Indecent Arrangements: Tabloid Affair, Secretly Pregnant!. Julia James
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Sixteen
NATE pulled a suit from his closet and laid it over the end of the bed where Payton lazed beneath the blankets. “I’ll be back Wednesday evening. We can have a late dinner.”
A pair of shorts, track pants, tee shirts and socks were stacked haphazardly within his case. Straightening the lot, he caught the languid stretch of a pale arm by the headboard, the shifting of a slender leg. Considered shoving the whole packing mess to the floor and using the bed for the purpose it was intended.
“How is it I’ve gotten spoiled on you in only one month?” came the quiet purr from amid the sheets. “Five days is so long.”
Nate chuckled, taking her pout for the stroke to his ego it was. She’d miss him. They’d fallen into a habit of seeing each other every other day or so and this would be the longest they’d gone apart since their first night together. In all honesty, the break was probably overdue.
As good as being with Payton felt, something about all that rightness—the ease with which she fit into too many areas of his life—was making his skin itch. Making him tug at his tie and rebel against a confine without physical properties. He needed some space. As she’d said, it had been over a month.
His motions slowed and he stood, frozen, holding a boxed shirt suspended above his case.
More than twenty-eight days.
He shot a glance at Payton, searching for an answer to a question he didn’t like.
He’d have known if she started her period.
No. No. He was being paranoid. She wasn’t pregnant. Couldn’t be. How many times had he heard some television or radio commercial touting on about each woman’s body being different. They just hadn’t been together long enough for him to know what kind of different to expect from hers.
Only suddenly he wanted to pilfer through her diary in search of those little circled numbers. Figure out exactly where she kept that critical information and make a note of it. Reassure himself he hadn’t somehow made the most monumental mistake of his life and then play a quiet game of keep away during those most fertile times of the month.
There was no way. A matter of days would confirm it. Only he’d be gone for the next five.
“Nate?” Payton pushed to her elbows and the sheet slipped low across the swell of her breast.
He shoved his hands into his pockets, balled his fists and tried for casual. “Why don’t you come with me?”
He’d wanted the space, and at that moment was nearly gasping for breathing room, but the idea of not knowing, not being sure—it was intolerable. He’d set up another trip in a week or two.
She sat straighter. “What?”
“I’m going to be busy with work. Meetings. Drinks and dinners. But eventually I’ll have to sleep. And if I have a woman back in my room, they won’t try taking me out to some seedy strip club this time. Besides, the shopping is supposed to be top-notch.”
Silence rang through the room, bouncing around the slate walls, allowing his agitation to grow.
“Um, that’s nice, and I wish I could,” she offered at last, “but I take vacations over school breaks.”
His jaw set, his focus narrowed. “Call in sick.”
She began smoothing one corner of the sheet between her fingers. “I’ve got plans with my family.”
“You could see them anytime.”
Her gaze slid away, the turn of her head shutting him out. She looked uncomfortable. As if whatever she was thinking wasn’t something she wanted to share. And he was hanging every hope on it being some neurotic hang-up about discussing her menstrual cycle.
“I—well—”
This was ridiculous. He was railroading her into a trip he didn’t want her to come on rather than just asking. Man up. “Your period?”
“What?”
“Are you expecting it? Is that why you don’t want to come?”
Shifting to sit akimbo, Payton cocked her head in a way where Nate could almost see her calculating dates. Whatever excuse she’d been ready to offer, that wasn’t it. Just as well she had a reason to stay behind, particularly since he’d broached the subject and had her on the right track now.
“Actually, yes. In the next few days.” Then she squinted an eye at him. “Awfully intuitive. Do you have any hang-ups at all?”
He laughed as if she’d made some great joke, covering the relief that washed through him with tsunami force. “Not about that kind of thing. It’s a period. Big deal. Women get them.”
It was when they didn’t get them, you had something to worry about.
She wrinkled her nose. “But you grew up in a house with just your father. No sisters. And yet, you’re miles beyond what Brandt or Clint could handle.”
Nate shrugged, feeling lighter than he had in days. “It’s probably as much to do with my dad as anything else. Being the educator, he wasn’t really one to shy away from a topic because it happened to apply more specifically to the other gender. And because my mom wasn’t around to give the female perspective, he invariably felt an obligation to be as forthright as possible. The man was a chronic over-compensator.”
Payton laughed and held out her hand. “Tee shirt?”
Nate pulled one from his bag and handed it over.
“You know, you’ve never really told me about your mom. She was gone by the time we met. But beyond that…”
And here he thought things were turning around. “What do you want to know?”
She had a right to ask. It wasn’t any big deal, just not his favorite topic.
“What happened to her?”
“She took off when I was five. Life with Dad and me wasn’t right for her. She wanted something different, I guess. Hell, I don’t know, something else.”
A little line crinkled between her brows, suggesting she didn’t like where the story was going. But she needn’t have worried, there wasn’t much more than what he’d already said.
Leaning across the bed, he dropped a kiss on her knee. “It wasn’t too bad. She’d checked out long before she actually left, so it wasn’t like we’d suddenly lost something we didn’t know how to live without.”
“But what did she do? Where did she go?” He could all but see the unspoken question painted across her face. “How could she leave you?”
“I don’t know where she ended up. Dad did, for a while at least—he made sure she was okay. You know how he is. But for me, once she left, that was it.”
“But she’s your mother. She knew you. Loved you.”
A vision of a pretty smile and distracted eyes slipped through his memory. Soft hair and a nice smell. Remote. Unavailable. Watching her stare out the window, the door…down the road.
Nate zipped the bag and hefted it to the floor before meeting Payton’s waiting eyes. She hurt for him. He could see it there, but she didn’t need to. “Payton, some people aren’t cut out to have a family. I don’t think my mom was a bad person, I think she just didn’t understand the way she was until it was too late.” Deficient. Same as him.
Payton couldn’t imagine it. Giving a child five years of attachment and then ripping it away. What did that do to a little boy? What did it do to the man he became? “Is that why you don’t—?”
“Does it really matter?”
Maybe it did. Her lips parted to press the question, but the quick shake of Nate’s head and hardening of his eyes told her not to.
Ignoring