Chapter 6
six
Cordy had never dreamed the awful situation staring her straight in the face could happen.
Jaycee and Gareth stared back at her, and Cordy swore she saw the wheels turning in Jaycee’s head. Gossipy, scandalized wheels.
Everyone else in her other classes had been strangers—after all, Fordsville was two hours away, and the hospital served three separate counties, so what were the odds?
Getting caught here with Chance Kessal was the worst thing that could have happened. With his reputation, Jaycee must think all kinds of things, none of them good.
This was going to get back to the Saxons. Cordy went stiff with fear. How much worse would they hate her if they believed she was moving on from Reed with Chance ?
The postcard from Estonia flashed through her head. She could be there right now, with no one knowing who she was or judging her. She’d have Iggy, who was all she really needed.
Then the baby kicked, reminding Cordy her old way of life wasn’t an option anymore. She’d promised Reed to stay until the baby was born, and she wasn’t going back on it.
Chance clasped her elbow. “We’ve got to bluff our way through this. Tell them we’re friends, and I’m helping you out. The name thing is a joke.”
Cordy was still tempted to turn around and leave. Nothing about this pregnancy had been easy, not a single thing.
This was supposed to be a magical time, with her and Reed preparing together to welcome their child. Instead, Cordy felt like she was fighting for her life every single day.
“We can do this,” Chance said. “We have to do this.”
He was right, at least about them having to do it. Cordy needed this class. It was the very last one, and honestly, she was more than a little terrified of giving birth. Mom had never talked about Cordy’s birth, and some of the stories she’d read online had been…
Cordy shuddered. This class would tell her everything she needed to know to get through labor. And she needed Chance to get through this class.
So she put on her customer-service smile and walked over to Jaycee and Gareth.
“I didn’t think we’d know anyone here.” Cordy made it sound like this was the best thing ever. “So glad to see you guys.”
“Yeah.” Jaycee’s eyes were wide. “I never expected you would be here.” She looked right at Chance as she said it. “Jack Smith? Why is that on your name tag?”
“Private joke.” Chance pulled out a chair for Cordy. “Good to see you.”
“I didn’t even know you were… friends,” Gareth said.
“Of course we are,” Cordy said.
“Everyone knows the Swing Inn is my favorite place,” Chance said. “And Cordy is my favorite bartender.”
Jaycee’s eyes narrowed. She looked between Cordy and Chance. “Are you two…?” She shook her head like she couldn’t even believe she was asking.
“I’m here doing a favor for a friend,” Chance said. “That’s all.”
Gareth laughed. There was a sharp edge to it. “I’m surprised you haven’t had to take this class before,” he said to Chance. “Or maybe you did.”
Chance smiled, but Cordy didn’t find it very funny.
How did Chance know Jaycee and Gareth? Everyone knows everyone here was what Chance had said. The couple seemed too young to have been in school with Chance, but maybe he knew their siblings or cousins, or they’d done some after-school thing together. Cordy couldn’t even imagine because she’d never in her life run into someone from her childhood.
“They won’t let you take the class without a partner,” Cordy explained. “And, well…” She spread her hands.
“I’m so sorry about Reed.” Jaycee sounded like she meant it. “It was so awful. How are you doing?”
“I’m doing good.” Cordy put her hands on her belly, needing the reassurance of her bump. “How are you? You’re, what, six weeks away from your due date?”
Jaycee nodded excitedly. “It’s hard to believe it’s so close! We had the baby shower last weekend.”
Cordy’s breath caught. She wasn’t having a baby shower, not that her mom would have been interested in throwing one even if she was in the country. A shower hadn’t crossed her mind—too many other things were clamoring for her attention.
“How fun,” Cordy said. “Did you play any games? Like the baby food one?”
“I won that one,” Gareth bragged.
“The baby food game?” Chance looked more than a little horrified. “You ate that stuff?”
“Yeah.” Jaycee laughed. “You feed it to babies, so why can’t adults eat it?”
“Because it looks like…” Chance swallowed the rest of what he’d been about to say, which had probably been about baby food’s resemblance to animal poop. Seemed Ms. Reston’s warning had worked. “I wouldn’t.”
“I guess you guys aren’t having that at your shower.” Jaycee’s mouth dropped open when she realized what she’d said. “Oh. I mean, I guess… You aren’t having a shower together. Obviously.”
“No,” Chance said blandly. “We’re not showering together.”
Cordy resisted the urge to kick him under the table.
“How did the baby food taste?” she asked Gareth.
“Awful.” He pulled a face. “I can’t believe babies eat that.”
They all laughed, and the awkward moment was over, thank God.
“Have you finished decorating the nursery?” Jaycee asked.
“Um.” Cordy thought of the crib still in the box and the painted panel screen separating her bed from the rest of her studio apartment. There was no nursery for her to decorate.
Her stomach swooped. Did she need a nursery? Wasn’t a crib enough? Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe she really did need an entirely separate room. Cordy was sure she’d never had a nursery as a baby, but it wasn’t like she could ask her mom. How the hell was she going to put a nursery in her apartment, anyway?
“Not yet,” Chance said easily. “Can’t quite decide on a color.” He flashed a grin. “I had to hear all about it on the way over.”
Cordy realized her face was cold, and her pulse was racing. She was halfway to a panic attack here. But Chance had stepped in. He’d lied—again—to save them.
“Right,” she said. “It feels like such an important choice, you know?”
“Oh, I do.” Jaycee leaned in. “We want something she’ll like once she grows up, but how can you pick a color for someone you haven’t even met yet? Do you know what you’re having?”
“I wanted to be surprised.” Cordy lifted a shoulder. “The old-fashioned way.”
Chance’s gaze locked with hers. “The old-fashioned way, huh?”
Sensation flared through her, making her skin feel too tight. He was simply repeating what she’d said, but he put that spin on it the way only he could.
When the ultrasound tech had asked Cordy if she wanted to know the sex, Cordy had frozen. She’d had an answer ready beforehand—yes, she wanted to know—but at that moment, she couldn’t say anything.
Reed isn’t here, was what she thought. He’ll never be here. He’ll never know what we’re having. What their name will be. Their first step, word, all of it. He’s missing it.
She told the tech she didn’t want to know. It was a small thing, but it made her feel closer to Reed. He couldn’t know, so Cordy would choose not to know until the time came.
“Everything okay?” Jaycee asked. “You look a little sad.”
Cordy made herself smile. “It’s just pregnancy brain.”
“Oh, I know.” Jaycee fluttered her hands in sympathy. “I’ll be walking into the kitchen for something, and halfway there, I’ll forget what I was going to get. I just stand there trying to remember. So silly.”
Gareth looked at her fondly. “It’s cute. You’re doing hard work, growing a whole human.” He set his hand on Jaycee’s belly. “So yeah, you’re going to forget things.”
The moment between them was so tender, Cordy’s throat clogged. She had to look away before she embarrassed herself. Instead, she put her own hand to her belly. Maybe she didn’t have a partner like Gareth, but she’d love this baby fiercely no matter what.
Behind her, she felt Chance’s arm twitch on the back of her chair. He’d slung it over there when they’d sat down, casual-like but tantalizingly close to her.
“You don’t have pregnancy brain,” Chance said to Cordy. “You’re on top of everything.”
Chance knew how much she had to be on top of. It made her want to cry all over again.
“I try,” she said.
Then Ms. Reston clapped her hands for their attention, and the class was on. It was a full two hours of information, with Ms. Reston going full speed. Cordy was either taking down notes as fast as she could or practicing with the doll and pelvic bones Ms. Reston passed around. Chance, to his credit, never once talked about calving.
He was actually the perfect partner. He handed her a new pen when hers died, held the fake baby while she got the fake umbilical cord sorted out, and kept his arm slung over the back of her chair when he wasn’t helping her.
That simple gesture touched her the most, a reminder that he literally had her back.
When Ms. Reston called an end to the session, Cordy flopped back into her chair, exhausted. She managed to pinch Chance’s fingers between her back and the seat.
“Sorry,” she said quickly.
Instead of pulling his hand back, he moved his fingers in what could have been a caress. Her breath came in a rush.
“You okay?” he asked in a quiet rumble. “You look tired.”
“My hand hurts.” Cordy made herself sit up and away from his hand. She smiled at Jaycee and Gareth. “We’ll see you on Thursday then.”
“Oh, we’ll probably see each other before that in town,” Jaycee said. “I’m glad you guys are here in the class.”
The other girl sounded so sincere it touched Cordy’s heart. And made her very aware of how alone she felt most of the time. For a moment, she wanted to ask if Jaycee ever sat in the Parents’ Corner at the Donut Palace. Or if Jaycee might want to meet Cordy there.
But something held Cordy back. So all she said was, “Me too.”
Jaycee gave her a quick wave before looking Chance up and down, as if she still couldn’t believe he was there. “Later.”
Gareth nodded to them both, then helped his wife out the door.
Cordy waited until they were in the hall and far away from anyone else before she said, “My God, that was close. How did they end up in this class?”
“You’re not used to small-town life. You run into everyone everywhere. I should have guessed someone would be here.”
“Do you think they bought our story?”
Chance shrugged. “Probably. Jaycee will tell everyone how weird it was I came with you, but I doubt it will go any further. No one’s going to assume I’m the father or anything.”
Cordy shuddered. That was a horror she didn’t want to contemplate, so she changed the subject. “You grew up with them, didn’t you?”
“I grew up with everyone my age in town. It’s not that unique. The school’s practically one room.” He held open the main door for her, and Cordy realized he’d grabbed her stuff without her noticing. “Where did you grow up?”
Cordy huffed out a laugh. “Everywhere. Nowhere.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It’s a long story.” She lovingly cupped her bump as they walked to the parking lot. The night was surprisingly warm. “I was an accident, just like this one. My parents were never really together, and they never wanted to be.”
“You’re not an accident,” Chance said. “You were a surprise. Same as this baby. Go on.”
“My parents were— are —footloose. They can’t stay in one place for very long. I spent my childhood getting bounced from one to the other, going from country to country. I was born in France because my mother hadn’t visited it yet. My dad wasn’t even there when I was born. I went to live with him at two years old—he was in India. After a year, I went back to Mom. And then Dad, then Mom… you get the idea. I lost my first tooth in Mali. I started school in Peru. I got my first kiss in New Zealand.”
Chance was slowly looking more and more horrified. “You just up and moved all the time?”
“Yeah. I’ve seen so much of the world and met so many amazing people; it was worth it. I loved my childhood. If it weren’t for this one”—she rubbed her belly—“I’d have already moved on. After about a year in one place, I’m ready to start my next adventure. But when Reed died, I swore I’d have the baby in Star Crossed Springs since it meant so much to him.”
“Wow.” Chance opened her car door for her. “My mind is kind of blown by that; I’m not going to lie. Are you going to leave once the baby’s older?”
Cordy slid into the seat. “I don’t know. I want my baby to know their grandparents, and I don’t want to move quite as often or as far as my parents did… but I also don’t want to be tied down.” She laughed at herself. “Although I guess it’s too late for that.”
“I didn’t know you wanted to leave.” His expression was solemn. Maybe even troubled.
Which was strange for a guy who was the definition of easy come, easy go . Chance wouldn’t miss her for long, even if Cordy was his favorite bartender.
She silently sighed as she looked up at him. “So.”
“So.” Chance braced a forearm against the door frame. “Am I hired?”
“Sam did warn me to watch out for weirdos answering my ad,” she said.
“I’m just trying to help you out,” Chance said. “No weirdo shit, I promise.”
Cordy considered that. Now that he’d shown up once, she could simply pretend he couldn’t make it to the rest. She shouldn’t get used to him being around.
But it had been nice to have him here. They worked well together. Things felt less stressful when Chance was around, and God knew Cordy had more than enough stress in her life.
The image of Gareth’s hand on Jaycee’s belly, tenderly cupping her and their child, rose in her mind. The couple had looked so in love. And Gareth looked like he would do anything for Jaycee.
Cordy wouldn’t have had that with Reed—Reed no doubt would have loved the baby, but he wasn’t in love with her .
Her heart creaked and cracked under the realization. The emotion that bound Jaycee, Gareth, and their baby? Cordy wouldn’t have with anyone.
“You can say no.” Chance’s quiet words pulled her back into the moment. “I promise, this time I’ll listen. They’ll believe you if you tell them I can’t make it.”
She looked into his eyes and, for the first time, saw kindness there. Laughter, heat, even a bit of temper, she’d seen all those emotions there before. But never this bone-deep concern.
Tomcat, her brain supplied. But even a wildcat could come inside for a time.
She could have Chance as her partner for these few classes. She could have that much of a break.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, you’re hired.”
His smile came on slow, but that only made it all the more devastating. The lines on his face were carved deep—probably because Chance smiled so much—and when they all lit up at once, they made his already handsome face even more compelling.
An itch built up inside her, hot and needy. She wanted to touch him, to set her hands on either side of that grin and kiss it up. She wanted what he gave every other woman in this town so easily.
That made her sit back and keep her hands firmly by her side. Cordy knew she could only rely on herself in the end. Kissing the town tomcat would be the worst idea.
“Great,” he said. “We never did discuss my salary.”
Cordy had put a fair wage on the flyer, but she sensed Chance wasn’t talking about that. Not with that heated glint in his eye.
The man couldn’t stop flirting. It was too deep in his blood. So deep he’d even do it with her when she was nine months’ pregnant with another man’s child.
The notion that it was only a reflex made her heart sag. “I put my price on the flyer,” she said. “You want me to write you a check?”
Chance wasn’t put off by her tone. “I was thinking we could negotiate some.”
For a moment, she considered what he might be asking for—the two of them in his bed, sweaty and grappling, losing themselves in each other.
That wasn’t what she needed from him, though. There was too much at stake here for her to get sidetracked by his flirting.
“I don’t negotiate.” Cordy kept her voice firm. “You can take it or leave it.”
“Look, let’s be real for a moment,” he said. “I’m the perfect person for this. You want someone here just for this class, someone who only wants to help. Which is me.”
“Why do you want to help me out? This, with babies and marriages and all of that, is very much not you. I would have thought you’d be allergic to it.”
“I am. I never want to do this again. But…” Chance ducked his head. “Everyone knows the Swing Inn is my favorite place. It’s where I go when… Well, when I need to get away. I meant it about you being my favorite bartender. When I see you behind the bar, I know I’m going to have a good night, no matter what.” He reached out to touch a strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail. “You’re the last woman I’d mess up with my crap. I promise I’m only here to get you through this class.”
What exactly did he mean by his crap? Was it what made him run to the Swing Inn to get away? But unless he offered his story, she wouldn’t pry.
“Thanks,” she said huskily. “I’m sorry that I told you no to begin with. It’s just…” Cordy stopped herself from explaining the whole tomcat thing.
He smiled, but it looked sad. “I know what my reputation is like. I don’t blame you. And I shouldn’t have said those things about Reed. You’re right; he’d be here if he could.” He lifted one shoulder. “But you’ll have to make do with me.”
“That won’t be any hardship.” As she said it, she realized it was true.
And no matter how often she chanted the word tomcat on her way home, Cordy couldn’t get the image of Chance out of her mind.