Chapter 9

Jake drummed his fingers on the steering wheel Friday night and waited for the car in front of him to move. Traffic on I-95 hadn't budged in five minutes which only added to his current state of frustration.

Thanks to a combination of bad luck and a hectic schedule, he and Charlie had played phone tag on Thursday. Or at least he told himself that was why they hadn't spoken. His subconscious kept telling him a different story. While she had returned two of his calls and left messages when he didn't answer, she had not gone out of her way to reach him. Did that mean she was avoiding him? Had she already learned about the situation with Blair?

The uncertainty had been making him edgy all day. Earlier he'd nearly snapped Cindy's head off when she'd asked if he'd finished some reports. He'd immediately apologized, but he still felt like a complete ass. She didn't deserve to receive the brunt of his temper.

When he pulled into the parking lot of the bed and breakfast an hour later the outside lights welcomed him. Jake carefully maneuvered his rental car in between a Prius and Charlie's Jeep then killed the engine. For a moment he considered leaving his bag in the car. If Charlie had seen the magazine article she might tell him to get lost. Even if she hadn't seen it, once he explained the situation she might decide being involved with him wasn't worth the headache and show him to the door.

How much easier life would be if he hadn't been born a Sherbrooke. Once again Jake found himself envying his half-sister Callie who had grown up not knowing the truth about her father. In so many ways she'd had a better life than him, though he'd never admit that to anyone. If he did, it would make him look like a complete ass. People saw all the privilege and opportunities he had. They didn't see the paparazzi who shadowed him just waiting for a juicy story. Or the people who used their association with him only to satisfy their own agendas.

Get off the pity train. Jake climbed out of the car and started to close his door. At the last minute he pulled it open again and grabbed his bag from the back seat.

The sweet smell of fresh apple pie greeted him when he walked in. Immediately his mouth watered. He had breakfast but meetings kept him busy through lunch and his dinner on the plane had been less than satisfying.

Closing the door behind him, Jake looked around. The dining room to his left as well as the sitting room to his right were empty, but he could hear voices coming from the back of the house. He decided to head in that direction when Maureen O'Brien walked down the hall toward him wearing her flowered apron.

“Jake, it's nice to see you again. Charlie said you were coming up this weekend.” Maureen gave him a motherly hug. “We just ate, but if you're hungry I can make you something.” Her soft spoken voice and warm embrace instantly made him feel at home.

“It’s good to see you too. If you have any leftovers that'll be fine.”

Maureen started toward the kitchen and nodded for him to follow. “Follow me. Charlie's putting the leftovers away now.”

Jake hesitated for a second. Charlie was his only reason for being here, and he hated not knowing what to expect from her. Would she throw him out the minute she saw him? Or would she give him a chance to explain. Only one way to find out.

Charlie stood at the counter covering plates of food with plastic wrap. From where he stood it looked like roast beef and roasted potatoes, and there was half an apple pie on the counter near the coffee pot. Immediately his mouth began to water. He'd always been a meat-and-potatoes kind of man. Fancy dishes that looked as if they belonged in a museum of modern art were fine on occasion but nothing could beat a good steak or roast.

“Sit down, Jake. I'll fix you a plate,” Maureen said as she took a clean plate from the cupboard.

Jake stopped near the kitchen table but didn't pull out a chair. Instead he waited for Charlie to turn and acknowledge him. So far she hadn't even said hello. As the seconds ticked by his stomach clenched in dread. He opened his mouth to ask if he could speak with Charlie alone when she whipped around and took the plate from her mom.

“I'll do it. You've been busy all day, Ma. I can finish up in here.” Charlie looked over in his direction for a brief second. With her face devoid of any emotion, there was no way for him to tell what thoughts were running through her mind

She didn't toss you out on your ass. It's a start.

Maureen didn't argue. Instead she removed her flowered apron then hung it up on the hook by the door. “Jake, I'll take your bag up on my way. I put you in the Hawthorne room again.”

“Thank you.” Jake waited until Maureen left before speaking again. “Hey.” He kept his tone natural. He figured it was best to let her set the tone of the conversation. “How have you been?”

Charlie shrugged as she arranged several slices of meat on the plate. “Things around here are returning to normal. I think I'll head back to Virginia soon.”

After heating the food in the microwave, she carried it to the table. “There's plenty more if you're still hungry after this.”

Although the aromas drifting up from the plate had caused his stomach to growl, he didn't reach for the food. Before he did anything he needed to explain things. “We need to talk.” Charlie's less than enthusiastic greeting suggested she'd seen or heard about Blair. Still he didn't know for sure so Jake assumed the best place to start was the beginning. Pulling out a chair he gestured for her to have a seat.

Charlie didn't say anything. Rather she took a deep breath then slowly exhaled before sitting down. “Do you remember me mentioning a reporter named Marcy Blake?” Jake asked sitting down next to her. He wanted to reach for her but forced his hands to remain on the table.

She nodded yes but her face remained emotionless.

“She did an article on me in this week's edition of Today magazine.” Jake wished she’d give some hint of her feelings.

“I know. I read it.” He heard just the barest hint of anger in her voice. “They picked a great picture of you for the cover.”

Okay, so she knows. Now the important question is, will she believe me? Jake leaned forward in his chair as he fought down his anger. The article had not painted him in a good light. “Blair and I dated for several months, but I ended things with her almost 3 months ago after I got back from a month in England.”

Charlie folded her arms across her chest and her face went grim. “Is that when she told you she was pregnant?”

For a moment his temper flared. He knew the article claimed he walked out after she broke the news to him. “No. I only heard about it when I was up here. And it can't be true. If she's pregnant the baby isn't mine.”

Next to him, the rigidness in her body relaxed but the guarded expression remained.

“The last time we slept together was more than four months ago. Wouldn't she have known before last week that she was pregnant?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Everyone is different. Or she might have just waited to tell you.”

By the cold tone of her voice, Jake knew she hadn't accepted his side of the story. Somehow though he needed to convince her. “Since you're the doctor I'm not going to argue about her knowing sooner. But we always used protection and if it is mine why won't she have the paternity test done? She won't even agree to an ultrasound to determine how far along she is.” If he'd had any doubts about the baby being his, Blair's lack of cooperation proved to him that either she wasn't pregnant or she wasn't far enough along for it to be his.

Charlie's eyebrows came together in confusion. “I can understand her not wanting DNA tests done before the baby is born. There are some risks involved doing it prenatally. An ultrasound is harmless though.” As she spoke she unfolded her arms and rested her hands on the table just inches away from his hands.

“Our lawyers have talked multiple times. She refuses. Of course Marcy Blake didn't mention any of that in the article.” Jake picked up his fork and stabbed a piece of meat wishing it was the reporter's head instead.

Jake ate as he waited for Charlie to respond. Even though he was anxious to know her thoughts, he didn't want to push her. Regardless of what he told her, it still came down to his word against the media. A dull ache formed around his heart. Maybe if they'd known each other longer she would be more willing to accept his side of the story.

After finishing half the meat on his plate, Jake turned his attention to the roasted potatoes. He had a forkful in his mouth when Charlie finally spoke.

“What are you going to do next?” Her voice sounded more normal. Much of the coldness he'd heard before was gone. “You could wait till the baby is born.”

He swallowed the food and shrugged. “I don't know yet. My lawyer is looking into my options.” Jake didn't want to discuss how he was going to handle this problem with Blair. Instead he wanted to know where he stood with her. Eventually everything with Blair would be settled even if it did take several months. But he needed to know if she believed him enough to stick around and learn the truth. “I'm meeting with him again next week.”

Charlie fell silent again and Jake could almost see her brain processing everything as she studied him.

“Charlie I know you have no reason to believe me.” He reached out, lacing her fingers with his. “But if I thought the baby could be mine, I'd try to smooth things over with Blair. I would want to be a part of my child's life. But I don't believe her. The timing is all wrong, and she's too uncooperative.”

SHE WANTED TO BELIEVE HIM. Everything she'd learned about him so far told her that he wasn't the type of man who would abandon a child. Then again her mother had probably thought the same thing about her father. At the same time she couldn't help but think of the scandal from the previous year with Jake's half-sister Callie. Sure Warren Sherbrooke claimed Callie's mother never told him about the pregnancy. Who really knew the truth though? Callie's mom was dead. Had it been a similar situation? Was Jake merely following in his father's footsteps?

On the other hand all the evidence he'd given her did seem to support Jake's claim, and since their first meeting he hadn't given her any reason not to trust him.

Why would his ex lie about this though? Blair had to know the truth would come out at some point. There was no way it wouldn't.

“If you want me to leave just say the word.” He released her hand and pushed his chair back. The sound of the chair legs scraping across the tile floor was the only sound in the room.

She caught the hurt in his voice and knew she'd caused it. So far she hadn't given him any indication of where she stood on the issue and she probably wasn't the only one doubting him right now.

You're having fun with him, not marrying him. If it turns out he's lying it's not your problem. Charlie reached for his hand and tried to block out the nagging voice in her head that kept telling her if it did turn out to be true she'd be devastated.

“No. I want you to stay.”

He squeezed her fingers tightly. “You believe me?” There was a slight tinge of wonder in his voice.

Pushing aside the tiny inkling of doubt, she nodded. “You haven't given me any reason not to.”

For the first time since arriving, a true smile spread across Jake's face and Charlie nearly forgot to breathe. He always looked handsome, but his smile had a magnetism all its own. It almost seemed unfair to the entire female population. Honestly, how could any woman resist him?

“I missed you. I couldn't wait to get up here this weekend to see you.” As he spoke he caressed her palm with his thumb. The gentle touch sent shivers up her arm.

“Missed me or my mom's cooking? You seemed to enjoy that quite a bit when you were here last time.” She couldn't help but tease him because it accomplished two things. One it lightened the atmosphere, and two it drew her attention away from the feelings his admission sparked in her. True, men she'd dated in the past had told her they missed her but the words had never made her feel all warm and tingly before. Jake's words did just that.

“Both, but maybe the cooking just a bit more.” Jake answered with a trace of laughter in his voice.

She couldn't stop herself from laughing as she stood and walked over to the counter where a half of a pie sat. “I should've known. Nobody can compete with Ma’s pot roast and apple pie.” Charlie sliced two pieces of pie and carried them over. “It's a good thing you haven't tried her pecan pie. She'd probably never get you to leave then.”

“I wouldn't stick around for pecan. Never liked it. But if she makes pumpkin or blueberry, that's another story.”

CHARLIE CLIMBED out of bed the next morning before Jake awoke. Part of her wanted nothing more than to cuddle up next to him and go back to sleep herself, but at the same time she didn't want anyone to see her leaving his room. She suspected her mom and brother knew he'd come back to see her, but neither had outright asked her. After all, she had spent the weekend in Newport with him. Still that didn't mean she wanted either of them to see her coming out of his room. So after one more glance at Jake, she slipped out the door and headed up to her room.

When she walked into the kitchen two hours later showered and dressed, she expected to find her mom preparing breakfast. Instead she found her mom sitting across the table from a dark-haired woman dressed in a powder blue sheath dress and matching blazer. A basket of fresh blueberry muffins was in the middle of the table and a mug of coffee sat in front of each woman.

Instantly the hairs on the back of Charlie's neck went up. She didn't recognize the woman but the small notepad in front of her suggested that she was a reporter which meant her presence had something to do with Jake. Why else would a reporter be sitting in her mother's kitchen drinking coffee and eating muffins?

Hoping to alert Jake before he came through the door, Charlie turned to leave just as her mother looked over and saw her standing in the doorway.

“Good you're up. You should be able to help Ms. Blake since you've spent a lot of time with Jake. She's doing an article about The Falmouth Foundation for her magazine.”

It took all of Charlie's control not to groan when she heard the name of the woman. “I can try. We worked together a lot right after the hurricane.” Charlie didn't know for certain but she suspected the reporter’s reason for being there had nothing to do with Jake's foundation. “The town wouldn't have started to recover so quickly without the Falmouth Foundation.”

“I'm hoping to get some insight into Jake Sherbrooke the man, not just his organization. People know a lot about the Falmouth Foundation and all the good it does already. They're more interested in Jake himself. They want to know what makes a man like that tick.”

As the reporter explained her purpose for doing the article she smiled. While Charlie assumed the smile was meant to make her feel comfortable, it had the opposite effect. The smile made Charlie feel like some kind of prey and the reporter was getting ready to move in for the kill.

I bet they do, Charlie thought as a surge of protectiveness swept through her. What people wanted was more gossip, something she had no intention of giving. “Sorry. I can't tell you much. I didn't get a chance to really know him. I can tell you he's a hard worker. He did whatever needed to be done. He even boarded up windows,” Charlie said with just the right amount of regret in her voice. “Maybe you can talk to some other people in town.”

Marcy Blake's smile changed ever so slightly and her eyes narrowed. “Your mom mentioned you went to Newport with him for his sister's wedding. You must have gotten to know him a little during that time.”

Nice going Ma. One of these days her mother's willingness to talk to anyone was going to get her into trouble. Charlie couldn't think of a good reply to the reporter's statement. Denying she had gone wouldn't work. Not only would she be saying her mother lied, but it seemed probable that the reporter could confirm it on her own. “We spent most of our time with his family. Family seems very important to him.”

As she tried to think of other general items she could use to satisfy the reporter, she listened for approaching footsteps. With every minute that went by it became more likely that Jake would walk in looking for breakfast. She knew the last person he'd want to see seated at the kitchen table was Marcy Blake.

“How serious are things between you and him?” Marcy asked turning to an empty page in her notepad.

Like I would ever tell you. “We're friends,” Charlie answered, pleased at how nonchalant she sounded.

Across the table her mother waved a hand in the air dismissing Charlie's comment. “She doesn't believe me. I keep telling her he wouldn't have come up here this weekend if they were just friends. Don't you agree? Men don't drive that far more than once in a week to see friends.”

Charlie envisioned herself stuffing the dish towel hanging from the stove in her mother's mouth. At this rate her mother was going to give the reporter enough information to write an entire book not just a single article.

“He's here now?”

Charlie could almost see the reporter's radar go up, and before she could reply her mom offered up an answer.

“He got here last night. I think he plans on staying till Monday. Right, Charlie?'

She wasn't positive but she thought she heard the reporter mutter ‘interesting’ as she scribbled something down on her pad. Her instincts told her she should ask the reporter to leave, but she held back. If she did, the nosy reporter would assume she was hiding something and that may only make things worse for Jake. So instead she poured herself a coffee and sat down at the table. If nothing else maybe she could run interference with some of the questions. Otherwise who knew what her mother might tell the reporter.

“So you're the woman that people saw him playing mini-golf with in Newport.” This time the reporter directed her question right at her.

Charlie found it unsettling to have people referring to her, yet it shouldn't shock her. After all she spent the weekend with a man that the media considered an international playboy. “We went for ice cream and decided to play a round.” Charlie tried to keep her voice level and devoid of any emotion.

Marcy Blake scribbled something down on her notepad. “Has he told you how he feels about becoming a father?”

Charlie's knuckles turned white as she gripped her coffee mug. No matter what answer she gave it would come off sounding bad. “If he ever has kids someday, I'm sure he'll be a great father. Like I said he seems big into family.”

“You mean when,” Marcy replied raising one of her manicured eyebrows. “His ex-girlfriend Blair Peters is expecting. Didn't he tell you?”

Charlie pictured herself tossing the coffee mug at Marcy's head as she debated how to reply. Engaging in a pissing match with the woman would accomplish nothing, but she still couldn't resist the urge to defend Jake. “So she says. Now unless you have any questions about the work Mr. Sherbrooke did here, you should go. My mother and I have a lot to do this morning before the guests come down for breakfast.”

Marcy Blake closed her notepad and stuffed it into her Coach bag. “Of course. I have some other stops to make before I leave town anyway.” Marcy gave them both a blinding white smile. “Thank you both for your time.”

Charlie released the death grip on her coffee mug and stood. “I'll show you out.” She didn't trust the woman and wouldn't put it past her to wander around the house looking to talk to other guests or to run into Jake himself.