but they were still wet enough to make her feet feel slippery. And cold. She’d assumed Texas would be warmer and drier. Now she was mentally and physically uncomfortable. She took another deep breath and peered inside the house.
The windows were dark and looked rather intimidating beneath the leaden sky, but she wasn’t going to let rain or her imagination stop her from talking to the man with whom she’d spent one spectacular weekend almost five weeks ago. He’d been a blind date, but a fantastic one. They’d shared an immediate attraction—and much more—for two and a half days in Monte Carlo.
She’d hesitated long enough. After placing a hand on her stomach, she rang the doorbell. And waited.
And waited. Where was Travis? She’d called from the airport but had hung up as soon as he’d answered. Calling had been a mistake. She couldn’t talk to him on a crackling, staticky cell phone during a thunderstorm. What she had to say needed to be said in person, so she’d driven here as quickly as possible from the San Antonio airport.
“Where are you, Travis Whitaker?” she whispered as she pressed the doorbell again then added a few knocks in case the electricity was out. The lunch crowd at a quaint diner in downtown Ranger Springs had told her how to find the ranch, and she had to assume he hadn’t left in the past hour.
Just when she thought she might have to search elsewhere on the property for the elusive architect, the door flew open.
“Jodie?”
“Hello, Travis.” She stared at his disheveled, sun-streaked hair, frayed University of Texas sweatshirt and faded jeans. His beautiful feet were bare. He looked so much like he had just after they’d made wild, passionate love that her heart skipped a beat.
“What are you—Never mind, that was rude, and not what I meant. Please, come inside.”
She leaned her umbrella against the house, shook more water from her sandals and slid past him into the warmth of his home. Mmm. He even smelled the same, like clean, warm male and Mediterranean sunshine, despite the rainy, cool Texas day.
“Can I get you something? You look a little cold.”
She wasn’t about to tell him she was shaking more from nerves than the weather. Instead she shook her head. “I’m fine.”
“Come into the great room. I have a fire going.”
She followed him down the slate-tiled hallway, her wet sandals slapping against the floor, like a prisoner being led to the gallows. Not that they really used gallows anymore. Not that she’d done anything wrong, or wanted to feel like a criminal…or a victim.
Not that she was so nervous that she was babbling inside her head. With each step, an unaccustomed sense of panic increased until she couldn’t stand the tension a moment longer.
“Wait,” she said, grabbing his arm as they reached the doorway. “I have something to tell you and I need to do it now, before we get comfortable in front of the fire.” Before he made her feel welcome in his home.
“What’s wrong?” He looked so handsome, so concerned, as he reached out to steady her. His hands felt strong and comforting on her shoulders, as if he’d reached out to her many times before. As if they’d had more than a couple of fantastic days together.
She wanted to wrap her arms around his neck, to hold him tight and to whisper the truth. But she needed to see his face, not retreat to his warmth and strength, when she broke the news.
“Not quite wrong, but…” she began. “Well, I’m not sure how you’re going to react, so I need to just tell you this. Right now, right here.”
“What’s going on, Jodie?”
She took a deep breath, then the words rushed past her cold, trembling lips. “I’m pregnant. The baby is definitely yours. And we need to get married right away.”
He looked as stunned as she’d felt when the doctor had confirmed the pregnancy kit test result. America’s new “girl next door” was going to be an unwed mother unless she could get Travis Whitaker’s immediate cooperation.
“PREGNANT?” he repeated, dropping his hands from her shoulders and stepping back. His immediate joy that she’d arrived in Ranger Springs, coupled with surprise that she’d sought him out, came to an abrupt halt. He felt as if he’d been poleaxed. Him, a father?
But he shouldn’t be all that surprised. They’d used protection all but one time, when she’d surprised him in the shower. He hadn’t been prepared for her sexy smile, her slippery, soft skin and very talented use of a body puff. In so many ways Jodie was unlike any other woman he’d been involved with.
“Yes, pregnant,” she said. “I know I said we should be okay, that it was a safe time of the month, but apparently I was wrong.”
“I—I don’t know what to say.”
She narrowed her eyes and placed her hands on her curvy hips. “You don’t have to say anything, but I’m hoping I can get your cooperation. Travis, this is important to me.”
“Having a baby is rather important to everyone involved, wouldn’t you say?” he asked with barely controlled sarcasm. What did she mean, it was important to her, when she’d just dropped a bombshell on him and added that they needed to get married right away?
“Look, I know you’re shocked and disappointed—”
“With all due respect,” he interrupted, running a hand through his shaggy hair, “I don’t think you know me well enough to decide what I’m feeling.”
She stepped back, turning a little pale beneath her golden, California-girl tan. “Okay, I understand your position. I’d just go away and leave you alone, but—”
“I didn’t ask you to leave.”
“You don’t seem especially glad to see me, either. Which I can understand, given what I just told you.”
“I was—am—glad to see you. But you did throw me for a loop. You certainly don’t mince words, do you?”
“Not on anything this important.”
He ran his hand through his hair again, wishing they could start over. “Look, let’s go sit down and talk like reasonable adults. The fire is warm and, quite frankly, you look as though you need to sit down.”
“Great. Just the look I was going for—helpless female.”
“Jodie, I don’t think anyone would call you helpless, or weak, or any other unflattering adjectives. But you are definitely female.”
When he’d first met Jodie, he’d been pleasantly surprised. His friends had mentioned she was a model who’d just finished a swimsuit photo shoot in Monaco. He’d been expecting a silicone-enhanced, tall, tanned, self-indulgent, waiflike creature. Not his usual type of petite, acquiescent woman, but heck, he was flexible. What red-blooded American male would turn down a date with a swimsuit model? Then he’d met her in a café in Monte Carlo and he’d immediately known he’d gotten her all wrong.
Jodie wasn’t just a swimsuit model. She was a famous model, a minor celebrity. And she wasn’t just a regular model. She was a plus-size
