Page 180 of Secondhand Smoke

Tonya was trim and fit, and so her baby bump was just that, a bump beneath her sweater, her arms, legs, and hips still slender. She took a seat in a plush cream chair by the fireplace of her parents’ palatial family room and invited Sam to sit in the chair opposite with an elegant gesture.

Aware that she’d come from the barn, she sat carefully on the edge of the chair, hands clasped in her lap. “You’re engaged.”

Tonya lifted her left hand so the sunlight glinted off the massive rock adorning her third finger. “For about a month now.”

“And you really don’t want the baby?”

“No. Is that why you’re here? To threaten me the way his stepmother did?”

“I happen to know that Maggie Teague doesn’t threaten people,” Sam said, voice hardening. “Please don’t cheapen the woman’s confidence that way.”

Tonya’s brows lifted.

“And no. I’m here to tell you thatIwon’t be intimidated byyou. We aren’t little girls anymore, Tonya. And because I needed to see you in person, to see if you were being honest.”

Tonya gave her a measuring look.

“I need to know you won’t renege and pull some stunt after the baby’s born, try to keep it.”

“The paperwork’s already been signed. Aidan’s oh-so-charming father and his lawyer actually put together a contract.” She snorted. “Rest assured. You’ll get your baby, Samantha.”

“This isn’t about me. It’s about Aidan. I’m just looking out for him.”

Tonya’s head tilted, beautiful dark hair cascading down her arm. “You really do love him, don’t you?”

The woman’s expression, and her question, struck Sam as beyond odd. She returned: “And you’re not capable of love, are you?”

Tonya shrugged. “Maybe. One day. Maybe I learned to suppress it.” Her smile was cool, bitter. “More power to you, then.”

~*~

In truth, Sam wasn’t sure what she’d been searching for, going to see Tonya. To reassure herself, perhaps. Deep down, she was anxious about the baby. The birth was still a ways off, and though things had been good with Aidan – things had been wonderful – she felt the distant pressure of his little girl’s arrival, growing stronger by the day.

His little girl. A lump formed in her throat every time she revisited her mental picture of the child – which was often.

Last night, when Aidan was still inside her, as they’d lay gasping together, hot and slick with sweat, she’d closed her eyes and imagined the baby, little wrinkled pink features and tiny fingers and toes. She thought her womb had tightened, a deep longing that echoed through her whole body.I want a baby. Well, she was going to have one. And maybe one day…

But all of this was shadowed, still. She didn’t know why, couldn’t put her finger on it, but some small seed of worry kept growing roots in the back of her mind.

Maybe because Don Ellison was still alive out there, slinking around the underworld, eluding the club’s tracking efforts.

Yes, that was it.

Probably.

She’d dropped Erin off at home after her lesson, told her to hit the books, and checked the soup in the crock pot before heading to Tonya’s. As she pulled back into the driveway, she was surprised to find Aidan’s bike parked alongside her mother’s car. They hadn’t made plans for tonight. In fact, he’d been evasive over the phone earlier, and she’d chalked it up to him being distracted by Tango.

Poor Tango. To Sam’s knowledge, he hadn’t cracked a smile once since his rescue.

“Mom?” she called when she stepped through the back door.

“In here,” Helen’s voice came from the living room.

Sam found her mother and boyfriend sitting side-by-side on the couch. Helen had a crumpled tissue in her hand and dabbed at her eyes. Aidan looked slightly nauseas.

“What’s wrong?” Sam’s heart leapt behind her breastbone.

“Oh nothing.” Helen got to her feet, blowing her nose. She shook her head and gave Sam a watery smile. “I’m fine, I’m fine.” She came to Sam and hugged her.

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