Unexpectedly Yours(28)

But the drone of the mower lulled her uneasiness, and the thought of  Derek out there warmed her, relaxed her. She could give in a little, as  long as she was careful.



Derek paced around the empty barn. It was well-ventilated and solidly  built, with plenty of space for all his equipment and supplies. The  former owner had run woodworking courses here, so it was perfect for  setting up a carpentry business.

He didn't know why he was so drawn to this property, but after seeing it  the other day, he'd called the broker for a further inspection, and  now, the more he saw it, the more he liked it.

"So, Mr. Carmichael," the broker gushed. "Are you planning to relocate  from L.A.?" She must have noticed his blink of surprise because she  continued, "I watch your show all the time. I'm a huge fan."

"Oh. Thanks. I'm just looking around."

"Of course." The broker nodded enthusiastically. "Well, it's a great  barn, as you can see, and the house is newly renovated. New kitchen, new  bathrooms, and four big bedrooms. It's the perfect home for raising a  family."

A family. Kids. The familiar spasm of panic hit him once more. "Uh, I'm not married," he blurted out.

"Oh, I beg your pardon." The broker looked disconcerted before she  recovered. "Well, it's a wonderful home for a single man, too. Plenty of  space for all your boy toys." She beamed at him.

Boy toys? Was that how she saw him? An overgrown boy? No, that wasn't  him. Sure, he might be nervous about becoming responsible for another  human being, but most dads-to-be felt that, didn't they? That day at the  lake when he and Hannah had talked about kids, it was a hypothetical  discussion. The situation now was totally different.

"I might have kids someday," he said to the broker.

"Oh, then you'll be all set here," she gushed, unrelentingly upbeat.  "You won't regret buying this wonderful home. Why don't I leave you to  wander around and see it all for yourself?"   





 

He was getting ahead of himself. The house might be perfect for  families, but the kind of family he envisioned had a dad and a mom. He  might be on his own.

"That's okay. I've seen enough."

He made his escape, feeling like he'd somehow made a fool of himself.

Back at his granddad's house, he found Otto in the kitchen, trying to clean up a dropped bowl of Cheerios and milk.

"Granddad, stop," Derek called out in alarm as Otto teetered on his  walking stick. His plaster cast was off, but his balance was still  rocky. "I'll do that for you."

Otto grumbled as Derek snatched the rag from him. "I was managing just fine until you barged in."

"No, you weren't. You want to slip and fall and break your other leg?"

"Well if you don't want me doing this, why don't you get that Mrs. Pascoe back?"

Derek huffed as he mopped up the mess. "I spoke to Mrs. Pascoe this  morning. She's willing to come back if you apologize to her."

"Apologize! She was meddling with my food supplies."

Derek picked up the bowl and dumped it in the sink. "Look, I'm not going  to get caught up in who's to blame here." But he'd bet anything it was  Otto's fault. He was impressed by Mrs. Pascoe. The no-nonsense woman  wouldn't take crap from anyone, and that was exactly what his granddad  needed. "Let's face it, Granddad. You need her more than she needs you.  So why don't you suck it up and tell her you're sorry."

That was the wrong thing to say. Otto lowered his bushy gray eyebrows.  "I don't need her." He rubbed his face and suddenly looked tired. "But  I'm sure the woman needs the job, so if she wants, she can come back and  we won't say anything more."

"She wants her apology first."

"Well, that's too bad because it ain't happening."

Derek ground his teeth. Why was Otto so difficult? For a second he  imagined dropping his newsbomb on him. Hey, Granddad, guess what? I'm  going to be a dad. And you're going to be a great-granddad. How 'bout  that?

He didn't know how Otto would respond. Most likely he'd tell Derek what a fool he was.

Sighing, he returned to the mess on the floor.



"Why didn't you call, you dope?" Caleb slapped Derek's shoulder. He  jerked a thumb at Derek's car standing on Otto's driveway. "If I hadn't  seen your Range Rover, I wouldn't have known you were in town."

"Sorry about that," Derek said. "I was going to call." Only, he felt  highly uncomfortable about talking to his friend when Caleb didn't have a  clue about Hannah's condition.

"Whatcha doing?" Caleb had surprised Derek in Otto's garage. He glanced  at the piece of wood in Derek's hands. "Building something there?"

Derek smoothed his palm over the length of English oak he'd found in his  granddad's garage. It was one of Derek's leftovers, and he'd always  liked the texture and smell of this particular wood. He'd been thinking  of a crib when Caleb had interrupted him. A crib for a sweet-cheeked  baby.

"No. Just tidying up." He placed the timber on the workbench. Ever since  Hannah's pregnancy had been confirmed, he'd been veering between panic  and wonder. Mostly panic, but there were moments of wonder, like when he  imagined crafting the crib with his own hands and presenting it to  Hannah.

He looked at his oldest friend, and the urge to blurt out the truth was  so strong, but he'd promised Hannah he wouldn't say anything without her  permission.

"Come over to my folks' place for dinner tonight," Caleb said. "Hannah's coming. She'd be glad to see you."

I seriously doubt that. The idea of sitting through a Willmett dinner and pretending nothing had happened was torture.

"Sorry, I can't tonight."

Caleb frowned. "Well, when are we going to catch up? Are you rushing back to L.A. soon?"

"Uh, yeah." He only had a week off, but the longer he stayed, the more he didn't want to leave.

"I saw you and Marla Beaudry on ScoopNews again."

Derek couldn't help scowling. "It's not what you think."

An awkward pause developed. Caleb scratched his knuckles. "I'm not judging you, man."

But he would as soon as he learned that Hannah was pregnant and Derek  was the father. Hell, why had he even tried to help Marla? If he'd  refused, he wouldn't have made the headlines, and Caleb wouldn't be  assuming he was just the same old player he used to be.   





 

"I'd better get going." Caleb backed away.

Derek was conscious of a slight coolness between them, but there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

"I'll call you," he said.

But when he did call, would Caleb be willing to listen?





Chapter Fifteen

An acrid taste soured the back of Hannah's mouth. Her hands were balled  into fists on the tablecloth, her legs wound tight around the chair legs  for support. She'd delivered her news near the end of dinner, and now a  shocked silence had descended on the table while three pairs of eyes  gazed at her with three different expressions. From her father,  disbelief. From Rosalind, dismay. And from Caleb, anger that pulsed like  a star about to explode.

"Who is it?" Caleb ground out between clenched teeth.

"I prefer not to say." Hannah gripped the edge of her chair.

"What?" He smacked the tablecloth. "You're not going to tell us who's responsible for knocking you up?"

"Caleb!" Frank barked out. "Keep your tongue civil."

Caleb shook his head wildly. "Sorry, Dad, but this is too much." He  sucked in a few deep breaths, looking like he was about to  hyperventilate.

"I guess this explains that condom Rosalind found in the couch." Frank  turned disappointed eyes toward Hannah, making her cringe inwardly. To  her dad she'd always been the good girl who never put a foot wrong, but  now that she'd fallen so far from the pedestal, she realized how much  being her father's golden daughter had meant to her. "Maybe if you'd  used it, you wouldn't be in this mess."

"I'm not that irresponsible. I did use protection, but clearly it wasn't  100 percent foolproof." Hurt and embarrassment flushed her cheeks. "I  know I've shocked you all, and believe me, this is hardly the way I'd  choose to bring a child into this world. But I can't change the facts.  I'm pregnant. I'm going to have a baby, and I'm going to be a single  mom. That's-that's all there is to it."

"But that's not all." A deep frown weighed on Frank's brow as he pressed  his hands on the table. "Why won't you tell us who he is?"

"I-I will tell you later." She didn't have the courage to tell them it  was Derek. Not yet. One shock at a time was more than enough.

"Does he know about the baby?"

"Yes."

"Then why isn't he stepping up to the plate and marrying you? Doesn't he want to provide for you? Give this baby a name?"

Heavens, she'd never realized how old-fashioned her dad could be. Or  maybe it was just his way of showing he cared. Either way, his attitude  didn't make her feel any better. It reduced her, robbed her of her  self-determination.