Don't Break My Heart (Return to Redemption, Book 6)

by Laurie Kellogg

Justin jumped out of the car, sprinted to the front porch, and pounded on the door while repeatedly ringing the doorbell.

  Several interminable moments passed before Matt opened the door wearing a T-shirt and a pair of pajama pants, his thinning silver hair standing on end.

  “I need help, Doc. The baby’s comin’ fast, and I have no idea what to do.”

  “First, calm down. I may not have delivered a baby in a few years, but I still remember how. Abby!” Matt shouted over his shoulder. “Get me half a dozen clean towels. We have company.” He pointed to Trisha’s car. “Carry your wife into my kitchen. I’ll get my medical bag.”

  As soon as he had Trisha in the house, Matt said, “Lay her on the towel I spread on the kitchen table.” He chuckled as he scrubbed his hands at the sink. “Ten years ago, I would’ve delivered Trisha on the floor, but if I get on my knees this morning, you might need a crane to pick me up.”

  “Remember, I own a construction company, Doc. I’ve got you covered.”

  Matt dried his hands, snapped on a pair of latex gloves, and pushed Trisha’s knees apart. “Let’s see where we’re at here. Justin go stand behind her and prop up her shoulders.”

  Abby dragged a floor lamp in from the family room and plugged it in. “I figured you could use more light.”

  “Good thinking. Thank you, Sunshine.”

  Haley laughed beside Trisha. “Sunshine? More light?”

  “Oh, yeah. The baby’s crowning.”

  “Oh, dear God,”—Trisha bit her lip—“I wanna push so bad.”

  Matt smiled and patted her leg. “So what’re you waiting for, Mama? Push already.”

  “Oh, thank you.” Her face contorted as she immediately bore down.

  The next two minutes passed in a blur as Matt delivered the baby’s head and then allowed Trisha to rest for a moment. With the next contraction, she pushed again to deliver his shoulders. A second later, their son was out and squalling loud enough to drown out Trisha’s relieved laughter.

  “He’s beautiful and healthy,” Matt told them as he suctioned the baby’s nose and mouth. He wrapped Justin’s son in a soft towel and laid him in his arms. “You can tell them at the hospital your boy had an Apgar score of nine.”

  Justin stared down at his child and a lump lodged in his throat. He leaned over and kissed Trisha, rasping, “You got your wish, sweetheart. He looks exactly like my newborn picture.”

  “So in fifteen years, all the girls are gonna be after him.”

  “If not sooner.” Abby chuckled next to Matt. “They’re starting young these days.”

  Justin placed his tiny son in the cradle of his mama’s arms.

  Haley crept closer and peeked at the baby. “That was freaking awesome! Wait until Dani hears about this.”

  Matt clamped the umbilical cord in two places about an inch apart and held out a pair of scissors to Justin. “Would you like the honor of cutting the cord, Dad?”

  Justin smiled at Trisha. “I think his big sister should do that.”

  Haley glanced between him and the Fosters and told Matt and Abby. “I’m really just his godsister.”

  “No.” Trisha shook her head. “You’re his big sister in every way that counts.”

  “That’s right,” Justin agreed. “Genes don’t mean anything when it comes to being a family.” He glanced at the doc and his wife. “Just ask the Fosters. They have a son who isn’t any relation to them. He even has a different last name.”

  “That’s right,” Abby told her. “You met Royce after the play. We love him just as much as we do Tom.” She picked up the receiver from the phone on the wall. “I’ll call for an ambulance.”

  Tears glistened in Haley’s eyes as she turned to Trisha and him. “If I’m the baby’s sister, would it be all right if I call you Mom and Dad? Otherwise, little Brain might get confused.”

  Justin sucked in a breath, struggling to maintain his composure. He never thought Haley would ever be able or willing to consider him her dad. Apparently, she’d lost any feeling of disloyalty to her parents, and felt free to love him and Trisha and consider them her family.

  “You mean Marc might get confused,” Trisha corrected.

  Haley’s eyes widened. “You’re naming him after my dad?”

  For months, he and Trisha had made Haley laugh when they pretended to argue about names like Icabod, Sigmund, and Horatio. There had never been any question about what they would name their son.

  Justin put his arm around the daughter of his heart. “Yup, Pinky. His name is Marcus Nicolàs Riverá, after my two best friends.” He took the scissors from Matt and smiled at her. “What do you say we cut this thing together?”

  Haley placed her hand over his as they snipped her brother’s cord between the two clamps.

  Trisha reached out and squeezed her arm. “I hope you realize, as Marc’s big sister, you’re gonna have to do some free babysitting on the weekends.”

  “Any time.” Haley’s smile immediately drooped as she obviously realized what she’d committed herself to. “But not if Jamal and I have a date, all right?”

  “Right.” Justin smiled at his wife and the Fosters. “She’s already trying to weasel out of her sibling responsibility. I’d say that makes us a bona fide family.”

  “Would you like to hold your brother?” Trisha held out the baby.

  Haley didn’t hesitate. She carefully supported Marc’s head as Trisha transferred him to her arms.

  “Hey, I just thought of somethin’ cool, Brain.” Haley smiled and cooed to her brother, “You and I were both born on a holiday. I only get chocolate hearts on my birthday, but every year, there’ll be fireworks for yours.”

  They all laughed.

  While Matt delivered the afterbirth, Justin leaned over and kissed Trisha. “Just between you and me, I suspect our daughter is gonna spoil her brother rotten.”

  “That’s good.” She cupped his cheek in her palm. “It’ll leave you lots of time to continue spoiling me.”

  He’d once busted his brother’s cojones for constantly indulging his wife’s every whim. Nick had told Justin he would understand after he was married.

  The advice his brother had given at the altar on Justin’s wedding day had been that he should move heaven and earth to give his wife whatever she wanted outside the bedroom. That way she’d be only too happy to give him his heart’s desire in it.

  “That’s right, mi amor.” He kissed her again. “As long as it’s in my power to give it to you, you can have anything you want.”

  “How about another baby? Maybe a little Lindsey?”

  “Already?” He rolled his eyes at Matt and laughed. “I think her labor was much too easy.”

  “I’m just good at having babies.” She grinned. “And, remember, I’m not getting any younger, and I do only have one ovary, so I could run out of eggs soon.” She pulled his head closer, and whispered in his ear, “Besides, I know how much you love to practice.”

  “You know the old saying, cariño,” he murmured as he kissed her. “Practice makes perfect.”

  Thank you for reading Don’t Break My Heart

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  Laurie’s complete book list

  Read more of Laurie’s romances that are Steamy, Heartwarming Fun:

  The Me
mory of You (prequel to the Return to Redemption Series)

  A Little Bit of Déjà Vu (Book One of the Return to Redemption series)

  Baby, I’m Back (Book Two of the Return to Redemption series)

  The Parent Pact (Book Three of the Return to Redemption series)

  No Exchanges, No Returns (Book Four of the Return to Redemption series)

  A Heart Decision (Book Five of the Return to Redemption series)

  Don’t Break My Heart (Book Six of the Return to Redemption series)

  Or try her L.L. Kellogg romances that are A Little Naughty and a lot of Fun

  Hypnotic Seduction (Book One of the Seduction Series)

  Captive Seduction (Book Two of the Seduction Series)

  Sin City Seduction (Book Three of the Seduction Series)

  About the Author

  Laurie Kellogg is a two-time winner and seven-time nominee for the Romance Writers of America® Golden Heart® award, the winner of Pacific Northwest Writers Association® Zola award, and a Romantic Times® American Title I finalist. She began writing to avoid housework and has since resorted to naming the dust-bunnies multiplying as fast as real rabbits while she plots love stories that are Steamy, Heartwarming, Romantic Fun

  Laurie also writes red-hot romantic comedies under L.L. Kellogg which she’s branded as A Little Naughty and a lot of Fun! If you would like to know more about Laurie and her books visit http://www.LaurieKellogg.com

  Connect with Laurie at:

  e-mail: Contact@LaurieKellogg.com

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  Excerpt of Baby, I’m Back

  (Originally published as The Great Bedroom War)

  The Return to Redemption Series—Book Two

  Romance Writers of America® Golden Heart® Finalist

  by

  Laurie Kellogg

  She’s trying to forget the pleasure in her ex’s arms

  He’s doing his damnedest to remind her

  Fledgling entrepreneur Samantha Riverà is in charge of her own life for the first time and determined to keep it that way. She’s attempting to banish her call-all-the-shots ex-husband from her dreams, but it’s kind of tough forgetting the Zorro look-alike who’s willing to do anything for her, except give her the only two things she wants—another baby and his love. When their 14-year-old daughter Dani—who’s maintaining a shaky remission from leukemia—rebels, Sam foolishly seeks advice from her Don Juan ex, who, incidentally, could charm the knickers off a nun.

  When corporate vice president Nicolàs Riverà returns to Redemption, PA, to help control his defiant daughter, he discovers he not only has serious competition for Sam’s affection, but Dani has a crush on a boy who is the last kid Nick wants her interested in. The boy is a horn-dog rebel who reminds Nick way to much of his teen-aged self.

  Sam never understood that to a Latino man familial responsibility is número uno—regardless of whether he was born and raised in America. She also has no concept of how terrified this reformed bad-boy is of losing her to another high-risk pregnancy. The death of their premature son devastated Nick, and his refusal to sire another child incited The Great Bedroom War that ultimately destroyed his marriage. Now, he’ll stop at nothing to get his family back—even if it means blackmailing his way back into his ex-wife’s home to become a greater presence in his sick child’s life—and, with any luck, Samantha’s bed and heart.

  CHAPTER 1

  Every red-blooded American male has one of two things on his mind at the end of a romantic evening. Samantha Riverá prayed her date was wondering if the Phillies had won.

  She slanted an uncertain smile at Adam Chase as he walked her to the wraparound porch that hugged one corner of her home in Redemption, Pennsylvania. “A penny for your thoughts?”

  “That’s all?” His chuckle warped into a soft snort. “Considering the rate of inflation, what I’m thinking is worth at least a buck. Although it would probably get my face slapped.”

  Her stomach lurched. Okay, scratch baseball....unless he was considering sliding into a metaphorical home plate.

  “Ahhh.” Sam gave a slow, perceptive nod worthy of a carnival psychic. “S-E-X.”

  “Hey, I admit it’s been a while, but I still remember how to spell it,” he said, laughing. “I was actually wondering if you have any idea how long it’s been since—”

  “Is this the third Tuesday in September?” she teased, trying not to recall the last incredible night she’d spent in her ex-husband’s arms.

  “I meant for me.” Adam turned serious, ignoring her attempt to be funny. “This is our sixth date, Sam. Do you realize how hard it is—”

  Oh, jeez. She smothered a smile over his choice of words. Evidently she was the one with sex on the brain. Except, despite how much her body had hungered to be touched since her divorce, emotionally she wasn’t ready.

  Not even for second base.

  “—I mean, what I’m trying to ask, not very successfully,” he began again. “Are you interested in me as more than a friend, or not?”

  “Of course.” A woman would have to be lying on a mortician’s slab not to be attracted to a golden hunk like Adam. His sun-streaked hair, bronzed face, and broad shoulders made him look more like a California surfer than a prominent doctor.

  “Then quit trying to laugh your way out of asking me in for coffee.”

  She froze in her tracks, sucking in a deep breath and inhaling the cloying scent of the petunias she’d planted along the walkway. “I-I’m sorry, Adam. I can’t yet. I have a teenage daughter to set an example for, and I need to feel a lot more than physical attraction to sleep—”

  “You’re not over Nick, are you?”

  She swallowed her reflexive denial. The shame and resentment that Adam’s astute diagnosis ignited became a fire-breathing dragon puffing from her neckline and singeing her cheeks. Instead of answering, she gazed up at the Queen Anne Victorian farmhouse her ex-husband had surprised her with seven years ago for her twenty-fifth birthday. Admitting the truth was bittersweet—like swallowing a piece of jagged, hard candy whole.

  She wanted to be over Nicolás Riverá. Except in the thirteen years she’d been married to the second-generation Mexican-American, he’d become ingrained in her life—and psyche.

  “It’s been over a year since he left you and Dani,” Adam pointed out, no doubt interpreting her silence as ambivalence.

  “That’s not entirely accurate.” She could imagine the way Nick would bristle at Adam’s words. All Nick would hear was an implication that he was an irresponsible lout who’d abandoned the mother of his child the way his biological father had left Nick’s mom. “I deserted Nick when I refused to move to Los Angeles with him. After growing up in Philly, I thought he’d had enough of living in the city, too.”

  “I can understand you not wanting to leave the slower pace of a small town. But divorcing him—”

  “My reasons weren’t just about leaving the life I’ve made here.” Although, it truly would’ve broken her heart to say good-bye to her friends, not to mention the covered bridges and country charm surrounding Redemption. Samantha shook her head and heaved a regret-filled sigh. “That was the tip of the iceberg. Our marriage was in trouble long before that.” Ever since she’d lost their son.

  “So what’s the problem?” Adam wound a blond tendril of her shoulder-length hair around his index finger. “Forget him and move on.”

  “Right. It’s kind of tough to forget the father of my child when he calls every few days and is still paying most of my bills, even though, legally, he doesn’t have to.”

  And how could she not remember a guy who’d washed and refuel
ed her car every week and always saved her the last peanut butter cup?

  Despite Nick’s self-imposed commitment, he’d never fallen in love with her the way she’d prayed. Instead, his perfunctory devotion became a sharp wedge between them, chipping away at their relationship like one of Michelangelo’s chisels.

  “I don’t get you, Sam. If your ex is so great, why the hell did you divorce him?”

  “Because he’s a total control freak who has to call all the shots. For example—did he discuss his transfer to L.A. with me? No. He simply came home one afternoon and told me we were moving.” She waved toward the house. “Not only did he buy our home—which I admit I love—without consulting me, he also contacted a realtor to sell it before I could even object to moving three thousand miles away from you, our sick daughter’s doctor.”

  “It’s nice to know you think I’m that indispensable.” Adam chuckled, making light of her concern the same way Nick had.

  She fired a withering look at Adam. “I realize some of the most prominent specialists are in Los Angeles. But Dani and I trust you.”

  “Sorry for laughing. You’re right. He was a high-handed jerk.”

  “I was also sick of feeling like an obligation. Nick only married me because I was pregnant.”

  All her life she’d been a burden to someone—first to her great aunt for accepting custody of Sam after her parents were killed and then to Nick. But unlike her begrudging relative, there wasn’t much her ex-husband hadn’t insisted on doing for her. Except give her the only things she really wanted—his love, his trust....and another baby.

  “What you have to understand is Nick has an overdeveloped sense of responsibility,” she explained. “He acted as if, in fulfilling his duty, he earned the right to make every doggone decision in our marriage.” She glanced at her watch, surprised to see how late it had gotten. “Look, it’s almost eleven-thirty.” She dug her keys out of her purse. “I have to be up at six for work.”