An Unexpected Christmas Baby

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  He glanced at her and then back at the highway.

  Diamond had woken shortly after their kiss. He’d fed and changed her in the SUV while Tamara had wandered into a couple of nearby shops. After that, they decided to head out rather than wait for the big tree lighting.

  “It’s in the back of my shed.” Still in its plastic wrapping.

  “You never talk much about your parents.”

  Understandably, given the situation.

  He didn’t know the situation.

  Guilt assailed her. She’d kissed him.

  And she’d liked it.

  Far more than she’d ever liked Steve’s kisses.

  What did that mean?

  “Mom’s a doctor.” The darkness in the SUV made her feel safe. Secure.

  Or maybe it was being with him.

  “A cardiologist.” Fitting. She was dying of heartache.

  “And your dad?”

  “He’s into a lot of different things.” He had investments in just about every field out there. “Computers, mostly,” she said. She couldn’t tell him the truth. But she wouldn’t out-and-out lie any more than she had to.

  She’d already told him she was an only child in one of their earlier phone conversations. They’d both been “onlys.” She knew, from that same converation, that he didn’t want Diamond to be.

  “Have you told them about me?” he asked.

  Oh, God, don’t strike me down in my sleep. “Yes.”

  “And?”

  “They’re worried about my...well-being.” She could be completely honest with that one.

  “Surely they don’t think you’re better off alone.”

  “No, of course not. It’s just been so hard...on them, too.”

  “Are they afraid of the possibility that you might get talked into trying again?”

  Trying again.

  Her chest tightened. The cords in her neck were taut. Her throat. What if she wanted that someday? Not simply to try again but...to try with Flint?

  She shook her head.

  She couldn’t stretch the truth that far.

  “I don’t know,” she finally said when she could.

  “Do you think they want you to? Or hope you might?”

  Looking out the car window, she thought about her mom and dad. “They’ve never said,” she told him, but figured if they had, the answer would be no.

  Just the thought of living through the months of waiting and worrying that would be involved—

  Enough was enough.

  And the three of them...they’d had enough.

  * * *

  The week following their trip to Julian was inarguably the best week of Flint’s life so far. The only shadow at all was Stella’s restraining order hearing and, in the end, it had been postponed. She’d asked for more time to prepare.

  Not surprisingly, the judge had granted her request. Flint had had no say in the matter and only heard about the changed date when his attorney called to tell him he had to be in court the week before Christmas.

  On the surface, not a lot had changed with Tamara. He still hadn’t been to her home. She hadn’t said why, but he could understand that it would be near impossible for her to have an infant in her most private space.

  He would’ve been open to considering a lunchtime visit, but when she didn’t suggest it, neither did he.

  She’d wrapped up her work at Owens and while he’d liked knowing she was in the building, they hadn’t crossed paths often enough for there to be a real difference in their time together. She’d taken the job in town, only a few miles from Owens, tentatively scheduling it for after the New Year. And on her last day in the office, he’d grabbed her out of view of all security cameras, telling her that knowing where the cameras were was a perk of spending so much time in the building—and then he kissed her. Soundly. So he could have that memory with him every single day he went to work.

  She’d kissed him back fiercely. Telling him she wanted the memory to last.

  They’d met for lunch four times that week. Twice they’d ended up in his Lincoln, making out. While it had been years since he’d even thought about kissing in a car, Flint was enjoying the slow pace of their relationship.

  Tamara needed time.

  He wanted her to have it.

  If they went to her place, or his, they’d end up having sex and, as acutely as he needed that with her, he wanted it to be fantastic for both of them.

  It wasn’t going to be for her until she had some things worked out.

  She’d been over for dinner twice and on Saturday afternoon to watch a movie. ET not Wall Street. One day at lunch they’d been talking about their favorite movies growing up and had decided to watch them all with each other. Her top three were Mary Poppins, Annie and ET. Other than Wall Street, his were The Goose That Laid the Golden Egg, Rocky and Heaven Can Wait.

  Things were vastly different between them when they were around Diamond. The baby wasn’t sleeping quite as much anymore. She’d happily spend time in her swing. Liked to be held for a while after she ate and before she went to sleep. She was also happy on a blanket on the floor for short periods, maybe ten minutes or so.

  Tamara had mastered the art of bottle preparation. She’d taken over the sterilizing process, too, whenever she was there. She sat in a chair instead of on the couch with him when he was holding Diamond. And avoided looking in her direction at all other times.

  Still, Flint took the week as a huge win.

  She was trying.

  And there was no doubt now that they equally craved their time together.

  She came back on Sunday, bringing sushi for them to share while they watched a second movie. And then a third. They’d just finished Heaven Can Wait, a story about a young football player who’d left this world too soon, and she asked Flint about his mom. Not the bad stuff, she’d said, the good. She wanted to know all the things he’d loved about Alana Gold.

  The things he wanted to pass on to Diamond.

  If he was a guy who cried, he could have wept.

  Over sushi, he asked her what she loved most about her parents. She’d liked that her mom never seemed like a doctor at home. She was just Mom.

  Someone who worried too much. And was her greatest champion in the world.

  “Dr. Frost,” he said, anxious for the time to come when he could meet them. He’d been hoping by Christmas, but Tamara hadn’t said anything.

  “Her name’s not Frost.” The change in her tone was odd. Off. She looked like she had the day she’d picked up Diamond in his office.

  Only different. Maybe worse.

  “Your parents aren’t married?”

  “Yes. They are.”

  Sitting at the dining room table, with Diamond in her baby swing behind her, she dropped her California roll on the paper plate she’d brought.

  He wasn’t getting the problem. His baby girl hadn’t made a sound. And Tamara couldn’t see her to know she’d just smiled at him.

  She’d been doing that a lot lately, this girl of his, smiling when she saw him.

  “So your mother kept her maiden name?” he asked, waiting to pick up another roll. He drank from the glass of wine she’d poured him.

  She shook her head. “Frost’s my married name.” You’d have thought she’d admitted to some horrible crime, the way she’d said that. As if she expected him to be upset that she’d kept her ex’s name.

  A lot of women did that. For various reasons.

  It was just a name.

  “Okay.”

  Watching him for a second, she seemed to relax. She picked up her roll. And then another. Back to normal.

  “So what is your maiden name?” he asked. He was planning to meet her parents at some point. He should know what to call them. Maybe even have their number in case of an
emergency. They knew about him, so there was no reason he shouldn’t have that information. “And do I call them Dr. and Mr. or—”

  She’d gone completely white. Looked like she might be sick.

  “Tamara? What’s wrong, hon?” He stood, thinking he’d grab a cool cloth.

  When she stood, too, he backed away from the table, giving her room to make it to the bathroom. But she wasn’t going anywhere. She just stood there, facing him, looking...horrible.

  “My parents are Dr. and Mr. Howard Owens.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  She hadn’t meant to tell him. Oh, God, she hadn’t meant to tell him. They’d been sitting there, eating sushi and having a great day, and she’d been so aware of the baby, needing to help care for her, and the awful lie had been there between them. He’d called her mother Dr. Frost. Dr. Steve’s-Last-Name.

  The lie had been too horrendous to keep to herself.

  “Say something,” she said.

  He was standing there staring at her, frowning at her, completely confused.

  “I... Did you just tell me that Howard Owens, my boss, is your father?”

  She’d thought she’d felt every acute stab of pain there was to feel. She’d been wrong. The grip on her heart when she looked at Flint was different than anything she’d ever felt before.

  “Yes.” And if, judging by the expression on his face, he was this put out about that part of it, he’d never be able to accept the rest.

  She hadn’t expected him to.

  “You were working for your father.”

  “Yes.”

  He nodded. “Bill knew that.”

  She could almost hear his mind buzzing as he started putting the pieces together. But even Bill didn’t know the whole truth.

  “And your father told both of you not to say anything to the rest of the staff.”

  “Something like that.” Exactly like that, except that he, in particular, had been singled out not to know.

  “So when you interrupted us that first day... You’re the real reason I kept my job. You talked to your father—”

  “No!” She shook her head. “I mean, I did say something, but he’d already decided to keep you on. He’d met with you by then. You’d already signed the noncompete agreement.”

  “Which you thought was a good idea.”

  “I did.”

  He nodded, his brow clearing a bit. She wished she could feel relief but she knew better. Her lips were trembling. Her hands and knees, too. Tamara slid back onto her chair.

  “I can see why your father wanted you to do your work without anyone knowing you were his daughter. People would be more honest with a stranger who had no ties to their boss.”

  She wanted to nod. He was right—to a point.

  She could sense that he was taking hope. Saw him working everything out in his mind.

  It was an endeavor doomed to fail before he’d even begun.

  The sound of the swing, back and forth, back and forth, click, click, played a rhythm in her mind. Soothing her. She concentrated on that. Focused on it.

  “Did you really tell them you’re seeing me?”

  “Of course.”

  There were no longer any creases on his brow.

  “And they were okay with it?”

  “They didn’t tell me not to.” That point was key. He had to know they hadn’t rejected him—despite believing he might have stolen from them. She’d even go so far as to say, “They’re supportive of whatever choice I make where you’re concerned.”

  “But they’re worried.”

  She’d already told him that much. She nodded.

  “Your dad knows about my past. And about Diamond Rose.”

  Of course he knew. Flint had informed Howard about the baby himself.

  He frowned again. “When I asked you to give me time to tell him...did you?”

  “Yes.”

  His brow cleared. If she didn’t know better, she’d start to take hope herself. As it was, she wanted to throw herself in his arms, beg his forgiveness and have wild, passionate sex.

  She wanted to focus on him. On them. All the issues separating them be damned.

  At the same time she wanted to run, but didn’t trust her knees to carry her away from him.

  “So...now that the cat’s out of the bag,” he began, “how about we pack up the girl here and stop over to see them? I know Howard generally spends his Sunday evenings during football season in front of the seventy-two-inch screen he had installed in your parents’ family room.”

  “You’ve seen it?” She gulped. Buying time she didn’t have.

  “Of course not. He doesn’t expose his employees to his family—and vice versa. You’d be the first to know that.”

  She nodded.

  “So...give them a call. Let’s get this over with.” His tone was light. His expression wasn’t, but it was filled with the warm light of...caring she’d become addicted to seeing from him over the past weeks.

  She shook her head.

  Flint sat on the edge of the seat closest to her then leaned forward, taking both of her hands in his. “I know there’s a lot we still have to face, sweetie. Just as I understand why they’re so concerned for you. Let me assure them that I know what’s going on. That I have no intention of asking you to do anything if you aren’t ready. Even if you’re never ready. Let me set their minds at ease.”

  She couldn’t do that. But how to tell this wonderful man—the man she seemed to have fallen in love with—that nothing was as it seemed.

  She loved him? Nothing like going for the bottom line when everything was falling apart.

  Mallory had been right. She’d known how Tamara felt before Tamara knew it herself.

  She wasn’t surprised by that.

  “You owe it to me,” he said next, his tone still light, grinning as she looked up at him. “I have to see him at work tomorrow, knowing that he knows but that he doesn’t know I do.” He rolled his eyes. “Whew. This is complicated.”

  He made her smile.

  Which made her cry.

  She loved him.

  And she was about to hurt him so badly.

  She loved him.

  And she was about to lose him.

  * * *

  Getting over the initial shock, Flint was filled with undeniable energy. Ready to forge into the future. Taking Tamara in his arms, understanding her emotions as she finally told him a secret he’d had no idea she’d been keeping, wanting her to know that he understood and held no hard feelings. He rubbed her back. Buried his face in that glorious auburn hair. Inhaled her soft, flowery scent.

  If ever he could have scripted a life for himself, it would be this one.

  He’d known Howard Owens had a daughter, but he hadn’t heard much about her. She’d gone to college. Gotten married. He’d never heard anything else.

  He certainly hadn’t known that Howard had lost four grandchildren before they were born. The man he’d thought unemotional to the point of impassive had gone out and bought his unborn grandson a fishing rod. Hard to accept that one—and yet he’d always admired Howard, had wanted to be like him. Other than the older man’s penchant for playing it safer than Flint’s gut told him to do.

  And now...here he was, in an incredible relationship with the man’s daughter. Howard knew, and hadn’t told his daughter to run in the opposite direction.

  “Flint...”

  Sniffling, Tamara pulled away from him. Wiped her eyes. She wasn’t smiling.

  He stilled. “What’s wrong?”

  Tears welled in her eyes again as she looked up at him.

  He didn’t start to sink back to reality, though, until she took another step back. Bracing himself, he waited.

  No point in reacting until you knew what you were reacting to.
>
  “There’s more. And I want you to know, right up front, that I don’t care anymore.”

  Now he was confused. “Care about what?”

  Was she telling him she had no feelings for him? He found that hard to believe. She had to be running scared because of Diamond.

  A problem, to be sure. But they could work on it.

  There had to be a way...

  “Whether or not there’s any truth to my father’s suspicions. I should care. But I don’t. I told him that on Thanksgiving Day.” She stopped. Took another couple of steps backward, toward the great room where she’d left her purse.

  He was watching her leave him.

  He didn’t get it.

  “I told him I wasn’t sure how much longer I could go without telling you...”

  What, that she was Howard’s daughter?

  And what were Howard’s suspicions? Flint had already admitted he’d been in the process of opening his own business. That had all been before Diamond. Before Tamara.

  “What did he say to that?” he asked because he couldn’t come up with anything else.

  “He understood that I had to do what I had to do.”

  “But he didn’t want me to know?”

  She shook her head.

  Okay, so all was not as he would’ve scripted it.

  “He wanted proof, first.”

  Proof? Flint needed her back in her chair, across from him, eating sushi. He had no idea how to make that happen.

  “He’s not going to press charges,” she said. “He told me so. Especially not if it’s you. You need to know that...”

  Press charges? What the hell?

  No.

  Grabbing the back of the chair with both hands, he stood calmly. His life was what it was. Always had been. Maybe it always would be.

  And he’d deal with it.

  “Why don’t you leave out all the preliminaries and tell me what your father thinks I’ve done.”

  “Someone’s been siphoning money from the company.”

  “And he thinks it’s me.”

  She nodded.

  Her tears didn’t faze him. The stricken look on her face didn’t, either. He noted both, but was somewhere else entirely now. He was in his own world, where there was just him. Knowing that he had what it took to deal with whatever was in front of him.