Shame the Devil (Portland Devils #3) - Rosalind James Page 0,100

that. Though I don’t know about meals.”

“Well, that’s what I’m here for, right?” she’d said cheerfully. “To handle the day-to-day stuff that gets hard to cope with when you’re overwhelmed. I’m not a gourmet cook, but I’m an expert at putting family dinner on the table. I’ve been doing it for almost twenty years now.” And he’d thought again how lucky he was that she was here.

He also wondered how it was that finding out your one-night stand was pregnant, not to mention getting DNA-tested to see if you were the father, could feel like the most normal part of your day. Jennifer had been absolutely matter-of-fact about it when they’d gone into the clinic. To which she’d driven, because, she’d said, “I have to return this car to the airport anyway.” She hadn’t said, “And you’re not fit to drive,” even though it was probably true. He kept thinking he was normal, and then realizing he’d blanked out.

He said, now, “Who knows about the pregnancy?”

She jumped like the question was a bolt from the blue, which he guessed it was. He’d kind of blurted that out. “My grandpa. Not Dyma, not yet. I didn’t want her to worry.”

“About college,” he guessed.

“About any of it. This is her chance. This is her time.”

He thought, When is it your chance? But he thought he knew. Her chance had been once Dyma went to college. Before she’d realized she’d be pregnant then.

She said, “I need to tell you something. Before we get the results back. I don’t know if now’s a good time, though. I mean, obviously it’s not a good time. It’s a terrible time. But I don’t know when will be a better time.”

“Go ahead.” He tried to smile. “I could use some distraction.”

“It’s a confession,” she said, and he thought, What? She’d stopped taking her pills on purpose, or something?

No, that couldn’t be it. How would she have known the condom would break?

She put him out of his suspense. “I didn’t tell Mark yet. My ex-boyfriend. Partly because the dates are better for it to be you, and partly because …” She trailed off.

“Yeah?” he asked. “Why?” He should be half-crazy about the thing with her. The thing with the baby. But he didn’t seem to have space for it. Too much to think about, and he had to let some of it go.

“Because I’d rather it was you,” she said. “And I feel like I need to let you know that. Otherwise, it feels like a guilty secret. I’m wishing it’s you. And I know you’re thinking it’s because you’re richer, but I don’t think so. There’s a maximum amount of child support I’d get anyway. It’s not like I could live on it. Although you’d probably be more likely to pay it, so there’s that. I wouldn’t expect you to be involved with the baby much, either. It’s not like you wanted it.”

He thought, That’s good, because I’d be a lousy father.

She went on, “It’s not even because you’re better-looking. Mark is good-looking, too. You’re one of those beautiful people, though, the ones other people stare at just because they enjoy looking at you. So is Dyma. And I’m not sure that’s always so helpful.”

He didn’t say that he didn’t know what she was talking about. He said, “It opens some doors. You can probably skate on it some, to be honest.”

“It can make you lazy,” she said. “Entitled. Things come too easily, and they always have, so you don’t know the difference. People smile at you more. They pay more attention to you. They give you the benefit of the doubt. It’s good that you played football. I’m guessing you don’t get handed much in football.”

“Nope. You don’t.” This was a weird conversation to have on the day your whole life story had been upended, but it was distracting, he guessed.

“It can make you less kind, too,” she said, “because you don’t struggle enough, and you don’t understand how much other people do.”

“Probably,” he said. “Not sure I see that in Dyma.”

“I hope not. I tried, and so did my mom. Dyma’s beautiful and brilliant, though, and I don’t think I’m just saying that because I’m her mom.”

“No,” he said. “I don’t think you are.”

“She has so many gifts. She’s mostly a hard worker in school, but that’s because she’s so passionate about her interests and she wants to learn more, not because she’s got that … drudge factor. Which I have, so I know the