Free The Pregnant Bride by Catherine Spencer Page B

as interesting as your place.”
    “Have you always lived downtown?”
    Without a clue as to where all this was leading, he shook his head. “Uh-uh. I owned a house in West Vancouver when Adrienne and I were together.”
    “Which do you prefer?”
    “A house made sense when I was married, especially once Molly was born, but an apartment’s easier now that I’m single again.” Mystified, he tossed her a quizzical glance. “What’s with the third degree, Jenna?”
    “I’m interested in you, that’s all.”
    “I’m flattered—I think.”
    She brushed that aside as if it were of no consequence how he felt, and started off down another avenue. “How is Molly?”
    “Doing well, thanks.”
    “Do you get to see her very often?”
    “Not nearly as much as I’d like. Adrienne’s husband owns a vineyard in the Okanagan, down near Osoyoos, which is a fair drive from Vancouver as I’m sure you know. Anything else?”
    “Yes,” she said, as if she were mentally ticking items off a list. “Why did your marriage end?”
    He frowned and set down his glass. He’d always fancied himself pretty good at steering a conversation in the direction he wanted it to go, but he was beginning to think he’d met his match in her. “Why do you care?”
    “Well, you already know plenty about me,” she said, all big, innocent eyes and artless demeanor, neither of which had him fooled for a minute. There was a lot more going on here than she was telling! “So it seems a fair exchange that you tell me something about you. Unless, of course, you have something to hide.”
    “Not a darn thing, sweet pea,” he said, adopting the same guileless expression she was working so hard to maintain. “Adrienne was from a small town not far from where she’s living now. She came to Vancouver because she thought the big city would be more glamorous and exciting. We met, fell in love, made plans, got married, and had a baby, in that order. In other words, did all the right things for what appeared to be the right reasons.”
    “So what went wrong?”
    “Ultimately, our goals and expectations didn’t mesh. She found it too lonely staying home with a baby all day and started making noises about us moving closer to her parents. But I had a business to run here so I suggested she go home and spend a couple of days with her family every once in a while. Once in a while turned into every second week, though, and next she started hinting that, since I was out at work Monday through Friday, she might as well just come back here on the weekends. The feelings—love, if you like—changed, eventually died, our marriage went down the tubes, she met someone else better able to give her the kind of life she wanted, and married him.”
    “Just like that?”
    “No,” he said, beginning to get irritated. “Not just like that. Relationships aren’t built in a day and they don’t break down that fast, either. A lot of resentment and a whole whack of guilt enter the picture, especially when a child’s involved. So if you’re asking me if I have any regrets, the answer’s yes. I regret not having my daughter live with me. I resent the fact that she lives too far away for me to see her every day, to read to her at bedtime, to take her to the park. And it drives me nuts to know she’s calling some other man ‘Daddy.’ Does that answer all your questions?”
    “Not quite.”
    He heaved a sigh and shook his head. “I could be home in the peace and quiet of my own apartment, doing nothing more strenuous than watching TV,” he informed the world at large. “Why did I think coming here instead was a good idea?”
    “I’m sorry,” she said, her face the picture of remorse. “I wish there was some other way to do this.”
    “Do what, for crying out loud? Where are all these questions leading?”
    She hopped out of her chair as if she’d just found herself sharing space with a pit viper, and if she’d been edgy before, she was verging on nervous