Pregnant at the Wedding / Baby Business. Katherine GarberaЧитать онлайн книгу.
I can do,” she replied, avoiding his eyes and wishing she could think of another subject. “Now you’ve seen my room.”
He turned to look at her bed. “I’ll know where to picture you in my mind when I talk to you on the phone.” His voice had lowered a notch, and she wondered if he was remembering their weekend together, too.
“That’s the tour. There’s an extra bedroom. Want something to drink?”
“Sure. I’ll have pop.”
He strolled beside her as they returned to the kitchen, where she got pop for him, ice water for herself and a plate of cookies. “We can go in the living room where it’s more comfortable,” she said. Seconds later, she was sitting on the sofa. He chose one of the chairs, putting distance between them, and she realized he was doing what he’d promised— going slowly.
“Has your family seen this place?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. My dad and brother don’t get into the city often unless there’s a cattle sale or something like that. My grandmother hardly ever leaves our area.”
“How’s your dad feeling?”
“He’s getting along all right from what my brother tells me. Jeff says Dad is still working too hard for a man who’s had a heart attack, but there’s nothing any of us can do about that. The flood last year was another big blow. Health insurance is an endless problem.”
“And you’re still helping out financially?” Ryan asked bluntly, and she nodded.
“Yes, I’m happy to,” she replied.
“I know what you mean,” he said, and she wondered if Ryan even remembered the sacrifices of his early years.
He stretched out his long legs. “I’m sorry your family has problems.”
“We’ll get through them. Dad says we always have.”
“So what weddings are coming up?” Ryan asked, changing the subject. As she talked, she realized he was a good listener.
Finally, he stood and picked up his glass. “I’ll put this in the kitchen and then I better go. It’s late.”
She glanced at her watch and was surprised to see it was nearly one in the morning. “Great heavens! On work nights I go to bed early.”
“Sorry if I kept you up past your bedtime. You should’ve thrown me out.”
“Oh, sure,” she said. “Leave your glass. I’ll put it up.”
He crossed the room to her. “Since I’m taking you to work in the morning, eat breakfast with me tomorrow. That’s harmless.”
“Ryan, nothing is ‘harmless’ with you,” she answered.
“Ah, now that’s great news,” he replied, and she shook her head. “So even breakfast with me is different from breakfast with John Doe or Susie Smith? Sometime I’ll try to discover why, but not yet. Tonight, I’m taking it ever so slowly—don’t you agree?”
“Of course, and you have to hear me say that, too.”
“I just want to make certain I’m doing what you like,” he said with great innocence. He stood inches away, and was bantering her, but she had spent an enjoyable evening with him. They had touched lightly and casually, but each contact was fiery, and longing had steadily built, until now she ached to wrap her arms around him and kiss him. She had no intention of doing so, yet she was certain that before he told her goodbye, that was exactly what he would do. She couldn’t imagine he would walk away without a kiss.
“I’ll pick you up, so let’s have breakfast.”
“All right,” she said, glancing at her watch. “I have to have my sleep. I’ll call and arrange to go in late, so can you come at half-past eight—or does that make you too late?”
“Half-past eight it is.” They walked to the door, and he turned to face her.
“Thanks for the delicious dinner,” she said. “It was a nice evening.”
“I thought it was fantastic. I can’t wait until breakfast. Night, Ashley,” he said.
“Good night, Ryan,” she replied, while her heart raced. To her surprise, he turned and strolled toward his car. She was amazed he hadn’t given her even a light kiss, and she tried to ignore the ripple of disappointment she felt.
She waved to him and went inside, locking up and switching off lights. She was getting more involved with him instead of less, she knew, and wondered how much that was going to complicate her life.
It wasn’t until she showered for work the next morning that she realized she had made a big mistake.
Worrying, she blew her hair dry, her thoughts on Ryan. She had promised to eat breakfast with him, forgetting completely that all too often she suffered morning sickness.
She knew she could never get him to cancel coming to fetch her. She didn’t have a car, since she’d left it at work to go to dinner with him. Mulling over what to do, she dressed in a navy skirt and white blouse, then looped and pinned her hair on her head.
Promptly at half-past eight, Ryan arrived and rang her doorbell. When she opened it, she lost her breath at the sight of him.
Dressed in a charcoal suit and red tie, he looked incredibly handsome. “My, you look great,” she couldn’t resist saying, reminded again that her baby would have the most handsome father possible.
“That’s my line,” he said, his warm gaze traveling slowly over her. He inhaled and his chest expanded. When his eyes met hers again, she drew a long breath, because she could see desire in the depths of green.
“Let me get my purse,” she said, realizing her voice was breathless and wondering if he noticed.
As she returned, he watched her. She felt self-conscious, tingly, but couldn’t resist hoping she enticed him.
“You’re gorgeous,” he said quietly.
“Thanks, even though it’s a bit of an exaggeration. White blouse, navy skirt, ordinary office clothes,” she said, waving her hand toward herself.
“Not to me. And I’m seeing you without them. I still have a memory.”
Her pulse skipped. “Forget it, Ryan,” she said. “You go out and I’ll set my alarm,” she added.
“You’ve already triggered mine,” he drawled, with a sexy innuendo that made her breath catch.
As he drove, she tried to keep the conversation light, maintaining a stream of topics so they wouldn’t get into anything personal.
The sun was bright, the air clear and the sky a deep blue. The beautiful spring day lifted her spirits, and she wondered how much of her bubbling enthusiasm was because of the glorious day and how much was due to the charmer seated beside her.
He took her to an expensive restaurant where she had never eaten. The glassed-in dining area held an abundance of hanging green plants and pots of tropical flowers, all giving an open-air feeling and adding to the springtime ambience.
His eyebrows arched when she ordered only milk and an English muffin.
“I’m not particularly hungry,” she explained, already too aware of smells of coffee and bacon wafting in the air. She wished she had never accepted the invitation to breakfast with him, but she was into it now, and she tried to avoid thinking about food or looking at any that went by, carried by waiters.
When her muffin and milk were placed in front of her, she didn’t really want them.
Worse, Ryan was served a platter holding an omelet and slices of bacon, patties of sausage and fat, golden biscuits. He had steaming coffee and a chilled glass of orange juice.
Her queasy stomach churned, and she excused herself,