The Baby Gamble

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  “Jake Chandler. I don’t believe it.” Cole just stood there, staring. “Wow.”

  “Might want to let him in, Cole,” Blake said, sweating a bit as he came forward.

  “Yeah, seems like I should meet the groom, if I’m going to be standing up at his wedding with the rest of the bunch.” Jake’s slow, easy walk as he stepped into the room, his longish hair, made it easy to believe the devil-may-care stories Blake had heard about him.

  “Jake. Damn. I can’t believe it’s you.” Cole reached out to shake the other man’s hand, and then pulled him into a back-pounding hug.

  Blake had done good.

  Jake was home.

  “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. We are gathered here today to witness the marriage of Annie Marie Kincaid to Blake Edward Smith….”

  Trembling, Annie stood in the garish red room, surrounded by velvet draperies and images of Elvis, enough flowers to make her slightly dizzy and music that was too loud. But with all of her loved ones around her, she knew that she was in the middle of a perfect moment.As she gave her hand to Blake, she had a fleeting thought of her father, as if he were smiling down at her, giving his blessing to the union.

  Giving Annie away to the man she loved with all her heart.

  With Becky and her mom standing on one side of them, and Luke, Jake, Cole and Brady—the Wild Bunch complete—on the other, she listened to the man who was officiating as he spoke about sacred duties, compromise and understanding. Having expected a quick, generic ceremony, considering their surroundings, and not really caring as long as she was married to Blake when they were done, Annie was impressed with the man’s offering.

  Blake stood beside her, steady, seemingly calm. Holding her hand as if he’d never let it go.

  There was a brief second of sadness when she glanced over to catch Luke Chisum staring at Becky Howard—with a longing in his eyes that Annie understood.

  She knew that feeling. She was marrying Blake, but he wasn’t hers yet. And she needed him to be. More than anything else, she needed him sharing every aspect of her life, living with her, loving her.

  Fully married to her in the eyes of God, the world, and in her eyes, too.

  Did Luke still love Becky that way? Hard to believe, considering all the time that had passed. And yet, considering the force that had pulled Annie and Blake together in this place, in spite of all the history between and around them, it wasn’t hard to believe at all.

  Somehow, some way, she had to get Becky to release the fear in her heart enough to talk to Luke. To at least see.

  Becky deserved a chance at real happiness. Especially now, with Shane giving her such challenges. She’d gone it alone long enough.

  “Do you, Blake Edward Smith, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health, until death you do part?”

  “I do.”

  “Do you, Annie Marie Kincaid, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, until death you do part?”

  “I do.”

  “Please turn and face each other.”

  Doing as she was told, Annie thought about the ring she’d slipped to Becky. The one she’d given Blake more than ten years before. The one he’d handed to her for safekeeping when he’d left on that business trip to the Middle East six years ago.

  Blake, with a searching look, took both of her hands in his, and Annie knew, in that second, that they were going to be okay. Really okay.

  Blake Smith didn’t know what had hit him yet. But he would. Just as soon as they got off the plane in San Antonio that night.

  She held out her left hand when instructed, and couldn’t stop the tears from springing to her eyes as she felt the thin gold band slide onto her finger. And then, turning to Becky, she took her own offering, holding Blake’s gaze as she slid his wedding ring back where it belonged.

  She wasn’t sure he recognized it. Didn’t expect he would. And then she felt his hand tremble in hers. Saw the moisture in his eyes and knew that he had.

  “Don’t you ever take this off again,” she said, interrupting the ceremony in a loud and clear voice. Her own wedding poem.

  “Never.” It was that vow that Annie heard, over and over, as their group went up to a penthouse dinner and then, changing clothes, took the limousine Blake had arranged back to the airport.

  There was to be no gambling today. They would form a circle around Brady Carrick and get him safely home.

  Because that’s what they did. Formed circles of love around each other and shared strengths where there were weaknesses.

  THE PLANE LANDED, they claimed their baggage and, after a quick exchange with Cole, June and Becky, Annie stepped alongside Blake. He saw the exchange. Didn’t know what it meant.

  Jake Chandler had come back to Texas with them, intending to arrange a funeral for his uncle, deal with the bar and then head back to California. But he was going to stay in touch this time.This was where the party ended for the day. Annie had her car. Blake had his. She had her home in River Bluff. His was in San Antonio.

  And he was okay with that. Fate had seen fit to give him this second chance to have Annie as a part of his life. And he would not waste a single moment mourning for what might have been. For what couldn’t be. He would, instead, be grateful every day of his life.

  Luke and Brady had driven together and, calling out their farewells, they headed off before the rest of them. Blake didn’t mean to interrupt, to observe something that was absolutely none of his business, but he couldn’t help noticing the long glance Luke Chisum gave Becky Howard as he took his leave.

  As far as Blake knew, the two had never exchanged so much as a word during the entire twenty-four hours they’d been in Las Vegas.

  Clearly, they should have. There was something to be said between them. That much was obvious.

  And maybe it was his business. Just as his business was theirs. Something to talk to Annie about.

  Sometime. Over the phone. Or in the waiting room at the doctor’s office.

  The members of their group slowly peeled off, going to their cars. Cole and his mother drove away, and that left only Blake’s wife and her best friend. The two women had driven to San Antonio together. Which meant that Blake wouldn’t have a moment alone with Annie before they parted.

  But he could call her later. Thank her for marrying him. Tell her that he was glad they’d done what they had that day. That he had no regrets.

  “Okay, call me.” Becky’s words reached him. The women were leaving. But why would Becky want him to call her? “See ya, Blake.” She walked to her car and got in.

  Leaving Annie standing there.

  “Let’s go,” she said brusquely, moving past him, wheeling her bag behind her.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To your car.”

  Standing there perplexed, and then maybe a bit frustrated, angry or something, Blake called out to her. “It’s not over there.”

  Annie turned around, came back, passed him and continued on her way.

  “It’s not there, either.”

  “Then where the hell is it?” she asked, standing before him.

  “Annie, what are you doing?”

  “Going home with my husband.” Her chin was lifted, her eyes daring him to argue with her.

  “Don’t do this, Annie. Don’t make it any harder than it already is.”

  “No, Blake, you have that wrong. I’m not the one making this hard. You are. You, with your antiquated thoughts of a man always having to be the strong one. Open your mind a bit, would you? The world has changed. Life has changed. We have changed. Now are you going to tell me where the car is or not?”

  Four different parties had stopped to look at them in the garage, as they passed on the way to their vehicles.

  That was the only reason Blake led Annie toward the Continental, unlocked the trunk and went to lift her bag inside beside his own.

  “I can get it,” she said, hauling the thing up with one hand and
easily depositing it in the trunk.

  She moved to the passenger door. Instinctively going to open it for her, Blake stopped. Annie was trying to make some kind of point, and he knew her well enough to know that she’d make it one way or another, sooner or later. He’d just as soon have it be sooner, so he could get her out of his car and safely back to River Bluff.

  Climbing in beside her, he put the key in the ignition but didn’t start the car.

  “What’s going on, Annie?”

  “We are, Blake,” she said, half mimicking him. But her gaze had softened, with compassion, vulnerability, and also a knowing determination that he didn’t think he’d ever seen there before.

  “My father committed suicide,” she said bluntly, reminding him of another thing he loved about Annie. She was always surprising him.

  “I know.”

  “It wasn’t his fault.”

  “I believe that.”

  “I didn’t. Not for a long time. He was a good man, Blake. He lived a good life. Created beautiful things, not only with his hands, but with his love. He made our family.”

  “Of course he did.”

  “He cared for us as long as he could, and when he couldn’t anymore, we cared for ourselves, because that’s what families do. They take up the slack for the people they love.”

  Blake could see where she was going with this. And couldn’t let her do it.

  “I love you, Blake Smith. More than life. More than anything I can think of. I’m not complete without you. And I’d rather live my life mad at you sometimes, frustrated with you, but always loving you, than be alone without the risk of ever having you hurt me again.”

  “I can’t, Annie.” His heart almost burst with what it took him to say that. “I just can’t.”

  “You don’t trust me.”

  “I don’t trust me.”

  “Well, I do. And that’ll just have to be enough for both of us.”

  He had to make her see.

  “I mean it, Blake. I’m not getting out of this car until you take me to your home, where I would like to be carried over the threshold. And then I need some loving. Lots and lots of it. Hours of it. Until you’re so exhausted you can’t possibly climb out of our bed, and you fall asleep in my arms instead.”

  “I have a night stalker.” He’d never have believed he’d say the words, if he hadn’t just clearly heard them.

  “A cat that comes around?” Annie asked, frowning.

  “No. A demon that opens my bedroom door at night and jumps on my chest.”

  “Okay.” She didn’t even flinch. “Does he have a name?”

  “No.” She wasn’t taking this seriously. And, really, that was for the best. He’d laugh it off. Take her home to River Bluff and make her get out of his car.

  “Does he visit every night?”

  “No.”

  “How often does he come?”

  “I don’t know,” Blake said, running a hand through his hair, feeling exhausted all of a sudden. “A few times a year. Unless I’m under a lot of stress.”

  “Has he been by a lot lately?”

  “Once. A couple of weeks ago.”

  “I’d say you’ve been under a hell of a lot of stress, lately,” she said.

  “For me, yes.”

  “And he only came once?”

  “What’s your point, Annie?”

  “I’m not afraid of him, Blake. I’m not afraid of any of your demons. I’m stronger than they are. I want to be the light in your darkness.”

  With a soft grasp, she took hold of his chin, leaned forward until they were almost nose to nose, and looked him straight in the eye.

  “Listen to me carefully, Blake,” she said succinctly. “I am not afraid of you.”

  And with six innocuous little words, Annie freed him from the hell that he’d believed eternal.

  “We’ll watch the warning signs, love,” she said, wiping a tear from his cheek. “You’ll teach me, and we’ll watch them together. And if we miss some, if there’s an episode, I’ll avoid your punch. Okay? I’ll always avoid your punch.”

  He didn’t know what to say. Now, at the most critical time, he couldn’t find words.

  “Just say okay.”

  “Okay.” And then, as though the one word released a dam, he couldn’t stop. “Oh, God, Annie, what you do to me. You have always been the sunshine in my heart, do you know that? I’d rather die than lose that again.”

  “You are everything to me, Blake. You always have been. Which is why we need each other so badly.”

  She was right. He could see that now.

  “You have to promise me that you’ll keep yourself safe, when I can’t do it for you,” he said now, completely firm. Without that promise he’d walk away. “No heroics, Annie.”

  “No heroics, I promise.”

  “I mean it.”

  “I loaded my own suitcase, Blake. I can always do that as long as you’re there beside me opening the trunk. And I can open the trunk, too, if you need me to.”

  He couldn’t believe this was happening. That the skies had finally opened, giving him back his life. And giving his life to her.

  “Don’t ever let me shut you out,” he said now drawing her forehead to his with a hand behind her neck. “Push me, nag me, yell at me, if that’s what it takes, but keep with me until the words come. Because I want them to, Annie. I had too many years of needing to talk to you and having you not be there. I don’t ever want that to happen again.”

  “I know,” she said, wetting her lips as she smiled. “And I know, now, that your quietness is just you, not a reflection of your feelings for me. I’m okay with that. I actually kind of like it. Someone like Cole would drive me crazy—”

  That last word got lost as Blake covered her mouth with his own.

  He’d been gone a long time. Taken against his will, held captive while he fought with everything he had to free himself. Fought to endure. To hang on. To rise above. To survive. It seemed like he’d been fighting his way out forever.

  And right there, in the front seat of an old Lincoln Continental, in the parking garage of the San Antonio airport, Blake Smith finally won.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-0731-2THE BABY GAMBLE

  Copyright © 2007 by Tara Taylor Quinn.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

  www.eHarlequin.com