potted palms and hanging ferns packing the space. She sank onto the rattan sofa and yanked tissues from the box on the end table. Finally she let the tears flow, tears she’d bottled up since the minute she’d found out she would be having a baby alone. Tears collected from worry about how all of this would affect her mother. Tears over the possibility of losing her business.
And tears over Jason?
This was her wedding night and as much as she wished she could allow herself to enjoy the fringe benefits without worry, she simply couldn’t throw caution to the wind that easily.
She would do what it took to save her business. And yes, she would help Jason advance in his career, as well, because that was in the best interest of her child. Once this farcical marriage was done, she was through with Jason Reagert.
But first, she had to get through her wedding night.
Jason had a backlog of work waiting on his laptop propped by his seat on the plane. Normally flights made for the perfect time to play catch-up, and the pilot had just given them the all clear to use electronics.
Tonight he had no interest in what waited on that hard drive.
He shifted in the large leather chair, the aircraft droning softly through the dark, and studied his new bride reclined in a seat, talking on the plane’s phone. She’d just finished telling her father about their elopement, making him swear not to tell Jacqueline that he’d been called first.
And although this wasn’t a traditional wedding night by any measure, that didn’t stop him from aching to share a good old-fashioned honeymoon suite with Lauren.
The single-engine plane offered enough room to move around and a small galley kitchen, but no sleeping quarters other than the chairs that reclined all the way back.
His wife—he paused at the surprise jolt to his pulse at just the word—dialed again and pressed the phone to her ear. She tucked her legs up to the side, adjusting the folds of her teal-colored dress.
“Hey, Mom,” Lauren said, fine lines of stress and exhaustion fanning from the corners of her eyes. “Sorry to bother you so late, but I’ve got some really important news.” Her gaze flicked over to him briefly, brushing him like the tips of a flame crackling over his body. “Remember Jason Reagert… Right… you met him at my place last week. Well, he’s actually more than a friend. We just got married in Vegas….”
Jason thumbed the simple gold band on his finger. The wedding chapel had supplied it at the last minute, and he figured the ring would only help cement their case. He hadn’t expected to notice its weight quite so much.
Lauren continued, nodding. “Yeah, Mom, I know you would have liked a heads-up so you could attend. But, uh, prepare yourself for more amazing news. Time was kinda tight for us. We’re expecting a baby—”
A shriek sounded from the phone, followed by a long string of indistinguishable babbling. Lauren looked over at him briefly with a light wince before continuing. “I’m due in a little less than five months from now—No, I don’t know the baby’s gender yet—Uh, honeymoon? We have work… ” She stopped, interrupted for what must have been the tenth time.
“Mom, that’s really—” Sighing, she squinted her eyes closed while the voice on the other end rambled louder and louder.
Jason took the phone from her hand. Lauren gasped, but he wasn’t backing down. “Jacqueline? This is your new son-in-law, Jason, and I’m about to assert my marital rights. We’ll be turning off this phone until at least noon tomorrow.”
“But wait—” Jacqueline interrupted.
Jason interrupted right back. “Good night, Jacqueline.”
He turned off the phone.
“Wow,” Lauren said. “Just flat-out wow. I don’t know how to thank you for making that easier for me.”
He wanted to… Hell, he didn’t know what he could do to shield her from this sort of fall-out. “Are you all right?”
She smiled shakily. “At least that’s done now.”
“But are you all right?” he pressed.
“Of course.” She straightened, the effort of gathering her control so obvious and laborious he wanted to pull her to him.
Protect her.
But she radiated stand-back vibes.
Calling her parents really had her freaked out, beyond just tense family relations like he had. “What’s really going on here?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.” She toyed with her purse, avoiding his eyes.
“You’re obviously stressed over that phone call.” He stroked her chin, tipping her face toward his. “I realize your mother is, uh, wired rather tight, but I think I’m missing something.”
“I might as well tell you. You’ll find out, anyway, over the years since she’s the grandmother of your baby.” She gripped the armrests in white-knuckled fists. “My mom was diagnosed as bipolar at twenty-two.”
Damn. Not at all what he’d been expecting. “I’m really sorry. All this time we’ve known each other and you’ve never mentioned it.”
But then, he’d been equally dodgy about his own past, which probably accounted for why he’d never probed too deeply about hers.
She rolled her head along the rest to face him full on, her expression wry. “It’s not the sort of thing to come up in the workplace or during after-hour drinks—‘Hey, my mom’s manic-depressive.’”
What if he’d taken the time to talk to her more over the past year, to really listen, beyond discussing work and exchanging lighthearted banter? Could they have reached a point earlier where she would have shared this with him? He had no way of knowing, since apparently it took a forced marriage to coerce her into opening up.
He hadn’t dug more deeply before, but he’d be damned if he’d make the same mistake again. “You said she was diagnosed at twenty-two?”
“She’s been in and out of a doctor’s treatment for a long while.” Only going when her husband pushed or her daughter pleaded. “There were some good times when I was kid. But the past couple of years, she’s decided she doesn’t want to take any more of it—therapy or meds.” Lauren straightened the drape of her dress again and again, restoring order. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not whining. Growing up with those sorts of mood swings was difficult, sure, but I like to think I’m a stronger person for it.”
He respected the way she tried to put a positive spin on things, but he suspected Lauren had done that so often no one noticed when she needed help. “Still, it must have been beyond tough for you as a kid, never knowing what to expect.”
She plucked at a stray thread on the hem of her dress, nibbling Her bottom lip. “I used to worry I would be like her. Since she never seems to accept she has a problem, what if I’m just oblivious? I’ve even visited doctors—shrinks—to have myself evaluated.”
“And what did they say?”
She hesitated, folding her
