Chapter 2 #2
He had stared at her in mute dismay. "You want me to choose between you and my mother? She's my mother, dammit!"
"I don't want you to choose. I want you to be a man and acknowledge what's right in front of your eyes.
I'm not good at competing. I happen to be a lousy loser, and that's what's happening here.
I'm losing. She's been your mother for all your life.
You just met me. This was a mistake and it's best we found that out before it's too late. "
Dragging his fingers through his wet hair, he surged off the sofa and stalked into the bathroom.
She had just stumbled out of the bathroom after a particularly horrible vomiting fit when she heard the vehicle crunching on the loose stones.
She did not have to look out the window to ascertain who it was.
She had expected him to come as soon as he heard she was in town.
Knowing what she did about this town, she knew he would have been informed.
Nothing happened here without him or his mother being privy to it.
But how she wished she was better prepared!
How she wished she had been given a reprieve at least for one damned night.
Now she would be facing him, feeling as weak as a kitten and completely vulnerable.
The pregnancy was kicking her up and down and sideways.
She had decided to be adventurous and had tried a chicken sandwich she had picked up on her way, and it had turned against her.
Besides, she wasn't looking her best. Her hair was pinned haphazardly on top of her head, and she was still moist from the sweat that had poured from her face while her head had been bent over the commode. She wasn't looking forward to a fight with him, which was inevitable.
Closing her eyes briefly, she tightened the sash of the robe around her narrow waist and went to get the door.
Taking her time, she slid the lock open and pulled it open.
She thought she had been prepared for seeing him again, but not for the sudden slamming of her heart against her ribs.
He was without his hat, which was usually part of his ensemble, and his dark wavy curls were rioting around his face and shoulders.
His long, lean frame was shown to perfection in faded denims and a striped cotton shirt open at the neck.
His brows quirked mockingly, green eyes sweeping over her face and chest. "Well? Are you going to invite me in?"
Without a word, she stepped back to let him in.
Shutting the door, she leaned against it and watched as he sauntered as if he owned the damned place and went into the living room, waiting for her to follow him.
Squaring her shoulders, she made her way into the living room and sat down on one of the comfortable sofas, curling her legs under her.
He stood by the mantel, one arm draped over the cold marble as he studied her. She looked like a little girl with her face scrubbed clean of makeup and tendrils of hair drifting down her cheeks.
"This is an unexpected surprise," he drawled, his deep voice fluttering her nerves.
"Well, yes." She took a deep breath. "I was planning on calling you tomorrow, after I settled."
His brow quirked at that. "Were you?"
The skepticism in his voice had her bristling. "Yes," she snapped.
"Forgive me if I find that very difficult to believe. You had not exactly left on the best of terms. And if memory serves, you said goodbye or kiss your ass, something like that." His face hardened. "Why the hell are you back?"
It was going to be much harder than she expected, and she was going to have to hang onto her temper until she got the news out.
"I know we left things up in the air-" she began when he cut her off coldly.
"No. You made it very clear that you wanted out."
"Well-" she pleated the lapels of her robe and avoided his eyes. "I had no choice."
"What the hell is this, Julianne? What are you playing at?"
"Will you stop shouting?"
His anger turned into concern when she lifted a hand and rubbed her temple.
"What is it?"
"Nothing."
"Julianne." His implacable tone had her wincing.
She tried one last time to prevaricate. "That horse, what was her name again? The one with the bad limp. Were you able to-"
"We had to put her down."
"Oh." The news momentarily had her thinking of the feisty mare she had the pleasure of riding several times. "She was a beautiful horse."
"She was," he averred gruffly. "Is there anything else you want to know? About the cattle and the new greenhouse we had installed a month ago to grow organic fruits. I'm at your service."
Even though he was mocking her, she jumped at the chance to put off telling him her news. "I read something about that in one of the agricultural magazines. It seems you've managed quite a coup with-"
"Stop it! No more evasions. Now I want to know why you're here."
"Okay, fine," she huffed. "I have my career to think about, so you can just imagine that this is not something I wanted to happen."
He straightened from his post, eyes fixed on her as his heart started to hammer.
"What are you saying?" he asked hoarsely.
"I'm pregnant," she blurted out baldly. "And before you make a foolish and inflammatory comment, wondering if it's yours, think carefully. I haven't been with anyone else since I left while you've moved on-"
"Stop talking." His eyes glittered dangerously as he approached her. "You bloody well left me, did you not?" He stopped in front of her and knelt down, a look of wonder on his handsome face. "How far along?"
"Two months."
He started to reach for her hand, frowning when she pulled away.
"I didn't want this."
The burst of happiness he was feeling died a slow death.
"What the hell are you saying?" he asked angrily.
She shrugged and looked over his left shoulder to avoid looking at him. "I have my career-"
"Is that all you can bloody well think about? Your frigging career? This is a life-changing moment-"
"For me!" she blazed at him, eyes flashing.
"I'm the one who will be carrying this baby inside me for nine months.
It's my body that will be going through all the changes.
Not yours, so don't sit there and tell me about life-changing moments.
You're a man and have no clue what a woman goes through to bring a child into the world. "
"And yes, my career means a lot to me. I worked damn hard to get where I am and now this-" she slapped a hand on her flat stomach. "This is going to change everything."
Rising lithely, he stood there towering over her, a frown etching his brow. "What exactly are you saying?"
"I'm not staying here."
"Then why the bloody hell did you come!"
"I won't have you shouting at me-"
"I will do as I damn well please!" he blazed.
She watched as he turned on his heel and strode to stand at the window.
That was always the case with them. He was half Irish and had inherited the temper from that side of the family.
She was never one to sit by and allow people to walk all over her.
They had butted heads from the very moment they met and it had continued up until the time she left.
Volatile didn't even begin to describe their relationship. Shoving his hands, palms out, into his back pockets, he hunched his shoulders and stared out at the gathering dusk.
"I want to be involved in my child's life," he said tonelessly, without turning around. "I don't know what kind of a father I'll be, considering the example I had, but I will bloody well try to be a good father." He turned around. "I want the chance to be there for you."
"I cannot stay here, you know that."
"If you don't want to stay at the ranch, I can arrange a suitable lodging for you. We have some townhouses-"
"I'm going back in a week's time." She lifted her shoulders in a shrug, refusing to feel guilty at the look on his face. "I have some clients-"
"And that means more to you than the life you're carrying? How selfish can you be?"
"Selfish? I didn't have to take the trip all the way here to tell you. I could have kept it from you."
"Why did you, then?" he asked harshly, fed up and frustrated with her constant refusal to see things his way.
"Because it's the right thing to do. Because you deserve to know. Look-" she lifted her hands in an unconscious appealing gesture. "I don't know what I'm doing here. We're talking about a baby, another human being in the mix when we're no longer together. You're involved with someone-"
"That's not important," he said brusquely.
She lifted tapered brows as she stared at him. "That wasn't what it looked like in the magazines. You two seemed very cozy."
"Jealous, sweetheart?" he jeered.
"Don't flatter yourself." She pushed herself out of the chair and distinctly felt when her stomach heaved and pitched. "Oh God!"
He started after her in alarm as she flew past him.
He stood there listening for a second as she retched violently, his alarm escalating into fear.
Shoving the door open, he hunkered down behind her, automatically gripping her hair that had come undone to keep it out of her face.
When she was finished, she leaned back against him weakly, the sheen of moisture covering her face.
Without a word, he picked her up and carried her to the sink so that she could rinse out her mouth.
"Put me down," she demanded weakly.
"Shut the hell up," he said without rancor as he carried her to the bedroom. Instead of putting her to bed, he sat with her cradled on his lap.
"How often does that happen?" he asked quietly.
"Once or twice a day." She closed her eyes wearily.
"I can make some tea."
She shook her head, her cheek rubbing against the soft cotton of his shirt.
"And I'm staying the night."
"No, that's not-"
"That wasn't a request," he told her mildly. Placing her against the pillows, he drew the sheets around her and rose.
Stopping when he reached the doorway, his gaze flickered over her face while something moved inside him. He was going to do his utmost to get her to stay, no matter what.