The Slow Burn

by Caro Carson

  He hadn’t thought that was a jaw-dropping thing to say, but Tana gaped at him in silence.

  He turned them in another swooping 360.

  She closed her mouth. Wet her lips. “You, ah, you talk about pregnancy with your mother?”

  “Never. What kind of weird bachelor would that make me?”

  “But...but you said...”

  “I don’t talk about it, but my brother? He’s crazy in love with his wife. I’ve had to listen to him brag about how great his wife looks, what a goddess she is, every nauseating thing you can imagine, through two pregnancies now. That’s eighteen months of ‘glowing’ discussions. Also, eighteen months of me reminding him that I don’t want to hear all of my sister-in-law’s personal details.” Caden winked at Tana. “Like the amount of bras she has to purchase, or what they cost.”

  Tana smiled at his joke briefly, but she looked away, brow furrowed as she thought about something that wasn’t amusing to her at all.

  Who is bragging about how beautiful you are, Tana?

  Caden was afraid the answer would be nobody, if he could ask such a personal question.

  He couldn’t. This was a chance encounter, a casual night at the Tipsy Musketeer. He needed to keep it light and friendly, as anybody would with someone who was only an acquaintance.

  The song came to an end. Caden raised their joined hands so Tana could twirl under them and away, because that was the traditional way to end a country-western dance, not because he wanted to let go of her.

  The next song was a Christmas carol in three-quarter time. Another waltz.

  Standing apart, holding hands at arm’s distance, they looked at one another. Shall we? he intended to ask, but they stepped toward each other and resumed their hold without either one of them saying anything at all.

  He had more important questions. Why was she here alone? Where was her baby’s father? Why didn’t she know how good pregnancy was looking on her?

  Tana followed his lead smoothly, but she was lost in thought. Something about her struck him as fragile now, somehow. He felt entirely too protective of her once more—or still. The feeling hadn’t really left him since the moment she’d fainted.

  “Are you okay?”

  She focused on him. “Just worried. Between the glowing and my bra size, I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to keep this a secret.”

  “It’s still a secret?”

  Abruptly, she got all perky. “Yup. Wow, can you believe we’re dancing to Christmas music already? ‘Silver Bells,’ and it’s not even December yet. But Thanksgiving’s over. I guess I can’t really be outraged. It’s not like when Christmas decorations are for sale before Halloween.”

  “I thought the faculty all took off for the whole week to go home like the students. Why are you in town?” He was fishing for information, and he knew it.

  “This is the middle of swim season. The varsity teams have practice tomorrow.”

  “They don’t get a vacation? That’s some dedication.”

  “It is a lot to ask of kids, isn’t it? The swimmers have to really want it. That’s the commitment it takes to excel at this level.”

  “I take it your family is used to you missing Thanksgiving dinner with them.”

  “I went to Houston today. Ate the turkey.”

  Houston, where somebody lived who deserved to get the news face-to-face, she’d said in September. Caden turned them another 360 as he shoved the jealousy to the back of his mind. He’d kept the conversation light and friendly all evening. He could keep doing so until the end of this Christmas carol. How many verses to “Silver Bells” could there be?

  “Couldn’t he come back with you for the rest of the weekend? Is he a coach, too?”

  “Who?”

  “Your boyfriend. Fiancé. Husband?”

  She gave him a dark look. “I don’t need a husband, thanks.”

  She must have gotten in a fight with her man, then. Or maybe they’d had a fight a while ago. Had they broken up recently? Were they trying to make it work because they had a baby on the way?

  Something was making her unhappy. Caden had known that all evening, and whether he ought to or not, he cared, damn it.

  So, he did a 180.

  “Tana, I’ve got to ask. Where is the father of your baby?”

  Chapter Eight

  Now Caden wanted to know where the father was, too?

  A whopping four people in Tana’s life knew she was pregnant, five if she counted the doctor, and every single one was so damned concerned about the father.

  Jerry.

  Jerry didn’t deserve so much attention. He didn’t deserve any attention at all, since he’d so effortlessly decided not to be a father. Men could do that: I don’t feel like being a parent. See ya. Women were left to handle everything—and as they did, they were required to explain to everyone, every time, the reason they were alone.

  She was not up for this conversation. Not again. Not twice in the same day. But Caden had asked, so Tana forced herself to laugh. “I have no idea where he might be. Does it matter?”

  The song ended. She quit gladly, sliding her hand off Caden’s shoulder—but he kept his arm around her and pulled her closer, as if she’d merely stumbled again, and he moved them into the next song.

  It was a two-step, and she did stumble along for a few beats before she realized the rhythm had changed, quick-quick, slow, slow. The two-step was the most popular dance in every bar in Texas. It wasn’t as athletic as a waltz. The hold was similar, but without big, swooping turns, couples could get as close as they liked. Some women even rested their heads on their partner’s shoulders, like they were babies taking a nap, as they shuffled along, quick-quick, slow, slow.

  Caden held her only close enough to speak quietly, no more. “Of course, it matters.”

  “No, it really doesn’t.” She forced herself to laugh.

  The couple they passed looked at her. She’d sounded so unnatural, too loud, too shrill.

  She moved closer, so she could speak into his ear, which made them dance practically cheek to cheek, but she wasn’t whispering sweet nothings. She gritted out the truth through clenched teeth. “Everyone asks that as if he’s important, but he’s not. Nothing changes, no matter where he lives or what his name is. The DNA has been delivered, obviously. What does everyone think a man has left to do at this point? Hold my hand?”

  Caden was holding hers out to the side at the moment, and she was squeezing it, hard.

  She relaxed her grip. “Whether or not there’s a man out there to hold my hand is—it’s—irrelevant. I’ll have the baby, either way. The only thing that matters in this pregnancy is where I am.”

  Caden didn’t falter. His arm stayed securely around her as they two-stepped with the crowd. She was dancing backward, but she didn’t need to look over her shoulder. He was leading.

  Instead, she glared at his ear, at his unnecessarily strong, perfect jawline. It was so annoying that the man was still taller than she was, despite her boots’ heels.

  Her rant had killed the conversation, but it hurt to hear Caden asking the same thing her parents had. It wasn’t Tana’s fault that she didn’t know where the baby’s father was. It was Jerry’s fault. She shouldn’t have to pretend she had it all together, that she’d planned this pregnancy, that she was taking it all in stride, quick-quick, slow, slow.

  Caden was probably silent because, like most guys, he thought she was too much to handle, too driven, too bold. He would never go on a tirade like she just had. He was such a mellow guy. Friendly, always. A paramedic, a public servant, a caregiver—

  “What kind of son of a bitch abandons the woman who’s carrying his child?”

  Tana jerked in surprise. He’d put more fury into that single line than she had put into her entire speech. Her anger came from a place of hurt and
self-pity. Caden’s anger had power behind it.

  Power, strength—she’d had one hand resting on his shoulder for several songs now. His body heat had been warm under her palm, right through his shirt, as they danced. The muscle was rock hard, even when he was relaxed. If an angry Caden Sterling swung a fist, he’d deck his opponent.

  It was impossible to imagine him picking a fight. Tana’s first impression of him was too strong. He was kind to little old ladies. He was an encouraging, positive teacher. He’d used his hand to cushion her head from the floor, not to make a fist.

  They turned at the corner. The momentum let her slide her hand along his shoulder until her fingertips brushed the back of his neck. He was a very, very strong man. It seemed at odds with him being a caregiver.

  He’s a protector.

  The word resonated with her. Caden’s hand spanned her lower back. If he wanted to protect someone with that hand, he could. He would. He did—he was a fireman. When someone was in danger, he jumped in. The arms that were holding her now also wielded axes and hefted ladders. That, she could picture.

  Something fluttered, low in her belly.

  “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, gently, his voice low in her ear.

  She wasn’t that pitiful, was she? Her parents were disappointed in her for wasting her talent, and maybe Bob Nicholls was going to be disappointed, too, if he’d been hoping she’d make another run at the Olympics, but disappointment was different than pity. A pregnant woman with an ex who didn’t give a damn about her? That was pitiful.

  She tossed her hair back, but she kept her voice low, for Caden’s ears only. “What are you sorry for? For cursing at some man who doesn’t exist? I’m not an abandoned woman, carrying a man’s child for him, as you put it.”

  But she was.

  “I’m carrying my baby. For me.”

  Because she had no other choice.

  Her confidence was paper-thin. She was facing the biggest of life events. Fear and anxiety threatened to swamp her. She wished she could rest her head on Caden’s strong shoulder. Wouldn’t it be nice to just give up?

  She couldn’t let herself do that. The one time she’d let a man take care of everything for her, she’d ended up in a dry, landlocked country. She needed to keep her own head above water. Trust no one’s life preserver but her own.

  “It’s not like my situation is unique. Think about how many relationships go sour. People fall out of love all the time. There are a million single mothers out there who don’t get any support from the father.”

  “Then there are a million sons of bitches out there, too.” Caden sounded serious.

  Tana wished she could laugh, but her father had addressed shotgun weddings just hours ago. “What should those men do? Marry women they don’t care about? Should a woman be forced to marry him, if she doesn’t want him?”

  Caden gave her a don’t-be-ridiculous look. “Even if you’re no longer in love, you can still support the woman who’s having your baby.”

  “Money?” Tana had first misled Ruby about sperm donors so that Ruby wouldn’t push her to take Jerry to court for child support. “I’m the head coach at a university. I make enough money to support myself, and I can support a child, too. I don’t need a man’s money.”

  Not this year, but I have to prove myself this season, or else.

  “There are other kinds of support.” Caden stated it with finality, then he started to let go of her, his large, warm hand sliding off her back.

  The song had ended. Tana held on to his shoulder more tightly, so he couldn’t back up. “Wait. I want to hear this.”

  Caden sighed, but his hand returned to span her lower back, and they resumed their two-step to the new song. He kept a little more space between them, so they were looking at one another, not speaking urgently into each other’s ears. “What do you want to hear, exactly?”

  “I want to hear what kind of support you think a woman needs from a man, when he doesn’t love her and she doesn’t need his money.”

  He shrugged. “There’s no set answer to that. Too many things factor in.”

  “Hypothetically, then. Let’s say you knocked up some woman you don’t really like. If she doesn’t need or want your money, what else is there for you to do?”

  “That’s not ever going to happen.”

  Tana wanted to shake him in frustration. She didn’t know why it felt so imperative, but she needed to know the answer. “No birth control method is one hundred percent effective. It could happen.”

  He seemed frustrated with her, too. “I meant I don’t have sex with women I ‘don’t really like.’ It wouldn’t happen like that.”

  “But you said—”

  “I thought we were talking about people who’d once been in love, but the romance went sour?”

  “Fine. You dated for a year, then, so you must have liked each other. You even said ‘I love you.’ Now there’s a positive pregnancy test, and you find out she’d been planning on leaving you before the pregnancy happened.”

  “Then I’m pretty damned sad.” He squinted a bit as he studied her. “Do I have a broken heart?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Of course, it does.”

  He was being difficult. He probably knew there wasn’t anything an ex-girlfriend could possibly need from him, just like Tana didn’t need anything from Jerry.

  “All right, then,” she said. “You are not brokenhearted, because you’ve realized you weren’t truly in love with her, either. This isn’t about feelings, anyway. The clock is ticking. Nine months are going by fast. What kind of support is there for you to give this woman who never loved you, and you never loved?”

  “I’m not her enemy, just so we’re clear on that. We’re not in love, but we’re not enemies. We’re going to be parents together, like it or not. We got along for a year. We’ll find a way to keep getting along.”

  Tana imagined saying that to Jerry. Look, you and I might never have been truly in love, but we got along for over a year, and now we’re going to be parents. We shouldn’t be enemies.

  She’d have to know where he was to say anything to him.

  He’d cut her out of his life completely. He’d never sent her an address. She wasn’t an ex-girlfriend to him; she was being treated like she didn’t exist. Some of her guilt over misleading Ruby and her parents dissipated. What else could she do except pretend he didn’t exist, either?

  Apparently, Caden wouldn’t cut off his hypothetical ex-girlfriend like that. “I want to give her whatever she needs so that we have a healthy baby.”

  “Like what? Be specific.”

  He shook his head, just an inch, at whatever he was thinking, then he pulled her a little closer. “We don’t have to be lovers for me to give her a ride to her next checkup at the doctor’s.”

  “She can’t drive herself to the doctor’s?”

  He had danced them over to the edge of the floor when the conversation had taken its serious turn. They were marking time in place, out of the flow of dancers, so he didn’t need to watch where they were going. He watched her instead.

  She couldn’t look away. His eyes weren’t an icy blue. They were a warm blue, like a tropical sea, the loveliest water for a lazy swim.

  “I would ask her, ‘Do you need help assembling the crib?’”

  His words shouldn’t give her butterflies in her stomach. She wasn’t a schoolgirl. He wasn’t her hero. The way he’d asked that, though... She could imagine what it would feel like if he’d said it to her for real. It made her feel a little weak at the knees.

  Weakness wasn’t good in her situation. “She ought to be able to read instructions and operate a screwdriver. You wouldn’t have dated a dummy, right?”

  He didn’t answer that, but the corners of his eyes crinkled a little in amusement. “Thanksgiving’s over. Why don’t I come
over and get the Christmas tree down from the attic for you? Pregnancy klutziness is as real as that pregnancy glow. Anything else you need me to go up the ladder for?”

  She blinked. She had an apartment. No attic—but it didn’t matter, because he hadn’t really asked her that. This was about a hypothetical woman. “She’s got neighbors who can do that.”

  He didn’t take his eyes off her. “I’ll take the day off work for the sonogram. No neighbors allowed. It’s a big day for both of us. We’ll find out the baby’s gender.”

  “No. Let it stay a surprise. It will give me something to look forward to during labor.”

  “Fair enough. Lady’s choice.” That little crinkling at his eyes looked good on him.

  They were swaying now, like a couple of kids at a middle school dance. Her heart was beating harder than it had while they’d waltzed.

  “I’ll pick you up and drive you there,” he said, “while you drink the ridiculous amount of liquid they require.”

  “They do?”

  “’Fraid so. Abigail said they made her have such a full bladder, she could barely walk, let alone drive.”

  Tana’s heart thudded. “Abigail?”

  “My sister-in-law. The one whose pregnancies I know way too much about, remember?”

  Tana nodded, but she had to look away from those blue eyes for a moment. This had been a terrible idea. Caden was showing her, too easily, the kinds of support she would not get, because Jerry was a terrible ex-boyfriend. Caden would have been a wonderful ex-boyfriend.

  Had any woman actually broken up with this guy? If he was so thoughtful about ways to help out as an ex-boyfriend, she could hardly imagine what kind of boyfriend he’d be.

  Let’s not imagine that.

  “Let’s dance,” Caden said, and the gentleness in his voice was a dead giveaway. He could tell she was sad. He was stopping their hypothetical conversation for her sake.

  They two-stepped into the flow of dancers in silence. Tana had nothing to be sad about. Caden had done exactly what she’d hoped he would do. He’d proven to her that she was not missing out on anything by choosing to be a single mom. Jerry would never have done any of the things Caden had suggested. Jerry would never have thought of doing them in the first place. Therefore, although Jerry had cut her out of his life, it was no loss for her.