It Started With A Pregnancy. Christy Jeffries
Like I said, there’s no need to get all worked up over a store-bought test.”
Or two tests, if anyone was counting.
Grant sucked in a deep breath, his nostrils flaring slightly as he exhaled. “So when do we go to the doctor to confirm it?”
We. The skin on the back of her neck tingled. “Well, I have an appointment next week. If you want, I can send you a text afterward and let you know if there’s any news.”
There was no point in mentioning that she’d need to ask for his cell phone number again.
“A text? If there’s any news?” When his eyes finally focused on hers, Rebekah swallowed a tiny lump of guilt. There was accusation practically shooting from their blue depths. “Were you even planning to tell me?”
“Of course I planned to tell you.” Eventually. After she’d figured out what she was going to do. She twisted her lower lip between her teeth.
She waited for the next question to come—the one about whether the baby was his—but he only studied her intently before slowly nodding.
Grant slid his smartphone out of his pocket and she remembered when the device had been sitting out on the table that evening while they were closing down happy hour. She’d commented on the battered cover and the cracked screen and he’d told her the story of how he’d been testing out one of his company’s waterproof cases when he’d wiped out near a coral reef and cracked his surfboard in half. The still-functional phone was one of his biggest marketing tools when it came to selling his company’s tech products. Not that she had a very clear picture of exactly what it was he did for the company.
This wasn’t good, she thought, giving her head a quick shake to clear it. She might be having this man’s baby, yet she didn’t even know what he did for a living.
“What day is the appointment?” he asked as he swiped at an app on his phone. It was the same online calendar she’d unsuccessfully tried to get her parents to use.
“Um...” Rebekah tilted her head, unsure if she wanted him to know. Unfortunately, he’d practically accused her of keeping the pregnancy from him already and she didn’t want to give him any reason to think that she had something to hide. Besides, it wasn’t like he’d actually stay in town long enough to go with her. Or that he’d even want to go. “It’s next Thursday.”
“Uh-huh,” he said as he tapped something else. “What time?”
“Grant, you aren’t actually planning to go to the doctor’s office with me, are you?”
At this, he lifted his eyes to hers again and she could see that the full force of his earlier suspicion had returned. “Of course I’m planning to be there. You didn’t think I’d leave you to go through this alone, did you?”
There was no polite way to answer that question. Frankly, there wasn’t even an honest way of answering without admitting that not only had she been thinking that exact thing, she was hoping for it. Instead, she opted to remind him of the logistics involved. “But don’t you have to be back in Jacksonville for work or...something?”
His fingers flew over his cracked phone screen, typing as he spoke. “Actually, I’m flying to a digital marketing conference in San Francisco tonight after I check in on my aunts. I’ll just change my return flight so I can swing by here on the way home next week.”
Rebekah heard him speaking, but the only word her brain seized on was aunts. A rush of unease shot to her stomach. “You can’t tell your aunts about this.”
“About what?” he asked, his attention seemingly focused fully on the electronic device in his hands and—luckily—not on the beads of sweat breaking out across Rebekah’s forehead. She resisted the urge to grab one of the vet reports off her desk and fan her heated face.
“About me. About us.” Her finger pointed back and forth at each of them, before her hand dropped to her still-flat belly. “And especially not about the baby.”
He lifted his head finally, his eyes zeroing in on her. Not in the suspicious way that she was accustomed to from him, but in a sexy, hungry sort of way. All that tension in her tummy doubled and a sudden warmth spread under her skin.
Lord help her, but even as she faced the very man who now had the power to redirect her entire future, she was still hopelessly attracted to him.
Stiffening her shoulders, Rebekah commanded her body to get itself together. This reaction must be some sort of pregnancy-induced hormonal imbalance.
Not that she was exactly mother material herself, but Grant was the complete opposite of the type of guy she would choose to father her baby. What made things even more unbearable was the way his elderly aunts doted on him and acted as if he’d hung the moon, making his job down in Jacksonville sound like the most important career in the world. In reality, he worked for a tech company that encouraged beach days and flexible hours and spontaneous yoga sessions in their cubicle-free environment. While some might describe him as easygoing and charming, to Rebekah, Grant seemed like one of those men who’d never really grown up. Maybe it was because she’d yet to see him dressed in a shirt with a collar.
Or a shirt that didn’t highlight his strong, broad shoulders.
As she stared at the faded logo on the soft cotton tee stretched across his muscular chest, she ignored the desire curling inside her and wondered for the hundredth time this morning how she’d ended up in this situation with this man, of all people.
Because he was sexy as hell. That’s how.
“Rebekah.” Grant finally rose to his feet before walking over to stand in front of her. When she ducked her head to avoid those piercing eyes, he softly placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face to meet his gaze. “I won’t say a word to anyone until we get the green light from the doctor.”
All she could manage was a slight nod and a slow release of air from her too-tight lungs. She didn’t want to talk about green lights or anything else with him until she had a concrete plan in place.
A plan that most likely wouldn’t involve her spending any more time with Grant Whitaker.
* * *
Standing face-to-face, Grant didn’t immediately remove his hand from the curve of Rebekah’s cheek as he studied her resigned expression.
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her. Despite the fact that he doubted she would’ve told him about the pregnancy quite so soon if she hadn’t nervously knocked over that bag, he did believe she was honest and honorable. But there was something about the woman that always threw him off-balance. Something that she kept locked up tight behind the professional clothes and the detailed financial reports and the organized meeting notes she always passed off to his aunts, who would inadvertently leave the meticulously typed documents behind in the kennel of a sick Labrador or under a pallet of kitty-litter bags. In fact, while he’d been waiting for Rebekah in the parking lot this morning, he’d wandered over to the stables and found one of the llamas eating the cell tower proposal that Rebekah had drafted for a city council meeting.
Rebekah was nothing if not thorough. Which made it difficult for him to believe that she hadn’t already formulated a specific course of action.
Eventually, she took a step back, forcing his hand to drop as she pivoted to rearrange some papers on her desk. Without making eye contact, she began to speak. “Well, I appreciate you stopping by and...you know...”
“Bringing you your keys?” he suggested, not about to let her simply dismiss him without some sort of confirmation that she would be in contact with him soon. “Oh, and for offering my unflagging support at the doctor’s appointment as well as with any decisions that need to be made?”
“Are you hoping for a certain decision, Grant?” Even from this side view, he could see her shoulders square off as though she was preparing for battle. So it was no surprise when she fully faced him with the dimples in her cheeks completely