something to drink? Water? No, wait, milk. Can I get you a glass of milk?”
Great. Here she was wrestling with this unexpected attraction to him, and he wanted to make sure she was properly hydrated. Just great.
“No, nothing. Look, I’m sorry I interrupted your…evening. I should have called first.”
“You didn’t interrupt anything. I was asleep.” He smiled wryly as he grabbed a flannel shirt that had been left dangling over the back of a chair. He slipped into the shirt, buttoning enough for modesty, but not enough to block the occasional glimpse of his muscles. “Alone.”
“Oh. I see.” Except she wasn’t sure she did. It was Friday night. And it was only nine-thirty.
He must have noticed her looking at her watch because he explained, “I have to be at the firehouse pretty early in the morning.”
“Oh. Then I’m sorry I—”
“Why don’t you stop apologizing and go back to the part where you said we need to talk.”
He lowered himself into the club chair beside the sofa. Again he seemed entirely too close.
“I…um…” The words caught in her throat, trapped there by a giggle rising to the surface. This was absurd, but so was the question she couldn’t see a way out of asking. So finally she just said, “Will you marry me?”
Jake froze, his expression blank for the second time this evening. Then shock registered, and his voice rose sharply as he asked, “What?”
“I need to get married.” Then she added in a rush, “And you did offer to help out with the pregnancy. You said you’d do anything you could.”
“I meant I’d help with your laundry. I didn’t think you’d want to get married.”
“You said you would help.”
“Sure, but married? You want to get married?”
“It’d be a marriage in name only,” she reassured him. “Just until after the baby is born. Maybe not even that long.”
“Let me see if I’ve got this right. Four days ago you didn’t even want me to do your grocery shopping, and now you want to get married?”
“Yes. Well, not exactly.” She frowned, trying to sort through the logic of her proposal. “See, here’s the thing. There’s a slight chance that if I have this baby out of wedlock, I’ll be fired.”
She watched his expression carefully, looking for any hint of his emotions, but he remained stoic. After several seconds he asked, “How slight?”
“Slight-ish.”
“Can you give it to me in a percentage?”
“Maybe forty…” She paused, then added honestly. “Ninety percent.”
For another several seconds, he stared at her, then he sprang to his feet and marched to the kitchen. She heard him open and close the refrigerator door. A minute later he reappeared with a bottle of beer, half of which was already gone, as if he’d had to take several fortifying gulps before facing her again.
He rested his shoulder against the doorway to the kitchen and leveled his gaze at her. “So there’s a ‘slight’ ninety percent chance you’ll get fired when you have this baby and you didn’t think to mention it until now?”
“I didn’t think it wasn’t an issue before Beth and Stew got pregnant.” As briefly as she could, she explained about Hatcher’s bid for a seat on the Texas Supreme Court and his moral-values campaign. “So you see, being a surrogate mother for your sister who can’t get pregnant could be considered noble. Claiming to be a surrogate for your sister who’s already noticeably more pregnant than you is definitely suspicious.”
He eyed her doubtfully. “You really think anyone will even notice that you and Beth are pregnant at the same time?”
“Yes, I do. Beth and Stew know a lot of people. Half the town shops in their health food store. Trust me, people are going to notice she’s pregnant.”
“So, you just have to explain the situation. Most people will believe you.”
She sighed. “You’re right, of course. Most people will. But Hatcher doesn’t have to convince ‘most people’ in order to get me fired.”
“Do you have some kind of morality clause or something in your contract?”
“I’m an associate district judge,” she explained. “We’re appointed by the district judges. We don’t have contracts.”
“This Judge Hatcher can just fire you on a whim? His decision doesn’t have to be based on your performance? That’s bull.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Even under the circumstances, she couldn’t help being a little amused by his vehement reaction. “Of course, it’s not his decision alone. There are eight district judges total. They’d have to vote on it. All Hatcher really has to do is call a press conference questioning my morality. A public outcry from a few concerned citizens would be enough. He only needs a simple majority to vote me out of office. That’s just four other people.”
“And you think he can convince them?”
“I think it’s possible. He doesn’t even have to convince them that what I’ve done is wrong. He just has to convince them that supporting me could risk their reputations. With reelections right around the corner, how many judges do you think will stand against him?”
Jake didn’t answer, but the clenching of his jaw muscle said it all. The situation pissed him off almost as much as it did her.
“He’ll have to convince the other district judges that I’m morally unfit to preside over a court of law, but—” she shrugged “—Williamson County is one of the most conservative counties in the state, maybe even the country. If there’s anywhere being labeled an unwed mother could cost me my job, it’s here.”
He didn’t argue with her, which only confirmed that she was right. The simple truth was that people held judges to a higher standard of behavior. And Kate, for one, expected no less.
“I still don’t see how our getting married will help things. You think people will notice that you and Beth are pregnant at the same time, but not notice six months from now when we get divorced and they adopt your child? You don’t think anyone will question your morality then?”
“That’s just it,” she countered. “By the time I have the baby in November, the elections will be over. Regardless of the outcome, Hatcher could no longer use me as a pawn in his or anyone else’s campaign.” She sensed she’d almost swayed him, so she added, “It’d only be until November.”
After a long moment of studying her, he shook his head ruefully. “Look, the situation sucks, but—”
She stood. “You said you would help.”
“I know I did, but—”
She crossed the room until she was standing right in front
