The Best Man's Baby Read online

  Her father squeezed her shoulder and the three of them walked into the house. When they had settled in the kitchen, her tulips in the sink, her mother opened the box and pulled out a large piece of cheesecake topped with bright-red strawberries. Claire’s eyes went from the cake to her mother’s face. In all her life, she had never seen her mother hold something so decadent.

  “I thought maybe we could share a treat together. Your father is home, and becoming grandparents is something to celebrate,” her mother said with an awkward smile that made hope bloom in Claire’s heart. Her mother stood to get forks and then gingerly settled across the table from her again. Claire looked over at her father. This was too easy. Way too easy.

  “Are you happy you’re going to be grandparents?” Claire stared at her father.

  “We are very, very happy, Claire,” her mother said, her eyes filled with more emotion than Claire had seen in her entire lifetime.

  “I’m glad.”

  She clasped her hands together nervously as she looked to her father. “Dad?”

  “Do you love Jacob?”

  Claire nodded rapidly.

  Her father nodded. “He’s a good man.”

  “I never knew you had such a close relationship.” Claire stood to open the window over the kitchen sink, needing some fresh air. A warm blast of sunshine-filled spring air greeted her and she took a deep breath before sitting down at the table.

  “I know him very well. One of the finest men I’ve ever met. And I’m proud to have him as a son. If you get around to accepting his proposal,” he said with a wink.

  Her heart ached. “You’ve seen him?”

  He braced his forearms on the table and leaned forward. “I did. And he showed me around that house and told me you refused his marriage proposal.”

  “A lot has happened since then.. How did he look?”

  “Worried, but I think he’ll figure it all out.”

  “Did he say anything else?”

  Her father smiled and patted her hand. “Be patient and have faith in him. Right now, I need some of that cake,” he said with a wink.

  “Would you like some cake, dear?” her mother asked hesitantly.

  “Thank you, but I really don’t feel like anything sweet. Actually, the thought of dessert has been making me queasy lately,” Claire said with a little smile.

  “Oh, I remember when I was pregnant with you, all I craved were salads and carrots.” Claire resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Seriously. Salad and carrots? Her mother quickly looked away, as though she were caught in a lie.

  She was very curious to see if her mother was actually going to take a bite of the rich cake. Claire’s father had already polished off half his slice. Her mother glanced down at the cake and then back up at her. Claire raised her eyebrows in a silent challenge.

  Her mother pursed her lips and slowly picked up a fork. She could have sworn she saw sweat begin to bead on her mother’s brow. Then her mother sat up a little taller in her chair and sliced through that piece of cheesecake flawlessly, like an Olympic diver into a pool. And then she raised it to her lips, paused, and slipped it into her mouth. Chewed it. Slowly. Swallowed. And then she smiled primly, blotting the sides of her mouth with a napkin.

  “My, that was wonderful, I couldn’t eat another bite.” She glanced back down at the cake and pushed the plate away. Her father grabbed the plate. Her mother quickly snatched it back and the three of them actually managed to share a laugh.

  “I wasn’t happy about the way we ended things the other day,” her mother said, looking down into her lap.

  The image of bread buns bursting out of her purse immediately entered Claire’s mind. She looked at her father from the corner of her eye. He must seriously be thinking all hell broke loose while he was gone.

  Claire cleared her throat. “Neither did I, but I don’t take back anything I said, Mom. As much as it hurt me to say it, and as much as it hurt you to hear it, I needed to get it out.”

  “I have to say, I had no idea you hated me so much,” her mother said, looking away forlornly, and then looking down at the cake.

  Claire felt a pang of guilt. “I don’t hate you. I can be mad at you and I can blame you for a lot of things that have happened, but I don’t hate you,” she said softly. She almost reached out to touch her mother’s hand when she saw tears suddenly appear in her mother’s eyes.

  “I’d like to try to explain a little of where I was coming from. After our lunch the other day I did a lot of reflecting about my life, my life with your father, with you. I was raised by a woman who was strict, disciplined, and forceful in her opinions. I know Grandma died before you could really get to know her, but when I was growing up, my only option was to get married. And my mother drilled into me how important a lady’s appearance was. I had convinced myself she was right, because your father had noticed me.”

  “We had a one-night stand,” her father blurted out casually. And then had a bite of her mother’s cake.

  Claire inhaled sharply, looking back and forth between the two of them. Her mother looked mortified. Green and red and livid. Her father looked quite pleased with himself.

  “You are kidding me,” she sputtered. She picked up the fork and sliced into the piece of cake that was shrinking by the second.

  “Your father was very charming,” her mother said in a strangled voice. Then she grabbed the plate and took a giant forkful of dessert.

  “It’s true, I was.”

  She frowned at the two of them. She had never seen her parents banter. And flirt. Her mother was blushing.

  “Afterward we got married and then he decided to become a minister. It was his calling and I stood by him. But when he got his own congregation I slowly began to lose him bit by bit to his church. All I could hold on to was my looks. I thought somehow that would keep him interested in me. And then we had you. And we both adored you. But again, I lost a little bit of him to you. I wanted the best for you. I started out with the best of intentions, and then things started slipping. I had no idea how much damage I was doing. I am proud of the woman you’ve become. As different as you are from me, I am proud, and I am sorry,” her mother said, looking up at her with tears in her eyes.

  Claire felt the prickle of tears at the back of her eyes as she stared at her mother. She couldn’t erase the past, but this was a start. And she could forgive.

  “Thank you,” Claire said trying to smile.

  “And if you have a daughter…,” her mother said, dabbing the corner of her eyes with a napkin.

  “If I have a daughter, I never want to hear the word ‘fat’ enter my house.”

  “Claire—”

  “My daughter. My life. My rules.”

  Her mother snapped her mouth closed and Claire had no idea what was going through her mind as she wordlessly stared at her. “I think that’s perfect,” she said finally.

  “But first, you and Jake are getting married,” her father said. “Then I’m going back to Africa, and your mother is coming with me.”

  Claire’s mouth dropped open. “You’re going to Africa?”

  Her mother nodded, fidgeting with her fork. “It will be nice for your father and me to do something meaningful together.”

  “I’m looking forward to it,” her father said. “But of course, we’ll be back long before that grandbaby is due.”

  Claire smiled at both of them.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jake ignored the giant knot in his stomach and knocked on the door. He stared at the wreath, feeling like it was just yesterday he stood here waiting to ask them for advice about Claire. How much had changed in just a few weeks. He was standing here, prepared to blast away the last of his demons. He was here, not hiding anymore.

  He wasn’t surprised to see Evan’s BMW in the driveway.

  The door opened and Jake held his breath. He let out a little sigh of relief when Holly appeared, smiling gently at him. “Hi, Jake,” she whispered, ushering him in with a wave of her hand
. “I was hoping you’d come over,” she said and gave him a hug. Jake hugged her back, saying a silent prayer of thanks for bringing her into Quinn’s life. He knew neither brother would be welcoming him with a hug right now.

  “Thanks, Holly,” he said gruffly, feeling awkward.

  “Come outside. Quinn and Evan are on the patio, Ella’s napping,” she said, already walking down the hall. Jake followed her, feeling like he was on his way to his own execution. And maybe he was. Maybe Claire was wrong about people and love and forgiveness. But tonight he’d find out. This was his first step in trying to be the person he needed to be, for himself, for her, and for their baby. He knew he needed to be with her. He knew she was the only woman he ever wanted. But he needed to finish this chapter in his life before he could begin a new one.

  Holly held open the French door for him and he followed her outside. Quinn and Evan were sitting in the Adirondack chairs that were deep in the yard, close to the forest that bordered the property. Their backs were to them and he could see they were deep in conversation, each of them holding a beer. Jake stopped for a moment, gripped by the feeling he was an outsider. The urge to run consumed him until he felt like he was choking with it. He didn’t want to face this. He didn’t want to face them. But he didn’t want them to think of him as a traitor. What would be worse—what they thought of him now, or what they’d think of him a few minutes from now when he was done explaining? He took a deep breath of the crisp night air. Normally, the smell of the clean forest air would be invigorating. Tonight he barely noticed it.

  “Come on, Jake,” Holly said with a half smile and nudged him along.

  He gave her a nod.

  “Hey guys,” Jake called out as casually as he could as he neared his brothers. They both turned around in unison. Quinn broke eye contact fast and Jake’s step faltered for a second, but there was something in Evan’s strong gaze that urged him on.

  “I, uh, came because I owe you both an explanation,” Jake said, standing in front of them.

  Quinn pointed to one of the empty chairs. “Have a seat,” he said, taking a swig of beer.

  “I’ll go inside and give you guys some privacy,” Holly said, turning to leave.

  “No, Holly, I want you to stay too.”

  Holly smiled at him and went to sit in the chair beside Quinn. Jake didn’t really feel like sitting—it would be too comfortable and right now he was so tightly wound, he thought he’d snap if he had to sit in one spot. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at his brothers. Both of them looked guarded.

  “I, uh, I want to explain why I did what I did.” His brothers thought they knew everything about him, but this was going to shock them. “But before I get to that, I’ve got to tell you guys something about Mom and Dad.” He took a deep breath. “Did you guys ever notice how differently they treated me?” he asked. He already felt a burning sensation in his throat. He hated talking about this.

  Evan frowned. “You mean the way they disciplined you because you were always doing something stupid?”

  Jake fought his knee-jerk reaction to swear at Evan and walk away. That’s how his brothers saw him, and he’d let them think that for years. Jake clenched his teeth, forcing himself to stand still and shook his head. “Yeah, that’s what I thought for a long time, and then one day I figured something out. They treated me like that before I started getting into trouble. They treated me like that from day one. You remember that day we were fishing and I asked you what Dad said to you at night?” Jake asked, directing his question to Quinn.

  Quinn’s eyes bore into his, and the flash of recollection entered his eyes.

  “Vaguely,” Quinn said, leaning forward, frowning.

  “When I was ten I overheard Mom and Dad yelling about something. I was by myself in the house with them and listened in the hallway. Dad was yelling something about not listening to Reverend Holbrook.” Jake watched the confusion rip across his brother’s faces. “Mom kept saying there was no way she could do it. Then Dad said…” Jake paused, took a deep breath, and looked straight ahead into the forest, his eyes zeroing in on the deep, green velvet of trees instead of the expression he was about to instigate on his brother’s faces. “‘What do you expect me to do? I look at him and all I see is you being raped. You kept a baby made by a devil. I told you to have an abortion. Now look.’”

  Silence. Not a sound. Not even the wind interrupted the moment. He slowly tore his eyes away from the trees to look at his brothers. Quinn’s and Evan’s faces were white.

  Jake took a deep breath. He had done it. The worst was over. The truth was finally out.

  He slowly, haltingly explained the rest.

  …

  Jake let the wind pummel him, knowing it couldn’t knock him down—nothing could anymore. In the last day he had shed his demons, fought against the memory of his past, and emerged victorious, and now he was on his way to claim his destiny.

  Claire had been right about everything. His brothers didn’t blame him, and they didn’t look at him differently. Actually, it looked like they finally, truly understood him. Quinn and Evan had stood and the three of them had awkwardly embraced. And then Holly, who had been inconspicuously wiping away tears with her sleeve while he spoke, gave him the biggest, warmest hug. Quinn understood why he bought William’s company, but then his brother insisted that as of Monday morning, he was having the legal name of the company changed to Manning Brothers Construction. Jake agreed and followed up by saying he’d make W.W. Custom Homes a division of their company, and he’d be a partner with Quinn.

  Jake could never remember feeling such peace, and he knew it was because nothing was hidden anymore. He was accepted for who he was. His family loved him despite everything. And the only thing missing when he was standing there with his brothers was Claire. Claire had shown him that acceptance and forgiveness were easy with genuine love, and she had been right.

  Now he had to tell her he loved her.

  He didn’t love her out of duty, because there was a baby on the way, or because he was attracted to her. No, he loved her with everything he had, with pieces of him he didn’t know existed. He wanted to love her like she needed to be loved. He wanted to love her like the man he was supposed to be, the man he felt like when he was with her.

  The man she saw in him.

  …

  Claire looked over the employee work schedule one more time. She was trying to find a way to alter her store hours with minimal impact on everyone. Unfortunately she was operating with just half a night’s sleep. Her bed had felt empty without Jake in it. She wondered how she barely made it through one night without him, when she had made it her entire lifetime without him, because now she was in love with him.

  She stared at her red marker and almost smiled, remembering the night she’d shown Jake her plan A and plan B charts. Had that really only been a few weeks ago? Everything had changed. A few weeks ago, she thought Jake was a just a man looking for a good time. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

  She put the red cap back on her marker with a sigh. It was time to go home. She wasn’t accomplishing much anymore. Claire gathered her coat and purse and slowly made her way to the front of the store.

  Her feet and her heart skidded to a screeching stop. Jake was across the street, looking straight ahead, into the window. She tried to ignore the painful throbbing of her heart. She wanted to run out into the street, wanted him to say he loved her and take her to the house he’d found for them and start fresh. She wanted him to bury the past.

  She kept walking until she reached the door, holding his gaze. He gave a quick wave. Maybe it was in the way he was standing. Maybe it was in the unshaven appearance or the haggard look on his otherwise handsome face, but she knew he needed her. She opened the door. Warm spring air greeted her as she stepped out onto the street. With trembling fingers she locked up and turned around. Jake was making his way across the street. Claire met him halfway.

  “Hi,” Jake said, his voi
ce sending her heart into autopilot.

  “Hi,” she replied, letting her eyes travel over the length of him. He didn’t look well. He looked…tired.

  “Will you come with me?” he asked, the vulnerability in his face appealing to her heartstrings. Her eyes darted around the nearby parking spaces. His bike was nowhere to be seen.

  She gave him a puzzled frown. “Where are we going?”

  “I thought we could go to the house again.”

  Claire looked away.

  “Come on. You’ve got to at least listen to what I have to say,” he said in a low voice.

  “Of course I’ll listen to you.”

  He didn’t say anything. She shifted from one foot the other, waiting.

  “I really wish we weren’t standing on the road,” Jake mumbled, looking from side to side. They moved closer to the curb.

  “Fine. Where’s your Harley?”

  A twinkle appeared in his eyes. “My Harley is in the garage.”

  “Well, how did you get here?”

  “This,” Jake said, nodding with his chin toward a black SUV.

  “What’s this?” Claire asked, raising her eyebrows.

  “Ours.”

  She looked at the black Range Rover he was standing beside.

  “I bought it. This is the closest I get to minivans,” he said, cocking his head in the direction of the shiny SUV.

  Claire smiled at him. “I hate minivans.”

  “We were meant to be together, Claire,” Jake said, reaching out to grasp her hand. She unsuccessfully tried to ignore the way her entire body responded to his touch and his words.

  “Because we hate minivans?”

  “Well, that helps, but no,” he said taking her hand, sending a delicious warmth through her body. “When I saw you walk down the aisle at Holly and Quinn’s wedding, the second your eyes locked onto mine, I felt something happening. When we danced together, I knew I was in trouble, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to ever let you go. And then we went back to that hotel room, I knew I’d never get enough of you,” he said, his voice turning husky as he moved closer to her. Traffic buzzed by them, but she felt as though they were in their own world. She stared at him, needing more.