Lovers and Liars (66 page)
He wasn’t amused. “We’ll stop for a cup of coffee as soon as this is over. Decaf for you though.”
He was so serious. Belinda had to smile. The man was going to spend the rest of her pregnancy doting on her—that was very, very clear, because he hadn’t stopped since they’d been reconciled. Oh, well. She guessed she could take it.
They watched the casket being lowered into the ground.
Afterward when the funeral was over, Belinda’s gaze met her father’s from across the grave. He stared; she stared back. Jack was about to propel her with him back to the cab, but Belinda gripped his hand. “Let’s go say hello,” she said.
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
It had been a month since their disastrous encounter at the hospital, and although Belinda was in frequent contact with her mother, she hadn’t spoken to Abe once. Holding Jack’s arm, she gingerly made her way over the frozen ground toward her parents. It had started to snow.
“Hello, Mom. Hello, Abe.”
Abe shot Jack a disdainful glance; then he looked at Belinda. “Hello, Belinda.”
“I’m sorry,” Belinda said. “I can’t believe Will is dead. What a freak accident.”
Abe shrugged. “Yeah, a real freak accident.”
“You sound like you don’t care. He was your oldest friend. He introduced you to Nancy.”
“Oh, I care,” Abe said with a slight grin. “But even
I
don’t have the power to bring him back from the dead.”
“Well,” Belinda said into the awkward silence, wishing hopelessly, she knew, that Abe would at least acknowledge Jack. “We just wanted to say hello.”
“How are you feeling?”
“What?”
“How are you feeling?” Abe repeated.
“Just fine. Ecstatic, in fact. Things couldn’t be better.”
Abe frowned. Then, gruffly, “So the baby’s okay?”
Time stilled. The silence of the winter day became unnatural. Jack said, “The baby is just fine.”
Abe looked at Jack. “You really got balls, to think you can break your contract.”
“I broke it,” Jack said.
“Don’t start,” Belinda said. “Please.”
“Sorry,” Jack told her, squeezing her hand.
Abe’s eyes had been gleaming during their brief exchange. Now they turned somber. “So.” He coughed. “Uh, when is the baby due?”
“Why?”
He shifted uneasily. “I got a right to know.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah, I do. After all, he’s your son—that makes him my grandson.”
Belinda smiled. “Mid-September,” she said. “A perfect month to have a baby, don’t you agree?”
“I decided,” Abe said, “that even if you’re out of your mind”—and he glared at Jack—“this is probably my only shot at an heir, so what the hell.” He pinned Jack again. “I figure,” he said to Belinda, “you’ll wise up eventually. You”—to Jack—“I’ll see in court.”
“Can you believe him?” Belinda asked a few moments later when they were snug in the warm taxi on their way back to Manhattan.
“It’s a game,” Jack said, shrugging. “He wants to fight me. He wants to keep me an enemy. He enjoys this.”
“He does—he really does.” She smiled. “Jack, he’s accepting the baby.”
“Yeah, well, he’d be a real jerk not to. One thing Abe isn’t is stupid.”
“I didn’t think he’d ever come around,” Belinda said. “Don’t you see though? This isn’t the ending, it’s the beginning. He’s accepted your child—maybe eventually he’ll accept you.”
Jack put his arm around her. “I’m not holding my breath. And it’s not important, Belinda. You know what’s important?”
“Of course.”
“You and me and our child.”
“I already knew that.”
“It’s funny,” Jack said, “but I’ve been thinking about it. We’re closing the circle. It’s like a resolution.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s wanted an heir for seventeen years. Nancy miscarried his son when I was involved with her. Now you’re giving him a grandson—my son.” He smiled. “Sort of like fate, don’t you think?”
“Fate? Jack! I’m wearing off on you—you’re becoming metaphysical.”
“I don’t know about metaphysical”—he grinned and nipped her jaw—“but I’m definitely into the physical.”
Belinda snuggled closer. “And me looking like a pregnant sow.”
Jack chuckled, his hand cupping her hip, his mouth warm on her neck. “A pregnant sow? What does that make me?”
She turned to meet his lips. “A rutting boar.”
“Boar? Not bull?”
“What’s wrong?” she whispered as he nuzzled her jaw. “Can’t your ego handle the epithet?”
Jack groaned. “I think I need my dictionary—why did I marry a writer?”
“Because you love me?”
He laughed as his mouth closed over her ear. She gasped. “Completely. Belinda, there’s only one thing that needs handling—and it’s not my ego.”
Belinda turned so she could put her arms around him. “Why did I marry a superstud?” She gently probed the shell of his ear with her tongue.
“Because you love me?”
“Completely.” She ended the word with a long, open-mouthed kiss, her hand stroking the flat planes of his abdomen beneath his shirt.
He growled. “Are you trying to handle my ego?”
Silence.
Jack groaned.
Belinda whispered, “Of course. Do you think anyone else could?”
“Absolutely not.”
“You said the right words, Jack.”
“Do I get a prize?”
“Absolutely.”
“Do I get to pick my prize?”
“Maybe.”
“Belinda …”
“Say the magic words.”
“I love you—witch.”
“I guess that will have to do—stud.”
“Belinda, I don’t think my ego can take much more of this.”
“No?”
“I think it’s time for me to start fulfilling your epithets.”
“Which ones?”
He managed to laugh—just before they disappeared into the Midtown Tunnel.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
