“What’s wrong?” he asked, and she shook her head and reached for her sandwich again.
“Nothing. I guess I just never thought of you being, what do you call it, in the field? On a regular basis.”
He finished his sandwich and rose, taking his plate to the dishwasher. “I’m thirty-seven, Charlie. Not ready to be shut up in an office all day yet. Not sure if I ever will.”
“Does anyone ever get hurt on the job?”
He shut the dishwasher door and turned to face her. “Our job is to keep people safe. Including us.”
“But still, the potential is there.”
“Well, I could step outside tomorrow and get hit by a bus.”
She’d heard that kind of logic before, but it didn’t make sense. That was an accident. That wasn’t deliberately putting oneself in harm’s way. He was going to be her baby’s father. What if something happened to him? She’d had her father until her midtwenties, and even then, losing him had been horrible. But she couldn’t imagine growing up without his presence. With that gaping hole in her life at such a crucial time. She’d lost her father. The idea of losing the father to her child was devastating—whether or not they were together.
It was turning out that the very thing that had brought them together—his vocation—was the thing that scared her most about their future as co-parents.
She pushed away the rest of the sandwich. Not just co-parents, not that she’d say that out loud to him. She cared for him so much. Still remembered how it felt to be held in his arms in the dark. The way he kissed her as if she was the most cherished thing in the world. She couldn’t bear thinking of a world without him in it.
He came back to the table and pulled out a chair, then sat close to her. “Look,” he said softly, putting his hand on her leg. “I’m always careful. I’m going to be around for a long time. Trust me.”
But trust wasn’t something that came easy to her. Not after years of either being left or being used. And it was impossible to trust something that was largely out of his control.
Nothing had changed—their lives were too different. She had to find a way to resolve her feelings, didn’t she? Let go of any romantic notions and, like she said earlier, be a team.
“I’m tired. I think I should head back to my hotel.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay here? I’ve got lots of room.”
Staying under the same roof tonight wouldn’t be good. She’d get ideas and feelings and she wasn’t sure how good her willpower was where he was involved. “I think the hotel is best. But I’m glad we talked.”
“Me, too. I still need to wrap my head around the news, but I’d like to meet again before you return to Paris.”
“I’d planned to stay a few more days and then weekend at the manor house.” The thought of floating around the huge house for three days made her lonesome. “Why don’t you come with me? There’s tons of privacy there. It’ll give you a few days to think about things and then maybe we can make some sort of plan.”
The more she thought about it, the more the idea had merit. It was unrealistic to think that they’d come up with any sort of resolution in a few hours, when he’d barely had time to absorb the news. She’d had a few weeks now to get her footing.
“Chatsworth Manor, you mean.”
“I do. It’s beautiful right now, with everything newly green and blooming. Do you ride? We could go ’round the grounds—”
“One, no I don’t ride. And two, are you sure you should, being pregnant?”
She refused to let him bring down her mood. She needed...to go home. That was the manor house to her. The place she’d done most of her growing up, where most of her memories were. The chateau was for holidays and summer, but the manor... That was where she felt most safe and secure, things she needed in her life right now.
“Walks in the garden, then. I think we need this, Jacob. To sort through it all.”
He paused, watching her for a long time. She wished she was better at reading his mind, but expected shuttering away was a talent he’d perfected years ago. Finally he agreed. ?
??All right. I’ll go. Let me know where to pick you up and we can drive down together.”
“I’ll text you everything.” She got up from the table and went to him. “I’m sorry, you know. This isn’t what either of us planned. But we’ll deal with it okay, right?”
“Of course we will.”
She called a taxi and then he walked her downstairs and outside, into the cool spring night. In less than a minute, the black cab rolled up to the curb.
“You’ll text?”