Rachel's Bundle of Joy Page 3

  And he’d turned out to be her dear friend Lily’s two-timing fiancé. She was never letting anything like that happen again.

  They were still standing by their booth. The busboy kept eyeing them, no doubt waiting for them to go so he could clear the table.

  She took Bryce’s hand. “Come on.”

  They left the restaurant. Outside, the rain that had been falling for most of the day had turned to a misty drizzle. They rushed across the wet walkway to the mall entrance, Rachel in the lead. Once inside, he slowed. She felt the tug on her hand and turned to him.

  “Just wondering.” He grinned.

  “Wondering what?”

  “Where we’re going.”

  “This way.” She marched on, dragging him along—to the bench where they’d waited for the mall cop. A pair of elderly ladies had claimed it. The ladies sat with their silver heads close together, shopping bags in a bright spill around their feet. The bench across from them was unoccupied.

  Rachel hauled Bryce over to it, commanding, “Sit down.” He sat. She perched beside him, sliding her shopping bags between her feet and setting her purse in what was left of her lap. “Are you married?”

  His brows drew together. “Rachel, what’s—?”

  Before he could finish, she demanded, “Well, are you?”

  “No.”

  “Engaged?”

  He moved back a little. “No.”

  “Separated?”

  “Rachel. I’ve never been married.”

  “Is there anyone? Some…special woman you’re seeing who’s not going to be happy when she hears you took a strange pregnant lady home for the afternoon?”

  “A strange pregnant lady?”

  Was he teasing her? She scowled at him. “You know what I mean. A stranger. A woman you don’t even know. Forget the fact that I’m pregnant. It wasn’t the point.”

  He was frowning now. “Rachel. What’s going on? Why are you so damned angry? What did I do?”

  She opened her mouth to tell him…what? She sighed. “It’s not you.”

  “Well. That’s something.”

  “Just answer my question. Do you have a special woman friend? You know what I mean. An exclusive relationship. Are you committed to anyone?”

  The silver-haired ladies were watching them. Rachel turned her scowl on them and they quickly looked away.

  “Rachel.”

  “What?”

  “No.”

  She forgot about the silver-haired ladies—for the moment, anyway. “No?”

  “There’s no one…special. There’s honestly not.”

  “Oh.” She twisted her purse strap. Now what? “Listen…” She paused to swallow. “I…well, it’s not that I think something’s going to happen between us. I mean, I just, well, I don’t want some innocent woman hurt because I didn’t have the sense to ask you—”

  “Rachel,” he said softly.

  “What?”

  “It’s okay. I understand.”

  “You do?” He nodded. She couldn’t help asking again, “You really do?”

  “Yeah. It’s a question you have every right to ask, and, as I said before, the answer is no. There’s no one. I am one-hundred-percent unequivocally single. And while we’re on this subject, what about you?”

  Her throat kept clutching. She swallowed some more. “Me?”

  Now he looked very patient. “Yes, Rachel. You.”

  “Well, but I told you, back there in Becky & Huck’s. I’m single. Completely, totally, utterly single.”

  “And what about your baby’s father?”

  Her baby’s father…

  Oh, she could not explain that one, especially not here in the mall, with shoppers strolling by and the silver-haired ladies very likely listening in. “He’s… not involved. I promise you.”

  “How ‘not involved?”’

  “Bryce.”

  “Yeah?”

  She leaned close and whispered, so that only he would hear. “For now, you’re just going to have to trust me on that one. The father of my baby is not a factor. That’s all I can say, at this point.” She hitched her purse back over her shoulder and reached for her shopping bags. “And you know, maybe we should just—”

  He caught her arm before she could stand, warm strong fingers digging in just a little. “Don’t run away.”

  She sank back to the bench. “Oh, I don’t know…”

  He let go of her arm and he shrugged. That shrug told her everything. She should come to a decision. He was through pushing her.

  “All right,” she said, feeling just a little bit foolish that she’d made such a big deal about all this—but then again, not that foolish. She really had needed the answer to the question she’d asked him. “Yes, let’s go to your house.”

  He started to smile.

  “But I get to pick the movie,” she teased.

  “Your choice. All the way.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Rachel agreed to follow him to his place in her own car. But first she got his home address and phone number and took a minute to call a friend, so someone would know where she was going. Michael Carson had not only almost cost her her two best friends, he’d also made her more than a little careful when it came to hooking up with a new guy.

  She’d learned the sad truth that a dream man can very easily turn into a girl’s worst nightmare.

  “I think someone should know where I am,” she explained to Bryce, “since I did only just meet you…”

  He seemed to have no problem with her emphasis on caution. “Makes sense to me.”

  She got out her phone and auto-dialed Lily Tyler—correction: Lily Stone. Lily had been married for months now, to Jake Stone, a longtime friend who had turned out to be the hero—and the husband—Michael Carson could never be.

  “Rachel.” She could hear the smile in her friend’s voice.

  There was whimpering in the background. “Is that Samantha I hear?” Lily’s baby was three weeks old.

  “We are very fussy today.”

  “Give her a big kiss for me.”

  “Will do. So what’s up?”

  Bryce had wandered over to the Nordstrom entrance and appeared to be studying a display of camping gear—giving her space to make her call. He seemed to sense she was looking his way. He met her eyes. Warmth flooded through her.

  “Rachel?” Lily prompted.

  “I’m right here.” Rachel ordered her mind back on the business at hand—at which point it occurred to her that she hardly knew where to start. “You’re not going to believe this…I, well, I met someone. I mean, it’s nothing serious. I only just met him. But I like him. A lot. He invited me to his house. And I want to go.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “Lloyd Center.”

  “You met him at the mall?”

  Rachel stiffened. “Something wrong with that?”

  “Don’t get cranky. Please. I’ve got Sam if I’m looking for someone to fuss at me. I’m just trying to understand what’s going on.”

  Rachel muttered a contrite, “Sorry—and it’s a long story. I’ll fill you in later. The deal is, I like him and I’m going to his house for the afternoon and I want you to have his phone number and address—you know, just so somebody knows where I am.”

  The fussing baby on the other end whimpered more insistently. “Rachel…” Lily sounded doubtful. And distracted.

  “Look. Got a pen and paper?”

  “Hold on…” Rachel waited. She could hear Sam whining and her friend making those cooing, soothing noises a mother will make to a crying baby. Lily came back on the line. “Okay. I’m ready.”

  “His name’s Bryce Armstrong.” She repeated the information Bryce had given her. “Got it?”

  “Just a minute…yeah.” About then, Sam let out a long, unhappy wail.

  “I’ll let you go,” said Rachel.

  “Just a sec. This guy…” Lily’s voice trailed off. Rachel could hear her talking to Sam. “Just a minut
e, honey. Give mommy just a minute…Rachel, can you hear me?”

  “I’m here.”

  “This guy. Bryce Armstrong, you said his name was?” Rachel made a noise in the affirmative. “The name’s familiar…”

  “I know. I kind of thought so, too. But it’s probably just the last name. You can’t live in Portland and not have heard the name Armstrong.”

  “No, I mean his whole name. Bryce Armstrong. I’m sure I’ve heard of…” Sam’s wail turned to something very much like an angry scream. “Rachel. Sorry. I have to go. We still on for Monday?” They were meeting for lunch.

  “Wouldn’t miss it.”

  “Great. Jenna?”

  “Oh, yeah. I’ll call her.”

  “Good.” Sam wailed all the louder. “Jake volunteered to watch Sam.”

  “The man is a saint.”

  “He does have his uses—and plus, he adores her. Rachel…”

  “I’m here.”

  “Please take care.”

  “I will. Promise.” Sam wailed again, louder than ever, and Rachel heard the click as her friend hung up. She put away her phone and started toward Bryce.

  He turned when she was almost to him and when her eyes met his, her breath got all tangled up in her chest. What a truly gorgeous guy…

  He arched a brow. “Ready?”

  Rachel nodded and held out her hand.

  * * *

  Bryce’s house—on one of the highest hills in Portland Heights—was huge, Tudor in style and surrounded by trees. A long, curving drive led up to it.

  “All I have to do is stay on the yard guys to keep the greenery trimmed,” Bryce told her as they waited for the corn to pop, “and I’ve got views all around. Mountains in the daytime. Both St. Helens and Mount Hood…”

  She stared out the kitchen’s rain-jeweled bay window. Through the gaps in the lush maples and stately oaks, she could see the wide white cap of Mount Hood. “I am impressed.”

  “…and city views at night.”

  “What more could a bachelor ask for?”

  “If I answered that honestly, you’d only say I was putting a move on you.”

  “Are you?”

  “Absolutely—but hey. No pressure.” The microwave beeped. He took out the bag of popcorn, tore it open and tumbled the fat, fragrant kernels into the bowl that waited on the black marble counter. “Soda?”

  “Do you have something without caffeine?”

  “Sure.” He went to the stainless steel refrigerator—along with the Viking stove, it made the kitchen look like something straight out of a spread in Gourmet magazine—and got two cans of soda. “Grab the bowl and follow me.”

  He led her past a living room the size of a baseball diamond and down a wide hallway to a room with eight padded lounge chairs, all facing the biggest television she’d ever seen.

  “This wouldn’t be the media room, now would it?” In her mind’s eye she could see her own cozy living room, complete with her trusty 27-inch Panasonic.

  He sent her a grin and gestured at a chair, taking the one next to it, so they could share the popcorn on the table between them.

  “The lever on the left side of the chair will put your feet up for you.”

  She pulled the lever and she was in lounge mode. “I think I’m in heaven.”

  The technical aspects of the setup amazed her. He explained, “As a normal, red-blooded American male, I have a weakness for electronic toys.” He picked up a silver remote, pushed a button and the lights went down. Then he pointed the device at the screen. “I have over five hundred movies stored in the system.” Titles began scrolling down the screen. “Here.” He handed her the remote.

  “I don’t believe this. No man lets a woman hold the remote—at least not on the first date.”

  “Enjoy the feeling. It probably won’t last—push that button to move down the list.” It took several minutes to scroll through the choices and make a decision. “Hit Enter,” he instructed approvingly when she chose the Coen brothers’ latest release. “Good. Then hit Enter again.”

  The movie began and two hours flew by.

  When Bryce brought the lights up, she started to tell him she had to be on her way.

  “Just stay a little longer….”

  She didn’t need a whole lot of convincing. She was having a great time. Somehow, the drive home alone through the rain, a long, hot bath and naughty dreams of Brad or Ben didn’t stack up to staying right there with Bryce.

  Just for a little while…

  Bryce led her back to the living room and lit the gas fire beneath the wide stone mantel. They shared the long sofa facing the cheery blaze.

  And they talked. About the movie, at first.

  He was just so easy to talk to. After just this one day with him, she felt as if she’d known him forever. And it was nothing short of a fantasy-come-true to have this incredible guy treating her like a queen, hanging on her every word.

  She found herself telling him the most private things. About how her mother’s emotional problems really got to her sometimes, though bipolar disorder was an illness. “It’s not my mom’s fault,” Rachel said. “If only she would just be consistent about her meds…”

  “You resent her.” He said it frankly, and she knew he saw nothing wrong with her feeling that way.

  She admitted that sometimes she did. “She wasn’t the most attentive mother. I guess, deep down, I still have issues about that. I know now that she was battling her illness even back then, when I was a kid and nobody knew what bipolar was. They called her ‘moody’ and ‘overly sensitive.’ Until the condition became acute, ten years ago, she never would get professional help. My father couldn’t deal with her. He left when I was five. And then, really quickly, he married again, had another family. I haven’t seen him in years. It’s as if…I don’t even have a dad.” She slanted him an ironic look. “Stop me when you’re so depressed you’ll slit your wrists if I go on.”

  He didn’t stop her. And she just kept talking. Eventually they went into the kitchen to raid the refrigerator. He had Ben & Jerry’s Rum Raisin.

  They sat at the table by the bay window and enjoyed the cold, delicious treat. The rain had intensified. It drummed against the window and cascaded down in rivulets, glittering as it went.

  By the time they settled near the fire again, she was into the stuff about Lily and Jenna and their three-way pact to try artificial insemination if they got to the age of thirty-four without husbands—or at least serious relationships. “And we did it. Lily’s had her baby. Jenna’s about four months along…”

  “And you meant what you said about your baby’s father not being an issue.”

  She nodded. “He’s twenty-eight, five feet eleven inches tall, has brown hair and blue eyes and no health problems. Oh, and he loves mountain biking and has a degree in biology. And that’s the sum total of what I know about him, which is plenty as far as I’m concerned.”

  He listened as she talked, his gaze on her face. He seemed so interested. So she went on.

  Into the whole fiasco with Michael Carson.

  “I was a fool,” she told him. “I didn’t ask the right questions. I didn’t ask any questions. I met him in a club. My mom had been driving me up the wall. I needed a break, decided to treat myself, to do something crazy and fun. To have my very own wild night on the town. There he was, sitting down the bar from me. He was incredibly charming. We had a few drinks. The truth is, I pretty much fell into bed with him, you know? A one-night stand is what it was. And then he never called and, well, what do you do?”

  “Forget him.”

  “Yeah. After I got over the whole thing not going anywhere, I told myself I’d had a good time, kind of busted out a little for once and there was nothing wrong with that. Then he turns up with Lily on his arm. And I put it together. He was her Michael, the one she’d been talking about for months. He was her Michael and he’d spent the night with me while he was supposed to be her guy…and by the time I met him with he
r, he was a lot more than her boyfriend. By then, he’d asked her to marry him. He was her fiancé, can you believe it?”

  His eyes shone with a knowing light. “So that’s why the third degree before you’d come to my house with me.”

  “That’s right. I learned my lesson. If you want to hang with me, I need to know upfront if there’s a woman out there who trusts you and is waiting for you to come home.”

  He looked at her levelly. “There’s not.”

  “I believe you.”

  “And back to your friend Lily and her slimeball fiancé. What did she say when you told her what had happened?”

  Rachel shook her head. “That’s the problem. I couldn’t figure out how, exactly, to tell her. When I saw them together, I felt like something you scrape off the bottom of your shoe. I kept my mouth shut.”

  “Bad decision.”

  She couldn’t have agreed more. “Very bad.”

  “But when you spent the night with him, you didn’t have a clue he was your friend’s guy, right?”

  “Of course I didn’t.”

  “So you really did nothing wrong.”

  “I kept trying to tell myself that. But somehow, I still felt like a creep. And then, when I didn’t tell her right away, it got worse. I felt all the time that I should tell her, but the longer I didn’t tell her, somehow, the harder it got to get the words out. And then, the day of their wedding, the lowlife dumped her. She was devastated. I did what a friend does. I comforted her. And while I was agreeing what an SOB the guy was, it just kind of…slipped out.”

  Bryce was shaking his head. “That’s what I call bad timing.”

  “Yeah. You’re right on both counts. It was a bad decision to start with, to keep my mouth shut—and then, when I did finally tell her…could I have chosen a worse time to do it? Doubtful. She was so hurt. I was so guilty. It drove a major wedge between us. And we put our other friend, Jenna, in the middle of it, until Jenna decided she couldn’t deal with either of us.

  “For a while there, I thought I’d lost the two best friends I’d ever had. And the real irony was, one of the lottery tickets we were always buying together paid off for five-hundred-thousand dollars a few days after everything went so wrong. The three of us were hardly speaking, but we split the money as we’d agreed. And we each went ahead—on our own—with our plans to have babies without the benefit of husbands.” It caused a sharp ache in the vicinity of her heart to remember it. “We’d always talked about how, if the guy thing never worked out for us, we’d at least have each other when we became single moms…”