Eighteen
Pen smoothed cocoa butter over her stomach, determined to avoid stretch marks at any cost. She’d read that moisturizing helped, and she’d started her nightly routine almost right after she found out she was pregnant.
As she ran her hand over her rounding belly, she considered the warring feelings inside her.
Frustration with Zach. Frustration with herself. Amusement for how he’d decorated the room for a son. Admiration at the way he was determined to be a good father. And the biggest: so much love for her unborn baby, she was ready to burst with it.
If she was being honest with herself, that love was inching closer and closer to Zach himself. Encircling him and swallowing him up in it. But she couldn’t confuse her love for their daughter for romantic love with him. They weren’t the same.
When she’d asked him about Lonna, he’d confirmed one of Pen’s biggest fears. Falling in love meant you could lose it all. And for all of Zachary Ferguson’s bliss-chasing, he’d drawn a very distinct boundary around true love.
Romantic love had no place in his plans. Not any longer. Not since Lonna.
It was unfair.
Unfair because for the first time in her life, Pen feared she was starting to fall in love...with a man incapable of loving her back.
“Hey,” came a soft rumble from the doorway.
Pen spun the lid on the lotion and set it on her nightstand. “Hey.”
Zach’s hooded eyes and sideways smile had replaced his flattened mouth and ruddy complexion. After their conversation in the baby’s room, he’d mumbled something about working and shut himself in his office. She hadn’t seen him since.
They weren’t fighting. Not really. They just had very different views of the way things were.
For Penelope, she needed to leave before she fell for him and couldn’t pull away as easily. For Zach, there was no hurry because falling for her wasn’t a remote possibility.
Perhaps acknowledging that was what hurt most.
“I overreacted,” he said, walking into the room. “Did you eat?”
“All I do is eat.” She gave him a tired smile. “Did you?”
“Just ate a sandwich.”
“Dinner at nine-thirty.”
“Bachelor,” he explained.
Her heart squeezed at the word. That was the problem. Even with his pregnant fiancée in the house, Zach still considered himself single.
His eyes searched the room before landing on her again. “I don’t want you to move out. I don’t want to miss anything.”
She had to close herself off from the sincerity in his voice. There was a bigger picture—the baby girl residing in her growing belly.
“You won’t miss anything,” she promised. “My stomach is going to get larger, my ankles more swollen, my temper more out of control. It might even get as bad as yours.”
He shook his head in agreement. “I’m sorry about that.”
He sat on the bed and lifted the delicate edge of her short cotton nightie, skimming the lace hemline up to expose her thighs. When one large, warm hand landed on her skin, she found it suddenly hard to breathe.
This was such a bad idea. Sealing her tumultuous feelings with sex wouldn’t bring her closer to a resolution but take her further from it.
“How tired are you?” His green eyes sought hers.
Who was she fooling? Could she really convince herself she wasn’t in love with him? Not when he looked at her the way he looked at her now. Not when he was watching the monitor at Dr. Cho’s office with rapt attention and pride. And not when he touched her—especially when he touched her.
Zach claimed her as his that night in the mayor’s mansion. She thought then it’d been about sex and physical love, but now she realized that claim was staked deep in her heart and soul. And the proof of it was incubating in her womb.
“Not too tired,” she whispered, her eyes glazing over with staunch acceptance. She’d rather have him than not—even if it drove another stake into her lovesick heart.
He leaned forward to place a kiss on her bared shoulder. His tongue flicked under the strap, then dragged up her neck, giving her all of his attention like no other woman in his past or present who’d commanded it.
Warmth flooded her tummy, the flutter between her legs having everything to do with a million jettisoning hormones. She buried her lovelorn emotions into a deep, dark corner of her being and focused on the present. Focused on giving in to her physical needs—and riding Zach like the cowboy she once thought he was.
Her nightie was gone in a whisper as he lifted it over her head and tossed it to the floor. He smoothed his hand along her swollen belly, moving to her breasts next.
Lying back, she closed her eyes as his amazing mouth skated over one nipple then the other. The sensations assaulting her brought an end to the warring emotions in her chest and the thoughts littering her brain. And when his hands moved between her thighs and stroked, every ounce of her attention went there. Nothing felt as natural, as all-consuming, as making love with Zachary Ferguson.
His lips were at home on her body—anywhere on her body. Every inch of her belonged to him.
She reached for his T-shirt, tugging at it weakly. “Off.”
“Yes, ma’am.” There was the drawl she loved so much. He whipped off his shirt to reveal his chest and once again, breathing became difficult. Was it any wonder she let herself indulge in what she thought would only be one night with him? Was it any wonder she indulged now?
She took a page from Zach’s book and released her worries of responsibility and the future, letting go like dandelion fluff on a thick summer’s breeze. She focused on his physicality instead.
His broad shoulders, round like he spent the day hauling hay bales instead of sliding a mouse across his desk. His biceps, straining as he shoved his jeans to his knees. Thick thighs, covered in coarse, dark-blond hair and leading down to sturdy feet. All of him was gorgeous. And for the moment, hers.
“You keep looking at me like that, Penelope Brand, and I’m not going to last a minute.” His green eyes sparked in challenge. His dimple dented his cheek as he shucked his boxers.
She embraced the idea of behaving like an out-of-control teenager. Pen had always been drawn to stability...until she’d moved to Dallas. Until she’d laid eyes on Zach. He made her embrace the moment. Made her live in right now.
His hot skin came in contact with hers and she could’ve sworn she felt sparks dance on her skin. He stripped her panties down her legs and once she was naked, pressed every part of himself against her.
She moaned. He was perfect.
He was hers. In a superficial, temporary sense, but nonetheless hers.
* * *
“Remember to pretend to be surprised,” Penelope told Zach as they stepped up to the entryway of the hotel. At the top floor stood the Regal Room, their destination. A popular choice for parties of the upscale variety. She’d never been, but knew about it, and had recommended it for some of her more elite clients in Dallas.
“Should I add clutching my heart for effect?” Zach leaned over to ask, his voice low. Then pressed the button for the elevator.
“That might be poor form since Rider will be there.”
“Oh, right.” But his smirk hinted that he’d already figured that out.
This was the way things had been in the two weeks since their argument that ended in bed. They’d ended up in bed several times since and each interaction was like the last. Penelope fell deeper in love with him, and Zach maintained his position as kind, caring father of her child.
It should be enough. She wanted to be the woman for whom it would be enough. Where his loyalty and limited offerings would be substantial for as long as they lasted.
But they weren’t.
It was the wrong time to broach the topic, but she’d been unable to summon the bravery to do it before. Now or never, as the saying went. So while the elevator zipped them to their destination, she blurted, “I’m going to announce that the wedding is on hold when I announce that we’re having a daughter.”
His steely glare matched the hardness of his jaw. “Penelope.”
“I’m not asking permission.” She lifted her chin. It was past time she pulled the plug on the relationship that was rapidly eating away at her heart.
“This isn’t—” he started, but the elevator doors swished open at that moment.
They stepped out of the elevator and were greeted by a sea of smiling faces, very few of which she recognized.
Collectively, a shout rose in the room. “Congratulations!”
The “surprise” baby shower wasn’t pink and blue or even green and yellow. The palette was a sophisticated blend of white and gold, right down to the confetti now littering the floor. Balloons tied with gold-and-black ribbon were suspended from the main table, which boasted flutes of champagne and an array of tapas displayed on elegant platters.
The banner draping the back of the room was white with gold metallic cursive lettering reading, “It’s a baby!”
A few flashes from cameras snapped as Stefanie broke off from the crowd and enveloped Pen into a warm hug. Pen held on a beat longer than she expected. Ending the engagement with Zach also would mean distancing herself from his family, and she was going to miss Stef when she left.
“We’re very surprised,” Pen said, including Zach, who stood at her side like a wall. She quirked an eyebrow at him and his mouth pulled into a tight smile for the benefit of their guests. Yes, probably her timing wasn’t the best on telling him her plans.
Stef hugged her brother next. “I know you hate surprises, Zach, but try to lighten up.”
“I’ll try,” came his gruff response.
“So, I lied about this being a cake-tasting,” Stefanie said, gesturing to a round table off to the side, “but we do have cake.”
Chase, Elle and Rider emerged from the crowd next to deliver hugs and welcomes. Elle, in particular, was notably excited.
“Granddaughter or grandson?” she asked Pen conspiratorially. “One blink for a girl, two for a boy.”
“No! Absolutely not.” Stefanie positioned herself between her mother and Penelope. “Nine o’clock is the announcement, and not a moment before.”
“Nine o’clock,” Pen said, her own smile faltering. A quick glance to Zach confirmed that his was gone completely. “Uh, Stefanie, this room is amazing. The party, the food. Everything looks incredible.”
She had to focus on her appreciation for what Stef had done, and pray that she could somehow dismantle the engagement and announce that she was expecting a girl without ruining the vibe of the party, or undoing Stef’s hard work. She hoped Stef would understand and forgive her.
Stefanie put a hand on her hip and gestured like a model on The Price is Right. “I did it myself. I mean, yeah, okay, I had a team helping, but the ideas came out of my brain.”
“Well, it’s incredible,” Pen said, meaning it. “If I need a party of any kind in the future, I’m coming to you.”
“Sparkling grape juice.” Stef plucked a flute from a waiter’s tray. “I put little purple ribbons on the nonalcoholic drinks for you.” Pen accepted her bubbly drink, a lump settling in her throat. She forced it down and called up her party smile again.
“Come see what else I have planned.” Stef wrapped her arm around Pen’s and led her away. Pen gladly took the reprieve—anything to keep Zach from bringing up the conversation she’d railroaded him with in the elevator.
He was easy to avoid over the next two hours given that Stef had filled the evening with games—albeit sophisticated ones.
“We’re adults,” Stef had said with committed seriousness. “I’m not melting chocolate bars in diapers, or asking guests to guess your belly width with lengths of toilet paper.”
“Thank you for that.” As sisters went, Zach hit the jackpot. Pen ignored the feeling of melancholy that swept over her. No matter where Pen and Zach ended up, Stef would always be their daughter’s aunt. Pen would hold on to that.
Dessert was a selection of miniature cakes or cupcakes, and cake pops on sticks, all decorated in white fondant with edible gold sprinkles. Pen sampled the sweets, and drank down another sparkling grape juice as she played coy about her baby’s sex. She’d lost count of how many times she’d told someone “Sorry. The announcement is at nine.”
About twenty minutes before the evening’s most anticipated hour, she found an opening and slipped away from the crowd. Zach and Chase were speaking to their grandparents’ friends and since Pen had already spoken with Rudy and Ana, she knew their conversation could last well past the time Pen and Zach were to take the mic.
August in Illinois was hot, but nothing like Texas hot. There wasn’t much fresh air to be had on the balcony, but it was private, and she desperately needed a break from the fake smiles. Her cheeks were starting to ache.
Sweltering heat, even this late in the day, blanketed her bare shoulders. Hot, yes, but quiet. She rested her hands on the railing and looked out at the city beyond. Of all the goals for a fresh start she’d made when she left Chicago, none of them had involved a giant engagement ring on her finger, a billionaire fiancé and a baby due by Christmas.
The phrase “Man plans and God laughs” flitted through her brain, but she could admit she was laughing with Him. True, she hadn’t planned any of this, but she was also so incredibly grateful to be pregnant—something she likely never would’ve planned.
Her eyes tracked to the windows and she spotted Zach, dark slacks accentuating his height, button-down pale blue shirt unable to hide his muscular build.
Her heart did what it’d been doing for a few weeks now, and gave an almost painful squeeze. She’d fallen for him. Head over heels. Ass over teakettle. Hook, line and sinker.
No matter how hard she tried to compartmentalize her feelings from the relationship, they managed to glob together into one four-letter word.
Love.
Whenever he walked into a room, she lit up. She sank into him whenever he pulled her close for a kiss, like she could fuse her very being with his. But all of this oneness and overwhelming feeling of rightness wasn’t shared by her betrothed.
Zach offered support, loyalty and means but not love. Love for his daughter? Most definitely. But for Pen, his caring stopped at friendship, and some days before that. Since she’d learned about his ex, Lonna, it was like she could visibly spot each and every boundary line he drew. Those boundaries were intentional—whether he was aware he was doing it or not.
He took care of her, provided for her every need and was adamant about not missing a moment of his daughter’s life. Zach made love to Penelope with a single-minded focus on her pleasure, and if she were a fresh-faced twentysomething, she might mistake his actions for love.
But as a thirtysomething who’d been around the proverbial block a few times, she knew better.
He gave and gave and gave...everything but his heart. That part of his anatomy was walled off so solidly, she hadn’t managed to breach the outer layer. And if she noticed the distance between them—her besotted, and him casually comfortable—so would his family, eventually. And so would their daughter.
Pen had made a lot of decisions recently—big, sweeping life decisions—and the number-one decision she’d made was to put her daughter first.
She would sacrifice anything—her job, her home, her very lifestyle—to give her daughter what she needed. She’d even sacrifice what she had with Zach. And that was saying something as it was the first time she’d truly been in love.
In the quiet, dark corners of her mind lay a flickering hope that Zach might come around. That he might open up and learn to love her. The optimist in her thought he might, but the realist in her couldn’t risk what it meant if he never did.
She wasn’t waiting around for him to decide to love her. Not with their daughter watching. And that was why she also couldn’t let the engagement continue. Sure, there’d be a stir of interest and a touch of gossip, but she could spin their interest toward their daughter. She was the reason for the relationship anyway. Most of it.
Some of it, Pen sadly corrected.
Regardless, percentages didn’t matter. Penelope didn’t want her love for Zach to grow bitter and stale after years of not being returned. More important, she didn’t want her daughter to witness her mother’s feelings for her father crumbling into dust.
Their daughter would have a mother and a father who cared about one another, who respected one another. Who loved her with all their hearts. And that was going to have to be enough. For all of them.
Zach must’ve escaped the clutches of his grandparents’ friends, because he now stood at the balcony door with Chase. They were talking, looking very much like brothers with the same strong lines of their backs and hands buried in pants pockets.
Zach chose that moment to look over and catch her eye. He didn’t smile, but held her gaze with a smoldering one of his own. His longish hair was tickling the collar of his shirt, his full mouth flinching in displeasure.
As magnanimous as she’d sounded in her own ears moments ago, Pen’s heart throbbed with the need to satisfy her own desires rather than her daughter’s.
She only wished loving Zach satisfied both.