TWENTY-EIGHT
JACK
“This is your favorite restaurant?” I blink at Emma before returning my gaze to the front door of one of New York’s best places to eat—and the most expensive ones. “I’m not sure I can afford this.”
Emma chuckles. “Don’t worry. My dad will take care of the check. He’ll be offended if you try to chip in, so don’t. Can you do that? Enjoy free food?”
With a laugh, I shake my head. “I’ll do my best, Peach.” I bury my nose in her hair and whisper, “I may claim some compensation from you afterward, though. You know, for my efforts.”
She shudders when I place a featherlike kiss on her neck before letting her go. “Jack! You are unbelievable,” she grumbles, but her amused smile gives her away.
“How did your dad even get a table here at such short notice?”
“He’s good friends with the owner. We eat here every time my parents come to visit.”
“Wow, being your boyfriend has its perks.”
She rolls her eyes but laughs when she grabs my hand and pulls me after her into the restaurant. Emma tells the ma?tre d’ her name, and we follow him to a nice table in a quiet corner, where Emma’s parents are already waiting for us. I’m not sure if there’s any etiquette involved in greeting them, so when Emma sits down with a casual hello , I follow suit. Charles gives us a warm smile while I only get a glare from her mom.
We choose and order our food in silence. The level of awkwardness increases, and I wonder if agreeing to this dinner was such a smart idea. I glance at Emma, and she seems just as uncomfortable. Her mom still hasn’t said a single word, but her dad finally ends the cringeworthy moment. “Tell us, how did you two meet?” he asks.
Emma clears her throat and smiles at me before turning back to her father. “We met through a mutual friend. Things kind of evolved from there.”
Charles laughs. “Pretty quickly at that.”
Then it bursts out of her mother. “Was this pregnancy planned?”
Emma lets out a long breath. “No, Mom, it wasn’t. Sometimes, things happen.”
Her dad frowns. “Mary, please, there’s no use pondering this too much now, is there? What does it matter, anyway?” He turns back to Emma. “How far along are you?”
She grimaces. “I’ve just started the sixth month. The baby is due in October.”
“In October! Oh, Emma.” With a sigh, he covers his daughter’s hand with his. “I can’t believe you kept this from us this long.”
“I’m sorry,” Emma says, mirroring her dad’s frown. “I couldn’t. At first, I didn’t know how to handle the situation myself. It came as quite a surprise for me too.” She lowers her gaze. “And I knew how Mom would react. ”
Again, her parents exchange a glance. Her mother rolls her eyes before looking at Emma. “I’m sorry, darling. I only want what’s best for you.”
Emma’s jaw tightens, and she pinches the bridge of her nose before glaring at her mom. “Why don’t you let me decide what’s best for me? I have a great job that I love. I love my life here with my friends, and now I love Jack and this baby.” Emma leans back in her chair and rests her hand on her belly. “Once he’s born, I’ll be happier than ever. This is the best thing that could have happened to me.”
Charles gasps. “He? You’re having a boy?” A big smile spreads across his face, and when Emma meets his gaze, she returns it with the same smile she always gives me whenever she’s talking about the baby.
“Yes,” she says, “we just found out today.”
While Emma’s dad’s face gleams with joy, her mom’s facial expression still shows no sign of approval, and she lets out a resigned sigh when she looks at her husband with the happy grin on his lips.
Once the food arrives, our conversation gradually changes to lighter topics, but it doesn’t surprise me when Emma’s dad asks me to join him at the bar for a taste of the best whiskey in town—Emma and her mom need to talk in private. I look at her, and she gives me a slight nod, and before following her father, I plant a short, sweet, and hopefully reassuring kiss on her lips.
Charles ushers me to the other side of the restaurant, and we sit next to each other on the bar stools. He orders our drinks, and we silently enjoy the first sip of what really is the best whiskey I have ever tasted—not that I drink it a lot .
“Jack.” Charles tilts his head. “Tell me about yourself. What do you do? Are you from New York?”
I shake my head. “Born in Boston. I moved to New York a few years ago with my best friend. His sister already lived here, and he found a job at a high school in Brooklyn. I’m a medical device engineer, and luckily, it was easy to find a job.”
“And how did you meet Emma? She didn’t give any details earlier.”
A subtle smile plays on my lips when I think back to our first meeting. I direct my gaze to the drink in my hand. I swirl the glass and watch the auburn liquid before responding. “As Emma already mentioned, we have a mutual friend. Paul is my best friend, and he volunteers at the hospital where Emma works. That’s how he knows her. I met your daughter when I had to go to the emergency room one night.”
He sits up straight. “Oh? I hope nothing serious?”
“No, just a small laceration.” I run my finger over my eyebrow and the tiny white line. “But I’m glad it happened because it brought me to Emma.” I look at him and smile. The grin he gives me in return makes me like him even more than I already do. He’s a genuinely nice man, and I wonder how he ended up with his wife.
“I’m glad too,” Charles says. “Emma looks so happy. It’s great she’s found a man who fulfills his responsibilities. Someone else might have left the mother of his child if it was unplanned.”
I bite my lips. I feel bad for lying to him, but it’s Emma’s decision to tell them the truth. I avert my gaze and think about what to answer him. “I promised Emma to support her in this,” I say. “No matter how things proceed between us, I will keep that promise.”
He gives me a grateful smile and finishes his drink. “Another one before we go back to the ladies?”
I nod and finish my drink as well. A warm sensation spreads within me, a feeling I could easily ascribe to the alcohol, but I know it’s not that. It’s the thought of Emma—of us, her and me and the baby.
My baby.
Later that night, Emma and I lie on her bed. Her head rests on my bare chest, and I wrap my arms around her. I feel relaxed due to the alcohol I had after dinner, but that’s not the reason I’m comfortable with Emma being this close to me.
While her fingers trace the outlines of my tattoo, Emma tells me about the talk with her mom. “She let me know how disappointed she was. I told her again this was a good thing, that I was happy, and that she should be happy for me. It took her some effort, but she said she understood. We still have many things to resolve, but she’s willing to do so. She’s ready to listen. She even said having a grandchild wasn’t the worst that could have happened, which is her way of saying she’s looking forward to it.”
At that point, I have to grab her fingers, which still draw lazy circles over my skin. Emma lifts her head and furrows her brows. “Sorry, babe,” I say. “It’s hard to concentrate on what you say when you do that. ”
A mischievous smile appears on her face, and she presses a soft kiss on my lips. “Okay,” she whispers. She laces our fingers together and rests her head on my chest. “I’ll take a day off tomorrow,” she continues, “and Mom and I will meet for brunch.”
“That’s good,” I say with a sigh. “By the way, your dad invited me to his birthday party. He told me we could stay as long as we liked. He’d love to spend more time with us.”
Emma chuckles. “I thought he would. He likes you, and when he says he’d like to spend time with us, he means with you.”
I let out a long breath. “At least I have his approval. Your mom hates my guts.”
Emma sits up and turns to look at me. “She’ll come around. It’s nothing personal. It’s just because you supposedly knocked me up before marrying me.”
I roll onto my side and prop up on my elbow, resting my head on my hand. I stroke Emma’s thigh with my other hand. “Will you reconsider telling your parents the truth? I hated to lie to your dad like that.”
Emma fixes her gaze on my hand, which has reached the hem of her barely there sleeping shorts. “Are you trying to bribe me?” she asks with a raised eyebrow.
My fingers move underneath the hem and touch the lace of her panties. “Maybe,” I respond in a husky whisper. “Is it working?”
“No,” she says with a determination I know isn’t there.
“How about this?” I sit up and move her hair away from her neck, pressing my lips on the skin just below her ear and a little farther down until I reach her shoulder. I remove the strap of her camisole and leave another soft kiss there.
Emma takes a deep breath when my hand moves even farther up her thigh and inside those tiny shorts toward her ass. “Okay, I will reconsider,” she says with a soft moan.
“Good,” I respond and move away from her. I lie back on the bed and cross my arms behind my head. I hold back the satisfied grin when Emma gapes at me.
Her stare turns into a glare. “You cruel tease!” She crosses her arms over her chest and turns her back to me with an angry puff.
“Sorry, Peach.” I chuckle as I move behind her so her back is pressed against my chest. I run my hands over her arms, and she shivers.
“Don’t you Peach me, mister!” She snorts. “That was mean.”
I rest my chin on her shoulder and my hands on her belly. “Hey, little Peanut,” I say with a laugh as I stroke the bump. “Put in a good word for me with your mom, will you? She’s a little mad at me.”
Emma flinches, and I guffaw when we feel the baby move. She gasps. “Oh my gosh! Whose side are you on?” She places her hands on her belly and shakes her head when the baby moves again. “Dammit, Peanut, you’re supposed to be on my side! Not your—” Instead of finishing the sentence, she lowers her head with a sigh.
I place my hands on hers. “Say it, Peach,” I breathe in her ear. “His what?”
Emma looks into my eyes with such an intense stare that it makes me tremble. “His dad,” she says in a hardly audible whisper .
A wide grin spreads across my face. “I like the sound of that.”
“You do?”
“Of course,” I murmur before pulling her closer to kiss her lips. We lean back and continue kissing more and more passionately, but it’s still slow and sweet and affectionate. It’s a kiss that makes me feel more alive than ever, a kiss that makes me fall even deeper in love with her.
“Thanks for staying with me tonight,” Emma says when we come up for air. Her face lights up with that sweet, sexy smile I adore so much.
I’d tell her I’d stay forever if she asked me to. “Of course, Peach.”
Her smile widens, and her eyes sparkle. “And now, make love to me.”
Again, I’m happy to oblige.