Waiting for You(53)

But if she did that, she’d regret it. She’d fall into her pathetic fantasy world again, and mistake his sense of responsibility for something deeper. And she wouldn’t do that to herself again. She wouldn’t waste time hoping desperately for a love that Jake was never going to feel for her.

When she didn’t say anything, Jake went on. “Haven’t you seen Rick and Allison together? Are you telling me he doesn’t give her special treatment?”

He couldn’t have picked a worse example. It was a reminder of exactly the kind of love she wanted and would never have.

“Yes, I’ve seen them together,” she snapped. “But our situation is completely different from theirs. You and I are—”

“If that’s what’s bothering you, don’t worry. Of course I’m going to marry you.”

He said it confidently, reassuringly, like a mechanic telling her, Of course I can fix your transmission. She stared at him for a minute, and then she covered her face with her hands. “And here it is,” she muttered. “Right on schedule.”

“What’s right on schedule?”

She let her hands drop to her sides. “Your pity proposal. Do you really think that’s what I want? That’s the last thing I want.”

He frowned. “You’re saying you don’t want to get married?”

She sighed. “Yes, Jake, that’s what I’m saying. I don’t want a shotgun wedding. I don’t want any kind of wedding. I don’t want us to pretend to be something we’re not. Okay?”

His eyebrows drew close together and his eyes glinted, a clear indication that he was about to argue with her. She braced herself, but then his forehead smoothed out again. “We don’t have to decide right now,” he said.

She scowled and started to tell him that it was already decided, thank you very much, but she was distracted by a familiar flutter of movement, like popcorn popping. She pressed a hand to her stomach.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Jake was frowning in concern.

“Yes, I’m fine. The baby’s kicking.”

Jake’s eyes flashed to her stomach, and then back up at her. “Could I…?”

She swallowed. As much as she had wished over the past few months that she had someone to share this experience with, now that Jake was looking at her like that, she wasn’t sure she was ready.

But she couldn’t say no—not when Jake had that eager look in his eyes. So she nodded, and he drew his chair closer, waiting for her to guide him. She took his wrist and placed his hand on her belly, over the spot she’d last felt the movement.

She was wearing a thick cotton sweatshirt, but the way her body reacted to his touch, she might as well be naked. A little thrill coursed through her, and she was reminded of one of the more inconvenient side-effects of pregnancy.

At a time in her life when she’d never felt more unattractive, she’d also never felt so lustful…and that was even before the sexiest man she’d ever known—who also happened to be the father of her baby—had come back into her life. Now, as she watched Jake staring at her stomach with a rapt, expectant look on his face, she found herself replaying the night that had led to this.

She felt another kick, this one even stronger.

“Oh, wow,” he whispered.

“You felt it?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I didn’t realize…” He shook his head, as if giving up the effort to put his thoughts into words.

He looked up at her, his hand still on her body. She held her breath.

Then he pulled away abruptly and went back to his seat.

“Thanks,” he said, pouring himself another cup of coffee. “That was really something.”

She nodded, trying not to miss the sensation of Jake’s strong, protective hand pressed against her. “I know what you mean. It makes it all real, doesn’t it? The day I felt my first kick was the day I went out and started buying things for the nursery.”

He frowned. “I wish I’d been here to help with that. You weren’t moving furniture or anything, were you?”

She shook her head. “The store delivered everything and the guys carried it upstairs. They even put the crib together for me.”

She saw the hurt in his eyes, and as clearly as if he’d said it out loud, she knew he was thinking that putting the crib together was a father’s job.

It was one more thing he’d missed out on, because of her. She felt a wave of guilt. “Do you want to see it?” she asked quickly.

“The nursery? Yeah, of course.”

A few minutes later she was opening the door to the little room upstairs, and Jake crossed the threshold. As she watched him look around at everything, at the soft rose color she’d painted the walls and the lace curtains she’d hung at the windows, it occurred to her that she hadn’t actually mentioned the—