That Wild Night

Darcy let out bitter laugh. “My measurements?”

“What the hell is wrong with you, Darcy? If it was just about your body—” And then he was right where he shouldn’t be. Inches from Darcy’s face, his eyes searching hers for any sign of the understanding he couldn’t believe wasn’t there. “Damn it, you know that wasn’t how it was. I wanted you!”

As soon as the words left his mouth he cursed himself for saying them. Going forward as they intended would be easier without the acknowledgment of an attraction that was more than physical driving the hot pursuit he hadn’t been able to shut down their first night together. But listening to Darcy sell herself short, he hadn’t been able to stop himself.

Only now, as he saw the surprise in her eyes—the flash of hurt or remorse, maybe?—he realized she didn’t know. Or at least hadn’t been sure.

How could she have missed it? Why hadn’t she believed him?

And what the hell difference did it make now? None.

Except perhaps to underscore yet another way in which he’d misperceived their initial connection. As much as he sometimes sensed that they were, he and Darcy weren’t on the same page. He needed to remember that.

Jeff cleared his throat and sat back.

What mattered now was getting Darcy to agree to getting out of this car when they arrived, moving into his mother’s house and if she was going to be bullheaded about the damn job thing, accepting the make-believe position of his mother’s assistant.

Which meant getting her to settle down in the next thirty seconds before they reached the turnoff for his house.

“Couple things we need to get straight, Darcy. Here’s what I know. You’ve got your G.E.D., have a clean credit history, no criminal record, pay your own rent on time every time and until the past three months when you ran into some unexpected health issues, have had an exemplary work record. You don’t fool around with customers…except that once, and you don’t appear to do much dating. None of which is going to matter to my mother at all. The only thing she cares about is you are going to have her grandchild. That and someone else is going to be confirming the floral arrangements for her luncheon next week.”

When she just stared at him, he stared right back. “You’re the mother of my child. So yeah, I did a web search on you.”

“All that came up?” she asked quietly, her brows inching up in a way that had the corners of his mouth twitching.

“No. It didn’t. Now, stop putting yourself down. I don’t like it.”

The car pulled to a stop at the foot of the flared stone stairs leading to the front door.

Darcy shot a tentative look toward the house. “It’s not like that’s the way I see myself,” she said quietly. “But I just don’t know how someone who hasn’t even met me yet could see anything else. And I don’t want—If I’m living under the same roof—”

Jeff reached across the car and took her hand. “It won’t be.”

And the reason why, had just flung open the front door.

* * *

Darcy’s heart began to thump, as Mrs. Norton, decked out in formfitting yoga gear and a disheveled ponytail, jogged down the stairs with a beaming smile and wide wave.

“Older?” she asked Jeff incredulously, wondering whether his father should have served time for taking a child bride. The woman couldn’t be fifty.

Helping her out of the car, he answered, “She’s older than we are.”

“Jeffrey! Darling, it’s so good to see you,” Mrs. Norton said, opening her arms wide to pull her six-foot-something son into her diminutive embrace. Then just as quickly as she’d pulled him in, she pushed him back, redirecting her focus on Darcy. Eyes that were the same warm hazel as Jeff’s met hers as she held out a hand in welcome. “Darcy, thank God you’ve agreed to help me. This couldn’t be more ideal. I was absolutely desperate and now we have the perfect opportunity to get to know each other. Ooh, I want to throw my arms around you, but Jeff would probably dive between us to protect you from my overzealous embrace. He’s twitchy about you. If you haven’t figured it out already.”

Darcy shot a surprised look over at Jeff, standing there, hands hooked into his pockets, totally at ease in this bizarre situation.

“Mrs. Norton, thank you very much for opening up your home to me.” She wanted to stress she wouldn’t be staying long, but there was something in the open, welcoming smile on her face that made Darcy feel to do so would somehow be an insult.

“Oh, please, not Mrs. Norton. It’s Gail. Believe me, five years from now when you’re hearing Mrs. Norton every time one of this little guy’s friends looks up at you, you’ll know what I mean.”

Darcy blanched at the reference to nuptials, but it was Jeff who jumped in to make the clarification. “Not Mrs. Norton, Mom. Ms. Penn.”

Gail’s cheeks went pink and her eyes squinched shut, but then she just laughed. “Oh, hell.”

With a deep breath she waved her hand about dismissively. “I know. It’s just the idea of having a little grandbaby— And as to Ms. Penn?” She shook her head conspiratorially. “In five years. Not a chance.”

“Mom.” This time Jeff’s voice was more serious. “Don’t—”

“Don’t worry, darling I won’t be pushing anyone in front of her until I’ve gotten to know her better. Why waste time with bad matches. Okay, come along now, kids. We’ll get Darcy settled and then after a bit of rest, give her the tour.”

“Honestly, Mrs. Nor—”

The arch look sailing over Jeff’s mother’s shoulder had her in place in a beat.

“Gail. You don’t need to go to any trouble for me.”

“Thank you, dear. But it’s no trouble at all. Honestly, I couldn’t be happier to have you here and just want you settled and comfortable as soon as possible.”

“All right. Then thank you.”

Gail nodded, her brisk steps taking her up the wide curving stairs to the still open front door. “I’m putting her in Connor’s old room.”

Darcy coughed, her eyes going wide as she looked over at Jeff. “Wow, Connor had a room to himself, huh.”

Jeff was walking beside her, the strap of one bag slung across his chest. The handles from the other duffel hanging from his hand. “He spent a lot of time here when we had breaks from school.” He answered distractedly, looking a bit tense all of the sudden. Was he having second thoughts about her being here? Or more likely he simply didn’t remember the line he’d used to pick her up. The joke about his ego named Connor. But in truth, it was probably better there not be some collection of inside jokes between them.

The connection she felt to this man was dangerous enough without the added intimacy.

CHAPTER NINE

UP IN CONNOR’S old room, a space Jeff knew nearly as well as his own, he looked around wondering at what Darcy would make of it. The walls were still sage-green. The trim the same white that ran through the rest of the house. But somehow every bit of lingering high school boy and college man had been stripped from the space within the past day. The shelves emptied of all but a few items—and those last few he was certain remained just to ensure Darcy didn’t walk into a space that felt barren and stark.

A gesture he appreciated after seeing how few belongings she actually owned.

He set the bags on the bed Darcy would be sleeping in. He’d never paid much attention before, but now, couldn’t help but notice it was king-size. Huge for a single woman sleeping alone.

Which despite his mother’s apparent desire to marry her off to someone—Darcy would be.

Mrs. Norton.

Not going to happen. Slip of the tongue or Freudian slip… His mother had been completely off base with that.

Darcy Norton.

He didn’t know her middle name.

He blinked. What the hell was he thinking? He didn’t need her middle name. Didn’t want to know it.

Because even if there was some lingering bit of attraction between them, it wasn’t the stuff Mrs. Nortons were made of.

Yeah, she was beautiful, and fun, and having his baby. But Darcy was one giant no trespassing sign. And not in some sexual sense—but, damn, he needed his head to stop going there, too.

She was just so unavailable. Different than he’d believed that first night.

“It’s bigger than my apartment.”

He turned to where Darcy stood in the doorway, her arms wrapped across her belly signaling her stomach wasn’t doing well, but hadn’t reached critical levels yet.

“And it comes furnished, too. You’ll have this room. The bathroom connects through there and you’ve got a sitting room with desk and computer on the other side.”

“Okay, so it’s a lot bigger than my apartment.”

“Think you’ll feel okay staying here?” It was such a strange question to ask, after he’d all but railroaded her into making the concession, swearing up and down she’d be comfortable.

Only now that she was precisely where he’d wanted to get her—the idea of actually leaving her here unsettled him in a way he couldn’t reconcile.

Darcy looked around. Crossed to the window and peered out over a view of the pool and tennis court. “Your mom is kind of a firecracker.”

“Yeah, she is. Make you uncomfortable?”

“No. It’s nice. She’s so…excited and welcoming. And it’s a relief, but still sort of a surprise.”

“Not what you were expecting.” He knew, from those last moments in the car.

Darcy turned to him, a tentative smile on her lips. He could see how overwhelmed she was. And tired. And then before he could stop to think about whether it was a good idea or not, he’d crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. It didn’t matter that they were strangers with this intimate past between them and uncertain future ahead. She was alone and he was there, and there wasn’t anyone else on hand to give her the hug she needed.

For an instant she stiffened within his hold, and he thought she might pull away. But then she simply gave herself over to it. Bowing her head into his chest with her arms tucked up between them at either side, she let him hold her.

“It’s going to be fine, Darcy. Give it a little time and all this is going to work out.”

She nodded and took one deep breath after another, melting further into him with each pass of his hand over her back.

“I know,” she whispered. “I’m just not used to being out of control.”

Jeff let out a quiet laugh. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m not much of a fan of it myself.”

“I’ve been taking care of myself since I was sixteen. I don’t like…help. I don’t like…needing things from other people. It makes me feel…trapped.”

Her voice broke the smallest extent on that last word, twisting something deep in his chest.

Leaning back just far enough to catch the side of her face and bring it up so she was looking into his eyes, he promised, “Don’t. Don’t feel that way about this. About being here. About anything.”

Their eyes were locked. Hers so vulnerable as she looked up at him, it made him ache to make it better. Made him ache to give her back all the things he’d seen in those eyes before. Steel, mirth, resolve, confidence…heat.

Hell.

Scratch that last. He didn’t want to think about what she’d looked like when it was heat filling her eyes. Desire. Need.

Not when she was standing within the circle of his arms as he told her everything was going to be fine. When she needed reassurance. Not the muscle memory of some residual attraction she wouldn’t be able to ignore springing to life between them.

But, she was so soft and warm and lush and…all the things he didn’t want to notice. Shouldn’t remember about the last time he felt her against his body, beneath his fingertips.

Setting her back a step, he walked to the door, not meeting her eyes as he spoke over his shoulder. “Why don’t you take a few minutes and then meet us downstairs? Get that tour underway.”

* * *

It wasn’t as though Darcy had thought Jeff would be moving in, too. She’d known he was simply dropping her off and then returning to the life he led in the city. They weren’t together. They weren’t a team. They weren’t going to get through all this together.

They were two people, who were going to be sharing a child.

She understood it and had every intention of adhering to those mutually agreed upon limits.

It was just that in a day filled with so much uncertainty and upheaval, he’d made her feel safe. A little less alone.

And for a few minutes, she’d clung to that.

But now, Jeff was leaning in to kiss his mother’s cheek. He’d already made certain Darcy had a list of two dozen phone numbers to use in case of emergency. And after a moment’s hesitation when he didn’t seem sure of whether to hug her or pat her arm, he leaned in and kissed her cheek, too. And then he left.

And Darcy stood staring at the closed door he’d walked out of, next to a woman she didn’t know, in a house she didn’t belong in.

Gail rested a hand at her elbow, offering a sympathetic look. “Are you all right with Jeffery gone?”

“I’ll be fine. Honestly.” It was so difficult to know what to say, circumstances being what they were. But meeting Gail’s eyes she got the sense Jeff’s mother was someone who appreciated the truth. “We hardly know each other.”

Gail looked toward the door. “Give it time. You’ll get to know each other, and figure out how exactly you fit into each other’s lives.”

The way the older woman said it, Darcy wondered if she was holding out hope for a more traditional outcome for their relationship.

“Until then, you can take my totally unbiased opinion as gospel. Jeffrey is a wonderful man, who is going to make as wonderful a father as his was to him. And in case you haven’t figured it out already, he’ll do just about anything to make sure his child has a stable, happy home. You’ll have everything you need. He’ll see to it. And so will I. So…” She leaned in with a conspiratorial wink that was so very Jeff, Darcy almost did a double take. “Would it help even the playing field a bit if I started telling you stories about all the times Jeffery lost his lunch as a boy?”

* * *

“In what universe are we living that you, a guy who makes me look like a pauper, would move your pregnant non-girlfriend into your parents’ spare room? You could buy the building next door to your office tomorrow. With cash. What the hell, man?”

Jeff gripped the wheel with fingers long gone white at the knuckles. “Give me a break, Connor. She’s staying in your old room, so it’s not like we’re talking about some hole down in the basement with a moldy futon. She’s got the entire west wing of the house to herself. She doesn’t even have to use the same door.”

“Glad to hear you aren’t trying to smuggle her in and out through the basement window, but seriously, your mom?”

Connor chuckled from across the miles, his voice going muffled as he invariably filled in his new wife, Megan, on the details. Then he said, “Megan wants to know if your mom is making her pizza puffs on demand.”

“Ha-ha. Megan’s a laugh a minute.”

“Man, I know it. She’s great.” Then quieter, as though there were a hand almost covering the phone, Connor said, “Come here, sweetheart… Great, see you in a few hours, gorgeous.”

When Connor’s attention was returned to the call, Jeff let out a tight breath. “It was the first thing I thought of. She wasn’t going to budge on the job thing. So I found her a job.”

“Working for your mom? And Darcy’s okay with it?”

“Not really. But for now, she’s agreed. So it’s a start.”

“So what happens once she realizes Gail doesn’t actually need any help with anything, from anyone—that if she wanted, she could probably add your job and mine to her mix of charitable foundations without breaking a sweat.”

Jeff stared out the windshield, toward a sea of congested taillights. “I’m hoping Mom can keep her highly efficient tendencies under wraps for at least a couple of months. Long enough to give Darcy a chance to get some rest and me a chance to come up with my next game plan.”

CHAPTER TEN

DARCY WOKE TO the unfamiliar and yet totally identifiable sound of lawn mowers from beyond her window. The sun shone in through the shades she’d neglected to close the night before, casting the room in a warm, golden glow she might have lingered in if not for her standing appointment with morning sickness.

Once taken care of, she showered, and then slipped into a pair of yoga pants and a thin, long sleeve T-shirt before heading downstairs. Gail had been gone when she woke up yesterday and only stopped in for a few minutes around late afternoon before disappearing through most of the evening, which had given Darcy the bulk of the day to familiarize herself with the house. She’d met the two housekeepers, Nancy and Viv, who had been incredibly warm and welcoming, right up to the minute she’d asked if she might help them out with anything. At which point those warm smiles had turned stern and she’d been pointed toward the couch and handed a glass of juice. Apparently, Jeff had spoken with them.

The break had been nice, but so much free time left her at loose ends, and she was looking forward to sitting down with Gail and finding out what her temporary position would entail and how quickly she could get her hands into something. Anything.

Stepping into the kitchen she found Gail standing at the farmhouse-style table a china cup in one hand, a tablet in the other. Stacks of folders spread out in front of her.

She looked up at Darcy’s entrance and smiled her son’s genuine smile. “Wonderful, you’re up! Sleep okay?”

“I did, thank you. How about yourself?”

Gail nodded, quickly, then flapped her hand at the air as if to brush aside the morning pleasantries. “I’d like us to be friends, Darcy. Real friends.”

“That would be nice,” she answered.

“It would. So in the interest of friendship, I suggest we make a pact to be honest with each other. Truthful. Up-front. So we always know where we stand.”

Nervous tension began to creep through her, because honesty had pretty much been the plan from the start. But maybe Gail wasn’t as okay with having her here as she’d sounded when Jeff was around. “All right.”

“Great! So I’ll start. Now honestly, do you want to dive right into your made-up, fake job this morning or—” she clutched her hands in front of her, like she was making a plea “—go shopping for baby clothes.”

* * *

Six hours later, Darcy was on the phone with the caterer, confirming Tuesday’s menu modification when Gail walked into the small office Darcy had made of her sitting room. Setting three binders on the edge of the small desk, she dropped into the chair on the opposite side. When Darcy wrapped up the call, Gail scanned the desk.

“For a fake job, we’ve actually scrounged up quite a bit to keep you busy.”

Darcy let out a short laugh. There’d been a candid discussion between them earlier about the motivation behind this manufactured position. Gail had asked Darcy to put a pin in her frustration toward Jeff and consider the opportunity before her. If Darcy was serious about continuing to work—and she was—this was an opportunity to expand her skill set and open up avenues in the employment market that wouldn’t have otherwise been available.

It was an offer Darcy realized she would be crazy not to take. And within the hour she’d been on the job with Gail only huffing the smallest amount over the decision not to go baby clothes shopping.

Darcy reached for the top binder, only to have her fingers swatted away.

“Part-time, fake job. You agreed to take it easy for a few weeks, so this one will have to wait. For now, Jeff’s got a friend of his—a doctor—stopping over in about an hour to check on you. Which leaves you some time for a phone call if you were planning to make one.”

* * *

Jeff stared down at the phone in his hand, not sure what shocked him most. That his mother—his supposed number one fan and most staunch supporter—had completely, unequivocally thrown him under the bus in favor of his pregnant non-girlfriend. Or that Darcy had thanked him for what he’d done.

Definitely the latter.

And she’d sounded genuine. Excited even. Enough so the piece of her mind she’d given him about scheduling a doctor’s appointment without consulting her first hardly stung at all. And in truth, he’d meant to call her about it, but then had ended up speaking to his mother and passing the message along, which had probably sounded more like a dictate, than the on condition she didn’t object, he’d assumed would be implied.

She was going to stay with his mom.

She was going to take it easy with the work thing.

And for the first time since he’d found out she was pregnant, Jeff breathed an almost easy breath.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“IF YOU DON’T give me that file,” Darcy warned, leaning over her small desk toward the pilfering grandmother-in-the-making/woman-of-steel who happened to be Jeff’s mother, “I’m—I’m—I’m not going baby clothes shopping with you this weekend.”

Gail looked down at the manila folder she’d swiped from Darcy’s hold and then looked back. “You said fifteen more minutes. That was over an hour ago.”

She had. But after two weeks of taking it easy, Darcy’s energy was back up. She’d regained a few pounds. And she’d found a satisfaction and meaning in the work she was doing she’d never had before. So on days like today, when the hormones ran rampant and her mood was a bit off, the work was her best distraction. And she didn’t want to give it up. Besides, there was a benefit coming up to raise funds for a series of summer programs for at-risk youth. She wasn’t ready to call it a day. Which meant she’d have to play hardball with Gail. “That little boutique we drove by Sunday…with the Frog Prince–themed window… I know you know the one. I know you want to go.”

Gail got a sort of fevered look in her eyes. Baby clothes were this Superwoman’s Kryptonite, and while Darcy mostly didn’t like to exploit the weakness…she knew Gail would respect her for it in the end.

The file flopped back onto her desk.

“Fine. You win. But I was hoping to talk you into joining me for dinner with the girls tonight.”

The invitation wasn’t totally unexpected. Gail had offered to include her in her plans more than a handful of times over the past few weeks, but Darcy had yet to take her up on it. And when she made her excuse tonight, Gail didn’t push but left with her usual, friendly “next time, then.”

By the time Darcy found a good stopping place and turned off her desk lamp, the house was empty, the sky beyond the window glass already dark. Picking at a dinner her stomach wasn’t interested in, she finished her book on pregnancy and motherhood. She watched five minutes worth of drivel on TV before turning it off in an impatient huff and setting out to walk the halls of the house, again.

When she reached the second floor, she turned toward her rooms but stopped instead at the first door on the left. Jeff’s room. Normally she kept walking but tonight, she was at a loose end. As always, the door was open. And as always she experienced a tug of curiosity about the space within, and what it might tell her about the man who’d called it his.

Scanning the room, her eyes snared on the built-in shelves behind a desk. The rows of trophies and medals: baseball, tennis, swimming, football, track. The evidence of Jeff’s achievements. It made her smile to think what he must have been like as a kid.

Gail had told her he’d been into mischief almost as much as he’d been out of it, but never in a way that was hurtful or destructive. She’d called him a rule bender. A perpetual charmer.

Traits apparently carried over into adulthood.

And if ever there was a man who made a bit of trouble look like fun, it was Jeff.

Pushing back from the doorframe she returned to her room. But her ping-ponging thoughts wouldn’t still. Would she have a little boy or a girl? Was Jeff hoping for one over the other? What would labor feel like? Would Jeff be there? Would he stay cool? Hold her hand? Tell her not to be scared?