Grant (Riding Hard) - Jennifer Ashley Page 0,40
who’d fathered the child inside her before it was born. Though Christina was vague about how the tests worked, she knew she wouldn’t have to wonder very long.
However, if the baby turned out to be Ray’s, that meant Christina got to tell Grant he was shooting blanks.
You could always, a little voice inside her whispered, choose which one you want and pretend he’s the father for sure.
Christina knew instantly she couldn’t. She’d never lie to her own kid, or to the potential dads. As much as she wanted the baby to be Grant’s, she couldn’t do that to Ray. It wasn’t like Ray was an evil mass murderer or anything. And maybe somewhere down the road it would be important to be aware of the family medical history. Even more than that, child and father deserved to know about each other.
No, Christina would tell the truth, no matter how painful it would be for all concerned.
Next step, see a doctor, confirm the test. Decide what to do.
Christina put her hands over her face. She felt so alone—missed Bailey so much. Bailey would listen in that clear-headed way of hers, and tell her what to do. Though Bailey was the younger sister, she had a lot of wisdom.
Christina rolled over, found her cell phone, wiped her eyes, and called Bailey.
Christina was avoiding Grant, he knew. That hurt like hell, but Grant didn’t push it. He’d heard about her plans for moving to Houston, and that hurt too, but she hadn’t gone yet. He’d planned to corner her and talk her out of it, but then her next-door neighbor, Mrs. Kaye, had told Grant Christina had stopped her frantic packing. Maybe she’d had a change of heart.
He needed to make sure the change of heart stuck, and Christina stayed in Riverbend. He had a few ideas how to go about it.
When he found Christina eating alone at Mrs. Ward’s one day after the lunch crowd had drifted away, Grant slid into a chair at her table without apology.
“Hey, how you doing?” he asked.
Christina finished up a plate of vegetables and started on a milkshake. Mrs. Ward made real milkshakes, thick and creamy, and flavored with things like salted caramel or malted milk balls.
“Fine,” Christina said.
“People ask me about you at the bar.” Grant dropped his hat to the empty chair next to him. “As though I know what’s up with you.”
“I’m glad they’re concerned,” Christina said crisply. “You can tell them I’m fine. I talked to Sam, and understand what happened. It’s behind me.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
She was being more abrupt than usual. Christina had plenty of sass, but it was usually good-natured sass. She didn’t go out of her way to hurt people.
Today, she sat shoveling the milkshake into her mouth as if Grant didn’t exist. The way she licked whipped cream off the spoon—that had his heart pounding and his cock tightening.
“You still thinking about leaving town?” Grant asked her.
He wanted to reach over, rip the spoon from her hand, and feed her the whipped cream himself. Then he’d lean and lick the droplets from her lips.
“Haven’t decided,” Christina said, shrugging. “I want to be careful what I choose. I was going to Houston, but I might go up to Dallas instead, see what’s going on there.”
Dallas. Not all the way across the country, but even so, some hours away.
“Who do you know in Dallas?” Grant demanded. She couldn’t just go to another city where she didn’t know anyone and wander around by herself. Dangerous. He wouldn’t let her.
“I have a few friends there. Bailey knows some people too. I’ll be fine.”
She kept saying fine. As though, if she said it enough, it would be true.
“How’s your shoot?” Christina asked, scooping up more milkshake.
Grant set his mouth. “Fine.”
“Oh. Good.”
They sat in silence a few minutes, but it wasn’t companionable. Christina continued to eat, her spoon clinking on the inside of the tall glass.
“Why don’t you come out and watch us?” Grant suggested, trying to soften his voice. “Maybe you can dress up and be one of the passengers on the train. I’ll come by and rob you.”
Christina would probably try to beat him off rather than tamely give up her handbag, but it might be fun.
“Can’t. I just told you, I’m heading up to Dallas.”
His throat tightened. “You mean right now? For how long?”
“Don’t know. I’m going tomorrow to look around.” Christina thunked down her spoon, the glass empty. “I don’t have my whole life planned out to the minute, all right?”
Damn, she