Allison Leigh - A Weaver Baby

Of course that was one big, fat lie considering she was nearly eight weeks pregnant.

With his child.

Eating dinner in the mansion wasn’t anything like J.D. had expected it to be.

They were seated in the formal dining room around a linen-draped table that could have sat a football team, but there was nothing formal about the meal.

Jake had a stack of papers next to his plate and seemed content to split his attention between them and J.D.

Of his sons’ actions that afternoon, he was evidently not planning to make any more comment. At least not in front of her.

Zach and Connor sat at the table, too, but since her Chinese food had taken the edge off their appetites, they paid more attention to the electronic hand-held games they were playing than they did to the meal. And that was set on the table by Jake’s aunt.

Her legs felt unsteady and she sank down into her chair again looking from Jake to his boys and back again.

Would he show as little interest in their child as he seemed to show for his twins? Would he have his secretary make arrangements to pack her off to boarding school when she inevitably got up to mischief? Would he practically ignore her every time they sat down together for a meal?

The thoughts made J.D. a little dizzy and she quickly reached for the crystal water goblet, inelegantly sucking down half of its contents.

Of all things, that Jake seemed to notice. “Are you all right? You look pale.”

Heat streamed through her cheeks, right on up to the tips of her ears. “Fine. It’s just been a long day.”

His lips twisted. “That it has been.”

Her gaze flicked to the boys. Neither one looked up from their hand-held games, despite the plate of food their aunt set in front of them.

Susan took the seat next to J.D.

“Put your papers aside, Jake. What sort of example are you setting?” Her gaze went to the boys. They’d stopped playing their games in favor of pulling ghastly faces at each other.

“Zach, Con, put the games away,” he said. Though he didn’t set aside his papers at all, J.D. noticed. She also noticed just how tired and drawn he really looked. It seemed plain that the past few weeks had taken a toll on him.

Then Jake’s gaze encountered hers and try though she might, she couldn’t quite make herself look away.

Susan’s intentionally cheerful attempts at conversation with the boys faded into the background.

J.D.’s field of vision seemed to narrow and pinpoint on the quizzical lift of Jake’s eyebrow.

Even the air seemed to thicken until her lungs struggled for oxygen.

“Whoa.” Jake suddenly bolted from his chair, catching her before she slid sideways off her chair.

“Dude,” she heard one of the boys—probably Connor—breathe.

“Take it easy.” Jake’s voice came close to her ear and she frowned, focusing with an effort.

Her head was swimming. “What?”

“You looked about ready to faint,” Jake said.

His hands were on her shoulders, she realized. She could feel the press of his fingertips through her T-shirt and much too easily she remembered that night.

The night they’d conceived a baby that she’d believed she’d never have.

Her stomach clutched. “I’m sorry.”

“Here.” Susan was nudging a water goblet toward them. “Give her some water.”

Jake lifted the glass to J.D.’s lips and it was just easier to succumb than to fight. She sipped at the water, and gradually, the room seemed to straighten.

The line between his brows had deepened even more. This close, she could see his eyes were bloodshot.

How long had it been since he’d slept?

She straightened in her chair, pressing her shaking hands along the sides of the upholstered seat. “I’m fine.”

“We can all see that.” Jake didn’t smile.

“Here you go, dear.” Susan had managed to fill a plate with food and she set it in front of J.D. “A little food and you’ll be good as new.”

There was nothing unappetizing about the juicy pot roast and roasted vegetables, but J.D.’s stomach lurched horribly anyway. “Actually, if I could just freshen up for a moment?” Still feeling dizzy around the edges, nausea forced her rapidly to her feet and she practically ran out of the room when Susan pointed out the directions.

J.D. barely made it to the fancy powder room near the marble foyer before she lost her lunch.

After, she rinsed her mouth and sat on the closed commode with the sink faucet still running, and pressed her face into her hands.

Since the moment that the big blue plus sign had appeared on the home pregnancy test she’d taken, she’d felt myriad things. But this was the first time she’d felt the slightest hint of morning sickness.

It made her pregnancy seem a little more real. She didn’t know whether that made her want to laugh or cry.

“J.D.?” The concern in Susan’s voice was evident even through the closed door. “Do you need anything?”

J.D. dropped her hands and looked at her reflection in the mirror opposite her. A husband?

“No.” She cleared her throat, and looked away from the mirror. Becoming pregnant had thrown her for a loop, a joyous one certainly, but that didn’t mean she was entertaining ideas about orange blossoms and I do’s.

She was 31 years old and more than ready to be a mother. But a wife?

She hadn’t been able to stay faithful to Donny and he was the closest she’d ever come to even considering marriage.

“No, thank you,” she finished more clearly, and turned off the water before opening the door. “I’m fine,” she insisted. “It’s the heat. It’s just getting to me more than usual today.”

Susan’s eyes, so like her nephew’s, weren’t convinced, but it was probably her good manners that kept her from arguing the point. “It is awfully hot,” she agreed, and fell in step with J.D. as they headed back to the dining room. “I’d like to think the boys were simply miserable hiding in the back of your pickup truck the way they did,” she confided softly. “It might make them think twice next time before pulling another stunt.”

“Did’ja throw up?” Zach asked the second she entered the dining room.

“Zach,” Jake admonished.

The boy hunched his shoulders and jabbed his fork back into the slice of pie on his plate. “What? I was just curious.”

“Maybe you got the flu,” Connor suggested. “I got it last year. I got to miss a whole week of school ’cause of it. It was cool even if I did gotta throw up. Do you get to miss work now?”

“I don’t have the flu,” J.D. said. “I certainly don’t have to miss work.”

“Maybe you should,” Jake suggested. “Miguel told me there was a bug going around down there. Maybe you’ve caught it.”

The bug she had wasn’t exactly catching.

But it did provide an excuse and she greedily latched onto it. “Maybe so. Which means I should go before I spread it to all of you.”

“Jake, she shouldn’t drive,” Susan protested.

“No, really—”

“My aunt is right.” Jake set down his pen and stood. “I’ll drive you home.”

“No!” She seemed to be saying that quite a lot now, when she ought to have said it that night in the stable, eight weeks ago. “Truly,” she tried in a more reasonable tone, “it’s not necessary. I’ll be fine.” She started backing out of the room again. “I, um, I even have the entire weekend to rest up. Stay here with your family. Enjoy your meal.” Though, with the exception of Sophie, it didn’t look like anyone was enjoying themselves much. “Thanks.” She gave a little wave and turned on her boot heel, hurrying back toward the foyer.