The Best Man's Baby Read online

  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.
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br />   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.

  He turned at the sound of quick footsteps. Claire was in the doorway frowning at him.

  “Please leave.”

  “Did Mrs. Jacobs get everything she needed?” he asked, not bothering to contain his grin. Claire crossed her arms, obviously trying to contain hers, because he could see her lips twitching. “You’ve got quite the business.”

  “What did you think, Manning, I sold roses all day to Mrs. Jacobs and went to church on Sundays?”

  Jake shifted his eyes away from hers guiltily. Uh, yeah, that’s exactly what he thought.

  She sniffed and lifted her chin. She picked up a clipboard on one of the stainless-steel counters and proceeded to immerse herself in whatever was on there.

  He cleared his throat, walking up to her. “No, I just didn’t think you ran such a big company.”

  “Well, I do. I’ve got six different churches to drive to and six different reception venues, so I don’t have time to talk right now.” She tucked a wayward strand of her silky hair into her ponytail and began moving around the room. He knew when he was being dismissed, but she wasn’t going to get rid of him that easily. He followed her as she picked up a different clipboard and walked around counting and touching flowers. He received a few curious glances, but he’d never been the kind of guy to really care if he made a scene or not.

  “Can I help?”

  “No.” She walked around him, asked an employee something about where some rose petals were, and then continued to ignore him. He followed her.

  He stood behind her and whispered in her ear. “I’m not leaving.”

  She sighed and turned around to look at him. They were standing a few inches apart, and for what had to be the hundredth time in two days he wondered how he’d never noticed her eyes. Big and bright, but with a soul that hinted at such emotion and fire, it filled him with the need to see how deep it went.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Helping.”

  “You have never been back here in all the years I’ve been in business.”

  “Things are different now. We’re having a baby.”

  “Shhhh!” He bit back another grin as she turned her head around wildly to make sure no one had heard.

  “Listen, you’re not getting rid of me. I’m here to help. Then when you’re finished, I’m going to take you out for dinner.”

  He saw her cheeks flush, then she shook her head. “I have a long day ahead of me. No time for any distractions.”

  “Perfect, so afterward you’ll need some time to relax. I’ll take you out to your favorite restaurant.”

  “You don’t even know what that is.”

  “Then you can tell me.” It was simple, really. He didn’t understand why that would upset her.

  “You should know what it is. In the Claire Holbrook world, the father of my child should know my favorite restaurant,” she whispered.

  “Just tell me and we’ll go,” he said with a shrug.

  She shook her head, her ponytail swinging back and forth with the motion. He wondered what she’d do if he pulled her hair free, letting his hands run through it as it tumbled around her shoulders. He stared at her mutinous expression. She’d probably try to deck him.

  “No, thank you.”

  “You can’t ignore me forever. I’m damned persistent. Ever since I found out have I left you alone more than twelve hours?”

  She frowned at him for what had to be the tenth time this morning. “Fine.”

  “Great. So now I’m completely at your service. You tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” She eyed him skeptically. Claire was the only woman he’d ever been so intimately involved with who seemed to be unable to stand him.

  “Fine. Since I have no other alternative, and I feel like crap, you can help me load up the first flower van in the parking lot. One of our guys is running late and this is the earliest wedding, so we don’t have time to waste. All the silver vases with the hydrangeas and roses go in first.” She was walking around and talking at the same time. He wasn’t about to ad
mit he didn’t know what a hydrangea looked like, so he let her lead the way. She still had a clipboard in her hand and was counting under her breath. He decided he liked the way Claire looked in her everyday jeans, especially since she filled them out so well.

  “Stop checking out my butt, Manning, and start loading up the truck,” she said in a whisper and looked around. Everyone was too busy to pay attention to them.

  “You know it’s a real turn-on for a guy to be talked to like that,” he said, picking up a vase and hiding his smile.

  “I’ll make sure I don’t do it again.”

  He picked up a second vase with his other hand. “Claire, you shouldn’t be lifting these. These must weigh like twenty pounds.”

  “Oh please, I lift those all the time.” She came to stand beside him and to prove her point raised her eyebrows and lifted up a vase, walking right out the propped-open back door. He cursed under his breath and followed her out the back.

  “So when are we going to talk to your mother?”

  He caught the vase she almost dropped.

  “We? No, I don’t think so. We are not going anywhere.” Her hands were frantically waving back and forth between their bodies.

  “You’re not telling her anything on your own. When does your father get back?”

  “Right now I’m thinking of not telling her at all. My father won’t be home for another few weeks. Maybe I can leave town or something. Like some pregnant teen in the fifties—”

  “This isn’t the fifties.”

  “You don’t know my parents.”

  He almost disagreed. He knew her father very well, but if he told her that she’d have a thousand questions for him. “Fine. We’ll talk about it at dinner tonight.”

  “I’d really like to tell my mother on my own, and I need to tell her soon before news of the, um…” She gave him a sheepish smile as her voice trailed off.

  He grinned. “News of the burger-stabbing reaches her?”

  She took a deep breath and nodded. “Can you just get the rest of the vases and we’ll talk after?”