The Workaholic Down the Hall

by Katharine Sadler

  “What could be going on?” Noah asked, panic high. “Could something serious be wrong with her?”

  The doctor put a hand on his shoulder, comforting him, the look of concern on her face suggesting she thought he was about to lose it.

  “Noah, it's fine,” I said. “The baby is fine.”

  Noah focused his gaze on me and his expression softened, the worry and the tension seeping from his body and his face. I guess I was pretty damn reassuring. “Okay,” he said. “Okay. Let's do this.”

  I smiled and shook my head. I hadn't expected him to care this much and it was touching. He was going to be a great father. The doctor used a wand and the baby's racing heartbeat filled the room a moment later. Noah's body tensed and his eyes widened. For a moment, he looked utterly terrified and then his expression softened, his lips tilting up, his arms falling limply into his lap, an expression like awe and immense fondness transforming him. Even though I knew it was a mistake, I fell a little bit harder for him.

  “Can we hear it one more time?” Noah asked when the doctor lifted the wand away. She smiled and obliged and Noah listened like his whole world was centered around that one sound.

  The doctor sent us to another waiting room until an ultrasound room opened up. “Should we be worried,” Noah said, “about this growth thing?” He reached for my hand and laced his fingers through mine.

  I squeezed his hand and reminded myself he wasn't touching me out of physical or romantic desire, but because he was feeling the afterglow of hearing our daughter's heartbeat and he was worried about her. “One thing I've learned through this process is to try not to worry unless the doctor says there's something to worry about. You'll drive yourself crazy otherwise.”

  “I like to be proactive,” he said. “And figure out solutions before there's a definite problem.”

  “That's the thing. There's not really a solution. This is out of our control. If there's something wrong with the baby, the doctor will give us a list of options and we'll decide at that point what to do.”

  He stared at me like he didn't recognize me. “You've been doing this on your own for eight months? How are you still sane? I feel crazy with worry after just a few days.”

  “I've had Mimi. I haven't been alone. And that worry, it means you care, that you love this baby already and don't want to lose her. I think there's going to be a lot more worry in the future, so we might as well figure out how to deal with it.”

  After an hour wait, we were taken back for the ultrasound and Noah got to see our little girl for the first time. Okay, so he mostly saw a lot of amorphous shapes and blurs on a screen, but we did see a little hand and the profile of her face.

  “Is she okay?” Noah asked the ultrasound tech when she was finished.

  “The doctor will have to talk to you about that.”

  He went ghostly pale and swayed on his feet. “Does that mean there's something so horribly wrong that you can't bear to speak about it?”

  I laughed. It was mean of me to laugh at his worry, but I couldn't help it. He was just so adorable. “Have you always been this dramatic?” I asked.

  “This is serious.” He glared at me.

  Even the ultrasound tech laughed. “I can't talk about the scan because I'm not your doctor. I don't talk about anyone's scan with them.” She put a hand on Noah's shoulder. “But I think it's safe to say your wife is right, you're worrying unnecessarily.”

  Noah nodded and a touch of color returned to his face. I wrapped an arm around his waist to make sure he didn't faint and led him out of the room. If he was this much of a mess now, he'd never survive the delivery. I mentally kicked myself and reminded myself he wouldn't be around for the delivery.

  In the waiting room, Noah tapped his feet and fidgeted. He picked up parenting magazines, only to flip through them and put them down and fidget again. I hadn't slept well the night before and I yawned. I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open. He looked over at me, wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled until I was leaning against him. I listened to his heartbeat and promised myself I could enjoy this platonic offer of comfort and not get attached, but I knew I was lying to myself. I never lied to myself. I'd just enjoy whatever he gave me for as long as he gave it and, when he withdrew it, I'd pick up the pieces and I'd move on. I'd be okay.

  I leaned into him and closed my eyes.

  ***

  “I think we should get married,” Noah said. I sank into the couch in the living room of the hunting cabin. I was exhausted. After our appointment with the OB, Nora had still been nowhere to be seen, so we'd had to walk three blocks to the hospital where the birthing class was being held. And we'd had to walk fast, because the appointment with the OB had been considerably longer than expected and we'd been running late. I was glad to have Noah there, but I wished Nora had been there, too. Nora was more likely to be at the delivery than Noah and I wanted to be sure she and I were on the same page. Nora and George had picked us up after the birthing class and returned us to the cabin.

  Noah had apparently lost his mind at some point.

  “We don't need to get married to be good co-parents.”

  He sat next to me and took both my hands in his. “We don't need to, but I want to. You're my best friend, Aubrey, and I want to be in our baby's life. I want us to be a family for the baby.”

  “This may shock you,” I said, pulling my hands from his. “But I want to marry a man who loves me. It'll be kind of hard to meet that man if I'm married to you.” I couldn't help giving him a little push. “Unless you want to have an open marriage?”

  His jaw tightened and he backed away like I was Rogue and my touch would drain the life force from his body. “I don't want an open marriage. You don't think I could satisfy you?”

  The determination in his expression sent my thoughts straight to the gutter. I remembered his hands on me, the warmth of his body over mine, the electricity that had sparked between us and driven me out of my mind with want. I pinched my eyes closed and banished the memories. When I opened them, I focused on Noah, my friend, nothing more. “I want more than a comfortable marriage to a friend who deigns to fuck me so I don't have to look for sexual release outside the marriage.”

  He flinched. “I don't think you should use that kind of language in front of the baby.”

  He was adorably serious. I loved that he cared so much for our baby already, but I hated that he couldn't see how much he was hurting me. “You're probably right.” I patted his hands. “The point is that our daughter doesn't need her parents to be married to know she's loved more than anything else in the world. We'll make it work, for her.”

  He frowned. “And what happens when you find that man who loves you and the three of you become a happy family?”

  Pain sliced through my chest, but I forced a smile. He'd never understand how much I wished he was that man who would love me. “I'll never keep your daughter from you, Noah. No matter what happens, I won't do that.”

  He nodded, but his eyes had gone dark, almost sad. “Are you hungry? I could heat up some soup, make some grilled cheese sandwiches.”

  “That sounds perfect.” I put my feet on the coffee table and leaned my head on the couch back to rest my eyes for a few moments.

  “We should open a college fund for her,” Noah said, what felt like seconds later.

  I opened my eyes to see him carrying a tray with a bowl and a plate. “I know, but we can't set it up until she's born and she has a social security number.”

  He sat next to me and put the tray in my lap. “Are you planning to stay home with her?”

  I could afford to stay home with her, but I hated to give up the security of a full-time job with benefits. And, judging by how difficult I was finding enforced relaxation, I wasn't sure I wanted to stay home with her. I loved to work, I didn't want to give that up. But I wasn't ready to tell Noah any of that, so I stuck to the basics. “I don't think I can. I need health insurance.”

  “Will your current
health insurance cover you until you get on a new plan?”

  “Alex promised I'd be covered until the end of the year.”

  “So, you need to find a new job, one that offers health insurance. Why don't you come back to work for me?”

  His offer had me sitting up straighter and shaking my head. “You can't just fire your current assistant to make a place for me.”

  He shrugged. “A lot can happen between now and the end of the year. You just worry about having this baby and taking care of her. I'll take care of you.”

  “I don't need you to take care of me,” I said, my tone harsh. I couldn't work for him again. What if he got angry about the way I was raising our child and threatened my job? I couldn't be dependent on him for income, insurance, and to be a good father. “I can take care of myself.”

  His jaw tensed. “I'm not saying you can't, I just want to help.”

  I put the tray of food on the coffee table, no longer hungry, and faced him. “Just be a good father to our daughter and let me worry about the rest. How about that?”

  “I'm trying to be a good father,” he said. “That includes taking care of my baby's mother.”

  “I'm not your responsibility. Your only concern should be showing up for visitation.”

  He flinched like I'd struck him. “That's what you see me? I'll just show up to see her every couple of weeks? Maybe take her on the weekends when she gets older?”

  I rubbed my temples, my head starting to ache. “What more do you want? We aren't going to live together. We're going to need to work out some sort of arrangement.”

  “I don't want an arrangement. I want to see my daughter every day. I want to be woken up by her in the middle of the night and complain that I never get any sleep anymore. I want to be there for her first step and her first tooth and her first smile.”

  I sighed. He really wasn't asking too much, I just had no idea how to give him what he wanted without losing my sense of security and my heart. “I want you to have those things, Noah. I do. We'll have to figure it out as we go along.”

  He shook his head, his shoulders stiff. “I want to know I'm going to be in her life. I want to be there for you, too. You've done so much alone already. I don't want you to have to raise her alone.”

  I slumped. I didn't want that either, but I couldn't…”I'm exhausted, Noah. Can we talk about this tomorrow?”

  “Of course,” he said, his brow pinching with worry. “Are you okay?”

  “I'm fine, just tired.”

  I started to stand, to head to my room, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me back down to the couch. “If you sleep now, you'll be up all night again tonight.”

  “Did I wake you last night?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “No, I couldn't sleep either. Just sit with me and I'll try to find a movie for us to watch.”

  I sat back down and he found some dumb comedy about circus clowns who rob banks. I was asleep before the intro credits finished rolling.

  I woke to him rubbing my back. “Sweetie,” he said. “You should get to bed.”

  “'Kay,” I mumbled, but I was too comfortable, more comfortable than I'd been in months, and I didn't want to move. I was laying with my head on his chest, his right arm wrapped tight around me. Before I fell back into a deep sleep, I felt Noah lift me in his arms and then I was moving, floating and bouncing a bit as he walked.

  He laid me down in the cold bed and I woke a bit more as the position he'd laid me in put a pressure on my back that felt awful.

  “Okay, sweetheart?” he asked.

  I rolled onto my side and tried to settle, but I couldn't find that sweet spot where there was no pressure on my belly or my back. “I'll be okay,” I said. “I just have to get comfortable.”

  The mattress sank as he got into bed and pulled me back into his arms. I snuggled against his chest and sighed. That was it. With my head raised and one leg over his legs, I was finally comfortable.

  “Sleep well, sweetheart.” He placed a kiss to the top of my head. “Sleep well.”

  I slept better than I had in months.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Aubrey

  I was in bed alone when I woke, the late morning sunlight streaming in through the windows. I couldn't stop the smile that whispered up from my belly and exploded onto my face. I just felt so good. I'd slept better than I'd slept in months and I'd loved the feel of Noah's arms around me, his body warm next to me. I knew I'd loved it too much, knew I couldn't get used to it, but that knowledge did nothing to dim my smile.

  I shifted and twisted my cumbersome body until I managed to get myself out of bed. I showered and dressed and headed to the kitchen, my stomach rumbling with hunger.

  I'd expected to find Noah in the kitchen, but he wasn't there. A flash of movement through the large windows grabbed my attention and I saw him, jogging toward the house in workout shorts and a long-sleeved t-shirt. My happy mood slipped just a bit when my heart flipped at the sight of him. This wasn't just lust. What the hell was happening to me? How had one night in his arms, one night of sleeping, made me exponentially crazier about him than I'd been before? I hadn't thought it was possible for me to be more head over heels than I already was. I shook it off. It was probably just hormones. Hormones and possible insanity.

  Before I'd figured it out, he was in the kitchen, breathing hard and kicking off his tennis shoes. He smiled and my chest tightened. “How're you feeling?” he asked. “You were sleeping so hard you didn't even move when I got out of bed.”

  “I feel amazing. Thank you for sleeping with me.”

  His grin widened. He crossed the room and wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me tight against his hard, sweaty body. “It wasn't exactly a hardship.”

  I couldn't breathe and it had nothing to do with how hard he was hugging me or the faint whiff of BO wafting off his sweaty body. Other than that slight scent, he smelled insanely good for a man who hadn't showered and had been exercising. No, I couldn't breathe because his hug felt too good, too natural, like we were a couple. I could so easily slip into that fantasy.

  I pushed out of his arms. “You're all sweaty.” I feigned disgust. “And I just showered.” I hurried over to the fridge and flung the door open. I pretended to look over the breakfast options, but I was really just trying to cool off and get my head on straight. Friends. We were just friends.

  “Hungry?” Noah asked. “I can make us breakfast.”

  “How about I make breakfast while you shower?” I didn't know how to make anything more complicated than cereal, but anything was better than being in that room with him a moment longer.

  “Are you sure that won't be too much for you? You should rest.”

  “I have more energy than I've had in weeks.” Did I sound way too excited about that? He really needed to get out of the kitchen. “I need something to do.”

  He nodded and left. I grabbed every box of cereal in the place and arranged them artfully on the counter. I thought of him lathering soap over his smooth skin, his muscles rippling. I put two bowls in front of the cereal boxes. Noah was probably rinsing off the soap, hands in his hair, his triceps flexing as he stretched and rinsed. I put two spoons next to the two bowls and managed not to drop the jug of milk I placed on the counter next, even though I was feeling a bit overwhelmed and hot. Noah was probably stepping out of the shower and maybe, since it had been a while since he'd had a release, he was wrapping his hand around his—

  “How's it coming?” Noah asked.

  I screeched like a woman who'd been caught peeking at her roommate's porn collection and slapped a hand over my mouth.

  Noah patted my back. “Are you okay? Do you need to sit?”

  “I'm fine.” My cheeks were so hot I thought they might be on fire. “You just surprised me.”

  He smirked like he knew I was lying and looked at my cereal arrangement. “That looks so much better than the ziti I made.”

  “Wouldn't be hard to beat that meal,” I said. “I do
n't know what kind of cereal you like, so I just set them all out.”

  He sat at the counter and smiled. “I like all kinds of cereal. This is perfect.”

  I sat next to him and we crunched on our cereal in silence. I was surprised he'd picked a sugary kids' cereal. When I'd had breakfast at his place in the past, for totally platonic reasons, he'd usually just had coffee.

  “What do you want to do today?” he asked when we'd both finished eating and he'd cleaned up breakfast.

  I stared at him for a long moment, my mind snapping back to my imaginings of his shower and of what I'd like to be doing. I mentally slapped myself. “Are there any options other than Monopoly, television, or books?”

  His gaze grew misty and his lips ticked up in a wicked smile before he caught himself, swallowed hard and shook his head. “I thought you might have a baby book I could read. I'd like to have some idea of what to expect.”

  My heart warmed and swelled. I loved that he wanted to read about the baby, wanted to prepare for the baby. “Of course. I've got about ten.”

  His smile was fond. “Of course you do.”

  We spent the day reading books, him baby and parenting books, me a magical realism book Nora had left, and talking about the baby and what we hoped and wanted for her. That night, after a dinner of spaghetti, we watched a movie on the couch and I fell asleep on him again. I woke up the next morning in my bed, wrapped in his arms. My heart ached with fear at how attached I was getting to having him in my bed, but I was so much more comfortable sleeping on him that I couldn't bear to kick him out.

  He woke up moments after I did. “Hi,” he said, his voice scratchy, his eyes sleepy. His focus dropped to my mouth when I said good morning, and he licked his own lips. My body pressed closer against him like it had a mind of its own and I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from leaning over and kissing him.

  He growled and swore. I started to pull away from him, but he yanked me back, pulling me tight against him and allowing me to feel that a very special part of him was very happy to see me. “Noah—”