Baby, Be Mine (8 page)

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Authors: Vivian Arend

BOOK: Baby, Be Mine
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Oh boy.

“I…”
He wanted honesty.
Katy lifted her eyes to meet his square on. “I like you, Gage. Part of me really hopes what you’re saying is true because I’ve wanted to get involved with you for a long time. Of course, that means if we did fool around and I’ve forgotten, I’m doubly pissed off, because I’d been waiting forever, and it’s just wrong to have lost those memories.”

His smile had widened, the sexy one that melted her butter faster than it should. “Trust me, I can hardly wait to make some new ones.”

Dammit. Dammit.
Dammit
. She held up a hand as if to ward him off. “But we can’t. Not yet.”

Confusion crowded his expression. “If you want to be with me, and I want to be with you, then why aren’t we getting together, Katy? Why aren’t we facing the future, and your pregnancy, as partners the way we should?”

A wave of sadness and frustration rolled over her leaving her exhausted. “What if Simon is the dad?”

Gage all but growled. “First, I’m damn positive he’s not, but more importantly, you don’t want to be with him. You don’t
have
to be with him just because he said you’d made up.”

“And you said we fooled around, but I. Don’t. Remember.” Katy’s voice rose higher as she spoke. She shot to her feet, her hands wrapped around a throw pillow that had been passed down from her Gramma, its fine decorative needlework spelling out
Bless This House
. She squeezed the fabric as she paced the room. “Give me a break. I admitted that I’ve always liked you, Gage, but as far as I know we’ve never even
kissed
. How on earth can I simply go ‘hey, okay’ and dive headfirst into a long-term relationship with you? None of it makes sense, and not being sure is frustrating me more and more.”

Anger boiled over, and she whipped the pillow from her hands. It spun across the room, narrowly missing a table lamp. Katy pressed her fists against her temples as she fought to settle down.

Stupid hormones. Or maybe the “new Katy” had triggered her over-the-top response. The one with far too much vinegar in her blood.

Gage hadn’t taken his gaze off her. Probably worried she’d flipped out, and might turn on him next, and do crazy things. She dragged a hand over the short mess of hair that had regrown and let out a frustrated grumble.

Gage was on his feet in an instant, gently rubbing her upper arms as he made soothing noises. He pulled her against his chest, and it wasn’t sexual, just comfort and understanding.

Katy twisted her face to the side, slipped her arms around him and accepted his hug. Let the warmth of the embrace twine around them. Let the smooth repetitive touch of his hands down her back relax away the tension. She stood there in his arms for a good five minutes before all the frustration and fire had eased off enough that she could finally take a deep breath.

Gage squeezed her a little tighter. “I’m here for you. Like this, if nothing more. My commitment has no agendas, no deadlines. Just one moment after another until we make it through.”

Under her cheek his heart pumped out a smooth, even tempo, and Katy clung tight. To the firm support of his body and gentle touch of his hands. While she’d wanted him for a long time in some half-dreamed-of sexual-fantasy world, right now things were still so unsettled. Visions of Simon walking away, and the unknown reactions of her family during the evening ahead loomed over her…

It was nice to have one solid place to stand. One solid individual she could lean against who helped stop the spinning, even for a moment.

She stepped away from him reluctantly. As nice as it was to have his support, she wanted one thing clear. “Dinner.”

“You have any requests other than your usual pineapple chicken balls?”

It should have been a good sign that her stomach didn’t do a roller-coaster trip at the suggestion of greasy food. “Other than that. Promise me you’ll let me tell them myself.”

He scowled.

Oh, hell no. This was not up for debate. “I will tell them that you’ve been nothing but supportive. Just let me do it my way, okay, Gage? They’re my family.”

Disagreement hovered—she saw it in his eyes.

Such expressive eyes he had. She’d never noticed quite as much before as in the past couple days. Everything he felt was right there. No secrets for Gage. His emotions were worn on his sleeve.

But he finally nodded. Gathered his coat and headed out the door, and this time as she watched yet another truck depart down the snowy drive, it was with a faint sense of hope.

Chapter Eight

Gage wondered what his chances were of making it through the evening without at least a black eye.

There were seven of them gathered tonight. Katy and himself. Mr. Thompson. The four boys started with Clay and rolled on down through Mitch, Len and Troy. Six years separated oldest from youngest, and all of them except Katy were over six feet.

They worked together. Played together, and basically tormented the hell out of each other like any true family. And they protected their own with a vengeance.

His getting Katy pregnant was not going to go over well.

Len nabbed a third helping from one of the takeout containers scattered over the table. “Even after I checked it thoroughly, Tanya Lynn insisted there was something ‘funny’ with her engine. I think it was a ploy to get Troy to take her for a test drive.”

“Did you take her for a test drive?” Clay taunted his youngest brother. “I thought you’d done that a few times last month already.”

“Fuck off.” Troy didn’t even blink. “You don’t seem to mind dealing with the repeat business of checking Carrie Taylor’s nearly brand-new Yukon.”

“She rides it hard,” Clay offered as an excuse.

“That’s what I hear.”

Gage laughed along with the rest of them. “You seeing Carrie Taylor, Clay? That’s new since I’ve been gone.”

Clay shrugged. “She’s alright.”

Troy directed a smirk at Mitch, obviously hoping to get attention off himself and onto someone else in the room. “Saw you got pulled over by Anna Coleman. Trying to set a new record for speeding tickets?”

Mitch leaned back, no denial on his face. “Not my fault she likes her men fast.”

Mr. Thompson cut in. “Enough about your love lives. Lord, I’d swear you were all a bunch of old women the way you go on at times. Gage, I want to know what you’ve got planned for the next while now that you got the travel bug out of your system. You sticking around Rocky more permanently, or did you like it up north?”

Beside him Katy wiggled. She’d been awfully quiet for most of the meal. Partly because it was impossible to get a word in edgewise. Mostly, though, he suspected she was nervous about sharing her news.

He understood the sensation. There was a huge knot in his belly. “Definitely sticking around Rocky. I made nice coin during my stint, but the oil fields are no place to work full time.”

The older man nodded. “You going to keep on at the shop with us then?”

“Yes, sir. No use in taking business from you—there’s not enough work for two shops.”

Talk turned to more business items for a bit. Familiar and easy, and Gage’s mind drifted.

The massive round table they were gathered around had been one of the first places in Rocky Mountain House Gage had truly felt welcome. His foster parents had meant well, and they’d been the best of the lot he’d ever had, but a caring couple in their late sixties couldn’t fill the holes in a fifteen-year-old’s heart. Couldn’t give the acceptance and real family feeling he’d gotten when Clay had brought him home to the Thompson dinner table.

Back then Meg Thompson had still been alive. She’d taken one look at Gage before hugging him tight then shoving fresh baking and an enormous list of chores on him and Clay.

The inclusion on the work list had meant more than the food and hugs. Belonging included sweat equity—Gage had known that instinctively.

He’d sat down at that first dinner with the four Thompson boys and ten-year-old Katy, and he’d felt at home for the first time since his own mother had been violently stolen from his life.

Beside him Katy had a definite case of ants in the pants, fidgeting like crazy until he wondered that none of the guys were noticing her strange behaviour. Gage laid a hand on her thigh out of sight of the others. Casual-like. Just a light pressure to let her know he was there for her.

Her entire body tightened, and she darted a glance around the table to see if anyone was watching.

Everyone else was far too interested in their conversation and their plates to spot anything. He leaned over slightly to whisper by her ear. “You know they love you to pieces. It’s going to be just fine, Katybug.”

His use of her nickname made her lips twitch. But even more importantly, to his delight she snuck her hand over his, linking their fingers together and squeezing tightly in response.

The sudden silence alerted him. All attention had turned their direction. Food and drink forgotten as five sets of dark eyes bore into him and Katy.

“You two got something on your mind over there?” Clay’s question buzzed angrily in Gage’s ears.

It was rather amazing how much disapproval could be put into such simple words.

Katy took a deep breath, but before she could speak Gage decided what the hell. He’d sooner be skinned for the whole disaster, no matter what she’d said before.

“Not a secret,” Gage announced. “We’re dating.”

Other than her quick gasp of shock, there was no response to his comment. Not for a full five seconds. Then an uproar of noise hit from all sides.

“The hell?”

“Since when?”

“Are you serious?”

Over all the questions and cussing lay a deep, heavy rumble, starting low then increasing in volume until Mr. Thompson’s laugh broke through. He waved his sons off.

“Calm yourself, boys. You really surprised by this?” He clicked his tongue. “Never thought I’d raised a pack of dullards. I saw this coming from a mile away.”

Katy gave Gage a dirty look before facing her father. “What’s that mean?”

The older man shrugged. “Means I’d seen you two making calf eyes at each other when you thought no one was looking. About time you came to your senses.”

Clay stumbled to vertical, glaring daggers at Gage. “Bullshit. You can’t be dating Katy.”

Gage stood to meet him eye to eye across the table. “Not your decision.”

“She’s still recovering from the accident. She doesn’t need to get involved with anyone.”

A stream of very creative swearing burst free from a most unexpected source. Gage waited cautiously until Clay looked away before also turning toward Katy.

She’d stood as well, her much shorter status very clear as everyone loomed over her from where they’d all risen to their feet around the table. The vile language spewing from her mouth stuttered to a stop as she whipped out her finger and stuck it in her oldest brother’s face.

“The accident happened two months ago. I. Bumped. My. Head. That’s it. I didn’t have a lobotomy or revert to childhood. I’ve had enough of you wrapping me in cotton and refusing to let me do anything on my own. Yes, I have gaps in my memory, and yes, dealing with that is a pain in the ass. But you, Clay”—she glared around the table to take in all her brothers—“
all
of you, are even bigger pains. I did not break my brain, or my body. My sex drive did not vanish out the broken window, and I will not allow you, or anyone else, decide what will or won’t happen in my life.”

Gage wasn’t sure the mention of sex was the wisest idea as eyes narrowed further, and fists were clenched. Only he couldn’t worry about that because she’d spun her fury toward him.

“And you! You’re the biggest pain of them all. I told you I wanted to do this myself. You agreed, and now you just leap in and do exactly the opposite of what I asked for? Damn you.” Katy stepped back from the table, her eyes full of fire as she planted her feet wide and crossed her arms. “Gage and I are
not
going out,” she stated clearly.

Oh, shit. She was more upset by his taking control than he’d expected. He reached for her, but she twisted from his grasp.

“Forget it, Gage. We might be seeing more of each other in the future if you get your head out of your ass, but the only reason will be because you might be the father of my baby.”


What?

The question exploded from five male throats at the same moment.

Katy lifted her chin, cheeks red, her chest heaving. “Yes. I’m pregnant. No, I’m not sure who the father is, although Gage insists he could be. It’s either him or Simon, and that’s all I’m going to say about this tonight because I’m sick of all of you. Good night.”

She twirled on her heel and stomped from the room, the door slamming shut after her. Gage wavered between running after her and staying to explain to the guys.

He never saw it coming. The fist that connected with his jaw made stars burst before his eyes, and he stumbled backward before landing on the floor, five very angry faces staring down at him.

“Shall we bury him alive in the back forty?” Mitch asked, wiggling his fingers to shake out the blow he’d delivered.

“Hang him in the garage. We can use the welder’s torch and skin him first.”

Gage shoved aside the anger inside that wanted to flare like a torch. “Let me explain, dammit.”

Clay dragged a hand over his head then gestured his brothers aside. He extended his hand to Gage.

Gage eyed it with distrust.

His friend snorted. “Look, you surprised us all, but I’m not going to beat you any further, and neither will the others.”

“Speak for yourself,” Len drawled. “What the hell is going on, Gage?”

“Boys, let him up.” Keith Thompson pushed through his sons to cast an unreadable stare upon Gage.

Gage accepted his friend’s help and was dragged to his feet. His hand rose instinctively to his face to cup his stinging jaw. “I can explain.”

He gave the best short version he could. All the while their disapproval weighed down on him.

“Dammit, Gage.” Clay paced away. “And now you’ve gone and put her back up. Idiot.”

“Thanks for telling me something I didn’t know.”

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