“Yeah, that furniture looks more...comfortable.”
His gaze landed on the wicked ugly collapsible card table and metal folding chairs from his dad’s basement that doubled as a dining set. Not that he ever once dined on it. Eating takeout in front of the TV was more his style. Cooking for the guys while on shift was different from preparing something just for himself. “I haven’t gotten around to doing much in here yet.”
Her golden eyes sparkled. “Why? Did the couch or recliner resist arrest?”
“Took me a while to read them their rights.” His mood was buoyed by the shared moment. Yeah, he’d missed that wacky humor of hers.
“You should get Meg to help with the decorating.” She dropped her used tea bag into the wastebasket in the corner. “She’s done a fantastic job with her kitchen and the new addition. The entire place really.”
“I think she’s got her hands full at the moment with being pregnant again. They didn’t waste much time after James was born.” He was happy for his sister, but seeing Meg so settled had him looking more closely at his own situation. And he didn’t always like what he saw. But that was crazy, because as he’d told Nick, he was doing exactly what he pleased. He had a full life.
Ellie clucked her tongue. “She’s happier than I’ve ever seen her. I hope you didn’t say anything stupid like that to her face.”
He picked up his coffee and followed her into the living room. “It wouldn’t do any good if I did. As she’s been telling me since she was five I’m not the boss of her.”
“No, but she respects your opinion.” She sat back on the couch but scooted forward when her feet dangled above the floor. “Besides, you like Riley.”
He plopped down in the recliner. “I do as long as I don’t have to think about what he and my sister get up to.”
“Or your dad and Doris?”
He groaned and shook his head. “At least they’re not popping out kids as proof.”
She took a sip of her tea and set it on the table next to the couch. The sunshine streaming in through his uncovered windows made the highlights in her shiny hair glow, and he itched to run his fingers through all those dark and reddish strands. He tried to think of a word to describe it and couldn’t. Brown was too plain a term to describe all that lustrous silk.
“What color is your hair?” Oh, man, had he actually asked that out loud? What was wrong with him?
“What?” She gave him a quizzical look.
He shrugged and hoped his face wasn’t as flushed as it felt. “Meg has a thing about people calling her hair red and I, uh, just wondered if you had a name for your color like she does.”
She ran a hand over her hair. “It’s chestnut. Why?”
He nodded, but didn’t answer her question. He’d embarrassed himself enough for one day. “Are you planning on telling me why you’re here?”
She rubbed her hands on her thighs and drew in a deep breath. “I know we decided this summer was no strings attached, but—”
“About that, Ellie, I—”
“I’m pregnant.”
Chapter Eight
Ellie winced. She hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that, but he’d been acting strangely. Not that she could blame him, considering her showing up unannounced and then madly dashing to the bathroom. She could imagine him thinking the worst but that question about her hair color... What was that about? She shifted in her seat and glanced over at him. “Liam?”
He stared at her, his eyes wide, his mouth open, his breathing shallow. She’d imagined all sorts of scenarios during the drive to Boston, including him being stunned and angry, surprised and excited. The latter one was the one she preferred but not the most reasonable. You left out the one where he declares his undying love and proposes. Yeah, pregnancy hormones might be messing with her, but she was still tethered to reality. She’d been flummoxed to learn she was pregnant. Imagine poor Liam.
At least she knew now the cancer treatments hadn’t rendered her sterile. Of course this wasn’t the way she would’ve planned starting her family. Did wanting to be happily married first make her a prude?
“Are you going to say anything?” she asked, unable to stand the silence a moment longer.
He sprang from his chair as if galvanized by the sound of her voice, and came to sit next to her on the couch, crowding her space. He took her hand in his and rubbed his free one over his face. “Are you sure? Did you take a test? See a doctor?”
She tilted her head, lowered her chin and gave him the are you kidding me look. “Hello? Nurse Ellie here.”
“Oh. Right.” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is... I mean... We... I... You...”
“Yeah, we did, but nothing is one hundred percent. Not even glow-in-the-dark condoms.” Maybe Liam was as fertile as his sister. Of course now might not be the best time to point out that observation. Maybe someday they’d be able to get a chuckle or two out of it.
“Have you been to a doctor yet?” he asked.
“Not yet. I wanted to tell you before I went. In case you wanted to...to be involved...” Her voice trailed off.
Then she drew in a breath and plunged in with her prepared speech. “Look, I get that this is a lot to take in, but I want you to know I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want. I have a good job and a great support system with family and friends in Loon Lake and—”
“Have you told anyone yet?”
“What? Why? Tell me why you would ask me something like...like... Liam?” Her voice had risen with each word; blood rushed in her ears.
He lifted their entwined hands and pressed them close to his chest. “Christ, Ellie, don’t look at me like that. I figure you must’ve already come to a decision or you wouldn’t even be here now telling me about the baby.” He pulled her closer so she was practically on his lap. “Besides, you know me better than that. I know the ability to have children has been a concern of yours, and knowing how much you love kids, I’m sure you want them.”
Relief washed through her and she nodded against his chest, the faint garlic aroma making her empty stomach rumble. Really? Food at a time like this? You’d rather be thinking about sex? “So why did you ask if I’d told anyone?”
He rubbed his thumb over her palm. “I was there when it happened, so I should be there when you tell your parents. At least I assume you’re planning to tell them.”
For the first time since coming to Boston, she was able to take a deep breath and released it with a laugh. Relief, or maybe it was oxygen, making her giddy. “I know it’s early to be telling people but what happened in your bathroom is only a part of what’s been happening. I either avoid my family for another month or tell them why I’m so tired, dizzy and pale. I don’t want my mom thinking the cancer has returned. And it’s not something I will be able to hide for very long from my family.”
“You’d be surprised. I remember Meg hid it for as long as she could.” He squeezed her shoulder.
“Your sister’s situation was different. Meg was nineteen, still living at home, and Riley had left town, possibly forever. I’m twenty-seven, employed and, if that’s not enough, I happen to know where you live.” Why in heaven’s name was she arguing with him? She should be ecstatic and yet she was...what? Disappointed because he hadn’t pledged his love? This was Liam. Over the summer he had become not just a lover but also a friend. Still, he wasn’t the most emotionally available guy she knew. Supportive was good. Supportive worked.
“I don’t know about your parents, but my dad has this tone of voice...” He leaned against the couch cushions, drawing her back with him. “Makes me feel twelve all over again when he uses it.”
“My mom...she gets this look.” She blinked. Damn, but she’d never been a crier. She was smart, practical Ellie, a cancer survivor. A survivor who decided she wanted a fling with the deliciously sexy fire
man who also happened to be a friend. She’d wanted to experience something a little wild, maybe even a little wicked. Of course she should have known better than to fall for her temporary fling. “I guess I’m a total failure at this fling business. Not getting pregnant must be like, what, number one on the no-no list?”
“A rookie mistake.” He brushed his knuckles across her back.
She blew the hair off her forehead. “A big one.”
He gently tucked those stray hairs behind her ear. “I’m sure your dad will be more likely to lay the blame on me.”
She sat up straighter and pulled away so she could look at him. “I’ll talk to my dad, make him understand that forcing someone into ma—into something they don’t want isn’t a solution.”
He untangled himself and stood up, looking at her with that little half grin. “Wanna explain that to Mac, too?”
“I’m sure your dad will be fine.” She huffed out a mirthless laugh. “He dotes on Fiona and James. He loves being Grampa Mac. And he has to know at your age that you’re, uh, sexually active.”
“Did you want to tell Mac while I’m here in Boston?”
“My dad and Doris are on another one of their jaunts in their motor home and not due back until next week.” He stopped pacing and perched his butt against the windowsill. “I do need to tell Meg. If she finds out before I tell her, she’ll never let me hear the end of it. What about you?”
“I’ll tell my parents and since we’ll be telling Meg, I’d like to tell Mary before she hears it from someone else. We’ve become good friends since she’s moved to town. I can call her or stop by the farm.”
Liam chuckled. “Meg likes to complain about Loon Lake gossip reaching me down here, but she’s usually the one to call and tell me stuff. She claims that she’s doing it before the chatter reaches me.”
“You can still change your mind about coming with me to talk to my parents.” She was giving him an out but prayed he wouldn’t take it.
“No, I want them to know I’m not some random guy that got you—”
“Gee, McBride, thanks a lot.” She wasn’t about to confess to Liam how few guys she’d been intimate with...ever. And this wasn’t how she’d imagined she’d feel when having a baby. Instead of celebrating with the man she loved, this was beginning to feel more like triage. She scooted off the sofa to go and stand in front of him.
“What? I only meant—”
“I know what you meant.” She sighed but couldn’t help leaning into his warmth. “That’s the problem.”
“I know you don’t sleep around. What I’m saying is I need to face your dad. Apologize and—”
Her gaze clashed with his. “Liam? Zip it.”
“Right.”
“So, we need to break the news to my parents and Meg. Is...” She cleared her throat and took a step back, needing space before asking this next question. Correction, she needed space before receiving his answer. “Is there anyone else you might need to tell?”
“Like? Oh, you mean...” He straightened up and away from the windowsill and took a step, closing the distance she’d put between them. “There hasn’t been another woman since...there’s no other woman.”
She released the breath she’d been holding. That tidbit warmed her more than she would’ve imagined. “Me, either.”
“That’s because I’m irreplaceable.” He flashed her one of his devilish, intensely sexy smiles.
She gave him a backhanded slap on the arm, but she couldn’t wipe the silly grin off her face. Or the relief from her heart.
* * *
Liam scrubbed his scalp vigorously as he lathered the shampoo and tried not to think, but Ellie’s I’m pregnant was stuck on an endless loop in his head. No question he needed to step up and be there for Ellie and their child. He ducked his head under the shower spray and rinsed. Ellie would be a great mom. Exhibit one: she wasn’t hiding in the bathroom using taking a quick shower as an excuse to build up much-needed defenses.
On a scale from an unplanned pregnancy to Ellie’s cancer returning, the pregnancy was less scary every time, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t scared. Being a dad had been a nebulous idea for the future. Not on today’s to-do list.
When he’d seen Ellie waiting for him on his steps, it had taken all his willpower to remain casual, to not confess how much he’d missed her, to not tell her how many times he’d thought about her. The hug he’d given her had been meant as platonic, two friends greeting each other, but the moment she’d been in his arms, he’d wanted her with an intense ache. And it hadn’t been all physical. He could handle simple lust but this felt like more. More than he wanted to admit or accept.
Angry with himself for dwelling, he snapped the faucet off, grimacing when the building’s ancient pipes rattled and groaned at his careless treatment. He stepped out of the shower, snatched a towel from the rack and dried off, dressing in jeans and a long-sleeve pullover shirt.
He grabbed a pair of socks and went back in his living room, where he found Ellie seated on the couch, watching television and looking relaxed. But the trash was gone from the coffee table, the remotes were lined up like soldiers, except for the one in her hand, and both of his sneakers sat by his recliner. Yeah, Ellie liked organization and structure.
“You didn’t have to clean.” He scooped up his sneakers and sank into the chair.
“I’d hardly call throwing a pizza box away cleaning.” She waved her free hand in a dismissive gesture, but she was white-knuckling the remote in the other.
Before he could think of something to say, she prattled on. “Did you know that there’s a nonprofit organization that studies and ranks tall buildings? Evidently they give out awards or something. Who would have thought to give awards to skyscrapers?”
She continued her one-sided discussion while he pulled the socks on.
“Isn’t that interesting?” She peered at him, an expectant expression on her beautiful face.
“Uh-huh.” He stuffed his feet into his beat-up running shoes, all the while trying to figure out where she was going with all this skyscraper talk.
She thrust out her lower lip. “You’re not even listening.”
He met her accusing glare and tried not to smile at her being indignant on behalf of inanimate objects. He longed to take that plump lower lip between his teeth and nip it so he could then soothe it with his tongue and then—Whoa. What happened to not going there?
“Liam?”
“I’m listening...honest...nonprofit...tall buildings...awards. See? But I fail to understand why you’re sounding like the Discovery Channel all of a sudden.” Where was all this going? Had he missed something?
“Would you prefer I sit here and cry?” She set the remote on the table and sniffed.
“God, no. Tell me more about these awards. They sound fascinating.” He crowded beside her on the couch. When he put his arm around her, she leaned into his side and he rested his cheek on her hair. Her chestnut hair. Now he needed the name of the flowers it smelled like, but he damn sure wasn’t going to ask her—at least not today. Her subtle scent surrounded him like whirling smoke. “I told you, I’m not going anywhere and I’m gainfully employed. That has to count for something.”
She sniffed. “But you only wanted a short fling.”
He tightened his embrace. Ellie would demand, and deserved, more than what he could give to this relationship, but he had to try if they were going to be parents. “But we’re friends. We’ll be friends having a baby.”
“Have you forgotten you live here in Boston, and I live in Vermont?” She sighed, a sound filled with frustration.
Ellie wasn’t a quitter and neither was he. It would take some adjusting, but they could work this out. “Now that you’ve mentioned it, there’s plenty of room in—”
She pulled away. “Forget it. I’m not moving in with you.”
; Huh, that stung. Way more than he would’ve thought. And definitely more than he liked. Especially since that wasn’t what he’d been suggesting. “I wasn’t asking. My second-floor tenant is—”
“No, thanks. I wouldn’t like the commute to work or the high city rents.” She shot him a sour look.
“I haven’t said anything about charging you rent.”
“And I don’t want to be responsible for putting you in a financial bind. Don’t you need both rents to make the mortgage?”
Yeah, losing a rent would make it tough, but he wasn’t about to admit that to her. “You let me worry about that.”
How were they supposed to work things out if she kept throwing up roadblocks? He tried to pull her back against him, but she resisted. Was she upset because he hadn’t asked her to move in with him? “In case you hadn’t noticed, Boston has hospitals.”
“Why do I have to be the one to move?” she sputtered. “Vermont has fire departments.”
In Vermont, he wasn’t in line for a promotion. In Vermont, he wasn’t a fourth-generation firefighter. Loon Lake was a part-time house. He needed full time with benefits. And the smaller the battalion, the longer it took to rise in the ranks. “They’re not the Boston Fire Department.”
“Oh, excuse me.” She scowled. “Vermont might not have the honor of having the first fire department in the nation, but they know how to fight fires in Vermont. Last I heard they’d traded in their horses for shiny red trucks.”
“I’m a fourth-generation Boston firefighter. It’s a tradition that might continue with...” He glanced at her still-flat stomach. Would there be a fifth generation?
She placed a hand over her abdomen as if protecting it from him. “And maybe she won’t want to be a firefighter.”
“She?” All thoughts of their argument flew out of his head. He swallowed hard. How could a simple pronoun make his stomach cramp? “You already know it’s a girl?”
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