Yours for Christmas
Page 28
“I don’t want to know what those cost,” Isabel murmured.
“Me, either.” Bailey told herself she wasn’t going to cry. “When did she get back from her trip?”
“Yesterday.”
And Taryn had done this for her today. “I’m going to have to give her a kidney or something to say thank you.”
Isabel hugged her. “It will make her happy to see you looking like a princess.”
“I think I’d rather be a sex goddess.”
“That, too.”
* * *
BAILEY DIDN’T KNOW where to look first. The ballroom had been decorated in white. White trees, white twinkle lights, white flowers on white tablecloths. There were perfect red accents—a red ribbon running down the center of each table. A single red rose at every other place setting. Formally dressed serving staff circulated with glasses of champagne. She was out of her element, but prepared to have the time of her life.
Having an incredibly handsome man at her side certainly helped, she thought. Kenny had shown up on time, looking movie-star gorgeous in a tailored tux. But what really got her heart beating fast was the look on his face when he saw her. The moment of appreciation and raw desire had gone a long way in upping her confidence quotient.
Now, as they circulated through the party, he kept his hand on the small of her back. When they stopped to talk to clients, he kept his hand possessively on her hip. She told herself not to read too much into his actions, but she couldn’t help the little ripples of excitement that zipped through her.
The guy who owned the jet company turned out to be pretty nice. His wife, a stay-at-home mom, used her phone to show off pictures of their kids.
“I see Taryn,” Bailey told Kenny a few minutes later. “I need to talk to her for a second.”
“Don’t go far.”
“I won’t.” Later there was supposed to be dancing. Bailey hoped Kenny planned to dance the night away with her. Who wouldn’t want that in her future?
She excused herself and crossed the room toward her friend. Taryn had on a black, strapless, fitted evening gown that sparkled and dazzled nearly as much as the woman herself. Her hair was long and straight, her makeup dramatic. Large diamonds gleamed from her ears and around her wrists. She looked exotic, wanton and powerful.
Bailey gave herself a second to admire the view, then approached her friend. Taryn saw her and hurried over.
“You look fantastic,” Taryn said. “My God, every guy in the place is going to want to haul you off and have his way with you.”
“Oh, please,” Bailey said. “As if. You look amazing.”
Taryn dismissed the compliment with a flick of her wrist. “This old thing? We just got back two days ago. I didn’t have time to shop. Not that anyone here has seen the dress, but still.”
Bailey laughed. Obviously her month away hadn’t changed Taryn at all. It was good to know that some things were consistent. “Thank you for my accessories.” She held up the bag and pointed to the earrings. “You’re very sweet to me.”
“Don’t say that out loud,” Taryn told her, glancing around as she spoke. “You think I want people to know I’m nice?”
Bailey grinned. “Sorry. I won’t say anything. How are you? How was your trip?”
“Wonderful. Romantic. Angel is a god—not that I want him to know.” She took Bailey by the arm and led her to an alcove in the corner. “I need to talk to you.”
Gone was the teasing and sassy attitude. Taryn’s eyes were wide and filled with an emotion Bailey didn’t recognize. On anyone else she would have said it was fear.
“What’s wrong?”
Taryn drew in a breath. “I think, I mean I’m pretty sure...” She swallowed. “I’m pregnant.”
Bailey laughed. “That’s wonderful. You scared me. Aren’t you happy?”
“Happy? No. Terrified. I’m not like you. I’m not sweet or giving or huggy. I want to be a good mom, but what if I screw up? What if my kid doesn’t like me?” Tears filled her eyes. “You don’t understand. I had horrible parents. I don’t know how to do this.”
Bailey wrapped her arms around her friend. “You’ll be fine. Trust me. You have everything you need inside of you. You’re warm and caring. I’m wearing the shoes that prove it. You know how to love. That’s all children want. To be loved. You’ll provide a stable home and lots of attention. It’s going to be fine.”
Taryn stepped back. “I’m not convinced. Can you teach me how to be more like you?”
Bailey held in more laughter. “Sure. We can start right away so you’re ready.”
“Okay. Thank you. I’m not going to tell anyone else until I’m in my fourth month. Just to be sure everything is okay. But I wanted to tell you.” She sniffed. “Do you think they make couture maternity clothes?”
Bailey laughed. “I’m sure of it.”
* * *
PART OF GROWING up with a parent in the State Department and living overseas meant learning to adjust to different cultures and traditions. Kenny had gotten good at adapting when necessary. It was a skill that had served him well on the football field and in life. But no matter how he smiled and talked with his business partners, his friends and clients, he couldn’t shake the sensation of something not being right.
Maybe it was the tux. He would rather be in jeans. Maybe it was the party itself—too many people having too much fun. Only he liked parties and he enjoyed the holidays and hell, wearing a tux now and then wasn’t a big deal. So why did he keep feeling as if his collar was too tight and that he should be scanning the room for exits?
“Me, either.” Bailey told herself she wasn’t going to cry. “When did she get back from her trip?”
“Yesterday.”
And Taryn had done this for her today. “I’m going to have to give her a kidney or something to say thank you.”
Isabel hugged her. “It will make her happy to see you looking like a princess.”
“I think I’d rather be a sex goddess.”
“That, too.”
* * *
BAILEY DIDN’T KNOW where to look first. The ballroom had been decorated in white. White trees, white twinkle lights, white flowers on white tablecloths. There were perfect red accents—a red ribbon running down the center of each table. A single red rose at every other place setting. Formally dressed serving staff circulated with glasses of champagne. She was out of her element, but prepared to have the time of her life.
Having an incredibly handsome man at her side certainly helped, she thought. Kenny had shown up on time, looking movie-star gorgeous in a tailored tux. But what really got her heart beating fast was the look on his face when he saw her. The moment of appreciation and raw desire had gone a long way in upping her confidence quotient.
Now, as they circulated through the party, he kept his hand on the small of her back. When they stopped to talk to clients, he kept his hand possessively on her hip. She told herself not to read too much into his actions, but she couldn’t help the little ripples of excitement that zipped through her.
The guy who owned the jet company turned out to be pretty nice. His wife, a stay-at-home mom, used her phone to show off pictures of their kids.
“I see Taryn,” Bailey told Kenny a few minutes later. “I need to talk to her for a second.”
“Don’t go far.”
“I won’t.” Later there was supposed to be dancing. Bailey hoped Kenny planned to dance the night away with her. Who wouldn’t want that in her future?
She excused herself and crossed the room toward her friend. Taryn had on a black, strapless, fitted evening gown that sparkled and dazzled nearly as much as the woman herself. Her hair was long and straight, her makeup dramatic. Large diamonds gleamed from her ears and around her wrists. She looked exotic, wanton and powerful.
Bailey gave herself a second to admire the view, then approached her friend. Taryn saw her and hurried over.
“You look fantastic,” Taryn said. “My God, every guy in the place is going to want to haul you off and have his way with you.”
“Oh, please,” Bailey said. “As if. You look amazing.”
Taryn dismissed the compliment with a flick of her wrist. “This old thing? We just got back two days ago. I didn’t have time to shop. Not that anyone here has seen the dress, but still.”
Bailey laughed. Obviously her month away hadn’t changed Taryn at all. It was good to know that some things were consistent. “Thank you for my accessories.” She held up the bag and pointed to the earrings. “You’re very sweet to me.”
“Don’t say that out loud,” Taryn told her, glancing around as she spoke. “You think I want people to know I’m nice?”
Bailey grinned. “Sorry. I won’t say anything. How are you? How was your trip?”
“Wonderful. Romantic. Angel is a god—not that I want him to know.” She took Bailey by the arm and led her to an alcove in the corner. “I need to talk to you.”
Gone was the teasing and sassy attitude. Taryn’s eyes were wide and filled with an emotion Bailey didn’t recognize. On anyone else she would have said it was fear.
“What’s wrong?”
Taryn drew in a breath. “I think, I mean I’m pretty sure...” She swallowed. “I’m pregnant.”
Bailey laughed. “That’s wonderful. You scared me. Aren’t you happy?”
“Happy? No. Terrified. I’m not like you. I’m not sweet or giving or huggy. I want to be a good mom, but what if I screw up? What if my kid doesn’t like me?” Tears filled her eyes. “You don’t understand. I had horrible parents. I don’t know how to do this.”
Bailey wrapped her arms around her friend. “You’ll be fine. Trust me. You have everything you need inside of you. You’re warm and caring. I’m wearing the shoes that prove it. You know how to love. That’s all children want. To be loved. You’ll provide a stable home and lots of attention. It’s going to be fine.”
Taryn stepped back. “I’m not convinced. Can you teach me how to be more like you?”
Bailey held in more laughter. “Sure. We can start right away so you’re ready.”
“Okay. Thank you. I’m not going to tell anyone else until I’m in my fourth month. Just to be sure everything is okay. But I wanted to tell you.” She sniffed. “Do you think they make couture maternity clothes?”
Bailey laughed. “I’m sure of it.”
* * *
PART OF GROWING up with a parent in the State Department and living overseas meant learning to adjust to different cultures and traditions. Kenny had gotten good at adapting when necessary. It was a skill that had served him well on the football field and in life. But no matter how he smiled and talked with his business partners, his friends and clients, he couldn’t shake the sensation of something not being right.
Maybe it was the tux. He would rather be in jeans. Maybe it was the party itself—too many people having too much fun. Only he liked parties and he enjoyed the holidays and hell, wearing a tux now and then wasn’t a big deal. So why did he keep feeling as if his collar was too tight and that he should be scanning the room for exits?
