Having Justin's Baby

“Well, it doesn’t help that some women buy into that crap. Maybe our problem was about sex. But if sex was so important to our relationship, he shouldn’t have told me he understood my reasons for wanting to wait until we were married to sleep together.”

“You never had sex with Michael!” It was a statement, not a question.

Paige gasped. “I can’t believe I told you that.”

“It’s okay. I’ll treat it as a confidence. You have my word.” Stacy made a cross over her heart with her right index finger.

“I’ve always believed that I would only have sex with one man—the one I married. It was a gift I wanted to give my husband on our wedding night. That’s why Michael and I were waiting until we were married…or at least I was waiting. He was obviously doing it with Chelsea.” Paige took another sip of her punch then asked, “Do you think if I had been sleeping with Michael, he would have still run off with her?”

“Now you’re starting to sound like one of those women who believe the crap men are peddling. You and Michael had an agreement. He broke it. It’s that simple. Case closed.”

“You’re right. Even if we did have sex, he might have still run off with Chelsea.”

“Exactly.” Stacy lifted her glass in acknowledgment. “There’s no excuse for his behavior.”

“I can’t believe he dumped me like that. He could have at least told me face-to-face. He’s chickenshit. And pig shit, too.” She giggled.

“He’s afraid of heights,” Stacy reminded her.

“And bees. He runs like a girl when he sees one. He told me it’s because he’s allergic to them, but I think he’s just afraid.”

“He’s vain. Have you noticed how he can’t pass a mirror without admiring himself?”

With each sip of the fruit drink Paige found it easier to find fault with her ex-fiancé. By the time she was on her third glass of Stacy’s special concoction, she was convinced she’d been unhappy with him.

“Now aren’t you glad you’re not going to marry the man?” Stacy asked.

“Yeeeesss! I’m happy he’s gone and I hope I never have to see him again!” she proclaimed in a loud voice as she stretched her arms toward the sky.

“Didn’t I tell you I’d get you to see the positive side of him leaving?”

“Yes, and thank you, thank you, thank you,” she said, bowing theatrically. “Oooh—look, our fire is going out.”

“Got anything you want to burn? Maybe some pictures?” Stacy asked, arching an eyebrow.

Paige snapped her fingers. “That’s it. I’m going to burn his pictures. Watch my drink for me.” She disappeared inside the trailer and returned with a handful of snapshots in one hand and a cardboard box in the other. She tossed the photos onto the fire and watched them burn. “Good riddance.”

“What’s in the box?” Stacy asked.

Paige removed the lid and a pile of papers floated onto the flames. “Scorecards from our golf games. He wanted me to save them. Nobody cares about your stupid golf scores, Michael!” she shouted into the fire.

“Feel better?” Stacy asked.

“I feel great!” She ran back into the trailer and came out waving a piece of paper.

“What’s that?”

“It’s my Top Ten list…you know, my list of the ten most important traits a guy needs to have to be a good boyfriend. I thought Michael had all ten, but it turns out he was missing the most important one.”

“Which is?”

“A guy should be trustworthy.” She tossed the paper into the fire and made several more trips into the trailer, each time coming out with more things to burn. But it was the last article that brought Stacy to her feet. Folded over Paige’s arm was her wedding gown.

“I have one last thing to get rid of. I just bought this today. Can you believe that? Today of all days. I buy my wedding dress and my fiancé runs off with another woman.”

Alarmed, Stacy rose to her feet. “You’re not thinking of putting that in the fire, are you?”

“Sure. Why not? I’m never going to wear it.”

JUSTIN’S ROAD TRIP went about as well as his day had gone. After being stuck in rush-hour traffic leaving St. Paul, he’d hit road construction that caused another delay and made him wish he’d ordered more than a super-size soda when he stopped at a fast-food drive-thru. Other than three Salted Nut Roll candy bars he’d found in the glove compartment of his pickup, he’d had nothing to eat since lunch, which was why as soon as he reached Paige’s he planned to take her out somewhere decent for dinner. She could pour her heart out to him just as easily over a thick, juicy prime cut of beef as she could over a burger. But if she wanted fast food, he would sacrifice the steak.

Thinking of being with her had him pushing the pedal a little closer to the metal. As the sun went down and the air cooled, he turned off his air-conditioning and rolled down the windows, loving the feel of the breeze rushing through the cab of his pickup. He turned up the volume on his CD player so the sounds of the Dave Matthews Band blared in stereo all around him. The music was so loud he didn’t hear the siren. It wasn’t until he glanced into his rearview mirror and saw the flashing red light that he knew he’d been a little too eager to get to see Paige. He cursed under his breath and pulled off onto the shoulder of the highway.

“Is there a problem, Officer?” he asked in his good-citizen voice.

“Know how fast you were driving?” the policeman asked.

“Sixty-five?” Justin ventured to guess.

“Eighty-two. Could I see your driver’s license, please?”

Justin didn’t miss the way the officer’s eyes scanned the cab of the pickup. Surely there was nothing suspicious about a guy’s having three empty candy wrappers and a super-size beverage cup from a fast-food restaurant on his front seat. So why was the man’s face wrinkling as if there was?

“Are those your shoes?” he asked, pointing to the pair of athletic shoes on the passenger-side mat.

“Yes.”

“You’re not driving barefoot, are you?”

“No. I have on sandals.”

“Step out of the vehicle, please.”

Justin climbed out, smoothing down the wrinkles of his khaki shorts as he unfolded his long legs. The officer looked at his feet, then back up at his shirt. Justin was grateful he wasn’t wearing a T-shirt with some irreverent saying on the front. It was only because experience had taught him it would be wise not to challenge the authority of anyone wearing a badge and carrying a gun that he managed to stay calm and wait for the officer to issue the ticket. As he pondered his situation, he thought it was a good thing that Michael Cross had left town or else Justin might have kicked his skinny little ass when he got to the resort.

But he didn’t want to waste time thinking about the weasel. Paige was the one he worried about. He hoped she was all right. Knowing her, he expected to find her at home cleaning her tiny trailer. That’s what she usually did when she was stressed—organized her cupboards and drawers. She loved to put things in order, especially when her mind was in turmoil.

Paige wasn’t like most women he knew. She got angry and got over it. She didn’t dwell on the bad stuff. She couldn’t. It just wasn’t in her nature. And she rarely resorted to tears. That’s why today when he’d heard her voice crack with emotion he knew that this breakup was different from others. And that was the reason he had immediately jumped in his pickup and hit the road. She needed him.

Yes, it was only as a friend, but that was the way it had always been and he’d accepted it could be no other way a long time ago. Even if Paige had given him any indication that she wanted to take their friendship to the next level—and she hadn’t—he wouldn’t have been able to follow through on it. The reason they’d been able to stay close for so long was because early on in their friendship they’d agreed that no matter how tempting it might be to test the waters of romance, they were first and foremost friends. It was why Kyle hadn’t acted upon his adolescent crush on Paige. And why neither of them would ever know of his love for her.

Justin couldn’t risk losing her. If she were to ever find out that he had feelings for her, she might withdraw emotionally. It was the kind of revelation that once it was out there, you could never take it back. He’d been friends too long with Kyle and Paige to take such a chance.

So Justin’s was the shoulder Paige cried on when she needed one—which was seldom. More often she simply used him as a sounding board. Although he knew she had a soft center, she’d spent most of her life showing the world how tough she could be. She’d get angry, talk about the problem, then get over it and move on. It was one of the things he loved about her. Her resiliency. That and the fact that she wasn’t the kind for emotional outbursts. He could use some of that self-control himself as the officer handed him a speeding ticket.

By the time he reached the campground where she was staying it was dark. He’d only been to her place once—when he and Kyle had helped her move. He followed the dirt road that wound through the campground, looking closely at the numbers that identified the different sites.

But he didn’t need a number to point out where Paige lived. She was standing on a lawn chair swinging a wedding dress around as if she was getting ready to toss it into the campfire. “What the…” he mumbled to himself as he scurried out of the truck.