. You didn’t fucking tell me.”

  As his voice rose in volume, her gaze darted around the restaurant. He stabbed his finger at her and didn’t bother to lower his voice.

  “You’re looking for clients, aren’t you? The junior accountant inside of you who bills by the hour is afraid they’ll see us fighting and it might hurt her business,” he mocked. “So fucking typical. You haven’t changed a bit, have you?” He whipped out his phone and tapped the screen. “Fuck this. I’m calling an Uber and going back to my parents’ house.”

  “You want to talk typical?” she snapped back, waving at his phone. “Look at you. Running away. Just like always. Why don’t you stay for once and hash it out?”

  His gaze snapped up to her face while his hand froze, hovering over the electronic device. “Hash what out? The fact that you let your parents believe I’m some asshole loser who ditches his girl after he knocks her up? Jesus Christ, Jenna, give me some credit.”

  The server stepped up to their table, the smile on her face wavering. “Uh, you guys want the check?”

  “Yes,” they said in unison. Neither glanced her way.

  The tension in the air was thick as a blanket while they sat in silence, waiting to pay their bill and get the hell out of a public place. They probably should have grabbed takeout. She should have known they’d get into an argument. This baby was an undeniable indication that Chad needed to deal with his—their—future, and he’d managed to avoid doing that for more than three years now.

  That last morning before he’d left, Jenna had demanded as much. “I want to talk about our relationship, Chad,” she said. “I want you to move in with me.”

  In a matter of minutes, or so it seemed at the time, they were embroiled in the worst fight they’d ever had and she’d screamed at him not to ever come back as he stormed out the door to catch his flight.

  Now he was back. For better or worse, they were stuck together, at least through this kid, even if they didn’t actually stay together.

  What the hell were they going to do?

  Chapter Three

  Despite their argument at the restaurant, Jenna drove straight to her apartment instead of dropping him at his parents’ house. Not that it would have mattered. He would have hopped into his car and followed her home if she had.

  They had a lot to talk about.

  Pregnant. She was pregnant. With his kid. He was going to be a dad.

  A father.

  There were three prominent father figures in Chad’s life. Well, two, now, since Gramps was gone. And he’d been the best one too. What a shame he hadn’t been able to stick around a few more months to meet his great-grandchild.

  The other two were his father and Jenna’s dad, Terrill Mackery. Terrill was laid-back, funny, and placed his daughter on a ped
estal that she strived far too hard to remain on. Her dad didn’t expect her to work nearly as hard as she did, but Chad had never been able to convince her of that.

  His father, Dustin Wessex, on the other hand, never seemed pleased or disappointed in any damn thing Chad did, so long as it didn’t interfere with his golf game.

  If he could choose, he’d rather be like Gramps, except he’d never asked the man what sort of father he’d been, and now it was too late. He supposed he could ask his dad, but first he had to actually tell the man he was going to be a grandfather. Wonder how that’s going to go over.

  Jenna was right that his parents had been taken aback the first time he introduced her to them and they realized she was half black, but he didn’t think they were truly against their relationship. In fact, his mother had said many times that Jenna was the best thing to ever happen to him.

  Would that change once they learned he and Jenna were having a baby out of wedlock? Because that would be the true issue, not her heritage. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise him in the least if his mom tried to push them into getting married before this baby was born. And if Jenna’s girth was any indication, that was happening soon.

  “When?” he asked after dragging his luggage into her living room and dropping onto the couch. He was tired to the bone. It was only seven in the evening, but it felt like well after midnight, as he’d been living in a different time zone since before Halloween.

  He watched as she lowered herself into a chair. He should have gotten up to help her because it seemed to be a difficult task to accomplish, but damn, he never realized how pregnancy affected everyday tasks, and now she was already seated.

  “When what?” she asked.

  “When are you due?”

  “I’m a little less than four weeks away. July fourth, actually.”

  He nodded, his eyes closed. “That’d be cool. I could convince the kid the fireworks are for his birthday. Wait. Is it a boy or girl?” He cracked one eye to look at her as she shrugged.

  “Don’t know. I told them I didn’t want to know the sex when I had my ultrasound.”

  “How come?”

  She did that thing with her eyes she did whenever she didn’t want to tell him something. Sort of a quick glance away then down as her cheeks turned pink. And then she cleared her throat.

  “I, um, figured if you came home before I had the baby, we could find out together. I guess the idea sort of helped me feel less guilty for not telling you.”

  Ah. He had no interest in harping on the fact she hadn’t told him. Because truth was, he had no idea how he would have reacted. Whatever he would have done would have been wrong. He’d have either missed his grandfather’s last days or her pregnancy. To be honest, he was relieved the decision had been taken out of his hands.

  “Do you have another ultrasound coming up, or do we have to wait until it’s born?”

  “Now we just wait. Although I do have appointments every week until then.”

  “Can I go with you?”

  He heard her sharp intake of breath, like his question surprised her. It was irritating, since she had no idea how he would react or what he thought about this whole pregnancy gig, yet she’d already formed opinions. And they’d been together long enough that he knew whatever she had decided about him would likely lead to an argument.

  And shit, could they even make up like they usually did? He glanced at her belly. “Can we have sex?”

  She arched her brows. “Like, right this minute?”

  “No, not literally.” Exhaustion was hitting him hard right now, and he probably needed a few hours before he could perform to the standards she had come to expect from him. “I meant at all.”

  “Yes. I mean, I haven’t, you know, obviously, but…”

  It wasn’t obvious, considering the way they’d left things when he went to Scotland, but it was nice to hear.

  “Good,” he said, and he crossed his arms behind his head. “Give me a few hours, and then we can make up properly.” And then he closed his eyes and promptly fell asleep.

  * * *

  Chad woke to the smell of frying bacon. And toast. And eggs. His stomach growled, reminding him he hadn’t even finished half his burger before they abruptly left the restaurant.

  Opening his eyes, he glanced around Jenna’s apartment. It was modest and clean, with sliding glass doors leading to a small balcony and a dining alcove off a galley kitchen. The corner next to the glass doors was piled high with boxes and baskets and various foreign-looking contraptions he guessed had to do with the baby who would soon be making an appearance.

  This apartment was also only one bedroom. Where was the baby going to sleep? Speaking of the baby, how crazy had yesterday been? It was yesterday, right? The stream of sunlight pouring through the glass doors told him it was definitely daytime, and the clock hanging above her TV stand said it was almost eight, which meant he’d slept for a solid twelve hours.

  After a trip to the bathroom and that delicious-smelling breakfast in his belly, maybe he’d start feeling normal again. Whatever the hell normal was these days.

  “Hey, sleepyhead,” Jenna said when he headed for the coffeepot in the kitchen.

  “Morning. Smells great.”

  “It’s ready, too.” She slid a duo of eggs over easy onto a plate already laden with toast, bacon, and a bunch of grapes, and handed it to him.

  “Thanks.” Instead of heading to the table to eat, he leaned against the counter and devoured his meal while she fried up another couple of eggs for herself.

  “For the first few months, the smell of bacon made me nauseous,” she admitted while she cooked. “Now I can’t get enough of it, even though I’m not supposed to eat it.”

  “Really? Why not?”

  She shrugged and flipped off the burner before sliding the eggs from the pan to her plate. “Seems like practically everything is bad for a pregnant woman, if you listen to the internet.”

  “You know what they say about things you read online.”

  “Luckily, I do, and I also have a really cool OB, who basically says everything in moderation.”

  She mimicked his stance, leaning against the counter and lifting the plate above her belly so she could fork eggs and bacon into her mouth. She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail, the curls sticking out of the band every which way, like she’d been electrocuted at some point this morning. Her face was devoid of makeup, which made her look at least five years younger. He used to tease her that he always felt like he was robbing the cradle when she didn’t wear makeup, even though she was actually six months older than him.

  She wore what he assumed were pajamas—slate blue cotton pants and a baggy shirt with a wide boat neck that gave him a bird’s eye view of her rather abundant cleavage. She’d had more than a handful before this pregnancy, but now…well, he sure wished he could get his hands on those puppies. And his lips. And maybe…

  He cleared his throat. “So, what’s on the agenda today?” He hadn’t missed the laptop perched on the small dinette table. Saturday morning and she was working. Typical. Did she still plan to work a thousand hours a week after she had the baby?

  “Well, before you texted and said you were coming home, I was planning to sort through all those baby supplies in the living room.”

  While he rinsed his plate and put it in the dishwasher, he said, “That’s a lot of stuff. Do babies really need all that?”

  “So I’m told.” She placed her plate, still half full of food, on the counter and grabbed her glass of orange juice before wandering out into the living room. Chad followed, until they stood side by side in front of the pile of baby gear in the corner. “Now I have to figure out where to put it all.”

  He picked up a box that said it contained a state-of-the-art breast pump. “How did you know what to buy?”

  “My mom helped. And I’ve had a few baby showers. My family threw one. And my co-workers. And my girls from college.”

  His family should hav
e thrown her one. Of course, if they had, all the crap she’d have gotten wouldn’t fit in this apartment. But then again, he had no doubt his parents would have either bought them a house or convinced them to move into theirs. God knew it was plenty big enough.

  And Jenna would hate every minute of living there.

  “Well, let’s get to work.”

  She canted her head. “You want to help sort through all this stuff? Don’t you need to go check on your parents’ house or something?”

  “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I just…I don’t know. I don’t know how to act, what to do with you right now. This, all of this.” She used the hand holding the juice glass to indicate the space around them. “It’s all just so…out of sorts right now.”

  “You’re telling me. I’m still trying to wrap my head around my favorite person in the world being gone, and yet I’m kind of excited over checking out all these gadgets here. Well, second-favorite person,” he quickly amended, which brought a smile to her lips. Lips he hadn’t yet tasted, and he’d been home a full half day by this point.

  “I want to kiss you,” he said quietly, steadily watching her as she flushed and dropped her gaze to the carpet.

  “I’ve missed you,” she admitted, and he took that as permission, taking her glass from her hand and placing it, along with his mug, on the coffee table before sliding his arm around her back and pulling her into his side, this time prepared for her belly. From this angle he could sidle right up to her, his erection rubbing against her hip, while he cupped her cheek and gently turned her face toward him.

  He watched as her eyes fluttered closed, her long lashes sweeping her cheeks, while her lips puckered slightly. He parted his lips, his tongue darting out, wetting them, then he kissed her, gently at first, then more insistently as time and distance and anger and shock all melted away, and for a few moments, everything was the way it was before.

  Before he’d gotten that call letting him know Gramps was terminal and they were moving him into hospice. Before Chad had decided he needed to be there, even if there was halfway around the world. Before he’d determined Jenna wouldn’t take the time off work to go with him, so he hadn’t bothered to ask. Before they’d had good-bye sex that, admittedly, had been freaking awesome yet had put them in their current position.