One Night, So Pregnant!. Heidi Rice
she yelped. ‘It’s not a baby yet—it’s a collection of cells.’
His gaze swept over her. The sheen of distress in her striking green eyes spoke of someone on an emotional knife-edge. Damn, she really was an accomplished little actress.
‘Whatever it is,’ he said, because she appeared to have missed the point, ‘I’m not the father.’
She didn’t say anything.
‘Look, sweetheart,’ he said, keeping the smile firmly in place, ‘I wore a condom that night. And we only did it once. And while my sperm might be Olympic swimmers, even they can’t swim through latex.’
‘I know you wore a condom,’ she said. ‘But you obviously didn’t put it on as efficiently as you did everything else that night.’ The tartness of the reply surprised him. He’d expected contrite by now, and maybe some wheedling. Instead, her slender frame stiffened, as if she were getting ready for battle. The flush of colour in her cheeks turned the pale skin a vibrant pink and the flash of temper in her eyes made the green sparkle. He forced himself to ignore the residual hum of arousal.
‘I put the condom on just fine,’ he stated easily as a slow-burning resentment settled low in his gut.
She gave a soft sigh, but the expression in her eyes when they met his again seemed more weary than calculating. He knew it all had to be part of her act, making the strange tightening in his gut kind of annoying.
‘If you say so,’ she said at last, the words barely audible. She gripped the strap of her purse and gave him a stiff little nod. ‘I guess this is goodbye, then, Nathaniel. It was certainly a memorable night.’ The wistful tone shocked him, but not as much as the sight of her slim shoulders rigid with tension as she crossed the room and walked out of the door without a backward glance.
CHAPTER TWO
TESS waited for her jerky breathing to even out as she gazed through the windshield of her ancient car at the kitsch Victorian splendour of her friend Eva’s house in Haight Ashbury.
Eva and her husband Nick had taken over the whole building six months ago, after the birth of their son Carmine—or Carmageddon as Nick had renamed him when he’d started teething—and the scaffolding had only gone down this week. But already it looked like the wonderfully eccentric family home Eva and Nick had been aiming for. The wide bay windows glinted in the late August sunshine and seemed to spotlight the light blue trim of the pergola on the top floor. A shameful sense of envy mixed with the misery making Tess’s stomach heave.
She flexed her fingers, forcing them to relinquish their death grip on the worn leather cover of the steering wheel and lifted the housewarming gift off the passenger seat. Tess held the package a little too tightly as she climbed out of the Chevy. She didn’t bother locking the car. After all, who would steal it?
Tess had spent all her wages in the last year putting together a designer wardrobe any professional events planner could be proud of, but right now looking the part was the least of her worries. She worked on a freelance basis and had some lucrative contracts already for next year, but nothing spectacular. And she’d been living beyond her means. Along with her designer wardrobe she had recently moved into a new duplex in Parnassus that she adored, but which cost over three thousand dollars a month. She’d known she was stretching her budget at the time, but who cared about a few extra credit-card bills when her career was coasting along nicely?
Her lungs clogged and her stomach churned all the harder. Well, now she cared.
She didn’t have any real job security; she had fairly basic healthcare coverage and overheads that would sink her into serious debt if she took a break from work.
She’d have to start hunting for extra work and to do that she would need to look into more reliable transportation—and sell some of her precious clothes online. But even with a better car, what chance did she really have of finding enough work in the middle of a recession to provide for a career break and then two mouths to feed?
She blinked furiously, her eyes stinging.
Don’t think about it. Not yet. You don’t have to decide right away.
She walked up the front steps and pressed the bell, but the lump of anguish got stuck in her throat as despair overwhelmed her. She’d once thought she would never feel more alone than she had at fifteen, but after her disastrous encounter with Nate Graystone this morning she’d discovered she was wrong.
Please be in, Eva.
She squared her shoulders and tucked the present under her arm to press the bell again.
Eva had to be in. She was the sweetest, most genuine person Tess had ever met. They’d been casual friends in uni, but since Eva had moved to San Francisco three years ago and married Nick Delisantro, they’d become much closer.
Eva wouldn’t judge her, she would sympathise and comfort and help her figure out what to do. Eva ran a successful internet-based genealogy company. Eva was smart and analytical and sensible. It was how she had ended up with such a perfect life. A drop-dead gorgeous husband who adored her and a beautiful little baby boy…
Tess’s rambling thoughts skidded to a stop. She didn’t think she could stand to see Carmine, not right now. She glanced at her watch. No, no, it would be fine, Carmy would be having his afternoon nap. Eva was a complete stickler about her son’s routine.
Tess pushed her shoulders back and let out a shaky sigh when she heard the thud of footsteps. The latch clicked, the door swung open and Tess’s gaze landed on baby Carmine’s moonlike face, his round cheeks flushed pink and the soft brown curls stuck down on one side of his head.
‘Tess! Hi. Oh, my goodness, we didn’t have a lunch date, did we? I must have forgotten.’
Tess heard her friend say the words. But all she could see was the perfect little person in Eva’s arms. And then Carmine grinned, held up his chubby little arms towards Tess, as he always did whenever he saw her, and let out a belly laugh.
And the black hole of guilt imploded inside her.
Tess placed the gift on the kitchen counter in a trance as Eva popped Carmine into his baby swing. Her friend wound a dial on the swing and a piped version of something vaguely reminiscent of ‘Lullaby Baby’ tinkled out.
‘Look at him!’ Eva exclaimed as the baby chortled and pumped his arms up and down like a sumo wrestler. ‘Wide awake again after a twenty-minute nap.’ She wagged a finger at him, which made him giggle. ‘Your father is going to have words with you, Buster.’
‘I came to drop this off. But I have to go…’ Tess paused, struggling to think of an excuse as the tears and the nausea welled up at the same time.
Get a grip. Please, get a grip. It’s a bundle of cells. Not a baby. It can’t be.
But she couldn’t seem to feel anything but numb as Eva frowned. ‘Tess, what’s the matter? You look shell-shocked.’
Tess dropped onto one of the stools at the kitchen counter, the urge to escape replaced by the desperate need for comfort. For understanding. For an answer that wasn’t the one she most feared.
‘I’m pregnant.’ Her hands trembled so she clutched them in her lap.
Eva sat on the stool next to her and settled her hand over both of Tess’s. ‘I’d say congratulations, but you don’t look much like celebrating. When did this happen?’
‘Six weeks ago. Exactly. The night Dan dumped me.’
‘I see. I guess that’s not the best timing,’ Eva said gently, the sympathy in her voice and the stupid sound of the piped lullaby making emotion close Tess’s throat. ‘Have you told Dan yet? About the baby?’
‘It’s not a baby,’ Tess said automatically, although she already knew that desperate deception had stopped working the minute she’d laid eyes on Carmine. ‘And it’s not Dan’s.’