The Best Man's Baby (4 page)

He shook his head and closed his eyes, but not before catching Quinn turning around to hide his laughter.
Traitor.
“Holly. I’m not getting rid of the Harley.”

She smiled and crossed her arms in front of her. “How about the minivan?”

That word again. Maybe he was allergic to the word, because he felt the room start teetering again.

“You’re hyperventilating,” Evan said, though he didn’t look too concerned as he leaned back in his chair.

“What if you got one that said ‘Sport’ on the back? I’m sure that means it’s peppy.”

Jake stared at his beautiful sister-in-law and wondered when she had become so evil.

Quinn turned to Holly. Finally, the man was going to set his wife straight. “That’s a good idea, honey. Jake, really, it’ll have so much room for all the kid’s toys and the food shopping. And those car seats and strollers take up tons of room. And if you get leather seats, the baby vomit is easy to wipe up.”

He stared at the two of them.

Evan piped up. “And minivans are great when you start gaining that middle-aged family-man potbelly. Very forgiving.”

Jake touched his flat stomach absently. “Forget it. No flipping way am I getting a minivan! No, no, no. Thanks for nothing, guys.” He shot them all a dirty look and walked over to Ella.

“Bye, sweetie. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He ruffled her brown hair and gave her a quick kiss on the head.

“Wait,” she said, and then thrust a piece of paper up at him. “Dat’s Uncle Zake and Auntie Care.” Jake looked at the scribbles on the paper, aware that his niece had somehow come up with her own interpretation of what happened between him and Claire.

“Thanks, honey. I’ll be sure to hang this on my fridge, okay?” The entire front of his fridge was filled with pictures from Ella. This was the most interesting piece in the collection.

She nodded, pleased with herself.

He walked out of the kitchen with a final, pissed-off look in his brothers’ direction. Was he really mad at them? Okay, maybe not. He would have done the same thing if either of his brothers had done something as stupid as he had.

As he reached the front door he heard Holly call out his name. He sighed and turned around to face her.

“Jake, I’m sorry for teasing you.”

He shrugged. He deserved all of this. He deserved much worse than this. He was a total screwup, exactly like their father told him.

She came to stand in front of him, reaching out to touch his arm. “Claire is my best friend. She may come across like she’s got it all together, but she does need you. I’m not saying any of this to make you feel worse, it’s just you are someone….”

“Who got her pregnant and took off,” he said running his hands down his face.

She shook her head and touched his arm. “No, you are someone important to her.”

Jake stilled, waiting for her to continue. She didn’t. “What do you mean, because I’m the father of her baby?”

Holly shook her head and he could tell she wanted to say something more. “Never mind.”

“No way, Holly. You can’t start something and not finish it.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and bit her lip. “Claire wouldn’t have just slept with you if she didn’t have feelings for you.”

He stared at her and the reality of what she was telling him, coupled with what he already knew deep down, was undeniable. He jammed his hands into the pocket of his jeans. “I know,” he said roughly. “And now she can’t stand me.”

“She’s hurt and upset.”

He nodded. “This is all my fault.”

“Hey, it’s not over. Talk to her.”

“I tried. She kicked me out of her house.”

“Keep trying. Feelings don’t go away. Make it up to her. Get to know her, who she really is.”

He was surprised when she reached out to hug him. He hugged her back. His brother was a lucky man. Holly gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Okay, thanks for the advice.”

“Why don’t you get your hands off my wife and concentrate on the woman who’s pregnant with your child?”

Jake looked over at Quinn, who was grinning at him smugly.

“Don’t be such a jerk,” Holly said with a laugh.

“I’m just getting what I deserve,” he said with a wry glance at his brother, who was now standing next to Holly. “When you first came back to town, I gave Quinn a rough time.”

Holly smiled up at Quinn. “I’m sure he deserved it.”

Jake watched as his brother smiled and leaned down to kiss his wife. He was unprepared for the pang he felt in his stomach as he watched the obvious love between them. He needed to get out of here and fix his own life. He needed to get through to Claire.

He had to make it up to her.

…

Claire was trying hard to concentrate on the weddings she had to make flower arrangements for today and not on yesterday’s sorry events. She smiled at the employees bustling around the back room of her flower boutique and walked to the front of the store. She was late opening. She was never late. But this morning she just couldn’t seem to haul her sorry behind out of bed. Every time she’d sit up a wave of nausea would take over, and then she’d just flop her head back onto the pillow like a dying fish until it was under control. That had gone on for an hour. And sadly, even then, Jake was on her mind. She wanted to be as angry as she was last week with him, but after last night’s confrontation at her house she almost felt a little more compassionate. She would never forget the hurt look on his face when he realized she had shut him out of the baby plans. But what other choice did she have? He had disappeared. How was she supposed to know he’d want anything to do with a baby? And she
had
to start planning. If she didn’t plan, she felt out of control. And look at where her one night of out-of-control got her. No, she was back to living her predictable, orderly life. She could handle it all.

When she’d finally made it into work this morning, her staff had already started the grueling Saturday routine that was customary for high wedding season. Claire had walked in with her usual treat of coffee and muffins for everyone. She had one cup for herself, filled with steamed milk, just so no one would question why the coffee junkie was going without her usual fix.

She marched to the front door and flipped the
Closed
sign to
Open
.

Her heart lurched painfully and her body temperature skyrocketed when she saw Jake across the street, sitting on his motorcycle. He was staring at her, obviously waiting for her to open her store. He gave a short wave.

She couldn’t wave back. Her heart was slamming against her chest. Why was he here?

She flipped her sign back to
Closed
.
There, take the hint and go home
. The last thing she needed was Jake infiltrating her work space with his baby demands. And the look she gave him would have frozen a lesser man, but much to her disappointment, not him. No, Jake held her gaze as he got off his bike and walked across the street with his confident swagger. She broke into a sweat when he didn’t break her gaze and swallowed up the distance between them in two seconds flat.

He stood on the other side of the door and gave it a few languorous raps even though she was standing right in front of him. She glared at him and crossed her arms. Then she pointed to the sign. Childish as it was, she was not opening the door. He smiled, the smile that had surely scored him a multitude of women, including her. She was now immune, she told herself, ignoring the goose bumps of awareness prickling her arms. She just lifted up one of her eyebrows and smiled back, waved and walked away. She had work to do. Jake had had six weeks to talk to her. Too bad for him.

…

“Well
that’s
strange. Claire is always open by this time.”

Jake swallowed the curse about to erupt from his throat at the sound of Eunice Jacobs’s shrill voice in his ear. He turned to the elderly woman, amazed that even on the sunniest of days she was dressed in her infamous purple pineapple raincoat.

“Hi, Mrs. Jacobs,” he said tightly. He was about to find out just how fast the Red River gossip circle moved. Mrs. Jacobs was a good gauge. She usually had a stranglehold on the late-breaking news department.

She tilted her head and peered at him as though she were looking through a giant magnifying glass. “Do you know why Claire is closed?”

You’re looking at him
. “Nope.”

“Buying flowers for one of your pretty girlfriends?”

He sighed. “No.” What was with this town and their perception of him as some sort of Don Juan? At least it didn’t appear she’d heard about the burger-stabbing.

“And how are Quinn and Holly? You know I haven’t seen much of them and that adorable little niece of yours,” Mrs. Jacobs said, fishing as usual for some morsel of gossip she could feast on for endless hours of entertainment.

“They’re just fine, thanks.” He fixed his eyes on the inside of the store, desperate for any sign of Claire. He would willingly subject himself to Claire’s wrath over the incessant chitchat he was being forced to contend with.

“Are they thinking of giving Ella a little brother or sister? That would be nice, and well, Holly isn’t that young anymore.”

“I’m really not sure what their family-planning situation is, Mrs. Jacobs,” he said, trying his damnedest not to roll his eyes at the inappropriate question.

He pounded on the door, desperate for salvation.

Claire emerged from the back room with large vases in her hands. Jake made eye contact and tilted his head in the direction of Mrs. Jacobs. He could see the irritation play across Claire’s face. He couldn’t help the slow smile of victory that overwhelmed him. Old Eunice had done him a favor—if Claire didn’t answer the door, the elderly woman would spread the news all around town that there was a four-alarm fire at Claire’s Flowers. Claire paused at the front desk, unloaded the vases, and then walked over to them. She glared at him and unlocked the door, the chimes jingling as he and Eunice barreled into the shop.

Eunice almost knocked him over as her arms flew out to her sides, narrowly missing a display of glass vases. “Well, my goodness dear, what happened? I thought for sure there was something wrong!”

“Just running a little late, Mrs. Jacobs. We have six weddings and Ann called in sick, so I’m going to have to close the store today,” Claire murmured while pushing the vases that had almost landed on the ground a little farther into the shelf.

Eunice sidled up to Claire until they were shoulder to shoulder. Jake stifled a grin as Claire took a small step in the direction of the door.

“Oh, well, are you feeling all right? You look a little under the weather.”

That was exactly what Jake was thinking as he leaned against the antique ivory cash desk watching the exchange. She had circles under her eyes and her skin looked very white. He was going to have to speak to her about working less. Maybe he could get a hold of one of her dry-erase markers and make a few adjustments to her flowcharts.

Claire glanced over at him and he could read the irritation in her eyes as he leaned against the cash desk, idly flipping through one of the bridal magazines. He pretended not to notice the
go-to-hell
look she sent him when he started humming the “Wedding March.”

“So, Mrs. Jacobs, how can I help you? Are you and Jake looking for anything in particular? A corsage perhaps, for the upcoming Red River Seniors’ Social?”

Jake’s hands stilled as Claire’s sweet-as-pie voice echoed through the shop and Mrs. Jacobs giggled like a schoolgirl. He slowly lifted his head to look at Claire. She was smiling with unbridled delight, her cheeks suddenly filled with color, her eyes alive and shiny…and Mrs. Jacobs was staring at him in a way that made him strangely uncomfortable, her wide eyes large behind her glasses and slightly glazed.

He grinned slowly at Claire. He had to hand it to her, he hadn’t seen that one coming. Claire raised her eyebrows at him, one corner of her delicious mouth turned upward in silent challenge.

It was nice to see her smiling, even if it was at his expense. And she kept on smiling until his eyes dropped to her mouth again and lingered, a little too long perhaps. Long enough for him to think about exactly how sweet she tasted that night. How full her lips were. How soft. And how she knew how to use her mouth. Jake rubbed his hand over his jaw, his forefinger grazing the bottom of his mouth, back and forth, and watched as her eyes followed his hand, her lips parting. Then her smiled wavered as he lifted his gaze to meet hers. Oh yeah, she knew exactly where his thoughts were, and he could tell she was getting just as rattled as he was with the silent reminiscing.

“So, what was it you were asking me about, Claire?” Jake asked, his voice intentionally low. He needed to get his mind off her mouth and onto the present challenge, or Claire would be marrying him off to Eunice Jacobs if he didn’t pay close enough attention.

“Oh, Jake darling, it’s so sweet of you to offer to buy me a corsage,” Eunice said. His eyes darted to Claire, who was back to smiling. “But I think Mr. Walters would not like that one bit,” Mrs. Jacobs said, wagging her index finger at him. Jake plastered a grin on his face for her benefit. He had no idea the two were dating. He hoped William Walters didn’t make it a habit of discussing business with Mrs. Jacobs.

Mrs. Jacobs was waiting for a reply from him, he realized, her smile not budging an inch. “Well, old William’s a lucky man, Mrs. Jacobs,” he said, forcing himself to stay calm.

She giggled.

Claire rolled her eyes.

“Well, at least let me pick up the tab for your flower order, Mrs. Jacobs.”

“No, no, dear—”

“Oh, come now, Mrs. Jacobs, Jake is quite used to buying ladies flowers. In fact, he has a running tab here with us,” Claire said.

Jake bit back a laugh. She had nerve, and attitude.

“Really, whatever it is, put it on my tab,” he said, smiling at the elderly woman. He wandered around while Mrs. Jacobs chattered about needing flowers for a bridge party. He walked into the back room. His jaw dropped when he walked into the bustling open area. There were at least ten employees scurrying around and more flowers than he’d ever seen in any one place. The back delivery doors were wide open and white vans with the Claire’s Flowers logo in pink were all lined up and being loaded. People buzzed around him, working efficiently and quietly. It had the atmosphere of a well-run assembly line, but with more energy.