The Late Bloomer's Baby

by Kaitlyn Rice

  Ethan ripped out the check and handed it to Callie’s sister. “Excuse me, Izzy,” he said, moving into the hallway.

  “Callie, come down,” he shouted toward the ceiling. “I know you’re in the attic and I’m not leaving until we talk.”

  Silence. He returned his attention to the blushing Isabel, then crossed the hall to stare up the narrow stairway. “Callie, you’re being ridiculous.”

  Silence. He rested a foot on the bottom step. “I can climb the confounded stairs, Cal.”

  He heard the hiss of whispering voices, then the girl and boy came down, followed by Callie with the baby. She stopped at the bottom of the steps, ignoring Ethan and bouncing the little boy in her arms as if she was soothing him.

  But the baby was already chortling. While Callie scowled.

  Hoping to distract her, he gave the little boy a huge smile that prompted one in response. “Cute kid,” he said.

  Callie’s eyes widened, then she glanced at the baby’s face and nodded.

  Ethan sighed. He couldn’t talk to Callie if they spent the day admiring some baby.

  “May I?” When he reached out to take the little boy, Callie held on tight.

  “Aw, come on,” Ethan said, smiling at Isabel. “Would your boyfriend mind if I held the little tyke for a minute?”

  “I doubt it.” Isabel shot a worried glance at Callie. “It’s okay,” she said, lifting her brows. “Ethan can hold the baby.”

  Gray eyes turbulent, Callie handed the kid across.

  Ethan talked softly to the baby as he crossed the room with Callie on his heels. He handed the little boy to Isabel, then whipped around and grabbed Callie’s wrist. “Let’s go somewhere to talk.”

  She yanked her arm free, then turned around and walked out the front door.

  After Ethan had followed his furious, sputtering wife out to the porch, he realized that her thin cotton T-shirt would do little to protect her from the chill.

  She’d always been absentminded about dressing for the weather. He’d always enjoyed taking care of her. “Don’t you have a jacket?” he asked.

  “No.” She crossed her arms in front of her. “Let’s make this quick. I’m freezing.”

  He was tempted to offer her his shirt, even if that meant going bare-chested. Undressing in front of her might be a problem, though. If she looked at him in a certain way, he might wonder what she was thinking. Hell, he might hope she was thinking about sex. Seeing her in his shirt might not help, either. She’d worn his shirts after sex when they were together. Sometimes during sex.

  He had to keep his mind on his goal—which was to tell her about the divorce.

  He couldn’t do that yet.

  He’d thought he could greet Callie and her sisters as if they were no more than old friends, but reality had reminded him of some complicated feelings—protectiveness, desire, affection.

  Rather than callously dropping his news, he wanted to let her get used to seeing him again. Apparently, he could use a little adjustment time himself.

  He would tell her, though. Very soon.

  Right now, he wanted to find out why she’d insisted on coming here to Isabel’s house with him when she was so set on avoiding him. “What’s going on, Callie?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You don’t want me here at all, do you?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  She glared at him. “We shouldn’t be around each other at all. Not even to talk privately.”

  “We’re still married, Cal. Why not talk?”

  “We have a certificate. We’re not exactly married,” she said. “You walked out on me, remember?”

  Okay, that was true. But they were still married. Their strange situation had entered his thoughts at odd times over the past two years, causing near panic. He wasn’t the type to leave things undone.

  He didn’t want to have this conversation on Isabel’s front porch, but he could at least start them talking. “I walked out on a failing relationship.”

  “There you go.”

  Callie didn’t meet his eyes. Ethan stepped nearer and realized she was watching someone park a battered pickup behind the little white Mazda she was driving.

  A redheaded man got out and walked up the drive. At first, Ethan had the blinding thought that the slightly plump man was Callie’s boyfriend, and the cause of her irrational behavior.

  But then the guy said, “Hi, Callie. No one was home at Josie’s apartment. Did Isabel bring my kids here?”

  “They’re in the house,” Callie said.

  Aha! The redhead was Isabel’s boyfriend. Ethan wondered at his sense of relief. He still cared about Callie and always would, but he didn’t expect her to live the life of a hermit.

  He didn’t intend to do that. He had LeeAnn, who had made her readiness for romance quite apparent. His marriage had failed. He should move on, and be happy for Callie.

  “Wait there for one minute until I’m finished here, and I’ll go get the kids,” Callie hollered at the other man. Then she shot a glance at Ethan and added, “All of them.”

  Man, she’d sounded bossy. Isabel’s friend stopped immediately and stood perusing the pile of junk at the end of the drive.

  Callie returned her attention to Ethan, her eyes huge. “Okay, you win,” she said, speaking quickly. “I’ll meet you somewhere later and we can talk.”

  “I could come in and help.”

  “No. You have to go now.”

  For whatever reason, she was rushing him off. Ethan liked the idea of meeting her later, though. He could use the time to think about how to approach the subject of divorce. That shouldn’t be hard after a two-year separation, but it was. Apparently, on both sides.

  “Tonight at, say, ten o’clock, I’ll meet you at Mary’s Bar,” she said. “You know the place, out off Ohio Street?”

  How could he forget it? Before they were married, he and Callie had spent hours making out in the bar’s back parking lot. “All right. Mary’s at ten.”

  Callie paused and frowned as if she intended to say more, but then she just tugged on his sleeve. “Come on.”

  “What are we doing?”

  She started down the drive. “Walking to your car.”

  He laughed. Did she expect her boyfriend to show up? Maybe she didn’t want to explain Ethan’s presence to her new love interest. Come to think of it, maybe the guy didn’t know she’d been married.

  As much as the thought bothered him, Ethan knew he was probably right. A jealous boyfriend would explain her bizarre behavior. “All right, but you’d better show up,” he said as he opened his car door and sank inside. “I know where to find you if you don’t.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Ethan was much happier to hear those words than he should have been.

  Chapter Three

  Callie stepped inside the door of Mary’s and allowed her senses to adjust. The sharp smell of cigarette smoke made her want to pinch her nose, and the crowded darkness invited trouble. The bar was small and shabby, but it fulfilled a purpose. Local citizens kept the business going because they preferred to drink and mingle without having to drive the extra few miles to a more upscale place.

  Since she valued logic over social approval, Callie didn’t mind admitting that she preferred clean smells and daylight. She’d never frequented Mary’s or any other bar, but she’d wanted a good place to talk to Ethan tonight.

  The crowd added safety, yet unless something happened, folks would be uninterested in her and Ethan’s conversation. Besides, she’d wanted to meet Ethan late, so she could leave Luke at Josie’s apartment without burdening her overworked sisters with his care. He’d been asleep for an hour already, and he’d likely sleep through until morning.

  Ethan was here, somewhere. She’d seen his car in the lot. She scanned the space and located him sitting at a table just yards in front of her with his back to the door. Surrounded by four pretty women, he was entertaining them with an a
necdote that must be enthralling.

  The ladies were all pitched forward in their seats, eyes wide, heads nodding and lips pursed. Suddenly, all four women opened those pouty lips to gasp.

  Callie swallowed a lump of jealousy. Ethan had always liked people. All people, not just women. He was probably passing the time, expecting her to be late, as usual. In any case, his behavior was none of her business.

  Heavens, he looked good. The sight of his broad shoulders and muscled arms made her wish for things she shouldn’t. Ethan had made her feel sexy and soft, instead of just smart. No couple could have had a more romantic beginning. None. Just like the ladies at his table now, she’d brightened in his company.

  She’d be tempted to repeat every trial of their marriage, just to relive one of those early days.

  If that were possible, however, she’d be wishing Luke right out of her life.

  She couldn’t do that. Luke was her life.

  Her deep, crazy wishes hardly mattered, anyway. Ethan had made it clear that he was finished with her. He’d tired of her, just as her mother had predicted.

  An outbreak of wild female giggles nearly brought tears to Callie’s eyes. She knew her envy didn’t make sense. She wasn’t supposed to care. She was supposed to be over him, vanishing into her separate life while he vanished into his.

  Unfortunately, when it came to Ethan, Callie’s emotions often overtook her rational thoughts.

  She’d have to be very careful.

  She approached the table, stopping at Ethan’s side. “I’m here,” she said.

  Ethan said goodbye to the ladies, then grabbed his bottle of beer and stood. “I couldn’t find an empty table a few minutes ago, but we can hunt for one together.”

  They surveyed the area. Most of the crowd had gathered around the pool tables or the bar. All five tables in the larger room were occupied, but Ethan put a hand at Callie’s waist to guide her in that direction.

  A single guy sat alone at a table, ogling a petite blonde waiting to order at the bar. Ethan approached, offering the guy a nod in greeting. “Pretty girl,” he said. “Interested?”

  “Sure as taxes,” the man said.

  Ethan handed him a bill. “I saw her eyeing you earlier. She’s receptive. Go offer to buy her a drink.”

  “Wow. Thanks, man.”

  “We’ll be taking your table, though.”

  “No problem.”

  Callie smiled as they sat down. Ethan was in a friendly mood. Maybe they could talk without getting into an argument. She’d always felt so out of control during their clashes, and she feared that she’d say something she’d forever regret.

  Could she convince Ethan that he should simply vanish again, without discussing a divorce?

  “You want something to drink?” he asked. “I’m sure they have something nonalcoholic.”

  She eyed his bottle of beer. She’d never been much of a drinker, but at the moment she wanted something to steady her nerves. “I’d drink one of those.”

  “Really?”

  She nodded.

  He raised his eyebrows, then got up and went to the bar. Soon, he returned with two open beers—a fresh one for himself and one for her.

  She tipped the bottle to her mouth, wrinkling her nose at the first taste, then took a longer drink. The beer’s cold bitterness soothed her dry throat. After another drink, she set the bottle on the table and gazed at him. “It’s been nice to see you, Ethan. But after we talk tonight, you should go home and forget about me and my sisters.”

  He scowled, but he didn’t say anything.

  “Our relationship is over,” Callie added. “I can’t think of a single reason for us to spend time together.”

  “You’re serious.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “You must have a jealous boyfriend.”

  Callie stared at him. She hadn’t thought of lying about an involvement, but his presumption could be lucky. “Well, I have gone on with my life,” she said.

  “Then I guess this is a good time to talk,” he said. “I’ve also been dating. The woman’s name is LeeAnn Chambers, and she works as a secretary and moonlights as a fiddle player for the River’s Bend music group. You heard of them?”

  Oh, Lord. He had a girlfriend? Callie didn’t want to hear a name, and she most certainly didn’t want details. “No, I haven’t,” she said. She picked up her drink, realized her fingers were shaking and gripped the bottle more firmly. After another long swig, she glared at Ethan as he continued to talk about LeeAnn.

  Plunking the drink on the table, Callie looped her hair behind her ears and fixed a stare past his head. Maybe an act of disinterest would make him stop rattling on about this woman.

  He did stop.

  And he grabbed Callie’s left hand. “You’re still wearing your wedding ring?” he asked, his expression incredulous.

  Damn. She’d forgotten about the ring.

  She wore it mostly for convenience. Whenever she took Luke out in public, people approached her to comment on her baby’s dimpled grin or thick hair or bright eyes. She wanted those folks to picture him with a perfect home life, with parents devoted to each other and to him.

  The way she’d imagined her life with Ethan.

  But part of her reason, too, was that she hadn’t found the heart to remove it. The impossibility of a reconciliation didn’t keep her from clinging to that old dream, as if it were a long-comatose loved one on life support.

  She couldn’t tell Ethan any of this.

  “I don’t think about it,” she said, shrugging. “But I’ve always thought it was pretty.”

  “Your boyfriend doesn’t mind?”

  Callie held Ethan’s gaze for an endless time. When the floor didn’t swallow her up, chair, beer and all, she decided she’d have to keep talking to him.

  She couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

  Ethan tipped up his beer, finishing it, then said, “You don’t have a boyfriend at all, do you?”

  She shrugged.

  “You’re trying to evade men’s interest,” he said. “You’re using the ring as protection.”

  He wasn’t too far off target, and his words hurt because he knew her so well.

  He knew her so well, yet he’d left her.

  “It’s none of your business, is it?” she said. “It’s my ring. Go away and let me live my life.”

  Callie got up and wound her way through the crowd. As soon as she’d left the bar, she broke into a jog. She’d almost made it to the car when he caught her elbow.

  “Let go of me, Ethan.”

  He did, and she turned around. She hoped he’d attribute her flush to anger rather than humiliation. Women who were over their exes didn’t wear the man’s ring, did they? Her mother hadn’t worn her father’s. Here Callie was, the woman Ethan had left, wearing his wedding ring two years later. He’d suggested that she wore it to hide from other men, but he might also wonder if she was pining away for him. She could hardly explain that she wore it for their baby’s sake, damn it.

  “I just want to know why,” he said. His attention traveled from her eyes to her mouth to her neck.

  Her blush flowed downward, until she was hot everywhere.

  “Why, Callie?”

  Sweet heaven, she couldn’t think when he looked at her that way.

  She didn’t want to think.

  She had so much to lose if she got involved with him again. Why not kiss him one last time—really kiss him—while she had the chance?

  She grabbed his T-shirt and tugged him nearer.

  Before his chiseled lips touched hers, he parted them. He tasted sexy, like cold beer and hot, wild seduction. As his warm breath flowed into Callie’s mouth, the reminder of their lusty early days hit her, hard.

  Her knees wobbled. Her breasts ached. Her womb opened.

  She wanted nothing more than for Ethan to touch her, long and lovingly, everywhere she ached.

  That could never happen again.

  Still, sh
e didn’t move away from him. The unaccustomed alcohol in her system had probably made her reckless. It also didn’t help that they were standing in the same parking lot where she’d first learned how to love a boy in every way. His hands settled low on her hips, and she leaned into him. She’d always loved it when he pulled her to him and flaunted his body’s need for her.

  But this time, he propelled her backward.

  His expression showed confusion, but Callie could still feel his passion down to her bones. She could still see it in the flash of his eyes and in his quick, deep breaths.

  Man, she’d missed that look.

  In the end, when they were battling over everything from laundry duties to where they should live, she’d stopped seeing any signs he wanted her. She’d thought his desire was gone forever.

  It needed to be gone forever.

  And Callie needed to think her way through this situation. Of course, their reunion reminded her of the good things. Ethan had made Callie feel beautiful, once.

  He’d made her feel alive.

  As much as she’d missed him—as much as it tore her heart out to let this man go again, even for a moment—she couldn’t forget the reason for the separation.

  Leaving had been his choice. A thousand wishes hadn’t brought him home, and now Callie had a baby she couldn’t fathom losing.

  A baby whose identity she couldn’t risk revealing.

  Fisting her hands to keep them from trembling, Callie perched them against her hips and said, “What would your fiddle player think if she realized we still have that level of heat between us?”

  He scowled.

  “That’s why, Ethan. That’s why you have to go away and leave me alone.”

  “I wanted to talk to you about unfinished business tonight, Callie. About our marriage. I didn’t intend to start anything else.” He shook his head. “Maybe we need a chaperone.”

  She glanced around. They were alone out here, but someone might come or go at any time. “We aren’t going to discuss anything in Mary’s parking lot.”

  “I didn’t plan to have the discussion out here.”

  “You followed me out.”