Read Online Fall (Roam Series, Book Two) by Kimberly Stedronsky - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kimberly Stedronsky
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two,” she chided, moving toward the bread bowl on the table. “Please eat a roll while it cooks.”
“I like this dress,” Logan sauntered into the kitchen from behind me. He slipped his arm around my waist as he stole a cookie from a decorative tray on the counter. “You look like an angel.”
I straightened rigidly, covering his hand with mine. My dress was short, a cream, sweater material with a cowl neck, the clinging fabric clearly defining my rounded abdomen. The hem touched the back of my legs, just above my knees. “Far from,” I said, under my breath. He squeezed me reassuringly before letting me go.
Violet waited at West’s house for us, after a heated conversation that ended in me handing her the keys. Logan felt we needed to invite her to dinner, but I insisted that she’d raise too many questions with both of our families. She insisted she didn’t want to go, anyway.
Dinner began with Mr. Rush complimenting me on my cranberry sauce, so I decided we were off to a good start. Near dessert, the inquisition began. I gently set my fork down on the table and counted the moments until I could excuse myself.
“So, Logan tells us that he may not join the Marines if you two get back together. You know my views, so I’m hoping you two are working out your issues.”
I glared at Logan. Really? Logan rolled his eyes, focusing on his plate. Mr. Rush hated that his only child had decided to join the military. He was a baseball fanatic, and constantly encouraged Logan to think of playing for the minor leagues.
“That’s… um… a lot of pressu re,” I breathed a nervous laugh. “Ultimately Logan’s future is… up to Logan.”
“ Well, not anymore, right?” He gestured to the general area below my chin. “Now it’s up to my grandson or granddaughter.”
I lowered my eyes, tracing my fingers along the edge of the tablecloth. “Okay.”
“ I suggest,” he cleared his throat, taking a swig of water before continuing, “that we take the initiative here. Carol and I would like to offer you thirty thousand dollars for the wedding, and a ten percent down payment on a house.”
Logan nearly jumped out of his chair. “Dad, you told me you wouldn’t-…,”
Robert held his palm up. “Hold on. Let’s hear what Roamie has to say.”
I sighed, keeping my eyes down. “I don’t generally accept marriage proposals from my boyfriend’s parents.”
Robert smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. His clear, brown eyes twinkled when I met them. “At least he’s your boyfriend again. We’re moving in the right direction.”
Realizing my slip, I looked at Logan, exasperated. He grinned, shoving a fork full of mashed potatoes in his mouth.
“Mr. Rush,” I turned to Carol. “Mrs. Rush, I’ve known you both all of my life. I love you both. You’re very generous. You have to know that no matter what happens… I have to think about what’s best for the baby.”
“A fabulous wedding sounds like a great start,” Carol smiled, reaching for my hand. I let her squeeze my fingers. “And we love you too, sweetie.”
“I don’t-…,”
“We could be here for you, to help with the baby, hire a nanny…,” she continued, reaching for her wine glass. “And you could go to college. It’s not too late.”
Selfish did not begin to describe my next thought process. I imagined dancing with Logan at our wedding reception, with Mr. and Mrs. Rush dancing beside us, smiling proudly. Flashing to our first house (ten percent down) with a white, picket fence, a grand kitchen (containing several tomato knives) and a nursery, I saw our baby cradled lovingly in Logan’s arms.
I suddenly pictured West’s face, and jerked back to reality, mortified.
“I’m sorry, please excuse me,” I slid the chair back, barely making it to the downstairs bathroom before gasping. The tears rolled down my cheeks, and I dabbed at them with toilet paper, fighting for control.
“Cam.” Logan knocked softly. “I’m
“I like this dress,” Logan sauntered into the kitchen from behind me. He slipped his arm around my waist as he stole a cookie from a decorative tray on the counter. “You look like an angel.”
I straightened rigidly, covering his hand with mine. My dress was short, a cream, sweater material with a cowl neck, the clinging fabric clearly defining my rounded abdomen. The hem touched the back of my legs, just above my knees. “Far from,” I said, under my breath. He squeezed me reassuringly before letting me go.
Violet waited at West’s house for us, after a heated conversation that ended in me handing her the keys. Logan felt we needed to invite her to dinner, but I insisted that she’d raise too many questions with both of our families. She insisted she didn’t want to go, anyway.
Dinner began with Mr. Rush complimenting me on my cranberry sauce, so I decided we were off to a good start. Near dessert, the inquisition began. I gently set my fork down on the table and counted the moments until I could excuse myself.
“So, Logan tells us that he may not join the Marines if you two get back together. You know my views, so I’m hoping you two are working out your issues.”
I glared at Logan. Really? Logan rolled his eyes, focusing on his plate. Mr. Rush hated that his only child had decided to join the military. He was a baseball fanatic, and constantly encouraged Logan to think of playing for the minor leagues.
“That’s… um… a lot of pressu re,” I breathed a nervous laugh. “Ultimately Logan’s future is… up to Logan.”
“ Well, not anymore, right?” He gestured to the general area below my chin. “Now it’s up to my grandson or granddaughter.”
I lowered my eyes, tracing my fingers along the edge of the tablecloth. “Okay.”
“ I suggest,” he cleared his throat, taking a swig of water before continuing, “that we take the initiative here. Carol and I would like to offer you thirty thousand dollars for the wedding, and a ten percent down payment on a house.”
Logan nearly jumped out of his chair. “Dad, you told me you wouldn’t-…,”
Robert held his palm up. “Hold on. Let’s hear what Roamie has to say.”
I sighed, keeping my eyes down. “I don’t generally accept marriage proposals from my boyfriend’s parents.”
Robert smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. His clear, brown eyes twinkled when I met them. “At least he’s your boyfriend again. We’re moving in the right direction.”
Realizing my slip, I looked at Logan, exasperated. He grinned, shoving a fork full of mashed potatoes in his mouth.
“Mr. Rush,” I turned to Carol. “Mrs. Rush, I’ve known you both all of my life. I love you both. You’re very generous. You have to know that no matter what happens… I have to think about what’s best for the baby.”
“A fabulous wedding sounds like a great start,” Carol smiled, reaching for my hand. I let her squeeze my fingers. “And we love you too, sweetie.”
“I don’t-…,”
“We could be here for you, to help with the baby, hire a nanny…,” she continued, reaching for her wine glass. “And you could go to college. It’s not too late.”
Selfish did not begin to describe my next thought process. I imagined dancing with Logan at our wedding reception, with Mr. and Mrs. Rush dancing beside us, smiling proudly. Flashing to our first house (ten percent down) with a white, picket fence, a grand kitchen (containing several tomato knives) and a nursery, I saw our baby cradled lovingly in Logan’s arms.
I suddenly pictured West’s face, and jerked back to reality, mortified.
“I’m sorry, please excuse me,” I slid the chair back, barely making it to the downstairs bathroom before gasping. The tears rolled down my cheeks, and I dabbed at them with toilet paper, fighting for control.
“Cam.” Logan knocked softly. “I’m
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