The Prodigal Bride. Beth Cornelison
shift into a combative demeanor, and Gage, clearly reading her body language, placed a hand on her knee, silently advising patience. The warmth of his hand seeped through her jeans and stirred a giddy flutter in her belly. The memory of their wedding kiss teased the edges of her thoughts, rattling her further. Why did Gage have this unnerving effect on her now? Was it just because they were married? Biting her lip, she fumbled for composure before answering her father. “No. He … we broke up.”
She divided a glance between her parents, gauging their reaction to this news. Her father arched a graying eyebrow, indicating he expected an explanation, while her mother’s expression lit with hope and relief. Beside the couch where Zoey perched, a large grandfather clock stood sentinel over the room, while its ticktocking reverberated in the ensuing quiet like a game-show timer, urging her to continue.
Her father crossed his arms and cocked his head. “How much did he take you for?”
His confidence in his question chafed. Zoey raised her chin, vacillating between, “Who says he took me for anything?” and the truth. But what good would denials do, other than salve her pride for a few seconds before she came clean?
She rubbed her palms on her jeans and huffed a sigh. “Everything.”
Her mother gasped. Her father groaned. Gage wrapped his hand around hers and squeezed. The gesture, in the face of her parents’ obvious dismay and disappointment in her, was like landing in an unexpected safety net after a ten-story fall.
I’m here. I stand with you. I care. His unspoken support brought tears to her eyes.
Neil Bancroft narrowed his eyes and frowned. “Your savings?”
She nodded.
“Your inheritance?”
More tears prickled her eyes. Shame was a bitter pill. “Everything.”
“Criminy, Zoey!” Neil shoved a hand through his silver hair. “I knew this would happen. I told you he was—”
“A jerk and a loser and a freeloader, and I didn’t listen because I was in love.” Zoey shoved to her feet, raising her voice to be heard over her father’s. “I know. You were right, and I screwed up. Again. I’m a disappointment to the family, and the worst daughter ever. Does that about cover it?”
“No, honey! Don’t say that.” Her mother rushed over to her, placing herself between her husband and daughter. “You’re a wonderful daughter, and we love you.”
“What about your stock in the company? Your shares of Bancroft Industries?”
“Neil!” Ellen sent her husband a quelling look.
But Zoey’s spirits lifted. She’d forgotten her stake in the family business, small though it was. Derek hadn’t gotten everything. “No.” Relief filled her tone. Her smile welled from inside her, and she turned to Gage before answering her father. “I still have my stock.”
Her father dragged a hand over his face as he stalked to a wingback chair and sat down. “Well, that’s something anyway.”
Her mother gave her father another scolding look, then turned to Zoey with a stiff smile. “You said you had news. Good news?”
The hopeful tone of her mother’s question, as if she didn’t really expect good news and was bracing for the worst, raked through Zoey. Not that she could blame her mom. Zoey had more often than not been the bearer of bad news. She’d gotten detention for cutting class. She’d maxed out her credit card. She wasn’t going to college. She’d gotten arrested at an environmental group’s protest rally and needed to be bailed out of jail.
Yeah, she’d dropped a few bombs in her day. And today’s missile had an atomic warhead.
“Um, well …” When she hedged, Gage shoved to his feet and slid an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. The press of his hard body against hers brought a flush to her skin from her scalp to her toes.
“Yes. Good news. Very good news.” His voice was strong, confident and happy. He gave her a side glance that said Trust me.
Her father raised his eyebrow. Go on.
Her mother leaned forward, her expression eager.
Zoey opened her mouth, then closed it, the words stuck in her throat. I’m pregnant.
When she faltered, Gage jumped in again. “We’re married.” She could hear a smile in his voice as he made the announcement, and Zoey’s heart tripped.
Her parents stared, mouths gaping.
“It was an impromptu thing, but heartfelt,” he continued. “I’ve been waiting ten years for her to say yes, so when she did, I didn’t waste time and give her the chance to back out.”
Shock gave way to joy on her mother’s face, and her father sat back in his chair nodding his approval. And why not? Gage had always been like a son to them, thanks to his many hours with the family, his place at the table for holiday meals, his help with yard work, repairs and washing dishes. When each of his parents died, her parents had anonymously paid for the funerals, though Gage had figured out easily enough who’d made the generous gesture.
Gage stroked his hand from her shoulder to her arm and hugged her to his side, beaming, playing his part as a newlywed to a T. Apparently, he should have been on the stage instead of working on the sets during high school. The guy had a hidden acting talent, currently out in force. Zoey almost believed that he was really as blissful as he pretended about their I’m-saving-your-ass, not-really-real marriage of convenience. And like a lust-crazed honeymooner’s, her nerve endings crackled in response to his tender touch, and a hum of desire coiled in her belly.
Although distracted by her reaction to Gage, she summoned a bit of her own thespian talent and flashed a smile to her parents. “And …” She paused for dramatic effect as if she were spilling the best part, instead of the catch. “We’re expecting. I’m pregnant.”
The shock returned. More gaping.
Zoey’s cheeks felt leaden as she tried to hold her smile in place. “I’m due in April.”
Ellen pressed her hand to her mouth. “Oh, Zoey, Gage, congratulations! I’m so happy for you.” She stepped up to them and drew them both into a group hug. “This is such a surprise … except not really. I always had a feeling you two might end up together. Oh!” Her mother laughed and kissed Gage’s cheek. “Welcome to the family, honey.”
Zoey peered around Gage as her mother hugged him again, and they exchanged more pleasantries. Her father hadn’t said anything yet, and his gaze was directed toward the floor.
His expression boded ill. He didn’t appear mad exactly. More confused, skeptical.
She swallowed hard. Oh, Lord. He was doing the math. When he met her gaze, Zoey knew she was busted.
“The baby isn’t Gage’s, is it?”
Her mother and Gage fell silent, turning toward Neil when he spoke. Zoey’s heart thumped. She said nothing.
“It’s Derek’s baby. Am I right?” Her father’s expression sagged with disenchantment.
Zoey raised her chin, working to keep her hurt and frustration from coloring her tone. But failing. “It’s my baby. That’s what matters.”
“And that’s why Gage married you,” he spoke softly, but his tone radioed his disillusionment. “Because you were pregnant, and Derek had dumped you.”
“Maybe I dumped Derek.” Semantics, she knew, but Zoey felt compelled to put a more positive spin on the matter. “What matters is I saw his true stripes, and he’s out of my life.”
Or so she hoped. She could still hear the desperation in his voice as she and Gage drove away from the Vegas motel. You haven’t heard the last of me, Red! You owe me!
She