The Baby Project, page 8
Their gazes met across the table. Heat pumped through his veins. In that moment, he wanted to show her he could be the right kind of man for her, far better than that asshat she’d married. A yearning ripped through him—to want to give her what she needed, if only he were capable.
“A lot of people on the coasts think they’re the important part of America,” she said. “That rural areas and small towns like this are flyover country. But people are so sincere here. Unlike guys in New York who spend twenty dollars on a drink and try to impress you by telling you all about their Goldman Sachs investments. You can talk to someone and share a burger together at O’Reilly’s, and you’ve made a friend for life who will always have your back.”
He hadn’t had her back. He certainly hadn’t treated her like she deserved to be treated.
He turned off the camera. “Thank you.” There was so much he wanted to say. His eyes caressed her, tried to tell her he was sorry for how he’d treated her, but in his heart he knew she wouldn’t believe a word he said.
She needed a man of action.
Someone unafraid to be the man she needed.
And that was simply not him.
Chapter Seven
“This is a very bad idea,” Liz said that evening as she and Grant stopped before the heavy wooden door of O’Reilly’s, the local pub on Main Street. Laughter and a few notes from a live band warming up drifted out to the street.
It was a warm, perfect summer evening…except absolutely nothing in Liz’s life could be called perfect. Her stomach was flipping worse than a beached fish and she felt seasick. If only she could turn the clock back to the “episode” in the garden where giving in to the heavy pull of attraction between them had gotten her into this big pickle. She’d be stronger this time. Resist kissing those beautiful lips of his and tangling her fingers through his thick, close-cropped hair and wrapping herself around his hot, hard body like a damn pretzel. Maybe.
“It’s a great idea,” Grant said, his usually stoic expression way too cheery. The trouble was, when the man did crack a smile, it was disarming, lightening up the heavy masculine features of his face and making her itch to trace the tiny indentation that formed in his cheek with her finger.
Yes, Mr. International Hottie had. A. Dimple. Yet another curse to avoid. Like his broad shoulders, lean waist, and confident bearing. And those baby-blue eyes that sometimes bore through her with an intensity that snatched her breath away.
“Since you’ve clearly been avoiding your family,” he said. “It will be good to have a visit.”
“Not only are you judgey, you’re also sanctimonious,” she said. “I’d appreciate it if you’d say as little as possible.”
“About what?”
“About—everything.”
She shot him a wary look, unable to explain how it was with her family. Ever since her marriage ended, Liz had felt like somewhat of a failure in front of her three siblings, who were all happily married. Not to mention that now that both her sisters were expecting, all the talk was about babies, babies, babies. She would never begrudge them their hard-earned happiness. She just hoped she’d have some of her own to share soon.
She wasn’t sure when she’d gone from being the perfect sibling to the one whose life had not turned out the way she’d expected. Being the oldest sister, she’d always thought of herself as high achieving, hardworking, and an example. A few years ago, she’d been on the fast track to happiness…on scholarship at Columbia, dating her steadfast and handsome high school sweetheart—whom her family loved—all the indications present for a bright and happy future with a house, a dog, and a carload of kids.
Surprise! Life had gone and bitten her in the ass.
Grant took hold of her arm. He was frowning. “What’s the matter?” he asked.
She straightened. Stepped back so that his arm fell. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Look, if it’s easier for you to go in there alone, I’ll leave. I’m sorry if I invited myself to dinner. I was only trying to help.”
“It’s not your fault,” she said. “The damage was already done with those kisses.”
Those kisses. Those fiery, lethal kisses. She brushed her fingers over her lips, the memory even now making them tingle.
“All right then,” he said in a no-nonsense voice. “We’d best have our story straight before we go in there, don’t you think?” he asked. “I mean, that we’re dating, right?”
She didn’t like the concern in his eyes. It threatened to melt the ice around her heart, and she could not risk letting him in again. He’ll be gone by summer’s end, a voice in her head reminded her. There was nothing to do now but play out her hand in front of her family. Let them think they were dating for this very brief time. She hated lying but it seemed the easiest explanation. What could it hurt?
Liz cleared her throat. “I think it’s all right to stick as close to the truth as we can, that we met in Africa. We could say we just couldn’t stop thinking about each other, yada yada. And absolutely nothing about your recent…donation, okay?”
He nodded. “I’ve always told my family the truth,” she said. “It doesn’t sit well with me to lie.”
Yet she hadn’t told them about the artificial insemination, either. She’d tell them more when the time came. Then they wouldn’t worry about her or pity her. Poor Liz, she’s so desperate for a baby, she accepted a sperm donation from the man who dumped her. Who was now pretending to be her boyfriend.
Oh. My. God. She couldn’t go in there.
Grant grabbed her by the upper arms and leveled a look at her that said he saw right through all her bullshit. “You doctors, so type A. You’re the only one who expects perfection from yourself. From everything you’ve told me about your family, they just want to love you.”
How had he sensed that was what she was worried about? He’d always had the ability to know when she was upset. It would’ve been so easy to let all her fears and worries roll right off her tongue. Rest her head against that rock-hard chest and feel his warmth envelop her.
What was she thinking? Confiding in him would be absurd and dangerous. Her ex had betrayed her after knowing him—trusting him—for all those years, and Grant—he simply hadn’t loved her enough. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Just then the door swung open as a group of people exited, laughing and talking. She grabbed the handle and walked through. Grant placed his hand up high on the door and finished opening it, and put his other hand on the small of her back as they walked in. A typical date thing to do, but his touch burned.
Her family was gathered at a few square tables that had been pushed together, plates of appetizers already spread out between them. From across the bar, she waved to her parents, her sisters, Maddie and Cat, their husbands, Nick and Preston, her older brother, Derrick, and his wife Jenna. Liz took a deep breath and led Grant to the table.
“I’m starving,” Maddie, who was eight months pregnant, said, scooping up some crab dip with a chip, then adding more to her plate with a spoon.
Her husband Nick rolled his eyes as he went for some dip, too.
“What?” Maddie asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Maybe because you just ate a full meal an hour ago,” Cat said.
“Said the pot who called the kettle black,” Maddie said to Cat. “I can’t help it if I’m hungry all the time.”
“I know you can’t, sweetheart,” Nick said, kissing her cheek. “Being eight months pregnant is a big job.”
“Everybody, this is Grant,” Liz said. The banter stopped abruptly. So did the chip-dipping and the drinking. Everyone looked up.
If Liz dreaded the spotlight, Grant thrived on it. “A pleasure, Mrs. Kingston,” he said, taking her mother’s hand. He said it in that charming, young Hugh Grant way of his that surely must make women fall into boneless heaps at his feet.
“Hello, son,” her dad said. “Please, call us Henry and Rosalyn.”
“We’re delighted to meet you, Grant,” her mom said. “Dottie talks about you all the time and keeps us up-to-date on what you’re up to. It’s been thrilling to follow your career.”
“Well, thank you. I regret my aunt’s not in town now, as well.”
“My God, you’re even more handsome in person,” Maddie said, glancing incredulously at Liz.
Liz did her best to ignore that, although she felt heat creep up her face. “Cat, how are you feeling?” she asked as they took seats and their waiter took their drink orders. Just a water for her; she hoped no one noticed. Next to her, Grant’s long leg grazed hers, distracting her further.
“Well, I just had my four-month visit, and all’s well,” Cat said. “We had an ultrasound and we know what we’re having.”
“Oh, Cat,” Liz said, clapping her hands together. “What is it?”
Cat glanced at her husband, Preston, and beamed. “A girl. We’re having a girl.”
“Oh, honey, that’s wonderful,” her mother said.
“Every body part was present and accounted for,” Cat said. “We feel very blessed.”
“Hope the baby doesn’t have my nose,” Preston said. “It looked a little large on the ultrasound.”
Cat shook her head. “He’s been obsessed about that ever since we had the test.”
“You couldn’t possibly have gotten that much of a view of the baby’s nose,” Liz said, frowning.
“I’m a little worried, that’s all,” Preston said. “I don’t want the other kids to make fun of her or anything.”
“Son, welcome to parenthood,” their father said, chuckling. “The first of many worries.”
“I think your nose is very cute,” Cat said, tweaking it a little. “For a guy.”
“That’s what I’m worried about,” Preston said. “For a guy.”
Maddie glanced over at her husband. “What time does the baby store close, Nick?”
“We’ve got time,” Nick said, sneaking a peek at his phone. “Nine.”
“We’re going to run to that outlet place off the highway for some crib shopping,” Maddie said.
“Is the nursery painted?” Cat asked.
Maddie nodded. “You’ll have to come over and see it.”
“Can’t wait,” Preston said with a tinge of sarcasm, hitting Nick on the back.
“Hey. I painted it myself,” Nick said. “And the baby furniture, too.”
Rosalyn turned to Liz. “Not to change the subject, but, sweetheart, you’ve got some color in your cheeks.” She suddenly felt herself scrutinized by her mom’s thorough gaze.
“I’m just a little sunburned from yesterday.” Not with the 100 SPF, she wasn’t. If she wasn’t blushing from Grant’s hand resting on the small of her back, she was from her mom implying she was smitten.
“I hope your hours at work have been better?” her mom asked. “We’ve missed you lately.”
Liz felt a little embarrassed. Her mother had clearly noticed that the conversation had become obsessed about babies and had changed the subject on account of her. “I’m working on cutting my hours, Mom.” Paula was a real pill, but Liz didn’t want to worry her family by talking about that when all the other conversation was so happy.
“Don’t be so modest, darling,” Grant said, playfully giving her neck a squeeze. “What Liz isn’t telling you is it’s difficult to slow down when she’s become so popular. The hometown girl returning to serve her town and all that.”
“This town needs you, Liz,” Maddie said. “Your partner Paula doesn’t have much of a bedside manner. During one of my visits when Brett wasn’t around, I had to see her, and it was a little awkward.”
Her sisters both used Brett as their OB. They’d already agreed beforehand that Liz would be with both of them in the delivery room as their sister, not as a doctor, which was just as she’d wanted it.
“So, Grant, when are you headed back to the war zone?” Jenna asked.
“Hopefully in a month or so,” Grant said.
Liz’s stomach lurched at the “hopefully.” Of course he was looking forward to going back to work. A reminder that this was all fake, lest she believe for a moment it wasn’t.
That wasn’t all that made her stomach lurch. The waiter set down their meals, her vegetarian tacos and Grant’s giant, massive burger, bloodred on the inside and dripping with grease. He made a point of grinning widely at her as he took a bite.
“Ugh. Good thing you’re not actually my boyfriend,” Liz whispered. “Because we are not refrigerator compatible.”
“Oh, but we are where it counts, sweetheart,” he said in a low voice, smiling innocently.
“So how did you two meet again?” Derrick asked.
“Nairobi,” Grant said, his hand unashamedly curling around her shoulder. He certainly was touchy-feely in public. “Liz was giving families polio vaccines, and I was doing an exposé on government corruption. It was the rainy season, and her Jeep got stuck in the muck on her way to the city to pick up more vaccine. Of course, I knew helping her was an opportunity to meet the brave young doctor everyone was talking about.”
Liz rolled her eyes. “You fell for me because of the cause I was supporting?”
“Absolutely.” He trained those endless blue eyes on her and smiled. But when the conversation turned to another topic, he leaned close and said in a deadpan voice, “I fell for you because I liked the way your arse looked in those khaki shorts when you were trying to dig yourself out of the mud.”
That sounded more like the Grant Wilbanks she knew. She shook her head incredulously, but she couldn’t help smiling a little. Actually, he’d told the gentleman’s version to her family. The truth was, he’d rescued her and taken her back to the room he was renting until her car could get pulled out the next day.
She fell hard and fast, and slept with him before the week was out, in his apartment with the windows wide open, the mosquito netting drifting like angel wings in the soft breeze, and a massive full moon right outside.
Of course she’d slept with him. He’d intoxicated her. He and that country, the adventure, the romance of it all. She’d lost her mind and her heart, both so easily. And after all the sorrow she’d run from, the death of her marriage, the cheating of her husband, she’d embraced everything with Grant like it was some damn fairy tale.
Maybe that was why she’d fallen harder than he did. She’d needed the fairy tale at that time in her life. She’d just been so certain of what they’d had. His not showing up to meet her had come as a complete shock. For a person who was usually pretty intuitive about people, she had completely misread him.
“Don’t suppose you can tell us about that trouble you got into back in Kenya?” Nick said. “With the family?”
“Sorry,” Grant said. “I’m not permitted to discuss it.”
“He helped a family with a sick child,” Liz said. “Hope you don’t mind me telling them the truth, honey.” She turned back to her family. “It was nothing political like how they’re trying to spin it.” He looked genuinely surprised. He’d never told her specifically what he’d done with that family, but she knew.
“I thought journalists had a code or something about not getting involved with humanitarian crises,” Nick said.
Grant cleared his throat. He sat forward, resting his elbows on the table with his hands clasped. He could have been heading a meeting of field reporters instead of sitting around a local pub hanging out. His commanding bearing, his warm smile, even the way he made eye contact with everyone in turn bespoke of a natural leader, a man confident in his abilities, and at ease with just about anyone.
It was very sexy, but not as sexy as what he said next.
“I used to think like that, Nick, until I saw your sister-in-law in action. When she was with Doctors Without Borders, she reached out to everyone and anyone she could.” He turned to her. “Do you remember that baby you delivered that had the heart problem? There was a pediatric heart surgeon visiting from New York, working in Johannesburg, about two thousand miles away.”
“Grant, really, I—” She didn’t need him to do this.
“Liz, be quiet. We want to hear what he’s saying,” Maddie said. Her entire family was listening carefully.
“Liz got him to operate on the baby. She paid for the flight for the mother and child.”
The table got even quieter than before.
“Oh, Liz,” her mother said.
“That’s my girl,” her dad said. “She never gives up without a fight.”
Liz held up her water toward her parents. “I learned from the best.” It was true. Her dad didn’t give up the shoe company a few years ago when he’d had a stroke and it was sinking. And her mother never gave up on the kids in juvenile court she struggled to help as a judge every day.
“Liz, that’s…amazing,” her mother said.
“She’s amazing,” Grant said. “I learned from her that sometimes you’ve got to do what’s right.”
If she was dying from embarrassment earlier, she was on the verge of tears now. Maybe it was possible pregnancy hormones making her crazy. She blinked hard and cleared her throat. And crossed her fingers that that was the case.
“Tell you what,” Liz’s dad said. “We boys might head off to the bar for a few and let you ladies talk some.”
“More time to scavenge all the leftovers, honey,” Nick said.
Maddie gave him a playful smack. “If you don’t stop making fun of me, I won’t save you any.”
“You know you’re always beautiful to me,” Nick said, rubbing Maddie’s belly and giving her a kiss. “I just never thought I’d see the day when my wife would eat more than a pro football player.”
“I love you,” Maddie said, “but when you talk like that you do know you’re asking for death, right?”
After the men took off, Liz sat at the table with her mom and sisters and Jenna. The weight of everything she hadn’t told them was an albatross around her neck, but she had no idea how or where to even begin to tell them what was going on.
“He is a handsome man,” Liz’s mom said. “Rugged and tanned, and so charismatic.”
“He’s super nice, too,” Jenna said.
