Secrets Of A Shy Socialite. Wendy S. Marcus

Sit down.” He did and Jena repositioned Abbie in his arms. “Keep her head elevated.” He touched the nipple to Abbie’s lips and she latched onto it like she hadn’t eaten in weeks.

      They both stared at their daughter, her eyes closed, the slurping of her contentedly sucking the only sound in the quiet room. It was a moment he’d never forget. And an opportunity to ask a question that’d been gnawing away at him since the morning he’d learned he’d slept with Jena not Jaci. “Why did you do it?” He looked up at Jena who’d taken a seat on the exam table. “Why did you have sex with me knowing I thought you were Jaci?”

      Jena hopped off the exam table and walked over to the small sink. Her back to him she said, “I had a bit of a … fascination with you back in high school.”

      The surprises of the evening just kept on coming.

      She opened a drawer and looked inside. “I joined the astronomy club because of it.” She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “So daddy would buy me a high-powered telescope.”

      She closed one drawer and opened another. “Did you know with the assistance of said high-powered telescope it was possible to see from the walk-in attic in the new wing of our house directly down the hill into your bedroom at your dad’s house?”

      He smiled. No he did not know that. “So you and Jaci—”

      She whipped around. “Not Jaci. Only me. She didn’t know. I swear.”

      Did she think he was mad? Actually, it kind of turned him on to think of her watching him in his bedroom.

      She played with a Band-Aid wrapper. “You did a lot more studying than you let on in school.”

      Because no one gave his dad a free ride so he shouldn’t expect one. Funny how that memory presented itself in his dad’s booming voice.

      “You need to burp her.” Jena came over, spread a cloth on his shoulder and showed him what to do. He breathed in her scent, similar to Jaci but more floral and fresh. He made a mental note of the difference.

      “I did a lot more than study in that room and you know it.” He watched her reaction to that statement and sure enough she started to look away, but not before he caught the tinge of deep pink on her pale cheeks. “You voyeur,” he teased.

      She didn’t apologize or try to explain. “You looked gentle, like you truly cared for each one of them. Sometimes you lit candles.”

      Whatever it took to get the girl of the moment into his bed.

      “Before we’d met up at the bar, I’d had a terrible fight with my brother over him pressuring me to marry a man I didn’t know and had heard terrible things about.”

      Abbie must have sensed his tension because she started to fret. Or maybe it was the burp that followed that’d riled her up. “Good, girl,” Jena said. “Now you can give her some more of the bottle.” He got Abbie set up to finish the bottle on his own. And felt a bit proud of that, as stupid as it may seem.

      “Anyway,” Jena went on. “When the bartender told me to take you home the first thing that popped into my mind wasn’t ‘Ooooh goodie, now’s my chance to get him into bed.’ I wanted to get you home safely. And I figured I’d have a better chance of you coming with me thinking I was Jaci than knowing I was Jena.”

      She had that right. “You made the first move,” Justin pointed out. For what reason he had no idea, just he felt it needed to be said.

      “I know.” She did not look at all repentant. “In your condo, you and me alone, I remembered how good it’d felt to have your hands on me down at the lake. I wanted that again. I wanted more. With you. I didn’t want to lose my virginity to a man I had no feelings for, one who would only be marrying me for my trust fund. I wanted to share the experience with you.”

      Because she’d seen him treat other women gently. Yet he’d been too drunk to notice her inexperience or have a care with her untried body or even protect her. If Abbie wasn’t in his arms he’d have banged his head against the wall until he achieved a level of pain he deserved. Or went unconscious. Whichever came first.

      “Anyway,” she shrugged. “It’s done. And the next time will be better because I’ll know what to expect and hopefully the man I’m with will be telling me how special I am and how good I feel.”

      Justin had spent so much time wondering why she’d done the switcheroo he’d never considered what it must have been like for her. “I’m sorry.”

      “Oh, it’s not your fault,” Jena said.

      Then her words registered. “Next time it will be better.” “When you say ‘next time it will be better’ does that mean you haven’t been with anyone since me?”

      Jena plucked a wooden tongue depressor from a canister on the counter by the sink and tapped it on her palm. “Turns out morning and evening sickness, exhaustion and maneuvering around with a big, fat pregnant belly didn’t put me in much of a mood to go looking for love. Therefore, as of this moment, you remain my one and only,” she said.

      It shouldn’t matter, but he kind of liked being her one and only.