Chapter Three
Jason pushed off the sofa so fast Ashley thought he would run the moment he gained his feet. But he only stood staring at her, the emotions in his face baffling. The shock she understood. But the flicker of sorrow didn’t make sense.
He strode across the inn’s parlor, restless as he’d been at her house. Beth Henley, the inn’s owner, had filled the small room with an eclectic mix of thrif3t shop and antique furniture, so there wasn’t much clearance for pacing. Six feet out, six feet back, Jason threatened to wear out the old-fashioned rag rug.
“You’re sure?” he asked.
“Of course. The doctor detected the second heartbeat at eight weeks.”
“And they’re both fine?” He flexed his hands as he stood over her.
“They’re perfect.”
“Do you know…”
“From the ultrasound, it looks like a boy and a girl.”
His eyes shut a moment. “Not identical, then.”
“No.” She wondered why that seemed significant to him.
He resumed his trek back and forth across the rug. “That decides it, then. You’re coming to San José.”
If her feet weren’t throbbing and her energy level near zero, she would have jumped up and throttled him. “I’m staying here, Jason. I already told you that.”
“You need to be under a physician’s care.”
“I’ve been seeing Dr. Karpoor right in town.”
“But if anything went wrong—”
“The hospital is twenty minutes away. They can life-flight me to Sacramento if necessary. I’ve got it covered.”
He seemed to stuff away his agitation, his face smoothing to neutrality. “We’ll discuss it later. When you’re not so tired.”
She would have told him there was nothing more to discuss, but her weariness had her at a disadvantage. “I’d better get back.” She pushed against the sofa’s stiff cushions.
He closed his hand around her elbow and eased her up. “I’ll take you home.”
The warmth of his hand drifted up her arm, tempting her to lean into him. “I have my own car.”
“You’re worn out. You shouldn’t be driving.”
She shook off his hand, not liking how vulnerable she was to his touch. “I’ll be fine. It’s only a few miles.”
He was ready to push the issue; she saw him mustering his arguments. He’d been on the debate team as an undergrad at Stanford. She imagined he’d been a ruthless competitor.
“Call me when you get home. Did you save my number?”
“Not yet.”
“I’ll do it.”
He put out an imperious hand. She would have walked away, but he’d come after her. Far easier to just hand the cell over to him.
With characteristic focus, he tapped the appropriate keys on the phone, then gave it back to her. “I set up a speed dial. Just press five.”
He walked her out to her car, opening the door for her and taking her hand to help her swing her bulky body inside. He didn’t let go, bending down to eye level.
He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “I can’t let anything happen to them.”
“Of course not.”
“Tell me you’ll be careful.” His gaze drilled into her.
“I will. Of course.”
He stared at her a moment more, then backed away, shutting the car door. He stepped up onto the sidewalk in front of the inn, but he waited while she started the VW and backed it out of the parking slot. She caught a glimpse of him still standing on the sidewalk in her rearview mirror just before she turned off Main Street.
He was a man with so many sharp edges, she didn’t know how she would tolerate him over the next couple of days. She’d been bossed by her sister, Sara, for years, but she’d accepted that because Sara supported them both and had to make the decisions. But Sara had gladly snipped the apron strings years ago and rarely played the big-sister card anymore. Jason’s orders rankled her.
But it was only for the weekend. Then he’d return to San José and likely their contact with each other would be limited. They’d probably have to make some kind of custody arrangement once the babies were born—a prospect that filled her with anxiety—but surely he wouldn’t want the day-to-day responsibility of raising children. It made more sense for the babies to live here. He could visit them whenever he wanted. She doubted that would be often.
As she pulled into the gate of the NJN ranch, her heart ached at the thought. While she was growing up, she would have given anything for a real father—a good man, a kind and decent man who would come watch her soccer games and school plays. Her classmates would moan and groan about their dads, how restrictive they were, how they wouldn’t let them do anything. Those same girls would be dragging their dads around on back-to-school night, showing off their artwork and science projects.
Unlocking the front door, Ashley stepped inside the quiet, empty space. She loved the little house, its tidy efficiency, its quirky lines. She’d felt comfortable here the moment she’d arrived three months ago.
But as she slipped off her sandals and padded toward her bedroom in the back, an aching loneliness washed over her. Before Jason arrived, she’d been happy in her solitary life, willing to accept motherhood on her own with the assistance of her sister and friends she’d made in Hart Valley. But Jason seemed to represent possibilities she’d made an effort to block from her mind—an intact family, a complete home.
She couldn’t let herself think about it even now. Because Jason would be gone soon, back to his own world. He’d likely try to force financial support on her, would no doubt set up trust funds for the twins. He would offer her nothing emotionally. He didn’t seem to have the capacity for it.
Pulling on a short frilly nightgown her sister had given her, Ashley climbed between the pale-pink sheets of her double bed. She’d had to give up the queen-size bed when she gave up the larger room to the babies. She didn’t need the bigger mattress anyway, living alone.
As she lay there, eyes closed, she tried to imagine Jason in the bed beside her. His serious face as he gazed down at her, stroking her cheek, pressing a kiss on her lips. His hand resting on her belly, waiting for the twins to kick. His arms cradling her all night long.
But that man didn’t really exist. Jason was only a few miles away in Hart Valley, but the real core of him might as well be in a different universe. He’d no more hold her to ease her loneliness than he would give away his millions and become a monk.
One night she’d seen more, she’d delved deeper into his soul. As much as she might want to tell herself it was only lust the night they’d made love, there had been a moment, just before passion overwhelmed him, when all the barriers had come down. It had been only an instant, then the walls had slammed into place again.
And that barricade would never fall again.
What the hell was wrong with him?
He’d tossed and turned half the night entertaining entirely inappropriate fantasies of Ashley before falling into restless sleep riddled with X-rated dreams. Now he sat beside her in his Mercedes obsessing over how her bare, freckled shoulders would feel under his fingers. As bad as the distraction of her soft skin was, her scent, like cinnamon-spiced flowers, completely obliterated his focus.
Oblivious to the irrationality