by Tina Beckett
That wasn’t what she’d thought all those nights ago.
She shook her head to clear it, realizing her parents were still staring at her.
The writing. Her dad had said he could see the writing on the wall.
“We’re not going to rush into anything. We’re both busy people.”
“Not too busy to get married and have a family, surely?” her mum protested.
She had a point as far as that was concerned. Jess didn’t make much time for her personal life. Ever since she and Martin had broken things off, she hadn’t wanted to date or do anything else for that matter. Which was why she allowed herself to be talked into working extra shifts. She was so knackered on most nights she went home and fell right into bed—alone.
And forty years from now, would she be settled into the same routine? Or maybe she’d have ninety-nine cats to keep her warm in bed.
Dean had been so sweet after her reaction to the Christmas party’s venue. He could have easily found a date for the evening. Instead, he’d offered to go with her and leave whenever she’d had enough. He’d put her feelings ahead of his own.
Would he be as attentive in bed?
Jess shivered. She had no doubt he would be an excellent lover. How else would he have gotten the reputation he had? If he were a jerk about things afterward, surely she would have heard about it? But no. Women swooned over him.
“We’re trying to play things by ear, Mum. These things can’t be hurried.”
Her mother made a scoffing sound. “Your sister has quite a head start on you in the department of providing us with grandchildren.”
Jess tensed. “You’re getting way ahead of yourself.”
Maybe her mother sensed something in her voice, because she came back with, “Of course I am. But speaking of children, how is my newest little granddaughter?”
“She’s doing wonderfully. We’re going to try to give her her first bottle this afternoon.”
“Abbie will be so pleased to hear it.”
Her father had gone silent in the background, but he was looking at her through the computer with a slight frown on his face, even as the pictures of her and Dean kept flashing by in another window of the screen.
Oh, no. She knew that expression. He was about to ask something tricky.
She tried to head things off at the pass. “How is Jerry doing? Is he still in hospital?”
“He is. He’s quite ill, actually.” Her mum waved her hand in front of the screen when Jess’s eyes widened. “His life isn’t in danger, of course, but you can just tell he’s poorly. Abbie did the right thing in coming home.”
“It couldn’t have been an easy decision.” Her sister’s behavior that last day still puzzled her. The whole putting makeup on the baby’s leg and then those enigmatic words about being punished. But at least she finally seemed ready to make peace with their own personal past.
“It wasn’t. All she talks about is going back for the baby once Jerry is well enough.”
“Marissa will be here for a couple more weeks, I should think. She still has a bit of weight to put on.”
“Jess.” Her father’s voice pulled at her. “Are you happy?”
The question was so far removed from what they’d been talking about that it took her brain a moment or two to untangle the words. Once she did, they hit her between the eyes. She squirmed in her seat, hating that she was deceiving them like this. She should have just taken whatever Abbie dished out...except that Abbie was making not only herself miserable, but everyone around her. Going along with Dean’s fib had seemed a small price to pay at the time. But it had grown into this gargantuan monster that required more lies to keep the original one from being discovered.
“He’s a good man.” Words very much like the ones she’d said as she’d stood in front of that poster for the Christmas party. And it was true. Dean had been a good sport. It didn’t hurt that he was also a great kisser. The memory of his lips moving across hers in front of her house came to mind. And then at the pub. On the ice.
She wanted to kiss him again. Wanted to find some measure of satisfaction in his arms.
Should she? He’d offered to leave the Christmas party early if she wanted to. What if she asked him to leave for a completely different reason?
Would he say yes?
After what she’d done at the pub? She had no idea.
“I didn’t ask that.” Her dad wasn’t going to let this alone evidently. “I asked if you were happy.”
Yes. She was. This time with Dean had brought her joy. He was fun, sexy, brave. And watching him cradle Marissa in those big hands had done a number on her heart. She was happy to have spent this time with him. Even if it never went any further.
“Yes. I’m happy. Does that satisfy you?”
Her mum sighed. “I can just see the love in your eyes when you say that.”
She could? Then Jess had better smack it right back out of there. She didn’t love him.
Like him? Yes. Lust after him? Um, double yes.
That was what she’d been doing just moments ago. Lusting. Was she going to do something about it?
Maybe. For one night of hot sex.
Warmth swept along her inner thighs, setting areas to tingling that needed to remain still and quiet. She was on the phone with her parents, for goodness’ sake.
“I’m sure Dean will be thrilled to hear you say that.” She didn’t roll her eyes. At least not outwardly. But inside? Oh, yes, they were rolling all around like those fake glasses with the googly eyes.
Suddenly superstitious about everything that had happened, she crossed her fingers behind her back and hoped the universe took pity on her situation. The last thing she needed was for it to look down at her and decide to give her exactly what she deserved.
“Well, I’d probably better go. I need to go shopping for a dress for the Christmas party and I have a shift in the morning.”
“Christmas party?” Her mum’s brows went up. “This is the first I’ve heard of this.”
“It’s for the hospital staff. They’re having it at the same hotel as your anniversary party, actually.”
“Such a beautiful place. Are you going with Dean?”
Finally. One thing she was not going to have to lie about. “I am.”
“Well, we definitely wouldn’t want to keep you from shopping. Pick out something that will knock him dead.”
“Not too dead,” her dad interjected with a smile. “We want him alive and well.” His voice turned serious. “After that business with Martin, I’m glad you’ve found someone.”
Her heart ached all over again. Her dad had never quite forgiven her ex for breaking off their engagement, although he hid it well. But Jess saw glimpses of it every once in a while. Just a flash of narrowed eyes or a frown when he listened to his son-in-law, but she’d caught it, just the same.
“Dean’s a peach, all right.” She forced a bright smile. “I’ve got to run, though. Chat again soon?”
“After the party, if not before.” Her mum planted a kiss on her husband’s cheek. “We’ll want to hear every detail.”
If Jess got the nerve up to do what she was thinking of doing, there would be at least one part of the evening her parents would never hear about.
Because she had made up her mind—at least she hoped so. She just needed to drum up the courage to follow through.
She was going to back Dean into a corner at that very posh hotel and ask him to spend the night with her. She did want a fling. A real one. Not with just anyone—and certainly not with some stranger from the pub—but with Dean. Maybe then she could stop obsessing about the man.
He did casual sex on a regular basis, so there’d be no chance of him getting the wrong idea about where they were headed afterward. Right?
So it was s
ettled. She would do it.
And then she’d just hope and pray he didn’t do what she’d done at that pub...and turn around and walk away.
* * *
She was feeding the baby.
Dean stood back against the wall and watched with interest, a lump forming in his throat. Jess didn’t know he was here—not yet, anyway—he’d seen her through the window and quietly entered the SCBU through the side door. All her attention had been on the tiny infant cradled in her arms, cooing and talking softly to her. “Good girl. Mummy is going to be so happy to know you’re drinking from your bottle.”
A few of the tubes had been removed this morning, once they knew for sure that the baby’s suck reflex was going strong. Using a gloved pinkie finger, Dean had been thrilled when the infant’s head had tracked the path of his finger, trying to root around and latch on. The next step had been to introduce the real thing.
And the baby had done it. She’d latched onto the bottle’s teat and started sucking with enthusiasm.
That wasn’t the only good news. The baby born to the woman with eclampsia was also improving in small steady increments. In fact, that baby was in the cot right next to Marissa’s. Dean had come to check on him.
Jess murmured again and the knot in his throat tightened further. She was going to make such a good mother. Unlike his own, who’d been so young that she hadn’t known her own mind. Or how to protect herself—and Dean—from the drunken fool she’d married.
He hadn’t heard anything else about his father since he’d received the news that he’d been let out of prison. The one good thing was that his mum was long gone. He’d never be able to hurt her again. And Dean would make sure the man didn’t get close enough to anyone he cared about to hurt them either.
Exactly who would that be? Dean had no one. And that was how he wanted to keep it.
His gaze traveled back to Jess, and he realized her light brown eyes were no longer focused on the baby. She was staring right at him, a question written in her gaze.
“What?” he mouthed.
She shook her head.
Quietly moving over to where she sat, he crouched down beside her. “How’s she doing?”
Jess smiled. The sight almost knocked him over. There was a radiance to her eyes and a soul-searing happiness in the softness of her face that spoke of a woman in love.
He swallowed. No one had ever looked at him like that.
And even though he knew the expression was for the minute creature she held in her arms, he could pretend for just a few seconds what it might be like to have had a mum like this one.
Only Jess wasn’t a mum. And this wasn’t her child.
He shook himself back to reality.
“Brilliantly,” Jess murmured. “Just look at her.”
In order to stop staring at the woman, he did as she asked and glanced down at the baby. With a tiny tuft of light hair on her head and blue eyes that fixed on Jess’s face, she sucked with quiet enthusiasm. A drop of white appeared at the outer corner of her lips and he reached for Jess’s arm where the burping rag had slipped and used it to carefully dab at the speck.
On impulse, he leaned over and kissed the baby’s head, smiling when she shifted as if irritated by the interruption. When his attention moved back to Jess, he was surprised to find her eyes moist.
“Are you okay?”
“Just happy that she’s getting stronger.”
“We all are.”
She pulled in a deep breath. “Yes. Of course. So did you get yourself a tux? The party is just days away.”
“I already have one.”
Her lips tightened slightly. “I imagine you go to quite a few fancy parties.”
“Not so many, no. I bought the tux for a friend’s wedding before I realized that most people simply rent and return them. I figured since I had it, I could use it whenever I needed one for a fancy dinner.” His brows lifted. “Don’t think I’ve used it twice since then, actually.”
“Oh.” The tense lines beside her mouth eased. “Well, I bought a new dress and a killer pair of shoes.”
“Killer, eh?” He had no idea what that meant, but he was imagining sky-high heels and a very short hemline. Not a very realistic idea, however. “I thought your red one was quite nice.”
She crinkled her nose. “That wasn’t the happiest night of my life. I’ve decided to retire that frock to the back of the wardrobe. No, the one I bought is blue and gold. It’s very festive.”
And because he couldn’t curb his curiosity about her footwear he decided to ask. “And your shoes—are they gold as well?”
“Yes. Strappy. With a dangerously high heel.”
After the way she’d murmured those words, that wasn’t the only thing that was becoming dangerously high. And in the Special Care Baby Unit, of all places.
“And how do you plan to walk in those dangerous heels?”
Her teeth caught one corner of her lower lip for a few seconds before releasing it. “Oh, I don’t plan on walking.”
Bloody hell. And the dangerously high areas were getting higher.
She laughed as if guessing exactly what he was thinking. Minx!
“I don’t plan on walking,” she said again. “I plan on dancing.”
“Dancing? Well, I hope your dance card is empty, because that is something I would like to see.”
Her index finger reached up to stroke across the baby’s forehead. “In all honesty, I just want to keep from breaking my neck.”
“You seemed pretty competent out there on the ice. Unlike someone else we both know.”
“Hmm...you are the one who fell, aren’t you? Well, as long as you don’t take me down with you, we should be fine.”
He couldn’t hold back the smile. The woman was sexy as hell with a side of realism that made him want to do all sorts of crazy things. “We’ll just have to help each other stay on our feet, then.”
“I was hoping you’d say that, because if you could see these shoes...”
If she didn’t stop talking about them, he was going to have a real problem when he stood up to leave. Time to bring himself back to earth. “Do you think you’ll be taller than me?”
“Ha! I don’t think they make shoes that tall.”
The way she said that made something in his stomach curl. He could have sworn there was a grudging admiration...or maybe even attraction...tucked inside those words.
He might just have to find out.
But not here. Not surrounded by ill children.
Once that Christmas party came around, though, he was going to have to see if the woman was all talk and no action. Or if she’d changed her mind and decided they wouldn’t make such a bad pair, after all.
His phone went off, and he glanced down at the screen. It was the maternity unit. “Duty calls,” he said. “Can you get her back in her cot without help?”
“I got her out by myself so I think so.” She nodded toward the door. “Go on. We’ll be fine. If I have any trouble, I’ll call a nurse.”
With that, Dean climbed back to his feet. But not without throwing one last glance behind him at the woman who was beginning to infiltrate his dreams. And worse, he had a feeling tonight’s dreams were going to include a certain pair of high strappy sandals, and, if he wasn’t mistaken, he’d be plotting all kinds of ways to get her out of them.
Just then, Jess’s phone went off. With a frown, she glanced down at the readout. “Oh, no.”
He had his hand on the door, knowing he needed to go. “What?”
“I’m being called down to Maternity as well. It’s my friend Amy. I’m her midwife, and she’s in crisis.”
* * *
They arrived in a chaotic maternity unit just as the baby was delivered by C-section. Although the baby was ob
viously full term, the newborn was blue and limp with no reflexes. No heart rate. The nursing staff were already administering chest compressions. Leaping into action, he went to work intubating the baby and pushing air, while Jess stood in the background looking shell-shocked.
“What happened?” he bit out.
Isabel looked up from where she was still working on Jess’s friend, who was under general anesthesia. The floor was littered with bloody towels. “Grade three placental abruption. Worrisome fetal heart rate that bottomed out just as we were going in. We’re taking her uterus.”
“Oh, God.” Jess’s startled cry echoed what they were all thinking.
Taking the uterus to save the life of the mother. Even as they worked on the baby, he ached for Jess’s friend, who might not only lose this child, but would never carry another.
Fifteen minutes went by in almost complete silence as everyone continued to work at a feverish pace. They administered adrenaline, hoping to stimulate the baby’s heart.
“Come on...come on...” He could hear the frustration in his voice. He realized Jess was standing over him as he willed the newborn to respond.
This time, it wasn’t going to work.
Time to call a halt...
Wait. A blip went across the monitor. Then another one. Another.
Everyone paused, staring at the machine, which had gone from almost a flat line to a trio of beats. The jumbled rhythm began to take shape, growing more and more regular with each second.
There! Sinus.
“Keep bagging him. We’re getting something.”
Jess’s voice came from beside him. “I can’t believe it.”
Abruptio placentae sometimes struck without warning. It was always an obstetrical emergency and depending on the amount of placenta that separated from the wall of the uterus the outcome could be good for both mother and baby, or it could be catastrophic.
“We’re not out of the woods yet.” They’d have to do an EEG to get an idea of brain function, but his heart was going.
Dean bit out a few more instructions to the team. He was in no rush to move the baby right now. Not until he was a little more stable. Until then, they needed to get him on a ventilator. Dean made the call.