Jill Shalvis - New and…Improved? & Andrew in Excess

He didn’t ask. He knew. She’d christened the purple station wagon Charlemagne.

“I think that’s a good idea.”

Fessing up about that clause in the contract would be an even better idea. In hindsight, Andrew realized he should have negotiated the point up front. He should have worked out a compromise so that he had rights to the baby, also. His deception was going to cost him in her emotional trust and the longer he delayed the higher the stakes.

“Kat, there’s something else we need to talk about-”

The doorbell chime cut him off in mid-sentence. Someone had lousy timing.

“It’s two o’clock on a Sunday afternoon. Who could this be?” he muttered as he stamped to the door.

“Jehovah’s Witnesses?” Kat offered.

Andrew checked the peephole. A couple caught in a sixties’ time warp stared back from the other side. “I don’t think so.”

He opened the massive door, and the woman launched herself at him. “Son!”

Behind him, Kat jumped to her feet. “Mother!”

“IT’S THE NINETIES, not the sixties. New Age, not hippies,” Kat explained while squirting cheese from a tube on a cracker. Raising her voice, she called out, “We’ll be just a minute, Mom, Vince.”

“Take your time, baby. We’re just absorbing the karma.”

Andrew smirked at the karma comment. “What about these matching love beads for a wedding present?” He fingered the necklace dangling about his neck.

“Crystals. They’re crystals, not love beads.” Kat licked a glob of gooey cheese off her finger. “And I think it was a lovely gift.”

“I agree. It gives a whole new meaning to wedding crystal.” Andrew arranged the bottled seltzer on a tray. “Crystals-the gift that keeps on guiding.”

Kat snickered. “Bring your crystal and that seltzer and let’s get back out there.”

Kat’s mother and stepfather were in the den, busy soaking up karma like a pair of New Age sponges. The pair beamed beatifically while Kat and Andrew settled the trays.

“So, dear, we not only wanted to bring you your wedding gift, but we wanted to let you know how your numbers came in.”

“What numbers?”

“Why, yours, and Andy’s.” Marcia laid out a chart, glowing at them like an oracle of good fortune. Vince maintained his meditative pose on the floor.

Kat tugged a still-puzzled Andrew onto the love seat beside her. “Remember, Mom’s into numerology.”

“Right. My birthday.”

“I ran yours and Kat’s.” Marcia looked up from her charts to shoot them a coy look. “You’ve got some very good numbers together.”

“How long have you been involved in the study of numerology, Mrs. Stevens?”

Kat recognized the attorney tone. Andrew was going somewhere with this, she just wasn’t sure where.

“Right after Rand and I got a divorce. Too bad it wasn’t before we got married. But then I wouldn’t have my two wonderful children, so I guess I don’t mean that. But I’ve studied numbers for about twenty-five years. And the numbers don’t lie. Mom. Call me Mom. According to the numbers, we’re going to be family for a long time, son.”

Kat indulged her mother because she loved her, but she figured Marcia would be just as well off interpreting tea leaves. Vince continued to stare off into space. Even for Vince, he was acting weird. “Uh, Mom, is Vince okay?”

Marcia waved an airy hand. “Sure. He took a workshop on trance channeling in California. He’s been trying for days.”

“Did you run the numbers on Nick?” There was nothing subtle about Andrew’s question. Good thing she was already sitting down, because his question floored her.

“Does ginseng have a root? Of course I did. That Nick, he was a bad number. A very bad number. Made me wish the numbers were wrong, but of course they never are.”

Kat was shocked. “Mom, you never mentioned it. Are you serious? Nick’s numbers came up bad?”

“Some of the worst I’ve ever seen. I’ll tell you, it took some heavy-duty meditation to work through that.”

“Why didn’t you warn her?” Andrew’s question held a hard edge.

Kat wished he’d remember this was a conversation, not a hearing. But it was rather sweet that he seemed so indignant on her behalf.

“Our children don’t always make the choices we’d like, and the only true recourse is to accept them graciously and be prepared to stand by them when the bottom drops out. If I’d told Kat she’d picked a bad number in Nick, do you really think it would have swayed her decision to marry him?”

Two pair of eyes pinned her for an answer. Kat remembered her desperate resolve at twenty-one to live up to everyone’s expectations. She’d also fancied herself in love. Her answer came swift and sure. “Absolutely not.”

Something flickered in Andrew’s eyes at her response before he resumed his cool demeanor.

“That’s what I thought. My headstrong little girl would’ve told me to find some tea leaves to read and gone about her merry business.”

A guilty flush climbed up Kat’s neck.

Marcia winked at her knowingly before turning her attention to Andrew. “One day when you’re a parent you’ll know what I mean. You’ll go through the same thing with your kids.”

Kat mentally noted the reference to kids. Emphasis on the s. Plural. As in more than one.

“Kids?” Andrew’s stunned voice echoed her reaction.

Marcia beamed. “Kids. I don’t want to take the surprise out of it, but it was in the numbers. And it doesn’t matter a whit to me that big families are out of vogue these days.”

Kat couldn’t stop the thrill her mother’s words brought. She’d always wanted her own little brood. That’s why having this one was so important. She couldn’t imagine her life without a child. Somewhere along the way she’d tripped herself up and now she couldn’t imagine herself without Andrew’s child.

His eyes met hers. Behind his dubiousness lay a spark of tender excitement.

“YOU’RE SURE YOU don’t mind if they stay the night,” Kat asked as she helped Andrew scout out blankets and pillows.

“I don’t mind them staying over. It’s just not clear to me why they can’t avail themselves of a guest room.” Kat’s mother and stepfather were entertaining and charming but pushing the weird side. And how the hell could he talk to her about his clause in their contract if he had in-laws bunking down with them? Not that he was looking for an excuse to put off an explosive topic.

“I know. But when Mother decides the karma’s good in a room, there’s no changing her mind.” She opened the laundry room door. “How about in here?”

Andrew quirked a wry smile. “I guess good karma’s hard to find these days.”

Kat laughed, an undercurrent of sexuality sparkling in her eyes. Andrew tucked away a mental note card-his wife found humor arousing. Maybe they’d spend next weekend in bed watching the comedy channel.

They both squeezed into the confines of the laundry area. Kat’s hip brushed against his thigh, throwing his body and imagination into overdrive. He came up with a new use for the ironing board mounted on the wall. What the hell was wrong with him? He didn’t even have an imagination. And if he did have one, it’d never encompassed ironing boards.

Kat explored a row of narrow shelves. “Bingo!”

Laughing over her shoulder at him, Kat bent forward to select a pillowcase from the bottom shelf. Andrew’s erection swelled further. He framed her delectable derriere with his hands and pulled her backward, until her soft curves met his jutting angles. She wriggled against him. Not in protest, but enticingly. Still pressing against her from behind, in blunt, straightforward terms he outlined his plans for her, him and the ironing board.