The Misconception (24 page)

“That’s a good one, Tracy. Did Jax feed you that line?”

“Actually,” Tracy said. “No.”

“It’s a good one anyway.” He took the broom from her and put it back in the closet. “Are you ready to go?”

“Go?” Had she heard him correctly? Did he really intend to take her home tonight? When she was wearing The Dress?

“Yeah. It’s past one o’clock. Don’t you have work tomorrow morning?”

Did she? Tracy’s mind had been so far away from the mundane details of everyday life that she had to search it for the answer. “I don’t have to be in until one o’clock, but I do have an anthropology class at nine.”

“Anthropology, huh?” He put his hand on her shoulder. The heat of it burned through her body, igniting her all over again, but he merely guided her toward the door. “I still don’t see you as an anthropologist. A beautician, yeah. An actress, sure. But if that’s what you really want. . .”

She nearly shouted that what she wanted, what she’d always wanted, was what she’d had. An unassuming little house in a working-class neighborhood in Arlington. A job as a beautician. And him.

The hand of the man who was no longer hers was still on her shoulder as he guided her out the front door of the house in which she no longer lived.

The night closed in on her and gripped her heart with darkness. Two out of three. She’d lost two out of the three things most important to her, and she didn’t have a clue as to how to get them back.

Chapter 16

Marietta smoothed the material of her black crepe skirt over her not-so-flat stomach and frowned at her reflection. She wasn’t one to preen in front of a mirror, but circumstances demanded it. After all, this would be her first date with Professor Robert Cormicle and she didn’t want to open herself up to any embarrassing questions.

Such as, “You don’t happen to be pregnant, do you?”

She turned sideways to the mirror. Over the skirt, she wore a lightweight Kelly green sweater that extended to mid-thigh. The ensemble should have hidden her condition, but a shrewd eye would be able to tell that her stomach poked out. Since the rest of her body was as thin as ever, that might give away her secret.

She couldn’t hide her condition indefinitely, but she wasn’t ready to broadcast it. With Jax living next door, she’d have just as hard a time convincing her followers she was practicing
Motherhood Without Males
as she did convincing Jax to leave her alone.

She moved to her closet, intending to get out one of her airy, comfortable dresses that provided the ultimate in poufy-stomach coverage. She was halfway there when the doorbell rang. Darn. Why hadn’t she remembered that Robert was always a full fifteen minutes early? She’d attended enough staff meetings to know that.

Throwing open her closet door, she pulled out her roomiest suit jacket, which just happened to be red. She took one more look in the mirror and grimaced. The red jacket combined with the green sweater made her look like the Grinch Who Stole Christmas. If Tracy had been home instead of working an evening shift, her fashion-conscious sister would be horrified.

The doorbell sounded again. Figuring Robert would have to live with the Grinch for an evening, she walked down the stairs. The additional weight she’d put on made her feel clumsy, and a pang of something that felt suspiciously like guilt hit her.

Would Robert have issued one of his repeated dinner invitations if he knew she were pregnant? Would she have accepted if she weren’t?

She thrust the bothersome questions out of her mind, plastered on a smile and threw open the door. The man standing there wasn’t what she expected. But then, Jax never had been, not from the first time she’d seen him in the airport terminal.

She tried to stop her eyes from sweeping the length of him, but it was as impossible as looking away from a work of art. Since she’d seen him naked in the hotel room, he’d kept his magnificent body covered by well-fitting, expensive clothes. That wasn’t the case tonight. He’d obviously been working out, because the long, ropy muscles of his legs were left bare by nylon athletic shorts and his impressive triceps exposed by a University of Michigan T-shirt. She swallowed so she wouldn’t drool and strove to gain control of herself.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” she said as the specter of their recent argument rose between them.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t expecting to come over here.” His ever-ready smile didn’t appear, and she found that she missed it. With a nod, he indicated the large box he was holding. “The UPS man asked me to sign for this when neither you nor Tracy was home this afternoon. Where do you want me to put it?”

For the first time, Marietta looked at the box instead of at Jax. It was imprinted with the name of a trendy mail-order catalogue, which meant that Tracy had undoubtedly ordered another batch of funky clothes. That didn’t bode well for her sister’s shifting relationship with Ryan. Some women gorged on chocolate when things weren’t going right. Tracy bought clothes. The more outrageous, the better.

“You can set it down here, inside the foyer.” Marietta stepped backward to allow Jax entry to her home. He did as she asked, not even bothering to close the door. When he straightened, he turned his very broad back to her, obviously intending to leave. But she didn’t want him to leave. Not yet.

“Jax,” she said before he could take a step. He went still. Tension knotted his back and shoulders, made the muscles of his neck go rigid. He didn’t turn around.

“Yes?”

She wet her lips. She hadn’t slept well the night before, worrying about his reaction to what she’d said, but she wasn’t certain how to put things right. As if they’d ever been right in the first place.

“About last night. About what I said in regard to the orangutan.” She paused. She was still talking to his back, which meant he didn’t intend to make this easy on her. “I didn’t mean to insult you. Even if you are almost twice the size of most females, that’s about all you and an orangutan have in common. For example, you don’t have an air sac hanging down from your throat. And your technique with the ladies is better. Okay,
much
better. An orangutan wouldn’t have stopped last night. You did.”

He turned around to face her, bewilderment imprinted on his perfect features. “Was there an apology in there somewhere?”

Marietta couldn’t come straight out and say she was sorry without divorcing herself from her long-held belief that the sexual habits of man were analogous to the behavior of their animal brothers. So she did the next best thing. She prevaricated. “Sort of.”

He shrugged his unparalleled shoulders, raised the corners of his flawless mouth. “Then I sort of accept your apology.”

She met his eyes, which had warmed considerably since she’d opened the door, then glanced away when her nerves jumped.

“Does this means we’ve sort of called a truce?” he asked.

“I think it’s more like a ceasefire.”

He laughed then, a rich, warm sound that made her smile, made her look at him again. Goodness gracious, he was magnificent. “Before you start firing again, have dinner with me.” He reached out and brushed some errant strands of hair back from her forehead. “I was just going out for a bite.”

Even though he’d probably take her somewhere that served vitamin-enriched gruel, Marietta was startled by how much she wanted to go with him. She bit her lip and cursed herself for giving into Robert’s persistent invitations. “I can’t.”

His eyebrows rose. “What if I let you choose the place and promise not to say anything about what you order? As long as you promise to ask for a glass of milk. You can’t skimp on the calcium.”

“You don’t understand,” Marietta said at the same time she heard a car door slam shut in front of her townhouse. Jax was so focused on her that he didn’t turn around. “I have a date.”

“A date?” Jax screwed up his forehead. “With who?”

Marietta moved her head to the side so she could look past Jax and pointed. “With him.”

Jax whipped around so fast he displaced some air, which whooshed over Marietta’s head and rustled some of the strands of hair she hadn’t managed to catch in her bun.

Robert walked gingerly toward them on his skinny legs. He lifted his too-large head, got a look at Jax, went as white as Ichabod Crane and dropped the bouquet of long-stemmed red roses he was carrying. Marietta didn’t blame him. How often did a man show up for a date and find an oversized, scowling hulk on the doorstep?

Robert probably did feel like the fictional character Marietta had long imagined he resembled from “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.” Ichabod Crane, the lanky, pasty-faced schoolmaster, vying against local hero Brom Bones for the affection of a woman.

That meant Jax would be Bones.

She tried to shoulder past Jax so she could help Robert pick up the scattered flowers, but Jax took a side step, preventing her from passing. She could only wait while Robert picked up the flowers himself and continued his journey to her door.

“Nice evening tonight, isn’t it?” Jax asked cheerfully.

Marietta gave Jax a sharp, sideways glance. The scowl was gone, replaced by a bright, suspicious-looking smile. He was up to something.

Robert raised his eyes to the sky, which was so covered with clouds it made the night appear gray instead of black. The wind whipped his thin, fair hair around his face. He looked unsure whether to agree or disagree. “I suppose,” he said finally, walking slower now. “Hello, Marietta.”

“Hi, Robert. This is—”

“Cash Jackson, but my friends call me Jax.” Jax thrust out a big hand. Robert hesitated a moment, then tentatively put his hand out. Marietta thought she saw him grimace when Jax squeezed. “Until we get to know one another better, you can call me Mr. J. And you are?”

“Robert Cormicle,” he said, his tone a bit bewildered.

“How do you know Marietta?” Jax slung an arm around her shoulders. Marietta tried to shrug it off, but Jax held tight. Robert seemed incapable of speech, so Marietta answered.

“Robert’s a colleague at Kennedy College who specializes in microbiology. He’s done some brilliant work in breaking down the biological composition of rare types of fungi.” She paused. “He’s taking me to dinner.”

“Cool,” Jax said, making Marietta suspicious all over again. “I travel so much it’s good to know Marietta has friends to keep her company when I’m not around.”

“Excuse me?” Robert croaked.

“You and Marietta are
friends
, right?”

Robert looked toward Marietta, who was too speechless with shock to help him out. “Well, um, yes, uh, of course,” he answered, then added. “Mr. J, sir.”

“Good,” Jax said heartily. “I’m glad we got that straight.”

“What are you talking about?” Marietta asked, this time managing to get out from under the umbrella of Jax’s arm. “What did we get straight?”

“That you and Robert are friends.” Jax smiled at Robert, then at Marietta. “You wouldn’t want him to get the wrong idea about this dinner considering your condition.”

“What condition?” Robert asked, his eyes wide.

Marietta thought about clamping a hand over Jax’s mouth, but her reflexes weren’t quick enough. She managed to jab him in the ribs with her elbow, but it didn’t do any good.

“We’re expecting, Marietta and I,” Jax said.

Robert looked shocked, then downright confused. “Expecting what?”

Marietta glared at Jax, silently trying to get him to shut up. But he patted Marietta right on her poufed-out stomach. “A baby. What else would we be expecting?”

Marietta closed her eyes as horror washed over her. How could Jax have blurted out the news when it was her body, and she wasn’t ready to tell?

“Marietta’s pregnant?” Robert asked.

“Yep. So do me a favor when you have her out tonight. She needs her rest so I want her home early.” He descended the steps, acting the part of the solicitous host. “Give me those flowers. I’ll put them in water so you two can hurry and get back.”

With the flowers in hand, he retraced the steps to where Marietta stood. She opened her eyes, narrowed them, stood on her tiptoes and hissed close to his ear. “The ceasefire is over, buddy.”