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But she’d finally come to the reluctant conclusion that Rodrigo was right. Their baby needed two parents, his whole family. Lola’s own father had died when she was five, and she’d always felt that loss, somewhere in the back of her mind. In some ways, losing her father was the start of losing everything, because that was when her mom had had to go back to work. She’d earned only a fraction of what her father had, so they’d had to move out of their sunny three-bedroom house and into the trailer.
Now, Lola looked back at her small furnished apartment. She’d packed their meager possessions into three suitcases, leaving the dishware and odds and ends for the next tenant. She and Jett had been happy here, she thought wistfully.
Then she shook her head with a snort, remembering all the nights she’d cried herself to sleep over the last year. It was why she hadn’t invited Hallie to stay here, when her friend had briefly needed a place to stay last summer. Lola couldn’t bear to let anyone see her cry. Well, except Jett, but only because he’d cried even more.
Lola was supposed to be the strong one, the one her friends came to for advice and support, not the one who needed help. She’d pushed Hallie and Tess to get the financial support their babies deserved. She’d pushed them to get their lives together. And look at those two now—happy, in love, joyful. She’d helped them get there. Speaking the brutal truth with love, Lola called it, though her friends sometimes grumbled that her words could be more brutal than loving.
But they didn’t know how scared Lola felt on the inside. She’d worked through her pregnancy because she was afraid to spend the money Rodrigo had thrown at her. Afraid that bad things could happen. And even after a year, she hadn’t been brave enough to contact her baby sisters. Guilt still hung heavily over her at how she’d failed them at eighteen.
A child needs as much protection, as much security and love, as he can get. My parents died, Lola. One, then the other. What happened to yours?
She looked at Jett, now stretched out happily on a soft blanket over the rug. Rodrigo was right. As much as she hated to admit it. Jett deserved as much security and love as she could possibly give.
Because parents could die. They could get sick or go to jail. And even if Lola was ever brave enough to contact her sisters, they were still so young, Kelsey fifteen, Johanna only twelve. Whether they now hated her, or they’d forgotten her completely, the truth was, her sisters had a new family now. They’d been lost to her long ago.
Jett was all that mattered. She wanted him to be safe and loved. And from the moment Rodrigo had seen their baby, he’d seemed to feel the same.
Already our baby is more vulnerable, with no extended family. Don’t you want him to have a father? Think of what I can give him... My name. My time. My protection. My love.
She’d barely slept that night, tossing and turning. Sometime around 3:00 a.m., she’d come to a decision.
She didn’t love Rodrigo, and he didn’t love her. But she would marry him. Their baby deserved that sacrifice.
Yet it wasn’t easy. With a sinking heart, Lola looked back out the window and saw another car had arrived. She recognized, even at this distance, the gorgeous, arrogant man getting out of it. She swallowed hard. Then her jaw set.
Fine, they would marry. But it would be on her terms.
She heard the intercom buzz, and his husky voice demanding entrance. She pressed the button to let him in downstairs. Putting on her coat, Lola picked up her baby. Tucking his blanket into her diaper bag, she waited with a sense of dread.
A few minutes later, she heard heavy steps in the hallway. A hard knock sounded at her door. With a deep breath, she opened it.
Rodrigo’s dark eyes burned through her. “You are ready?”
So much was encompassed in that simple question.
“Yes,” she said.
“Good.” Relaxing slightly, he strode into the apartment, looking so handsome she almost couldn’t bear it. He wore a long, open black cashmere coat that revealed the shape of his broad shoulders and biceps, with a well-cut black shirt and trousers beneath. He was followed inside by his driver and bodyguard, both of whom she knew slightly from the old days.
“Have a long night, did you, boys?” she said to them dryly. As they gathered the suitcases, they glanced at each other. Rodrigo’s smile widened.
“You knew they were watching?”
“Of course I knew,” she snapped at him. “You’re not very trusting.”
“I’m glad you didn’t try to run.”
She pressed her lips together. “There was no point. You convinced me that you’re right.”
“I’m always right.” But even as he spoke the arrogant words, his dark eyes looked her over appreciatively. As befitted the cold November weather, she wore a form-fitting black puffy coat, with a faux-fur-edged hood, and a hem that stretched down over her hips. Her legs were covered with black leggings and her black boots matched her hood, edged with faux fur.
Against her will, she blushed beneath his glance. It enraged her. Why did he still have that effect on her? It didn’t seem fair!
“Is this all, Miss Price?” asked the bodyguard.
“And the stroller by the door.”
As his two henchmen left the apartment with the suitcases and stroller, Rodrigo held out his arm. “Come.”
