Their Baby Girl...?. Marie Ferrarella

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Название Their Baby Girl...?
Автор произведения Marie Ferrarella
Жанр Короткие любовные романы
Серия Mills & Boon Spotlight
Издательство Короткие любовные романы
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781408906026



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her pillow to her mother, C.J. looked at the perky, rather pregnant blond instructor. The session had run a little long tonight. All C.J. wanted to do was drop her mother off at her house and go home herself.

      She’d been preoccupied throughout the entire session, her mind constantly reverting to some stray piece of information about one or another of the Sleeping Beauty Killer’s victims. Twice her mother’d had to tap her on her shoulder to get her to pay attention to what was going on in class.

      This was a far cry from the way the classes normally used to go, Lori thought. It wasn’t all that long ago that she, Lori, Sherry Campbell and Joanna Prescott would go out together after class to a local, old-fashioned ice cream parlor where they would indulge their insatiable craving for sweets. But Sherry and Joanna were no longer part of the class, or the inner clique Lori had pulled together and whimsically dubbed the Mom Squad. Sherry and Joanna had each given birth and with new men in their lives as well, were on their way to no longer being single mothers.

      C.J. shook her head. “I don’t think—”

      On a mission of mercy, Lori was not about to take no for an answer. “You’ve been looking a little down these last two sessions, so I called up Sherry and Joanna and invited them out for the evening. They’re waiting for us at the ice cream parlor.”

      She really didn’t need the extra calories. Even so, C.J. could feel her taste buds getting into gear. Still, she felt she needed to review the personal notes she’d kept at home dealing with the serial killer’s various victims. There just had to be something she was missing.

      C.J. grasped at a plausible excuse. “But I’ve got to drop off my mother—”

      The excuse died quickly. “Not another word about it,” Diane protested. She was already digging her cell phone out of her purse. “I’ll just call your father and he can come to pick me up.” Her blue eyes sparkled lustily as she grinned at her only daughter. “Did I ever tell you about the first time he picked me up?” She sighed dramatically. “Your father was the handsomest thing on two legs, and I would have followed him to the ends of the earth.” She winked at Lori. “Luckily, I didn’t have to. His apartment was right around the corner.”

      C.J. had grown up hearing the story in its various forms, originally amended because of her age, then updated on every occasion. In its time, it had made a wonderful bedtime story, but not tonight. She cut her mother off before she could get rolling. “You don’t mind calling him?”

      Diane pressed a single number on the cell’s keypad. “Not in the slightest.” Her eyes took on a glow as a male voice echoed in her ear. “James? Chris can’t drop me off, would you mind coming to get me?” Catching her daughter’s eye, she shook her head tolerantly. “No, she’s not going out in the field.” Diane covered the cell phone with a well-manicured hand. “He worries about his little girl,” she confided to Lori.

      C.J. rolled her eyes. “I’m probably the only FBI agent who has to look over her shoulder to make sure her father isn’t trailing after her.” Her father would have been a great deal happier with her if she’d put her law degree to use and followed him into the firm, as her three older brothers had. Even Jamie, the youngest, was studying law. She was the only maverick in the family—and she liked it that way.

      Lori laughed, slipping an arm around C.J.’s shoulders. “Hey, it’s nice having a family care about you. I’d give anything to have my dad trailing after me.” Both of her parents were gone now. The only family Lori had left was her late husband’s older brother.

      Diane flipped her phone shut. “There, all settled.” She tucked the cell phone into her purse. “Your father’ll be here in fifteen minutes.” She shooed the women off. “Go, have an ice cream for me.” She looked down at a figure that was still trim by anyone’s standards except her own and sighed. “Anything I eat goes right to my hips. No passing go, no collecting two hundred dollars, just directly to my hips.”

      Lori gave C.J. a quizzical look. C.J. was quick to provide an explanation. “Mom’s a Monopoly enthusiast.”

      Diane leaned in and confided to Lori. “She’d say ‘freak’ if I wasn’t here.” The look she gave her daughter spoke volumes. “We all have our little obsessions.”

      Her mind on other things, C.J. couldn’t help thinking about the Sleeping Beauty Killer and the women he had singled out to eliminate. “Yes,” she agreed quietly, “we do.”

      The ice cream parlor, with its quaint booths and small tables, looked as if it belonged to another era, nestled in another century. C.J. felt completely at ease here. There was something soothing about the decor. It spoke of innocence and simplicity, something she found herself longing for.

      By the time she and Lori arrived, Sherry and Joanna, both now enviably slim, were already seated at a booth. Sherry waved to them the moment they walked in.

      There was no need to place an order. The instant the waitress saw the four of them, she began making notations on her pad. The women’s choice almost never varied.

      “I’m really glad you called,” Sherry told Lori as she settled back with her hot-fudge sundae. “I’ve been meaning to get in touch.” Her eyes swept over the faces of the other two women. “With all of you.” Leaving her spoon buried deep within the mountain of French vanilla ice cream, she dug into her purse and pulled out three official-looking ivory envelopes. She handed one to each of them. “I’m not economizing on stamps,” she explained. “I just thought the personal touch was nicer.”

      Taking a generous spoonful of ice cream, Sherry savored the taste as she watched her three friends open up the lacy envelopes.

      The tearing of paper was followed by squeals of enthusiasm and mutual joy.

      C.J. was the first to collect herself and say something closer to a level pitch. “You’re getting married.”

      Sherry grinned. If anyone had told her three months ago that she would be marrying one of the richest men in the country, not to mention one of the best looking, she would have told them they were crazy. But here she was, wildly in love and engaged. Life had a funny way of working things out with excellent results. “Yeah, I know.”

      Joanna tucked the invitation away into her purse and began sipping her strawberry ice cream soda in earnest. “Talk about the lengths that a journalist is willing to go to in order to get an exclusive interview…”

      A reporter for the Bedford World News, Sherry’s assignment had begun as a challenge. To get a background story on an elusive, successful corporate raider dubbed Darth Vader. Things had gotten tangled up when she’d suddenly gone into labor at his mountain hideaway. St. John Adair had wound up delivering her baby. From there, everything had just escalated.

      Sherry looked at her friends. They all knew her story. She’d become as close to them as she was to her own family.

      “Exclusive is definitely the key word here.”Sherry sighed, temporarily forgetting about the sinful dessert. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.” Her grin widened. “Part of me feels that it’s got to be illegal to feel this happy.”

      Reaching over the table, C.J. squeezed her hand. “Enjoy it while you can. As far as I know, they haven’t passed a law against that yet.”

      Since her sundae was beginning to drip a little around the edges, Sherry’s attention reverted back to her dessert. “I tried to time the ceremony so that it didn’t interfere with either of your due dates.”She looked at the two pregnant women. “You will come, won’t you?”

      She could use a little happy diversion in her life, C.J. thought. “Try and stop me.”

      Lori patted her stomach affectionately. “Count me in. This little darling’ll be out and smiling in time for you to exchange your vows.”

      “Babies don’t smile until they’re at least six months old,” C.J. contradicted. She saw Lori begin to protest. “Those funny little expressions