The Lover’s Secret (No Exceptions #1)(24)
Author: J.C. Reed

If he’d just go down on one knee and ask, with a ring in his hand or not—I sure wouldn’t mind as long as he just asked—he’d be more than perfect. He’d be a dream come true, because nothing sucked more than being untied and raising a child alone, all while being deep in a financial pothole.

“Things will change, Sylvie,” I assured her in the most serious and convincing tone I could muster. “If it doesn’t work out with Kenny, someday, somewhere, someone will come knocking on your door and blow you away.”

“Hopefully sooner rather than later, while I still look young and I can get them young. There’s no way I want to be an old cougar,” Sylvie said, trying her best to infuse some humor into the situation. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay. As I’ve always been. I just need to go on a few more dates.”

“I’m not saying you should give up on Kenny yet.”

“I wasn’t planning to.” She smiled, tilting her head. “But I’m also not giving up my partying ways. If he isn’t here most of the time, and can’t be bothered to call, I’m not wasting my time waiting for Prince I-Can’t-Care. I’m keeping my options open. So, for the time being, he might just have to share me with others.” She touched my arm lightly, and her chirpy voice began to reflect her worry.

“Brooke, I totally get your fear with Jett. But it will be Thanksgiving soon, and your mom still doesn’t know about him. She doesn’t even know that you’re pregnant, for that matter. Maybe you should stop thinking about marriage and instead start worrying about how to tell her. You can’t avoid her for the rest of your life, you know.”

Oh crap. Mom.

Double-crap.

Think of all the explanations and endless interrogations I would have to endure.

Obviously, I hadn’t forgotten to tell my mom about Jett and the pregnancy. I had just pretended to myself I could pull it off, that there would be plenty of time later. Simply put, I had been postponing the inevitable.

My temples began to throb. I hated being questioned, and in this instance my mother wasn’t so different from Sylvie, maybe even a little worse. The questions would start at as soon as my mother realized I had found a new job and inherited an Italian estate, which had been the home of a kinky sex club. Then she would go on about me dating my boss, who just so happened to be the father of my unborn child.

Try to explain that to someone who insisted you had to drown in endless motherly love. Someone once said that a mother’s love is unconditional. I wasn’t so sure that applied to my mom, but the point was: too many incredible things had happened—incredible as in over the top or impossible to believe—and I had no idea where to start.

First, like any mother, she’d worry about my mental well-being, and suggest that I move back in with her. Second, she would ask so many questions that I’d end up having a headache for the rest of the year. And third, she’d judge the fact that Jett and I weren’t married and yet we were having a baby.

“I won’t say anything to her if you don’t,” Sylvie said conspiratorially, “but surely you realize the moment the baby’s born it might just be too late?” Now she was making fun of me. I grimaced but said nothing.

“Oh, for crying out loud.” Sylvie rolled her eyes in mock annoyance. “Just keep it simple, and tell her over the phone so you can hang up and blame it on a bad connection.”

“It’s not that easy.” I took another sip of my now lukewarm cappuccino and began to trace the edge of the cup with my fingertip. “It needs to be done in a public place, where she won’t dare throw a hissy fit. You know her. If she doesn’t like Jett, she’ll be upfront about it, and I can’t have her insulting him.”

I knew she would; after my father’s death, she lost all trust in the male population…and people in general.

“You mean like the one time she told me I’ve got no talent for karaoke?” Sylvie grinned.

“Yes, and I was mortified.” I cringed inwardly.

My mother had an honesty about her that could pierce even the sturdiest of all armors. Granted, Sylvie was a little tone-deaf, but no one had the right to tell her that. With Jett, it’d probably be a little worse, her honesty more brutal, because there was a difference between sexiness and being pretty. With sexiness came power, which my mother equated to breaking a woman’s heart. Jett had that particular look about him, that impressive confidence and sexy charisma that screamed sex god, and I doubted he could play those down.

“Besides, she lives in Philadelphia now, so I can’t even pretend I don’t have the time to drive over.”

“Tina moved to Pennsylvania?” Sylvie asked, faking surprise.

In truth, it wasn’t that much of a surprise. My mother moved around a lot, depending on the guy she was dating.

“When?”

“About a month ago.” I let out an exasperated sigh. “You know her. New guy, new place.”

Sylvie let out a laugh, and I couldn’t help but join in. Years ago, my mother had been different, but after my father’s death, she had sworn off any sort of commitment—an attitude I had adopted before I met Jett.

“Who’s the lucky guy this time?” Sylvie asked.

I shrugged, signaling that I had no idea and no wish to find out either. She wouldn’t be holding on to the new flavor of the month long enough to make it worth remembering his name. “I think he’s Scottish.”

“Another one?” Sylvie eyes bulged. “That’s the fourth in a row. Seems like she favors them. You know, you could ask Jett to fib a little about his ancestry.”

“Don’t exaggerate. There have only been two.” I bit my lip to stop my laughter, but failed. “And Jett couldn’t pull off a Scottish accent if his life depended on it. He can barely hide that Southern drawl.”

Sylvie’s lips twitched. “Can you imagine him saying ‘Yer little bloody scud, yer aff yer heid’?”

I almost choked on my laughter. Sylvie was great at imitating accents, and in particular British ones, which she had picked up on family vacations.

“You should be an actress,” I said. “You’re so good that I didn’t even get half of what you just said.”

“Yeah, I should, even though my family would probably disown me. You know how old-fashioned they are.”

Sylvie’s entire family was not just old-fashioned, but also wealthy. Old money. That was one of the few things I knew about them, because Sylvie never talked about her past.