The Pregnancy Plan. Grace Green
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Once he caught a glimpse of her in the rearview mirror, looking at him. For just a second, their eyes locked, before she quickly fixed hers on the road again; but in that fleeting exchange he thought he detected not only vulnerability, but a look of wistful wisdom.
And he knew only too well that he must have been mistaken, for Lacey Maxwell was neither vulnerable nor wistful nor wise.
What she was, was a beautiful bore.
But she’d done him a favor by coming to pick him up…and although given a choice he’d rather have walked, he was now beholden to her.
And the sooner he paid that debt, the happier he’d be.
So when they approached the next exit, he leaned forward and yelled, into the streaming ribbons of her black hair, “Could you stop by at the Caulfeild mall?”
She nodded. And putting out her signal, drove onto the exit ramp.
The shopping center was just minutes from the highway, and as soon as she’d parked, he jumped out.
“I’ll be right back.”
He’d intended buying flowers, but at the last moment he changed his mind and bought a box of Belgian chocolates instead. The woman could do with a bit of beef on her!
When he walked back toward the car, he could see she and Jack were talking. They didn’t notice him approach, but he could hear Jack’s eager voice from twenty feet away.
“…and me and my dad aren’t big on family parties, and I told him I’d have rather stayed home and mucked about on the ranch than come over here and act gaga over some baby—”
He broke off as he noticed his father.
“Oh, hi, Dad. I was just telling Aunt Lacey that—”
“Yeah, I heard.”
Lacey looked up at him, her expression amused. “Your son and I are on the same wavelength when it comes to babies—we agree they’re no fun to be around till they’re toilet-trained and able to have a decent conversation.”
“Aunt Lacey thinks they’re messy and noisy and need attention 24-7…24-7, Dad. Aunt Lacey says that means twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.”
“In other words, a full-time job.” Dermid got into the back seat. And added, as Lacey turned around in her seat to look at him, “A bit more exhausting, I’d imagine, and certainly more fulfilling, than spending an hour or two, here or there, leaning against a coconut palm and getting your picture taken for some glossy magazine! How would you describe your job, Lacey? Maybe a 3-2?”
Her green eyes, which had been twinkling with laughter, now clouded over. And he got the sense that he’d doused whatever joy she’d been feeling in the day.
Lips compressed, she turned from him, flicked the key in the ignition, and set the car in motion.
Jack appeared to have noticed the clashing vibrations, for he sank, obviously subdued, back in his seat.
And neither he, nor his aunt, spoke one more word to him or to each other for the rest of the journey.
Deerhaven, the Maxwell’s five-bedroom home, stood high on the slopes of West Vancouver. With a panoramic view of the ocean, it sat in parklike grounds, with a swimming pool, a white-painted cabana, and a play area for the children.
Lacey had her own condo a few minutes away, but every chance she got, she visited Deerhaven. Over the years, Felicity had become her closest friend…but there was one secret Lacey kept from Felicity, and it concerned Dermid.
Felicity thought highly of her brother-in-law, and both she and Jordan considered the ongoing thrust-and-parry between him and Lacey to be harmless. What neither of them knew was that in recent months, Dermid’s put-downs had become more cutting.
And Lacey was afraid that if she wasn’t careful she’d let her guard down and he’d see that he was drawing blood.
Today’s snide comment had been particularly hurtful.
“How would you describe your job, Lacey? Maybe 3-2?”
At his sarcastic comment, all her joy in the day had faded. And she’d felt a surge of resentment. He considered a model’s life to be one of glamour and ease; little did he know that sometimes she was so exhausted she almost fell apart. Not only was she constantly traveling, the shoots themselves were extremely stressful, as were the fashion shows in Milan, Paris, London…
Stifling a sigh, she pushed all her negative thoughts aside as she drew her car to a halt in front of Deerhaven. She was not going to let Dermid’s unpleasant jabs dampen her mood; she had planned to have a good time at today’s party and that was exactly what she was going to do.
Jack opened his seat belt buckle. “Dad, can I go around the back and see if my cousins are out there?”
“Sure, go ahead.”
He and Lacey walked toward the front door together. When they reached the stoop, he turned and looked out over the ocean.
“Some view,” he murmured, almost to himself.
Lacey followed his gaze, and saw that seven freighters sat waiting to be loaded with grain, and dozens of yachts dotted the waters, while a few speedboats raced around.
“Yes, it’s fabulous.”
Lacey glanced up at him, and as she did, she could—as always—easily see why her sister had fallen in love with him. With his dark auburn hair, rugged features, and sexy mouth, Dermid McTaggart really was a very attractive man.
It was too bad he didn’t have a personality to match!
Lacey had her own key to Deerhaven, and taking it out, she unlocked the door. He followed her into the foyer.
From upstairs came the fretty cry of a baby.
Lacey moved over to the foot of the stairs. “Fliss, we’re here!”
A few seconds later, Felicity appeared on the landing. She beamed down at them.
“Hi, Dermid, delighted you could make it. Where’s Jack?”
“He went round the back to look for his cousins.”
“Good, they’re playing there with Shauna—my baby-sitter from next door. Jordan called, he’s on his way home. I’m just going to put Verity down for a nap and we’ll have a drink before lunch. We’ve loads of time, the christening’s not till two-thirty.”
“Anything I can do to help?” Lacey asked.
“You’re such a whizz at setting the table, would you mind…?”
“Not at all.”
“And Dermid, could you take Andrew’s high chair from the kitchen and set it up in the dining room?”
“Sure.”
As Felicity went back to the nursery, Dermid ambled off and Lacey went into the dining room.
She set the table, using Felicity’s best linen and silver and crystal, and then taking white linen napkins from the drawer, she fashioned them into intricate swans and set them in the glasses by each place mat, smiling to herself as she stood back to admire her handiwork.
She detested housecleaning and she couldn’t cook but there was no denying she could set a mean table.
Dermid, on the other hand, hadn’t even managed to bring through the high chair!
As she made her way to the kitchen to take him to task, she heard Jordan’s voice.
“…yes of course we can talk about it,” he was saying.
“Later,” Dermid said. “After the party’s over. It’s private, Jordan, and personal. A family