Special Delivery

by Reagan Shaw

  Confusion brimmed over. I blinked up at him. “Huh? What do you mean, if you knew? You were the one who told me I had to do it on my own. You didn’t want to be involved.”

  Noah’s expression was a thunderstorm. He clenched his fists. “Erika,” he said. “Erika, who’s the father of this baby?”

  Another wave of confusion, followed by anger. “That’s really effing low, Noah. Really low. You know who the father is. You’ve known all along. You—”

  “No,” he said, “I haven’t. I was under the impression that Jason was the father of your child, and that you were back with him.”

  The words made absolutely no sense. They jarred against me, and I struggled for mental purchase. “What?”

  “Marc told me that you were back together with your ex and pregnant. I didn’t believe it until you came to see me here, and you told me—”

  “No,” I whispered. “Oh no, this is unbelievable! This is so, so, so bad.” It was my turn to clench my fists. “Marc—you—Marc.”

  “He told me that you were back with your ex, and I trusted it was the truth. When you came to see me that day, I thought you were there to taunt me or to, I don’t know what. None of it made sense. After, I tried to get hold of you, to find out what was really going on, but it was like you disappeared. Your friend wouldn’t let me near you. I couldn’t call you. Marc wouldn’t give me your number. You’d moved, I thought back to fuck—I mean, effing Chicago, and I have been—Erika, when you arrived here today, it was like seeing you again for the first time.” He fumbled closer. “It was like breathing again.”

  Fury at my brother raged through my veins. At his tampering. He hadn’t given up after all. He’d acted like he was fine with Noah being the father, with me keeping the baby, and he’d gone behind my back and ruined everything.

  I’d spent the last nine months waking up crying over a man who I’d believed not only rejected me but my daughter as well, and, in truth, he’d had no idea.

  “That’s why you were so angry that day,” I whispered. “You thought I’d come back to throw the pregnancy and my ex in your face?”

  “I wanted to believe that,” Noah replied. “Wanted to believe that you couldn’t feel for me, because it would make all the feelings I had for your bullshit. Because I was scared.” He mouthed a swear word but didn’t say it out loud. “Erika, is she—is the baby—?”

  “She’s yours,” I whispered. “She’s your daughter.”

  “Oh my god.” He grabbed a chair and placed it beside my bed, then sat down. He took my hand and drew it into his. “I delivered my daughter. I’m a dad.”

  “Yes,” I said, my heart tha-thumping against the inside of my throat. Gosh, I was one giant heart at this point, tense and beating over time. “What does this mean?”

  “It means we were lied to,” Noah said and lifted my hand. He brushed his lips across my knuckles, and tears welled up again. “It means we were robbed.” Noah searched my face, those dark, expressive eyes flicking back and forth. “I’m so sorry you had to do this on your own, Erika. So sorry. I—if I’d understood what was happening, I would have been there for you every step of the way, every step. Through the midnight cravings and the hormones. I thought you had someone. I thought you wanted nothing to do with me.”

  “That was partly my fault, Noah.” I chewed on my bottom lip. “I owe you an apology. After what happened at the hotel, I was still unsure, and I needed space. Needed time away because I was scared of how I felt for you, and then I found out I was pregnant and—”

  “And Marc started lying his ass off.”

  “Pretty much.” I couldn’t laugh at it. I was too angry with my brother. “Noah, there’s so much we need to talk about. About our baby, about us.”

  “I know,” he said. “And I’m ready to talk about it whenever you are. If you need rest first, I’ll understand.”

  “You’re so calm.” I smiled at him, inhaling him, allowing myself to appreciate him instead of just shutting myself down completely. It was dangerous territory, but for once, I wanted to believe that Noah was true, and honest, and that he wouldn’t play any games. Not when it came to something this important.

  “I’m forcing myself to be calm for you and for the baby. Inside, I’m ready to rip Marc a new...butthole.”

  “Well put,” I replied.

  Noah lifted my hand again and kissed it, then got up and circled around to the bassinet. Carefully, he twitched the blankets aside, just enough to make out our daughter’s little fist, clutched into a tiny ball. He stroked the back of it, his finger huge against her soft skin, and swallowed audibly.

  “She’s beautiful.”

  “She’s ours,” I whispered.

  There was still loads to figure out, but I could relax for now. I settled back, opened my mouth to tell Noah about how fast it had all happened and—

  The door swung open and Marc stepped into the room, his hair a mess and dark circles under his eyes. “Erika, I came as soon as—” He spotted Noah and the words died on his lips. “What are you doing here?”

  Noah

  This motherfucker.

  This asshole.

  This man I’d once called my friend stood there, in front of me, in front of the woman I loved, yes, loved, the child I’d only just found out was mine, and asked me what I was doing here?

  If I hadn’t been in a room with said woman I loved and my newly born child, I would’ve dragged him out of the damn hospital and beat the ever-loving shit out of him.

  “Erika?” Marc prompted.

  His sister stared at him, red-cheeked, her lips pulled back against her teeth. “I swear to god if I didn’t have a baby in this room I would cuss you out,” she hissed.

  Marc paled even further.

  “And I’d beat you,” I said, just as quietly. “You told me she was with her ex. You told me it was his baby.”

  “And you told me Noah would want nothing to do with the baby.” Erika struggled upward, but I placed a hand on her shoulder, soothing her so she lay back down again. “You asshat,” she whispered, then winced and looked over at the sleeping baby.

  “Quarter in the swear jar,” I joked, but turned back to Marc, and let the rage building inside me show on my face.

  He took a step back.

  “You had no right,” Erika continued. “You had no right to do that, Marc. This is my life, not yours, and I chose Noah. I should never have listened to you. I should never have listened to the nagging inner doubt, either, but you—you tricked me. You tricked him. You—”

  Once again, I soothed her, this time stroking my palm across her forehead, then leaning in and kissing her on the cheek. “It’s OK,” I said. “Let me handle this.”

  She quieted, and I turned to my old friend, the man I’d thought I could trust above anyone else. My brother in all but biology. “Erika’s correct. You didn’t have any right to try control her life and you still don’t. The fact that you think I’m such a bad person after all these years of friendship just shows that you’ve lost touch, that you never understood who I was.”

  “Noah, please,” Marc started, and it came out strangled and pathetic.

  “I have no interest in talking to you right now.”

  “Neither do I,” Erika announced.

  “Leave, Marc. You’re not welcome here,” I said.

  Maybe, in the distant future, we’d be able to work out our differences, but for now, we were done here. I had more important matters to worry about.

  “Erika, please,” Marc said, backing up another step. “Everything I did was in your best interests. I thought it would be for the best if—”

  “If I got rid of my baby?” Erika asked.

  “What?” I heated all over again. “What?”

  Marc’s hand was on the doorknob now. “I just wanted you to have a good life, a full one, and I didn’t think you’d have that with Noah or with a baby. I—”

  “Get out!” Erika snapped.

  The baby didn’t wake but did m
ake soft sucking sounds in her sleep.

  Marc stood at the door for a second longer, shaking his head. He opened and shut his mouth, then finally slipped out and shut the door behind himself.

  Erika exhaled, slowly. “Well, at least that’s over with. For now.”

  “For now,” I agreed.

  I turned toward her properly and took her in, every part of her—her hair still frazzled from the birth, and her soft skin glowing by the lights in the private room. She had the same soft lips, now stretching into a smile, and the glint in her eyes. She was positively radiant. If anything, more beautiful than she’d been back when she’d lived with me in the apartment.

  She’d matured over the course of the past nine months. She’d grown even more womanly. Even more irresistible.

  “I’m sorry you had to do this on your own,” I said, for the second time. The fact that I hardly apologized was out the window. Everything had changed for her. She broke my hard and fast rules completely.

  “I wasn’t on my own,” she said, still smiling, giving off that gentleness. “I had Luna to help me.”

  “She’s a good friend,” I commented. The type of friend I’d thought I’d had in Marc. “I’m happy you weren’t alone. Just wish it had been me.”

  “Um, you can make up for that now,” Erika said, and it was the first time I’d seen her shy. Truly shy.

  “I will,” I said. “You can bet your cute ass I will.”

  “I just gave birth, Noah. My ass is fat as heck.”

  I grinned at her, leaned in, and kissed her forehead, tasting salt and her unique flavor on my lips. “We’re saying ass an awful lot in front of the baby.”

  “A dollar in the swear jar?”

  “Eh, she can’t understand us yet, so we’ll let it slide this time,” I said, drawing ever closer to her. I brushed my nose against hers and she caught her breath, held it,

  “Noah,” she whispered.

  “I’m right here,” I replied. “And I’m never leaving again.” I pressed my lips to hers, kissed her carefully, allowing her to dictate the pace this time.

  She snaked her arms around my neck and pulled me closer, grabbed at the back of my head, at my shoulders, moaned quietly.

  I deepened the kiss, parted her lips, and tasted her as I’d dreamed of for months. In the darkest hours, in the quietest times, alone in my bed, I’d fantasized about this moment with her. I’d dreamed it was possible, lovesick even as I despised myself for it. For losing her. Blamed myself.

  And now, I had it.

  I had my woman in my arms. Every emotion I’d held at bay rose to the surface. I stroked her cheek with my thumb, ran fingers down her face, to her collarbone, itched to go lower, but kept myself in check.

  She gasped against my lips. “Noah, oh my god.”

  “I know,” I whispered. “I know. It’s too good. We gotta stop, Erika, or we’re going to both wind up with blue balls.”

  “Blue ovaries,” she said and giggled, pressing her forehead to mine. The laughter waned fast, and a frown cropped up. “Noah, I don’t want to play games. This is serious. There’s more than just our feelings at stake now. I can’t allow her to get hurt.”

  “I don’t play games,” I said and separated from her, slightly, dropped to one knee at the bedside, between the basinet and pink sheets.

  “Oh my god,’ she whispered, pressing one hand to her lips, tears spilling onto her cheeks again. “Oh my god, Noah, are you serious?”

  “I’ve loved you since we were teenagers,” I said, taking her left hand in mine. “Put another quarter in that swear jar for this one, but I was an asshole since we were teenagers too. I didn’t want to believe that it could be real, that I’d find someone I actually cared about.”

  She sniffled, smiling now.

  “But I have found that in you. You’re perfect for me, and all the screwups of the past don’t matter. And if they do, I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Proving to you that I am the man you need in your life. That I will be there no matter what. That I will protect you, and honor you, and be the father to your child, that I will love you until the day my body gives out. And even then. Even then.”

  “Noah.” She pressed her free hand to my cheek, stroked the rough stubble along my jaw.

  “You’re perfect for me, Erika. You’re my dream. Please, make that dream a reality and become my wife.”

  “I will,” she whispered, and I rose from my knee and drew her into an embrace, held her tight. She wept against my shoulders, wetting the crook of my neck, and I gulped down my emotion, plastered the side of her head with kisses.

  I cupped her face in both of my hands, stroked the tears from under her eyes, and kissed her again. “Now,” I said, “I don’t have a ring on me at the moment, but I’m kinda hoping you can forgive me for that.”

  “Forgive you!” Erika hiccupped. “Noah, there’s nothing to forgive. There is literally nothing to forgive. I hope you know that.”

  We kissed again and parted slowly. I perched on the edge of her bed, holding her hand, switching my gaze, my fucking alive eyes, alive for her, from Erika to our baby. “Have you decided what to call her yet?”

  “No,” she replied, and dragged a tissue from a box of Kleenex on the bedside tables. There were no flowers there yet. I’d have to remedy that. “I was stumped, until now.”

  “What are you thinking?” I asked.

  She squeezed my hand. “Hope. I’m thinking Hope.”

  “Hope,” I repeated, admiring our little girl, her tiny hands and her tiny button nose. She had downy brown hair, like mine, but I had a feeling that she’d have her mother’s eyes. “Hope. She’s perfect.”

  Erika

  Seven weeks later

  * * *

  I stood next to the crib, smiling down at our little Hope. She was fast asleep after her feeding and angelic. For now. Soon, she’d be awake again and in need of a change or a feed. Having a baby was amazing, of course, everything I’d dreamed of, but man, could a woman get some sleep?

  The nursery door creaked open behind me, and I turned toward it. The hall light was on, and light streamed in, slanting across the floor.

  Noah’s silhouette filled the doorframe, and my heart warmed instantly. I tiptoed toward him, and he drew me into a tight hug, pressing me against his white coat. “Hey gorgeous,” he whispered. “Is she sleeping?”

  “Yes,” I replied, just as quietly. “For now.”

  He chuckled at that, then walked me backward a couple steps. “Good. I’ve been itching to get some time alone with you. Sorry I had to leave today.”

  “It’s work,” I said, as we headed down the hall toward his bedroom. Our bedroom.

  We’d gotten the deposit back on my apartment and moved into his, transforming the guest room into a nursery and babyproofing the whole place. The suite wasn’t chic-bachelor anymore. It was all family and filled with our atmosphere. Our happiness.

  There was no place I’d rather have been.

  Noah placed his hand on the small of my back and guided me into the master bedroom. He let out a sigh as he stripped his lab coat off, then covered his mouth as he yawned. “What a day.”

  “What a month and a half. Almost two months,” I said. I still had some of the baby weight on, but a lot of it had dropped off, even with me eating like a horse. Breastfeeding had seriously taken it out of me.

  And in the past few weeks since the birth, Noah and I had had very little alone time. None at all, in fact, since I hadn’t gotten the go-ahead to have alone time until a week ago.

  I sat down on the edge of the bed and watched as he stripped off his shirt, then his jeans. My insides tightened up, and I licked my lips, the familiar swarm of attraction rising.

  “I missed you,” he said softly, as he stepped out of his socks.

  “I miss you still.” I walked over to him and slipped my hands around his waist.

  He looked down at me, brushed the backs of his fingers down my cheek. “Do we have ti
me?”

  “Let’s make time.”

  It was all the permission he needed. Noah’s lips descended on mine, and I gasped on impact. Desire strode through me, took me over, and my knees turned into jelly. I collapsed against him.

  “Easy,” he said, catching me, holding me upright, and peppering my cheeks, my forehead, my nose, and even my eyes with soft kisses. “Easy, baby.”

  “When you touch me it feels like I’m going to pass out, I swear.”

  “It’s been too long,” he groaned and walked me back. He sat me down on the bed, bent in front of me and stripped off my pants. He tore off my shirt but left my bra on—the breastfeeding kind—which I was privately grateful for. “Lie back, quick.”

  I did as I was told, and he parted my legs, gently, trailed kisses up the insides of my thighs and toward my pussy. I throbbed for him, ached.

  “You’re swollen,” he said, his voice hitching. “You’re so ready for me.”

  “I know,” I hissed. “I need you, Noah. Don’t make me come first. Just get inside me, now, fill me up again.”

  He ignored the request and lowered his lips to my clit instead. He sucked it into his mouth, noisily, and groaned again, like he was a starving man, and I was a slice of warm apple pie. He rolled his tongue over that tight bundle of nerves, sending shockwaves through me.

  I shook on the spot, grabbed a fistful of his hair and tugged. “Oh god.”

  He chuckled against my pussy, and pressed two fingers inside, slowly. I clenched around him and he growled. “Fuck, Erika, you’re so fucking wet. You’re so wet.”

  “Uh-huh.” I couldn’t speak properly with him inside me, licking me, owning me. He worked my pussy at a pace that suited both of us, like he remembered from all those months ago exactly which buttons to push.

  I was putty in his hands, melting into him, gripping at his hair, then the sheets, twisting them, mouth open, noises escaping.

  “Quietly,” he said, then feasted on my clit again. “Come for me, but quietly. Now, baby. I can’t wait a second longer to be inside you. Give it to me. Give me what I want.”