Unexpected Father. Delores Fossen
Lilly blinked, as if surprised by the question. “No.” She paused. “In fact, not only is the coma a blank, so are the last few hours before I got into the car.” She stopped, angled her head, studied him. “Is there something about the accident that the police are investigating?”
Jason chose his words very carefully.
“The case is still active. I’m sure the lead detective will want to question you when you’re feeling up to it.”
And he left it at that.
She made a soft hmm of agreement. And concern. “Then something must really be wrong for you to be here.”
It was, and since there was no good introduction for what he had to tell her, Jason just started with the basics. “The night Greg was killed, you had sex with him.”
Not a blink of surprise this time. More like a flash of anger over his bluntness. “I don’t want to discuss this—”
“I know it happened because he called and told me. In fact, he told me just minutes before he died.”
Since this was only a recap and since he hadn’t wanted to start an argument with her, Jason left out one important detail: Greg had thought the sexual encounter might lead to a permanent relationship with Lilly rather than her shutting him out of her life.
But she had shut him out.
And because of that, Greg was dead.
There it was. The flood of old memories. The still-fresh pain. Always the pain. Jason knew for a fact he wouldn’t forget that grief any time soon. Nor would he forget, or forgive, what Lilly had done.
“Is this actually leading somewhere?” Lilly prompted in that crisp voice that he’d learned to hate. “Because I’m not in the mood for a trip down memory lane, especially when you’re the one doing the navigating.”
“It’s leading somewhere.” Since he needed it, Jason took another deep breath. “You got pregnant that night. With Greg’s baby.”
That got her attention. Man, did it ever. She did a double take and her breathing stilled. “Excuse me?”
“You got pregnant,” Jason repeated. Because Lilly looked as if she badly needed it, and because he needed it, as well, he waited a couple of moments to give her some time to try to absorb that.
The plastic water cup started to collapse under the pressure of her grip. “I didn’t know.”
Jason had been afraid of that. So that meant Lilly was in for a double shock.
He’d have to save the third part of these revelations for another day since that news would probably stall her recovery and send her into a panic.
A hoarse sob clawed its way past her throat. “Oh, God. Oh. God. Pregnant. I got pregnant.” Her gaze slashed to his, and she groaned. “The accident caused me to miscarry, didn’t it?”
Her reaction surprised him, and that was putting it mildly. Jason had been expecting her to be upset at the news of an unplanned pregnancy.
Or maybe that’s how he’d hoped she would react.
Upset.
But this was a couple of steps past that particular emotion. He’d never thought of the workaholic, success-driven Lilly as overly eager to start a family, but she looked genuinely distressed over not just the pregnancy but the possibility of losing a child.
“No.” Jason let her know. Not easily. But he finally got out the denial. “You didn’t miscarry.”
With her eyes suddenly dark and wide with concern, Lilly opened her mouth. Closed it. Frantically shook her head. “What do you mean no?” The question was all breath. Not a hint of sound. Yet Jason heard it clearly.
“Your injuries were mainly caused by a piece of metal railing that came through the windshield,” Jason explained. “It hit you on the head, caused some major trauma. The airbag stopped any impact damage in your midsection and probably prevented you from miscarrying.”
She didn’t have much color in her face, but what was there, drained completely. Her bottom lip began to tremble. “I don’t understand.”
Jason waited a moment, until he stood a chance of his voice being steady. It wasn’t a hundred percent, but under the circumstances, it was the best he could do. “You carried the baby full term, and then the doctors delivered it via C-section.”
“Are you saying…” But she didn’t finish. Mumbling something indistinguishable, she dropped back onto the pillows and her eyelids fluttered down.
Since Jason needed to end this conversation right here, right now, he just tossed it out there. Quickly. Before he could change his mind, turn and leave. “You had a baby, Lilly. Nearly a year ago.”
She lay there. Not moving. Except for her lips. She continued to mumble something. A prayer, maybe. Then she opened her eyes. Slowly. As if she dreaded what she might see on his face.
“Had?” she repeated, obviously latching on to his use of the past tense. A tear streaked down her cheek.
A real honest-to-goodness tear.
In the six years he’d known her, he’d never seen Lilly cry. Oh, man. This was ripping them both to pieces—but for different reasons, of course.
Jason couldn’t stand that look of undiluted pain on her face, so he put an end to it. “Not had, Lilly,” he corrected. “You have a baby. A daughter.”
Chapter Two
If it’d been any person other than Jason Lawrence telling her this, Lilly might have thought it was a joke. But this no-shades-of-gray cop wasn’t the joking type. Heck, she wasn’t even sure he was the smiling type. Still—
A baby.
How could that be?
If this was the truth, then she would have been…what? She quickly did the math. She would have been two months pregnant when she was involved in the car accident. Two months, as in sixty days.
Yet she hadn’t known.
How could she have not known?
Her life had always been so organized. She’d known every appointment, every deadline. So, how could a missed period or two have escaped her notice?
Almost hysterically, Lilly slapped the plastic cup onto the table beside her bed so she could pinch herself. Hard. She felt it all right, the sting of the pressure on her skin. But that wasn’t definitive. Maybe she was still in a coma. Maybe she was dreaming about a pinch and a pregnancy.
Yes.
That was it. This had to be some weird dream, even though she couldn’t recall a single instance of a dream the entire time she’d been in a coma.
“It’s for real,” Jason volunteered as if he could hear the argument going on in her head.
He walked toward her, slowly, and held out his arm. Probably so she could touch him. Because she didn’t know what else to do, Lilly took him up on that offer. She reached out. Dreading, hoping and praying all at the same time. Her fingertips brushed against the smooth fabric of his bronze-colored jacket, which was nearly the same color as his short, efficient hair.
The jacket felt like…well, a jacket.
But Lilly went one step further. She slid her fingers over the back of his hand. Warm, human skin. Comforting in a primal sort of way.
And maybe in other ways, too.
She suddenly wanted to latch on to his hand, and it wasn’t totally related to her need to make sure she was truly conscious. Simply put, she needed a hug. Mercy, did she ever. Even though she was twenty-seven—no, make that twenty-nine—she suddenly felt as fragile as a newborn baby.
Ironic.