It's Never too Late - By Tara Taylor Quinn Page 0,71

town.”

“She doesn’t know how to drive?”

“She knows how. She drove drunk and lost it.”

Addy wasn’t up on DUI law, but she knew enough to know that the woman must have done something pretty severe to lose her driving privileges.

“While she was dating Mark?”

“Before. She’s got another year before she gets it back.”

“Someone could have driven her.”

“And then it wouldn’t be a secret no more.” Nonnie was clearly in denial. “Mark also says she told her ma about the baby,” the older woman continued, “and if she did the entire town would know by now. It’s not on Facebook, and Bertie hasn’t heard about it, which she would’ve if Ella was pregnant.”

“Ella asked her mom to keep quiet until she knew what she and Mark were going to do about the baby.”

“Ha!” Nonnie’s blue-veined hands didn’t miss a beat as she completed a tray of what would soon be chocolate chip cookies, pushed it aside and pulled another one in front of her. “Dot ain’t kept a secret since she was born. I’ve known that girl all her life and if she had any idea that her Ella finally got my Mark locked down I’d have been getting phone calls within the hour.”

“But Ella hasn’t decided whether or not she’s going to marry Mark.”

“’Cause she knows she ain’t pregnant. If she was, that would be enough reason to spread it around. Everyone knows Mark would do the right thing and marry her.”

“If you thought she was pregnant, would you expect that, too?” She was just curious.

And anxious to finish baking Mark’s favorite cookies—a job she’d volunteered for so that Nonnie wouldn’t be lugging trays in and out of the oven alone. She rolled a little faster so that she could get back to work.

“No, I would not,” the woman said succinctly. “Much as I want that boy to settle down with a real family of his own, I know he wouldn’t be happy with Ella, and a kid doesn’t need to grow up in a household lacking joy.”

During their morning visit, Nonnie had told her she was going to bake cookies. Mark had been working long hours and still had homework to do and a test to study for the next day—his first big exam according to Nonnie—and she’d wanted a treat waiting for him when he got home.

To give him energy to do his schoolwork, she’d said.

And Addy had volunteered to help.

“Don’t you think Mark should be the one to decide what makes him happy?”

“Nope.”

Addy didn’t agree, but she wasn’t going to argue, either.

“That boy is a rare one,” the woman continued. “He makes one mistake in his life—an understandable one if you ask me—and he spends the rest of his life afraid to think of himself ’cause he’s afraid to make the same mistake twice.”

Addy’s fingers slowed and then started up again. She didn’t want those piercing eyes turned on her. Didn’t want to become any more entangled with the Hebers and their challenges and their sense of justice that so closely mirrored her own.

Didn’t want to feel as though she was a part of them. As though she’d come home.

But she couldn’t help or change her feeling that what Nonnie had said was completely, one hundred percent correct.

She couldn’t help believing that Mark Heber wasn’t just being a gentleman, doing the right thing, by offering to marry Ella. He was martyring himself because he’d been a scared kid who’d run away from home when he’d found out his grandmother was sick.

“You got to stop him.”

The soft ball in Addy’s fingers flattened. Nonnie was staring at her. Not even blinking.

“What?”

“He’s got a thing for you. Any fool could see it, and where my boy is concerned, I’m no fool. You could stop him from ruining his life.”

“Me? What can I do?”

“Sleep with him, that’s what. If he sleeps with you, he’d have to give in to those feelin’s he’s got for you. Besides, once things get intimate, he’ll feel beholden to you, too.”

“Except that she’s pregnant and I’m not.”

“She ain’t, either. He’s just feeling guilty ’cause he slept with her and then left her high and dry.”

Was there truth to that? Was Mark’s conscience making him prey to an avaricious woman who wanted him at any cost?

He’d said he wasn’t sure he believed Ella about being pregnant.

He’d also told her he wanted to make love with her. He told her with his glances, his body language, every single time they were together.

And she probably told him, too. Lord knew,

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