Waking Up Pregnant(36)

                One question after another, and they kept circling back to Jeff.

                How often would she see him? What would he do if they disagreed?

                What kind of father would he be? She thought about the trophies and ribbons, and how nothing short of first place earned a spot on his wall of fame. Would he be as successful in parenting as he was in what appeared to be every other area of his life? Would he go it alone or hire in help? Marry in help?

                Not the woman he’d been dating when she first came to him. Gail had mentioned they’d broken the relationship off already. But a man like Jeff—she closed her eyes trying to stop her train of thought, but already her mind had found the deep rumble of his laugh, the heavy cut of his jaw and the feel of his untamed hair between her fingers.

                The weight of his body over hers.

                The heat of his kiss.

                Her eyes popped open. Because closed, well, obviously that wasn’t helping. And as tempting as it was to recall their night together in exacting, vivid detail—it was a mistake. When she thought about Jeff now, it should be in the context of his role as co-parent to their child. Nothing else.

                Which was fine. She was realistic enough to understand the enormity of the gulf between their worlds. She was okay with it.

                Like she’d be okay when Jeff found the next woman to get serious about. Mostly. Though even as she thought it, some little piece of her rejected the idea of him with another woman. Not because she wanted him for herself.

                No.

                Just because...well...well...an irritated growl left her throat. It didn’t matter why and she didn’t need to justify anything.

                What was wrong with her today?

                Turning to happier thoughts, she tried to imagine Jeff’s youth, wondering whether he would describe himself the same way his mother had? What he thought life would be like for their child—if he’d want to do things the way his parents had done with him, or if he’d like to see things happen differently for his own son or daughter.

                She glanced at the phone and, experiencing a pull even greater than the one outside Jeff’s room, wondered if they talked, if he’d make her laugh again, the way no one else seemed capable of doing.

                * * *

                Jeff met Charlie’s knowing eyes across the table where the two of them had set up for the call in his office. It was time for a break.

                “Why don’t we take thirty so everyone can grab a bite,” Jeff suggested, pushing back from the table himself. “And we’ll pick up here when we get back.”

                Charlie went to grab a few files from his desk and Jeff was left in the quiet of his office alone. Shoulder propped at his favorite window, he was scrolling through his messages, rereading the one line updates from his mom when the little black-and-white, fifteen-week ultrasound image popped up on his screen signaling a call from the very woman all his extra hours at work were supposed to keep him from thinking about—but weren’t.

                “Hi, Jeff. I hope I’m not interrupting.”

                “Not at all. What’s going on?” He closed his eyes. “Everything okay with the baby?”

                His baby. Their baby.

                The little troublemaker wreaking havoc on his mother’s system and scaring the living hell out Jeff with the fragility of his existence alone.