Dance Away with Me - Susan Elizabeth Phillips Page 0,71
could see that, just as he could see Tess wouldn’t accept it.
Her shoulders shot back. “Bianca would have been a single mother.”
“If Wren’s mother had lived, Simon would have done the right thing,” his father said firmly. “You don’t seem to have a stable lifestyle, and I’m guessing you’re not secure financially. As we understand it, you’re working in a coffee shop. Grandparents might be second best, but there are two of us, and there’s only one of you.”
Tess stared at him. Blinked. She’d reached the end. She had no more arguments. She turned to Ian, but there was nothing he could say to fix this, and he hated that. He also hated the way she was frowning at him, as if this were somehow his fault, which maybe it was, since he was the one who’d dragged her into this mess.
She looked directly at him and shook her head. “You didn’t tell them.”
He felt an unpleasant chill at the back of his neck.
She took a quick step toward him. “We’d planned to take our time. Tell our families first. But I can see that’s not going to work.”
“Tess . . .”
She ignored the warning note in his voice. Instead, she hooked her hand through his arm, speaking quickly. “We intended to wait until next year, but if it’s that important to you, we can get married earlier. Look at us. We’re upstanding people. Ian’s at the top of his profession. His only criminal record is tied to his early career, and look how well that’s served him. He’s clean and sober. Richer than anyone deserves to be. More than that . . .” Her throat moved as she swallowed. “He loves Wren, and he’d never do anything to hurt her. You should see them together. It’s like they’re one person. He feeds her, takes her on walks. Her favorite place to sleep is on his chest. Sometimes I have to make him give her back to me.”
He shook himself out of his paralysis. “Tess!”
She dead-eyed him. “I know we agreed not to tell anyone, but we don’t have that choice now.” She spun back to the Dennings. “Two parents. Two stable, loving, involved parents. Neither of whom is a deadbeat or a child molester. Isn’t that what you want for her?”
To his horror, they hesitated, looking suddenly confused. Tess had plunged him into the most god-awful mess he could never have imagined, and while he was trying to sort through his options, she went in for the kill.
“What does another day matter?”
Another day for what?
She took a deep, unsteady breath. “Take her with you. For tonight. There’s a bed and breakfast right up the highway. They always have room, and you’ll be comfortable there.” She plunged on. Not letting anyone get a word in. “You have her things. You’ll be able to hold her as much as you want and think about what I’ve told you. You can look into your hearts and decide what’s best for her. For her. Not for you.”
She made this weird shooing motion with her hands, as if she were swatting away chickens. “Go on, you two. I’ll call the Purple Periwinkle and tell them to have their best room ready for you.” She grabbed Wren from him. “Be good to Grandma and Grandpa, sweetheart. Mommy loves you.” She kissed Wren’s head, ducked into the backseat of the Lexus, and buckled her in.
Her head popped back out. “I’ll fix breakfast for all of us tomorrow morning. Ian makes the best coffee, and my eggs Benedict are to die for. Let’s say ten o’clock. That way you can all sleep in. There! That’s decided.”
Jeff and Diane both had a deer-in-headlights look, and Ian could only imagine his own expression. But Tess was so forceful, so competent, so commanding—the fools did exactly as she said.
Jeff inched toward the driver’s side. “Well, if you’re sure . . .”
“Of course. Easy peasy,” the woman known as Tess Hartsong chirped. She opened the passenger-side door for Diane with one hand and pushed her in with the other. “Go on, now. Enjoy her.”
The next thing Ian knew, Tess was waving like a fool at the Dennings’ Lexus as it disappeared down the road.
He grabbed her by the shoulders. “You! Inside! Now.”
Chapter Thirteen
Tess wanted to race after the car. Grab it by the bumper like Supergirl and bring it to a screeching halt. What if Wren decided not to cry her little heart out from four in the afternoon until six?