A Baby Under the Tree (8 page)

“All right, but where?”

“Just outside the diner. We can check out some of the shops on Main Street. I think you'd enjoy that. You might also be surprised at how much fun it is to people watch in this town.”

Jillian blessed him with a pretty smile. “That sounds great.”

It did? That was better news yet, especially since Shane planned to convince Jillian that Brighton Valley wasn't just a little Podunk town.

And that it would be an ideal place to raise their child.

J
illian and Shane spent the evening window shopping along the main drag of Brighton Valley. Along the way, she'd also met some of the more colorful citizens who called the small town home, like Anson Pratt, who sat outside the drugstore, whittling small wooden animals to give to the kids in the pediatric ward at Brighton Valley Medical Center.

On several occasions, her shoulder had brushed against Shane's. Each time it happened, she'd been tempted to slip her hand into his.

She'd been alone for months, determined to create a home for her baby while she chased her dream to teach. And now, as she strolled along one of Brighton Valley's quaint, tree-shaded streets, she relished Shane's musky
scent and the soul-stirring sound of his soft Southern drawl.

With each step they took, the memory of their lovemaking grew stronger, triggering an almost overwhelming sense of sexual awareness and urging her to reach out to him, to take whatever he had to offer.

Instead, she continued to walk by his side, convinced that she needed to fight temptation. After all, she might want to pin her hopes on him as her lover and her baby's father, but it was way too soon for that.

What if it was all an act? What if he was only playing the part of a nice guy?

It was a risk she wasn't willing to take this early in the game.

Yet that didn't mean she wasn't enjoying their evening as they toured the shops, chatting about things as Shane gave her his tour. She'd especially found it interesting to learn that Darla Ortiz, who owned the hair salon, had been a Hollywood actress back in the day.

“Darla has a wall full of framed, black-and-white head shots of various movie stars who were popular forty and fifty years ago,” Shane said, “and each one is autographed to her.”

“That's so cool! I'll have to make an appointment while I'm here, just so I can see those photos.”

“Do you like old movies?” he asked, as if he'd just uncovered an interesting bit of Jillian trivia.

“My grandparents raised me, remember? So I spent a lot of time watching the classics on television.”

He grew pensive for a moment, then turned to her and brightened. “If you don't mind spending a quiet
evening at home, I can see if there are any good movies on TV.”

“Sure. That sounds good to me.”

Once they were back at the apartment, Shane reached for the remote and clicked on the television. Then he surfed the channels, pausing momentarily to catch a baseball score.

“I'm not finding anything too exciting,” he said, “but there's an old Cary Grant movie that will be starting in a couple of minutes. Are you up for something like that?”

“Which one is it?”

“
Father Goose,
with Leslie Caron.”

“Ooh, that's a good one.”

“You don't mind seeing it again?”

“Not at all.”

Jillian wasn't sure how Shane actually felt about spending the evening watching classic movies, especially one he might consider a chick flick, but she'd find out soon enough.

After placing the television remote on the glass-topped coffee table, Shane went into the kitchen. A few minutes later, the microwave hummed. Before long, a popping sound let her know that he was making popcorn. She smiled at the thoughtful gesture.

“I'm going to make a root beer float,” he called, as he opened the freezer door. “Would you like one, too? I can also give you plain ice cream or something else to drink.”

“Are you kidding? I'd love one. I haven't had a float since my grandfather died. Do you need some help?”

“Nope. I've got it.”

As the movie began, they took seats on the sofa, with the bowl of popcorn between them and root beer floats in hand, and soon fell into the story.

Shane laughed in all the appropriate spots, which Jillian took to mean that he found the old movie as entertaining as she did. But even if that wasn't the case, she had to give him credit for being a good sport.

The film was a classic romantic comedy at its best, and as Jillian reached into the popcorn bowl, her fingers brushed Shane's, sending a rush of heat up her arm.

As she glanced at him, she caught him looking at her.

For a moment, the only romance she could think about was the one brewing between her and Shane, especially since it was nearing the witching hour for lovers.

Not midnight, of course, but bedtime…

“Sorry,” she said, conjuring up an unaffected smile.

“No problem.”

As their gazes locked, as the sexual awareness that buzzed between them grew almost deafening, she broke eye contact and returned her focus to the television screen. Yet even though she pretended to watch Cary and Leslie with the interest of an avid fan, it took ages to get back into the story.

When the credits began to roll on the screen, Shane got to his feet. “Are you up for another movie? Or maybe a game of cards?”

She smiled, realizing the next two weeks might
prove to be more pleasant than either of them had thought.

“Actually,” she admitted, “I didn't sleep very well last night, and I'm fading fast.”

“All right. You take the room. I'll fix a bed on the sofa.”

While she was tempted to object and tell him that she didn't mind sharing the bed with him, she wasn't sure she would be able to climb between the sheets and face the wall when he was just an arm's reach away. So she clamped her mouth shut and watched him pull a blanket and pillow out of the linen closet.

“You can have the bathroom first,” he said. “I'll use it when you're finished.”

“I won't be long.” As she headed for the bedroom to get her makeup bag and nightgown, she realized she ought to be grateful for Shane's concessions and his obvious attempt to make her feel welcome and at home.

But for some reason, as she prepared for bed, disappointment settled over her at the thought of sleeping alone.

 

Jillian might have turned in early last night, but she'd lain in bed for hours, unable to sleep.

Just knowing that Shane was mere steps away had driven her crazy, and the fact that he'd been so sweet to her had only made it worse. He'd treated her with nothing but kindness and respect ever since the night they'd first met, and it was difficult to imagine him as a police officer who'd overstepped his bounds and assaulted a suspect in custody.

Of course, she didn't know that he'd done anything wrong. After all, the article she'd read said that he'd been reinstated. So that probably meant he'd been innocent of any wrongdoing.

She'd been tempted to bring it up, to ask him about it, but she'd decided to wait for her friend to report back with more details. Then she could come to her own conclusions about the man who'd shown her only kindness and understanding.

Or was she missing something?

In spite of him having a gentle side, did he resort to violence when frustrated, angry or provoked?

Thomas had on occasion, and it had been a little frightening. So even though Jillian found it hard to believe that Shane had a similar trait, the question was too important to ignore. Yet by the time she'd fallen asleep at two in the morning, she hadn't been any closer to having an answer.

And now, as she threw off the covers and rolled out of bed, she glanced at the clock on the bureau, only to realize it was after eight. So she slipped on her robe and padded into the living area.

The aroma of brewing coffee and sizzling bacon filled the air, taunting her taste buds. But that was nothing compared with the stirring ache of hunger she felt at seeing Shane move about the small kitchen, balancing his time between the skillet of breakfast meat and a mixing bowl into which he was cracking an egg.

Thomas wouldn't have been caught dead in a kitchen, let alone cooking. But then again, he'd grown
up with a full household staff that had been quick to handle his every need.

Jillian placed a hand on her growing tummy and caressed the swell of her womb. If she and Shane ended up with a shared-custody arrangement, would he go to this kind of trouble for their child? She hoped so.

Before she could utter a cheerful, “Good morning,” she watched him grimace and stroke the back of his neck, kneading the muscles from the top to the bottom.

“What's the matter?” she asked.

He turned, clearly not aware that she'd been watching him, then his hand lowered and a smile burst across his freshly shaven face. “Hey! Good morning.”

“You were rubbing your neck. Does it hurt?”

“It's not that bad. I just slept on it wrong.”

She wasn't exactly buying that, since he'd probably been cramped on the sofa and hadn't been able to stretch out all the way.

“I'm sorry,” she said.

“About what?”

“Not letting you have the bed.”

“Don't give it another thought. I fall asleep watching TV all the time, so when I bought that sofa, I made sure it was comfortable.”

Yes, but would it have hurt to let him stretch out on the bed beside her? Sleeping together didn't mean they had to have sex.

Had to?

Yeah, right. Making love with Shane Hollister would be a privilege, not a chore.

As the sweet memories of their one night together
rose to the surface, tempting her, taunting her, she tamped them down the best she could. Those were dangerous thoughts for a woman who didn't want their relationship to be complicated.

Maybe she should just wait and see what the day would bring.

“I'm making hotcakes and bacon for breakfast,” Shane said, turning back to his work. “I hope that's okay. I also have cereal in the pantry and yogurt in the fridge—if you'd rather have something else.”

To be honest, she would prefer to eat something lighter than pancakes, something with fewer carbs and less sugar. But how could she tell him that when he'd tried so hard to surprise her this morning?

So she said, “Hotcakes sound great. I'll have cereal and fruit tomorrow morning.”

“All right.” He turned the fire down on the bacon, then reached into a drawer for the egg beaters. “Would you like some coffee?”

“I've cut back on caffeine, so I'll just have a glass of orange juice, if that's okay.”

“Of course. It's in the fridge.”

She made her way to the kitchen area, opened the refrigerator and scanned the full shelves until she found a carton of OJ.

“You know,” Shane said, while she carried the juice to the counter and reached for a glass. “I was thinking about something that might be fun to do today. How would you like to ride out to the lake? We could pack a lunch, maybe do some fishing.”

“Sure.” She'd had a good time when they'd strolled
down Main Street last night. And being outdoors on such a lovely summer day was very appealing.

As she poured the juice, she asked, “Do I have time to shower before breakfast? I'll make it quick.”

“Take your time. I can keep everything warm.”

Less than an hour later, after they'd eaten breakfast and made a lunch of turkey sandwiches, grapes, chips and bottled water, they climbed into Shane's pickup and drove across town to the lake.

On the way, Shane pointed out the Brighton Valley Medical Center, as well as the new elementary school.

“The older kids have had to take the bus to Wexler for years,” he said, “but that'll soon be a thing of the past. They're going to build a new high school next year.”

Jillian nodded, as though he was just making casual conversation, but from the way he was singing the praises of Brighton Valley, she began to wonder if he was trying to sell her on the place.

She almost discarded the idea, then thought better of it.

Was that what he was trying to do? She had a feeling it was.

She stole a glance across the seat at the handsome cowboy's profile, which was enough to turn a woman's heart on end.

With an elbow resting on the open window, one hand on the wheel, his eyes on the road ahead and a boyish grin on his face, he didn't seem to be plotting and planning.

So she turned back to studying the passing scenery, the landscape and buildings.

Sure, the town was quaint and the people she'd met so far seemed nice. It was the kind of place she wouldn't mind visiting. But Jillian wouldn't want to move here. After all, her grandmother lived in Houston. And that's where the university was located.

It was one thing to take off a semester because she was due to have a baby, but there's no way she'd give up her plan to get a credential or her dream of teaching. Not again.

And there was no way she'd ever leave Gram all alone in the city, without any family nearby.

“Is there any chance you'd move back to Houston?” she asked.

“No, not at this point in my life.”

“Why not?”

He paused for a moment, and she assumed he might be planning to sing the praises of small-town life. Instead, he said, “It's complicated.”

She wondered if his move had anything to do with the reason he'd left the HPD, but his short, clipped answer was proof that he didn't want to discuss the details with her.

If that was the case, she'd let the subject drop for a while, but that didn't mean she wouldn't get the answer to her question, even if she had to draw it out of him—one word at a time.

 

After Shane parked in the graveled lot by the lake, he left the cooler with their lunch locked in his pickup,
then took Jillian on a leisurely walk along one of the many hiking trails.

“It's really pretty out here,” she said. “I'm glad you suggested we spend the day at the lake.”

“I thought you'd like it.” If truth be told, he hoped that she would see that Brighton Valley had a lot to offer her and the baby. Otherwise, Shane had no idea how he'd ever be able to establish a relationship with his son or daughter.

He might not have embraced the news when she'd first told him she was pregnant, and he might be afraid of what the future would bring, but if he was going to be a father, he wanted to be a part of his child's life.