“Okay,” Dex announced. “If you don’t want to know the sex, I suggest you close your eyes.”
Her gaze met Brett’s, but she couldn’t read anything in his dark gaze. “What do you think?”
“It’s up to you.”
“It’s up to us.” Brett had as much to do with Junior being here as she did. They were giving each other the greatest gift—a child to love and raise. Decisions had to be made together.
He straightened. “Let’s wait.”
“You’re the third couple today who didn’t want to know.” Dex pushed a button. “You’re stealing my thunder.”
“Sorry.” Laurel covered her eyes with her hands. “No peeking.”
Brett laughed. “Don’t tell me you never tried to find out what you were getting for Christmas.”
She kept her eyes closed. “One year, I found every single present. It was the worst Christmas of my life.”
More buttons clicked.
“You can open your eyes now,” Dex said.
“Could you tell?” she asked.
Smiling, Dex nodded. “If you want to know…”
“I don’t,” Brett replied.
“You’ll be able to find out from the amniocentesis report if you change your mind.” Dex tore off a picture from the machine. “Here’s a photo.”
Laurel held the piece of paper as if it were a newly discovered van Gogh. To her, the image was as valuable. More so, actually. “Thank you.”
Brett cleared his throat. “Could I have one, too?”
Dex pushed more buttons on the machine, and another photo appeared. “You can put this one on your desk.”
Brett grinned. “That’s what I was thinking.”
“Your doctor will get a full report,” Dex said, “but none of the markers for Down syndrome showed up on the ultrasound.”
“That’s great,” Laurel said.
Brett drew his brows together. “But you want to know for certain, right?”
She did except… If anything went wrong, she would lose not only Junior, but also Brett, too. A heaviness settled in her heart. Before seeing the baby, she’d been so certain about having the test done. Logically, she still wanted to know, but…
She glanced at Brett. “Is it still okay with you?”
♥ ♥ ♥
After the amniocentesis, Brett drove Laurel home and fixed her lunch. Once she’d eaten, she disappeared upstairs to take a nap. That had been two hours ago.
Concerned, Brett peeked inside her room. “Laurel?”
“Come in.” Her voice sounded so soft, almost fragile.
He stopped inside the doorway. Laurel lay on the bed, curled up on her left side. Her hair spread over the burgundy Egyptian-cotton pillowcase like strands of silk. Her bare feet stuck out from the bottom cotton-weave blanket covering her.
Her vulnerability touched his heart. He wanted to make everything better for her. If only he could…
“I brought you a few things.” He carried a stack of his clothing: sweatpants, sweatshirts, dress shirts. Until he’d seen her belly at the ultrasound, he hadn’t realized how big she was getting or how tight her clothes fit. Amazing what a long shirt could hide. He set the pile on the dresser. “These might be more comfortable for you to wear around the house.”
“Thanks. I thought about asking, but…”
“Next time, ask.”
Her eyes brightened. “I will.”
“Did you nap?”
She nodded. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”
He hadn’t, either. Neither said anything, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. “Can I get you anything?”
She started to speak but then stopped.
“What?” he asked.
“After everything that’s happened today, would you mind… Would you please hold me? Just for a minute.”
His pulse spurted. He couldn’t think of anything he’d rather do. “Should I set a timer?”
She smiled shyly.
He lay next to her. She scooted against him, her back to his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her, spooning her. “How’s this?”
“Perfect.” She sounded more relaxed. “Thanks.”
“Anytime.” And he meant it.
Brett buried his face in her hair, inhaling the minty scent of her shampoo. This was how they should be. Every day and every night.
Wait. What was he thinking? They were marrying because of the baby. No other reason. But as he held Laurel in his arms, forgetting that she wouldn’t be here without Junior was easy to do.
“We made the right decision having the amnio, didn’t we?” she asked.
Her “we” pleased him. “Yes. We discussed it.”
“I know, but…I hadn’t really considered the risks involved. I was only thinking about how badly I needed to know, even though knowing wouldn’t change anything.” She struggled to continue, and Brett tightened his arms around her. “I’m feeling selfish right now. A mother should put her child’s needs first.”
“You have put Junior first. You left Chicago. You got a job. You’re learning to handle your finances.”
“I keep telling myself everything I’m doing is for the baby, but today I had that test for me. Not Junior. Not you. If something happens because of the amnio—”
“It won’t.”
“You sound certain.”
“The risks of complications are low. Point six percent according to my internet search,” he said without any hesitation. “Junior will be fine.”
She half-laughed. “Everything always boils down to numbers for you. Must be nice.”
“Many things do, but not everything.” Laurel sure didn’t. She upended every calculation he’d made in the past and since she arrived.
“A baby certainly doesn’t. I know nothing about kids. You’d think they’d come with instructions.” She sighed. “I want to be a good mother, but what’s going to happen after I have Junior and we’re released from the hospital?”
“You’ll get home and figure it out. The way every other mother in the world does when she has her first child.”
“It’s scary to think about.”
“It is.”
“You don’t know how hearing you agree makes me feel.” Laurel snuggled closer. She fit so perfectly against him. Like two halves becoming one. “Not that you’re scared. You just seem to have everything together all the time.”
“Me? Hardly,” he admitted. “Why do you think I have those books? I’ve never changed a diaper before.”
“Me, neither.”
“Why don’t we sign up for one of those baby-care classes?”
“That would be great.” Enthusiasm and relief filled her voice. “Would you mind if I read some of your books?”
“Not at all,” he said. “We could read them aloud to each other, too.”
“That would be nice. Just like this is.” She placed her arm on top of his. “I’m so happy you’re the father of my baby. I couldn’t imagine going through this with anyone else.”
“Thanks, but what about your ex-fiancé?” He realized what he’d asked. “I’m sorry. That’s none of my business.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “Charles and I—my ex-fiancé was Charles Kingsley—”
“Kingsley Enterprises?” Brett knew the successful company well.
“Yes. Charles is the great-great-grandson of the first Kingsley. We grew up together. From the time we were children, our parents assumed we would marry and keep all that money in the family, so to speak. Love never entered into our relationship. Charles wanted an appropriate society wife, and I fit the bill with my pedigree and trust fund.”
That didn’t sound like much of a marriage to Brett, yet he wasn’t offering Laurel much more. But their situation was different. A baby, their baby, was involved. “Why did you agree to marry him?”
“I’ve asked myself that a million times,” Laurel admitted. “Charles was handsome and rich—perfect husband material, as my mother would say. I had
friends who were settling down. Everyone expected us to be together. Not the best reasons in the world to get married, but it made sense to get engaged at the time. Of course, I never knew…”
“What?”
“How much I would have been missing had I married Charles. We had lots in common, but we never advanced past the kissing stage. I’m not sure he was attracted to me.”
“You’re beautiful.”
She flushed. “Thank you, but Charles and I didn’t have any chemistry. There was no spark. I never wanted to do more than hug or kiss him, either.”
The guy must have had ice running through his veins or be blind not to want Laurel. “The two of you weren’t meant to be together.”
“You’re right.”
Brett couldn’t see her face, but he could almost hear the gears turning in her brain. “What are you thinking?”
“I always dreamed about how perfect my wedding would be, but the honeymoon… I never realized what my friends were talking about when they mentioned the, uh, physical side of their relationships, not until you kissed me during the wedding ceremony. I’d never felt fireworks like that before. I didn’t want the feeling to end.”
A satisfied smile formed on his lips. “Is that what you meant in your note about your expectations being exceeded?”
“Yes.” She glanced over her shoulder. “You remembered that part?”
“You could say the words stuck with me.”
“Everything stuck with me.”
If only she would stick with him!
“Thank goodness Charles Kingsley and I are no longer together,” she said, not an ounce of regret in her voice. “The second-best thing that ever happened to me was getting dumped by him.”
Brett’s curiosity got the better of him. “What was the best?”
“Marrying you in Reno.” She sighed. “You gave me a night I’ll never forget and a child. What more could a girl want?”
A ring on her left hand. He didn’t dare say that aloud.
Lacing her fingers with his, she placed them on her belly. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
Her words touched a part of him he hadn’t known existed. “So would I.”
Brett wouldn’t give up what he had now for anything. He had to show her…
“That’s nice to know.” She squeezed his hand. “What I can’t understand is why you’re still single? After all, you’re—”
“Handsome and rich?” he joked.
“Modest, too.” She sounded like she was smiling. He felt the remaining tension seep from her body. “How old are you, anyway?”
“Thirty-two.”
She inhaled sharply.
Brett tightened his arms around here. “What?”
“I can’t believe you’ve made it this long without a band of gold on your finger.”
Her surprised voice widened his grin. “You make thirty-two sound old.”
“You know what I mean.”
He did, but she was forgetting one thing. “I married you.”
“A one-night marriage.” She laughed, something he wanted to hear her do more often. “That’s what I call a lasting commitment.”
He could tell she was joking, but...
Just give me the chance.
The thought shocked him. This wasn’t a love match. He only wanted to marry her for Junior’s sake. Yet, his affection for Laurel was deepening.
He’d returned from Reno and went out with more women in the weeks that followed than he’d dated in months. After his fake marriage, he’d been eager to find the real thing, but none of the dates led anywhere and then he’d found out about Laurel and the baby. That had changed the way he’d pictured his future. “I’m willing to go all in and make that commitment.”
With you.
“Why haven’t you yet?” she asked.
“I’ve dated.”
He’d wanted to be with a woman with a pedigree and wealth, one who would give him validation and acceptance into Henry’s crowd.
Uh-oh. Brett sounded like her ex. He fought the urge to squirm. “But only one serious relationship.”
“You realize you’re a catch, right?”
“It’s just…” This was a touchy subject. One he didn’t share with others. But Laurel Worthington wasn’t just anyone. A point he wasn’t ready to contemplate too much. “The women I’ve wanted to get serious with weren’t interested in that kind of relationship with me.”
“Bullet dodged because they don’t sound very smart.”
She sounded so serious he couldn’t stop himself from chuckling. “Thanks, but most of them wanted someone like Henry Davenport, old money rather than nouveau riche like me.”
“Then they are stupid because, unlike you, Henry will never marry.”
“Dating is nothing more than a game to him.”
“At least he’s open about not settling down.”
“Henry uses honesty when it’s to his advantage. The same as he does with not telling the truth.” Henry called them omissions, not lies. So many times Brett and Henry had butted heads like two rams battling for territory on a mountainside. But Henry had still been Brett’s first account when he opened MGI, and Henry had brought in other wealthy clients to the firm. “There are times I feel we’re as close as brothers, yet in some ways, he can also seem like my nemesis.”
“Your feelings about him go beyond his relationship with his father?”
“Way beyond.” Disquieting memories made the past seem like yesterday. “We’re the same age, and grew up competing in everything—school, sports and, as we got older, women. There was one, Miriam. I had graduated college and was working for a local investment firm when we met. We’d been dating seriously for months. I thought she was the one and was about to propose, but when she found out I was the son of Henry’s housekeeper’s…”
“You never got the chance to ask her to marry you.”
His chest tightened. He was over her, but the rejection still stung. “She broke up with me, then went straight into Henry’s arms. That didn’t last, but…”
“I’m sorry, Brett. She has no idea what she missed out on.”
He didn’t know what he expected from Laurel, but her compassion was more than he’d hoped for.
“I can safely say Junior and I are happy you didn’t marry Miriam.” Relief filled Laurel’s voice. “Otherwise, we wouldn’t be here.”
Brett wanted to hold onto her and not let go. He couldn’t imagine Laurel being anywhere else but here in his arms.
He unlaced his hand from hers to touch her hair. The soft strands flowed through his fingers.
“Everything worked out the way it was supposed to,” she continued. “If I hadn’t lost all my money, I would have married Charles, and if you had had more money back then, you’d have married Miriam. Poor Junior would be nonexistent! Us meeting and marrying in Reno must have been fate.”
That was one way to look at it. Or he could blame Henry for having them get married on his birthday, but Brett preferred Laurel’s way of thinking. “Must have been.”
She rolled over and faced him. “What do you think fate has in store for us next?”
Brett caressed her cheek. No woman had a right to be this gorgeous. She glowed. “What do you want to happen?”
As if weighing the question, Laurel closed her eyes. “I want…”
She parted her lips—the only sign he needed. He brushed his mouth against hers. At the sweet taste of her, he knew Laurel had been right. Fate had brought them together.
But Brett didn’t want to push. He backed away.
As he outlined her lips with his fingertip, she stared up at him, her eyes full of desire and longing. He wanted to kiss her again. But only if she wanted that, too. He wasn’t sure what to do next, so he waited.
Laurel kissed him. Her lips moved over his, taking all he had to offer. Brett wanted to be gentle, tender, giving. But he wanted her so much, too much. His hunger took over, but Laurel didn’t flinch. She matched him kiss
for kiss without any hesitation, without any question. Her eagerness had him spinning out of control.
As he kissed her neck, soaking up the scent and taste of her smooth skin, she moaned. The sensuous sound nearly pushed him over the edge. She kneaded his shoulders and back. The feel of her hands on his muscles… He’d longed for her to touch him like this, like she had in Reno. Her caress felt better than it had then. He didn’t want her to stop touching him. Not ever.
As she trailed kisses from his mouth to his ear and then showered teasing nibbles on and around his earlobe, Brett thought he would explode. A few more minutes…
Who was he kidding? Another couple of seconds…
He pulled away.
Laurel’s flushed cheeks and swollen lips made him realize how out of hand things were getting, or would have gotten had they continued.
His heart pounded in his chest, and he struggled for a breath. He wanted to blame his reaction on the situation, the high emotion of the day. Wanted to chalk up his feelings to the physical nature of their kiss, though a kiss seemed like a weak definition of what they’d shared.
Everything he’d felt in Reno, he’d felt again. But being with her now was better. More satisfying.
He’d wanted to get married for the baby. That had been his only motivation to propose. He wasn’t going to have his child grow up without a father like he had. That was still true, but something was changing with Laurel.
The way he saw her. The way he felt about her. The vision of his future with her in it.
The realization frightened him.
Unsettled him.
Laurel had said she wasn’t the same woman she’d been in Chicago. Her current situation had played a role in that happening, but what if her circumstances changed for the better?
Would Laurel still want Brett if she didn’t need him?
No matter how he was feeling, he couldn’t afford to get too attached.
CHAPTER EIGHT
On Saturday morning, Laurel sat on the floor of the nursery. As she laid out the four-inch-high wooden alphabet letters, a heavy feeling settled in her chest.
Stop thinking.
She double-checked the letter colors against those in the comforter and crib skirt. A perfect match, but that didn’t stop tears from clouding her vision.
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