The Best of June (24 page)

Henry began walking slowly toward her, as if stalking prey. “And what about
your
want?”

“I want the same.”

Henry stopped in front of her. They were close enough that June could see the darker Nordic blue ring and fleck in his eyes. They were so unusual June couldn’t take her eyes off them.

“You want the same, June? No, no. Honey, you opposed the idea of us getting married. Your idea is to keep me out of the picture. You weren’t thinking about the baby’s reputation.”

Think, June. Think. He mustn’t know your reason.
“I understand my parents’ decision and I agreed. The way I see it, we both benefitted from my actions.”

“Are you saying that the baby is your benefit?”

“Yes.”

Henry stared at her for a few seconds before dipping his head a little. But then he pulled back.

For a moment, she thought he’d kiss her. “I’m keeping my word, Henry. I won’t expect anything from you. If living with Stacey is what you want, you won’t hear me object. If you decided to serve me tomorrow, I’ll sign the papers. But if you prefer to remain my husband, for however long you want, I’ll be here.”

June took the slow, sad walk upstairs. The bitter jealousy that had stirred inside her when Henry had admitted that he was still seeing Stacey was nothing compared to the pain that had sliced her deeply when she’d noticed that his wedding band was gone. As tears choked her, she realized one thing. Henry would never be hers.

Chapter Sixteen

She wants a baby. That’s why she slept with me.
Henry watched June leave the kitchen. Why did she want a baby out of wedlock? He doubted that she was concerned about her biological clock ticking. So why?

He turned off the lights then he too left the kitchen. Damn, he truly enjoyed talking to June when he set aside his anger. He actually saw a glimpse of what it could have been like being married to her. She was easy to get along with. He loved her sense of humor and—fuck it to hell—he loved watching her move about in the kitchen. He shouldn’t, but he even imagined her when she was heavy with their baby, waddling instead of walking, her breasts full and June looking so radiant. He imagined making love to her.

He wanted her.

When he’d gone to visit Stacey earlier, he had planned to stay overnight. Thought about making love with her too. But Stacey had spotted his wedding ring. She had insisted that he take it off. To avoid having an argument, he’d removed it He remembered putting it on the dresser on top of his wallet. It hadn’t been there anymore when he got up to go to the bathroom. He’d searched for an hour for the wedding band while Stacey followed him around ranting and raving about why he would even bother looking for the damn thing. She was right. He shouldn’t care, but for some fucking weird reason, he wanted the ring. Then Stacey had started drinking. Alcohol and Stacey never went well together.

So he’d decided to leave. He’d thought he’d find a dark, cold home. But like June had said, she’d left the light on. As soon as he’d opened the door, the heavenly scent of bananas and something fried had welcomed him. Even though he’d already eaten, his mouth had watered. Then he’d found his wife in the kitchen talking to herself. Well, actually she was talking to her belly. She looked tiny still, and so lovely in her simple dress, that he’d wanted to wrap his arms around her from behind. Then his cock had thickened.

He’d wanted her.

He touched the base of his ring finger again with his thumb. It had only been two days, but he’d already acquired a habit of rolling it with his thumb. Now, funny though it may sound, he missed the damn thing.

The simple white-gold band for him and a wedding ring dotted with three small diamonds for June were the first rings that he’d spotted at the jewelry store. He hadn’t cared to look around. He’d just bought the two. His entire wedding outfit had cost more than the rings, but the look on June’s face when she’d seen it was priceless. She’d ogled his ring too. Now it was gone.

Standing at the foot of the stairs, he scanned the room. Fresh flowers in vases, gauzy curtains hung on rods, throw pillows and blankets lay on the sofa, and paintings hung on the walls just as she’d said. No knick-knacks, though.

He turned off the lamp next then went upstairs. Remembering what June had said about her grazing like a cow brought a smile to his face. She’d be a beautiful cow.

A lamp at the end of the hallway was lit and so was the light in one of the bedrooms. June’s.

She’s still awake?

Trying not to make too much noise, he stood in front of the door and listened. Awful retching sounds reached his ears.
Damn, she’s sick.
“June?” he called. No answer. “June, it’s me.” He turned the doorknob. It wasn’t locked. While knocking, he opened the door. “June, can I come in?”

“No!” June said in a hoarse tone.

“You okay?”

“Go away! Please.”

“Can I help?” The reply he received was another retching sound. “I’m coming in,” he opened the door and quickly swept the room with his gaze. The bed had a light green bedspread on it. The matching solid green pillowcases with ruffles on the ends looked inviting. A small dresser stood against the wall supported one silver frame sitting on top of it. He couldn’t tell what was in the frame, but it was black and white. Someone had placed a small table in front of the window. There were stacks of different colored envelopes and papers on it. Henry guessed those were the wedding cards. A simple room. No clutter, no overpowering scent of perfume in the air, and he noticed too that she didn’t have jewelry or anything on the dresser, unlike Stacey.

He went to the bathroom and found June hugging the toilet, her unbound hair falling like a waterfall around the bowl. “Honey, that’s not the proper way to use the toilet.”

“Funny,” she said in a small voice.

“You cooked all those awesome foods then you just throw them up? What a waste. No wonder you’re skinny.”

“Go away. Don’t want you here.”

“Tough. I’m already here.”

“Please. Leave me. I look horrible.”

“I know. You’re scary looking right now. You done?”

June nodded but she didn’t move.

“Let me help you up.”

“Go away. I smell like puke.”

“Hon, I worked with seamen who got really sick on a boat.”

“They shouldn’t be working on a boat.”

“True. But you can’t reject them for that.” He spotted a hair tie on top of the water tank. He gathered June’s hair then used the tie to bind the thick mass of silky-smooth curls. As gently as he could, he massaged her neck.

“Thank you,” June replied in a small voice. She closed the toilet lid then pushed the flush.

“Come on.”

He helped her get up. She looked pale. The dark rings beneath her eyes were more pronounced. Wrapping his arm around her waist to steady her, he pulled a towel from the rack. “You okay?”

June nodded. “Do you need anything? Your bed is ready. I hope you like blue.”

“Barf green is my favorite color.”

June smiled. “Sorry, we don’t have that color in the number of towels that we got from the wedding.”

“All right. Blue will work.”

She closed her eyes and took long deep breaths. “Thank goodness. I don’t think I have the energy to change your sheets and towels.”

“You didn’t have to fix my room.” He turned on the faucet then wet the edge of the towel. “Here, you have puke all over your face.”

June opened her eyes. A lovely shade of pink colored her cheeks. “Oh, dear.” She tried to move away, but he tightened his hold on her waist.

“I’m just kidding. Do you want to rinse your mouth?”

“Yes.”

He let go of her, but stayed on his spot until June finished rinsing. Then he surprised her when he bent down to pick her up.

“What are you doing?”

“Carrying you to bed. You look sick and fragile, hon. You’ve lost weight since the last time I saw you. You need to eat.”

“I told you I eat like a cow.”

“I didn’t see you eat at all at the wedding.” She weighed nothing, and contrary to what she believed, she smelled like soap and cleanliness—like a woman.

“Because there were so many people watching me. I was afraid I might chew my bone and embarrass you.”

“Silly thing to think about. Who cares what other people think?

The bed was turned down. It looked like she had already been in bed but had had to go to the bathroom. Damn. He’d forgotten about her condition. Seeing how fragile she looked, something tugged at his heart. Angry or not, she was his wife. “How’s your stomach?”

“Feels sour and empty.”

Henry placed her in the middle of the bed, tugged the covers from beneath her legs and covered her with them. “Are you going to sleep now?”

“As soon as little Jelly Bean lets me sleep.”

“’Kay. Be right back.” He sprinted down to the kitchen and checked the pantry for any kind of soup. They were easy to find. Everything was in order. It was like shopping at the grocery store. Cans of chicken noodle soup lined the bottom shelf of the pantry. He grabbed one and pulled the lid off. Next, he poured it in a bowl. Instead of heating the soup on the stove, he used the microwave. Five minutes later, he was back in June’s bedroom. He placed the bowl of soup on the bedside table.

She lay on her back, eyes closed, one hand laid protectively on her belly. Her hair partly covered her eyes. Henry could see the rapid beating of her pulse in her throat. He took the chance to observe her. She looked so young and beautiful. Why was it that she wanted this baby so badly that she’d had to hide her condition from her parents until she hadn’t been able to hide it anymore?

What are you hiding, baby?

Craig annoyed him to no end with his phone messages, but the bastard had also given him a bit of information about June. The man had seemed in agony even before June had gotten pregnant. Something had happened that had made June sleep with Henry. And he was itching to find out what it was.

“Hon?” The bed dipped a little as he sat on the edge.

June’s eyes fluttered open. “Yeah.”

“Sit up, baby.”

“Why?”

“Got you a bowl of soup. Eat it so you have something to throw up later.”

“Thank you.”

“I thought pregnant women are sick only in the morning? That’s why they call it morning sickness, right?”

“Whoever invented the word morning sickness must have been a man—or a woman who had never experienced being pregnant,” she snapped.

“All right, Grumpy Grumpington. Eat so you can sleep. Open.” He held the spoon to June’s mouth, but she turned her head away.

“I can feed myself.”

“I don’t think so. You said you don’t have any energy at all. Come on.”

With a frown, June opened her mouth. He fed her the soup until it was all gone.

“Thank you. My stomach feels better now.”

“Good. Now sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight.” June lay back then turned on her side away from him.

Henry covered her with the blanket, watched his wife sleep for few minutes then went to his room. Any man would rejoice to score a wife like June, would most likely never let her out of his sight and spend every fucking waking moment making love to her. But he wasn’t any man. He was a man June had chosen to father her child, one who had signed a contract in exchange for money, and who would file for a divorce once their baby was born. No, he was no ordinary man—but a fucked-up one.

Henry lay on top of the bedspread. His bed felt comfortable, the sheets soft and clean smelling, not perfumy at all. He should sleep, but he was wide awake now. His mind filled with thoughts about his wife.

Putting his hands behind his head, he wondered whether he’d made a big mistake signing the contract.

Little Jelly Bean, as his wife called their baby, would be as beautiful as June was and would grow up without a father when he left them. Could he really leave June and their baby? But the contract…fucking contract, stated that he must not have any contact with the Greenwalds once June had delivered Jelly Bean. When he’d signed it, he’d relinquished his right to see their baby. At the time, he hadn’t cared at all. Now…damn. What the hell was he going to do?

Sighing, he admitted the fact. He’d love their baby unconditionally. His heart thumped at the thought of a little boy or girl running around chasing a dog. For the first time since he’d learned that he’d fathered a child, excitement claimed him. He was actually looking forward to the birth of his first baby. The Greenwalds seemed to be reasonable people. He would talk to them. Maybe they’d change their minds and would let him have rights to see Jelly Bean. Now, his parents… Dad would understand. He’d have six months to convince him. Yeah, he would do that.

Six more months and he’d see the baby. Six more months and he’d be single again and his bank account fatter. It sounded great, but why did it feel like he’d just swallowed a big rock?

Chapter Seventeen

When Henry joined June in the kitchen, bacon was already cooling on the plate and she was slicing strawberries. It was six in the morning and yet the man managed to look as if he’d been on a fashion shoot for hours. Lord, did she really marry a hunk of deliciousness.

“You feel okay this morning?” He padded barefoot into the kitchen.

“Yes. Thank you for helping me last night.”

“You’re welcome. Do you always get up this early?” He picked up a slice of bacon and started checking everything on the counter.

“Six o’clock is not early. Besides, life is way too short to spend it in bed.”

“Way too short according to Browning?”

“According to me,” she repeated.

“To some, I suppose.”

“Yup. I’d rather do something with my time and be productive.”

“You can do something productive while in bed.” Henry grinned.

Did she hear a hint of sexual innuendo in his tone? A flush heated June’s face. “Like what? Knit and watch TV?”

“Yup. Exactly what I was thinking.”

June laughed. “If you say so. I can’t abide wasting my time being lazy. I might not get lucky again and not see the next day, so I’d rather do things now. Like making puffed pancakes. I hope you like puffed pancakes.”