Debbie Macomber's Cedar Cove Series, Volume 3 (102 page)

“Don't worry about it. I'll reschedule with Olivia and the dentist.”

“I said I'd stay.”

He kept his hand on the phone. “Like I said, you could've told me no.”

“I could have,” she agreed.

“Then why didn't you?”

“And why do
you
leave everything to the last possible minute, as if I don't have any plans or responsibilities?”

“Guilty as charged. You're right. I should've asked you sooner. But the appointment at Stanford Suites was on fairly short notice. And the dentist had a cancellation.
Still, I apologize.” He seemed to think he could charm his way back into her good graces.

Miranda reviewed their short conversation earlier that afternoon. Will had called her at home around noon and, despite everything, she'd been excited to hear from him. He'd asked if it was possible to work on her day off for a few hours. She'd said yes and even been eager to do so. She'd overreacted just now because…because she needed to keep her distance, emotionally and otherwise.

“You aren't going to tell me off?” he asked, sounding half amused and half surprised.

“No, I guess not.”

“You're not coming down with a fever, are you?”

“No,” she replied tersely. “Like you'd care.”

He immediately sighed. “Oh, good. You're back to normal.”

He was right; snapping at him was her normal reaction—especially since their kiss…or rather, kisses. Until that very moment, she hadn't really understood what she was doing or why. She wondered if Will had reached the same conclusion. Probably not. After the incident on Halloween she'd redoubled her efforts to hide her attraction, from him if not herself.

“Keep your appointments,” she insisted. “I've already rearranged my schedule to accommodate yours, so there's no need to cancel now.” She hurried out of his office and avoided him until he left. They exchanged a curt goodbye and that was it.

Will was away from the gallery for two and a half hours, arriving back at quarter to four, but he might as well have been invisible. He went directly into his office and shut himself in. After closing the gallery a few minutes early, she knocked at his door, hoping to at least clear the air before their next encounter.

“Come in,” Will called.

“I'm getting ready to go.” She wanted to escape as soon as Shirley arrived, sparing them both an awkward moment. Maybe they should just have met at the restaurant….

He glanced at his watch, apparently surprised at the time, then nodded. “Thank you for coming in this afternoon,” he said formally.

She hesitated. “I, uh, wanted to be sure everything is okay between us.”

“Why shouldn't it be?” Will asked in congenial tones.

“No reason, I guess.”

He stood, leveled another of those killer smiles directly at her and held out his hand.

“What's that for?” she asked, leaning forward to extend her own.

Will's handshake was firm and solid. His smile didn't waver as his eyes connected with hers. “Friends?”

“Friends,” she echoed, but her voice sounded odd.

“I promise not to call you into work on your days off. I apologize again. I should've talked to you much earlier. I don't know what I was thinking.”

Miranda knew very well what he was thinking. Will was thinking of himself, the same way he had most of his adult life. No, she admitted to herself, that wasn't entirely true. He was capable of very generous behavior. Only it was dangerous—to her sanity and well-being—to view Will as anything but self-centered and self-absorbed. Somehow she managed to nod and smile.

Before she could leave his office and shut the door, Shirley arrived at the gallery. Will brightened the instant he saw her, becoming animated and happy. “Shirley, it's good to see you.” He clasped her hand in both of his and couldn't seem to take his eyes off her.

Miranda had to look away for fear he'd notice her reaction.

“I'm here for Miranda,” Shirley said as she withdrew her hand.

“Where's Larry?” Will asked, ignoring the comment.

“London.”

“Without you?” The sympathy in his voice made Miranda grit her teeth.

“Tanni's still in high school,” Shirley reminded him. “And I have work to complete here.”

Will nodded with that same unctuous sympathy.

“Larry often travels to England. Hopefully I'll be able to join him next time,” Shirley went on to say.

“I thought we could walk down to D.D.'s on the Cove for dinner,” Miranda suggested, purposely turning the subject away from Larry's absence. “It's close, and that way we won't need to worry about finding a parking spot.”

“Sounds good.”

“You're going for dinner?” Will asked, arching his eyebrows slightly. He seemed to be expecting an invitation. He moved away from Shirley to stand beside Miranda.

“We are,” she said. “Just the
two
of us.”

“Girls' night out?”

Shirley nodded.

Changing tactics, Will rested one hand on Miranda's shoulder. “Well, then, have fun, you two.”

Miranda shrugged off his hand and glared at Will. Whatever he thought he was doing, she refused to be part of it.

Shirley started out the door.

“I'll be there in a minute,” Miranda told her. She
waited until the gallery door was completely closed before she whirled around.

“What?” Will asked with a look of innocence.

“Why did you put your hand on my shoulder?” she demanded.

“I don't know what you're so upset about. It didn't mean anything.”

“You were trying to make Shirley jealous, which is
ridiculous
. In case you've forgotten, she's married to Larry Knight and has no feelings for you whatsoever. I realize it's difficult for your fragile ego to accept that any woman would choose a man other than you, but—”

“
You'd
choose me,” Will said, cutting her off.

“That's…not true.” She could feel a hot blush crawling up her face.

“Is it so strange that you're attracted to me?” he asked.

“I will not acknowledge anything so asinine,” she said, turning away from him. This was one of the few times in her life when she couldn't be truthful, didn't even want to be. The sooner she made her escape, the better. She hoped the November air would cool the embarrassed color heating her face.

“Miranda.” He whispered her name.

“What?” she barked, refusing to turn around.

“We need to talk about the day you kissed me.”

“No, we don't,” she said, not adding that he'd kissed her, too. She kept her back to him, her hand on the doorknob, eager to get outside where Shirley was waiting.

“I've done a lot of thinking about it.”

“Sure you have,” she muttered sarcastically. And, no doubt, laughing his head off, too.

“I have,” he said, his voice low and seductive. He placed his hand on her shoulder again, stroking it gently. “We do need to talk about this.”

“Everything's already been said. It's a dead subject.”

“For you, maybe, but not me.”

That did it. She whirled back toward him. “Don't play with me, Will. You need me because your ego's taken a hit. What better way to prove to Shirley that you're over her. An affair with her best friend would tell her that, wouldn't it?”

He frowned but didn't contradict her.

“You obviously assume I'm an easy target…that I'm so starved for affection I'd willingly fall into bed with you, even though you'd break my heart without a second thought. But you're wrong, Will. I'm not interested.”

“Your kiss said otherwise.”

“Sorry, but you've misread the situation. I don't know why I kissed you.” A blatant lie. “But trust me, it was one of the biggest mistakes I've ever made.”

“I don't think of it that way.”

“Stop!” she shouted, clenching her fists. Much more of this and she'd end up taking a swing at him. “Do you honestly believe you're going to persuade me with…with lies? If you say anything else, I swear I will walk out this door and never return. That isn't an empty threat, Will. I mean it.”

A pained look came over him and he nodded. Then, to Miranda's astonishment, he stepped closer, held her face between his hands and kissed her.

When he broke it off, she nearly stumbled backward in both shock and wonder.

“I—I quit,” she stammered.

“No, you don't. I expect you here by ten tomorrow morning.”

Twenty-Four

T
he Pot Belly Deli was decorated for Thanksgiving. Gloria glanced around at the dried cornstalk and gourd arrangements, nervously sipping her juice as she waited for Chad. He'd asked for this meeting, and she'd agreed, but she still wasn't sure it was a good idea.

Since the ultrasound, there'd been no direct contact between them, although they'd exchanged a number of emails over the past few weeks. These were generally short messages in which she answered his questions about the pregnancy and her health.

Gloria resisted the urge to ask him about Joni. Every time she thought about the two of them together, her stomach twisted. But
she
was the one who'd rejected
him,
so she couldn't blame him for dating someone else. Sometimes she didn't understand her own actions and could only regret what she'd done. It was because of her shame and uncertainty that she'd run out of his bedroom last summer, after spending the night with him. Then, when she'd gone to tell him about the baby—and perhaps even try to reconcile—it was too late.

The door opened and Chad came inside. He looked
around until he saw Gloria, smiling tentatively when he did.

“Hi,” he said as he approached her.

“Hi.” She didn't meet his eyes but gestured for him to take a seat.

The waitress stepped up to the table with a coffeepot and he righted his mug. “Would you like a menu?” she asked.

“No, thanks, just coffee.”

She nodded and left them alone.

Now that they were together, Gloria's nervousness grew more intense. Nausea attacked her stomach, and her hands shook.

“You look great,” Chad said.

He wasn't the only one to say so. Roy had said that pregnant women really did have a glow about them, adding that she was more beautiful every time he saw her. Her biological father didn't hand out compliments casually and his comment had taken her aback. She hardly knew how to respond to Chad's words any more than she had Roy's.

Finally she managed to say, “Thanks.” And left it at that.

“Would you mind standing?” he asked.

“Ah, sure.” She pushed back her chair and stood.

His eyes rested on her stomach, and a slow smile spread across his face. A warm, wholehearted smile that said Chad was going to love this baby. Seeing his reaction nearly brought her to tears.

“May I?” he asked, extending his hand toward her.

Gloria came closer and he pressed his palm against the small bump.

“Do you feel him moving yet?”

She smiled. “All the time.”

“Good.”

She sat back down and reached for her drink to hide how moved she was by what he'd done. She noticed that his hand shook as he picked up his coffee.

“So,” he said after a moment. “Have you given any more thought to the name?”

“A little. Have you?”

“Actually, I've been thinking about it a lot.”

When he didn't immediately make any suggestions or comment on other names he liked, she asked, “Do you want to share your thoughts?”

“No…I feel it would be best to wait until you make up your mind.”

“About?”

“About giving the baby up for adoption. Have you decided?”

Gloria held her arms protectively around her stomach. “I think adoption is a viable choice. I was adopted into a loving home with parents who badly wanted a child.”

Chad lowered his eyes, as if he couldn't tolerate the idea, but didn't want to argue with her.

“My mother gave me up because she was still a teenager with several years of school ahead of her. Roy didn't even know she was pregnant.”

“I'm aware of that. But thanks to your father, I know about this baby.” Chad stiffened, apparently unable to keep quiet any longer. “And I'm entitled to a say in what happens to
my child.
” He emphasized the last two words. “If you decide you don't want him—”

“Do you think that's what adoption is?” Gloria asked. “Do you really believe a mother who gives her child to another family acts out of selfishness? Do you think that's what Corrie did with me?”

“I…no.”

“She loved me enough to offer me a better life with two parents who yearned for a child of their own.”

“Our baby has two parents.”

“Every baby has two parents, Chad,” she said, hoping he'd see the humor in his statement.

“True. Every child has two parents, biologically speaking. What I meant is that times are different from when you were born. A father has legal rights and I intend to pursue mine. If you prefer to give the baby up for adoption, then I think it's only fair to tell you that I'd take him myself.”

“As a single father?”

“Yes.”

“What about your hours at the hospital? Who'd look after him while you're working? You make it sound easy. It isn't.”

“And you know this how?”

“Because I'm a woman.”

“And I'm a doctor. I can pretty well guarantee I've handled more babies than you have.”

“You do have an advantage over most men,” she had to agree. “But you don't know what it'll be like to spend sleepless nights if the baby's colicky—”

“Hey, I was an intern and a medical resident. I know about sleepless nights.”