A Pregnancy, a Party & a Proposal
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Teresa Carpenter
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Chapter One
“‘TWO LINES MEANS PREGNANT.’” Lauren Randall read the early detection instructions. “‘One line, not pregnant.’”
Simple enough. Perched on the side of the bed in a long blue robe, heart beating a mile a millisecond, she scrunched her eyes closed—a cowardly act entirely unlike her—and then opened them to look at the stick.
Two lines.
She blinked. Looked again. Still two lines.
“Oh, boy.” She blew out a pent-up breath. Her mind spun with the news. She was going to be a mother. Strolling to the bedroom’s picture window, she stared unseeing at the Pacific Ocean.
Her hand went to her waist. She was expecting a baby.
Ray Donovan’s baby. Mind-boggling. This type of thing didn’t happen to her. She was too organized, too controlled. She didn’t have unprotected sex. She hadn’t had unprotected sex. But a broken condom might have changed her life...forever.
She glanced at the stick in her hand. Yep, still two lines.
“Oh, my.” A baby.
A tiny part of her was thrilled at the knowledge. She was having a baby! Would he or she have Lauren’s blond hair and light brown eyes? Or Ray’s sandy, slightly darker locks and blue eyes?
Just thinking about it sent the more rational side of her reeling. A child was not in her current five-year plan. Certainly not a child with a domineering man incapable of standing still for two whole minutes.
The sound of pounding drew her gaze down. Below her the lush garden of the Santa Barbara estate was being transformed into a wedding paradise. The day had dawned sunny and bright and, according to the meteorologists, might reach seventy degrees. Given it was Valentine’s Day, they were lucky. February weather could be unpredictable in Southern California.
The event promised to be spectacular. On the edge of the property a white-columned gazebo stood against a backdrop of green hedges and long-standing trees, beyond which the vast Pacific Ocean flowed on forever, symbolic of the unending devotion about to be declared.
Short columns on which sat rose ball topiaries created the aisle. White chairs with silver sashes provided seating for the guests. A huge white tent graced the middle of the lawn and wood flooring had been put down. The tentpoles had been encased in columns to match the gazebo and thousands of white lights were being draped across the ceiling to give the impression of dancing under the stars.
More rose topiaries acted as centerpieces on the round tables at the dining end. Curved couches ringed the dance floor at the other end. The overall vision was elegant, yet understated, and her By Arrangement team had pulled it off beautifully.
Co-owners of By Arrangement, Lauren and Tori had both taken on new assistants at the start of the year. They were working the event, but the rest of the jobs had vendors in place, thus freeing their staff to attend as guests.
Shortly Lauren would be walking down the aisle toward Ray. Not as bride to his groom, but as maid of honor to his best man. Today was not her big day, but her twin’s. Tori would marry the man she loved in a romantic ocean-view ceremony in a little over two hours.
If that gave Lauren a pinch of envy it was only because her sister was so happy. Difficult not to want that for herself.
But it was only a pinch. After a bad scare in college, she’d put her career in front of romance. So far she had few regrets. Lauren liked where she was in life. Of course she’d need to recalibrate now she was going to have a child to consider.
So, a wedding for her sister and a baby for her. The timing of the discovery was extraordinary. Was this some kind of karmic message? Or perhaps a spiritual nudge?
Now, there was a cosmic joke—because “marriage” and “Ray” were two words that didn’t belong in the same sentence, or even paragraph. Heck, they wouldn’t be in the same novel.
And if she hadn’t been playing ostrich—again, totally unlike her—she would have known she was pregnant a week ago. She’d certainly suspected, with the nausea and the tenderness in her breasts. But she’d been busy and in denial—a slick combination for avoiding the inevitable.
There’d been too much to do, what with last-minute details for the wedding and family coming into town for the rehearsal. Seeing Ray again was what had prompted her to pick up the early pregnancy testing kit. She couldn’t contemplate walking down the aisle to him without knowing the truth. Not that knowing the truth helped now that it was a yes.
Well, no time to brood about it now.
Tossing the stick in the trash, she moved to the closet to take down her dress. It was past time to join Tori and their mother in Tori’s room to get ready.
A knock sounded at the door. Carrying the dress, she opened the door to her mother.
Like Lauren, her mom already had her hair and make-up done. Garrett, Tori’s fiancé and owner of Obsidian Studios, had arranged for three professional hairstylists and make-up artists to come to the house to prepare the wedding party for the event. Her mom looked lovely, with her hair swept up in a sleek French twist and the expert application of cosmetics. But then she looked just as pretty with no make-up and her hair in a ponytail.
To Lauren, she was just Mom.
“Oh, Mom.” She launched herself into Liz Randall’s arms, letting the scent of lavender comfort her.
The news of her baby nearly tripped off Lauren’s tongue. She pressed her lips together to prevent the words from spilling. This was Tori’s special day. Lauren would never do anything to disrupt her twin’s wedding day.
“Hey.” Her mother’s arms closed around her, careful not to crush the dress she held. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she lied. She wouldn’t be okay until this day was over and the certainty of running into Ray no longer existed. And, truthfully, the hug did make her feel better. She forced her mind to switch gears. “Our girl is getting married.”
“I know.” Liz gave her another squeeze before stepping back. “She won’t be right next door anymore, but we have to remember we’re not losing her—we’re gaining a new son and brother.” She tweaked the ends of Lauren’s hair and studied her closely. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re a little pale.”
“I’m fine.” Lauren hooked her arm through her mother’s as they walked down the hall to the master suite. “I’ll still miss her.”
“She’s your partner. You’ll see her nearly every day.”
“It won’t be the same.”
No, and their lives were going to change even more drastically than her mom knew.
“Different, yes, but in a good way.” Liz was a glass half-full gal. “Especially when we start getting little ones to play with. You two will be twenty-nine in a couple of months. I’ve waited a long time to be a grandmother.”
Yeah, well, her wait was nearly up.
“Oh!” Liz exclaimed. “Maybe she’ll have twins.”
Lauren’s stomach did a little flip. She swallowed hard. Okay, she wasn’t ready to think about having twins.
Down the way a door opened and Ray Donovan stepped into the hall. He wore jeans and a muscle-clinging green T-shirt. His shaggy dark blond hair had been trimmed considerably since she’d seen him last night. It was brushed back at the sides and a little wild on top. He looked entirely too yummy for her peace of mind.
He hesitated at the head of the stairs, his blue gaze traveling between her and her mother. He lifted his camera, aimed it in their direction.
“Ray, stop that. We’re not dressed yet. Where are you going?” Her mother pointed to the car keys in his hand. “You should be getting ready.”
He pocketed the keys. “I have an errand. I’ll be back in plenty of time.” With a last glance at Lauren, which she avoided, he headed downstairs.
For a wild moment she wondered how he would deal with twins. But her mind refused to wrap around the concept so she pulled her focus back to Tori.
“Mom, I think we should let her get through the wedding before we have her barefoot and pregnant.”
“Sweetheart...” Liz patted Lauren’s hand “...who are you kidding? Tori will be barefoot before the end of the night.”
The statement was so true they were giggling when the door in front of them opened and Tori stood there in sexy curls, a silky white robe, and bare feet. “Where have you two been?”
Lauren met her mother’s golden gaze, so like her own, and they both burst out laughing.
* * *
Ray Donovan shifted his wide shoulders in the custom-made tuxedo. Weddings gave him hives. Been there, almost did that, never plan to do it again. A fact not even his good buddy Garrett knew. It had happened so long ago Ray liked to pretend it had never happened at all.
Pacing the study, or “the groom’s room”, as Lauren’s new assistant had corrected him, Ray twitched at his tie. He was slowly suffocating.
Thinking of Lauren didn’t help at all. Contrary woman. The honey-eyed blond was the hottest armful he’d ever held, but way too stubborn for his taste when they weren’t locked in a clinch. Their fling, for want of a better word, was over.
Until two days ago he hadn’t seen her since Christmas, when she’d called time on their trysts.
How stunning to realize he’d actually missed her. But any hope of expending his nervous energy by reigniting the chemistry between them while they were hooked up for the wedding festivities had fizzled out when she had refused to meet his gaze at the rehearsal. Or any time since.
Okay. Message received.
All for the best. In spite of his hopeful initial reaction, he’d been truly unnerved as he’d watched her walk down the aisle toward him. The sight had been a punch to the gut. He hadn’t stopped twitching since. Confirmation that he’d been smart to keep it casual, to let her end things between them.
He paused in front of a gilded mirror. He smoothed his short sandy hair back into place and straightened his tie. Pull it together, he silently chided himself. You’re sounding more like a wuss than a director known for going into the trenches with his stuntmen and actors.
“Relax,” Garrett said from his place behind the desk. “Anyone would think it was you getting married instead of me.”
“I don’t know how you can be so calm.”
Ray dropped into the chair in front of the desk, picked up his camera and shot the groom. To occupy his hands, as well as his mind, he’d decided to give the bride and groom the gift of an insider’s perspective on their wedding: pictures and videos no photographer would have access to.
“The waiting is excruciating. How much longer before this gig gets going?”
Garrett’s gaze shifted to the mantel clock. “Soon. And it’s easy to be calm when you’re sure of what you’re doing.”
“Marriage is a trap for the unwary. Standing up there in front of everyone is a lonely place to be.”
Okay, he knew that was warped even as the words slipped out. His memories had no place here.
“I won’t be alone.” Garrett laughed off the outrageous comment. “I’ll be joined by the woman I love. Until then you’ll be by my side.”
Garrett opened the bottom drawer in the solid oak desk and pulled out a bottle of aged whiskey and a single crystal glass. After pouring a good dollop into the glass, he pushed it across the oak surface to Ray.
“Maybe this will help settle your nerves.”
“No, thanks.” Ray turned down the shot. Normally he’d accept and relish the burn. Today he’d remain stone-cold sober. The way he felt, adding alcohol was not a good idea.
“I don’t understand you, dude.” Garrett shook his head. “You’re the one who told me I’d be safe with Tori.”
“It’s easy to see she makes you happy.” Ray ran a hand over his jaw. Just because marriage wasn’t for him didn’t mean others couldn’t benefit from the bond. “And of course you have that whole Spidey sense of approval going for you.”
Apparently the twins were natural matchmakers and got a special “feeling” when they saw two people who belonged together. Lauren had gotten the feeling about Garrett and Tori, but hadn’t said anything until after they were engaged.
Garrett arched a dark eyebrow. “Mock if you want. I’m reaping the rewards.”
“Sorry. The truth is you deserve the best. Don’t mind me—weddings make me twitchy.”
“So you said when I asked you to be my best man. Thanks for doing this for me.”
“You’re the closest thing I have to a brother. Of course I’m here for you.”
“What’s your deal anyway?”
Ray shook his head. “Ancient history. Too depressing for the occasion.”
Too depressing, period. He didn’t talk or think about those times.
A knock sounded at the door and Lauren’s assistant stuck her head in. “It’s time, gentlemen.”
“We’ll be right there,” Garrett assured her, and surged to his feet. He looked at Ray as he rose too. “Are you ready for this?”
Ray waved Garrett forward, then clapped him on the back when he passed. “Let’s get you hitched.”
Outside, Ray stood at his friend’s side in the shade of the gazebo as music filled the air and the bridal party started toward them. Nick Randall escorted his mother to the front row. As soon as they were seated, Lauren began her journey down the rose-strewn runner.
Ray couldn’t take his eyes off her. She wore a strapless, figure-hugging silver gown, showing her curves to sweet advantage. The fading sun gleamed in golden curls swept to one side, leaving one creamy shoulder bare. She grew more stunning the closer she got.
He completely missed the bride walking down the aisle as his gaze lingered on the maid of honor. Watching her, he remembered their first heated encounter in the laundry room of his home on Thanksgiving. Desire stirred.
Not wanting to embarrass himself, or his friend, he turned his attention—and his camera—to the ceremony. The officiate spoke, and then Garrett and Tori exchanged the poignant vows they’d written themselves. Weddings might make Ray itch, but as a film director he recognized powerful dialogue when he heard it.
He received the signal to hand over the rings. Garrett kissed his bride. The officiate introduced the couple as Mr. and Mrs. Black. And finally the time came for Ray to touch Lauren as they moved to follow the couple up the aisle in a reverse procession.
As before, she refused to look at him as he linked her arm around his.
“You look beautiful.” He laid his hand over hers and squeezed. Forget her decree. He wasn’t ready to let her go yet. Changing her mind was exactly the distraction he needed.
She bunched her fingers into a fist, but didn’t look at him.
“You girls outdid yourselves with the decorations.”
She rolled her amber eyes. “You could care less about the decorations.”
“Not true. As a director, I admire a well-organized scene.”
“I’m sure Tori will be glad you approve. It’s her vision.”
They reached the end of the aisle. Lauren immediately pulled free of him.
“Don’t wander off. We’ll be doing photos in a moment.”
“Yes,” he tossed out with droll humor. “I got a copy of the itinerary.”
That drew her gaze as she narrowed her eyes at him. “Behave.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Where’s the fun in that?” He leaned close, inhaled her sweet scent—honeysuckle and soap—and whispered, “Meet me in the laundry room in twenty minutes.”
A blush added color to her rose-dusted cheeks. But, oh, such warm eyes weren’t meant to give off chills. Her hands went to her shapely hips, but before she could speak she was drawn into a hug as friends and family descended on the wedding party.
“You’re a piece of work,” she managed in an aside between greetings. “What about your date?”
“I’m stag tonight.” He shook hands and nodded as people stopped in front of him. In a short break between one guest and the next he sent her a sultry look over his shoulder. “There’s been no one since you.”
“What? I’m supposed to feel sorry for you?” She snorted, then had to paste on a smile when her grandmother gave her an odd look. “Spare me, please. You’re a world-class director. You could have a woman on your arm with the snap of your fingers.”
“I pine for you,” he said, and lifted Grandma Randall’s hand to his mouth to kiss her fingers. “So nice to meet you. It’s easy to see where Tori gets her beauty.”
The older woman twittered prettily and moved on.
“Flirt,” Lauren admonished him.
He grinned. “She loved it.”
“Only proves my point. You won’t be alone for long.”
“Come on—I barely know anyone.” There were a few film industry people here, but the biggest portion of guests was made up of Tori’s family and friends. “You’re maid of honor to my best man. We’re scripted to be together.”
“Hmm. You’ve spent half the time behind that camera. I don’t know why you need company at all.”
Implying he was lacking at his duties? Why did he allow her to get to him? Yes, she was lovely, but he’d dated some of the most gorgeous women in the world. She was a bit of a brat, and she constantly challenged his authority. But one whiff of her scent and he could think of only one thing: getting her alone.
The thinning crowd shifted, bumping Lauren into Ray. He grabbed her to keep her from toppling. His fingers framed her hips as he drew her close.
He lowered his head and kissed the vulnerable curve of her neck. “The laundry room door has a lock. We won’t be gone long.”
She melted against him. The corner of his mouth kicked up in satisfaction as he mentally tracked the fastest route to the utility room. They both had bedrooms inside, but the laundry room held sentimental value. Best of all, no one was likely to look for them there.
In the next instant she’d elbowed him in the gut and twisted from his grasp. “Hands off.”
He immediately held his hands up in a sign of surrender. He looked at her more closely. “Are you okay? You’re a little pale.”
She looked away. “I’m fine. I just choose not to let my hormones rule me today. It’s my sister’s wedding. I’m not going to steal away with you.”
Lauren’s assistant appeared, ushering the wedding party back to the gazebo.
“No one will miss us after the photos are done.”
“Just stop.” She planted a hand in the middle of his chest and lifted a pleading gaze to him.
He stepped back. “Pardon me.”
He’d never forced himself on a woman and he wouldn’t start now. If she didn’t care to act on the desire her standoffishness couldn’t completely disguise, he respected her decision. He’d only pursued her because she helped distract him from the wedding heebie-jeebies.
Shoulders back, he gestured her forward.
For the next twenty minutes he stood where instructed, smiled when told, and snapped his own shots when he wasn’t needed. Finally the photographer released the wedding party. He trekked to the reception with Lauren’s brother Nick.
They exchanged pleasantries. “How’s work?” Ray asked.
“Busy. I know I shouldn’t be happy about that.” Nick ran the trauma unit at a Palm Springs hospital. “But I prefer action to twiddling my thumbs. How about you? Is there a new film I should be looking forward to?”
“I wrapped up Gates of Peril in December. It’ll be out over the summer. I’m still in the planning stages of the next one.”
“I’m going to hold you to that invite to a premier you issued at Thanksgiving. Not only will I enjoy the movie, it’ll be serious chick points.”
Nick introduced Ray to more family and he got some nice group footage. Lauren had a large, fun family. Grandma Randall did like to flirt. She snagged his arm and showed him off. It made him think of his own family. He owed his grandmother a call. She had raised him from the age of ten, when his parents had died in an auto accident. Her birthday was this week.
Having delayed as long as possible, he wandered over to the head table. Along the way a curvy redhead caught his eye. She showed her interest with a come-hither gaze. He kept on walking. He already had all the woman he could handle tonight.
At the head table he slid into his seat next to Lauren. Tori’s parents sat on the other side of the happy couple. Unwilling to sit in uncomfortable silence for the duration of dinner, he turned on the charm.
He kept the conversation light and impersonal, which put Lauren at ease. Stories from the set were always entertaining, and he finally drew a laugh from his companion. It gave him almost as much satisfaction as when she had melted against him earlier.
She’d been overly tense all day. Probably from having to hand control over to her assistant. The woman was nothing if not bossy. The deejay announced the first dance: a waltz to When You Say Nothing At All. Tori and Garrett took the floor, and after a few minutes Ray led Lauren out to join them and pulled her into his arms.
“Close your eyes,” he bade her. “It’ll be over in a minute.”
She glanced at him through her lashes. “You’re being very nice.”
“Hey, I can take a hint when it slaps me in the chest.”
“I’m sorry.” She laid her head on his shoulder. “I’ve been such a brat.”
He tightened his arm around her waist. “No more than usual.”
She laughed. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“Is it working?” He laid his cheek against the silk of her hair. “Should I brave another invitation to move indoors?”
She pulled her head back, eyed him speculatively. “To the laundry room? There are more comfortable rooms available inside, if you’re truly interested in tempting me.”
“Hey, I have fond memories of you in a laundry room.” He kissed a path to her ear. “Remember?”
She sighed. “I remember. It wasn’t one of my finest moments.”
“Oh, I disagree.” He twirled her and brought her back against him. “You were more than fine—you were extremely hot.”
“My parents were playing poker in another room!”
“You wild child, you.”
She grinned. “It was rather naughty.”
“Excellent.” Blood surged hot through his veins. “Let’s go.”
With her hand in his, he started off the dance floor.
“Stop.” She dug her heels in. “Fun as this is...” she waved between them “...there’s no future to it. I can’t keep dodging into closets with you.”
“Why not?”
“I’m a responsible adult. I have to think of...my reputation. Eventually someone is going to notice if we keep disappearing together.”
He scowled, positive that wasn’t what she’d been going to say. “Dynamite, this is Hollywood—being seen with me can only up your reputation.”
“Humble, much?” She shook her head. “Seriously, whatever was between us is over.”
He stood watching her walk away, appeased only slightly by the look of regret he’d seen in the depths of her eyes.
* * *
This night was never going to end. Lauren gathered empties and carried them to the tray near the bar. And turned to be confronted by the bride.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Nothing.” Lauren fought the urge to hide her hands behind her back. She waved them instead. “See? Nothing.”
“Uh-huh.” Tori grabbed one of her hands and drew it close as she wrapped her arm around Lauren’s. “Because it’s my day, I’ll pretend I didn’t see you clearing the tables.”
“Forgive me. Blame it on habit.”
“Only because I had to stop myself from doing the same thing twice.”
“Oh, that would never do.”
“That’s what Garrett said.”
As they neared the dance floor Lauren demanded, “Where are you taking me?”
“Here.” Tori drew her right into the middle of the dancers swaying to a soft ballad. “I’ve danced with all my favorite people today except one. You.”
Lauren’s stomach jolted at the idea of swirling to music even as her heart overflowed with joy. She stepped into her sister’s arms and hugged her close. If she moved slowly enough she’d be fine.
“Be happy,” she whispered. “More than anything, I hope for your happiness.”
“I am. Happier than I’ve ever been,” Tori assured her. “Garrett gets me.”
“And you get him. It’s why you click.”
“I want this for you.” Tori’s eyes glittered with happiness, with a need to share her bliss with the world. Her gaze flitted to the head table, where Garrett and his best man lounged back with a couple of beers. “Maybe you and Ray?”
“Oh, no.” Lauren automatically shook her head. “Sorry to disappoint, but that’s ancient history.”
“Why?” Tori challenged. “Because he causes you to act spontaneously? To have a little fun? I think he’s been good for you.”
“Good for me?” She laughed. Oh, he did wonderful things to her. But good for her? Not by a long shot. “Think about it. He’s a master manipulator.”
“He’s a director,” Tori reminded her. “It’s what he does, not who he is. He’s not Brad, Lauren. He’d never hurt you.”
Easy for Tori to say. Lauren would rather not risk it. Something told her Ray’s power to hurt would put Brad to shame.
“Ladies, you make such a pretty picture we had to come join you.” Garrett smoothly stepped between them and brought their linked hands to his mouth, where he kissed the back of Lauren’s fingers before twirling her around and passing her over to Ray.
Her world spun as he moved off with Tori.
“Hey.” Ray’s strong arms held her steady. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. No.” She leaned her forehead on his chest, prayed for her stomach to settle. No such luck. “I’m going to be sick.”
Lifting her skirts, she took off at a run. And, oh, goodness, she wasn’t going to make it. But then a hard arm curved around her back and swept her along. She reached the bathroom off the kitchen with no time to spare.
Ray held her hair while she emptied her stomach. She was mortified—and grateful. She wanted him to go but was also glad he was there.
“I’m so sorry.” She flushed and slowly lifted her head. Wait—why was she apologizing? It was his kid causing this inconvenience! A fact he was sure to catch on to with this display.
“No need to be. We’ve all had a tad too much bubbly at one point or another.” He pressed a damp cloth into her hands.
She lifted it to her face, reveled in the coolness. When she lowered the cloth he held a dripping bottle of water out to her. She gratefully accepted it.
“Oh, man, I could kiss you right now.”
He smiled and tucked a loose tendril behind her ear. “Sorry, Dynamite. All trips to the laundry room have been cancelled for the night.”
