His Texas Christmas Bride (Celebrations, Inc 9)

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His Texas Christmas Bride (Celebrations, Inc 9) Page 5

by Nancy Robards Thompson


  The bald reality rolled around inside his gut, cold and heavy like a large ball bearing. To make it stop, he pushed up off the sofa bed and made short order of putting the couch back together, tossing the cushions into place. The chore had become a routine because if he didn’t put away his bed, it dominated the living space in the tiny efficiency apartment that sat above George and Mary Jane Hewitt’s garage. He’d rented the place on a month-to-month basis, figuring he’d find something more permanent once he got settled in his job and got to know the area. Since the place came fully furnished, he’d had the movers unload everything he owned, except his clothes, into a storage shed.

  He didn’t spend much time at home, and as the modest apartment came with everything he needed, he really hadn’t missed the stuff that was stashed in those boxes. The Hewitts’ granddaughter was coming to live with them in January. So they wouldn’t offer more than a sixty-day lease. By that time, Nick figured he’d be settled in at the hospital and have a better read on the town. He’d even planned on looking up Becca.

  It didn’t make any sense to unpack only to pack it all up again when he moved again after the first of the year. It felt good and light and free to not be weighed down by worldly possessions, even if temporarily.

  But he hadn’t counted on the news that Becca was carrying his child.

  He was going to be a father.

  Maybe if he repeated the words to himself enough it would start to sink in. Yeah. No, that hadn’t happened yet.

  As Nick made his way into the tiny kitchenette, he uttered a silent oath that was utterly unfatherly. He braced his arms on the edge of the slip of kitchen counter, where the coffeemaker and toaster lived. He knocked his head against the cabinet in front of him for not being more careful.

  But he had been careful. They’d used protection. Short of being celibate, how much more careful could he be?

  The only thing that was crystal clear now was, with Nick as its father, this poor kid was screwed. Nick wasn’t cut out to be a dad or a family man. The most devastating part of the equation was that this child hadn’t asked for this, hadn’t selected him. He or she—God, this was a person, a living, breathing human being whom he could screw up—deserved so much more than such a poor excuse for a father.

  But like it or not, this child would arrive in about six months. There was no changing that. He squeezed his eyes together and raked both hands through his hair, which was still sleep mussed. Then he grabbed his phone and called Becca.

  The phone rang three times, and he thought it might go to voice mail, but she answered.

  “Hi, it’s Nick.”

  There was a beat of silence, and for a moment he wondered if the call had dropped. He was just pulling the phone away from his ear to look at the screen when he heard her.

  “Hi, Nick.” Her voice sounded neutral, almost businesslike. Of course, she was probably at work. And nearly four hours had passed since she’d texted him this morning.

  “I just picked up your text.”

  “Okay.”

  She wasn’t going to make this easy on him, was she? Well, why should she?

  Okay, so he had some smoothing over to do to convince her he wasn’t a first-class creep. But he still felt justified asking for proof positive. He hoped Becca would understand that the test results were the first step in moving forward.

  “We have a lot to talk about,” he said.

  “Do we, Nick?”

  Her tone wasn’t hostile, just calm, eerily calm, a matter-of-fact answer to his feeble attempts to meet her halfway.

  “I would ask you to have dinner tonight, but I have to work at seven. Would you have time to meet for coffee after you get off work?”

  “Meet me in Central Park in downtown Celebration at five o’clock.”

  He released a slow, controlled breath, both relieved and surprised that she’d agreed to see him. But she had, and that was the first step. They’d take it from there.

  “I’ll see you then.”

  “Nick,” she said. “I don’t expect you to marry me. So, don’t worry.”

  What was he supposed to say to that? It was one of those damned if you do, damned if you don’t situations, and he wasn’t going there. This impassive front she was projecting was probably just a defense to gain control over a situation that felt way out of control. He felt out of control, too.

  Becca had just told him he was off the hook. She’d just handed him a free pass. If he knew what was good for him, he’d take it and run. But he couldn’t. And that made him feel so out of control it was as if his world was spinning, and all he could do was hang on or risk being flung off into parts unknown.

  Actually, maybe that had already happened. Maybe this weird alternate universe was where he’d landed.

  “I’ll see you at five.”

  * * *

  He arrived at the park a little early. He left his motorcycle in a parking space along the street and sat on a bench, looking at the fall decorations adorning the gazebo. Kids played in the park, running and laughing and chasing each other, as he sat there trying to gather his thoughts before Becca arrived.

  Her words I don’t expect you to marry me rattled in his brain. If Becca Flannigan was one thing, it was sincere. If she said it, she meant it. Nick knew he should’ve been relieved, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was feeling—

  Until he saw her walking across the grass toward him in her red coat and boots. Something pinged in his gut. Awareness flooded his senses, and his body tightened in response.

  An image of the night they were together played through his mind. A guy like him would be wise to ignore feelings like this. He shouldn’t lead her on and make her think he was promising things he couldn’t deliver. Becca and the baby deserved better than anything he had to offer. He had a history of tearing things apart, of ruining anything good that had ever come into his life.

  She deserved to be married to the father of her child, if she wanted to be. Deserved to have a traditional family, a traditional life. The house with the white picket fence with dogs and cats in the yard, if that’s what she wanted.

  He didn’t know for sure, because he didn’t know her at all. Even if every cell in his body tried to convince him otherwise. As he stood to greet her, he shook off the unbidden memory of their night together—holding her, kissing her, making love to her. He had to man up and knock it off.

  She offered a shy smile as she approached.

  He had to fight the urge to hug her. He mentally scoffed. What the hell was wrong with him? He wasn’t a hugger. He had to do something to lighten the mood and preempt the awkwardness.

  “Go ahead and say it.”

  She squinted at him as she fidgeted with the scarf that hung around her neck. “Say what?”

  “You can say I told you so. Twice if you want.”

  She nodded solemnly. “I thought about it, actually.”

  She shrugged and looked away.

  Maybe he shouldn’t have tried to make a joke out of it. He was only trying to lighten the mood. A group of six preschool-aged kids ran ahead of their mothers, landing and tumbling in the grassy area directly in front of Nick and Becca.

  Their mothers stopped at another bench about ten yards away and waved to Becca. She waved back. The three huddled for a moment, talking, then in unison they looked back at Nick and Becca. Then huddled up again.

  “Friends of yours?” Nick asked.

  “Acquaintances,” she said. “I don’t usually hang with the playgroup set. I guess that will change soon.”

  One of the kids, a little girl with white-blond curls, let loose an earsplitting shriek, and two of her friends followed suit before they started chasing each other and shrieking even louder as they ran.

  “Oh. Uh. Do you feel like walking?” he asked.


  “Sure.” Becca cast another glance at the three women and waved goodbye.

  When they were safely out of earshot, Becca said, “This is so uncomfortable. So, I’m just going to say it and get it out into the open. I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do, Nick. Neither of us planned this. And I know I’ve had more time than you to sit with this and come to terms with it, but I have to say, I’m happy now. I can’t say I always was, but that night I was in the emergency room, I was so afraid I might lose the baby that it all suddenly became crystal clear. I want this child. I hope you’ll be part of its life. I firmly believe a child, whether it’s a boy or a girl, needs a father figure.”

  “Me? A father figure?” He shook his head. “Way out of my league. I would probably scar the poor kid for life. Maybe your dad or brother, if you have one, can be the father figure.”

  He meant it as a joke, something to lighten the mood. But she didn’t laugh. She didn’t even smile.

  “Disregard that. It came out sounding wrong. I was trying to be funny, but I should know better.”

  “Just so you know, my parents don’t know about the baby yet. Not many people do. Only you, Kate and maybe her husband, who also works at the hospital. But you don’t have to worry about him saying anything to anyone.”

  “Who is he?” Nick asked.

  “Liam Thayer. He’s in charge of the hospital’s pediatric unit.”

  “I haven’t met him yet. But then again, I’m in my own little world in the ER unless a specialist consults. But Celebration isn’t a very big town. Aren’t you afraid, even if a couple of people know, word might get out before you tell your parents?”

  “I trust Kate and Liam.” She shrugged. “Telling my folks is easier said than done.”

  “You’re a grown woman. What are you afraid of? It’s your body and your life. Do you really care about what they think?”

  “They’re my parents, Nick. Of course I care.”

  “Sorry. That’s a perfect example of just how bad I am at family relations.”

  “You’re not close to your family?”

  The question hit him like a punch to the gut. “No. I’m not.”

  “How come?”

  He shook his head. “That doesn’t really matter. Not right now, anyway. What is important is that you know that I will take responsibility for our child. I can’t promise that I’ll be a great father, but I will provide financially. I’m going to do what’s right. You and the child will never want for a thing.”

  She stared at him with disappointed eyes.

  “I don’t understand why you’re so sure you’d be a bad father.”

  “Once you get to know me, you’ll understand.”

  She looked at him dubiously.

  “For some reason I don’t believe you. But you do bring up a good point. We need to get to know each other better.”

  One thing he was beginning to realize about Becca Flannigan was that she seemed to think the best of people. She saw the silver lining, when he tended to be too jaded to even see the clouds. He wasn’t necessarily a pessimist. More of a realist.

  But what could it hurt to get to know her better? After all, she was the mother of his child.

  “That’s a good idea. Since I’m just getting to know you and the town, maybe you can show me something that’s typical of Celebration, Texas?”

  He might’ve been imagining it, but he could’ve sworn he saw a half ton of tension lift from her shoulders. Those blue eyes of hers that could hypnotize him if he wasn’t careful seemed to have regained some of their sparkle.

  “I know you have to go to work. But I’ll think of the most quintessential Celebration thing I can and let you know. But first, I have an appointment with my OB doctor tomorrow in Dallas. Will you go with me?”

  His first thought was to say no, to back off—way off. But why should she have to go this alone? Especially after he’d just promised her that he would do what was right?

  “Sure, let me know what time.”

  “Thank you. I’m so glad you’re coming.”

  Before he knew what had hit him, she’d turned to him and hugged him. For a moment he didn’t want to let her go.

  Chapter Four

  The next day, Becca glanced around her obstetrician’s office at all the happy pregnant couples who were in for appointments. There was a man and woman who were heartbreakingly tender toward each other. The husband—Becca guessed they were married because they wore matching wedding rings—sat with his arm protectively around his wife, gently stroking her shoulder.

  If Becca had to wager, she’d bet that this was their first child, because they were young and seemed so much in love.

  Another couple had brought their four kids with them. The little ones were playing in the children’s area in the far corner of the office. Their father was sitting with them quietly keeping them in line.

  As she glanced at Nick, who was sitting next to her reading a newspaper, she was torn. On one hand, she was happy he had agreed to come for the sonogram, but on the other, she felt like a fraud sitting there as if they were a couple who had conceived a baby as a by-product of their love. It shouldn’t really matter. Nick was there, wasn’t he?

  He caught her staring, and he smiled at her, his eyes lingering on hers before they dropped down to her lips and then found their way back to his newspaper. She wasn’t trying to fool anyone. They were here together because they were having a baby. Their relationship was nobody’s business but their own.

  Becca glanced around the waiting area at the posters adorning the walls—some featured tips on women’s nutrition, there was a public service announcement that reminded women over thirty-five to get mammograms, and there was a watch-your-baby-grow poster addressing prenatal development and care.

  Becca eyed the rendering of the three-month-old fetus. The poster said at this stage, her baby was about three inches long and had fingerprints.

  Hmm. Only three inches? How could something so tiny make her feel so big already?

  Becca’s attention was momentarily shanghaied by a young woman who had just entered the office. She looked to be in her late teens or maybe early twenties, and she was very pregnant. She looked as if she might go into labor any moment. Becca noticed she wasn’t wearing a ring on her left hand.

  It shouldn’t matter, but lately every time she saw a pregnant woman, she found herself looking at her left ring finger and sorting her into two categories: married and single.

  She knew it was none of her business, and, yes, if she knew somebody was sorting her into categories, she probably wouldn’t like it. But she wasn’t judging. She just wanted proof that she wasn’t the only one going this road alone.

  Well, given the fact that Nick was here with her today, she wasn’t exactly alone. But as much as the little voice inside of her wished it were different, they weren’t a couple, either. They were certainly far from married.

  After the young woman signed in, she turned and walked in Becca’s direction. Her young face looked pale and drawn, as if she were exhausted down to her bones or maybe just plain weary. She was tall and waif thin, except for the basketball-sized baby bump protruding off her middle, which was visible only from the front and side. From the back, you couldn’t even tell she was pregnant. She took a seat somewhere behind Becca, and if she wanted to continue watching her she’d have to turn around or relocate.

  It was probably a good thing that she sat behind her, because Becca didn’t want to stare. It was just that when she discovered a woman in the same situation she was, she felt an automatic need to bond with her—even if it was only with a smile of solidarity or an empathetic nod.

  But this one had looked away as she had passed. Refusing to make eye contact. Probably because Becca had a man with her. As if on cue, Nick shifted his weight
as he rested his elbow on the chair’s armrest. His upper arm pressed against Becca’s. The feel of his body pressed against hers caused heat to prickle a little on the back of her neck.

  When he didn’t immediately shift away, she gazed up at him, and he gave her a lopsided grin. The look in his eyes made her a little weak and melty on the inside, but she did her best to play it cool.

  “Do you like football?” she asked.

  He put down his newspaper and slanted her a glance, but his shoulder stayed right next to hers.

  “I do.”

  She liked the warmth of his arm on hers. It made her think about how their bodies had felt skin to skin, and a little frisson shivered its way through her.

  “I was thinking about how you wanted me to show you something typically Celebration. Maybe we could go to the football game Friday night. That is, if you’re free. I know it’s a weekend, and you might have to work or you might have plans.”

  She wondered if he was dating. Was there anyone else in his life?

  Of course that’s when the nurse chose to open the door and call them back into the exam room.

  “Think about it,” she said. “But no rush. You can let me know tomorrow.”

  * * *

  Even though Nick was a doctor, he still felt a little out of place in the obstetrician’s office. He wasn’t sure what Becca had told them about him—the baby’s father—the last time she’d been in for a checkup, but when she introduced him, the staff didn’t seem to bat an eye.

  Either it was commonplace for some fathers to not be involved, or the staff was very professional.

  That helped him breathe easier. She shouldn’t have to go this alone. Even if he wasn’t much help. Maybe having someone there for support was something. Especially since she hadn’t yet told her family. He, of all people, knew that sometimes family could be a bigger hindrance than help. Even though she hadn’t said much, it sounded as if she and her folks had their challenges. That surprised him because Becca seemed warm and together, but maybe her family was as dysfunctional as his.

 

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