by Nicola Marsh
‘It’s the best solution for everyone.’
She raised an eyebrow, wondering if some of her irrational hormones had taken a flying leap and landed on him.
‘Thanks for the offer, but we can’t live together. I’ve never lived with anyone, and I value my independence, as I’m sure you do. It would never work.’
His jaw tightened, a stubborn set to it. ‘We’d make it work. For the sake of the baby.’
Suddenly, the pieces of the puzzle slid into place like the rumblings of tectonic plates moving into place.
‘You don’t think I’m capable of caring for this baby myself?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he said, his quick look-away glance speaking volumes. ‘I only want what’s best for you.’
‘Cut the crap, Nate. We both know you want what’s best for the baby. I’m just the incubator,’ she said, anger turning her words into sharp barbs intended to wound him like he’d wounded her.
‘That’s not fair. I care about you.’
He reached for her hand, gripping it tightly when she tried to tug away, using his other hand to tilt her chin up.
‘Listen to me. I know this pregnancy is the last thing either one of us expected, but it happened and we’re responsible. You wouldn’t have told me about the baby if you didn’t want me involved, and like it or not I’m here to stay. I’m sorry it took me a while to get my act together, but I’m one hundred percent committed now. This baby means more to me than you could possibly know, and I intend on doing everything in my power to make sure the both of you are cared for. Understood?’
The vehemence behind his impassioned words startled her. It sounded like he meant business—and a huge part of her was grateful that her baby would have a father who would love and cherish and protect it, something she’d never had after her parents had died.
‘You’re pretty hell-bent on this, aren’t you?’
‘Damn right,’ he said, his fingers warm against the tender skin under her jaw as his thumb brushed her bottom lip.
Sighing, she finally relaxed, taking hold of his hand—she couldn’t take much more of that lip stroking—and squeezing both of them in hers.
‘Okay, here’s how it will be. I’m not moving in here, no matter what you say, but you can have full involvement in the pregnancy. Ultrasounds, obstetrician visits, ante-natal classes, the works. How’s that for a compromise?’
‘You drive a hard bargain,’ he said, his smile warming her right down to her toes. ‘Sounds good. For now.’
She ignored his addendum, too tired to ram her point home. She’d never move in with Nate no matter how hard he pushed or how many logical arguments he laid out.
She wasn’t a fool, and raising a child in a home where two parents didn’t love each other would do much more damage than visitation rights and planned holidays.
With a weary smile, she said, ‘Okay, then. Let’s see some of this caring attitude starting with you taking me home. I’m beat.’
And if she didn’t establish some much-needed distance between them in the next few minutes she’d be curling up on his sofa—or, worse, checking out the upstairs master-bedroom.
Being with Nate felt too comfortable, too cosy, too right, and hot on the heels of her startling realisation that she actually might love him it threatened to undermine her very existence.
No matter how much he cared for her, no matter how close the baby brought them, she could never compete with Julia. He’d virtually said she’d been the love of his life, and she had no intention of coming in a poor second.
She’d had enough of that feeling growing up, always playing second fiddle to a foster mum’s biological kids, always the new kid on the block as she moved from school to school, always the outsider.
Never again; she’d make sure of it, even if it meant breaking her heart in the process.
‘Come on, I’ll take you home,’ he said, gently pulling her to her feet, clasping her hands like he’d never let go.
More of that wishful thinking.
‘Thanks, Nate. For everything,’ she said, knowing how lucky she was to have a dependable guy as the father of her baby, a part of her wishing there could be more between them.
‘You’re welcome.’
He dropped a chaste kiss on her cheek, the type of kiss indicative of their relationship.
Or was it?
No matter how platonic they tried to keep their relationship, there’d been the shared moments in the office working on Travelogue, and as for the Logies tonight…
Nate had been at his charming best, and she’d had a hard time separating her rational side, which told her he was just being nice to her at a work do, and her emotional side, which replayed every touch, every intimate smile. And that spectacular dance where their bodies had been so very close…
She should be ecstatic they’d ironed out some major issues where the baby was concerned.
Instead, as she followed him out the door of his beautiful home and to his car, she couldn’t help but wish for it all.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
‘WOULD you like to know the sex of the baby?’
Nate’s coal eyes clashed with Kris’s, a wonder-filled smile spreading across his face.
‘What do you think?’
Kris didn’t know what to think.
She hadn’t known what to think for a while now. Since their chat after the Logies, Nate had showered her with attention, doing considerate things like dropping by with groceries, accompanying her on walks around Albert Park Lake, even bringing her the chocolate milk-shakes she craved at all hours.
A girl could get used to this sort of treatment, and with every passing week she fell deeper for the man with a knack for lavishing some much-needed affection on her.
‘I’m not sure. Would you like a surprise at the end?’
A shadow crossed his face, but before she could interpret it he said, ‘Honestly? I think we’ve both had all the surprises we can take. I’d like to know.’
‘Me too.’
She clasped his hand and turned to the doctor. ‘Okay, let us have it.’
The doctor beamed as he wiped the ultrasound gel from her belly. ‘Congratulations. You have a healthy baby girl growing in there.’
‘A girl,’ Nate said, his voice barely a whisper as he clutched her hand.
‘Wow.’
Kris let the tears flow as she sat up and thanked the doctor, who grinned at them like a generous benefactor as he handed her a photo of the baby and left the room.
‘Bet she’s as gorgeous as her mother,’ Nate said, tracing the baby’s outline with a fingertip before leaning over and placing a soft, lingering kiss on her lips.
Kris blinked, but the tears flowed heavier as he gathered her in his arms, strong and protective as the rest of him, as she tried to figure out what that tender kiss had been about.
‘I take it this means you’re happy?’
He drew away from her and brushed a strand of hair out of her face, his hand warm against her cheek for a brief moment.
‘Very.’
She sniffled, gratefully grabbing a few tissues from the box he held out to her, wondering if she’d ever get over the urge to bawl at the slightest provocation. ‘We’re having a girl…’
‘Pretty amazing, huh?’
Amazing? Nothing came close to the overwhelming intensity of emotions flooding her body: pride, awe and blinding love filled her till she could barely see.
Knowing the sex of the baby made it all the more real, and she could now chat to her baby girl, labelling her a ‘she’ rather than an unknown entity.
‘This is all so unbelievable,’ she said, gripping his hand like she’d never let go, gazing down at her protruding belly with a growing sense of wonderment. ‘I have a little girl in there.’
Nate reached out and rubbed his hand over her belly, like a hopeful man with an old lamp wishing for a genie.
‘My girls,’ he said, the sheen of unshed tears in his eyes as he looked at h
er, pride overpowering the momentary sadness she could’ve sworn she’d glimpsed earlier.
‘Well, at least one of us is,’ she said, pushing up to a sitting position and patting her tummy. ‘Is it too early to start talking about names?’
He smiled and helped her off the bed. ‘No. How about we do it over dinner?’
Kris hesitated. So far, all of the time they’d spent together had been centred on the baby, and she preferred it that way. No use fuelling her useless fantasies of Nate seeing her as anything other than the mother of his child. Having a cosy dinner for two wouldn’t help her fertile imagination, especially an imagination which took his caring words ‘my girls’ and turned it into something more meaningful.
‘I’ll cook.’
He saw that as an enticement, whereas the thought of spending time holed up in his perfect house waiting for the perfect family intimidated her more than the thought of eating with him.
Darn it, she’d known falling for him would complicate matters, but she hadn’t expected to feel this out of her depth all the time—lending weight to words which were meaningless, imagining more than friendship behind every touch or casual peck on the cheek, wishing he’d feel more for her.
‘Sounds good,’ she said, forcing a smile, when her less-than-enthusiastic tone obviously hadn’t convinced him of her enthusiasm for his plan if the tiny frown between his brows was any indication. ‘As long as you don’t feed me Brussel sprouts and broccoli. I’m taking a vitamin supplement, and if I have one more green leafy vegetable this week I’m going to barf.’
‘I thought the morning sickness had stopped ages ago?’
The teasing glint in his eyes soon had her chuckling along with him as she padded over to a screen, clutching the back of the hospital gown which threatened to give him an eyeful with every step, and slipped behind it to get dressed.
‘Would you like me to bring anything?’
‘Just my favourite girls.’
His voice drifted over the top of the screen, and her fingers fumbled with the last button of her blouse as she wondered if he had any idea the impact of his casual words had on her.
She couldn’t see his expression, therefore couldn’t ascertain whether he was serious or joking, especially as his tone gave little away.
Silently chastising herself for reading too much into his comments, she stepped out from behind the screen after sliding the last button home.
‘Okay, then, let’s get back to work. Alan should have the first tape of Travelogue ready for viewing.’
She headed for the door, brisk and businesslike, the only mode which kept her focus diverted from Nate and the mixed signals he was sending her.
‘Speaking of which, are you going to announce your pregnancy today?’
She nodded, glancing down at her flowing geometric-patterned top in turquoise, black and camel. ‘I’m surprised nobody’s guessed yet with the loose clothes I’ve been wearing.’
‘You look sensational as always,’ he said, his admiring glance sweeping from her top to her fitted black trousers with the elasticated waist and back again. ‘With a gorgeous body like yours, no one can tell you’re pregnant unless they’ve seen your belly.’
She fidgeted under his intense stare, flattered by his words, wishing her overactive imagination wouldn’t conjure up the glint of desire in his eyes.
‘Well, until now you’re the only one who has had that privilege, so let’s spread the word before the rumour-mills start up.’
He laid a hand on her arm as she opened the door. ‘You know I’m proud to be the father?’
‘Uh-huh. But we’ve both agreed to keep the paternity a secret at work. It’s nobody’s business but ours, and I don’t want it affecting our professional lives.’
‘You sure?’
‘Positive.’
It was tough enough climbing the corporate ladder, without having to fend off snide barbs from co-workers insinuating she was getting ahead because she was sleeping with the boss.
Ha!
If they only knew it had been a one-off, a distant, cherished memory she replayed at will, especially in the long, lonely hours of the morning when her bladder woke her for frequent trips to the loo and she couldn’t get back to sleep for thinking about Nate.
‘There is one thing you can bring to dinner tonight.’
‘What’s that?’
‘A hat.’
She stared at his deadpan face, the corners of his mouth twitching with barely concealed amusement.
‘A hat?’
‘That’s right. Now, let’s get back to work before the boss fires your cute butt.’
Sending him a mock-angry glare, secretly thrilled about his butt comment, she followed him out of the clinic, wondering if he would ever stop surprising her.
‘One hat, as requested.’
Kris placed a misshapen red beanie on the dinner table, smack bang between the silver candlestick-holders and the crystal glasses. ‘Now, are you going to tell me what on earth it’s for?’
Nate smiled and pulled out her chair, gesturing for her to sit.
‘Well, you strike me as being a woman of firm opinions, so I thought the only way for us both to decide on a name would be to draw one out of a hat.’
She laughed, the loud, genuine sound of a woman who was happy, something he’d heard more of lately, and he hoped she’d still feel that way after he dropped his little bombshell on her tonight.
‘Are you saying I’m stubborn?’
‘Interpret it as you will,’ he said, grinning as he filled her glass with her preferred sparkling mineral-water and lemon, increasingly grateful they could joke around like this.
They’d grown closer, had settled into a comfortable friendship, the type of friendship he valued, the type of friendship he could easily see developing into something more given half a chance.
She sipped her mineral water and replaced it on the table, her cheeky glance alerting him to another of her trademark quick remarks. ‘There won’t be a problem as long as you agree with me.’
He chuckled. ‘Tell me you’re not into the way-out Hollywood-style names. I’m a conservative kind of guy, and I don’t think I can cope with my daughter being called Apple or any other types of fruit.’
‘You sound like an old man.’
‘I am,’ he said, feeling every one of his thirty-six years.
Gut-wrenching grief did that to a man, robbing him of optimism, joy and hope. But the remarkable woman sitting in front of him had changed all that.
Courtesy of the little miracle she was carrying, he suddenly had hope for the future. And it felt great!
‘You’re right. I can see quite a few grey hairs amongst all that black,’ she said, pointing to the area around his temple. ‘Hope you haven’t passed on the premature-ageing gene to our daughter.’
‘You’ll keep,’ he said, grinning as he pointed a finger at her before heading for the kitchen. ‘Just for that, I’ll serve your favourite sprouts and broccoli first.’
He half expected her to follow him into the kitchen, but as he returned with plates piled high with steaming stir-fry, and saw her sitting on the edge of her seat and fiddling with cutlery, he had to admit it would take more than a few teasing words and a home-cooked meal to get her to relax.
She’d seemed on edge the last time she’d been here, but he’d put that down to discovering he’d been married and the strangeness of the situation. However, it looked like she hadn’t loosened up at all, and if he didn’t get her to unwind he had no chance of convincing her to see the wisdom of his plan.
Setting a plate down in front of her, he took a seat opposite.
‘This smells fantastic,’ she said, inhaling the fragrant aroma of sautéed garlic, ginger and lemon grass, the three staples he used in any stir-fry.
It was too long since he’d cooked, preferring to eat at the office or grab a quick bite on his way home.
He’d missed this, missed seeing the appreciative expression on someone�
��s face as they took the first bite, the low ‘Mmm’ resonating from them as they forked more into their mouths.
Jules had loved his cooking, though with her long hours at the Playhouse he’d often ended up eating alone over the years.
However, seeing Kris’s obvious enjoyment as she slurped up noodles, smacked her lips and shovelled the food into her mouth with surprising speed, more than made up for any reticence on Julia’s part in the past.
A painful niggle of guilt wormed its way into his heart. He shouldn’t compare the two women.
They were very different, and he’d already come to terms with the fact he needed to move on with his life.
Over the last weeks he’d wondered if Kris’s unexpected pregnancy wasn’t the catalyst he needed, forcing him to compartmentalise his memories and set about creating a new future.
However, to do that he’d have to tell her the whole truth about Julia’s death, and now that her pregnancy was advanced he couldn’t do it.
He didn’t want to scare her, and the stress of hearing the truth now couldn’t be good for her or the baby. He’d have to bide his time and hope she’d understand once he told her everything.
And he would, there was no doubting that.
He’d been torn up inside for too long, guilt-ridden over possibly letting another woman into his life to usurp Julia’s position. However, after long nights of soul-searching, he knew Julia wouldn’t have wanted him to put his life on hold, to wallow in grief and self-pity. She’d always lived life to the full, throwing herself into their relationship with as much passion as she’d done for her roles on stage.
‘Life is meant to be gobbled like a scrumptious chocolate-cake, not nibbled around the edges,’ she’d used to say, and he could almost sense her now, silently egging him on to set aside the past and focus on the future.
‘You haven’t touched yours,’ Kris said, pointing to his plate while she dabbed at her mouth, her apologetic glance flicking between her plate and him. ‘Meanwhile, I’ve just entered the Guinness Book of Records for scoffing a meal in two seconds flat.’