Unexpected Complication (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 8

  “He won’t.” She said it with conviction, especially after the conversation she’d just had with Jerod. “What would he do with a baby?”

  “I’d rather not find out,” Devin said a little more calmly. “What’d he want?”

  “Nothing important.” She wasn’t about to tell Devin he’d practically begged her to end the pregnancy. Jerod was doing everything he could to get rid of what he considered a problem.

  “Let’s get this over with.” She attached the wide angle to the digital camera, which had cost as much as several months of car payments, then swung the strap over her neck.

  “Start with the other pictures,” Devin said. “I’m not in the mood to smile.”

  She wasn’t particularly, either. She wished Devin would shut up about Jerod and Jerod would leave her alone. It was her business, dammit. Her business alone.

  THAT EVENING, Devin drove out to Gramps’s house, which was an hour away in the middle of seemingly endless cornfields. The farmhouse had always been a refuge when he was growing up, but tonight, he couldn’t help feeling a little resentful. He had an early appointment tomorrow with a potential client, and he’d be up half the night finishing preparations. All because Gramps thought Devin was neglecting him.

  At twenty after six, they sat on opposite sides of a shabby, vinyl booth at the Finer Diner. It was the only restaurant in the unincorporated burg closest to Gramps. Surprisingly, the place served better-than-average home-style food. Not long ago, Devin and Gramps had been regulars.

  The old place had been open for as long as Devin could remember, though it had changed names several times over the years. None of the new owners had ever redecorated that he knew of.

  Booths lined each side of the small dining room, and a long scarred counter stretched across the back, butting up to the kitchen. Four more tables were scattered in the middle of the room. None of the upholstery matched—some seats were a faded pink, others were slate-blue, apple-green and mustard-yellow. The white floor was vinyl and Devin would bet it was as old as the building, judging by the cracks and missing tiles.

  The walls were mostly windows, so anyone walking down the main drag could easily check out the diners inside. Tonight, there were only two other occupied tables. Devin and his grandpa had chosen the one farthest from the street, near the kitchen.

  After finishing his country-fried steak, mashed potatoes and green beans, Devin shoved his plate away and stuck his wadded-up napkin on top. He’d bided his time, waiting to bring up the subject that’d eaten at him all week. Finally, two more families walked in, and the noise level was such that they could talk without the cook overhearing every word Devin said.

  “I’m sorry you feel like I’ve been neglecting you lately.”

  Gramps met his eyes for a beat. “Business can be tough to put aside.”

  “That’s just it. I don’t want to put it aside. I can’t put it aside.”

  The old man chewed on a hunk of meat for what seemed like forever. He nodded once, acknowledging the claim, and Devin watched the food slide down his bony throat. Gramps wiped his mouth with his napkin. “A few evenings off now and then won’t kill you or the company.”

  “You’re supposed to be the guy who understands. Has it been so long since you were in business you don’t remember what it’s like?”

  Gramps had jabbed another bite of meat, but he put his fork down without eating it and looked directly at Devin. “I remember all too well, son.”

  Devin sighed in frustration. Gramps had been his supporter, his cheerleader, from the moment Devin’s idea for CMT had germinated. It’d been after his parents’ accident, a few weeks after their will had been settled. A time so painful, yet also eye-opening to Devin.

  Of course his parents had favored Jerod in their will, leaving him their stakes in the television station and most of their money. Just as he’d always known—they had no faith in him, their good-for-nothing son.

  After weeks of consuming anger, Devin had had a life-changing realization. His parents had been right. He’d had no ambitions for his future. Resentful and rebellious, he’d refused to go to college, taking dead-end jobs to drive his parents over the edge. But he’d been screwing himself instead of them.

  He’d been sure about one thing—he wanted to make his living in computers, the very thing his parents had said he’d been wasting his life on. Devin had used his inheritance to enroll in college, getting an undergraduate degree as well as an MBA in five years.

  And now Gramps seemed to be saying that everything he’d been working so hard for meant very little.

  “What’s going on? You know how important this is to me. Why are you giving me this guilt trip now, just as I’m getting started?”

  Gramps shoved his half-eaten plate of food toward the middle of the table and wiped his mouth with his napkin. He paused, gazing off at nothing. “Sometimes over the years, old people learn a few things here and there.”

  Devin sat back impatiently, ready for Gramps to get to the point.

  “The thing I learned was that work isn’t everything.”

  “For me, right now, it is.”

  “I know you think that.”

  “Damn right, I do. What the hell else do I have?”

  “You’re young, Devin. Bright. Ambitious. That’s all good. But you still need to figure out the importance of people. Without people, the job won’t mean a damn thing in the long run.”

  “I know people are important. Or at least you are. Don’t give much of a damn for most of the rest of them.” Carey’s face flashed through his mind but he pushed the image aside.

  “I’d hoped you’d be wiser than I was. But I’ve watched for five years. The closer you got to graduating, the more single-minded you became. In the six months since you started CMT, I’ve seen you less and less. If I thought it was just me you were shutting out, I wouldn’t worry so much.”

  “No need to worry.”

  His grandpa ignored him. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my lifetime. Putting my job ahead of the people who were important to me was the biggest.”

  Devin shook his head. It was ridiculous that Gramps considered himself a failure where his family was concerned. He was the single person who had actually acted like family to Devin. “I have a hard time believing that.”

  The lone waitress whizzed by and dropped off the bill and the toothpick Gramps always insisted on. She remembered how to get a good tip. A toothpick and a butterscotch candy for the old guy.

  A shadow of emotion darkened Gramps’s eyes. He stuck the end of the toothpick into his mouth and rolled it to the side so he could speak. “Did you ever stop to think maybe it was your parents instead of you? That they were the ones with a problem?”

  “I know they had problems.”

  “Then why are you so bound and determined to prove them wrong?”

  Devin shrugged. He didn’t understand what his parents had to do with anything. “It motivates me.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with motivation, but you’re getting tunnel vision. Slow down a bit. If it takes you a year and a half instead of a year to show a profit, what’s the difference?”

  “Six months.”

  Gramps chuckled, which rubbed Devin the wrong way.

  “Look, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me more than you know. But I have my reasons for the aggressive goals I set. It’s my company. My life, for that matter.”

  “Sit back and take some advice for once, would you?” Gramps voice was too loud and Devin looked around to see who was paying attention. The people at the two closest tables turned away when he made eye contact with them.

  “Say what you want to say,” Devin said firmly but quietly.

  Gramps switched the toothpick to the other side of his mouth, then pulled it out and threw it on his plate. He leaned forward, his jaw working. “What I want to say isn’t easy. It’s not something I’ve ever talked about.”

  Devin leaned forward, intrigued in spite of himself.
Gramps was so serious, almost morose.

  “I told you I screwed up a bunch. You may not believe me but there’s proof.”

  “Such as?”

  “My children. Specifically, my daughters. Somehow, I didn’t do as badly with Jonathon.” Jonathon was Devin’s uncle, his mother’s oldest sibling, who lived in Louisiana. “But look at your mom. She died not knowing a damn thing about how important a family should be. I don’t know if she realized how much I loved her. And I know you don’t have a clue how much she loved you—”

  “If that was love, I’d hate to see apathy.”

  Gramps continued as if Devin hadn’t spoken. “She never grasped that people are what make our lives worthwhile. Not jobs or anything else.”

  “I suppose not.”

  “Why do you think she was that way? What the hell screwed her up so bad she couldn’t see something that should be obvious?”

  “Ambition?”

  “To hell with ambition. Someone had to teach her that ambition was so blasted important in the first place.”

  Devin absently dragged the plain glass saltshaker closer and turned it slowly in his hands. He had no idea where Gramps was going with this.

  “We learn from example, son. From our family. She learned all that from yours truly.”

  Devin met his grandpa’s eyes now and saw more than concern in them. Guilt. Regret.

  “And your aunt Linda. Where the hell is she? She didn’t even have the guts to stick around for her family when things got tough. Think she read that in a book somewhere?” He shook his head. “You get things from your parents, even when they don’t mean to teach you.”

  Linda was Jerod’s mom, and Devin couldn’t argue she’d been a mess. No one had seen or heard from her since she’d walked out years and years ago.

  “But I don’t have kids. I’m not going to have kids. There’s no one for me to screw up.”

  “Just yourself.” Gramps stared pointedly at Devin. “You’re not getting all of what I’m saying.”

  “So say it.”

  “Regret sucks, as you kids would say. That took me sixty-some years to figure out. When I retired, my career was history, and what did I have? Not too damn much. Money, sure. But the people were missing because I’d been missing from their lives for all those years.

  “My wife had learned to live without me. My kids had not only started their own adult lives, they’d learned it all wrong from me. You’ll notice they didn’t make haste to come visit their mother and me. It took me a couple years of twiddling my thumbs and feeling sorry for myself before I realized it was my fault.”

  Devin lost the urge to fight as he watched his grandfather. The twinkle so often in Gramps’s eyes had disappeared.

  “Even if you don’t have kids one day, you’ll be much more content with yourself if you give everything you’ve got to your relationships.”

  “That’s a hell of a lot to say to get me to come out for dinner more often.” Devin’s attempt at levity fell flat.

  “I’m just a small part of it, Devin.” Gramps raised his shaggy white brows. “I want you to have a fulfilling life. Take your grandpa out for dinner. Make peace with your cousin. Find yourself a girl and settle down. You’ll be much happier in the end.”

  The plea in Gramps’s eyes struck Devin with the force of a two-by-four to the head. There was no way Devin could pretend to miss the message. It was as good as an order.

  The first suggestion he might be able to handle. The other two, not a chance in hell.

  “I’ll give it some thought,” he said noncommittally.

  Gramps nodded. “See that you do.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  CAREY PARKED halfway up her driveway, hopped out and unloaded the trunk. By the time she got to the side door, she realized she’d left her keys in the ignition.

  As she swore to herself, the door to the house whipped open from the inside and she nearly stumbled backward in surprise.

  “Trent Langford, I’m going to kill you!” She thought her face might split in half from her huge grin. Very carefully, she set the grocery bags on the kitchen table, then ran into her brother’s arms. They held on to each other for several seconds. “You almost scared the pee out of me!”

  He beamed at her. “Look at you,” he said, shaking his head. “Sight for sore eyes.”

  She could say the same. She took in the details of his appearance, not quite able to believe she was seeing him in the flesh. His dark hair was a good two or three inches longer than usual, shagging down into his eyes and hanging well past the collar of his worn plaid flannel shirt in back. Shadows rimmed his blue eyes, as if he hadn’t slept for a week. She couldn’t help hugging him again.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “Such a warm welcome back to my own house.” He dropped his arms and stepped back to get a better look at her. “I just came home for a while.”

  She eyed him warily. Home had never been a huge consideration for either of them. They both preferred to roam the country, find adventure while making just enough money to support the habit. “I can’t believe you’re here. Are you home for good, Wilderness Man?”

  “I’m home for now,” he said. “Get in here and talk to me. What’s with all the crap in the bags?” He gestured toward the paper sacks on the table.

  “It’s called groceries. Long overdue.”

  He pulled her toward the living room, but Carey’s stomach had a different idea. “I need to eat first. You hungry?”

  “I could eat,” he said. “As long as you’re not cooking.” She stuck her tongue out at him.

  “For your information, I start a cooking class next week.” She’d decided that learning to cook would be more economical than eating out every night for the rest of her life, especially once she was paying for two.

  Trent looked at her in disbelief as he sat at the kitchen table. “Now I need a beer.”

  She laughed. “Sorry. I didn’t buy any.”

  He stared at her. “Let me get this straight. You’re learning how to cook and you’re out of beer. That’s scary as hell. And believe me, it takes a lot to scare a wilderness man.”

  Carey smiled as she started unloading, setting a couple of TV dinners on the counter.

  If he thought those were major changes, wait till he knew the pregnant part of the story.

  She didn’t relish telling him that nugget of news. There was no doubt in her mind he wouldn’t be happy about the prospect of becoming an uncle. No matter how well-meaning he was, Trent was old-fashioned. Not to mention as overprotective of his little sister as a mama bear. It was sure to be an ugly scene.

  She poured him a tall glass of lemonade from the carton she’d just bought. “So you finally got tired of the great outdoors, huh?”

  “Just needed a break.” He took a long drink, avoiding her eyes. “I’ll pay you for half of the groceries.”

  So he would be here for a while—at least long enough to share a grocery bill. She waited for him to say more, but he didn’t.

  “What’d you need a break from? The nasty smell of salmon?” She put one of the dinners into the microwave and started it.

  “Nah, the fishing was perfect.”

  She noticed he still hadn’t answered her question and decided she’d pry later. Let him get his bearings first. She wanted to hold on to her secret for a while longer; let him keep his. If he had one.

  He caught sight of the book on running a business Carey had left on the table. “What’s this?” he asked, picking it up.

  She could say it was Devin’s. He and Monica were the only ones who knew of her plans so far, and it still made her squirm to put herself out there by announcing her ambitious intentions. No, she was being foolish. Trent would get behind her idea.

  Carey leaned against the counter and crossed her legs at the ankles while the TV dinner cooked, trying to come across as nonchalant. “I’m starting my own business.”

  “You’re what?” Trent set his glass down h
ard. “What kind of business?”

  “Photography, of course. What else would I do?”

  He watched her pointedly. “What’s going on with you? Seems like that’s a pretty big change. It’ll tie you down, and I’ve never known you to like being tied down.”

  She couldn’t tell him that’s exactly what she needed. Couldn’t explain that a baby wouldn’t fit in on a cross-country photo assignment. “I know what I’m getting into. I’m ready for it. I’ll still freelance, too.”

  Trent stared at her as if she’d gone off the deep end. Carey almost laughed, but she knew how it must look to him—as if an alien had possessed her. The intense scrutiny made her feel jumpy.

  She prayed he didn’t notice the changes in her body, which Monica had assured her were invisible to everyone else.

  “Trust me, Trent. It’s something I want to do.”

  “What kind of photography business are we talking?”

  “I’ll start with weddings until I can figure out what to do about a studio. I’d like to do both eventually, but I can’t afford to rent a place yet.”

  “You’ve really thought this out?”

  She smiled, unable to contain her enthusiasm. “Yep. I’m just getting organized, but Devin’s going to help me with the business end of it.”

  Trent frowned. “What does he know about it?”

  “He just started his own company. CMT Computer Security.”

  Trent sat back and crossed his legs. He stretched his arms behind his head. “You trust Colyer with your business, Carey?”

  So much for avoiding sensitive topics. “Of course I do.”

  The microwave beeped, and she was relieved for the distraction. She shouldn’t have brought up Devin’s name. He and Trent had never gotten along.

  “Let’s not argue about Devin today. I want to hear all about your life in Alaska. Spill it.”

  She placed the cardboard platter of food in front of him and sat down in the chair next to his. Her appetite had disappeared, probably because she wasn’t telling him her biggest news. She’d have to break it to him sometime, and soon. But not today.