Their Child?: Lori's Little Secret / Which Child Is Mine? / Having The Best Man's Baby. Christine RimmerЧитать онлайн книгу.
time was Tucker going to want with Brody? Would she and Tucker end up in an ugly custody battle? How would Brody deal with finally learning who his natural father was.
Those questions, and the thousand more that haunted her, wouldn’t be answered until she talked to Tucker. And that wasn’t going to happen until after the wedding.
Lori decided she’d put all thoughts of Tucker out of her mind.
For now.
There was no point in second-guessing. The moment of truth would be on her soon enough. And after that, she’d get plenty of answers—whether she wanted them or not.
Thursday morning, as Lori lingered alone in her mother’s kitchen enjoying a second cup of coffee, the phone rang. She snatched the cordless handset off the wall without giving it a second thought. “Hello?”
“Just the woman I wanted to talk to.”
Her mind went totally blank. “I…uh, Tucker?”
“That’s right. And this is Lori, isn’t it?”
“Uh. Right. It’s me.”
He chuckled. The sound terrified her. What was he after? Why was he calling? She clutched the mouthpiece in a white-knuckled grip and resisted the urge to shout into the mouthpiece: Not now! Go away! I will talk to you—soon. Very soon…
The frantic, fearful thoughts tumbled over each other inside her head—and then spun to a stop.
She had a moment of terrible, absolute clarity.
How many ways were there to say coward? At that moment, Lori Lee Taylor knew them all—she was them all.
Gutless. Yellow. Gun-shy with cold feet. Lacking a backbone. Weak-kneed. Lily-livered. Scaredy-cat. Big baby. Chicken…
The list went on and on. And every word in it had her name on it.
If she wasn’t going to tell him until after the wedding, so be it. That didn’t mean she had to jump like a spooked rabbit every time she saw his face or heard his voice.
The man was her child’s father. In the end—which was coming up very soon now—she was going to have to learn to deal with him.
When she did tell him the truth, she didn’t want him thinking back on how she’d run away shaking every time he came near. He wasn’t going to be happy with her, when he found out. But until then, the least she could do was to treat him with courtesy and carry herself with a little damn dignity.
“I was wondering,” he said. She thought, Omigod, he’s going to ask me out. And then he did. More or less. “How about you and Brody coming on out to the ranch tonight? For barbecue. Brody can play with Fargo. And out at the stables, we’ve got a real sweet, mild-mannered pony he might like to try riding. I’ll make it my business to see he has a good time.”
Lori felt that awful stillness again, the one with the weight of all her lies carried in it. How had he known to make Brody the focus of his invitation? Was it possible he’d somehow guessed the truth? Her heart lurched in a sick, rough way.
But no. Nobody knew. Except Henry. She had told him, and only him, before they were married.
Only Henry knew. And Henry was gone.
So why did Tucker make it seem like it was all about Brody?
She knew why.
She was a single mom. And if a man wanted to get close to her, he had to make it clear he understood that Brody was a big part of her life—and would be a big part of the life of any man she took seriously.
Lori shut her eyes and drew in a long, slow breath.
“Lori. You still with me?”
“Uh. Yes. Yes, I’m right here.”
“So, what do you say?”
She swallowed and dared to ask, “It’s all about Brody, huh?”
He laughed then. “Well, not quite all. There’s also you…and me.” Something within her warmed and softened at those words. And she remembered…
His lean arms around her as they danced the last dance that fateful night, his voice a velvet whisper in her ear…
“I don’t want tonight to end…”
She had sighed and snuggled closer, her—Lena’s—pink satin gown rustling softly against the dark fabric of his tuxedo. And then she’d lifted her head from the cradle of his shoulder, tipping her face up to show him the yearning in her eyes. “I don’t either, Tucker. I want tonight to last forever…”
He looked down at her, his dark eyes shining with desire—for her, for Lori, though he didn’t even know it. “We could…go somewhere. Be alone. Just you and me…”
She lowered her lashes, rested her head once more against his shoulder, felt the hungry beating of his heart beneath her ear and the answering clamor of her own.
“Lena…” he whispered, breaking her pounding heart into a thousand tiny pieces.
And still, she dared to lift her head again and smile up at him. “Yes. Let’s do that. Let’s go somewhere…”
“Lori?” Tucker’s deep voice came to her—on the phone, now, today. “Will you come to the ranch, around five, you and Brody?”
She should tell him the truth, now.
Or tell him no.
She knew that.
Still, she opened her mouth and said, “Yes. We’ll come.”
Chapter Three
“Come on Fargo, come on, boy!”
Brody hauled himself out of the pool and took off, wet feet slapping the tiles, until he reached the expanse of green, green lawn. The lawn rolled out to the thick circle of oaks and pecan trees rimming the backyard grounds of the sprawling Double T ranch house. Brody ran on, across the jewel-green grass, dripping pool water, laughing. Fargo, yipping in excitement, chased at his heels.
Beyond the crown of trees, the sun had already set. Lori and Tucker sat by the pool in the gathering twilight as the boy and the dog played on the grass.
“I think he’s had a real good time,” said Tucker.
She slanted him a grin and took a sip from her margarita. “Understatement of the decade. He loved riding that pony. And I swear he ate a whole slab of those incredible ribs you served up.”
“I can’t take credit for the ribs. They’re Miranda’s specialty.” Miranda Coutera was the Double T’s housekeeper. Tucker lifted his margarita glass. “Likewise the margaritas.”
Lori tapped his glass with hers. “Here’s to Miranda.”
“Miranda,” he echoed softly.
The pool lights came on and cast a soft glow up toward the wide, slowly darkening Texas sky. A pesky mosquito buzzed near Lori’s ear.
She gave her neck a good, sharp slap. Then she laughed. “A summer night in Texas. Nothing like it.”
“Hey. At least it’s not a hundred and ten and so humid you work up a sweat just sitting still.” His eyes gleamed at her through the shadows. “Yet.”
They shared a long glance—a little too long. She cleared her throat. “I do like that about San Antonio. It’s not quite so humid as it can get around here.”
“You never mentioned the kind of work you do there—or do you have your hands full just being a mom?”
“I’m a dental assistant. Or I was. It’s a two-year degree. My dad paid my tuition and I went to school, starting