Maureen Child

A Texas-Sized Secret


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as always, a perfect picture. Her startlingly white hair was trimmed into a modern but flattering cut, and her figure was trim, since she had spent most of her life dieting to ensure it. Her jewel-bright blue summer dress looked casually elegant and at the same time served to make Naomi feel like a hag.

      “Is there something wrong, dear?” Vanessa set her Limoges china teacup down onto the table and then folded her hands neatly in her lap.

      There was her opening, Naomi thought, and braced herself to jump right in.

      “Actually, yes, there is,” she admitted, and glanced at her father to see his concerned frown. “You’ve both heard about this Maverick who’s been contacting people in Royal for the last several months?”

      “Distasteful,” Vanessa said primly with a mild shake of her head.

      “I’ll agree with your mother. Whoever it is needs to be apprehended and charged,” her father said. “Prying into people’s private lives is despicable.”

      “He’s caused a lot of trouble,” Toby said and took Naomi’s hand to give it a squeeze.

      Her mother caught the gesture, and her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

      “Maverick contacted me this morning,” Naomi blurted out before she could lose her dwindling nerve entirely.

      “You?” Vanessa lifted one hand to the base of her throat, her fingers sliding through a string of pearls. “Whatever could he do to you?”

      Still frowning, Franklin Price looked from Naomi to Toby and back again. “What is it, girl?”

      Oh, here it comes, she told herself. And once the words were said, everything would change forever. There was no choice. Toby was right—she couldn’t keep hiding her baby bump with loose clothing. There would come a time when the truth just wouldn’t remain hidden.

      “I’m pregnant,” she said flatly, “and Maverick is about to send a video out onto the internet telling everyone.”

      “Pregnant?” Vanessa slumped back against her chair, and now her hand tightened at the base of her throat as if she were trying to massage air into her lungs.

      “Who’s the father?” Franklin’s demand was quiet but no less fierce.

      “Oh, Naomi,” her mother said on a defeated sigh. “How could you let this happen?”

      “Who did this to you?” her father asked again.

      As if she’d been held down against her will, Naomi thought on an internal groan. Oh, she couldn’t tell them about Gio. About how stupid she’d been. How careless. How could she say that the baby’s father was an Italian gigolo with whom she’d spent a single night? But what else could she say?

      They were waiting expectantly, her mother just a little horrified, her father leaning more toward cold anger. She’d proven a disappointment. Again. And it was only going to get worse.

      “I’m the father,” Toby said when she opened her mouth to speak.

      “What?” she whispered, horrified.

      Toby gave her a quick smile, then fixed his gaze on her father. “That’s why I came here with Naomi today. We wanted to tell you together that we’re having a baby and we’re going to be married.”

      Naomi could only stare at him in stunned silence. She hadn’t expected him to do this. And she didn’t know what to do about it now. A ribbon of relief shot whiplike through her, and even as it did, Naomi knew she couldn’t let him do this. As much as she appreciated the chivalry, this was her mess and she’d find a way to—

      “We wanted to tell you before anyone else,” Toby went on smoothly. “Naomi’s going to be living with me at my ranch.”

      “Toby—”

      He didn’t even glance at her. “No point in her staying at her condo in town, so she’s moving to Paradise Ranch in a few days.”

      “But—” She tried to speak again. To correct him. To argue. To say something, but her mother spoke up, effectively keeping Naomi quiet.

      “Living together isn’t something I would usually approve,” she said primly, “but as you’re engaged, I think propriety has been taken care of.”

      Propriety. Naomi had often thought her mother would have been happier living in the Regency period. Where manners were all and society followed strict rules.

      “Engaged.” Her mother said the word again, as if savoring it. “Oh, Naomi, you’re marrying Toby McKittrick. It’s just wonderful.”

      Vanessa rose quickly, moved to stand beside her husband and then actually beamed her pleasure.

      Naomi had never been on the receiving end of that smile before, so it threw her a little. Then she realized exactly what her mother had said. She wasn’t thrilled about the baby, but about her daughter marrying Toby. Handsome. Stable. Wealthy Toby McKittrick. That was the kind of announcement Vanessa Price could get behind.

      And that realization only made Naomi furious. At Toby. She hadn’t expected her parents to be supportive, but having Toby ride to the rescue felt, after that first burst of relief, more than a little annoying. She’d only wanted him here for moral support. Not to sweep in and lie to save her. The whole purpose of coming here to tell her parents the truth was to get it over with.

      Now not only had the moment of truth been postponed, but Toby had added to the mess with a lie she’d eventually have to answer for.

      “Toby—”

      He looked down at her, gave her a smile, then surprised her into being quiet with a quick, hard kiss that left her lips buzzing. Shock rattled her. He’d never kissed her before, and though it hadn’t been a lover’s kiss, it wasn’t exactly a brotherly kiss, either.

      When he was sure she was shocked speechless, he turned to face her parents. “Naomi’s a little upset. She wanted to be the one to tell you about us getting married, but I just couldn’t help myself. And we’re heading over to her place today to start packing for the move, so we wanted to see you first.”

      “Understandable,” Franklin said with an approving nod at Toby, followed by a worried glance at Naomi. “I’ll say, you worried me there for a moment with news of a pregnancy. But since you’re marrying, I’m sure it’s fine.”

      Great. All it had taken to win her parents’ approval was the right marriage. God. Maybe they were in the Regency period.

      “I don’t see your ring,” Vanessa pointed out with a deliberate look at Naomi’s left hand.

      Naomi sighed, then lifted her gaze to Toby as if to demand, this was your idea—fix it.

      Then he did. His way.

      “We’re going right into town to see about that. And if I can’t find what I want there,” Toby announced, “we’ll drive into Houston.” He dropped one arm around Naomi’s shoulders and pulled her up close to him. “But we wanted you to know our news before you heard about Maverick’s video.”

      “No one pays attention to people of that sort,” Vanessa said with assuredness.

      Naomi wondered how she could say it, since the whole town of Royal had been talking about nothing else but Maverick for months. But Vanessa didn’t care to see what she considered ugliness, and it was amazingly easy for her to close her eyes to anything that might disrupt her orderly world.

      “Now, Naomi, don’t you worry over this Maverick person,” her mother said firmly. “You and Toby have done nothing wrong. Perhaps you haven’t done things in the proper order—”

      Meaning, Naomi thought, courtship, engagement, marriage and then a baby. Still, her mother was willing to overlook all that for the happy news that her daughter would finally be settled, with a more than socially acceptable husband. Which meant that when she had to tell them that she absolutely was