Big Sky Baby. Judy Duarte
Чтение книги онлайн.
Читать онлайн книгу Big Sky Baby - Judy Duarte страница 7
“You’ll make a good mom, Jilly.”
“Thanks.”
“Listen, honey—” Oops, the endearment slipped out again, but he continued anyway, desperately wanting to say something sensible and helpful “—everything is going to work out fine. Just wait and see.”
Somehow Jeff would make sure of it.
When Jilly hung up the telephone, she stroked the little dog that had curled up on her lap.
“What do you think, Posey?”
The mutt stood up and licked her chin.
“What would I do without you or Jeff?”
Posey whimpered, then gave a little bark.
Jilly glanced at the phone, wishing she had the kind of news that didn’t need to be delivered to Cain in person.
What a coward.
Still, she didn’t want to show up on his doorstep and find he was on duty at the fire station.
What the heck. Why not call and see if he answered? She could always hang up.
And that’s what she decided to do. Fortunately, she got his answering machine. “I’m out and about. Leave a message and I’ll call you when I feel like it.”
Most people found his recording humorous. But they didn’t know him like Jilly did. The fact was Cain only called a person back when he felt like it.
How many times had she waited for a return call? How many times had she wondered where he was and why he was late?
She thought about the last time she’d seen him. He’d been out with another fireman, a buddy, he’d said. But a telltale smear of fire-engine-red lipstick on his collar suggested otherwise.
“While ol’ Frank and I were tossing down a few brews at Joe’s bar, the waitress slipped on a lemon wedge someone had dropped on the floor. I caught her, just before she fell.” He’d winked at Jilly, then added, “Once a hero, always a hero.”
That poor waitress must have fallen hard, because Cain bore a small bruise on his neck. The fact that it looked suspiciously like a love bite didn’t do his questionable credibility any good.
What an idiot she’d been, a definite slow learner in the relationship department.
Like the sand in an hourglass, Jeff’s friendly advice finally began to sink in. The good-looking fireman had been taking her for a ride, stringing her along. Playing tetherball with her heart.
Cain had never been there when she needed him. And she really didn’t expect him to do things any differently now.
But Jeff was right. He deserved to know about the baby.
She hung up the phone and sighed. Chances were Cain was on duty and at the station tonight. That meant he would be home tomorrow morning. Like it or not, it was best she got this over with.
Jilly would be on Cain’s front porch after he got home from work and before he could leave.
Then she would lay her pride on the line.
Chapter Three
Jilly parked her ten-year-old, white Ford Taurus along the curb in front of Cain’s apartment building and struggled to find the courage to face him.
What would she say?
Telling a man he was going to be a father, that they were going to be parents, should be an exciting and happy time. So why did she feel as though she were stepping onto the long green mile?
Because a relationship with Cain—even one in which they only shared a child—seemed like a death sentence. Things hadn’t ended well, and she’d made it clear in both tone and volume that she’d rather die than see or talk to him again.
She glanced into the rearview mirror and, catching a glimpse of the dark circles under her eyes that revealed she hadn’t slept worth a darn last night, blew out a ragged sigh. She’d best get this over with.
Cain’s living-room blinds were open, indicating he was indeed home. But she couldn’t see inside. Had he seen her pull up?
She could still turn the Taurus around and drive away. Go home with her secret and pride in tact. It certainly felt like the right thing to do. But instead, with Jeff’s advice ringing in her ears, she jerked open the car door and slipped from her vehicle.
Another wave of apprehension assaulted her. What was she doing here? Their relationship was over, and she’d never wanted to see Cain again. Of course, small-town life made completely avoiding him impossible. But this was different. Jilly was actually seeking him out and providing information that would complicate things.
She trudged up the walk, the leather soles of her sandals crunching upon the dirty concrete in a cadence that woke the coward that lived deep in her soul—the yellow-bellied weakling she’d banished years ago by playing tough guy.
It’s not too late, the coward reminded her. You can still turn around.
But Jeff’s voice kicked in, strong and true. I know it’ll be tough for you to do, but you’ve got to tell him about the baby, honey.
Yeah. Telling Cain was the right thing to do, she supposed. Leave it to Jeff to set her on the straight-and-narrow path.
Jilly stepped around a worn leather baseball mitt someone had left on the walkway and continued up the stairs to Cain’s second-level apartment. She rang the bell and wiped her palms on the sides of her jeans.
When Cain swung open the door, surprise registered briefly on his face, then he flashed her a pearly white smile. “Look who’s here. A while back, you seemed pretty serious about never seeing me again, babe. Change your mind?”
She wanted to slap the smirk from his face, but crossed her arms instead. “I need to talk to you.”
“Sure,” he said, stepping aside. “But I’ve only got a few minutes. I just got a call from Reed down at the station. The wind changed, and some of us are being sent in to help fight the fire again. We’re heading out in less than an hour.”
Jilly nodded, then made her way into the classic bachelor’s pad—leather sofa, fully stocked bar, state-of-the-art stereo system, surround sound. A dimmer switch on all the lights.
Like Jeff had said during one of their telephone conversations when she told him about how nice Cain’s place was, “That’s quite an impressive setup in a rented apartment. He’s a player, Jilly. Watch out.”
Jilly had clicked her tongue and waved him off. “Give the guy a break, will you? He’s not the same kid you remember from school. He’s a fireman for goodness’ sake.”
But Jeff had been right—as usual. Why hadn’t she figured it out sooner? Before her life came tumbling down around her.
“Did you come to apologize?”