Pregnant with the Boss's Baby

by Sue MacKay

  By remembering the anguish in Mam’s face at Sebastian and Dad’s funeral. One funeral, two coffins, two goodbyes. Half the family gone. ‘Some things just have to be done, and for me it’s running endless kilometres. Don’t know what I’ll do when the body doesn’t want to pound the pavement any more.’

  ‘Take up go-go dancing.’ Tamara flicked him an uneasy glance, like she didn’t want any more bad news yet had to find out. ‘So. Our baby. What are the chances our child will have a heart problem? Is there any way we can find out or do we have to wait until a cardiac event happens?’

  She’d got to the crux of the matter. The reason why he’d determined never to have children in the first place. ‘I didn’t explain properly. My brother didn’t die of a heart attack but as the result of being in the car Dad was driving when he had his. The car went over the bridge onto the rocks thirty feet below.’

  ‘That’s a rough deal,’ she gasped. ‘Your poor mother. And you. How did you cope? Hell, Conor, I’m burbling. I don’t know what to say. It’s awful.’

  ‘Yes, it is. So you’ll understand when I said I couldn’t have children. There’s no way I wanted that happening to my family again.’

  ‘I get that completely. But now you are going to be a dad so we have to talk about our child’s medical future.’

  He tapped his fingers on the arms of the recliner he sat in. ‘It will be a wait-and-see approach for now. Who knows? Medical knowledge is progressing all the time so things could change. But I’ll have junior checked by a cardiologist from the moment he’s born.’ Now he was going with the male thing. ‘Or before if it’s thought necessary.’

  ‘We will.’

  ‘Sorry.’ He wasn’t used to factoring someone else into his decision-making.

  Her hands splayed across her belly. ‘We’ve got knowledge on our side.’

  Conor reached for her hands. They were cold and shaky. ‘I’ll talk to one of the cardiologists in the next couple of weeks. One step at a time, eh?’ And he’d keep his fingers crossed all the while that nothing ever went wrong for junior.

  ‘You’ll talk to someone? Excuse me, buster, but I am as much a part of this as you.’

  Conor winced. He’d done it again. ‘This is as tricky for me to negotiate as it is for you to take in.’

  Tamara nodded as her hands tightened around his. ‘I get that.’ She gulped. ‘I’m afraid.’

  His chest felt as though it’d been slammed. Tamara afraid? ‘Why?’

  Her eyes widened. ‘Can I do this?’

  ‘You? Tamara, you’ll be amazing.’

  ‘I always wanted children, to have the kind of warm, loving family I grew up in.’ Another gulp. ‘Until Peter, that is. I got him so wrong. How can I—or you—trust me with a baby? To steer a child through to adulthood? I’m not qualified. I make dreadful decisions.’ The words were tumbling out as though she had to say all this fast in case she froze.

  Yep, that man had a lot to answer for. This kind, wonderful woman was a blithering wreck behind the confident nurse’s façade. ‘You’re better than that. Don’t let him continue winning.’

  ‘I’m trying not to.’ Her bottom lip trembled, reminding him of a little girl he’d treated a couple of days ago with a greenstick fracture to her ulna. Only it was Tamara’s confidence that was fractured here. And, he suspected, her heart.

  He’d have to nurture her, show she was capable of giving love and receiving it back. Huh? Love had nothing to do with their situation. Or did it? He’d been intending to leave Auckland to get away from her, and that hadn’t been because he couldn’t stand her. But to do that meant getting close. Not happening. ‘You don’t need qualifications to be a parent, just love and patience and understanding. Kindness. Sympathy. You’ve got the lot, Tamara.’ Conor stood up to pull her to her feet so he could wrap her in a hug. ‘Take that determination you had for applying to med school into this new scenario. You can do whatever you want if you don’t let the past shackle you.’ Definitely do as he said, not as he did.

  Her head nodded against his chest. ‘I know. Some of the time.’

  She fitted so well in his arms, against his length, as though made to be there. Which had nothing to do with their predicament. Or maybe everything to do with it, considering how babies were made. A deep breath in fed his senses with hints of spring and had him softening further into her, holding her tighter, closer. ‘You’ve got me with you on this.’

  Tamara shivered, and tension crept into her arms. Too much?

  Then his own words whacked him around the skull. He’d just made a commitment he hadn’t thought through. So withdraw it. No way. That wasn’t how he operated. He did not walk away when life got tough.

  You left Ireland when you couldn’t face your sisters’ happiness, knowing you couldn’t join them in family life.

  His fingers dragged through his hair. Okay, so what? He wasn’t leaving Tamara to face raising the baby on her own. Neither would he ever desert his child. Hell, now he was going to be a dad he should be looking forward to embracing the whole deal.

  She told him, ‘We’ll keep a fierce watch over our child.’

  Conor slowly let his arm fall away and stepped back. ‘I don’t want to repeat what happened to my brother.’

  Those sweet, generous arms were back around him, and this time he was the one being pulled close. ‘Conor, you’re tormenting yourself over something you can’t control. I understand that’s why you’ve opted not to have a family but that’s changed.’ The words were whispered against his throat and were followed with a feather-light kiss. Then Tamara stood still, holding him, letting him hold her, as they absorbed strength and comfort from each other. At least he hoped he was giving Tamara as good as she gave him, because it felt right, and she needed good as much as he did.

  Finally, as though there’d been a signal, they stepped apart and sat down in their respective chairs. Conor watched Tam closely, glad to see nothing to suggest she wanted him gone, out of the picture because of his history. He risked, ‘We’ll sort all this out but no more tonight. We’re both exhausted.’ He still needed to get his head around the fact he was going to be a dad. And then there were decisions to make. Only that morning he’d had an email from Sydney about a second interview for the job—this time face to face. The job he’d been excited about and still wanted.

  ‘At least I’m not on my own.’ Relief warred with worry in that brown gaze fixed on him.

  Hopefully Tam would move to Australia with him if he got the job. That would solve everything about how to jointly raise their child. ‘You’ve told no one else you’re pregnant? Not even Kelli?’ When she shook her head he asked, ‘What about your mother?’

  Her face tightened, and she sat up straighter. ‘We don’t communicate.’

  ‘At all?’ Didn’t sound like there were many people in Tamara’s life to support her.

  ‘I tried tonight. She hung up the moment I said hello. That’s how it works with us.’

  ‘Because of what happened with your fiancé?’

  Her nod was sharp. ‘Mum was so hurt by it all.’

  As her daughter had been. Conor smiled into that worried face and changed the subject to something lighter. They’d had more than enough doom and gloom for one night. ‘Have you eaten?’

  A blush crept up her cheeks. ‘Ah, no. I could go for a pizza delivery right now. All I had today were those pastries for lunch.’

  Yes. Her eyes were lightening, the mud shade beginning to sparkle just a little bit, reminding him of cocoa this time. He hadn’t realised how much he’d needed to see that twinkle and how special it was when it happened.

  ‘Your propensity for takeout food’s interesting. Going to feed baby on Indian curries before he’s twelve months old?’ More than once he’d seen her hoeing into a korma at lunchtime in the department.

 
‘If it’s good enough for Indians to bring their children up on spicy food, it’s got to work for mine.’ Now the sparkle was at full wattage.

  On the inside he was melting, giving in to the wonderful sensations suggesting he might’ve found his soul mate. Suggesting he might not turn tail and hide from happiness. ‘You should bottle that look.’

  ‘What?’ Puzzlement tipped her mouth awry, and he just had to lean over to kiss her. To seal the day with a kiss? To show her they were on the same page? Two kisses. They hadn’t even started sorting all the obstacles in front of them. Three.

  As his lips brushed hers again he felt her pushing closer, and deepening the kiss was a natural follow-up. Afraid she’d tip onto the floor, he grabbed her and lifted her onto his thighs. She was acting as if she wanted more, despite all her misgivings. Because she had plenty, that was obvious. Well, he was going to do all he could to see her through some of them, to banish or work them out of her system. She deserved someone on her side. Someone to bat for her, to hold her when the going got too tough. Someone who still had to figure out what had been dropped on him, and changed his world for ever. Right now he had no energy for thinking.

  If you had to get stuck in the pregnancy situation then you couldn’t have picked a better, more gorgeous woman to be there with.

  Conor straightened. Whoa! Where had that come from?

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Tamara asked as she tipped back against him, her fingers tracing her lips where he’d been placing those kisses.

  Kisses he’d love to follow up on. To turn away from their problems and lose themselves in each other. But nothing would’ve changed, might even be harder to work through if they did that. Could have him aiming for the moon, and not only working to make everything okay for their baby. Hauling the brakes on his libido, he answered her question. ‘Nothing, absolutely nothing.’

  Disbelief filled her eyes. ‘What are you on, buster?’

  ‘Adrenalin.’

  Another aspect of Tamara filled his mind as he looked across at her. Laughing, sexy, fun Tamara letting her hair down with him as they made love. And they’d made a baby apparently. The tension in his stomach turned to goo. He was going to be a dad. The decision had been taken away from him and now he had to go with it. Could go with it and imagine the excitement. Let it in.

  I want to go with it.

  ‘I’m going to be a father.’ The love winding through him was beyond description. For so long he’d refused to contemplate becoming a parent and now it was happening regardless. So, yes, he was starting to see it for the wonderful opportunity it was. Not that he was foolish enough to believe the worry wouldn’t be huge, hold him down at times, but Tamara had been right to point out there was more to becoming a parent than the apprehension.

  ‘Weren’t we talking about food?’ Her practical question knocked him back into the here and now of finishing their day on a normal note.

  ‘Yes, and I’m starving.’

  ‘I can’t wait for a pizza delivery. There’s some steak and things to make a salad in the fridge.’

  ‘Let’s hit it.’ He hadn’t had dinner either, having been too wound up and needing to have everything out with Tamara to think about eating. ‘I’ll cook the steak. I don’t do a bad job.’

  ‘Go for it. There’s a barbecue at the back door, though I’m not sure if it works. I’ve never used it. Hardly seemed worth the effort for one small piece of meat.’

  ‘What’s the alternative?’

  ‘A heavy pan on the element.’

  ‘That’ll do.’

  In the kitchen Tamara was opening cupboards, lifting out a pan, plates, salad bowl. All top-of-the-range equipment.

  ‘You have excellent taste in furnishings and utilities,’ he noted as he opened the fridge to find the steak.

  ‘They came from my parents’ home. I helped myself to enough to furnish this place before the courts placed a “to be sold” order on everything. But even then I think I’d have got away with going back for extras if I’d wanted. The receivers were more than kind to me after they heard what had happened. They didn’t believe I deserved to be thrown out in the street on my butt with absolutely nothing but the shoes I was wearing. By then they’d had time to study the business affairs and follow the money trail.’

  Placing the steak on the bench, he went in search of cooking oil in the pantry. Go for serious or fun? ‘I’m trying to get around the vision of you sitting naked in the street wearing only a pair of shoes. It’s quite a sight, believe me.’

  ‘The neighbours mightn’t have approved.’ Tamara’s laughter filled the room, pulled them together in a cosy, let’s-be-normal kind of way.

  Except it wasn’t normal for him. He didn’t share his kitchen with anyone. Or his lounge or bedroom. Tamara had been the only woman he’d taken back there.

  ‘Bet they would. You forget I’ve seen that butt and it’s quite something.’ Not that he wanted to share the experience with anyone else. Didn’t want another man knocking on Tamara’s door anytime. Down, boy. Keep to the cosy and cook the steak.

  ‘Tell me more about your family.’ Tamara was chopping a red onion at a frenzied rate that had no consistency behind it.

  Fearing for her fingers, Conor placed his hand on her wrist. ‘Stop, woman. You’re going to do yourself an injury at that rate.’ He tugged the knife free and began systematically dicing the onion. ‘What else do you want sliced?’

  ‘All of these.’ She placed tomatoes, cucumber, capsicum, a carrot and celery on the bench before digging through the vegetable bin again.

  ‘The steak’s on hold while I do this.’

  ‘You worry too much. I’ve been chopping vegetables for years and still got all ten digits.’

  He turned to her question about his family. ‘I’ve got four half-sisters and they’re all bonkers. I adore them, and wouldn’t swap them for a saner variety.’

  ‘That’s cool. Are their kids normal or—’ she made finger quotes ‘—“bonkers”?’

  ‘Still up for debate. The brothers-in-law are leaning towards bonkers, but they’re not fazed either way. The kids’ ages range from two to seven. They’re so much fun. So cute and crazy.’ Oh, hell. The chopping stopped as he stared across the kitchen at Tamara. ‘I—we—are going to be adding to the Maguire brood. There’re going to be five grandkids for Mum to spoil.’

  Tamara stilled, a pair of kitchen tongs in one hand, some mushrooms in the other. ‘Is that all right?’ Caution laced her question.

  ‘It’s more than all right. It’s—It’s wonderful.’ It really was.

  As long as baby’s heart is fine.

  Conor shivered. Go away. Let me enjoy the moment.

  ‘It is going to be all right.’ Tamara stood in front of him, her hands on his upper arms. ‘We’re in this together.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘But tonight we’re going to share a meal, acknowledge we’re going to be parents and just take in the wonder of that. There’s plenty of time to worry about what might or might not happen.’ She shook him gently. ‘Okay?’

  ‘That’s how I want to play it, if only this pesky little voice in my head would leave me alone.’ He was getting to share parts of him he’d never told anyone about. Not a good sign for his independence.

  Tamara wagged a finger between them. ‘Pesky little voice, go annoy someone else. Tonight is ours. Not yours.’

  Laughter began deep in his belly and rolled up and out between them. What a tonic she was. If he had to have anyone onside if things went bad then Tamara was who he wanted, needed. ‘How do you like your steak?’

  * * *

  Tamara placed her empty dinner plate on the floor beside her chair and watched Conor as he finished his meal. Letting him kiss her had been wrong. Kissing him back worse. But there hadn’t been a stop-go man in her lounge,
flipping his sign back and forth. Just her and Conor. Tired, and temporarily at ease with each other, needing to keep the truce running for as long as possible, she had to ignore the flare of need that kiss had evoked. The need that refused to die down even though they’d stopped kissing ages ago.

  Why had Conor ended the kiss? His withdrawal had been gentle, but had left her depleted when everything sensible in her head—okay, not a lot—had shouted at her, Don’t do it! She had so much to lose. More than ever before. Yet her body had craved him, her mouth devoured his taste, her arms desperate to be wound around him, holding him. She’d made a baby with this man. Her body remembered every little detail, every spin of desire, every heightened sensation, the exquisite release of that night.

  She wanted it again. Needed to connect with him in a deep, intimate way that showed they had made a baby together, that this was real. That it wasn’t another lie thrown at her by people she’d trusted.

  Already she was beginning to believe, really believe deep inside that Conor meant every word he’d said so far about being there for her, not against her. Giving in too easily? Because she desperately wanted a man at her side to go through her pregnancy and the years to follow with? A man? Any man? No. Conor. If there was going to be someone at her side then Conor was the only man she’d consider. But they had hardly touched base on the issues ahead. That’s when her burgeoning belief in him might step back.

  ‘You’re awfully quiet over there,’ the man making her brain do somersaults said. ‘Should I be worrying about something?’ Conor looked so relaxed and at ease her own tension lightened somewhat.

  ‘No.’ Yes. He’d have a fit if he knew what she’d been thinking. ‘Just putting the day into perspective.’ Some of it, anyway. The tantalising part, the warm sizzle component of a long day fraught with landmines.

  Conor hauled himself out of the recliner. ‘I’m off home so you get some shut-eye.’

  ‘That’s probably best.’ Unfortunately. She followed him to the front door, her heart getting heavier with every step, lonelier with every breath.