“Spell it out, Jackson. What you want is unlimited sex.” She might as well make everything as black-and-white as he was doing.
“Well . . . yes, but you’re going to enjoy that just as much as me.”
He didn’t even appear to be ashamed of that answer. What was he thinking? He was probably thinking that she was the type of girl who’d had a one-night stand with him and then went off and had another one with someone else and got knocked up. He probably considered her good mistress material. That kind of a girl.
“I have a home, Jackson, and I’m not interested in quitting my job. I like working there, love my customers—well, most of them, anyway. I love my coworkers. I can’t possibly just sit at home day and night and twiddle my thumbs. I’ve worked hard from the time I was fourteen because my parents taught me that if I wanted the world, I had to take it in my own hands, not depend on another person to give it to me. And I’m not interested in being any man’s personal mistress.”
“There are also times when it’s right to let someone else handle the weight thrust upon your shoulders. You’re on your feet for hours upon hours at your job. You sometimes even work double shifts. That can’t be beneficial to your pregnancy.” He ignored the mistress comment for now. She had no doubt he wasn’t letting the topic drop, though.
“Jackson Whitman, from the beginning of time women have been bearing children while still working hard. Women would work on their farms up until delivery, and some of them didn’t even manage to make it back in from the fields or the barns before the child was born. A little hard work certainly won’t harm my child, and I resent you for trying to make me feel bad for having a good work ethic.”
“Women of old also lost a lot of babies . . . and their own lives, too. Yes, they were tough, and they’re still tough today, but they also know when they need to rest. They listen to their bodies. Your mother told me you were bleeding, Alyssa. Your doctor put you on bed rest for at least a few days. Isn’t that enough to make you want to slow down?”
“I will have to chat with my mother about what she tells you,” she said, furious for the invasion of her privacy. “And not that I owe you an explanation, but I will listen to what my doctor says, and after a few days, I’m sure I will be back in full health. I wouldn’t risk my child.”
“I’m not saying you would, and don’t be harsh on your mother. We were just visiting and she’s concerned about you,” he said, not seeming as confident as he had before.
“When did you have a chance to chat with my mom?” She was confused.
“I sat in the kitchen with her for a few minutes. I like your mother.”
Alyssa was about ready to explode. “You are so infuriating!” she snapped. “And I don’t care what kind of dressing you put on this, Jackson, but you are telling me that if I don’t take your offer of shacking up—a lovely idea in Sterling, where everyone notices everything and everyone talks about it incessantly—then I’m not a good mother. I think it’s pretty despicable to use my fear for my child to try to get your way.”
He was completely silent as he processed her words. He opened his mouth to speak when her parents walked into the room, interrupting them. She shot her mother a look that screamed “Traitor!”
“Mmm, chocolates,” Teresa said, ignoring the look as she reached into the box. “How thoughtful, Jackson.”
“Yes, he’s just a peach,” Alyssa said, not wanting to share her chocolate with a traitor, and barely managing to keep her complaint to herself.
“I know the way to a woman’s heart,” Jackson said with a wink that had her mother smiling. “I hope you aren’t being kept too busy taking care of Alyssa.”
Alyssa sent Jackson another glare of warning. There was no way he was going to suggest that he take care of her to her mother. She could see him trying to go around her and getting the okay from her mom. Not that it would do him any good if he did. She was an adult who made her own decisions. Even if her mother approved of him, she couldn’t possibly approve of her unmarried daughter living with a man.
“I enjoy having Alyssa back home and getting a rare opportunity to take care of her,” Teresa replied.
“There are times I really would have loved to have a mother, especially one like you,” he said, and Alyssa stopped herself from saying what she’d been about to say. It hadn’t been nice, but guilt consumed her as she thought about him growing up without a mother.
“Oh, sweetie, everyone should have a mom,” Teresa said, and then walked over and enveloped Jackson in a hug. Alyssa would have thought it all an act, but for one unguarded moment, he looked up and their eyes connected. What was in them couldn’t be faked.
“Well, having a dad is important, too,” Donald said, puffing out his chest.
“Yes, of course, sir, and my dad is truly a great man,” Jackson said.
“You’ve been here two days in a row, son. I would really like to know exactly how close you and my daughter are, since you didn’t answer my questions very well yesterday,” Donald said.
Alyssa felt like screaming now. They were having a conversation about her as if she weren’t even in the room. And her dad was acting like a nightmare from Victorian times. Oh, hell, in Victorian times no father would have asked a man his intentions when the daughter was knocked up and said it was by someone else. Her dad had carried this into lunatic territory.
Then she glanced at Jackson and didn’t trust the look in his eyes, not one little bit. Jackson wasn’t a slow man. If he could get Alyssa’s father on his side, then he had a fighting chance with her. Both of Alyssa’s parents were looking at him expectantly. She wanted to break in, wanted to end this conversation, but it turned out she didn’t need to. Jackson’s phone rang and he picked it up, as if grateful for the interruption.
After speaking for a moment into the phone, he flipped it closed and said, “I’m sorry. I have to go.”
With that he walked from the room without answering her father’s question. That was answer enough, wasn’t it? Her dad must have realized that the man’s intentions were anything but honorable.
Her parents looked at her, but they didn’t say anything more about Jackson. And that was a good thing. She didn’t want to hear another word about him. Why bother even thinking about him? The man had fled, and everything had worked out for the best.