Leanna Wilson - The Expectant Secretary

While she washed and cut the potatoes and set them on the stove to boil, he read the paper, rustling the pages every few seconds.

“Well, now, this is interesting,” he muttered.

“What’s that?” Glancing over her shoulder, she smiled. The heat from the stove made perspiration dot her forehead. With the back of her wrist, she brushed back a lock of hair. “What did you find?”

“The high-and-mighty Fortunes are about to have a wedding.” He rubbed the top of the beer bottle along his jaw, scraping the stubble that had been growing for the last few days. “Interesting. Very interesting.”

“Who’s getting married?” She moved toward him, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Must be one of them Aussie cousins. And some interior designer.”

“I just love weddings!” It had been years since she’d been to one. She didn’t know many folks. But that didn’t matter. Maybe one day soon she’d walk down the aisle herself. Slanting her gaze at Clint, she wondered if maybe he’d be the one waiting for her, waiting to make her his bride.

“This might be the opportunity I’ve been waiting for.” He slapped the paper onto the table. “We just might have to congratulate the bride and groom on their good fortune.” He gave a wild, dangerous laugh that sent a chill of excitement and dread down Betsy’s spine.

“Feeling any better?” Amy Fairaday asked, her voice as soft as summer rain.

Jillian leaned back in the recliner and popped another lemon drop into her mouth. She closed her eyes but sensed her sister’s careful inspection. “I feel okay if I lie completely still.”

“Why don’t you take a couple of days off and relax? It might help.”

“Believe me,” Jillian said with a heavy sigh, “nothing will help.” Besides, she couldn’t take time off from work. She’d only worked for Brody a couple of days. Anyway, she’d need that time later…in about six months.

“So, what’s it like?” Amy settled on the couch, throwing her legs over the arm and propping her chin on her hands.

Jillian slanted her gaze toward her older sister. “What?”

“Being pregnant.” A dark shadow hovered in her eyes. “Billy and I had talked about having kids. But he was always too busy. Too busy foolin’ around getting another woman pregnant.”

Frowning, Jillian wondered why the Hart women had been so unlucky in love. Was it in the genes? Or simply bad luck?

At least one good thing had come out of her own horrible marriage. She touched her lower abdomen. Wonder swelled inside her breast. When she’d first discovered she was pregnant, she’d worried, fretted, cursed her luck. Not because of the baby. But because she’d known her marriage was not a good environment in which to raise a child. She’d considered leaving James but had feared what he would do to her…to the baby. She’d hoped an absent father was better than no father at all.

Then he’d died. It had been an answered prayer. Almost. Except she’d never prayed specifically for her husband’s death, never imagined it possible or even wished for something so tragic. She’d simply asked for a miracle. And her luck had changed.

Until she’d run into Brody.

“Being pregnant,” she said in answer to her sister’s question, “is wonderful.” After James’s funeral, the shock of her pregnancy had given way to wonder and awe before reality had sunk in. Then she’d worried about finances as her husband’s bills and debts rolled in, erasing every cent of the insurance money. But the fears had never for one moment made her regret this baby. Her child would be her new beginning.

“And terrifying.” She modified her earlier statement. If it wasn’t for her sister’s generosity, she didn’t know where she’d be living now.

She wondered when she’d feel the baby stir inside of her and hoped it would be soon. Then she added, “And strange.”

Amy chuckled. “All that, huh? The ‘wonderful’ I can imagine. The ‘terrifying’ is understandable being a single mom. But why ‘strange’?”

Jillian laughed for the first time in days. “I’ve turned into the biggest klutz.”

Tilting her head back until her long golden ponytail stretched the length of her spine, Amy laughed. “I don’t believe that.”

“It’s true.” She sucked on the tart lemony flavor of the candy in her mouth. “I’ve never tripped or spilled so much in my life. At the office everyone has started keeping clear of me. The government could declare me a disaster zone at any time. And I can’t seem to remember anything. I start to look up a file and I forget what I’m searching for. I’ve lost my keys twice this week. I guess it’s a good thing the baby’s attached at this point or I might accidentally forget it somewhere.”

“I doubt that.” Rubbing her socked feet together, Amy asked, “Want some hot tea?”

“No, thanks. I’m feeling a little better. As long as I keep something in my stomach I’m okay.”

“So we need to let you graze all day.”

Jillian rolled her eyes. “Great. By my ninth month I’ll look like a cow.”

“You’ll look maternal, glowing, that’s all.”

She tugged on the band of her skirt that pinched her waist. “Won’t be long and I won’t be able to fit into any of my clothes. Or yours.”

Amy smiled sympathetically. “So when do you think you’ll tell your boss?”

Shrugging, she felt her nerve endings vibrate as her thoughts switched to Brody. “Not until I have to. This promotion came with a raise. And I need to keep it. I need to show him I’m indispensable. I don’t want to be sidelined just because I’m pregnant.”

“But he’ll have to learn about it sometime.”

“I know.” She compressed her lips together. “Just not right now.”

“So what’s he like?” Amy asked. “You haven’t said much about him.”

Jillian pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. She hadn’t told anyone about her previous relationship with Brody. Sighing, she twisted her fingers together as she remembered the kiss he’d given her. “He’s…”

Dark and brooding.

Sweet and generous.

Sexy and too tempting for my own good.

“I don’t know,” she finally finished.

“The accountant type?” Amy wrinkled her nose.

“Not really.”

“Not one of those buttoned-down, Type-A personalities?”

“Well…” It could describe Brody. In a sense. But it didn’t encompass all of him. He was certainly more serious now than when she’d known him in college. Of course, he was an executive. He had serious matters to consider.

“What, then?” Amy brushed her bangs out of her eyes. “Does he carry his calculator in his front shirt pocket? Comb long strands of hair over a bald spot? Have crooked teeth? Crossed eyes?”

Trying to envision Brody with any of those maladies, Jillian laughed. “Not at all. In fact…”

“Yes?” Amy prompted, her hazel eyes twinkling with curiosity. “Go on.”

A hot sensation that reminded Jillian of Brody’s kiss and the heat it had generated made her face burn. “Well, he’s…” She couldn’t admit that he was sexier than Mel Gibson. Or as intriguing as Crocodile Dundee. “He brought me a bagel at work today.”

“That was nice.” Her sister’s gaze narrowed. “You don’t have a thing for your boss, do you?”

“Depends on what you mean by ‘thing.’”

Amy groaned. “Oh, no, Jill. This is not a good idea.”

“You mean ‘wasn’t a good idea.’”

Her sister’s brow wrinkled with sudden concern. “What happened? Did he make a pass at you? Did you make one toward him?”

Jillian flushed. For a moment she thought she might faint again, but realized she was experiencing a different type of headiness. “Past tense.”