The Plan (The Hillers of Barratt County #4)

Chapter 5

5

Oh, he looked good .

Ronnie had always loved it when he had his suit coat off and his shirtsleeves rolled up. The tie hung around his neck and his honey-colored hair stuck up all over his head. He did that sometimes, when he was stressed. He wore his reading glasses. Sometimes he forgot to take them off. She loved it when he wore his glasses.

His chest was hard and sculpted from years of ranch work. He looked just as good without his clothes as he did with them. Her cheeks flamed at that stray thought.

“Veronica, why are you here?”

There was no welcome in his tone. That had her hesitating. Her stomach rolled, something it had been doing for a month—which had prompted that fateful test in the first place—and reminded her of what was at stake here.

She was pregnant, unemployed, broke, and alone. That was what was at stake here. And this man held control over her world for the moment.

It was probably best to get this over with. So that she could make the kind of plans she needed to make. She’d walked to the drug store, bought three more tests, and took them all.

And confirmed it. Pink lines, blue lines, tiny letters spelling it all out. It was real.

The baby was real. And changed everything.

Ronnie was terrified she was going to find herself living with her parents again. At least temporarily. Talk about scary. “We need to talk.”

“About what? I mailed your last check.”

“Yeah, that’s not it.” She stepped into the office, and slipped off her rain coat. She dropped it to the waiting room couch. “Better sit down, Georgie…”

She heard his growl at the nickname he hated. She’d taken to using it only when he got on her last nerve, with his ridiculous sense of arrogance, about six weeks into her tenure with his little firm.

Yes, he was a brilliant man. But did he have to act like that made him more special than the rest of the world? If he also wasn’t one of the nicest, softest-hearted, most loyal men she knew—she wouldn’t have liked him at all. She definitely wouldn’t have taken her clothes off with the man. That was rather a given.

“Veronica, what’s going on? I have plans for tonight.”

“A date? Lucky you. Well, she’s going to have to wait this time.”

She was such a sarcastic little brat sometimes. It had both driven him mad and made him want to kiss the sass right out of her more times than he could count. George ran his gaze over her, just drinking the sight of her in. The office seemed brighter, more alive with her there. She wore jeans that showed a perfect female body. And the thin little pink t-shirt was the clinging kind. It clung to beautiful curves that he wanted to touch. His palms practically itched to touch her. “Can I get you something to drink? I put a new mini-fridge in the back room.”

She’d reminded him to do that for weeks, and he’d just not bothered. Just like he’d replaced her desk chair with one that was more comfortable after his sister had complained. His guilt had lasted for a whole damned week. He should have treated Veronica better—and not just the having sex with her thing. He had taken advantage of her—and Giavonna had had to point that out every chance she had.

His own sister thought Veronica was far too good for him. To even work for him. Giavonna didn’t know what had prompted Veronica to quit, either. His sister would flay him alive if she ever learned. She’d asked time and time again when she’d been helping him out at the office, but…he wasn’t ready to talk about Veronica just yet. Just not yet.

“A water will be fine.” Veronica just stared at him, her arms crossing under her breasts.

Veronica blinked at him. Wet her lips. She didn’t look away. George knew something had happened. Or she wouldn’t have come back to him at all. “Tell me.”

“Probably best to just rip off the band-aid. Here’s the deal. Things have changed.”

“What do you mean?” She could have her job back. All she had to do was ask. He was a better attorney when he had her. He’d also like to think he was a better man with her acting as his conscience right there in his office forty-five hours a week. Plus overtime. To his shame.

George had realized after she’d quit that he’d kept her late three or four nights a week because he’d wanted to spend those hours with her. Even if it was only the two of them working.

He’d always order dinner for the two of them from the nearby diner. He’d pull the window blinds down and close them to keep people traveling down Main Street from seeing they were in there together. And they would work. Talk. Though she didn’t open up much at all.

He had treasured those nights. Missed them now, more than anything. Just being with Veronica. That had become more than clear over the last three months and four days. He had been an idiot to have missed that. “Veronica?”

She closed her eyes and pulled in a deep breath. Her eyes, an interesting shade between blue and gray, met his. “Okay, Georgiano, here it is. I’m pregnant. Since I’ve only slept with one man in my life—you, by the way, in case you’re in doubt—I’m pretty certain that unless aliens are responsible for some strange experimental purposes—which is possible, actually, considering some of the weirdos in my immediate family—you’re going to be a father. I need to know what you want to do about it on your side of things, before I start making my plans.”

George just stared at her like she had completely gone off the deep end.

Was this for real?