Wilder Hearts: Once Upon a Pregnancy. RaeAnne Thayne
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have been easier to drop her off at her house first. Of course, he also wanted to pick up Wags. Maybe he didn’t want to take Wags to his parents’ house.
Yet something told her he might have an ulterior motive for bringing her with him. Had he come up with a phony excuse to force her to meet his parents?
“Come in with me,” he said, reaching for the door handle.
Simone stiffened. “Why?”
“Because I’d like to introduce you to my mom and dad.”
Had he told them about the baby? About his plans to marry her?
A sense of panic settled over her, and she couldn’t seem to move.
“You can wait in the car if you want,” he said. “But you don’t need to do that. Just come inside and say hello. We can leave whenever you want to.”
Her stance didn’t soften in the least. “Did you tell them about the baby?”
If he had, she wasn’t sure what she’d do.
“No,” he said, “I haven’t said a word to anyone. Not even to Leif. But that’s not because I didn’t want to.”
He seemed to have backed her into a corner, and while she didn’t feel like going through the how-do-you-do and the nice-to-meet-you motions, she unhooked her seat belt and got out of the Jeep.
As she strode up the walkway, she tugged at the hemline on her blouse, now really hoping it didn’t look like a maternity top.
When Mike rang the bell, he didn’t wait for anyone to answer. Instead, he swung open the door for Simone and called out, “Hey, it’s me. Is anyone home?”
“Mikey!” a woman’s voice said. “Come on in. I’m in the kitchen.”
As Mike led Simone through the house, she couldn’t help looking around the modest but cozy living room, with its display of family photos on the mantel of a brick fireplace.
The warm aroma of sugar and spice filled the air and suggested someone was baking. As Mike led her to a small but functional kitchen, the mouthwatering scent grew stronger.
Sure enough, she’d been right. A salt-and-pepper-haired woman wearing oven mitts was placing a cake onto an open breadboard to cool off. When she straightened, a loose curl flopped onto her forehead.
“Looks like we arrived just in time,” Mike said to Simone. “My mom is the best cook in New England, if not the entire country.”
Mrs. O’Rourke caught Simone’s eye and grinned. “My kids are biased. But I do love to cook. And there’s usually something on the stove or in the oven. I never know when one of them will come home. And when they do, they often have several friends with them.” She removed the mitts and reached out a hand to Simone. “Hi. I’m Rhonda O’Rourke. And while you’re welcome to have some carrot cake, it’ll taste better after it cools and I can whip up the sour-cream frosting.”
Simone took the older woman’s hand in greeting as Mike introduced them.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Simone said.
“We won’t be staying long,” Mike added. “I just brought Dad’s edger back.”
“It’s too bad that you can’t stay,” Rhonda said. “I’ve got some iced tea and leftover apple cobbler I can feed you. That is, if your father didn’t get into it while I was at the market earlier this morning. He’s got such a sweet tooth.”
“I don’t know about Simone,” Mike said, “but I could probably be coaxed into staying long enough to have some coffee and cobbler. And speaking of Dad, where is he?”
“Outside.” Rhonda brushed at the errant curl with the back of her hand. “He’s working on the new gazebo. It’s nearly done.”
“My dad retired after forty years as a police officer,” Mike told Simone. “And ever since he left the department, he’s taken an interest in the yard.”
“Actually,” Rhonda said, “he’s always liked working with plants and flowers, but when our children were young, it seemed as though every kid in the neighborhood used to hang out at our house.”
Mike cupped his hand around his mouth as though he meant to whisper, yet he kept his voice loud enough for his mom to hear. “Our friends all wanted to play here because of all the cookies and brownies they used to get.”
Rhonda laughed, a warm, hearty lilt that a person could get used to hearing. “Okay, so I used to like knowing where my kids were at all times. And I wasn’t beyond bribing them and their friends.”
“Aha!” Mike said. “And here I thought you spent so much time in the kitchen because you loved to cook and bake.”
Rhonda crossed her arms and grinned. “A mom’s gotta do what a mom’s gotta do.”
Even Simone found herself smiling.
“So,” Mike added, “with five of us kids living here, the doors and gates were swinging open and closed repeatedly.”
“That’s true. And poor Sam couldn’t seem to do much in the yard except mow. The kids trampled any flowers or shrubs he tried to plant.”
“So now that we’re finally adults, he’s making up for lost time.”
“You ought to see the new rose garden.” Rhonda pointed to a vase on the kitchen table, where a bouquet of flowers in shades of red, yellow and pink was displayed.
“Come on,” Mike said to Simone. “I’ll introduce you to my dad.”
“Will you excuse me?” Simone asked Rhonda.
“Of course. I’ll put on a pot of coffee and dish up the cobbler while you’re outside.”
Simone followed Mike as he led her to the sliding glass door. Through the window, she could see a lovely backyard.
Mr. O’Rourke, a stocky silver-haired man wearing a pair of khaki shorts, a bright yellow shirt and a green baseball cap, had his back to the house and was stooped over, pulling weeds from around the base of a rosebush bearing red buds.
When Mike pushed open the sliding door and stepped onto the patio, the older man looked up and grinned.
“Hey, Pop.” Mike placed a hand on Simone’s back as he escorted her across the lawn. “I brought your edger back.”
The man’s grin stretched into a broad smile. “Looks like you brought more than a lawn tool.”
Mike chuckled. “Yep. This is Simone Garner, one of the nurses at Walnut River General.” He then went on to introduce her to his father.
“I’d shake hands,” Sam O’Rourke said, “but I’m afraid that would get you all dirty.”
“Your wife was right,” Simone said. “That’s a lovely rose garden.”
“Thanks. It’s coming along nicely, although I’m still learning how to take care of it properly.” Sam reached into his hip pocket and pulled out a pair of clippers. Then he cut off a blood-red bud, leaving the stem long. He snipped off the thorns before handing it to her. “Here you go, Simone. If you put this in water, it’ll bloom for days. And the fragrance will surprise you.”
“Thank you.” She took the rose and sniffed the blossom. Sam was right; it smelled wonderful.
“You might want to come inside and wash up,” Mike said. “Mom’s putting on some coffee and cutting into the cobbler.”
“That little woman is a real prize, but I gotta tell you, I’ve put on twenty-five pounds since my retirement.” Sam patted his stomach, which hung over his belt. “But I’m not going to worry about that until Monday, when I start my new diet.”
They went inside, where the aroma of coffee mingled with