Page 10 of The Plan

“Probably around April Fools’ Day, I think.” How ironic.

“Will you want to know what we’re having before, or do you want to go old-fashioned?”

We.

Well… “You plan to be a part of the baby’s life, don’t you?”

“Every damned day.” His fingers tightened on hers. Holding her captive and everything. “This is my baby, too. But I know… you probably are wishing you hadn’t told me right now, aren’t you?”

“Something like that.” She would never trust him to want her. And not just because of the baby. That wasn’t too hard to figure out, right? “We’ll have to work out a visitation schedule, then.”

“There won’t be a visitation schedule. By the time the baby is born, you’re going to be in my house. In my bed. Where the mother of my child—and their future siblings—belongs.”

“Wait a minute, pal. I am not about to hook up with a man that archaic and anachronistic. We really are from different generations, aren’t we? Maybe I have plans of my own? Did you stop to consider that? I’m already making plans to move. Probably out of Value forever.” She had to. Her car had refused to start on the way over here. She had no guarantee it would ever start again.

It was how the man had lured her into his truck to begin with. With a promise of a ride home. It was June, in Texas. It was hot out there. She hadn’t wanted to walk. She never should have trusted Georgie—she’d seen the look in his eyes.

“That’s just not going to happen. You are mine, Veronica Dawn Lake. You might as well get used to it. Where do you think you’re moving to?”

“Well, that is the part I haven’t yet figured out.” No sense lying about it. He would find out eventually. It was his baby, too, after all. Why couldn’t he have been the kind of guy to deny and head for the hills? It would have made things so much simpler.

Then again… that wasn’t the kind of guy she’d fall for anyway.

Hard to forget that.

She had so put her foot in it this time.

8

Step one of his plan.Distract her.

On purpose.

Keep Veronica from having a moment to stop and think. To determine what it was she wanted from him. Then, he was going to seduce her. Get her into his bed. And in his house. Forever.

Hishouse. Damn it. His house needed work.

He’d bought it two years ago and was slowly refurbishing it. Preserving the history of one of the largest homes in Value’s past. It had needed a lot of work to make it livable. It was still rough around the edges. He was going to have to get his brothers there to help him get it repaired and painted—before Veronica could move in. Fast.

Especially Grady—his brother Grady was damned good at fixing things, building things. His younger brother could help him. George would have to talk to him, to the rest of them. Explain what he needed.

He could have her stay with his parents for a few days. To let the fumes air out. They could stay with his parents—he wouldn’t want to leave her with his four brothers without him. They could be overwhelming to a shy, reserved woman like his Veronica.

His house was a nice, sturdy three-story Craftsman. Almost forty-four hundred square feet. Seven bedrooms. It was the biggest house in downtown Value. It would shelter a family for generations to come—with a little work. He needed to get that work done. He’d have to dip into his savings to make it happen, but it was doable. Just how quick was the question, though.

Babies—and wives—weren’t cheap. But he would make it work. She’d have a home she could be proud of. That would be safe for her and the baby. “Did you find another job in Barrattville?”

“No, not as a paralegal. I had a temporary one with the Barratt firm, but the woman’s maternity leave ended two weeks ago. I’ve got a part-time position at the Barratt-Finley Creek though. I start in two days.”

“Your old job is yours. I’ve not replaced you.”

“Why not? It’s been three months, you goober. You need a paralegal. You can’t go that long without someone keeping you in line. Remember when I took a week off last year?”

Hell, yes, he remembered. It had been one of the longest weeks of his life, until she’d come back that following Monday.

“Because no one who interviewed for the position could replace you. It took me two weeks just to empty your trash. I missed you too much.” George had been raised by very verbal parents in a household where everyone talked and communicated. He wasn’t used to holding back what he was thinking.

“Sure you did. You could have called me—or emailed, or texted, or stopped by—if you missed me that much. Tell me the truth, would you have ever looked me up again if I hadn’t shown up with proof of your virility tonight?”

---