A Mother's Secrets (Parent Portal 4)

As was sitting in the most luxurious SUV she’d ever been in. But that Wednesday evening, he’d invited her to a musical being put on at the university in Mission Viejo. A couple of his students were working sound, another was a dancer, and Jamie was friends with the choral director—a man almost as old as Tom Sanders.

They’d eaten in the car on the way in—the dinner she’d packed was all healthy finger foods—because she’d had a late-afternoon appointment already scheduled.

Jamie didn’t say a lot about the cucumber sandwiches and avocado deviled eggs, but he ate them until they were gone so she took that as a win. He talked almost the whole way—filling her in a little bit on each of his students who were involved because she might meet them. And talking about Daniel, the choral director’s, operatic singing career. As they were parking, he let her know that Daniel knew about the baby, as did the college president who employed him.

He’d failed to tell his students, apparently, or hadn’t found doing so appropriate, and she’d felt their eyes boring into her belly as they’d come in a group of three to say hi to Jamie in the vestibule after the show.

She’d just been getting used to the idea of accepting that strangers would naturally assume they were a couple and that the baby she was carrying belonged to both of them, not minding that they thought that, when he’d introduced her as his surrogate, and explained that she was carrying his and Emily’s baby.

Apparently they’d been in his life long enough to know about his deceased wife. As they were all three seniors, it made sense.

And after the play, her good mood slowly dissipated. For a bit there, she’d forgotten that she was only at the university so that the baby inside her could be exposed to the sounds. She’d forgotten she was working. She’d simply enjoyed the show, being with Jamie, hearing him laugh out loud.

She’d been in Mission Viejo so his baby could hear him laugh out loud.

Jamie kept up a string of conversation all the way home, too. Mostly about the play—an original, nonholiday tale about scientists and animals that was the culmination of a semester’s work. He’d told her about sound levels and how his students used mathematical skills in their artistic creations in Mission Viejo as well. And how the dancer, who had sprained an ankle a month before, had been afraid she wouldn’t be able to perform. There’d been more. She let it roll over her, hoping the baby inside her was paying attention to his voice.

And then she was waking up in her driveway, feeling as comfortable as if she’d been in her own bed.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to drop off on you,” she said. “I’ve been doing that lately...falling asleep anytime I’m sitting doing nothing.”

“So, what, it’s happened once?” he teased her.

His smile was illuminated by the streetlight in front of her house. She was as focused on the warmth those lips sent through her as she was on the fact that he’d turned off his SUV.

“I have something to talk to you about,” he said, staying on his side of the vehicle, looking straight ahead, though the way he said the words sounded really personal.

Her heart started to pound as anticipation thrummed through her. Inappropriate anticipation.

“If this is more about the future... I meant what I said, Jamie. We can’t...”

He was shaking his head.

“It’s about now,” he said. “I’d like permission to touch your stomach,” he told her. “I was reading about the fact that mothers can feel their babies from the outside as well as inside, and that babies sometimes move to the touch.”

She should have offered. She knew this stuff.

“Of course you can feel it, Jamie!” Loosening her seat belt, she let it slide back into its holster. “I’m sorry I made you ask.” Push

ing up the console between them, she moved over slightly and offered him access to her protruding belly, covered by the dress yoga pants and black, red, yellow, blue and white floral, formfitting tunic she’d put on because she’d thought they were festive.

Offering a new daddy the chance to bond with his baby.

She was not—absolutely not—wanting the feel of Jamie’s warm hand spread across her stomach. And if she was, then she would make the wanting stop.

She had to make it stop.

Because when those fingers lightly brushed against her top and then settled with confidence on top of her belly, her entire lower body melted.

Chapter Eighteen

She wasn’t huge yet, but he’d been able to reach her baby bump easily.

From there, Jamie just froze. He’d read that if he moved his fingers, applied a very slight pressure, he might be able to distinguish parts of the baby. And might also be able to convince him to move. Chances of that were better as the pregnancy progressed.

He was struggling to separate Christine’s stomach from the baby inside her. He’d feared his reaction from the moment he’d known he needed to bond with his son in this way. He trusted his ability to be a great father.

What he didn’t trust was his libido. Not where this woman was concerned.