Her Best Friend's Lover

by Shiloh Walker

  “Sure. Once you agree to find out what the baby is,” he responded, tapping a little more enthusiastically.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I enjoy making you suffer,” she said pleasantly, laying the magazine down on her lap and folding her hands over her belly.

  With a grin, he lowered his chair back to the ground. “I’ll make you a deal. Let me find out what it is and I won’t tell you,” he suggested, hope gleaming in his eyes. “I’ll even pretend to still want to know, so you can pretend to make me suffer.”

  She slid him a look from the corner of her eye and repeated, “No.”

  Groaning, he slumped in the seat. “Can’t you say anything else?”

  “Certainly. Can’t you ask a different question?”

  This was a repeat of the past two trips to have the ultrasound. Now Dale would reply, Sure. If you give me the answer I want to the first one. The bantering would continue until she was called back.

  But Dale had risen out of his chair and knelt in front of her, a little different from the normal script. As he caught her hand in his, she arched a brow at him. “Going to beg me? This ought to be interesting. Might have been more fun at home though.”

  He didn’t smile. “I have a different question now,” was all he said, before raising her hand to his lips and kissing it. Her left hand.

  She met his eyes, going still. The magazine slid, forgotten, from her lap as he whispered, “I love you more than my own life. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, nothing I wouldn’t give. I want to be a husband to you.”

  Lauren’s heart stopped beating.

  “I want to be a father to your child,” he added. “I want that more than life.”

  Her breath stopped within her throat.

  “I want to wake up to you in the morning, fall asleep next to you at night. I want to raise this baby with you and grow old with you.”

  A single tear fell, rolled down her cheek.

  He slid a gold band, set with a pearl flanked by sparkling diamonds, onto her finger. “Lauren, will you marry me?”

  Her eyes closed and another tear fell. Turning her hand over, she clutched his, feeling the weight, the fit of the band on her finger as she slid off the chair into his lap, in front of the small audience that sat in the waiting room. A little girl giggled, a couple of watery sniffs came from behind her as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Across the room, one woman sighed in envy before elbowing her husband and asking, “Why couldn’t you ask me like that?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, as another onlooker shook his head, smiling a bit himself.

  “Heck of a place to propose,” the onlooker muttered, enjoying the show. Much better than the talk trash on the TV, in his opinion. The woman was a looker, tall, willowy, black, black hair and smoky gray eyes. Stacked. And he had to admit, all those sweet words the man had spoken had done the trick. Bound to get something special for that.

  “Yes,” she repeated as Dale held her tightly against him. A sigh of relief escaped him as she leaned her head back, staring into his blue eyes.

  Just then, the door swung open and a tiny gray haired woman boomed out in a voice like a cannon, “Lauren Spencer?”

  Dale smiled sweetly and bussed her mouth. “Not for long.”

  * * * * *

  You have to tell him, Lauren told herself.

  She stared at herself in the mirror, brush held limply in her hand as she held her free hand over the hard mound of her belly, feeling the tiny little fluttering kicks within. Her eyes burned with tears, her teeth closed over her lower lip. She had put it off, knowing full well she hadn’t expected him to stay with her, like this, for long.

  But he wanted to marry her.

  Oh, he was going to be furious.

  Dale was on his way back from the store, chasing down lime sherbet for her.

  For her, a selfish, self-centered coward of a woman.

  She sat down on the toilet, face buried in her hands. “That’s it, Lauren. When he gets home, you’re telling him.”

  Dale’s house had just sold to a young doctor and his bride. He’d volunteered to sell his house and make hers their home, a gesture that made her cry. He knew how much she loved this place, this home she had made, the only real home she’d ever known. He knew how she loved her garden, every flower, every bush and tree. And they had worked side by side to finish the baby’s room.

  The wedding was less than two weeks away. Dale had already packed up what he wanted to keep and transported it over to Lauren’s, sold most of what he wouldn’t need and didn’t want. The only pieces of furniture left were his desk and bed and some chairs. And the bed had to go when he moved in with Lauren.

  In an old fashioned, if rather silly, move, Dale had decided that he would sleep at home until the wedding. And he had decided, much to Lauren’s dismay and displeasure, they would wait until after the wedding before having sex again. Lauren pouted any time she thought of it, but she was moved at the same time.

  Everything was ready.

  You have to tell him.

  I will, today. As soon as he gets home.

  * * * * *

  He hadn’t heard her right. That was all. He set the brown paper bag on the counter and asked, “Excuse me?”

  Her gray eyes, stormy and turbulent, met his squarely. “I need to tell you about the night I got pregnant, Dale,” she repeated. Behind her back, where he couldn’t see, her hands knotted together nervously.

  “Why?”

  Her brows arched up and she repeated, “Why?”

  He looked away from her solemn eyes, putting the carton of sherbet in the freezer. “It’s not really important, is it, Lauren?” he said, his calm voice belying the thudding of his heart. The cold sweat of panic had settled over him and he had to concentrate to keep his hands from shaking.

  Had the father changed his mind? Had she changed her mind? Did she still love the baby’s father after all?

  “I think it is,” she said softly, hands locked behind her back. He knew she did this to hide her fidgeting.

  “Are we still getting married?” he asked quietly. “Or have you changed your mind?”

  “No,” she replied, her voice urgent. “No. I haven’t, and wouldn’t ever change my mind about that.”

  He grabbed her arms, lifting her on her toes, lowering his face until he was nose-to- nose, eye-to-eye with her. “Do you love me?” he asked, his own voice mirroring the urgency in hers.

  “With all my heart,” she said. “Dale-”

  The fist around his heart started to relax and he eased her back onto her feet, cuddling her against his chest. He wasn’t giving her up.

  “Is he going to try to take the baby from you? Do I have to worry about sharing this baby?” He sighed and shoved a hand through his hair. “It’s his right, I guess. I can handle that, but I sure as hell don’t have to like it.”

  “No. Dale, it’s nothing like that,” she said, reaching out for him. “I just think you should know-”

  “Were you hurt? Did he…did he rape you?” The black rage welled up in him even from thinking it. By heaven, if somebody had hurt her, he would kill him, slowly.

  “Absolutely not,” she replied, her voice indignant. “I’d kill the man who tried it.”

  Dale smiled at the outrage in her voice, instantly reassured. “Thank God,” he whispered, the tension draining out of him. He reached for her only to pull back when she held her hands out, warding him off.

  She instantly regretted it as hurt filled his eyes. She wanted, desperately, to reach out for him. But she refused, her hands fell limply to her sides, and out of habit, she locked them behind her back. “Dale, you-”

  He shook his head. Laying one finger across her mouth, cutting off whatever she had intended to say, he said softly, “Then, it’s not important. He doesn’t matter.”

  “Dale…”

  Leaning back, staring down into her misty gray eyes, he admitted, “I don’t want to kno
w.” Taking a deep breath, he schooled his features, calmed his voice. “I don’t want to know, Lauren. I don’t need to. I’m going to be this baby’s father. I’ve been there with you on this practically from the beginning. I’m going to be there when you deliver. I’m going to be there when it’s time for midnight and two a.m. feedings. That makes me the father. That’s all that matters.”

  Coward. Lauren eyed her reflection owlishly, running a hand through her sleep tangled hair. She should have pushed it, should have just told him flat out. Why didn’t she?

  Because you’re a coward, she told herself bitterly. She was afraid he would get so angry, angry enough to walk away from her. That was something people did rather easily, when it came to her.

  Sleep eluded her all night. Guilt, she supposed. But, Lauren knew, if she had to make the choice all over again, not knowing how things would turn out, she would make the same choice. She had no way of knowing that Dale would fall in love with her, no way of knowing that he would be eager to raise a child. No way of knowing that she would fall even more in love with him than she had already.

  If I lose him, it is going to destroy me, she thought helplessly.

  “He’s going to figure it out sooner or later, Lauren,” she whispered to her reflection as she raised the brush to her hair. She stroked it through her heavy fall of hair as a tear spilled over and fell down her cheek. Stroke after stroke, tear after tear, she damned herself for being so pathetically scared.

  She could only hope that he loved her enough to forgive her.

  * * * * *

  Her wedding day dawned cold and dreary. Lauren splashed cool water on her face, battling back a severe case of bridal jitters. She really could have used a drink or ten the previous night. Jennifer Langley, one of her few friends, spent the night, patting her back when the nerves got bad, letting her sniffle on her shoulder the one time tears arose.

  But Lauren would have loved to be able to go out, party with friends, drink herself senseless so the guilt wouldn’t keep her awake. Of course, even wishing to seek oblivion with alcohol had her cringing in even more guilt. Bad mom, bad mom, bad mom, she told herself silently.

  Hours later, after a long bath and cool compresses to her red eyes, Lauren walked out of the house, clad in jeans and a sweatshirt, the last time as a single woman. Six and a half months pregnant, she was about to marry the father of her baby, only he didn’t know he was the father.

  Jennifer chattered on easily, used to Lauren’s sometimes quiet moods. She was probably attributing this to bridal jitters and nothing more. Lauren hadn’t confided in anyone, even though she desperately wanted to.

  But if Dale didn’t know, nobody would.

  The small country church was tucked away in one of the valleys that hid in the hills of Floyd County. Simple and basic, much like the wedding itself. Lauren had considered just going to a Justice of the Peace, but had decided against it.

  Dale had been relieved, even though she knew he tried to hide it. But she could almost hear him thinking, A wedding is held in a church. Business meetings are held in the county courthouse.

  The ceremony was to be attended by close friends only, including her agent and his, his parents, his only brother, and a handful of others. Jennifer would stand as Lauren’s single attendant, her simple suit of forest green matching the holiday decorations. Lauren stared at her reflection in the mirror as Jennifer swept her hair up in a Gibson girl style twist, leaving tendrils hanging at her neck and ears.

  Her dress was old fashioned, with a high neck, long flowing sleeves ending in banded cuffs three inches wide at her wrists. The waist was low, around her hips. The dress fell straight down from her breasts, her rounded belly almost imperceptible. Simple ivory drops hung at her ears. She wore thigh high stockings more from necessity than out of a need to entice. She couldn’t stand the way pantyhose felt against her sensitive belly. Low heeled lace up boots of ivory leather completed the look.

  “You’re nervous,” Jennifer said quietly, smiling slightly as she looped a tendril of hair then secured it with a bobby pin. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you really nervous and I’ve known you for ten years now.”

  “I’m getting married. That’s reason enough to be nervous, don’t you think?” Lauren replied, keeping her voice low and level by sheer will power.

  She only smiled, fussing a bit more with Lauren’s hair. “I’m so happy for you,” Jennifer said softly. “You love him.”

  “Yes.” Lauren sighed, closing her eyes. “Yes, I love him. I can’t remember not loving him.”

  “I can’t remember you not loving him either.”

  Her eyes flew open and met the knowing green eyes in the mirror. “You knew?”

  She shrugged. “I know you about as well as anybody could. I saw how you were around him. You were never indifferent to him, like you were with every guy I’ve seen you with since high school. He shook you up, he made you think. He made you mad.” She laid the brush down, and came around to kneel by the chair. “You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you.”

  With a look at the clock, Jennifer sighed and said, “It’s time.” She hugged Lauren and rose to her feet. She handed Lauren her bouquet and headed for the door. They stood there, waiting until Jennifer’s husband knocked to let them know. “One more thing.”

  She remained silent until Lauren met her eyes. “Don’t you think you should tell him that he is the father?” Before Lauren could close her mouth, Jenny had opened the door and left her standing there.

  Later, inside the elegant restaurant, Lauren met Jennifer in the bathroom while they waited for the dinner to be served. “How did you know?” she asked, her voice trembling.

  Jennifer shook her head with a smile on her face. “You wouldn’t have slept with anybody else, not loving him the way you do. Maybe it’s just me, but I can’t believe he never saw how you felt. He knows you; he should have seen it the way I did.” Folding her hands around Lauren’s, she asked, “But I’m kind of curious. Why doesn’t Dale seem to know? Hell, I’m scared to say anything about it to Mike. He’d screw up and let it slip and that info needs to come from you, sweetie. ”

  Lauren remained silent, chewing nervously on her lip, wearing away her lipstick.

  Jennifer sighed, glaring at Lauren as she repeated slowly, “Lauren, why doesn’t he know?

  Most guys remember when they sleep with their best buddy.”

  “He was… he was drunk,” Lauren replied, her voice soft, sad. “He doesn’t remember. I don’t think he even knew who I was.” Her eyes misted over and tears welled up. Letting her head fall back, she stared up at the ceiling and said flatly, “He called me by her name, Jenny. That woman I told you about.”

  “Oh. Oh, honey,” Jennifer murmured sympathetically, wrapping her arm around

  Lauren and hugging her tightly.

  “He forgot all about it,” she whispered. “It meant less than nothing to him. I had dreamed of being with him, of him making love to me and telling me how much he loves me. And instead, he fucks me up against a wall and calls me somebody else.”

  “I guess I understand,” Jennifer said softly, her mouth twisting in a snarl. “I think I would have killed him, if I were you, but I understand.”

  “I know I should have told him. I still should,” Lauren muttered, as the outraged feminine anger she had buried deep inside started to raise its ugly head.

  “Why didn’t you? I mean,” Jennifer paused and spread her hands wide, staring hard at her best friend, “I mean, why didn’t you tell him right up front? Smack him in the head with that damn whisky bottle and let him have it?”

  Swallowing the lump in her throat, she blinked away the tears. “He passed out right after it happened. Right on top of me. I left. He didn’t remember a damn thing. I didn’t expect to get pregnant. Completely wrong time of month.”

  “How many babies started out that way?” Jenny asked, shaking her head. “I still don’t understand why you keep avoiding telling him. H
e needs to know. Why don’t you just come out and say it?”

  “I tried.” Lauren grimaced as she settled onto the stool in front of the lighted mirror. She stared at her pale, composed face and admitted, “Not very hard. But he said he didn’t want to know, didn’t need to know, so I let it go. I took the easy way out.”

  “Lauren…”

  “Because,” she whispered harshly, “I don’t want to lose him.” Tears glittered in her eyes but she refused to let them fall. She’d brought this on herself, and, damn it, she wouldn’t cry about it.

  Seeing those tears, hearing the fear that made her voice quiver, shook Jenny. This was a woman who had always been a rock, as steady and unflappable as they came. That vulnerability damn near broke Jennifer’s heart. The smaller woman wrapped her arms around Lauren’s shoulders and hugged her. “I’m behind you always, Lauren. I want you to know that. But this is going to backfire. He will find out. It will catch up with you.”

  Lauren raised haunted eyes to meet Jennifer’s. “I know.”

  She was so beautiful it made his heart ache just to look at her. Dale watched as she walked with Jennifer back to the table, as graceful as a woman could possibly be, despite the fact that she was almost into the last trimester of pregnancy. As she walked, she brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, the diamond and pearl band on her finger sparkling.

  His wife.

  Cool to the point of being icy, serious, with eyes that could see clear to his soul. Lauren was not what he had envisioned in a wife. Life with her was not going to be easy. Loving her wasn’t going to be easy.

  His wife.

  Hot damn, his wife.

  The nerves were gone, almost as suddenly as they had come. Eagerness had settled in, eagerness to get home with his new bride and consummate the marriage he hadn’t thought he wanted. Eagerness to start the family he had sworn he would never have.

  With a contented smile, he placed his hand on her lower back, massaging the tension that so often lingered there. She slid him a slow, sweet smile, her eyes glowing with promises.

  His wife.

  * * * * *