Книга Stand-In Mom - читать онлайн бесплатно, автор Megan Kelly. Cтраница 3
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Stand-In Mom
Stand-In Mom
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Stand-In Mom

Lisa’s face creased into a frown. “Can they do that? I mean, I’m a mom and I have to worry about money and sitters.”

“I don’t know what they’re allowed to do and how much of the flak I’m getting is just this woman disliking me for some reason. When you give birth, you don’t have to jump through hoops to earn the right to be a mother.” She gulped a breath. “I don’t want to rock the boat, just in case she’s playing by the book. It’s better I lie low and cooperate.”

“Help is available,” Lisa said. “Dylan’s mom would make a spot for your baby at the day care she owns. The baby would be safe and cared for during the day.”

“I don’t like the idea of sending a newborn to day care, even one as reputable as the Wee Care.” But she’d have to. She couldn’t afford to quit her job or take a couple years’ leave of absence, which would be the same as quitting. She couldn’t expect the school district to hold her job. Her current financial situation would only allow her to stay home during the summers.

“The adoption agency is very concerned about backup. What happens when I have a meeting at school or something comes up? You know how I’m always being assigned to some committee.” She blew out a breath. “The witch at the agency was all over me about my lack of support. I don’t have any family here now that Mom moved. Obviously no husband. From the drilling I endured, you’d think single people never adopt kids. Why am I different?”

Ginger studied her hands before she spoke the words that plagued her. “Do you think she can sense I’d be a bad mother?”

“That’s ridiculous. You’ll be fantastic. You shouldn’t stand for that kind of treatment. You need to talk to someone else at that agency. Or go somewhere else.” Lisa frowned. “There are other adoption agencies in Kansas City, right?”

Ginger nodded. “I might try that. Ms. Booker seems dead-set against me for some reason.”

“As for help on a moment’s notice—when you’re not bringing the baby to Aunt Lisa, that is—Dylan’s brother has eight kids and a list of babysitters when you need someone reliable.” Lisa’s gaze flew to hers. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned Adam and Anne’s family.”

“I’m happy for them.” Other people having kids didn’t bother her, even them having eight children. Seeing pregnant women sometimes made her tear up, and envy ate acidy holes in her stomach, but she didn’t begrudge anyone the kind of happiness she longed for. “It’s not as though I think they got my share of kids.”

When Ginger met her, Anne Ross had been near to bursting with child number eight, a beautiful girl they’d named Penelope. Dylan, the proud uncle, had brought a picture to Lisa and Joe’s when Ginger had been at the same picnic. He didn’t know of her condition, and she’d begged Lisa and Joe to keep it between them.

It was bad enough Ginger’s own husband had found her defective. She didn’t need the whole town gossiping about it.

Just imagining the pity she’d receive made her blanch.

“So, this Scott guy,” Lisa started, “what’s he really like?”

“Are you asking as the wife of his boss or as my nosy, pushy friend?”

Lisa chuckled and washed her hands at the sink. “Both.” “He’s extremely nice. Well-mannered and polite.” “Uh-huh. That was for the boss’s wife. Now spill.” Ginger grinned. “He’s incredible in bed. Very giving, if you know what I mean. Strong, hot body, tanned all over, except for his swimsuit lines.” She closed her eyes as she recalled tracing those borders and what lay between.

Lisa giggled. “Wait. Maybe I shouldn’t hear this. I’ll probably have to see him at some function, and I won’t be able to block out this image.”

“Sweetie, you don’t know what you’re missing.” But Ginger was relieved not to have to think about Scott and how amazing the sex had been. Because remembering made it feel like more than sex, and it wasn’t. Couldn’t be.

“When do you plan to see him again?”

Ginger swallowed and tried to keep her expression calm. “What’s the point? You can’t improve on perfection.”

“But if being with him was perfect, why not have seconds?”

Ginger lifted her lips in an artificial smile, hoping Lisa couldn’t tell she’d clenched her teeth. Her friend insisted not every man would care about Ginger’s barrenness, and most men would be open to adopting if that were their only option to build a family.

Ginger didn’t believe it. She’d had a man, one who’d already committed his life to her. That man, with love in his heart, had found her lacking. What chance did she have making a stranger want her once she told him?

“Perfect,” she said, “is an illusion. The more you try to repeat it, the more you notice flaws.”

She couldn’t risk seeing Scott because she wanted to so badly. He’d gotten to her, touched her in secret places that had nothing to do with sex. When he’d said he didn’t want to hurt her, he’d meant by pulling her hair removing her barrette. But Ginger sensed he could seriously break her heart. And she just couldn’t risk that happening again.

THE NEW YEAR TURNED AND SCOTT still hadn’t called Ginger. He fingered the hotel notepaper in his pocket while he waited to meet his daughter’s second-grade teacher. The principal reminded him more of a used car salesman than an educator, and he’d already snagged Scott to serve on a committee. Scott knew his daughter wouldn’t be sent to the principal’s office, though.

Shelby was a good kid, saving her smart-aleck remarks for him. Testing him, his mother-in-law assured Scott. Apparently, Shelby had been angelic when she and Serena stayed with their grandparents while he’d been here getting the house ready. Shelby could test him all she wanted; he’d always be there for her. Even without a psychology degree, he knew Shelby feared he’d leave her and her sister. Acting out and pushing the boundaries made her a normal kid, considering all she and Serena had endured.

How could he put them through anything as traumatic as seeing him with another woman?

He’d carried the paper with Ginger’s phone number every day, worried he’d lose it. The crinkle and stiffness in his pocket the first days reminded him of their time together. But he’d been in Georgia then, retrieving his daughters from their grandparents’ house and enduring everyone’s tears. Now the paper had worn smooth, and its weight in his pocket wasn’t so much physical as mental. Guilt sometimes made him consider throwing away Ginger’s number, but he hadn’t. Nor had he called. He couldn’t bring himself to do either thing.

The office door opened and he rose, turning to meet the new teacher, who stumbled to a halt, hand on the doorknob, eyes wide and apricot hair secured in a ponytail.

His breath caught in his chest as his heart thudded. Hell of a way to find out his lover’s last name.

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