When the Earth Moves. Roxanne St. Claire
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round-trip to New York. She had no intention of staying one minute longer than she needed to. The next meeting with Child Services was the following week, and she planned to be prepared.
“No children?” he asked, still on the ancient history of her marriage.
“Just the one I plan on adopting.”
Oh Lord, what if her worst nightmare came true? What if he suddenly decided he should raise Callie? The thought seemed preposterous from a man who admitted he didn’t want the responsibility of a fish, but more preposterous things had happened in the past few months. The law would be on his side, even though his lifestyle didn’t exactly welcome a child. Unless he planned to bring a stroller into Yankee Stadium. How could she subtly remind him of that?
“You’ve never been married,” she stated simply.
“Never have, never will.”
Relief made her fingers tingle. “You seem sure of that.”
A half smile tipped his lips. “Some things are a safe bet, Jo.”
“And marriage isn’t one of them?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.” He took another sip of his beer, then set the cup back on the ground. “What’s a safe bet is that I’ll never get married.”
Welcome news, in this case. But how could he be so sure? “Why is that?”
He looked at her the same way he had when she didn’t know who played shortstop. “I think you know enough about my personal history to answer that yourself.”
She frowned. What was she missing here? “Do you mean because of your parents?”
“Not my parents,” he corrected quickly. “My mother. She sort of soured me on lifelong relationships.”
His mother? She’d been forced to leave and had tried for years to rekindle a relationship with her husband and sons. They’d shunned her. Was it possible…he didn’t know that?
The crowd roared again, but he surprised her by pulling her a little closer and pointing toward the field. “Now just look at that, sweetheart,” he said with an easy chuckle, his gaze focused on the field. “Tell me there’s anything dull about that brilliant pickoff.”
What was brilliant was his change-of-subject technique. But that was fine. She didn’t want to delve into his past if he didn’t. The less said about it, the better. However, she didn’t want him to go too far off topic.
“I need to get to Kennedy by ten-thirty at the latest,” she reminded him.
He glanced at the time on the scoreboard. “That’ll be tough.”
Her heart squeezed. He couldn’t do this. He had no reason to deny her his signature. It was obvious he didn’t care about his mother, and surely he didn’t want the responsibility of a eleven-month-old baby. “You are going to sign that document, aren’t you, Cameron?”
He tightened his hold on her ever so slightly. “What will happen if I don’t?”
A child’s world, and Jo’s, would collapse again. “You will.”
“What will happen if I do?”
“I’ll leave. I can get a cab myself. I promise never to darken your doorstep again.”
A slow smile revealed straight white teeth. “Then I’m going to take every possible minute I’ve got.” He leaned right into her ear and whispered, “And you’d like my doorstep. It’s in a great part of town and professionally decorated. You’re welcome to darken it anytime.”
Every feminine cell in her body betrayed her, dancing to attention and making her tingle. The very thought of what he was suggesting made her legs feel a little weak. Great. Just great, Jo. She hadn’t counted on having to fight herself to get what she wanted.
She tried the deep-breathing technique Katie had taught her when she was in her yoga phase, but it came out like an anxious shudder, and his grin widened at the sound.
“Don’t be nervous,” he said with a soft laugh, patting her thigh just intimately enough to leave an imaginary burn mark. “We’re only down by one. And the Sox are cursed…usually. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
They both knew she wasn’t worried about the game.
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