A Baby for the Boss (7 page)

“That’s a problem?” Mike leaned back in his chair and tried to keep his mind on Sean’s issues. Not easy when Sean was right about the almost-kiss moment. Seconds ago, he’d been about to—what? Kiss Jenny? Grab her, hold her? Close the office door and lay her down across his desk?

Damn it. Now he was hard and hot and it was even more difficult to focus on Sean.

“Sounds like a good plan to me,” Mike said. “I like that this Wells woman has a good work ethic. Eager to get started, get a jump on things. Hell, she could have half of it done by the time the snow melts.”

“Yeah?” Sean turned to look at him, exasperation clear on his face. “To get her started, I have to go the hell out there and work with her on the plans. Go through the hotel, see what’s what, just like you did in Laughlin.”

“Ah.” In spite of everything else that was crowding his mind, Mike had to smile. “That’s what this is about. You don’t want to go to Wyoming.”

“Of course I don’t,” Sean snapped. “There’s
snow
there. Lots of it. Have you looked outside
here
today?” He waved one hand at the window behind him. “Blue skies, puffy white clouds,
sun
. It’s almost eighty today. You know what it is in Wyoming? I do. I checked. It’s twenty-eight. That’s the
high
.”

Mike chuckled and at his brother’s glare, tried his best to muffle it and failed. “It’s not forever, Sean. You go out, do the work, come back. At the most, you’ll miss a few days of surfing. You’ll survive.”

“Thanks for the support,” his brother muttered. “I’d have to take one of the artists to look the place over for murals, too. Hey.” His face brightened. “Think Jenny’d be interested in a quick trip to snow country? Her sketches are great, she’d probably be a big help—”

“No.” Mike cut him off before he could get going. Damned if he was going to sit back and have Jenny fly off to Wyoming with Sean. They’d be alone on the plane, at the hotel... No.

“Well, that was decisive.”

“Just get one of the others to go with you.”

“Not going to be easy to coax someone off a beach and into a snowbank.”

“We’ve all got our problems,” Mike told him, and instantly, his mind shot back to Jenny.

The problem there was he couldn’t stop thinking about her, wanting her, needing her. And he knew damn well that there was no place in his life for her. He already knew that she was a liar. Okay, fine, she hadn’t lied
lately
. But that didn’t mean a damn thing. All it told him was that more lies were coming. When? What kind? And how the hell could he be so damn interested in a woman he
knew
he couldn’t trust?

Sean came back, sat in the chair again, braced his forearms on the desk and leaned in. “Talk to me, Mike. What is going on with you? What’s the deal with Jenny?”

Tempting to confide in Sean, but at the core of it, Mike wasn’t a big sharer. He kept his thoughts, his emotions, locked down tight. Not many people got past the wall he’d built around himself. He loved his brother, but there were some things a man just didn’t discuss. With anyone.

Shaking his head, Mike scraped one hand across his face. “Nothing I want to talk about, okay?”

Sean watched him for a long minute before saying, “All right. But I’m here when you want to talk. Remember that.”

“I will.”

“Okay,” Sean said. “You’re going to Mom and Dad’s tonight, right? Not backing out?”

From one problem to another. Mike had considered blowing off his father’s birthday dinner. He didn’t need the aggravation piled on top of everything else going on. All he needed was to stoke the fire burning at the back of his brain. But if he didn’t show up, his mother would make him pay. Somehow. Didn’t seem to matter how old you were, your mother retained power over you. And Peggy Ryan had no difficulty wielding that power.

“Yeah, I’m going.”

“Wow, feel the enthusiasm.”

Mike glared at him. “I’m going. Should be good enough.”

“You keep saying things that make me want more information,” Sean told him, leaning back in his chair. He kicked his feet up and crossed them on the corner of Mike’s desk. “You don’t want to talk about Jenny. How about you tell me why you’re always pissed at Dad.”

“Not going there, either.”

“You are not an easy person to have for a brother,” Sean told him with a shake of his head. “You’ve got more secrets than the CIA.”

“And the nature of a secret is, it’s not talked about.”

“That’s what you think,” Sean countered. “You know I could find out. I could just go to Mom.”

“Don’t.” He didn’t want his mother reminded of old pain. Didn’t want her to have to tell her other son the things she’d inadvertently told Mike so many years before.

“Just ‘don’t’? That’s all I get? What the hell, Mike? You’ve been at war with Dad for years and you won’t say why.” Sean braced both hands on the edge of the desk. “If you know something I should, then tell me.”

Mike studied his brother for a long minute. During that short period of time, his brain raced through the familiar scenarios he knew he would be facing over dinner. Strained conversations, his mother trying to be overly bright and happy, his father sending Mike covert glances. It wouldn’t be pleasant. Wouldn’t be easy. But he would play the game for his mother’s sake.

As far as his little brother went, though, there was just no reason for Sean to have to battle the same emotions that Mike did when the family was together. “Sean, believe me, you don’t want to know. So just let it go, all right?”

For a second or two, Sean looked as though he’d argue, but finally, he nodded and stood up. “Fine. But try to remember. I might be your younger brother...but I’m not a kid you need to protect.”

Maybe not, Mike thought, but there was no reason to shatter his illusions, either.

* * *

A few hours later, Jenny jolted out of the movie she was watching when someone knocked at her door. Wearing her flannel sleep pants and a white tank, she was curled up on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and a glass of wine. Not working. Trying not to think. Just immersing herself in a few harmless explosions on the television.

She wasn’t expecting anyone, so naturally, her very excellent imagination conjured up images of roving pirates, rabid serial killers or maybe even an escapee from a mental institution, all crowded together on her tiny front porch.

She wasn’t the nervous Nellie type, but when she was alone at night, she often thought about getting a dog. A big one. But for now, she got up, looked out the curtains and sighed, both relieved and annoyed.

Mike.

At least he wasn’t a marauder, but why did he have to show up when she looked hideous? No makeup, her hair a messy tumble of curls and wearing her
Star Wars
flannels? And what did it matter? she asked herself. He’d made it clear he wasn’t interested, so let him see the real her...flannel jammies and all.

She opened the door and looked up at him.

“You don’t ask who it is before you open a door?” he demanded, blue eyes flashing.

“Wow. Hello to you, too.”

“Come on, Jenny. You’re a woman living alone. Be smart.”

“I looked out the window and saw you.”

“Oh, that’s all right, then.”

“Thanks very much.” One hand on the open door, one on the jamb, she asked, “What are you doing here, Mike?”

“Honestly,” he said, “I don’t know. Just had dinner with the family at my folks’ house and didn’t want to go home yet. I drove around for a while and ended up here.”

Fascinating.

He wore a black jacket over a white shirt, open at the collar, with black jeans and boots that looked as if they’d seen a lot of miles. His hair had been ruffled by the wind and his eyes looked...empty. His features were tight, his shoulders tense, and Jenny thought he was on the verge of leaving. She didn’t want him to.

“Do you want a glass of wine?” she asked.

His gaze fixed on hers. “That’d be good. Thanks.”

Polite, but distant. That, plus a little outright suspicion, she was used to. Tonight, though, there was a sadness about him that she’d never seen before and Jenny felt a flicker of worry she knew he wouldn’t appreciate.

He stepped inside, and she closed and locked the door behind him.

“You were at your parents’ house, you said. Are they okay? Sean?”

He looked at her. “Yeah. They’re all fine.”

She tipped her head to one side and studied him. “You’re not.”

He laughed shortly and scraped one hand along his jaw. “I don’t like being read that easily, but no, I guess not.”

It was the first time she could ever remember seeing Mike Ryan vulnerable in any way. Normally he was so in charge, so much the stalwart head of a billion-dollar company, that seeing his features strained and closed off was unsettling. She’d rather have him raging at her than see him looking so lost.

“I shouldn’t have come here—” he said abruptly.

But he had, Jenny told herself. For whatever reason, he’d been upset and he’d come to
her
. That had to mean something, didn’t it? “Stay. Take off your jacket. Sit down. Have a glass of wine, Mike.”

It took a moment or two, but he finally nodded and said, “Okay, thanks.”

He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it across the back of a chair, then looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time. It wasn’t his first visit, though. He’d been here before. The night they’d— Whoops. Probably not a good idea to think about that right now.

Mike stood in the middle of the small living room, glanced at the popcorn and her wineglass and then shifted his gaze to hers. “Movie night?”

She shrugged. “I just wanted to relax, you know. A lot going on right now...”

“Tell me about it.” He sat on the couch, took a handful of popcorn and watched the movie playing out on the screen.

She went to the kitchen to get him that wine, then walked back to the living room and handed him a glass of chardonnay. He took a sip, gestured with the glass toward the TV and asked,
“Die Hard?”

She smiled and sat on the other end of the couch. “It’s my feel-good movie. You know, Christmas, good guys beating the bad guys...”

“And lots of stuff blowing up.”

“Exactly.” She grinned and sipped her wine.

“I didn’t know you liked action movies.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“And some I do,” he said, a frown flattening his mouth.

“Or think you do,” she countered. She wasn’t a liar and a thief, and she felt that somewhere inside him, he knew that or he wouldn’t have been sitting on her couch.

“Touché.” He nodded, glanced at the television again. “One guy going against a whole crew.”

“To save his wife,” she said with a satisfied sigh. “It’s romantic.”

He chuckled. “Romance and bombs?”

“Works for me.”

His gaze shifted to the flannel pants she wore. “Darth Vader pajamas?”

She grinned. “They’re cozy.” And were a gift from her uncle Hank, but she doubted he’d want to hear that.

“I don’t know what to think about you, Jenny,” he said.

“Good. I’m glad. That means you’re not entirely sure you should think what you used to think because now you think your thinking might have been wrong.”

He blinked at her, then shook his head. “I actually followed that.”

Turning his head again, he stared at the television. In the flickering light, darkness passed over his features, highlighting the shadows crouched in his eyes.

“Why are you really here, Mike?”

Slowly, he looked back at her. “You know why.”

There was that wild flutter and rush of anticipation moving through her stomach again. She took a swallow of wine to ease her suddenly dust-dry throat, then set the glass on the table in front of her.

Jenny knew exactly what he was talking about. She’d felt it in the office today. Before Sean came in, there had been a slow, simmering burn between Mike and her, and that fire was still there, hot as ever. Acting on it would be a huge mistake. But
not
acting on it was driving her crazy.

“Yes,” she said softly, holding his gaze with her own. “I know.”

“So the question is,” Mike asked, voice low and deep and intimate, “do you want me to leave?”

“No.”

“Thank God.” He set his glass down and reached for her.

Pushing the popcorn out of the way, Jenny went into his arms; all the while her mind called out a warning she refused to heed. She didn’t want to be wise. Didn’t want to be smart. She wanted Mike and that just wouldn’t change.

But it was more than that, she admitted silently as Mike’s mouth claimed hers. She leaned into him, opened to him, and felt the heat within build into something that was both wilder and more...steady than anything she’d ever known before.

Her breath caught, as understanding dawned. Her mind spun and she clung to Mike because he was the only steady point in her universe.

She loved Mike Ryan.

Her brain went into overdrive in the span of a single heartbeat. The months of working at Celtic Knot, watching Mike work with young artists, encouraging them. Seeing his dedication to his work, his brother and friend. Knowing that he didn’t trust her, but having him give her the opportunity to work on his hotel in spite of it all.

He didn’t trust her.

Didn’t love her.

There was misery lying in wait, and Jenny knew it. But her whole life had been spent wanting the very feelings that were crashing down around her right now.

So she’d risk the pain to have this one moment—even if Mike never knew what was shining in her heart.

Seven

A
few days later, Mike was at his desk when the video chat bell on his phone went off. He hit Answer and his brother’s face appeared on the screen.

“I hate Wyoming.”

Mike laughed. Sean looked haggard, on edge. His eyes were narrowed, whisker stubble covered his jaws and the scowl he wore looked as if it had been permanently etched into his face.

“Don’t hold back, tell me how you really feel.”

“Funny.” Sean glanced over his shoulder, then back into the camera. “It hasn’t stopped snowing since I got here. There’s like three feet of snow piling up out there and it’s still coming down. I don’t think it’ll ever stop.”

“Sounds cold.”

“Hah! Beyond cold. Beyond freezing. I’m wearing two sweaters
inside.
”

Chuckling, Mike asked, “What’s it like when you’re not bitching about how cold you are?”

Sean sighed then grudgingly admitted, “It’s pretty. Lots of trees. Lots of open land. And who knew the sky was so big when you get out of the city?”

Mike smiled. He’d discovered that for himself when he and Jenny were in Laughlin. Of course, allowing Jenny into his mind meant opening himself up to the memories that never really left him. Her smile. Her eyes. The feel of her skin against his. The soft sigh of her breath as she surrendered to him. Stopping in at her house after work, spending the evening watching movies, making love, talking about the work, the hotel. Talking about everything except for the fact that he couldn’t trust her.

Pushing those thoughts away, he asked, “What’s the hotel itself like, Sean?”

“Big. Cold. Empty.” Sean blew out a frustrated breath and pushed one hand through his hair. “But the bones are good. A lot of work to do to turn it into a ‘Forest Run’ fantasy.”

“And is Kate Wells up to the task?”

“To hear her tell it,” Sean muttered. “Anyway, there’s a hundred and fifty guest rooms and they all need work.”

“If we go with your idea to hold our own game con on the property, we’ll need more rooms. Are there other hotels close by?”

“No. We’re ten miles from the closest town and it’s got two B and Bs and one motel right off the highway.”

It was Mike’s turn to frown. “Sean, we can’t go with a big conference if there’s nowhere for people to stay.” He took a breath and spoke again before Sean could suggest camping. “And don’t say people can pitch tents.”

Sean laughed. “Just because I like camping doesn’t mean I want strangers staying all over the property. Anyway, there’s a bigger city about twenty-five miles from here, with more hotels and Kate—the contractor—had another idea on that, too.”

“What’s she thinking?” Mike picked up his coffee and took a long drink.

Sean’s frown deepened. “Is that a cappuccino? You bastard.”

“I’ll enjoy it for you.”

“Thanks.” Shaking his head, Sean said, “Kate thinks we should put in some small cabins, behind the main lodge, staggered back into the forest. Give people more privacy, a sense of being out in the open...”

Mike nodded, thinking about it. “It’s a good idea.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Yet you don’t look happy about it.”

“Because she was so damn sure she was right,” Sean told him. “It’s hard agreeing she was.”

“Sounds like you’re having a great time,” Mike said with another deliberate sip of his hot coffee.

Sean’s eyes narrowed into slits. “This woman is the most hardheaded person I’ve ever dealt with and that includes
you
.”

“As long as she does good work, that’s all you should care about.”

“Yeah, yeah.
She wants to get her crew in here next week and start in on the rehab and I don’t see a problem with it.” He paused and ran one finger around the collar of his black sweater. “As long as I can oversee it from California.”

“Okay, but since you didn’t take any of the artists with you, what’ll she do about the painting we’ll need done?”

“Come on,” Sean said. “I couldn’t bring an artist out here when everyone’s doing the final run on ‘The Wild Hunt.’”

True. It was bad timing all the way around, really. Sean had had to get to the next hotel and every artist in the company was focused on the finishing touches of the game that would be released next.

“Anyway,” Sean continued, “how hard is it to leave walls blank? They can paint it white or something and then when we bring the artists in, they can change it to whatever.”

“That’ll work. You still coming home tomorrow?”

“That’s the plan, thank God,” Sean said. “Kate’s outside, bringing her truck around. Naturally, it’s still snowing.”

“If it makes you feel any better, it’s seventy-five here today.”

“Great. Thanks. That just caps it.” A door slammed somewhere. Sean looked to one side and shouted, “What?”

“What is it?” Mike asked.

“Karma probably,” Sean told him, his expression disgusted. “Kate just heard on the truck radio that the pass down the mountain is closed. I’m snowed in.”

Mike tried not to, but his brother looked so furious and frustrated, he couldn’t hold back the laughter. Even as Sean gave him a dirty look, Mike held up one hand and tried to stop laughing. “Sorry, sorry.”

“How is this funny?” Sean demanded. “I’m trapped in an empty hotel with a crabby contractor and a mountain of snow outside the door.”

“Clearly,” Mike said finally, “it’s only funny from California. But have you got food, heat?”

“Yeah,” Sean said, then spoke to someone in the room with him. “Come here for a minute. Meet my brother.”

A second or two later, a woman popped onto the screen. Pretty, with a heart-shaped face and a wide mouth, she had black hair and eyes as blue as Sean’s. She was wearing a baseball cap pulled low on her forehead and what looked like a heavy green sweater.

“Hi, I’m Kate and you’re Mike,” she said, words tumbling over each other. “Nice to meet you, but we don’t have a lot of time to talk. There’s firewood outside, we need to bring it in before the rest of the storm hits. Don’t worry, though. There’s plenty of food since I make sure my crew is fed while they work and we’ve been out here this last week taking measurements and getting ideas about the work.”

“Okay.” Mike threw that word in fast, thinking he probably wouldn’t have another chance to speak. He was right.

“The storm’ll blow through in a day or two and the plows will have the pass cleared out pretty quickly, so you can have your brother back by the end of the week.”

“Okay...”

Sean grabbed the phone and told Kate, “I’ll be right there to help. Yeah. Okay.” When he looked back at Mike, he was shaking his head. “I was this close—” he held up two fingers just a breath apart “—from getting outta Dodge. Now I don’t know when I’ll get out. Tell Mom not to worry and don’t bother calling me. I’m going to shut off the cell phone, conserve power.”

“Okay.” In spite of the fact that he’d been amused only a few minutes ago by Sean’s situation, now Mike wondered. “You sure you’ll be all right?”

Sean laughed now. “I’m the outdoors guy, remember? There may not be any waves to surf out here, but I’ll be fine. I’ve been camping in worse situations than I’ve got here. At least we have a roof and plenty of beds to choose from. I’ll call when I can. Just keep a cappuccino hot for me because I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I will. And, Sean?” Mike added, “Don’t kill the contractor.”

Smirking, Sean said, “I make no promises.”

* * *

Two weeks later, Jenny was fighting a resilient flu that just refused to go away.

Every morning her stomach did an oily slide toward rebellion and every morning she fought it back. She was simply too busy to let some determined bug knock her flat. So she went to work, forced herself to eat and by evening was usually feeling if not great, at least better. Until the next day when it would all start again.

Hunched over her tablet, Jenny made notes on the hotel murals, then shifted files and added a few more finishing touches on the Wise Woman sketches for “The Wild Hunt.” The witch was great and the addition to the script had really given the game that extra punch.

She’d even played the beta game the day before herself just to see how difficult it really was to find the extra runes that would free the witch. It was a challenge. So she knew the hardcore gamers among their fans were going to love it.

Yawning, she shut down that program and called up the list of artists and painters she’d developed. She’d need to hire at least three or four people to help her with the murals and would have to check out their qualifications first.

Sunlight slanted in through the windows of the graphic arts department and all around her conversations and ripples of laughter rang out. Fingers hit keyboards, rock music played softly from one of the cubicles, and here and there in the room people bent their heads together to go over the work.

None of the distractions bothered her because Jenny was used to working with background noise. She’d never yet met an artist who did their best work in sterile silence. So while her friends and colleagues worked the games, Jenny went to artists’ websites.

She looked at portfolios, studied techniques, then checked the artists’ bios and read about their backgrounds. Artists were usually solitary people, but she needed those who could work with others and take instruction. That was the hard part and she knew it. Most artists treasured their own vision of whatever they were working on at the time and didn’t much care for someone else coming in and telling them what to do next.

But in this case, whoever was hired had to be willing to go along with the plans for the murals and portraits. They had to stick to the creative brief that Jenny was still finishing and not waste time arguing over the direction of the project.

She yawned and scrolled through the bio of a Nevada artist who specialized in fantasy paintings. His work was stellar but the smugness of his bio convinced Jenny he wasn’t a team player.

“Next,” she muttered and closed the page before moving on to another name on her list. She only needed to find one more artist and then she could get moving on the actual painting on-site.

“Hey, Jen—”

She looked up and smiled at Casey Williams. New to the company, Casey was a talented intern. She’d only worked at Celtic Knot for a couple of months, but she’d slid right into the mix as if she’d always been there. About twenty-five, Casey was married with a baby son. She had long dark hair that lay in a single braid across her shoulder. Her T-shirt was bright red, her jeans were a faded gray and her flip-flops revealed the green polish on her toes.

“What’s up, Casey?” Jenny smothered another yawn behind her hand.

“Dave wants to know if you’ve finished tweaking the Wise Woman—”

“Yes, just a few minutes ago. I’ll email the file to him.”

“Cool. And I just want to say, I love your vision of her.” Casey’s hands were gripped together at her waist. “I saw the prelim sketches and they’re amazing. It was a great idea to include her as a surprise for gamers. But the images are what really grabbed me. She’s powerful and beautiful and— You don’t look so hot.”

Jenny laughed shortly. And here she thought she’d been so good about covering up how miserable she felt. “Thanks.”

“No.” Casey backtracked fast. “No, I mean, you look like you still don’t feel well.”

“Actually, I really don’t,” Jenny said, shaking her head, then regretting the abrupt motion because it wobbled her already unsteady stomach a little. For days, she’d been dragging around the office, trying to concentrate on the work even while her body continually reminded her she should be home in bed.

“Um...” Casey glanced around her, as if checking to make sure no one could overhear them. Then she sat down on the edge of a chair and leaned in closer. “I know we don’t know each other very well yet, so this is probably out of line. But you’ve been feeling sick for a week or more now, right?”

“Yes...” Jenny said, wondering where this was going.

“I know this is none of my business.” Casey took a breath and then let it go. “But I know the signs because I lived them myself a year ago.”

Confused, Jenny asked, “What’re you talking about? What signs?”

“Is it possible,” Casey asked gently, “that this isn’t the flu? That maybe you’re pregnant?”

Shock held Jenny in place for a slow count of ten. Her mind, however, was racing. Thinking.
Counting.

“Oh, my God.” Panic rose up and choked off the nausea in the pit of her stomach. She did some fast calculating again, running through the numbers, the weeks, the possibilities. And ended up wheezing for air.

“Yeah,” Casey whispered, nodding in understanding, “that’s what I thought.”

Oh, God, how far out of it was she that another woman was the one who had to tell her she was pregnant? How had she missed this? But even as she asked herself that, she knew the answer. She hadn’t figured it out because she hadn’t wanted to. Her relationship with Mike was so...tricky, a pregnancy was going to change everything.

Casey was still talking; excited, comforting, worried, Jenny couldn’t be sure. All she really heard was a buzz of sound from the other woman. It was as if Jenny’s head were filled with cotton, muffling everything but the pounding of her own heart.

Pregnant? By her
boss
?

It was more than possible, she knew. Instantly, her mind dragged up images from over the past few weeks. Incredible sex, sharing moments with Mike that she wouldn’t trade for anything. They’d used protection of course, but no contraception worked 100 percent guaranteed. Would Mike believe that, though? No, he wouldn’t.

Oh, God.

She blinked and the office came back into focus. She looked at Casey, and saw the woman’s encouraging smile. All around her, life went on as usual, with no one but Casey aware that Jenny’s world had just taken a major shift. She took a breath, tried to calm down, but that wasn’t going to happen. Not until she knew, for sure. She could suspect she was pregnant, but until she knew without a doubt, she wouldn’t be able to think clearly. Wouldn’t be able to face Mike, with this suspicion simmering in her bloodstream. She had to know. Now. Suddenly, she couldn’t sit there a moment longer.