Her Fill-In Fiancé. Stacy Connelly
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They had no reason not to, thanks to me,” she tacked on quickly before Theresa could. “Jake played along because he didn’t want to say anything before I had a chance to talk to them.”
“So how did they take it?” her cousin asked, her voice filled with sympathy.
Sophia bit her lip before admitting, “We’re, um, kind of postponing that part of the truth until after the party.”
Anticipating her cousin’s reaction, Sophia held the phone well away from her ear. Even so, she heard Theresa’s response loud and clear. “What do you mean postponing? And who is we?”
“You don’t understand, Theresa. For the first time in years, my family is looking at me without a boatload of concern and worry in their eyes. Like they’re seeing me as Sophia instead of as their little Fifi.”
Theresa’s mispronunciation of Sophia when they were both toddlers had been the start of the nickname that had followed Sophia well into her teens. She’d convinced most of her family, Sam excluded, to call her by her given name, but she couldn’t help feeling she’d done little to change how they thought of her.
“The party’s next weekend,” she added, “and I’ll come clean then. What’s the harm in waiting?”
Theresa’s silence rang with disapproval. “What’s the harm?” she asked finally. “I’d say Jake Cameron is.”
After reassuring Theresa that she would not be foolish enough to fall for Jake’s lies a second time—and making herself the same promise—Sophia slipped out of bed and pulled on the robe Theresa had given her last Christmas. Sophia could hardly miss the irony of the words scrolling across the comfortable flannel.
You’ve gotta kiss a lot of frogs …
She couldn’t say two was a lot, but it was two too many as far as she was concerned.
Cracking open the bedroom door, she listened to the silence for several seconds before rushing into the bathroom across the hall. For a woman who’d only moments ago sworn Jake Cameron was totally harmless, why was her pulse pounding like she’d made a narrow escape?
“I’m just not ready to face him yet this morning,” she murmured as she pulled her toothbrush from her small makeup bag on the vanity. Morning sickness threatened, and catching sight of her bleary eyes and sleep-rumpled hair, she groaned. “Definitely not ready.”
Following a long, reviving shower, Sophia wrapped a towel turban-style around her wet hair, tightened the belt on her robe and prepared to dash back to her bedroom. It seemed silly now, but one of her big dreams in leaving home had been to finally have a bathroom of her own—no brothers or roommates to share with. Yet like so many of her goals, Sophia had failed to meet that one, too.
Sophia took a deep breath and opened the door. Soon, she thought. Soon she’d be back in Chicago, looking for an entire apartment for her and her baby. She had a new job lined up, too, working with a friend who was about to start her own catering company. She would still be working in the service industry, waiting hand and foot on the rich and impossible, but it was a good job. Plus, along with handling the bookkeeping, Christine’s mother had agreed to babysit for Sophia. And while a catering service might have not be Sophia’s dream, it was Christine’s, and helping her friend achieve that dream would be good enough. She’d have her apartment, she’d have her job, and she’d have her little one.
“Nice robe.” The voice at her back froze Sophia in her tracks when really she should have started running down the hall. “And I thought the pig apron was bad.”
She heard the smile in Jake’s voice, but she refused to turn and face him. Still, she could feel him step closer, could sense the head-to-toe path his golden gaze traveled along her body. Despite the hot shower only moments earlier, goose bumps rose on her arms, and she fought against a shiver tracing fingers down her spine. “I—I like this robe.” Glancing down at the pink material emblazoned with a crown-wearing amphibian, she added, “I think it’s appropriate.”
“Kissed a lot of frogs lately, princess?”
At his faint mockery, Sophia turned to face Jake. His hair was still damp from his own shower, and she caught a hint of the soap her mother had been buying for years, a clean, simple scent that smelled so much more intriguing on him. He’d shaved away the shadow of beard from last night, and she had the crazy thought that she should have let him kiss her, should have had the chance to feel the rasp of stubble against her skin …
“It’s a reminder,” she insisted, tightening her grip on the robe’s neckline as if that might help keep her heated thoughts under wraps, “not to kiss any more.”
“Given up finding Prince Charming?”
“Given up on believing in him,” she muttered.
“Sophia—”
Whatever Jake might have said was lost as her mother’s familiar call rang out from the kitchen. “Sophia, sweetie, breakfast is almost ready!”
Jake glanced over his shoulder with an almost bemused smile. “Breakfast,” he echoed.
“I heard. Blueberry waffles with real maple syrup.”
“Is that what your mother usually makes?”
“Nope. Just my favorite.” And Sophia had little doubt it was what her mother had made for her first morning back.
Jake seemed to realize that, too. “You’ve got a great family.”
“I know.” She loved them all and knew they loved her—even Nick, who’d be the last to admit it. They loved her despite all her mistakes, but Sophia wanted more than that. She wanted to be the daughter, sister, mother her family could be proud of. She wanted to erase the no matter what that always seemed to hang over her family’s I love yous.
Jake stepped closer, regaining her complete attention, as he brushed her damp bangs off her forehead. “When you tell them about the baby, they’re going to support you.”
Another case of loving her and worse, loving her child, despite her mistakes. “I know they will,” she whispered, “no matter what.”
“Sophia.” Sympathy and understanding shone in his golden gaze, the same combination that had so easily slipped through her defenses. What was it about Jake that made her feel like she could tell him anything? Even now that she knew better, why did she still want to open her heart and share her dreams with him? Dreams she’d never told her family, too afraid she’d see nothing but the mistakes of the past and doubts written in their eyes …
“Your family will be right here to help take care of the baby.”
Right here in Clearville … The idea of staying in her hometown was so far from the plan Sophia had for herself and her child, she blinked in surprise. “It’ll be a little hard for them to help when they’re here and I’m back in Chicago.”
A heartbeat of silence pulsed between them before Jake demanded, “Chicago? What are you talking about?”
“Chicago. Where I live,” she pointed out, seeing but not understanding the dark scowl that crossed his face at her words. “We met in St. Louis, but you know I live in Chicago.”
“I know you lived there. When you came back here—”
“For my parents’ anniversary, for a visit.” A long overdue visit, guilt reminded her, stabbing at her conscience. “After my parents’ party—” and after she came clean about everything “—I’m going back.”
“To raise your baby alone?”
His voice had risen, and Sophia instinctively stepped forward and lifted a hand to his mouth. “My parents …” Her words trailed off as her worry about her family overhearing drifted away. The brush of Jake’s lips against her palm sent a shiver running up her arm. Goosebumps spread across