probably wasn’t the right message to send, not with the reporters here, but she liked feeling protected by Logan.
“Are you two a couple?” someone asked. If only they knew the extent to which they were not a couple, even if he could be the father of her unborn child.
Logan picked up their pace as they neared the door. Still, the throng crushed in on them. “Everybody, back off.” His voice boomed above the incessant chatter. He swiped off his sunglasses and straightened, employing all six feet and several more inches of him as intimidation. His audience actually shut up for a moment. Hard to believe. “One step inside and I won’t bother with hotel management. I’ll call the police. Leave her alone and find some other story to chase.” He took her hand, and they escaped through the revolving doors.
“Are you okay?” Logan asked, not letting go of her as they made their way through the lobby.
His touch sent tingles throughout her entire body—unrequited, one-way tingles that served no purpose other than to frustrate her. “Yes. I’m fine.” She stepped up to the front desk. “Checking in. The reservation is under Brady.”
“Marcia?” Logan chuckled.
“Jan Brady. I’m no Marcia,” she mumbled under her breath.
The front desk clerk, who looked familiar, smiled and winked, seeming to enjoy the idea of being in on the joke of a celebrity using a false name. “But, Mr. Brandt. I see you have a reservation with us as well.” Confusion washed over his face as he glanced back and forth between them.
It was then that Julia recognized the man—he’d been working the front desk when she and Logan had had their tryst. They’d ended up staying in Logan’s room that time. Julia hadn’t bothered to check in before the reunion, and by the time they’d arrived at the hotel, they were about to tear off each other’s clothes in the lobby. Two rooms had seemed laughable.
But not anymore.
Room keys in hand, Logan and Julia filed into the elevator. An elderly couple had joined them. No one said a thing, and the quiet gave Logan’s mind plenty of space to roam. Too much space. She’s pregnant? And it’s a secret? Who in the hell is the dad? He glanced over at her. No baby bump yet. She’s known for a few weeks. She can’t be very far along. Wait a minute… How far along was she? Could he? No. Not that. But wait. Could he be? The dad?
The elevator came to a stop. Logan held the door to afford the other passengers some time. He caught the uncertainty in Julia’s eyes. There was more weighing on her. He could see it, and he had to know it all, even if it might hurt. They made it to the top floor—as Logan remembered it, the only floor with suites. Judging by their room numbers, they’d be across the hall from each other.
“We should talk some more,” Julia said when they’d arrived at their doors. Her voice was ragged at the edges, an apt reflection of her nerves. Considering the pressure from the reporters, her family and having to keep her secret, she had to be exhausted.
“Yes. We should. I want to hear more about your, um, situation.” He felt idiotic the minute he’d worded it that way, but at least he’d kept his promise to not say anything.
“I need food, too. I’m really hungry.”
“Even after being carsick?”
“Yes. It’s one of the weird things about…it. I feel queasy, but I’d give my right arm for fried chicken and a peach pie. The whole pie.”
He was still getting used to the idea of Julia being pregnant. Talking about it wasn’t helping. It was only making it more bizarre. “With the vultures outside, we probably shouldn’t leave the hotel until we need to.”
“Can we order room service and talk after I have a chance to change?”
The bellman came strolling down the hall with their two roller bags.
“Looks like your change of clothes is right on time. My room? A half hour?”
“Perfect.”
Logan brought his suitcase inside and ordered food—grilled pork for himself, and with no fried chicken on the menu, he chose a steak for Julia, medium rare. Just the way she liked it, and she never turned down a steak. He then unpacked his suit for the rehearsal dinner Friday night, as well as the rest of his clothes, and changed into jeans and a T-shirt. He might as well get comfortable for whatever it was that Julia was going to spring on him tonight. One thing was for sure. She had a talent for catching him off guard.
Room service was wheeling in the cart when Julia came out of her room. “Sorry I’m a little late. I nodded off for a few minutes.”
She was tired—enough to nod off. That was so unlike Julia, he could hardly wrap his brain around it. She never slowed down. There was always something brewing, always something to do, someone new to meet, some new adventure on which to embark. So this was her new adventure. A baby.
A sweet smile that was tinged with melancholy crossed her face as she stepped inside. It struck him as she padded past, leaving her soft and sensuous smell in her wake—she seemed smaller. Was it because she was as out on a limb as a person could be, all while trying to hide? Although she rarely allowed herself to be vulnerable, Julia was a very open person. Keeping this secret from her family must’ve been one of the most difficult things she’d ever decided she had to do.
She’d changed into a loose-fitting pink top and a pair of black yoga pants. Julia could work a fancy designer dress like nobody’s business, but he really preferred her like this—relaxed. And he had to admire the rear view as he trailed behind her. “We can sit on the sofa and eat.”
They started in on dinner, Julia confirming her claim that she was starving. She’d always been an enthusiastic eater, even when she was skinny as a rail in high school, but this was an impressive showing. “I’ve been craving red meat, too. So thank you. This is perfect.”
He smiled and nodded, not really tasting his meal, still getting accustomed to the notion of the pregnancy. He’d already psyched himself up for her to tell him who the dad was, although he dreaded the answer—some hotshot CEO, a power-hungry producer or one of her toothy costars. And then there was the voice in his head asking if he might be part of the equation.
The moment was still fresh in his mind—back in his room after the reunion, peeling away her dress, drinking in the vision of her curves, it all hitting him in an avalanche—he’d waited for a very long time to be with her again. The way she moved told him that she was far more comfortable with her body than she’d ever been in high school. As she unbuckled his belt and kissed him softly, she’d said they wouldn’t need a condom. She was on the pill. She’d also quipped, “When I remember to take it.” Then his pants had slumped to the floor and further clarification of birth control was the last thing on his mind. That night alone they could have conceived a baby many times over, and it had been only the start of their weekend together.
“So. Pregnant. That’s big. Really big.” Why he suddenly had so little vocabulary was beyond him. He only knew that his palms were starting to get clammy.
“I know. It is.” She gathered her napkin and placed it on the table. “I was surprised, to say the least.”
“So this wasn’t planned.”
