“Except it feels awful, knowing a secret about someone—and not just someone, my father.”
“Let’s put these two to bed and then I’ll make us comfort food for dinner and we’ll talk it out.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Liam said.
Comfort food. Smart woman talking him through this. Just what the doctor ordered. They headed upstairs to the nursery bathroom, took care of baths, fresh pajamas, two stories, three songs and many kisses good-night. Both boys stirred and fussed a bit before finally falling asleep, but finally, Liam heard nothing but Shelby’s cat, which had taken up residence at his ranch, meowing for her dinner.
“How about you feed Lulu while I take care of dinner,” Shelby said with a smile.
Liam knew he had the easier job and gave the cat her can of ocean fish in gravy. “Can I help?” he asked Shelby.
“You can take this and yourself into the living room and relax,” she said, handing him a beer.
“You’re good to me,” he said.
“You’re good to me.”
The marriage was a success. Plain and simple. Granted, they’d been married since Tuesday, but it was working. They were good to each other. Good for each other. And good for Alexander and Shane.
Liam sat down on the couch, put his feet up on the coffee table, and enjoyed his beer, trying to not think too much about whether or not he was going to tell his father about the letter. Every time he thought he made the right choice, he’d change his mind.
“Dinner is served,” Shelby said, coming in with a tray that she set on the coffee table. “My favorite comfort food. And I’m going to admit that I didn’t make it. It’s Norah’s special tonight at the Pie Diner. Beef pot pie.”
“It smells amazing,” he said, sniffing the air. His mouth was already watering for it.
She cut him a big slice, succulent beef stew, soft chunks of potatoes, carrots and who knew what else making for a great-smelling dinner. He took a bite—delicious. “Please tell Norah this is the best pot pie I’ve ever had.”
She smiled. “I will.”
“What do you think I should do?” he asked. “About the letter?”
“What I think is that you know your father best. I did agree with what Pearl said, that sharing the letter with him may be the right choice if it would benefit him. But I was thinking about how everyone involved has passed on,” she pointed out. “His parents. Jeannie. He’d have Pearl for information, but the three people he’d really want to talk to about it are gone.”
He hadn’t considered that. “That’s a good point.”
Shelby took a bite of her pot pie. “What she said about Jeannie really touched me. How alone she was. It made me think about how lucky I am to have my family. I can always count on them. And for your father, he has a loving family, too. He has your mother, you, your brother. So if you did decide to share the letter, he wouldn’t be alone. He may not be able to turn to his parents or Jeannie for answers or clarification, but he’d have you guys.”
“Another good point.”
She smiled. “Not very helpful, I know.”
Liam sipped his beer. “I’ve been trying to think about how telling him would help him see that DNA isn’t the be all and end all. That not having Mercer DNA doesn’t make him less of a Mercer. I’m still a Mercer, right? If I am, then Alexander is. Same as Shane. None of us is more Mercer than another. Especially given the new information we have about my father.”
“Except he feels how he feels. The news might devastate him.”
“Except it shouldn’t. He’s still the same person he was. That’s what he needs to understand. Which makes me think I should tell him.”
“You’ll do the right thing,” she said. “That’s all I really know for sure.”
“I appreciate your faith in me. Believe me. Sometimes I have zero in myself.”
She reached over and kissed him on the cheek and again, he took her face in his hands and kissed her.
But this time, she kissed him back.
Which made pulling away impossible.
He couldn’t if he wanted to. And he didn’t want to. He wanted Shelby in his arms. His hands were suddenly everywhere, in her hair and under her sweater, moving to her waist and rib cage and her breasts, hidden by something lacy. He kissed her hard, leaning her back on the couch, and she wrapped her arms around him, her husky breaths and little moans pushing him toward the edge.
She shifted slightly. “Liam, not to be a cliché, but I don’t want to do anything you’re going to regret.”
“What?” he asked, kissing her neck.
“Right now you’re caught up in the moment. You’re turned on. You’re not thinking. And when you do start thinking, like after we’ve had sex, when we’re spooned together and you’re suddenly itchy and uncomfortable and realizing you messed up your perfect vision of our family unit partnership. You’ll pull away, I’ll get hurt and guess what—the discord you were afraid of from the start.”
He reached up a hand to her face, to her soft cheek in a gesture of thanks. She cares about me, for real, he realized.
And that was scary enough to make him sit up.
“You’re absolutely right,” he said. “Thank God one of us is always on their toes.”
She moved a few inches away on the couch, clasping her hands in her lap. “I need to be careful with you, Liam. Very careful.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning we’re obviously physically attracted to each other. We’re married. We share a home, a family, a crazy situation that brought us very close. If I give in to how I’m feeling, my inhibitions loosened with a glass of wine, I could end up losing everything that matters to me. You know, I used to think you were being too cautious. But now, who knows what would happen if we hated each other’s guts? If we were fighting for custody. And for whom?”
His stomach churned. But I want you so bad, he thought. You’re one hundred percent right, yet how am I going to keep my hands off you? You’re all I think about now.
“Let’s eat,” she said. “And watch the news. That’s always good for killing the mood.”
As she pointed the remote at the big-screen TV, Liam sighed inwardly and picked up his plate. Hadn’t he told Shane how important it was to surround yourself with smart women? Shelby was being smart. A hell of a lot smarter than Liam had acted a minute ago.
But he wasn’t supposed to want her with this kind of ferocity. He wasn’t supposed to fall in love with her.
His own wife.
* * *
Fool, Shelby chastised herself as she tossed and turned in bed—alone. Yes, she believed every word of what she’d said to stop him, to stop them, from getting into trouble, from doing anything that could jeopardize their very good arrangement. Their marriage.
Sometimes when Shelby thought about the way they were both keeping one giant step back from each other—emotionally, physically—the whole idea seemed so dopey. Just kiss and make love and go from there, idiots! she wanted to yell at them sometimes. And if it turned out that Liam was hot for her physically but thought she was a snooze otherwise? Then what? They’d be “friends with benefits” but married? Or what if they made love and she realized she just didn’t feel “that way” about him? He’d be hurt and suddenly there would be cold shoulders and distance and who would pay? Two six-month-olds, that was who.
Not worth the cost. Being with Liam, truly being with him, was priceless. But losing her babies? She wouldn’t jeopardize having both of them in her life every day, living with them as a family. She couldn’t.
So great. She and Liam were on the same page. To cold showers and wishing things could be different.
She flipped onto her stomach. Then on her back. Then to her side. Her other side. Dammit! She couldn’t get comfortable. She wasn’t comfortable.
Because she already loved her hus
band. And was just not acting on that love. She knew Liam cared about her, but she wouldn’t say he loved her. Wanted her, maybe. Okay, definitely. He’d proved that tonight. But a man as passionate as Liam Mercer wouldn’t be able to control himself to the degree he had so far if he loved her. Hadn’t he said over and over that what he wanted most was for the four of them to be a family unit? He was a red-blooded male, he was attracted to her and he’d acted on that a time or two. Didn’t mean he was in love.
So get your head out of the clouds, Shelby.
And get out of bed, she told herself. She might as well go check on the babies.
She put on the fancy spa bathrobe that Liam had provided her in her en-suite bath, then padded down the hall. A soft light glowed from the nursery. The night-lights?
She pushed open the door. Liam was fast asleep in the glider by the window, Moo Baa, La, La, La open on his lap. Once again, he was shirtless. In sweatpants. Barefoot. And so sexy she could hardly take it.
Sexy because he was hot, hot, hot.
Sexy because he was kind.
Sexy because he was a great father.
Sexy because he was a good husband.
How much longer could they really go on this way? Both afraid of getting hurt. Both afraid of destroying the family? Both afraid of losing Shane and Alexander. Was this what they wanted to teach their children? To avoid real life and real emotion and how messy the heart could get?
Shelby sighed and headed back to her room. Tomorrow, Liam would tell his father about the letter—or not. She had a feeling that doing so, or not doing so, would change him forever.
But in what way?
Chapter Thirteen
In the morning, with ten minutes to go until opening time, Shelby held Alexander against her chest and showed him the new collection of paintings that had been donated to the shop from a regular customer who’d inherited them from her grandmother and hated them all. Shelby liked quite a few of them and knew they’d sell, and the drearier still lifes might appeal to someone.
“What do you think, Alexander? I love the way the artist used a hint of pink to brighten up the gray sea in the background. And do you see the rowboat? I’d love to take you and Shane out on a rowboat when you’re older and—”
A wheeze suddenly came out of Alexander’s tiny body, a raspy cough that froze Shelby. And was it her imagination or was Alexander’s face suddenly flushed—and mottled? He fussed and squirmed, and she put her hand to his forehead. Hot. Very hot. He coughed, wheezed again and Shelby’s heartbeat sped up.
“Oh, no. You definitely have a high fever.” She dashed upstairs to her apartment, where the nursery was still intact. She took Alexander’s temperature. Scarily high. Grabbing her cell phone, she called the pediatrician, the same one she used for Shane, and was told to take him to the clinic right away and that he’d meet her there. She called Liam and explained the situation.
“Wheezing?” Liam repeated. “Like a cough from a cold? A high fever? That’ll go down with some baby Tylenol, right? I mean, it’s nothing, right?”
“Well, a fever that high can be alarming in babies, so Dr. Lewis just wants to examine him, make sure he doesn’t need fluids—just double-check everything is okay.”
“I’ll meet you at the clinic in ten minutes. Shane’s in the day care, well taken care of.”
“Perfect,” she said. “See you soon.”
In less than ten minutes, Shelby was at the clinic. Dr. Lewis arrived quickly after and led the way into an examining room. Just as his stethoscope was going into his ears, a nurse led Liam into the room. He looked very worried.
He reached for her hand and held it, and again Shelby was struck by how real a couple they seemed, acted like—were, except for that one major area. Regardless, she sure was glad he was here.
“Well,” Dr. Lewis said, “from the fever, wheezing and listening to his chest, it’s clear he has RSV—respiratory syncytial virus—a common childhood illness that often first strikes before two years of age.”
“Is it serious?” Liam asked.
“It’s serious, not life-threatening—no worries there. He has a touch of bronchiolitis, which means we’ll need to watch his airways. He’ll need to stay at the clinic for a few days so we can monitor him around the clock and also because he’ll be contagious for at least a week.”
“A week? But Alexander and Shane share a nursery at the ranch. There’s a guest room we can move Alexander into when he’s discharged.”
“I don’t think the two babies should share a home for at least a week,” Dr. Lewis said. “Just to be safe. RSV is highly contagious.”
“I’ll keep Alexander at the apartment,” Shelby suggested. “Shane can stay at the ranch with you. That way we can be sure Alexander will be fully cured before he comes back to the ranch. Shane will have less chance of catching RSV that way.”
“I think that’s the way to go,” Dr. Lewis said.
Separated.
Just like they didn’t want.
“It’s just for a week,” Liam said, his hand on Shelby’s arm. “A week is nothing. We’re in this for a lifetime.”
She nodded and actually did feel better. In the grand scheme of things, a week was nothing. But every hour of every day would crawl by. She was glad to see Alexander through his illness, but she hated the idea of being away from Shane for so long. And Liam.
“I’ll call my family and let them know what’s going on. Expect pie deliveries,” she said, mustering a smile.
“Pie always helps.”
“Call your dad,” she said. “One word about Alexander being sick and stuck in the clinic for days and he’ll rush over with a life-size stuffed bull.”
Liam frowned. “Bull being the key word, unfortunately. I’m sure he won’t. Alexander isn’t his real grandson, remember?”
“Liam, a baby in the hospital has a way of knocking through very stubborn walls. Call him.”
“I’ll call,” he said. “But I’m not expecting his feelings to suddenly change.”
Shelby sure hoped she was right about his dad. If she wasn’t, it was the Mercer family that might never recover.
* * *
Liam delegated the afternoon’s work to his cousin Clara, who promised to visit Alexander in the clinic when she left the office, and then he headed over to his parents’ house with Shane. Shelby was right. She had to be right. His father would have a complete meltdown over his beloved Alexander being so sick and in the clinic for a few days. Liam figured he should tell his parents in person so that he and his father could begin mending their relationship right away. He didn’t need problems with his father to burn in his gut when he was worried sick over his son.
His mother wasn’t home, but his father was in his home office, having a glass of scotch and reading dossiers on companies that Mercer Industries might look into acquiring.
“There he is, my young man,” Harrington Mercer said, his gaze on Shane in Liam’s arms. He stood up and came around his deck, smiling at the baby. “Let me have my grandson.”
Liam froze. The split second was long enough for his father to pluck Shane out of his grip and hoist him high in the air.
“Aren’t you a magnificent young man,” Harrington said. “We have a lot of catching up to do. I was just looking at companies that MI might buy. Here, come see.”
He took Shane back around his desk and sat down, the baby gurgling happily on his lap. “Winston Tech had a terrible quarter. And honestly, I don’t think their products are top-notch. Let’s move on to Branston Manufacturing—”
“Dad,” Liam said. “There’s something you should know. Alexander is sick. He has RSV and it grew into bronchiolitis. He’ll be at the Wedlock Creek Clinic for around three days, and then he’ll stay with Shelby at her apartment while I keep Shane at the ranch to make sure Shane doesn’t catch it.”
“Well, that’s smart,” Harrington said. “Trust me, Shane, you don’t want to catch some nasty virus. You’d miss a ton. Every day you soak up countless bits of knowledge and—”
Liam frowned. He waited a beat. His father continued chatting to Shane about osmosis and paying attention and how when he was three and started preschool, Harrington would add a home-school business segment to his curriculum. “Are you going to ask if Alexander is going to be okay?” Liam practically growled.
“I’m sure he is,” Harrington said.
“He’s going to be at the clinic for days, Dad.”
“And he’ll be fine when he’s released.”
A hot burst of anger, bordering on rage, bubbled in Liam’s chest. “Jesus, you really don’t care, do you?”
“Liam, for God’s sake, stop overreacting. Alexander is no longer my grandson and you know it. He’s an Ingalls. His people run the Pie Diner. This,” he said, hoisting up Shane again, “is my grandson. And I need to focus on getting to know him.”
Liam stormed around the desk and grabbed Shane away from his father. Shane stared at him, his little face crumpling. He rocked the baby a bit and patted his back. “Sorry, little guy. It’s okay. Everything is okay.”
But it wasn’t. Not by a longshot.
“Goodbye, then,” Liam said. “You don’t know the meaning of family.” He turned to leave, prepared to estrange himself from his father until the man woke up, which might never happen.
His father stood up. “Liam.”
He turned, his stomach twisting. Harrington’s expression was one Liam didn’t often see. It looked to him like resignation.
“DNA matters,” his father said. “Whether you like it or not.”
He should just come out with it, tell his father what he’d learned about his own DNA, show him the letter, introduce him to Pearl. But to what end? To hurt him because Liam was hurt?
Tell him if there’ll be some benefit, Pearl had said.
Would there be? If DNA mattered that much to his father, the truth about himself would destroy him. That wasn’t what Liam wanted, either.
The Baby Switch! Page 15