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“Okay you accept my apology or okay you’ll let me give you a ride home?”
“I’ll take the ride.”
He looked surprised, as if she hadn’t put up nearly as big a fight as he’d expected.
Ten minutes later she slid onto the smoothest kid leather seat she’d ever seen in a fancy sedan like his. It was soft and cushy, too, and, oh, the headrest was adjusted perfectly to her neck. She touched the button to lower the head of the seat, making it like a lounge chair, and snuggled in after clicking her seat belt.
John didn’t say a word, but she could see his cheek lift in that unbalanced smile of his. He’d won. He knew it.
But she was reaping the benefits.
Before he’d even exited the parking structure, she closed her eyes and drifted off to a sweet dream about being curled up on the softest sofa in the world, while the sexiest guy she’d ever met touched her knee and talked to her softly.
CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_4f3ffbb7-f6d9-5df9-bff2-7da3ac3bbab8)
JOHN PARKED THE car, walked around to the other side, opened the passenger door and lifted Polly up and out. She slept sounder than his mother’s cat, and only stirred when he pulled her to his chest.
“Shh, go back to sleep,” he whispered in her ear, as he motioned with his head to the doorman of his building to let them in.
Marco the doorman gave a deeply inquisitive look but followed orders. John had been a resident in the building for three years now and had never brought a woman home in this condition.
“Drunk,” John mouthed to Marco, who gave an affirmative Aha nod.
“Park the car in your usual spot?” Marco whispered.
John nodded, knowing his car keys would be left in the parking-garage office where he paid a hefty monthly fee for the privilege of driving and parking in New York City.
He punched the elevator button with his elbow and hoped Polly didn’t wake up until he was ready. He’d driven the long way home around Central Park to make sure she’d fallen asleep deeply enough once he’d decided to bring her here.
As he rode the elevator to the ninth floor, he took the liberty to study her close up—flawless skin, though maybe a little pale, ash-blonde hair with waves that made him want to dig his fingers in every time he saw her. Her thick brown lashes fluttered the tiniest bit under his scrutiny and her nostrils twitched as she breathed softly. She was sweet and tender, and he felt the urge to kiss her.
The elevator door opened, and though it was a bit tricky to unlock his door with one hand while holding Polly with the other, he balanced her on his thigh and succeeded, and had them inside in no time at all. Before anyone on his floor had a chance to wonder what in the world he was doing with a woman in his arms on a Monday night at this late hour. He chuckled inwardly, thinking how they’d never probably even seen him with a woman before, had probably assumed he was gay or celibate.
The condo was dark, but he knew his way around by heart and took her immediately to the guest bedroom, where he carefully laid her on the double bed. She stirred but only to reposition herself on her side. Not wanting to freak her out in case she woke up, which surprisingly she still hadn’t, he laid a comforter over her, left the door ajar and went to the kitchen. There, he turned on the light and rummaged around the refrigerator for something to eat.
Three bites into a turkey and Cheddar sandwich he heard the gasp. “Where am I?”
He rushed down the hall to the bedroom. “Don’t worry, you’re at my place.”
“Why am I here?” She came to the door looking groggy and very appealing with mussed-up hair and heavy-lidded eyes.
“You didn’t tell me where you lived before you fell asleep, and you looked so comfortable I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”
“So you thought you’d make me a prisoner at your house?”
“You’re not a prisoner.”
“Then you’ll take me home?”
“If you insist.”
She stood staring, obviously considering his offer. Maybe she needed some convincing.
“Look, I was thinking of your best interests. I’ve got the guest bedroom and you’ll get a good night’s sleep, then I’ll take you home in the morning.”
“I don’t have to work tomorrow because I did the double shift.”
“That’s fine.”
“Don’t you have to be at work?”
“Not until nine. It’s my clinic day.”
“So you’ll take me home before you go to work?”
He nodded.
She leaned against the doorframe looking drowsy and too tired to put up a fight. “Where’s your bathroom, please?”
He gestured with his forehead towards the door down the hall, then took another bite of sandwich.
On her way back to the guest room she slowed down by the kitchen and gave him a suspicious glance. “Don’t get any ideas about sneaking into that room tonight.” She pointed to the guest room.
“I won’t.”
“Because what we did was a one-time deal.”
He didn’t bother to swallow his bite of sandwich. “By my count, that was a three-time deal.”
Obviously too tired to put up a fight, she tossed him an aggravated look then went inside the guest room and closed the door. At least she didn’t lock it. He took the last bite of sandwich and decided he’d got a kick out of riling her. Come to think of it, there was a lot about Polly he got a kick out of. Now, if there was only a way to get her back into his life on much better terms.
Early the next morning, John had a full breakfast prepared by the time he tapped on her door and woke her up. She rolled out of the room, stretching and yawning and looking even more inviting than she had the night before.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“Seven. Have some coffee. It’s decaf,” he said, before she could protest. Somehow he knew she’d take good care of the pregnancy. “I’ve scrambled some eggs and there’s fresh OJ over there. Do you like wheat or sourdough toast?”
“Wheat,” she said, before closing the bathroom door.
The fact that she didn’t throw a hissy fit or make a major protest about getting home right this minute gave him hope, and that notion made him smile. Maybe she was back to being that people-pleaser he liked so much, though the feisty version of Polly definitely had its merits. He smiled and pushed some perfectly scrambled eggs onto a second plate then sprinkled some finely grated Cheddar cheese on top.
They sat on bar stools in companionable silence while they ate at his granite counter.
“Tastes good,” she said, eating a second piece of toast slathered with blackberry jam.
“You’re eating for two now, right?”
He’d named the elephant in the room, and she took her time to respond. “I don’t need you to remind me.” Her gaze was brief and filled with icy-blue warning.
“I want to be a part of this pregnancy, Polly.”
“That’s not the impression I got when I told you about it.”
“I was in shock.”
“You wanted nothing to do with me or this pregnancy. You tried to pay me off, as if I’d go away and never mention another word about it.”
He reached for her hand and squeezed. “I didn’t mean it to come off that way. I wanted you to know you weren’t in it alone, and that you didn’t have to worry about money. That’s all.”
She dropped her gaze toward her lap. “We’re not for sale.”
If that was the metaphor she wanted to run with, he’d play along. “Look at it from my perspective.” He pointed to her stomach. “There’s prime real estate inside there, and though you may be the landlord, I own half of it.”
She made a face at him. “Have you always been this romantic?”
He shrugged. “It’s a gift.”
“You don’t have the right to make it all neat and tidy like that. Like a business deal.” Polly shoved another bite of egg into her mouth and stared straight ahead. Once she’d swallowed, she leveled a serious gaze at him. “I don’t have a clue what your issues are, but since I believe you do need to be there for this baby I’ll generously consider whatever part of ‘being there for this pregnancy’ you think you can handle.”
He grinned. That was the people-pleasing Polly he knew. “Good. For starters, I intend to go to all obstetric appointments with you.”
Her eyebrows dropped and furrowed. “That’s a very private thing.”
“And one doesn’t wind up pregnant by not doing a few very private things with the father of the baby, does one?”
She sighed. “Okay, you can come to the OB appointments.”
“And you should let me cook for you at least twice a week.”
“You cook?”
“What do you call these scrambled eggs?”
“A six-year-old can scramble eggs, Johnny.”
She’d called him Johnny again, and he’d consider it progress. “I happen to be a good cook, and I want to make sure you get a balanced diet.”
“Look, I may have gotten knocked up with little effort but I am not an idiot. I know how to eat healthily.”
“There was a lot of effort involved in you getting pregnant, as I recall, and for the record you didn’t get ‘knocked up’, as you so poetically put it, on your own.”
Silence stretched on for a few seconds while he regrouped. How long would he have to keep pointing out to her that she didn’t have to be in this alone? If he didn’t handle things right this time, he could blow it all for good.
“I was on birth-control pills,” she said. “I swear I was, but I’d taken antibiotics a few weeks back for a sinus infection.”
“I see.” He understood perfectly what she was getting at, she didn’t want him to think she’d set him up. Antibiotics could interfere with birth control pills’ potency and effect for a couple of weeks after use, enough to make a woman potentially vulnerable to pregnancy. Under the circumstances, and without added protection, which they’d completely blown off that night, pregnancy wasn’t out of the question. Polly and her baby onboard were living proof.
John ate the remainder of his breakfast vigorously. The real question was, though, why hadn’t she thought about that when they’d made love? Ah, hell, why hadn’t he thought about anything but how much he’d wanted her that night? There was no point in making this a blame game. What was done was done. They’d had sex, hot sex, and made a baby.
Though there was no way on earth he could invest emotionally in the pregnancy, or be a proper father, he could at least be an ally for Polly during a time when she would definitely need a friend. As for after the pregnancy? He downed the last of his orange juice. Well, he was content to take it one step at a time for now, and she’d just have to understand.
“So I’ll wait for you at the hospital parking lot on Thursday when you get off work, and take you to your appointment.”
“Okay.” She sounded like a teenager who’d given up on getting out of a major book report. “But can you take me home now? I’d really like to shower.”
“Of course.”
On Thursday, Polly ran a little late after change-of-shift report and had to run-walk to meet John at the car. He’d had the car brought up to the entrance and leaned against his silver sedan, checking his watch as she jogged his way.
“Sorry! We had some late admits and I couldn’t just dump and run.”
“I’ve already called the doctor’s office and let them know we may be a little late. I’ll drop you off in front then park.”
“Great. Thanks.” She fixed the flying strands of hair around her face, knowing her skin was probably shiny from working hard all day and that her colored lip gloss had long ago been chewed off. “I really appreciate it.”
“It’s the least I can do.”
The least he could do, was that how he looked at it? Was he only trying to get away with doing the bare minimum so as not to come off as a deadbeat? Boy, had she been there and done that with her aunts and uncles after her mother had died. Every part of that equation made her skin crawl, yet here she was, riding in John Griffin’s fancy car on her way to the doctor’s appointment he’d arranged. She was sick of people going through the motions on her behalf, but that seemed to be the repetitious hand life had dealt her. Resigned, she’d just have to make the best of it this time, not for her but for her baby’s sake.
Dr. Bernstein’s nurse was ready for her the minute she walked in and whisked her into one of the examination rooms in the glamorous medical suite. She had no intention of letting John in on the actual examination.
The doctor looked to be around John’s age and had gentle hands and an affable personality. He looked intently into her eyes as she explained her side of the pregnancy, and she believed him when he promised to keep her and the baby healthy and happy for the next eight and a half months.
“You can get dressed then meet me in my office,” he said on his way out the door after the thorough examination.
Polly suffered a surprise when she entered Dr. Bernstein’s office only to find John already sitting there, chatting amicably with “Geoff”, as he called him. The moment Polly stepped inside the conversation stopped and John shot up. He reached over and pulled out the chair next to him so she could sit. She’d give him points for always being a gentleman.
“Polly,” Dr. “Geoff” started right in, “you are a healthy young woman, and at this early stage in the process I’d say you’re going to do well. Your uterus and cervix look good, the pregnancy is implanted securely in your uterus lining, and your pelvic cradle should handle the body changes just fine. I want to get some baseline lab work done for you and start you on prenatal vitamins. In a couple of weeks we’ll do an ultrasound.” He scribbled on a prescription pad, ripped it off and handed it to her, then sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “Do you have any questions?”
“My due date?”
“Right. My calculations show March twenty-eighth, give or take a day or two.”
The skin on her shoulders and arms prickled. Somehow, this actual date of birth made everything come into focus. It was real. She’d have a baby and be a mom beginning March twenty-eighth. John must have noticed her emotional reaction when he put his arm around her shoulders and tugged her close. She couldn’t help the brimming tears. She was going to be a mother in eight short months from now. Only because the long and stressful day had caught up with her, and she needed it right this moment, she accepted John’s comfort as she buried her weeping eyes on his shoulder.
Back at the car, John grinned at her as he let her in the passenger side. “You agreed to let me fix you dinner twice a week, and I thought tonight would be a good time to get that routine rolling.”
“You don’t even know if I have food allergies or anything.” She’d recovered from the emotional high in the doctor’s office and had pulled up her guard again.
“Chicken tetrazzini with wholegrain noodles and a garden salad.”
Her mouth watered at the description. “I hate onions. Does it have onions?”
“Not now. I hope you like garlic, though.”
She bobbed her head as she slid inside the car. Hating having to hold back all her excitement about being pregnant, she tightened her jaw and ground her teeth for most of the ride back to John’s condo.
Marco the doorman gave her and John a knowing nod when they walked inside, and it made her pause. Had she ever seen him before? The small but tasteful lobby gave her the impression that well-off, long-time New Yorkers lived in the building. What a difference from her turn-of-the-century walk-up.
