Free Emily's Choice by Heather McCoubrey Page B

for a bit of
amnesia.
    He wandered
out to the back porch and sat in the lounge chair. He kept the lights off,
hoping he could fool the mosquitoes into thinking he wasn’t there.
    What the
hell was he going to do? Emily had been adamant that she didn’t want him, didn’t
want to see him or be with him. How did you change someone’s mind when they had
it made up so thoroughly?
    Maybe trying
to woo her back was the only way? He could make phone calls, send flowers and
gifts. Sure, it was going to be long-distance and that was going to make it all
the more harder , but he had to try.
    How long
until he could know for sure whether Lila was pregnant? And did it really
matter? Emily would flip out if she found out, and that would definitely be a
thorn in their reconciliation. But how could he be sure it really was his? He
didn’t remember anything from that night, and he sure didn’t remember whether
he and Lila had gone all the way. He’d been so drunk he couldn’t imagine they
had gone all the way. Surely he would have passed out before anything serious
happened.
    He’d found
no evidence of a wild, sexy night. He’d been sure to check when Clint had come
by that morning hell-bent on beating the crap out of him. Sure, he’d been down
to his boxers, but he hadn’t woken nude, which would have been a given if he’d
had sex that night.
    He sat
forward and set his beer on the ground. A smile broke across his face. Lila had
to be lying, but how would he get her to admit it? Or how would he catch her in
the lie? She was probably expecting her news to drive him into her arms,
especially with Emily so inaccessible.
    He didn’t
need another complication to getting Emily back, but he definitely had to get
this nipped in the bud. He drained the rest of his beer and set the empty
bottle on the floor next to the lounge chair. Standing, he paced the length of
the porch and made a plan.
    First, he
had to confirm Lila’s pregnancy, but he had no idea how. Second, if she was
pregnant, he had to get a DNA test done . . . it wasn’t his and he had to prove
it. Third, and he hated that this was third on the list, he would start his
wooing campaign of Emily right away by sending flowers, and he’d call her this
weekend to say hi. And he should go shopping for a Christmas gift for her, and
it had to be good.
    He was a man
of action, and action was what he needed right now. Actions spoke louder than
words, right? Well, he hoped that was true.

 
    “Knock,
knock,” Jason said, rapping his knuckles against the screen door. He’d stayed
up late into the night making plans to catch Lila in her lie, and then he’d
moved on to how he was going to win Em back.
    He was
tired, heart sick, and not ready to face the day. It was already scorching hot
and it wasn’t even nine o’clock in the morning.
    “Come in,”
Grace said pleasantly, handing him a steaming mug of strong, black coffee as he
walked through the door.
    “Thank you,”
he muttered against the lip of the mug as he took his first sip of coffee of
the day. He propped a hip against the counter and smiled at Grace. “How are you
today?”
    “I’m good.
Getting geared up for the trip to Boston. We’re leaving bright and early
tomorrow morning.”
    “How long
will you be gone?”
    “I will most
likely be gone until after the baby is born; Clint will be home Monday
afternoon.” She puttered around the kitchen, pulling out plates and homemade
cinnamon buns. “Sit down,” she gestured toward the table. “I’m sure you haven’t
had breakfast yet.”
    “Nothing as
delicious as what you’re about to serve me.” He laughed, helping himself to a bun.
He moaned in delight with his first bite. Nothing in the world tasted better
than Grace’s cooking. She had a gift. “Will you let me know when the baby is
born?”
    Grace nodded
as she took a sip of her coffee. “Of course.” She smiled.
    “Do you
think it would be a bad choice to fly out and see the