- Home
- Rhonda Lee Carver
With Honor Page 7
With Honor Read online
Page 7
“Vaginal probe?” Shawn didn’t like where this was heading, literally.
“The probe doesn’t hurt the mother or the baby. Rest assured, it’s all worth it,” Doctor Freedmon said in a calm voice. Shawn was stuck somewhere between large probe in vagina and feeling a little confused when the screen flickered with blobbed black and white images. “There’s the baby.” The doctor pointed at one of the brighter masses.
“Great, honey, we’re having a blob,” Shawn joked.
Neither Jasmine nor Doctor Freedmon laughed. In fact, Jasmine’s eyes were misted with tears.
“Look closer.” Doctor Freedmon proceeded to show them the outline of a mermaid-looking shadow. “And here is the heartbeat.”
Shawn’s world came to a stand-still. In this tiny little gray figure was a heartbeat. The heartbeat of a Conner. Shane’s memory would live on, even if he wouldn’t. He heard a sniffle and looked down to find Jasmine’s cheeks wet with tears. She attempted to wipe them away, but they seemed to fall quicker than she could clear them.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Finding a box of tissues, he grabbed several and handed them to her.
Blotting her eyes, she looked up at him. “I…I don’t know what’s wrong.”
“Are you sad?” Searching his mind for what he should do to help, he felt useless. Seeing a woman cry ate through him. He wasn’t equipped to handle that emotion. Glancing across Jasmine’s horizontal figure, he narrowed his eyes on the doctor. “Hey, Doc, what’d you do? Did you hurt her? You said this wouldn’t hurt.” His tough, protective character came swirling to head.
Jasmine laid a hand on his forearm. “Shane, it doesn’t hurt. And I’m not sad. I’m happy. I don’t think I knew how happy until I saw our baby.”
“Sorry, Doc,” Shawn offered.
Doctor Freedmon didn’t seem offended in the slightest. “At least you didn’t pass out. That’s a good thing,” he said as he withdrew the probe and removed his gloves. “And to reward your participation, everyone gets a going-away prize.” He stuck something into an envelope and handed it to Jasmine. “The baby looks fine. Bleeding can be normal as your uterus makes itself nice and comfy for the growing embryo. If it continues into next week, or worsens, don’t hesitate to call. You can get dressed now. The nurse will be in to give you information on how you should take care of yourself. Good luck, dear.” He patted her hand and left.
Shawn said, “Now that he’s out, you can tell the truth. Did that thing hurt, you know, inside?”
Laughing, she shook her head as she lifted up on elbows. “Not in the slightest. Are you okay? You look a little pale.”
“I’m fine. I’m glad you called me here.”
“I am too. This is certainly something I wouldn’t want you to have missed.” Her voice was sincere.
“Can’t say I really knew what the hell I was looking at, but whatever, I’m proud.” He meant it. He’d never been more joyful, and scared, in his life.
* * * *
Jasmine dressed and met Shane in the lobby. His color was back to olive, but he still seemed a little distant. She couldn’t blame him. The ultrasound made everything real. They walked out into the afternoon heat and headed toward the parking lot. Feeling the silence suffocating them, she stopped and turned to him, touching his arm. “That was an eye-opener, right?”
“Who knew you’d get goodies?” The diaper bag she held was full of baby items. “Doctor Freedmon seems like a good, trustworthy man.”
“I think so, too. Oh, I almost forgot.” She opened the envelope and took out one of the black and white ultrasound images and handed it to him.
He stared down at it quietly.
“That’s your copy.”
“Thanks.” He carefully slid it into his wide side pocket. “I guess I should head to work. I won’t be home until late.”
She hadn’t seen him, or even talked to him, since the evening they’d gone to dinner and then almost landed back in each other’s arms. “You’ve worked late three nights in a row, Shane. Is it me?” she asked. “Are you MIA because we almost had sex again?”
Shifting his feet, he obviously didn’t want to talk about it. “I’ve just been busy. I’m sorry I haven’t been around much. I’d like to be.”
“You could have fooled me. Are you afraid that I’m going to jump your bones?”
His laughter cut some of her disappointment. “Trust me, jumping my bones and afraid shouldn’t be linked in the same sentence.” He swiped his hand over his jaw and tugged at the neckline of his shirt. She realized by now it was a habit. “Some of the men and I hang out once a month at the bowling alley. Want to come along tonight?”
She looked at him through the fringe of her lashes. “With a group of men?”
“The men invite their wives and girlfriends sometimes. There will be some estrogen to deflect the testosterone.”
“Is this a date?” Her words were only meant to tease, but when he didn’t come back with a quick no, her chest tightened.
He rubbed his palms together. They heard laughter and they both glanced off where a group of teenagers were hanging out across the street. The noise was the diversion he seemed to need. “A date? I wouldn’t call it that. Just watching over you. I know you must be lonely. You don’t have friends around this area and I suppose my buddies need to get used to the idea that we’re going to have a baby.”
“So, by bringing me around it’ll ease the sudden bomb that you’re going to be a father.” As much as she didn’t want to understand, she did…in a weird way. “I get it.”
“Seven okay to pick you up?”
“Sure.”
As Jasmine drove away, instinct warned her that Shane was hiding something from her. Secrets frustrated her, and she most certainly despised lies. She could never tolerate them. Lied to again and again as a child by her mother, the betrayal was enough to last a lifetime. Her mother had never told the truth about her disappearing acts. When her mother left for good, her father seemed to have an entire internal closet of secrets and excuses. He hadn’t been a bad father, just an absent one.
Sliding her sunglasses onto her face, she pushed the thought into the back of her mind. As sure as the sun rose every morning, the truth would prevail.
Chapter 7
Jasmine was dressed and ready when Shane came downstairs. She’d chosen a white silk top, tight dark jeans and red stilettos, hoping he liked her all cleaned up. He’d exchanged his ABU’s for a long-sleeved thin, blue striped button-down and a pair of jeans. Her heart raced. With a good internal talk, it slowed and she kept her eyes steady on safe ground–his eyes only.
She noticed the slow crawl his eyes took down her body, like she was a candy shop and he was looking for sweets. Bingo. Outfit worked.
His eyes slanted and his mouth curved. “Uhh, what are those?” His gaze was on her shoes.
Lifting one foot, she gave a twist of her ankle. “Shoes. Stilettos to be exact.”
“They could second as weapons, but all the same, you do know you can’t wear those to bowl in.”
With a wrinkle of her nose, she said, “Bowling? You mean I’m going to bowl, too?”
Leaning against the doorframe, he crossed his arms. “Yes, you will bowl, too.”
Her mouth dropped. “I’ve never bowled once in my life.”
“Did you think I invited you to watch, Jasmine? Watching is for sissies. Are you a sissy?” He laughed, but she didn’t find it amusing.
He expected her to take his challenge, but she wasn’t sure she wanted any part of this friendly competition. “I am a girl. Girls can be sissies. Anyway, I thought you were going to hang with your friends.”
“It’s couples bowling. No worries.” Shaking his head, he clicked his tongue. “You’re afraid.”
“Afraid?”
“Afraid you’ll lose. I’m pretty good, you know. You can just stand there and look pretty and I’ll take the slack.” He dramatically blew on his knuckles and swiped them across his arm. “I don’t blam
e you. You don’t want to make a fool of yourself.”
He played a game; she knew it. She should just tell him to stick his teasing where the sun didn’t shine, but she also had a competitive side. Backing down wasn’t an option, even when she knew it would be hard to win. “Shall we place a bet on this, Conner?’
“A bet? Wow, this just got more interesting.”
Huffing, she wanted more than ever to take this man’s ego down a notch or two. “You’re just so sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
A smooth smile penetrated his lips. “Pretty sure, yeah.”
Realizing she’d have to make the stakes nice and juicy, because even though her chances of winning were slim, the ego fairy might be on her side and see that Shane needed an adjustment to his over-inflated one. “If I win you will make me dinner, here, for one week…seven days.”
“Dinner?” One brow popped up.
“You bragged on your kitchen skills. Did you lie?”
He hesitated. “No, I didn’t lie.”
“Look, if you’re not up for the challenge–”
“I’m up for it. I’ll cook for a week. I won’t lose anyway. And when I win–”
“Wait.” Holding up her hands, she said, “There are rules here. I won’t do anything that makes it so I won’t be able to look myself in the mirror the next day.”
“Once again, your image of me is quite flattering.” He dropped his arms and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I haven’t had a meal prepared for me at home in quite some time. If I win you’ll cook for me, for a week. No chick food, either. A real man’s dinner.”
She knew her face must have turned pale. “Are you sure that’s what you really want?”
“You can’t cook?”
“I told you this before. I’m not a cook.” She saw a flicker of confusion slide across his face. “Something else you had forgotten.”
“Is a man expected to remember everything?”
There was no argument in that. She’d choose her battles. “I’ll be right back.”
“Going to change into a sensible pair of shoes?” he teased.
She shot him a screw you expression. “No, I’m wearing the shoes. But I can fit a pair of socks into my purse. I’ll rent a pair of shoes there.”
* * * *
Shawn considered himself a tough guy. Not that he’d brag, because being tough wasn’t exactly a good quality that most women were looking for. Maybe if he had a softer side to go along with the cruel side, it would be tolerable. But he wasn’t an idiot. High scores on military intelligence tests proved that. When they walked into the bowling alley, the first thing Jasmine said to him was, “So what do you plan to tell your friends about us?”
“That you’re just carrying my kid.” He realized he hadn’t communicated himself every well. And even if he were an idiot, he still would have realized by her pained expression that he he’d messed up.
Shawn wanted to say something, or apologize to her, but before he could gather the right words, Flanders, the newest airman in the crew, was approaching them and obviously admiring Jasmine. He’d expected that. His friends were gentlemen, but they were men, after all.
Flanders, charmer that he was, grinned from ear to ear, showing off pearly whites against tanned skin. At twenty-five, he thought that glitzy stuff still worked on women. Catching a woman like Jasmine would take a lot more than a smile and a uniform and Shawn was amazed she had found his brother charming enough to sleep with.
Shawn had loved his brother, but they’d been totally different. Shane had a way of mistreating and taking advantage of the people around him. The man was a hero in a jet, but that heroic attitude didn’t bleed over into his personal life. Shane had always used women, with no intention of ever settling down. So what had made Jasmine different? How could a smart woman like her not see through Shane’s bullshit? Anger sliced through him and he couldn’t understand why. He had no responsibility to her, and neither to the baby, but somehow he felt solely responsible. He wouldn’t give up for anything in the world.
Did he feel sorry for Jasmine? Maybe. After all, no matter how many promises Shane would have made to her, he would have still been gone.
“Flanders, this is Jasmine.” Shawn finally introduced them.
Cheesy smile in place, the other man took her hand and kissed it. “Lovely to meet you.”
“Give it a rest, Flanders.” Shawn huffed. “She ain’t interested.”
“But it is a sweet gesture.” Jasmine added, flicking Shawn a narrowed glance. “Nice to meet you, Flanders.”
“You’re going to play with us tonight, right?” Flanders questioned.
“I sure am,” she answered with confidence.
“I’m envious,” Flanders said. “My partner tonight is a burly, burping airman and Shane gets you.”
Shawn patted Flanders on the shoulder. “At least one of you will have some muscle in the pair.”
“Hey, I have muscle.” Flanders cocked his biceps for show.
“If you say so. Now quit showing off and warm up. I’ve got my game on tonight.” Shawn had a bet he had to win.
After Flanders left, Jasmine said, “The men like you. I can see their respect for you.”
Shawn looked at her. “We’re a team. We have to rely on one another and I’d give my life to take care of my own.” And he meant it. Jasmine became a part of his team and he’d do anything for her, and the baby.
Fifteen minutes later, Shawn wondered if Jasmine had rolled him. Or had she brought out all of her aces to win? She wasn’t half bad at bowling. In fact, she was quite good…and it had nothing to do with the fact the woman looked sexy as hell in her tight jeans and red and blue bowling shoes, swinging the ball in an awkward way.
He had no interest in the game, which didn’t help his chances in winning the bet he’d made with her. He didn’t much care though. Cooking was a good stress reliever. He’d been surprised when Jasmine knew that. Shane had never cooked a day in his life, so he must have lied. If Shane were alive, he’d be due for a good ass-kicking. As brothers, Shawn had always been the stronger one, to Shane’s disappointment. Shane never understood strength didn’t just come from the muscles, but from the heart as well.
Jasmine hit a strike and squealed and jumped. Her smile beamed.
Bringing the bottle of beer to his lips, Shawn drank about half of it in one long sip. Damn, he needed something to take the edge off. There was something seriously wrong with him if he could get a hard-on watching a woman bowl. His thoughts spun. This was a made-for-TV movie. And he was doomed. If he told Jasmine the truth, what would she do? Would she leave? She already believed Shawn was a womanizer…far from the truth. That was Shane’s doing.
Shawn was getting sentimental. And it sure as hell couldn’t be a good thing.
He heard a crashing of pins and then a loud whoop. Looking past his beer to the lane where Flanders and a few other guys were giving Jasmine a high five, he grimaced. Shit! The girl was either lucky or definitely a con. She’d made her third strike. His brain wouldn’t focus. With his mind on his dick and not the game, he was shit-deep in trouble. Getting beat by a girl.
But it was worth it. Seeing her jumping up and down, breasts bobbing, smile bright as the brightest star–yeah it was good. She did a little celebratory dance toward him, finger pointing, wagging teasingly and chanting, “Who’s the winner now? Who’s the winner now?”
He couldn’t hold back a round of laughter. Packing up and going home looked favorable. His ass was cooked.
“You’re just lucky.” He snorted
“Is that a sore loser I hear?” She chuckled and plopped down beside him on the orange plastic chair.
“Baby, you haven’t won yet. We still have a whole second game to play.” He got a strong whiff of her scent and had a strong desire to sniff her neck. “If you promise you’ll jump around like that again, I’ll consider letting you win.”
She laughed as she lifted her long wavy hair off her neck, holding the leng
th in one hand, while fanning herself with the other. Staring at her, something filled his chest. The woman was sexier than hell with bright eyes and rosy cheeks. He had a deep need to kiss her. He didn’t give a shit who saw.
“I had no idea bowling could be this much fun.” She let her hair fall back to her shoulders. “Who knew I could actually toss a ball down a lane and hit pins?”
He’d think this was a joke, but having a hard-on for an off-limits woman was nothing to laugh about. “Yeah, who knew?” He guzzled the rest of his beer. He’d have another, but he definitely needed his wits about him.
“Come on, Shane. It’s only a game.” Her nose wrinkled when she smiled. “Ah, and one week’s worth of meals prepared for me.”
Flanders knocked down five pins. “Damn, this ball isn’t working for me,” the young man complained as he headed back to his seat. “Looks like we’re both going to lose tonight, eh Conner?’
“Speak for yourself, Flanders. I won’t give up until the last pin is in.”
Chapter 8
The next evening, Jasmine opened the door and welcomed Shane in. His arms were laden with groceries. “So, what are you making for me tonight?” She bit back a proud smile. Time for him to cook for her, since she’d won their bowling bet.
“Lasgana and garlic bread. And instead of alcohol…” He reached into one of the plastic bags and pulled out a bottle. “Sparkling for the lady.”
Jasmine took the bottle and one bag from him. He’d thought enough to grab non-alcoholic. His company each night would be enjoyable.
In the small kitchen, she put the bag onto the counter and placed the bottle in the fridge to chill. She closed the door and sneezed. Not once, but three times.
“You feeling okay?” Shane asked.
“I have a little bit of a headache.”
He had a worried look on his face.
“I’ll be fine, really.”