A bad feeling twisted with the nausea in Tasha’s gut. It wouldn’t do for Julian to find out about her condition. In fact, it would annoy him to know that baby brother had fathered the first grandchild.
“I wish I could go see her,” Tasha said.
“Just say the word.”
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Sure you can. We could be there by morning.”
Her lips pressed together in a slight grimace. “I have to stay here. Rent’s coming due soon.”
“We could also settle that before we leave.”
As tempting as that sounded, Tasha said, “No, Andre. That’s not why I’m with you.”
But why couldn’t she say yes? All things considered, it was no longer wrong of her to take money from Andre. She was carrying his kid. He should help out.
In light of that, couldn’t she agree to let him pay her rent for next month and head on over to France to see Camille? Sure, but what about when she got back? How long did she expect Marsha, Electric Avenue’s manager, to hold her job for her? While she did believe it was Andre’s responsibility to help her take care of the baby, she didn’t expect him to take care of both of them while she did nothing but spend his money.
There was a name for women like that. Wife or mistress. Tasha was neither.
“Nobody’s questioning why you’re with me. Least of all me.” Andre pressed his lips to hers and Tasha’s thoughts spun as she opened her mouth.
As his tongue played with hers, she fisted his hair in her hands. She let out a moan and he responded with a much more demanding kiss.
This was Tasha’s downfall. She was a fool for this man. A simple look, a soft smile, the slightest touch left her wanting more and more of Andre.
“Now that’s a hell of a welcome,” he whispered against her lips.
She giggled. “I’m glad you came early. I’ve missed you.”
“That’s why you need to come to France with me,” he said, blazing a fiery trail of kisses across her cheek and to her neck. “Just imagine…” he whispered, “I would make love to you every day.”
Tasha let out a deep sigh. “You sure know how to tempt a girl.”
“Then come with me.”
“Maybe I could get a job in France.” Tasha laughed.
Andre pulled away, and Tasha moaned, tugging at him to come back. “Do my ears deceive me?” he asked. “Are you caving?” Looking at her, his smile reached all the way to his eyes. “Hold that thought. Or better yet…” He winked at her. “Meet me in the bedroom.”
Andre pushed himself up and held out his hand.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“To the restroom,” he said, still holding out his hand.
“Go ahead, I’ll be right there.” Tasha gave him a smile. “I just need to catch my breath. You have that effect on me, you know.”
Andre’s ego puffed out his chest and straightened his shoulders. He watched her as he rounded the couch and she looked over her shoulder until he’d disappeared into the bedroom.
She turned back around and blew out a soft sigh. Geez. Her head was spinning with desire. But she couldn’t let that carry her away. She still had a secret—a huge one—that she had to share with Andre, sooner rather than later.
What would he say? Would he still want her to come with him to France? She hadn’t even dared to hope that far ahead.
Tasha would love to go to France with Andre, and not for just a few days. There was a fair chance he’d ask her to come with him once she told him about the baby. But she wanted to be more than just an obligation.
She wanted—
“Tasha?” A powerful voice, one she’d never heard from Andre, yelled her name from inside her bedroom.
Oh, shit. She’d forgotten about the pregnancy test she’d left laying on the back on the toilet.
Still holding the stick in his hand, apprehension fogged Andre’s brain and turned his knees to jelly.
Pregnant?
Tasha appeared in his peripheral vision. He cut his gaze toward her and saw the fear stiffen her face.
“Are you pregnant with my child?” he asked.
She sucked in a breath and nodded.
Andre’s hand trembled as he dragged his fingers through his hair. He inhaled deeply, but it did nothing to calm his jitters or tell him what he should do next. What he really wanted to do was sit down.
As if sensing his need, Tasha stepped back, out of the doorway. He stumbled past her, handing her the stick as he passed by her on the way to her bed. His knees gave out a couple of feet short.
Tasha rushed to his side and fell to the bed with him. Instantly, Andre felt bad about that. He should be assisting her, not the other way around.
Her tears were still flowing and suggested she must have just found out herself, which is why the pregnancy test was still on the back of the toilet. She wasn’t expecting him today, after all.
“This wasn’t exactly the way I wanted you to find out,” she said, looking at the stick. He suspected she was still trying to process the news herself.
Andre didn’t want to push her, but he had a million questions. “When did this happen?” he asked one of them.
“July.” She used the back of her hand to wipe away her flowing tears. Andre had spent the entire month of July with her. When he’d arrived in California at the beginning of the month, her period was just finishing up. “I haven’t had a period since then,” she added.
Andre ran the numbers through his head. That meant she was about nine or ten weeks along—and definitely with his child.
He looked at her. “What do you want to do?”
“Well…” She shrugged and hesitated. “I’m not exactly in a position to have and raise a child.” She stopped long enough to look at him. “But when I think about aborting our baby—” Her tears fell harder. Andre pulled into his loving embrace. She leaned on him, and said in a somewhat strangled voice, “I just can’t do it.”
“Don’t trouble yourself about it.” He stood, picked her up and carried her to the head of the bed and the pillow, and laid her down. “Right now, I just want you to get some rest.”
She reached for his hand. “Will you stay with me? I’m not feeling all that well.” She patted her stomach and laughed. “I guess I know why now.”
“Sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “I am going to make you some tea, though.” He’d heard Claudette say there was nothing better to soothe morning sickness than hot tea.