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High Country Christmas. Joanna Sims
Читать онлайн.Название High Country Christmas
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474002745
Автор произведения Joanna Sims
Жанр Современные любовные романы
Издательство HarperCollins
“A woman with a degree in equine science can write her own ticket in Montana.”
London yanked on her jeans and quickly slipped on her tank top. “Don’t ruin this, Tyler...we had a good time.”
Irritated, Tyler rolled to the other side of the bed and stood up. He reached for the condom to pull it off and discard it.
“Oh, crap...”
“What?” London spun around.
“The condom broke.”
“What?” She stared disbelievingly at Tyler’s back. “No...”
Her normally slow and steady heartbeat started to pound like a jackhammer in her chest. She quickly moved to the other side of the bed, where Tyler was examining the broken green condom. They both stood there silently and studied it. The tip of the condom had blown apart and it was obvious that it hadn’t provided any protection at all.
Tyler shook his head in disgust and tossed the condom in the trash. London felt as if she would start cursing if she let herself speak, so she silently pulled on her socks and her boots.
Tyler zipped up his jeans, buttoned them and then turned to her. He looked as sick as she felt.
“That’s never happened to me before...” He’d never come this close to the possibility of a woman being pregnant with his child. He had strong feelings for London, feelings that he doubted she returned. But the last thing he wanted right now was the responsibility of a kid.
“Me, neither...” London said in a very quiet, controlled voice. “Where did you even get a green condom?”
Tyler picked up the empty wrapper, crumpled it up in his fist and then threw it in the trash. “Bachelor party.”
London’s eyebrows lifted in surprise and then dropped as she frowned. “I’m sorry...did you say that you got it at a bachelor party? You aren’t serious.”
“What does it matter where it came from? It broke.”
“Trust me...” London glared at him and pulled the wrapper out of the trash. “It matters to me.” She studied the wrapper. “Made in India? They have a billion people in India.”
“So?”
“India has delicious food, beautiful jewelry, incredible hand-beaded saris...but I seriously doubt that condoms are their strongest export!”
London turned the wrapper over and checked the date. This time she couldn’t stop herself from raising her voice. “It’s expired, Tyler! Three years ago! So even if it did have spermicide, which I doubt, it’s not any good anyway!”
Tyler looked at the expiration date; she was right. It had expired three years ago, right around the time of the party. “Mystery solved why it broke.”
“Ya think?” London snatched the wrapper out of his fingers and threw it back into the trash. She sank down onto the edge of the mattress with her shoulders slumped forward in defeat.
“Really?” She looked up at the ceiling as if she were having a conversation with God. “I have sex with one guy in years?”
London dropped her head into her hands, face covered. She shook her head. “I can’t be pregnant.”
Tyler sat down on the bed next to her. “Hey...I doubt that’s going to happen.”
She didn’t lower her hands from her face. “What makes you say that?”
“Well...for one thing, it’s actually a pretty rare event, statistically. And the first condom was chock-full of spermicide.”
“That’s true.” She nodded.
“And don’t forget...that was my second time, so...there couldn’t be that many swimmers in the stream anyway.” He saw a hint of a smile in her pretty turquoise-blue eyes. “Besides, I’ve always suspected that I have really slow and confused sperm. So...the few tadpoles who managed to escape from the green condom—the ones who didn’t die by spermicide—are probably swimming the wrong way.”
Tyler’s attempt to lighten the mood worked. They both laughed for a minute at the image he had just put in their heads.
Tyler put his arm around her shoulders. “Look...I don’t think you are going to get pregnant. But if you do...I promise...we’ll work it out together.”
London’s shoulders stiffened beneath the touch of his hand on her skin. She stood up, looked him directly in the eyes. “Like you said...it probably won’t happen. So we may as well just go on living our lives like none of this ever happened.”
She was standing only a foot away from him, but he could tell by the expression on her face that she was removed emotionally. She wanted them to pretend that they had never made love; she wanted them to erase this night as if it never happened.
“You know...you don’t have to leave,” Tyler said to her when she was about to open the door. “You could sleep here if you want...”
London looked back at him with a quick shake of her head. “No. I’ve already stayed too long. Good night.”
After she left, Tyler shut off the light and got back into bed. It was strange. It felt as if the past couple of hours were a dream, a figment of his imagination. But he could still smell the scent of her body on his skin, the scent of their lovemaking on his sheets. They had made love...twice...and if the stupid green novelty condom hadn’t broken, he’d probably still have London in his arms right now. But the condom had broken and she was gone.
“Jesus...” Tyler stared up at the ceiling, unable to sleep. “Please don’t let her be pregnant.”
* * *
For the first week after the infamous broken-condom incident, Tyler stopped by the foaling barn every day to check on London. But she was always too busy or too tired to talk. After getting the brush-off for an entire week, Tyler started actively avoiding her. There was a lot of commotion at the ranch now, between his younger sister Jordan’s upcoming wedding and the large crew of men who were in the process of moving their great-grandfather’s hundred-year-old chapel down the mountain. It was easy for him to stay busy, avoid the foaling barn and try to pretend as if nothing was out of order. But he knew, in his heart, that everything was out of order. He needed to find out, one way or the other, if London was pregnant. So, at the end of the third week after they had made love, instead of heading out to the south pasture after breakfast, he went to find London.
After two weeks of not seeing him at all, London was actually glad to see Tyler when he showed up that morning. She’d had enough time to think things over, and now she was ready to talk.
“How’s she doing?” Tyler rested his arms on the top wooden plank of the stall gate and leaned forward to get a good look at the pregnant mare.
London ran her hand gently over the mare’s side; she stopped occasionally to palpate the mare’s heavy, rounded belly.
London finished her examination of the stomach and gave the horse a pat on the neck. “She’s doing great. She’s put on the right amount of weight. Her measurements are all good. The foal is in a great position. If everything continues like this, I think we’ll have a safe birth and a healthy foal right on schedule.”
“Mom’ll be glad to hear it.” Rising Star was his mom’s favorite mare.
London unhooked the lead line from the mare’s halter and gave her one last affectionate pat. “I’ve learned to give your mom daily updates.”
“That’s smart.” Tyler