Righteous Lies (Book 1: Dancing Moon Ranch Series) by Patricia Watters Read Free Book Online

of stores that stocked craft
and hobby items.
    "I picked
up some stuff that might help you pass the time," Jack said, pulling out
what looked like a paint-by-numbers set.
    Grace took the
kit from Jack's hand, noticing that he'd cleaned his fingernails. She also saw
that he was clean shaved. And more handsome than before. Her heart gave a
little annoying patter. She didn't want to be attracted to the man. She wanted
him out of her life. "Thank you," she said, returning her attention
to the paint-by-number kit. The picture on the canvas board appeared to be a
cat sitting on a pillow.
    Jack searched
in the bag and brought out a tube of paint and handed it to her. "The kit
didn't come with gray," he said, his mouth curving slightly. "I
thought you'd want it."
    For some
completely unexplainable and embarrassing reason, Grace's eyes misted over, and
before she could stop them, tears welled. "This is ridiculous," she
said. She set the painting kit aside so she could swipe the tears from her
eyes.
    "You don't
have to paint it if you don't want to," Jack replied, sounding
disappointed.
    "That's
not it," Grace said, even though it was... But it wasn't. It was Jack. He
hated Mei Ling but he knew she loved the silly cat, and this was his way of
dealing with it. And she was touched by his thoughtfulness. "I told you
pregnant women get emotional," she said. "The painting kit's nice.
I'll start the picture today." She smiled at him and said, with irony,
"If it turns out okay you can hang it in your house to remind you of Mei
Ling."
    Jack smiled
back, and this time, his lips curved up at both ends. He had a nice smile. And
very... interesting lips...
    "I also
picked up this." Jack rummaged in the bag and pulled out a cross-stitch
set. "I couldn't find a cat so I thought nursery blocks would do. You can
put it in the nursery when it's finished. There's a place where you can stitch
in his name when we decide."
    "His name
is Marc," Grace said, although she wasn't so sure now. Somehow, the name Marc
didn't fit the child she imagined inside her. Already he seemed more like a
Jack. Or maybe a Paul, as in Paul Bunyan. Something that would fit a very big
man.
    "There's
time to decide," Jack said, ignoring the fact that she'd just told him the
baby's name was Marc, even though she wasn't sure herself for the first time in
nearly eight months. "Thank you for the cross-stitching and the painting set,"
she said. "They will help pass
the time."
    Jack reached
for the other bag. "And here's some wool and knitting needles and a book
on how to knit if you don't already know how. I thought you might want to knit
hats or socks or little sweaters. I didn't know what colors you'd want so I got
several."
    Grace looked at
the man. He was out of a different century. Women didn't sit around knitting
clothes for their unborn children anymore. And she'd only knitted once in her
life. But then, sitting in bed was already getting tedious and knitting would
help pass the time. She took the book and paged through it. Maybe a blue hat to
match his blue eyes...
    Brown. Grace
had to remember. Her baby's eyes would be brown. Brown eyes, brown hair. Maybe a
yellow hat would be better. And a pair of matching socks on his little feet.
Big feet, she corrected, moving her hand around on her tummy.
    "You
okay?" Jack asked, brows gathered in concern.
    "I'm
fine," Grace replied. "I was just feeling around for a foot while
trying to determine what size socks to knit."
    "Big,"
Jack said. "He'll wear size fourteen boots someday." To Grace's
surprise, Jack sat on the bed and placed his palm where hers had been, and
said, "I want to feel him kick."
    Grace said
nothing, just sat still while Jack held his hand against her belly. Before
long, she felt the warmth of Jack's palm, along with the flutter of a kick. And
the expression on Jack's face was one of pure joy. But after a moment, he moved
his hand and put his ear where his hand had been and listened. It was an odd
moment, a man who'd