Waking Up with the Boss (11 page)

“Maybe for a few minutes.” She let him escort her to the couch, where she sat down and admitted the truth. “I'm dizzy, but I've got morning sickness, too.”

He looked confused. “But it's afternoon.”

“It can happen at any hour. The queasiness just started, about ten minutes ago. For the very first time.”

“Damn. Do you want a cup of water or anything?”

“Soda sounds good.” Hopefully it would settle her stomach. “There's lemon-lime pop in the fridge.”

He headed to the kitchen, returning with the drink she'd requested. Carol gripped the can, appreciating how cold it was. She flipped the top and took a small sip.

“Thank you,” she said after she swallowed it.

“You're welcome, but you still look like hell.”

“Gee, thanks.”

He sat beside her. “I didn't mean it like that.”

She sipped a bit more of the soda, afraid she might faint, falling headfirst onto his lap. “If I pass out, don't panic.”

“Oh, crap. Really? Tell me what to do.”

She didn't have a clue. She'd never lost consciousness before. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” He sounded on the verge of panic already. “Maybe you should put your head between your knees. I always heard that's what someone should do. But maybe not in your condition.” Clearly, he was clueless, too. “Do you want to lie down?”

“Yes, I think I should.” She handed him the soda, and he moved off the couch, giving her room to stretch out. Between the wooziness and the nausea, she wasn't doing well.

Carol reclined, and Jake towered over her, peering down at her face. This had to be miserable for him.

“I'm sorry,” she said.

“It's not your fault.” He blew out a ragged breath. “I can finish packing. There isn't that much left to do.”

“You're so helpful.” She teased him, trying to ease the tension. “Are you going to change diapers when the baby is born, too?”

“I guess I'm going to have to learn. But I also think I should hire a nanny to go back and forth between your place and mine. I can turn the second guest wing in my house into the nanny's quarters. Then she can stay there whenever the baby sleeps at my place.”

As opposed to him coming over to Carol's house to tuck their child in at night, like he'd originally planned? “I just wish that feeling lousy wasn't part of this. Being queasy is the worst.”

“I hope I don't get queasy when I have to change a dirty diaper. I used to gag when I was kid and I had to pick up dog poop.”

She squinted up at him. This was a weird conversation, but at least it was helping her focus on something besides being sick. “You had a dog?”

“No. But my sisters and I used to pet-sit for a neighbor. I was terrible at it. I wonder if we should get our kid a puppy, though.”

“That's sweet. But maybe we'll stick to stuffed animals at first.” She sat up and reached for the soda, taking it from him. “I'm starting to feel better now.”

His gaze locked on to hers. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” She brought the can to her lips. But a second later, the queasiness came back tenfold.

When her stomach roiled, she knew she was going to throw up. She just hoped that she made it to the bathroom in time. Leaping forward, she thrust the soda at him, but he wasn't expecting it, and the drink fell between them and spilled to the floor. That didn't stop Carol from dashing off down the hall.

Thank goodness she managed to get to the bathroom in time to empty the contents of her stomach into the toilet.

Afterward, she flushed the handle. On wobbly legs, she stood and rinsed her mouth, then turned around and realized that she'd left the door open. And much to her mortification, Jake was standing there. Had he been there the whole time?

“Let me help,” he said as he removed a washcloth from the towel rack and ran it under the tap.

He handed her the cool cloth so she could dampen her skin. She thanked him and sank back to the floor, sitting beside the commode. He got onto the floor with her.

“I feel like I have a hangover,” she said.

He smiled. “I'll bet you've never been
that
drunk in your life.”

“That's true. But it's what I imagine it must feel like.” Less embarrassed, she was glad he was here. “I'll bet you've been
that
drunk.”

“Hell, yes. I've prayed to the porcelain more times than you ever will.”

“I just might beat your record if this keeps up.” She lifted the washcloth from her forehead and set it on her lap. “But I'm all right now.”

“You said that right before you ran in here.”

“I know, but I mean it this time. I'm actually getting kind of hungry.”

“Really?” He seemed relieved. “For what?”

A treat instantly came to mind. “A steamed artichoke. Doesn't that sound good?”

“Not particularly.” He gave her a perplexed look. “Who wants an artichoke after they throw up?”

She did apparently. And they'd never even been her favorite food. She liked them, sure. But they sounded heavenly right now. “Will you go the store and get me one? Actually, you better make it two, in case one isn't enough.”

He looked dumbfounded. “Do they sell them already steamed?”

“Of course not. I'll have to cook them. Go on.” She pushed at his shoulder. “You can go to the farmer's market down the street. They'll be fresher there.”

“Oh, wow,” he said. “This is a craving, isn't it?” His dark eyes lit up. “You're having your first craving.”

“I guess I am.” And it was mighty powerful, too. But she was going to think of it as her second craving. Because the first one was for Jake himself on those forbidden nights that she'd climbed into bed with him.

Like a dutiful father-to-be, he left to get the artichokes, mumbling about how clever their kid was, already figuring out ways to control them.

While he was gone, she went into the living room to wipe up the spilled soda, with their brilliant little baby in tow.

Eleven

C
arol had been living at Jake's house for three weeks. She still was queasy, on and off, but none of the morning sickness medications worked, so she handled it the old-fashioned way, keeping crackers in her desk at work. At home, she relaxed as much as she could.

The guest wing that had become her temporary residence was as big as her apartment, if not a little bigger. Bright and beautiful, with modern furnishings, it offered all sorts of luxuries, including a private patio surrounded by natural landscape.

Since her quarters also had a kitchen, she was able to cook for herself. She was still eating the devil out of steamed artichokes, along with whatever else she was in the mood for. The chef made special things for her, too, in the main kitchen, spoiling her with his culinary genius. His name was Raymond, and he was a charmingly robust man, old enough to be her grandfather.

Raymond didn't live at the mansion. He came and went, providing meals, per Jake's request. Typically, Jake fixed his own breakfast, which consisted of a protein shake his trainer had designed for him. He only ate bacon and eggs and things like that when he traveled. Otherwise, he stuck to his regular routine. Carol wouldn't drink one of those awful-looking shakes if you paid her.

As for Jake's maid, she didn't live on the property, either. She arrived every Monday, like clockwork, and cleaned his private suite. Another set of housekeepers were scheduled on Mondays, too; they tidied up the rest of the mansion. Carol never left a mess for them in her wing. She'd already gotten into the habit of cleaning on Sundays before they came.

On this quiet day off, she didn't know what to do with herself. At noon, she was wandering around her wing, still dressed in her pajamas.

She didn't have any sewing left to do. Last week she'd completed the Caribbean quilt for Jake, and he'd been thrilled to receive it. He'd draped it on the wall in the room that was going to be the nursery. He thought the quilt was even more special since their child had been conceived that weekend. For a man who'd never wanted children, he was doing what he could to embrace fatherhood.

Suddenly, her phone beeped, signaling a text. When she saw it was from Jake, her heart skipped a girlish beat.

The message read,
Garrett wants to stop by and bring you something. Is that all right?

Yes. Of course
, she replied.

Come to the living room and we'll wait for him.

She typed out,
Be there in a few
.

He ended the conversation with a simple,
OK
.

Carol set down her phone and went to her closet, removing a casual sundress to wear. Living in a house this big was crazy. And so was her emotional attraction to Jake. She'd been having way too many dreamy thoughts about him, and his tenderness over the baby was compounding her feelings.

But Jake was still wild at heart. She could see it every time she looked into his eyes. Becoming a parent wasn't curbing his restless spirit. If anything, the responsibility that had been thrust upon him was intensifying it.

Carol headed to the living room and spotted Jake standing at a big picture window, gazing out at the view.

She didn't disturb him or alert him that she was there. Instead, she took the time to study him: the familiarity of his body, the width of his shoulders, the way his T-shirt stretched across the muscles in his back, his long denim-clad legs.

A moment later, his posture changed, as if he'd just sensed her presence. He turned around, and she braced herself for the impact he was sure to cause.

“There you are,” he said.

“Yes.” There she was, struggling with her attraction to him.

“How's Artichoke?” he asked.

Carol smiled. That had become his nickname for the baby. “Fine. It's behaving.”

“So you're doing okay today, too?”

She nodded. As well as an uncomfortably smitten woman could be.

Jake remained near the window. Since she'd moved into his mansion, they'd been keeping a deliberate physical distance from each other. It didn't diminish the electricity in the air. Their chemistry buzzed like honeybees pumped up on nectar. Carol could almost taste the sexy sweetness.

Before things got too quiet, she asked, “When will Garrett be here?”

“Soon.” He finally took a step forward.

But not close enough to make a difference, she thought. “Did Garrett say what he's bringing me?”

“No, but it's not from him. It's from his mom. He told her about us, so the gift probably has something to do with the baby. She would have come with him, but she isn't feeling well today.”

Although Carol had met Shirley Snow a few times over the years, she didn't really know her very well. “I'm sorry to hear that.”

“She's always had her ups and downs.”

Carol nodded. She was aware of the older woman's health issues and how her symptoms were worse at times than others. “It was nice of her to think of me.”

“Yeah, she's a sweet lady. She's got Garrett twisted up about the girl who embezzled from us, though.”

Jake explained what was going on, filling Carol in about Meagan needing a job in order to get paroled. Since the crime had been committed before Carol had worked for Jake, she barely knew anything about it. When he brought up the part about Meagan having a daughter, Carol thought about the child in her own womb.

She said, “I wonder if she would have stolen the money and taken the chance of going to prison if she'd known ahead of time that she was pregnant.”

“I doubt she would have risked it.” He hesitated. “But it's tough to know for sure. I keep trying to give her the benefit of the doubt because of the things I did when I was young.”

“It's terrible that her daughter was born under those circumstances.”

“It bothers me, too, especially now that we're having a kid.” Jake lowered his gaze to her stomach. “Would it be all right if I put my hand there? Just to see if it feels different from before?”

Carol didn't know what to say. If he touched her, she feared that she might like it, far more than she should. “It's too early. I'm not even showing yet.”

“I know, but the baby is still in there. Of course I won't do it if you don't want me to.”

“No, it's okay. You can,” she offered foolishly. Refusing didn't seem like an option.

He walked up to her and placed his palm against the waist of her dress. His touch was warm and tender, affecting her in a dreamy way. She could have been floating, like their mermaid, out to sea.

But all too soon, the memory of making love with him hit her like a heap of crumbled sand. If he stripped her naked, here and now, would she fall willingly at his feet?

He kept his hand painstakingly still. But when she looked up at him and their gazes met, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her toward him.

They stared at each other, poised for a kiss.

The doorbell rang, jarring both of them to their senses. Jake jumped back, and Carol smoothed her dress.

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded and followed him to the front door to greet their guest. Garrett came inside, but he told them that he couldn't stay long, so they stood in the foyer, dwarfed by its museum-height ceiling and stylish staircase.

Garrett was dressed in business attire, as if he'd just come from the hotel. He was as polished as ever, with his slicked-back hair and impeccable posture. He was holding Carol's gift, wrapped in plain white tissue paper.

“Hey there,” he said to her.

“Hey yourself.” She'd always liked him. But they had similar personalities, with practical natures. Of course, the exception was when Carol had gone wild on that weekend with Jake, playing around and getting pregnant.

As the father of her child stepped back, Garrett handed Carol the package. Even before she opened it, he said, “It's a medicine bag that my mom made for you. She gave one to Jake when he was younger, and to Max, too. And me, of course. And now that you're becoming part of our little ragtag group, she wanted you to have one, as well.”

Carol nearly cried on the spot. She wanted to belong to them. She removed the tissue paper and unveiled the leather bag. It was exquisitely beaded, from top to bottom.

“It's beautiful,” she said, her voice catching. “So incredibly beautiful. Please thank your mother for me, and tell her that I'll come see her when she's well enough for company.”

“She'd like that.” Garrett gestured to the bag. “It's bigger than the one Mom gave us guys, but she made it so you could include things for the baby, too. In fact, she already put some stones inside of it to get you started.”

“Really?” Carol lifted the flap and peered into the bag. Sure enough, she saw pretty little rocks.

“They're easy to identify,” Garrett said. “I can tell you what's there and what they mean.”

“Okay, then tell me.” She desperately wanted to know.

“All right. The red one promotes fetal growth, the green one aids child development and the pink one stimulates a bonding between an infant and its mother.”

She loved the sentiment already. “What are the names of each of those stones?”

“Red jasper, green aventurine and pink calcite.”

“That is easy.” She noticed a multicolored crystal stone that he hadn't mentioned. “What about this last one?”

“That's angel aura quartz. Jake told me that he was concerned about keeping you and the baby safe, and when I mentioned that to Mom, she thought it would help. To bring angels to you.”

Feeling far too emotional, Carol glanced at Jake. He was looking at her in the same way, as if both of their hearts had just gotten stuck in their throats.

After she and Jake broke eye contact, Garrett said, “You can put anything in the bag that feels special to you. There are no rules about what goes inside.”

“It's a perfect gift,” she replied. “I'm going to hang it beside my bed.”

“I'm glad you like it.” Garrett straightened his tie out of what seemed like habit. “But I better head out now. I've got a meeting.”

“Thank you again. And please give your mom a hug from us.”

The hotel magnate smiled, his rugged features softening. “From you and the baby?”

“Yes.” She returned his smile. She and the little one in her womb were a package deal.

Garrett turned to Jake and said goodbye to him, too. Jake clapped him on the back, and they embraced, both of them appearing strong and brotherly.

Once they separated, Garrett exited the mansion, leaving Jake and Carol alone.

* * *

After Garrett was gone, Jake and Carol remained in the foyer. He couldn't stop looking at her, no matter how hard he tried. He was mesmerized by how reverently she was handling the medicine bag. Everything about her drew his attention.

“You were right about that being the perfect gift,” he said.

“I'll have to think about what I'm going to put in it. But I love how Shirley included the stones already.”

“It's interesting that you're going to keep it beside your bed. That's where I keep mine.”

“You do? I never noticed yours there.” She quickly amended, “But I haven't spent time in your suite.”

And especially not in the vicinity of his bed, he thought. “It's hanging with a dream catcher Shirley also made for me.”

“I always wondered about those, with the netting and the feathers and how popular they've become.”

“They're supposed to protect you while you're sleeping. The bad dreams get caught in the net and break apart by morning. But the good ones slip through the hole in the center and glide down to the feathers, allowing you to keep those dreams.”

She met his gaze. “Do you have bad dreams, Jake?”

“I used to, after I lost my family. I dreamed about the crash. And the fire. I would see the car burning in my nightmares, with demons rising up out of the ashes.” He glanced at his arm, where the image of the fire god was. Uncta was his first tattoo. He'd had to wait until he'd turned eighteen to get it. His ink had been a long time coming.

She shifted her feet. “I had bad dreams when I first lost my family, too. But I can't recall them now. Not the details, anyway. But I do remember that I used to wake up crying in the middle of the night.” She pressed the medicine bag closer to her body. “Then I would be afraid to go back to sleep.”

“That's understandable.” He thought about how her family had died, asleep in their beds, poisoned by a deadly gas while she was at a slumber party. “What happened that morning, Carol? Who found them?” This wasn't a conversation he'd intended to have. But for whatever reason, he needed to know. “It wasn't you, was it?”

“No.” She tightened her hold on the bag. “But it became apparent, rather quickly, that something was wrong. My mom was supposed to come get me that morning and take me home. It was only a few blocks from our house, but Mom didn't want me coming back by myself. Of course she never showed up. She didn't answer the phone when I called, either, so my friend's mother drove me home.”

“The mom who was hosting the slumber party?”

“Yes. Mrs. Reynolds. Later, I found out that her first name was Nancy. Anyway, when we got there, the front door was locked, but our garage had a little window. Nancy peered into it and saw that both cars were there.”

“You didn't have a key?”

She shook her head. “My parents didn't allow us kids to be home by ourselves so there was no reason for me to have a key. They were waiting until I was a little older to give me that kind of responsibility. They were overprotective. It's just who they were.” She paused, took a breath. “Nancy brought me back to her house and called the police. They're the ones who found my family.”

And everything changed for her, Jake thought. Just the way it had changed for him. “I'm probably going to be overly protective with our child.” He was already having concerns about keeping the baby safe in Carol's womb.