Free Suited (St. Martin Family Saga) by Gina Watson Page A

He opened the door and was gone.
    ≈
    Cash drove the two and a half hours to Whiskey Cove in silence. When he returned to Camp’s house, he went straight to his bed and plopped down face first, still dressed.
    Camp walked into the bedroom. “Did you find her?”
    “I found her.”
    “What happened?”
    Cash rolled over. “What happened was I proposed and she said no.”
    “You proposed?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Maybe she’s just not ready.”
    “I asked her that.”
    “What’d she say?”
    “She said she wouldn’t marry me. Not ever.” A killer headache was coming on so Cash put his forearm over his eyes and shut out the world.

10

     
     
    T he next week Isa was plagued with all sorts of weird pregnancy cravings. She spent the mornings throwing up her guts, and by lunchtime she’d be starving. On Wednesday, when the starving part kicked in, she decided to take a look at the offerings of the food truck parked across the street.
    Several construction workers were seated at the tables that surrounded the truck. Isa ordered a cheeseburger. While she waited, she noticed a preadolescent boy with light eyes and dark hair clearing the tables. She wondered why he wasn’t in school. Where were his parents? She offered a greeting. “Hey, you eat here much?”
    The boy nodded at Isa. “Yeah, I’ve had it all. That’s my mom.” He indicated the woman in the kitchen of the truck with a head nod.
    “That works out good for you.”
    “Not really.” With one finger he traced a gouge in the wooden table.
    Isa cocked her head and considered his response. “It’s not good for you? Don’t you get to eat for free?”
    “Yeah, but I ate free at school and didn’t have to work.”
    “You work here?”
    “Yeah, I hafta help my mom.”
    “So what about school?”
    The boy shrugged. “What about it?”
    His mom yelled from the kitchen, “Get off that damned table and get in here and help me!”
    Isa watched as the boy jumped up into the food truck and dropped a basket into the fryer. His mother told him she was going to take a break.
    Isa watched his mother walk around to the back of the trailer that was butted up against the garbage alley. When Isa took a few steps back, she saw the woman pinned up against the truck while she and one of the construction workers went at it.
    She looked around to see if there were any witnesses. There weren’t. She walked to the counter to get her burger from the boy. “Hey, thanks, kiddo. So what does your dad do?”
    The kid looked up at Isa. “I don’t have a father. My mom fucks around. That’s how she got stuck with me.” His gaze swept in the direction of the back of the trailer.
    Another customer walked up, and the kid took the order. Isa took her burger back to the office and threw it in the trash. Instead of eating lunch, she thought she’d throw up.
    She wondered what would become of the boy. Would things have been different if he’d had a father? Isa wasn’t clear on that line of thinking because she’d had no parents, mother or father, to speak of, and she’d still made her life work.
    She didn’t know why some people seemed to be born lucky while others struggled. Cash had always been lucky. He’d played Russian roulette with life and walked away again and again. Isa hoped the baby in her belly would be as lucky as Cash. She patted the still slim spot where she imagined he was cradled.
    “I hope you’ll be just like him, that you’ll be lucky and loving and…”
    It suddenly dawned on Isa that her child would have no father to emulate, no man to compare himself to, because she’d been too selfish to take a chance. She patted her belly again. And she looked across the street. She couldn’t see the boy anymore, but she’d seen enough. She couldn’t keep her baby from his or her father because of her insecurities. She didn’t have to marry Cash, but she would tell him about the baby. And then she thought of the St. Martin clan. Even if Cash were to leave,