The Nurse Who Saved Christmas

by Janice Lynn

  Mixed emotions flashed across her face, mostly irritation. “Just because you don’t understand my love of Christmas, it doesn’t mean you get to prioritize my activities. Volunteering is important to me.”

  Shifting the grocery bag, he gave her an exasperated look. “What about our baby’s well-being? Doesn’t that count for something?”

  “I’m not going to dignify that with an answer.” Turning away, she walked over to the sofa, sat and wrapped a blanket around herself. The same blanket she’d wrapped around her almost naked body just a few nights ago.

  Dirk swallowed. Hard.

  “Christmas makes me happy.” She looked like a vulnerable child, one he wanted to take into his arms and hold. But she wasn’t a child. And if she were in his arms, he’d want much more than to hold her. She was a grown woman, a woman who he’d thought about almost nonstop since the night they’d met, a woman he desperately wanted. Why did he get the feeling Christmas meant more to Abby than the obvious?

  “Look, you don’t have to check on me just because I’m pregnant.” She pulled the blanket more tightly around herself, causing the cat, which had jumped up next to her, to look annoyed. She picked up the fat cat, placing the animal in her lap and stroking her fingers over his fur. “Actually, I’d prefer it if you didn’t.”

  “Why not?” He moved into her line of sight, but didn’t sit down, just stood, watching her, wondering why she was shutting him out. His reaction on the day they’d found out she was pregnant hadn’t been the greatest, but the news had caught him off guard. Way off guard. He’d have sworn she understood, that she didn’t want a baby any more than he did. Finding out she was having a baby, that the rest of her life was going to be vastly different than she’d thought couldn’t have been any easier for her than it had been for him. Probably, the news had been more stressful to her. But he was trying. He was concerned, wanted what was best for her and their baby. Why was she being so difficult?

  “We’re not a couple, Dirk. We weren’t before this and we aren’t now,” she pointed out, scratching behind her cat’s ears. “People are getting the wrong idea.”

  “What?” Was she serious? “How could they get the wrong idea? You’re pregnant with my baby.”

  “Neither of us wanted this baby.”

  He winced. What she said was true, and yet to hear the words come out of her sweet lips so bluntly felt wrong. He’d never considered having more children, never considered starting over. He didn’t want to start over, but neither did he want to father an unwanted child.

  “Whether or not we want to be parents, Abby, we’re going to be. We have to do what’s best for the baby.” God, he sounded so logical, so clinical. Did she have any idea how awkward this was for him? Standing above her, holding the groceries he’d brought to make her something to eat, her refusing to even look at him.

  Her gaze remained fixed on where she petted her purring cat, her long fingers stroking back and forth. Lucky cat.

  “I’m not stupid, Dirk. I will do what’s best for the baby. But for now I want time.”

  “We don’t have to tell anyone for a while, but you won’t be able to hide your pregnancy for long, Abby. Decisions will have to be made. Soon.”

  Looking unsure for the first time since he’d arrived, she pulled her knees up, dropped her head onto them, burying her face in the folds of the blanket. “I hate this.”

  Helplessness washed over him. She looked so alone, so stressed. He wanted to take her into his arms, to hold her and never let go. But he just stood there. Taking her into his arms would accomplish what? Other than send his libido through the roof? Besides, he wasn’t so sure she’d welcome his embrace.

  As if sensing his thoughts, sensing his need for her to look at him, she glanced up with red-rimmed, watery eyes. “You seem to be handling this fairly well this morning.”

  Dirk felt as if a string of Christmas lights had been twisted around his throat and cut off his air supply.

  Looks could be deceiving. He wasn’t handling anything. But not wanting to deal with something didn’t mean one could just ignore life’s realities. He’d learned that lesson well.

  “There’s really no choice. Which means we have to make plans.”

  She inhaled deeply and let her breath out slowly. “Plans?”

  “To protect you and the baby.”

  “No.” Her jaw dropped and she shook her head in short little jerks. “I’m not going to marry you, Dirk. Don’t even ask. That would just be compounding our mistakes and, honestly, if you did I think…well, just don’t.”

  Ouch. She had a way of striking beneath his armor. “I didn’t plan to ask you to marry me, Abby. Although if that’s what you wanted, I wouldn’t deny your request under the circumstances.”

  “My request? Under the circumstances?” She snorted. “I’m pregnant, Dirk. Not dying. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself and this baby, too. I don’t need you.”

  Did she think he’d just walk away and forget she was having his baby? Then the truth hit him. For all her bravado, Abby was scared. She did want his concern, but didn’t know the first thing about accepting that concern. He’d gotten the impression her family had been close before her parents’ deaths. What had happened to her after that? Had she been taken care of? Loved?

  “Yes,” he said softly, “you do.”

  She glanced up again. Surprise flickered in her eyes. “How dare you presume you know what I need? You know nothing about me.”

  He knew she was a prickly little thing when she was on the defensive. But why was she on the defensive with him? It just didn’t feel right. Didn’t she know she could trust him? That he’d never hurt her?

  What was that she’d said at the Christmas party?

  Maybe not intentionally.

  She’d been right. He had hurt her. They just hadn’t known it at the time. But he refused to accept her assessment that he knew nothing about her.

  “I know more than you think. You’re a great nurse. A caring woman. A fantastic lover.” Her lower lip disappeared into her mouth, vulnerability shining so brightly in her eyes it almost blinded him. “And I believe you’re going to be a great mother to our baby.”

  The tears Abby had been fighting pricked her eyes. How dared he come into her house and spout off sweet words like that after the awful morning she’d spent tossing and turning on the sofa? The sofa because she hadn’t been able to get comfortable in her bed, had given up and curled up in the living room, staring at her mother’s Christmas village pieces, wishing she could lose herself in that happy little world. Finally, she’d dozed a little.

  She loved nursing and liked to believe he was right, that she was a great nurse. She could also go with the caring woman. She did care about others. But a fantastic lover? What a joke.

  “We both know I wasn’t a fantastic lover.” She snorted softly at the mere idea of him thinking her fantastic. Not that he’d complained but, still, she doubted she’d been fantastic or anywhere close.

  “Yes, you were, Abby.” He set the bag on her coffee table, squatted next to her and reached for her hand.

  “So fantastic you couldn’t run away fast enough.” She stuck her hands under the blanket, anywhere to keep him from touching her. She couldn’t think when he did that. Not that she was thinking clearly anyway. Not after discovering she was going to be a mother, not sleeping much, and crying a whole lot.

  He touched her anyway, running his fingers along the side of her face, into the edges of her wild-about-her-head hair. “So fantastic just remembering takes my breath away.”

  Why did she want to lean against him? To toss the blanket away and fall into his arms and cry until there were no more tears left?

  “Why are you here, Dirk?” she asked, wishing he’d go, would leave her to what so far had been a less than stellar day. “Just go home.”

  “Can’t do,” he said, shaking the burgeoning plastic bag he’d put on the coffee table. “I brought you breakfast. Or lunch.” He glanced a
t his wristwatch. “Or dinner. Whatever you want to call it. Regardless, I’m going to make you a healthy meal.”

  Just the thought of breakfast made her stomach heave. She grimaced. “Food is the last thing I want right now.”

  “You have to eat.”

  She rolled her eyes. “What would be the point?”

  He stared at her for long moments and when she met his gaze, his were so intent she couldn’t look away even though she desperately wanted to.

  “Abby, you’ve got to stop arguing with me.”

  She bit the inside of her lip. “Who’s arguing?”

  Stroking his fingers along the side of her face, he sighed. “This is certainly a side of you I’ve never seen.”

  She was sure it was a side he wished he still hadn’t seen. Unbrushed hair, makeup-less face, nauseated-all-morning pallor. She wouldn’t win any beauty prizes on her best days. Today she might send small children running for the hills.

  “No one invited you here or is making you stay,” she reminded him, chin lifting.

  But rather than take offense at her unusual surliness, he just smiled, as if he knew some secret she didn’t.

  “Go take a shower. You’ll feel better.” Another of those dazzling smiles that it really wasn’t fair for him to be flashing when she felt so… What was it she felt? Hadn’t she decided the other night at the hospital that their baby was a gift? One that she’d treasure? But right now Dirk’s smile, his gorgeous face and body, just annoyed her. How dared he look so wonderful when she felt so awful?

  “I’ll slice fresh fruit and cook breakfast.” He leaned forward, dropped a kiss at her temple, lingered a brief moment.

  Oh, my. If she didn’t know better she’d swear he was breathing in her scent.

  “How do you like your eggs, Abby?” Oh, he’d definitely nuzzled her just then, his hot breath caressing her cheek, burning her all the way down to her toes.

  “Have you not heard a word I’ve said? I don’t want breakfast. I don’t want a shower.” Well, a long shower would be nice and the hot water might ease her achy body. “I just want to be left alone.”

  He cupped her face, holding her gaze to his. “No.”

  Abby gawked, not believing his high-handedness. “No?”

  “I’m not leaving, Abby.” This time his lips brushed her face, trailing light kisses on her cheek. “Not when you’re like this.”

  Shivering from his touch, she took a deep breath. “Like what? I’m fine.”

  He didn’t laugh, but he could have. She was so far from fine that no one would have thought less of him if he’d had a good chuckle at her comment. She felt on the verge of screaming, crying, laughing hysterically, throwing herself into his arms and begging him to love her, an entire plethora of heightened emotions all surging at once through her hormonal system.

  “It’s going to be okay, Abby.” He brushed her hair away from her face, stared into her eyes and warmed a place deep inside her that she hadn’t realized had chilled the moment he’d said she was pregnant. “I’m as scared as you are about this, but somehow this is all going to be okay. We’ll make it okay. Together.”

  When his lips covered hers, she let herself believe him. Let herself give in to the temptation of his touch, the warmth of his caresses, the power of the emotions between them.

  She couldn’t exactly recall how Mistletoe ended up in the floor and Dirk stretched out above her, his weight pressing her into the sofa, his mouth drawing out her every breath. She clung to him, loving the weight of him covering her, loving his strength, the need in his kisses, his touches.

  Rather than the frantic way they’d made love on that morning, or even their desperation the night of the Christmas party, their touches were slower, more drawn out, more everything.

  Her brain screamed in protest, reminding her she was supposed to be protecting her heart against him, not kissing him, not helping as he pulled her sweatshirt over her head, revealing her naked breasts to his eager inspection. His eager kisses.

  “I want you, Abby,” he breathed from between her breasts. “Let me love you.”

  Despite knowing she should stop him, should not expose her all too vulnerable heart, she couldn’t deny Dirk, not when his hot mouth felt so good on her body, not when she suspected he already owned her heart. All of her heart.

  She wanted his love. More than she’d ever dreamed of wanting anything in her whole life, she wanted this man. All of him. His mind, his body, his heart. Yes, she definitely wanted Dirk’s heart.

  She tugged his T-shirt free, helped pull the material over his head, bit back a groan at the beauty of his naked torso. He removed his jeans, her sweats, and was inside her in what seemed a single breath. No condom. What would be the point? Body to body. Soul to soul.

  “Abby,” he breathed against her mouth, staring into her eyes, moving inside her. “I’m not going to last long. Not like this. I—I need you so much. So much.”

  Clasping her hands with his, he drove deeper, so deep Abby lost where she ended and he began, gave herself over to the emotions flooding through her body, her heart.

  Not her heart, Dirk’s.

  If she’d had any doubts before, she no longer did. Her heart, all of her, belonged to him, completely and irrevocably.

  She wrapped her legs around him, drawing him deeper, deeper still. “I need you, too.”

  Saying the words out loud somehow made them more real, somehow made her feel more vulnerable. But looking into his eyes, seeing matching need, real need, she could only expose herself further.

  I love you.

  She wasn’t sure if she said the words out loud or just in her heart. Regardless, she felt them with all her soul, with everything she was.

  She loved Dirk.

  Much later, Abby didn’t eat any of the turkey bacon Dirk fried, but she did have a healthy portion of the freshly sliced cantaloupe, scrambled eggs and buttered toast. And didn’t dry heave once.

  Amazing what good sex did for a body. Not good sex. Great sex.

  No, not sex. No way could what they’d just shared be called mere sex. No, what they’d just done transcended everything.

  “Apparently—” she smiled, feeling a little shy “—I like your cooking better than my own.”

  “Impossible.” His grin was contagious, complete. Real. “I’ve had your fudge, Abby. You’re a whiz in the kitchen.”

  “Thanks.” She watched him feed Mistletoe the leftover bacon. The cat purred against his leg, brushing against him time and again. Mistletoe wasn’t the only one wanting to rub against Dirk. “My cat will forever be begging for more.”

  Just like she worried she’d be begging for more of the attention he’d shown her this morning. Wow.

  Lord help her! She loved him.

  The man had cooked her breakfast, made wonderful love to her until they’d both cried out. Afterwards, he’d held her. Held her tightly to him, stroking his fingers across her belly. She’d wished she’d known what he’d been thinking, wished she’d known if his caress had been incidental or if he’d purposely touched her where their baby grew.

  She stood, intending to help clear away the dishes, but Dirk motioned for her to sit.

  “I’m pregnant, Dirk, not disabled. You cooked. I clean.”

  “No.” He shook his head, pointing at her chair. “My treat.”

  Okay, part of her thrilled at the idea that he was pampering her. Had she ever been pampered in her life? She didn’t think so. Not since her mom and dad had died.

  “I can wash dirty dishes,” she assured him, not wanting the way he’d treated her at work to extend into her home. She wasn’t an invalid. “Besides, you really didn’t make that much of a mess. It won’t take but a jiffy to clean.”

  “Probably not, but today is my treat. Take a load off, Abby.”

  She stood next to her chair, eyeing him, yet again wishing she could read his thoughts. “Why?”

  “What do you mean, why? Can’t I do something nice for you without you ques
tioning my motives?”

  She bit into her lower lip. “Is it because you feel guilty?”

  “I am guilty, but that’s not why I’m here.”

  His blue eyes looked so sincere. “Then why?”

  He leaned back in his chair, looked perplexed, then shrugged. “I want to spend time with you.”

  “Because I’m pregnant?”

  He studied her a moment. “I’ve wanted to be with you from the moment we met, Abby. That’s how you ended up pregnant.”

  “I’m pregnant because we had a horrible night in the E.R.” She didn’t remind him of the similarities to his own tragic losses. She understood why he hadn’t wanted to be alone, forgave him for using her, found herself wanting to comfort him even more now that she understood why he’d been so deeply affected. But that wasn’t what earlier had been about, was it?

  “I’ve had horrible nights in the E.R. before and never slept with my nurse.”

  Why did that admission make her feel better, lighter, less used?

  “If the attraction hadn’t been so strong between us, no tragedy would have brought us together like that.” His confident tone left no room for doubt. “I made love to you because I wanted to make love to you. Just as I wanted to make love to you today. When I look at you, I can’t think about much of anything except having you.”

  Had he really just admitted that he wanted her? She’d thought so, but then the whole pregnancy issue had clouded her thinking yesterday and this morning. But he had wanted her. He’d said made love, not have comfort sex or one-night-stand sex or guilt sex.

  “And now?” she asked, grabbing at the rope he was throwing her, hoping it was long enough to save her, hoping she wasn’t grasping at straws. “Months went by with you barely acknowledging I existed outside work.”