“No,” she said waving him off with an annoyed glance. “She’s very thoughtful. And observant. When I said generous, I meant with her time and her thoughts and feelings.”
“She is, isn’t she? I hoped she wouldn’t overwhelm you. I know you like to be on your own.”
Darcy shook her head, picking up the fork again and scraping at frosting left on her plate. Accumulating the smallest glob before bringing it to her mouth.
“We’ve struck a pretty good balance. We go for a walk each morning, sometimes just around the yard if my stomach is sketchy. We talk about interests and goals. And if ever I’m feeling embarrassed or something from having to rush away for my stomach, she always has some fantastic story about you to make me feel better.”
Jeff’s brow shot up, his ego taking a stretch and pulling him forward to hear more. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, like the time you got into the caterer’s stash of dessert toppers and then got sick in the pool.”
He slumped back. “No.”
Not exactly the tales of heroism and maternal adoration he’d been banking on.
Darcy pointed the freshly cleaned tines at him. “Yeah. Her thinking is, it’s only fair you share in the humiliation once in a while, too.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask, but how often are you still getting sick.”
There was a wicked glint in Darcy’s eyes as she answered. “Often.”
Jeff reached across the table and took her hand in his. “Then I can say with the utmost sincerity, I hope you get past this soon.”
She looked him up and down and then closed her eyes, laughing. “I’ll bet you do.”
* * *
She was so glad he’d come. Glad to the point where there was no choice but to acknowledge Jeff’s little baby had been working her over good with the hormones.
Twice she’d felt the inexplicable push of tears at the back of her eyes. The first, when she realized halfway through her third slice of cake she was too full to eat any more, and the second when, at her request, Jeff had pulled his favorite trophy down and told her he had absolutely no idea why he favored it, and then after a shrug, stuck it back on the shelf.
Yes, the hormones were having their way with her for sure. Which was reassuring in that it gave her something to blame for other inexplicable reactions. Like every time she got within breathing distance of Jeff. All it took was the barest hint of his clean masculine scent and everything within her started to whir. He smelled better than box mix, but thankfully she’d exercised more restraint with the man than she had with the butter recipe.
As a result they’d been talking comfortably on the back terrace by the pool for more than an hour, Jeff answering whatever questions he could for her. Occasionally asking one himself—though in truth, Darcy didn’t have very much to share about her own youth. If he asked whether she’d participated in some traditional all-American kind of activity, the answer was typically no. The explanation always the same. They hadn’t had the money for team sports, camps or after school programs. Of course there had been more to it, but Jeff didn’t need to know about those details. All that mattered was their child’s life would be more like his than hers. This baby would be happy, loved and wanted.
They’d hit on the topic of school a few moments ago, and now Jeff leaned back in the terrace chair that looked more like it belonged in a showroom than outside by the pool. His long legs were extended out in front of him, his ankles crossed, hands folded behind his head as he stared up into the night sky.