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Jordan wasn’t a man who felt inept around women.He knew he was reasonably good-looking and that women generally considered him attractive.
It wasn’t anything he wanted to brag to Molly about, but he could have found plenty of solace after she’d moved out on him, if he’d wanted.
He hadn’t.
That was the crux of the problem. He’d never wanted another woman from the day he’d met Molly Houghton, fresh out of college. He knew the moment they were introduced that this woman with eyes the color of a summer sky would change his life.
For a while he’d convinced himself that he cared for Lesley, and he did, as a friend. But they’d never been lovers, never shared the deep love and intimacy that had been so much a part of his relationship with Molly. He’d attempted to fool himself into thinking he could put his marriage behind him and make a new life. Lesley had fallen in with his scheme, eager to get married. She’d admitted it herself.
Jordan sipped his beer, wrinkled his nose and set the bottle aside. He didn’t like beer, had never liked beer. The only reason he kept it on hand was for his project superintendent, Paul Phelps, who sometimes dropped by the house.
Come to think of it, the last time Jordan had indulged in a beer had been when he and Molly had last lived together and had disagreed about something. He emptied the bottle into the sink.
Maybe Molly was right.
She seemed to think that all they needed was for him to feel the pain of losing Jeffrey. Which left him to wonder what he’d been doing for the past four years.
No, Molly was wrong. Hehadn’tdenied Jeffrey’s existence. He couldn’t. True, he’d disposed of Jeffrey’s personal things, but he’d done so in an agony of grief, believing it would be easier for them to deal with their son’s death if they weren’t constantly reminded of what they’d lost. In retrospect he could understand why it had been a mistake. They’d both made blunders in the frantic days after their son’s funeral.
For all the unknowns Jordan faced, there were an equal number of facts he did recognize. Molly’s pregnancy leaped to mind, bright as the noonday sun, blinding him with the glare of truth.
He’d longed to push all thoughts of this baby from his mind, and to some extent he’d succeeded. But he was well aware that his marriage was doomed if his attitude didn’t change, and change fast.
Until tonight, he hadn’t seen Molly in a week, and even in that short time he noticed the subtle changes in her body. It was easy to deny the baby when the evidence was quietly hidden from view. But the baby was making itself more and more evident as time progressed. Soon Molly would be wearing maternity clothes, and every time he looked at her he’d be reminded of the child.
He rubbed a hand down his face. Despite what Molly felt, what she wanted, he couldn’t force himself to believe this pregnancy was anything but a mistake.
The thought of Molly pregnant depressed him. Needing to escape, Jordan reached for his jacket and left the house. He was in his truck, driving with no destination in mind, before he pulled onto the side of the road andparked. There was no place he could run. No place he could hide.
Gripping the steering wheel, he closed his eyes and desperately sought a solution. He waited several minutes for his breathing to relax and his racing heart to return to its normal pace.
The temptation to turn his back on the whole situation was strong. He could move his company to another city. The Pacific Northwest appealed to him. In a few years he could establish himself in Seattle, or maybe Portland. Molly could continue to live here in Chicago and come visit him on weekends. He’d find someone she trusted to leave the baby with. Molly might object, but—
The sheer idiocy of the idea struck him and he expelled a sigh and restarted the truck. His thoughts as troubled as when he’d left, Jordan returned to the house.
He sat down in front of the television, and it was a long time before he moved. When he did, it was to turn off the set and go to bed, knowing he’d solved nothing.
* * *
“Dad,” Molly said as he led her by the hand into her childhood room. “What did you do, buy out the store?” Her bed was heaped with every piece of clothing the baby could possibly need, in addition to a car seat, stroller and high chair.
“You said you didn’t have anything other than the crib.”
“I certainly didn’t expect you to go out and buy it.”
“Why not? I’m a wealthy old man, and if I can’t indulge my grandchild, what’s the use of having all this money?”
“Oh, Daddy,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck. He, at least, shared her excitement about the baby. It was all becoming so much more real now that she could feel the baby’s movements. “Thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
Molly and her father spent the next hour examining each and every item he’d purchased. She held up a newborn-size T-shirt and nearly laughed out loud. “Can you imagine anybody this tiny?”
“That’s what I said to the salesclerk.”
There were several blankets, all in pastel colors.
“Have you had an ultrasound yet?” her father asked, sounding eager.
