“Are you really okay with this?” came her whispered question a few moments later.
He pulled back, looked her in the eye and hoped his voice didn’t quiver as he said, “I’m more than okay.”
She let out a half laugh. “You’re full of surprises, Quinn McKinnel.”
He leaned down to kiss her. As their kiss deepened, Quinn’s body hardened in desire, but just as things began to heat up, Bailey pulled away. He tried not to show his frustration as he questioned her with his eyes.
A coy smile twisted her lips as she pressed her hand to his chest. But unlike last night, her touch wasn’t a warning. She licked her lips, and man, if it wasn’t the most seductive thing he’d ever seen. His appetite for her raged.
“I’m glad you’re happy about this,” she whispered, “but I don’t think we should rush too fast into a relationship. There’s more than just our hearts at risk here now. Can we just take things slowly and see where they lead?’
Slow? The word wasn’t in his vocabulary—he doubted if it was in any of the McKinnels’—but, as much as his hormones hated him for it, he agreed. “Whatever you want.” He wanted Bailey to be comfortable, as any stress on her might transfer to their baby.
“And I think we should also keep the pregnancy between us, for now,” she added. “At least until I’ve had the first scan and know everything is okay.”
Quinn agreed that this made sense, especially due to their complicated family situation. “When is the first scan?”
“In two weeks. Do you want to come?”
He raised his eyebrows at her. “What part of ‘in this together’ didn’t you understand? Of course I’m coming!”
Chapter Six
“Bailey?” The hotel receptionist buzzed her desk.
She swallowed the water she’d just sipped. “Yes?”
“I’ve got a Quinn McKinnel here to see you. Shall I send him in?”
She frowned and looked at her cell to check the time. Was she late to their first ultrasound? Unable to think about anything else all day, it seemed unlikely, but she’d discovered pregnancy brain was a thing, so nothing was impossible. “Sure. Send him through.”
She stood to wait for him. Thankfully her boss was out showing a newly engaged couple what the hotel could offer for their upcoming nuptials, so when Quinn strode into the room and kissed her on the lips, there were no witnesses.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, trying to recover from the assault to her senses that was his hot, delicious mouth. “I thought we agreed to meet there.”
“I wanted to drive you.”
She placed a hand on her belly—there was already a bump, so she’d had to take to wearing baggier clothes than she normally did—and shook her head. “I’m not riding on the back of your bike.” As much as the idea of being pressed tightly up against Quinn, her arms wrapped around his torso, appealed, motorbikes were dangerous and she wouldn’t risk her baby.
“I wouldn’t let you,” he whispered. “Not in your condition. Now, are you ready to go?”
Assuming he must have borrowed his mom’s car or something, Bailey nodded.
As she turned to pluck her purse and water bottle from her desk, Quinn grabbed her coat. He held it out to her and she slid her arms into the sleeves, then he spun her round and did up her buttons, one by one, like she was a little girl. But standing this close to Quinn, his fingers brushing against her body in his efforts, didn’t make her feel like a little girl. When he was done, he smiled down at her and something low in her belly quivered. It was too soon for it to be the baby.
They walked out of her office and out of the hotel, careful to keep a distance between them. Then Quinn led her over to a brand-new navy blue SUV parked in the hotel lot. He aimed his key fob and the lights flashed as it unlocked. She paused as he opened the front passenger door.
“What are you waiting for?” he asked, looking back at her.
“Whose car is that?”
A grin spread across his face. “I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you mean. It’s mine. You like it?”
“What happened to the bike?”
He shrugged. “I decided I needed a more family-friendly vehicle. I can’t put a car seat on the back of a motorbike, now, can I?”
And just like that, she burst into tears. Quinn McKinnel on his motorbike had always been a welcome sight, but the image of him holding their baby as he gently eased it into its car seat undid her.
“Hey.” He stepped toward her and she forgot about the possibility of being seen as he pulled her close. “Is it the color? Whatever you don’t like, we can change it.”
She sniffed. And then laughed. “It’s perfect. It’s just...”
“You didn’t think I was responsible enough to put baby before bike.”
“I was going to say my tears were just pregnancy hormones.” But he’d nailed it, really. Selling his beloved motorbike was a massive step for him, a true sign of the commitment he said he had for her and their baby. In the two weeks since she’d told him, everything he’d done had reassured her that telling him had been the right decision. He was like a new man.
As he drove through the streets of Bend from the hotel to the clinic, she sipped more water.
“You thirsty?”
“No! I have to drink for the ultrasound and I really, really need to pee, so let’s not talk about it.”
Quinn laughed, which made Bailey smile despite the discomfort of her full bladder.
“It’s not funny.”
“Sorry.” He didn’t sound it and so she punched him in the arm.
“We should talk about something else,” he said. “What about baby names? Any favorites?”
Bailey sighed. “I want it to be perfect, but how do you choose a name for a baby until you’ve actually seen what it looks like?” It was so surreal to be having this discussion, let alone with Quinn.
“I guess we just write a short list, and then we can make the final decision when the baby’s born. I’ve downloaded a baby name app on my phone. I’ll show you when we’re waiting, but so far my favorite is McKinley. It works for a boy or a girl.”
“McKinley McKinnel?” She snorted and almost wet her pants. “You can’t be serious.”
He turned his head briefly and hit her with his mischievous grin, the one he’d used on female teachers at school to get out of trouble. “So you’re happy for the baby to have my name?”
It was bizarre to realize she’d never actually thought about this; she’d just assumed a baby took its father’s name, but if things between them didn’t work out, that would mean she’d have a different name than her child. “I guess it’s something we need to think about. We could always go double-barreled—like Sawyer-McKinnel or McKinnel-Sawyer.”
“Not a fan, myself,” Quinn said, his eyes trained on the road. “I always wonder what happens when two people with double-barreled names have kids. Do their children have four surnames? But Bailey McKinnel has a nice ring to it.”
Her heart hitched a beat and she almost choked on the water she’d just swallowed. “If that’s a proposal, Quinn McKinnel, you’ll have to do a lot better. Besides, we’re supposed to be taking things slow, remember?” And she wouldn’t marry him unless she was one hundred percent certain they were doing it for the right reasons.
He let out a deep sigh as he turned into the clinic parking lot. “I remember.”
And he had been on his best behavior these last two weeks. They’d spent a lot of time together, finishing the invitations and making further plans for Nora’s party, but kissing had been as far as they’d gone. Quinn had made it clear he would take her lead, but Bailey found herself questioning why she’d insisted on getting to know each other better first. Her head was guarding her heart from getting hurt, but her body didn’t care abo
ut that kind of pain.
Without another word, he parked his new SUV, then climbed out and went around to hold the passenger door open for her. He didn’t take her hand as they walked toward the building, and she told herself this was because he knew she was worried about them being seen, but she felt the loss immensely.
Inside the clinic, Quinn took a seat while Bailey went to check in at the reception desk.
“They’re on time,” Bailey told him when she returned and lowered herself into the seat beside him. “It shouldn’t be long.”
“Here’s the app I mentioned,” Quinn said, angling the screen on his phone for her to see. “You put in the gender, then you can select from a whole host of other categories and they offer you a selection of names.”
“Do you want to find out the baby’s sex?” she asked, leaning close as she read down the list of categories—letter, religion, nationality, celebrity, traditional, etc.
He deliberated a moment. “You know, I’m not sure I do. What do you think?”
“Another thing I can’t decide.”
He chuckled and squeezed her hand, just as a tall woman appeared. “Bailey Sawyer,” she called into the waiting room.
“That’s us. Well, you,” Quinn said as he stood and pulled her to her feet.
As they followed the woman down a short corridor, Bailey swallowed—the squirminess in her stomach like no nerves she’d ever had before.
“You okay?” Quinn whispered, as if he could sense her anxiety.
She blinked and nodded, so glad that she’d made the decision to tell him. He’d been there at conception, so it was right he was here for this next milestone and she couldn’t imagine doing this alone. What if there was something wrong with her baby? She couldn’t bear thinking about it.
As the sonographer closed the door to the little room behind them, she introduced herself as Sherry and shook both their hands. “Right, Bailey, hop up there for me,” she said with a smile as she gestured to an examination table with the back elevated. “Dad, you can take the chair alongside.”
The two of them did as they were told and Bailey wondered what Quinn thought of being called Dad. She guessed it was something both of them needed to get used to.
Sherry explained the process of the ultrasound and asked Bailey to pull up her shirt. Although Quinn had seen a lot more of her naked only a few months ago, her cheeks turned pinker as she did so. Then Sherry squeezed a gel—a little cold, she apologized—against Bailey’s belly and began to rub it all over with the probe.
“How far along did you think you were?”
“About ten weeks? Why?”
“It’s just...your bump is quite big for your dates.”
Bailey’s heart leaped to her throat at the possibility she’d made a mistake and that somehow the baby was Callum’s, not Quinn’s. Please, God, no. Not only would that be awfully complicated, it would break her heart. This pregnancy might have been unexpected, but she didn’t want to parent with anyone but Quinn. She dared a look at him; he’d gone pale, but his face was trained on the screen, which she suddenly realized had an image on it.
“And there’s your reason,” Sherry announced, her smile coming through in her voice. “Twins!”
“What?” Bailey stared at the image on the screen as it started to take shape in front of her.
“There is a history of twins on my side,” Quinn said proudly. “You know my dad was a twin, right? And there’s also Lachlan’s kids.”
“These little babies have nothing to do with heredity,” Sherry said. “You’re having identical twins and they’re a spontaneous event. A miracle, really.”
“Identical?” Bailey breathed. “Can you tell the sex yet?”
“I’m sorry. It’s too early, but let’s have a proper look and check everything is progressing as it should.”
Bailey felt Quinn’s hand envelop hers and they exchanged a look of wonder before she turned her eyes back to the screen. Their babies looked like two little gray blobs floating in darkness, but they were the most beautiful blobs she’d ever seen.
“I don’t want to alarm you,” Sherry said, jolting Bailey from her bubble, “but as your babies are sharing the same placenta, there is the slight chance of twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome.”
“What’s that?” Quinn sounded as alarmed as Bailey felt.
“I’ll give you a brochure and your obstetrician will be able to answer any questions you have, but basically it occurs when the twins share an unequal supply of the placenta’s blood, which results in the fetuses growing at different rates.”
“Is it dangerous?” she and Quinn asked at the same time.
“It can be, but only ten to twenty percent of identical twin pregnancies are affected, so there’s more chance of this being a perfectly healthy twin pregnancy than not. Everything certainly looks as it should at the moment, but we’ll need to monitor the situation with frequent ultrasounds to make sure things stay that way.”
“Okay. Good.” Bailey relaxed a little and looked to Quinn, who looked part excited, part terrified.
“I’ll print you off some photos,” Sherry said, pressing a button on her machine and then tearing off some paper towels from a dispenser. “You can wipe your stomach clean again now, and if you want to use a bathroom, there’s one on your left just outside the door.”
* * *
While Bailey sneaked off to relieve herself, Quinn waited for their ultrasound photos. Identical twins! He could hardly believe it as he stared down at the black-and-white images in his hand. He’d barely just adjusted to the idea of one baby. It didn’t seem two minutes since his brother Lachlan had shown them similar images of his twins, although it was actually almost nine years and technology had advanced a lot since. These photos were much clearer.
As the paper quivered in his fingers, he realized his hands were shaking—overwhelmed by the news of twins. One baby was terrifying enough, but two! He didn’t want to alarm Bailey, but even before Sherry had mentioned the small possibility of twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome, he’d come out in a cold sweat. He knew cerebral palsy like his nephew had wasn’t a familial thing, but he also knew that statistically more could go wrong with multiple births. Premature delivery happened frequently with twins and often led to complications.
Twins were double the excitement and double the stress.
Yet seeing the image on the screen had made everything real—his heart had been thumping so hard he thought it might crash, but there’d also been this joy like nothing he’d ever felt before. The thought of anything happening to either of those tiny beings made him feel physically ill. He realized he would do everything within his power, and then some, to protect them. There was so much to do in the next few months to get ready for the biggest adventure of their lives.
“Hey!” The door of the bathroom opened and Bailey emerged. She all but snatched the photos from his grasp. “Oh, my goodness. Can you believe this?”
The pure delight in her eyes and her voice made him smile and he told himself to stop thinking about the worst that could happen and try to enjoy the ride. “Pretty amazing, hey?”
Her smile was so wide he wasn’t sure anything could ever wipe it off.
“Do you need to go back to work this afternoon?” he asked.
She sighed and some stray hairs that had fallen across her face flicked up as she did so. “I’m supposed to, but after this—” She waved the photos in front of his face, still grinning. “I’m really not in the right headspace.”
“Me, neither,” he said. “It’s Friday afternoon. Why don’t we knock off early? We can go pick up your car, then head back to my place and hang out. I’ll make you dinner.”
She looked up from the photos a moment. “You cook?”
“Not as well as Lachlan or Mom, but better than the rest of my famil
y.” And he figured showing off his prowess in the kitchen could only help his quest to prove what a good parent he could be.
Her eyes sparkled. “This I have to see.”
Ten minutes later, Quinn dropped Bailey off at the hotel and she promised to follow as soon as she could. On his way back to Jewell Rock, he popped into the supermarket and picked up all the ingredients he needed to make a creamy chicken-and-veg pasta. It might not sound fancy, but the moment she put the first forkful into her mouth, she’d be begging him to make it again and again. That’s if the morning sickness didn’t stop her enjoying it. Why did they call it morning sickness, when obviously—if Bailey’s experience was any indication—the nausea struck at all hours of the day? With this thought, he added a couple of bottles of ginger ale and some dry crackers to his shopping cart and then headed for the registers.
He and Bailey arrived at his place—a small house he’d got cheap because it was in need of a lot of TLC—at the same time. Until now, they’d been spending their time together at her apartment under the ruse of party planning. Her coming here felt like another step in the right direction.
“You were quick,” he said as they climbed out of their respective vehicles.
“My boss had already gone home, so I didn’t have to make any excuses.” She was still clutching the little strip of photos like they were the winning ticket to tonight’s lottery super draw, but as she approached him, she glanced at her car.
“Relax,” he said, grabbing his grocery bags out of the trunk, “if anyone sees your car, they’ll just assume you’re here working on Mom’s party.” The invitations had gone out last week.
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