Expecting the CEO's Baby. Karen Rose Smith

the door, they stood there in silence. He didn’t really want to go, but he knew he didn’t have a good reason to stay. “I’ll call you.” Taking a business card from the pocket of his slacks, he handed it to her. “Or you can call me. The cell phone number will get you through immediately. I never turn it off.”

      She gave him a weak little smile. “Or let it go uncharged.”

      He grinned. “Once in a while I forget.”

      “I think you’re just trying to make me feel better. You’re the kind of man who never forgets anything,” she murmured.

      “One afternoon and you think you have a handle on my character?” He was partly joking, partly serious.

      “I don’t know about a handle on your character, but I think I’ve gotten to know a few things about you just as you’ve gotten to know a few things about me—a lot more about me. Rafe’s not going to be happy about that.”

      “We have to find a way clear for us that’s going to be good for this baby, no matter what Pierson or my lawyer think.”

      “I know that,” she said. “You should have my cell phone number, too.”

      “Tell me. I’ll remember it.”

      Jenna’s forehead was damp from the heat, her cheeks still rosy as she rattled it off, and he committed it to memory. His physical response to her wasn’t anything he understood. Maybe away from her he could figure it out.

      Opening the door, he asked, “When are you going to tell your father about this?”

      “When the time is right.”

      Gazing into her velvety brown eyes, he wondered how she was going to know. He wanted to take the kiss he hadn’t taken on the boat. He wanted to hold her and let her rest her head against his shoulder. He wanted his child…and that might or might not have anything to do with Jenna.

      “Take care of yourself,” he said, his voice husky.

      Then he left, before needing and wanting and longing took him back more years than he wanted to count.

      When Jenna let herself in the back door of the parsonage the following morning, it was a little after eight and Shirley was already busy in the kitchen. Her father’s secretary and housekeeper was in her late fifties. Her black hair was streaked with gray now and cut in a short hairdo that looked easy to maintain. She wore navy slacks and a paisley blouse this morning with an apron tied around her waist.

      “It smells good in here,” Jenna said. The back screen door closed behind her.

      “I’m so glad you’re joining your dad for breakfast. He’s on the phone in his office. I’m not sure Gary’s up yet.”

      Jenna suspected Shirley had had feelings for her father for many years. But she never let them show, and Jenna didn’t even know for sure if her dad had noticed his secretary was interested in him. “As soon as Gary smells food, he’ll be here.”

      Shirley laughed. “You’re right about that. How are you feeling?”

      “I’m still having trouble with the nausea now and then, but other than that, I’m feeling great.”

      Gary came into the kitchen then, dressed in jeans and a red T-shirt, his dark brown hair tousled as if he hadn’t combed it. “Hey, sis. I didn’t know you were coming to breakfast. What’s the special occasion?”

      “No special occasion. I just thought I’d take advantage of Shirley’s cooking before she leaves for a few days.”

      “I forgot about that. Dad and I are going to be eating a lot of fast food.”

      “I’ve put enough casseroles in the freezer to last until Tuesday. You won’t starve. In fact, I doubt if your father will even miss me.”

      Jenna wondered if Gary heard the wistfulness in Shirley’s voice, too.

      Her brother was already pouring himself a glass of juice. “Are you still going to help me with that video project tonight?” he asked Jenna.

      Picking that moment to walk into the kitchen, their father asked, “What video project?”

      Gary’s goal in life was to become a movie director. Their dad disapproved of the idea and did everything he could to squelch it. But Gary had boundless enthusiasm when it came to using a secondhand camcorder he’d saved for and bought when he was ten.

      “It’s for that extra class I’m taking this summer,” he said patiently.

      “I thought you were taking a history course.”

      “It is. I can do a paper or something more innovative on the history of Fawn Grove. I’m going to do a video. But I want to brainstorm with Jenna for the best ideas for scenes. It sure beats doing a research paper.”

      Her father sat down at the head of the table.

      “I can use this video when I apply to film school,” Gary added, as if testing the water again on the subject.

      “You’re not applying to film school. We’ve discussed this.”

      “No, we haven’t discussed it. You told me what you thought. You didn’t listen to what I thought.”

      Though Jenna gave Gary a warning glance, he didn’t heed it. “So what time tonight, sis?”

      “You have to trim the hedge,” her father reminded his son.

      “What time do you get off work today?” Jenna asked gently. Her brother was working at the local grocery store for the summer.

      “I’ll be off at five-thirty, but till I do the trimming, take a shower, get something to eat…”

      “Why don’t you come over to the apartment around seven-thirty? If the air-conditioning still isn’t fixed, we’ll go for ice cream and talk there.”

      “Sounds good to me.”

      While Jenna and Gary had been working out their plans, Shirley had delivered plates of pancakes, bacon and scrambled eggs to the table. Untying her apron, she said to Jenna, “Just come into the office when you’re through and we’ll get started.”

      “I’d like to have a word with my daughter first,” Charles said, eyeing Jenna.

      She should have known she wouldn’t be able to escape without the third degree Blake had warned her about. She glanced at Shirley. “I’m sure it won’t take long.”

      She wouldn’t let it take long. She wasn’t ready to tell her father that this baby belonged to Blake Winston. Although she’d seen the censure in her dad’s eyes last night at the idea she’d spent time with a man like Blake, she wasn’t going to give him any further information or food for more thought. This was her life and she’d make decisions on her own. In the meantime—

      “Shirley, why don’t you sit down and join us for breakfast?” Jenna prompted.

      The woman looked shocked. “Oh, I couldn’t do that.”

      “Why not? Did you already eat breakfast?”

      “Well, no. I just grabbed a banana before I came over here this morning, like I usually do.”

      “You made this wonderful food and we’re certainly not going to eat it all. Come on, join us. Don’t you think she should, Dad?”

      Gary gave her a what-are-you-up-to-now look.

      Charles glanced at Shirley, then Jenna. “If you didn’t have breakfast, Shirley, you should eat something. As Jenna said, there’s plenty here.”

      It wasn’t an enthusiastic invitation, but it wasn’t a dismissal of the idea, either. Shirley must have realized that, too, because she gave Charles her broadest smile. “Thank you for asking. I’d like to join all of you.”

      After she pulled an extra