With Child by Janice Kay Johnson

Author:Janice Kay Johnson
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2005-08-11T20:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

“WHAT IN HELL do you think you’re doing?” Quinn couldn’t believe his eyes. His day had gone south with a frantic call from a mother who’d found her kid beaten to death. Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending on your point of view—finding and arresting a suspect hadn’t taken as long as booking him. Still, he was two hours late home. He’d stopped to pick up a pizza and was just walking in the door.

Mindy was apparently just on her way out the door. Clutching a pillow.

“Pizza.” She looked at the box with longing. “I can warm some up when I get back.”

He ground his teeth. Did the words bed rest mean nothing to her? “Back from where?”

“My Lamaze class is tonight.”

“Lamaze.” He had the vague impression that Lamaze had something to do with puffing and panting. The purpose escaped him.

“Yes. You know.” One of Mindy’s hands fluttered. “Getting ready for childbirth?”

“Won’t your doctor be doing a C-section?” He’d done some research.

Mindy shook her head. “She’ll induce labor as soon as she thinks it’s safe. But she’d rather the baby be born naturally.”

Quinn didn’t move from his position blocking the door. “You can’t go out.”

“Yes. I can.” She looked steamed. “Quinn, I’m a big girl. You’ve been wonderful, but I don’t need a daddy to tell me what to do.”

His jaw tightened. “Expressing a little common sense makes me overbearing?”

She let out an exasperated puff of air. “I’ve been in bed all day. I even ate lunch in bed! I won’t be gone an hour and a half. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

“I’ll drive you,” he heard himself say.

Her expression softened. “You don’t need to. Really.”

Had she looked at herself in the mirror lately? Her stomach was so enormous, she waddled. He’d seen her struggle just to get out of a chair.

“I don’t know how the hell you’d reach the gas pedal by the time you put your seat back enough to get that belly behind the steering wheel.” He was wary enough to recognize the mutinous flare on her face. Quinn cleared his throat and moderated his tone. “I’ll feel better if you let me drive.”

“I feel like a teenager who’s been grounded.” Her lower lip looked as sulky as a teenager’s, too. She sighed again. “Fine. But we have to go now.”

“I’ll stick the pizza in the fridge.” He hoped she didn’t hear his stomach rumble.

He half expected her to bolt, but she was waiting when he hurried back to the front door. He gestured her out onto the porch and locked the door behind them. For a minute, he thought she was going to protest when he opened the passenger door for her, but all she did was mumble, “I feel like a beached whale,” as she set the pillow on the floor, gripped the door frame and lowered herself to the seat.

He followed her directions to a community center housed in a retired school building on Beacon Hill. The parking lot for El Centro de la Raza, surrounded by a ramshackle chain-link fence, was full of shadows behind Dumpsters and in stairwells.

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