Expecting Trouble. Delores FossenЧитать онлайн книгу.
meant Cal had come to confront her about naming him as Sophie’s father. That alone was a powerful reason for a visit. She owed him an explanation.
And a Texas-size apology.
But for now, all Jenna wanted to do was get inside her apartment and make sure that hired gun, Anthony Salazar, was nowhere near her baby. And to think he might have been following her on her entire walk to the grocery store. Or even longer. He could have taken out a gun and fired at any time, and there wouldn’t have been a thing she could do to stop it.
He could have hurt Sophie.
Maybe because she was shaking now, Cal tightened his grip around her, pulling her deeper into the warmth of his arm, while increasing the pace until they were jogging.
“I didn’t name you as my baby’s father to hurt your career,” she assured him. “I didn’t think anyone other than Holden would hear what I was saying.”
A deep sound of disapproval rumbled in Cal’s throat. He didn’t offer anything else until they reached the bookstore. Her apartment was at the back and up the flight of stairs on the second floor.
“You have a security system?” he asked as they hurried up the steps.
“Yes.”
She unlocked the door—both locks—tossed the groceries and her purse on the table in the entry and bolted across the room. The sixteen-year-old sitter, Manda, was on the sofa reading a magazine. Jenna raced past her to the bedroom and saw Sophie sleeping in her crib. Exactly where she’d left her just a half hour earlier at the start of her afternoon nap.
“Is something wrong?” Manda asked, standing.
Jenna didn’t answer that. “Did anyone come by or call?”
Manda shook her head, obviously concerned. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” Jenna lied. “I just had a bad case of baby separation. I had to get back and make sure Sophie was all right. And she is. She’s sleeping like…well, a baby.”
Still looking concerned, Manda nodded, and her gaze landed on Cal.
“He’s an old friend,” Jenna explained. She purposely didn’t say Cal’s name. Best not to give too much information until she knew what was going on. Besides, she’d already caused Cal enough trouble.
Jenna took the twenty-dollar bill from her pocket and handed it to Manda. “But I was barely here thirty minutes,” the teen protested. “Five bucks an hour, remember?”
“Consider the rest a tip.” Jenna put her hand on Manda’s back to get her moving. She needed some privacy so she could find out what was going on.
“Why didn’t the alarm go off when we came in?” he wanted to know as soon as Manda walked out with her magazine tucked beneath her arm. It wasn’t a question, exactly. More like the start of a cross-examination.
“It’s connected to the bookstore.” She shut the door and locked it. “The owner turns it on when she closes for the evening.”
That didn’t please him. His disapproving gaze fired around the apartment, but it didn’t have to too far. It was one large twenty-by-twenty-five-foot room with an adjoining bath and a tiny nursery. The kitchenette and dining area were on one side, and the living room with its sofa bed was on the other. It wasn’t exactly quaint and cozy with the vaulted, exposed beam ceiling, but it was a far cry from her massive family home near Houston.
“Why this place?” he asked after he’d finished his assessment.
“It has fewer shadows,” she said, not wanting to explain about her sudden fear of bogeymen, assassins and rebel fighters.
She could still hear the bullets.
She’d always be able to hear them.
Cal nodded and eased the grocery bag onto the tiletopped table.
“You want a drink or something?” Jenna motioned to the fridge.
“No, thanks.” There was an unspoken warning at the end of that. That was her cue to start explaining this whole baby-daddy issue.
She was feeling light-headed and was still shivering, so Jenna snagged the trail mix from her grocery bag and went to the sofa so she could sit down.
“First of all, I didn’t know what I said about the baby would even get back to you. To anyone.” She popped a cashew into her mouth and offered him some from the bag. He shook his head. “Yesterday, when Holden called, I’d just returned from Sophie’s three-month checkup with the pediatrician. Right away, he started yelling, saying that he knew that I’d had a child.”
“How did he know?”
“That’s the million-dollar question.” But then, Jenna rethought that. “Or maybe not. I stopped by my house on the outskirts of Houston to pick up some things before I went to the appointment. Holden probably had someone watching the place and then followed me. I was careful. You know, always checking the rearview mirror and the parking lot at the clinic. But he could have had that Salazar guy following me the whole time.”
In hindsight, she should have anticipated Holden would do something like this. In fact, she should have known he would. He was as tenacious as he was ruthless.
“So Holden confronted you about the baby?” Cal asked.
“Oh, yes. Complete with yelling obscenities. And that was just the prelude. No more facade of being in love with me. He demanded to know if Paul was Sophie’s father. If so, he said he would challenge me for custody.”
“Custody?” Cal didn’t hide his surprise very well.
“Apparently, Paul had some kind of provision in his will that would make Holden the legal guardian to any child that Paul might have—if I’m proven unfit, which Holden says he can do with his connections. After he threatened me with that, I stalled him, trying to think of what I should say, and your message was still in my head. It made the leap from my brain to my mouth before I could stop it, and I just blurted out your name.”
Cal walked closer and slid onto the chair across from her. Close enough for her to see all the scorching blue in his eyes. And close enough to see the emotion and the anger, too. “My message?”
She swallowed hard. “The one you left on my voice mail at my office about a month ago. My assistant sent it to me, and I’d recently listened to it.”
A lot. In fact, she’d memorized it.
She’d found his voice comforting, and that’s why she’d replayed it. Night after night. When she couldn’t sleep. When the nightmares got the best of her. But his voice wasn’t comforting now, of course. Coupled with his riled glare, there wasn’t much comforting about him or this visit.
Well, except that he’d put his arm around her when he thought she was cold.
A special kind of special agent.
He still looked the part, even though he wasn’t in battle gear today. He wore jeans, a dark blue buttondown shirt that was almost the same color as his eyes and a black leather jacket.
“Anyway, after I realized it was stupid to give Holden your name,” she continued, “I thought about calling him back and making something up. But I figured that’d only make him more suspicious.”
Because Cal wasn’t saying anything and because she suddenly didn’t know what to do with her hands, Jenna offered him the trail mix again, and this time he reached into the bag and took out a few pieces.
“I’ve done everything to keep my pregnancy and delivery quiet. Everything,” Jenna said, aware that her nerves were causing her to babble. It was either that, humming or reciting something, and she didn’t want to launch into a neurotic rendition of the Preamble to the Constitution. “I don’t have any family, and none of my friends know. No one here in Willow Ridge really knows who I am, either.”