Beach Bar Baby

by Heidi Rice

He knew she’d wanted him to tell people before she met them. If she found out they’d guessed about her condition, she’d be hurt—and that had never been his intention.

  ‘Of course I haven’t. It’s not something you can bring up in a conversation with someone you’ve only met twice.’ Josie tugged her arm out of his grasp. ‘But damn, Coop, why the hell didn’t you say something? If the baby’s yours? Why keep it a secret? And why keep Ella’s being here a secret too?’

  ‘Because...’ His mind snagged—because he’d wanted to keep things as light and non-committal as possible. Because dealing with the baby had felt like enough already. But even as the excuses sprang into his head they sounded like just that. Excuses. ‘Because it’s complicated,’ he managed at last.

  ‘Why is it complicated?’

  ‘Because she lives in London,’ he said, reciting the reasons he’d been giving himself for weeks, but didn’t seem to fit any more. ‘She’s only here for a couple of weeks and it was an accident. And we hardly know each other.’ Although that too didn’t seem true any more.

  He did know Ella: he knew how much he liked to wake up and spoon with her in the morning. How much he’d come to depend on her smile, that sunny, optimistic outlook that was so unlike his own. How addicted he’d become to her company, her enthusiasm, her bright, lively chatter about anything and everything. ‘She’s going to have the baby...’ he paused, then soldiered on ‘...because we both want it.’

  The admission might have surprised him, but for the rush of emotion as he recalled feeling those flutters against his palm the night before, when Ella had been snuggled against him. And seeing that tiny body on the sonogram five days ago, as the doctor had counted all his son’s fingers and toes.

  How had that happened? Somehow, in the last few weeks, the thing that had terrified him the most didn’t terrify him any more; it excited him. He actually wanted to be a dad. But more than that, he wanted to be with Ella in a few months’ time, when her body became round and heavy as it cradled their baby.

  Damn, was that the reason he didn’t want her to leave? It seemed so obvious now he thought about it. No wonder he got edgy every time she mentioned going back to the UK. He wanted her to have the baby, his baby, here in Bermuda. He knew he could do this thing now, and he didn’t want to miss a moment of it.

  ‘We’re trying to work stuff out,’ he said, seeing Josie’s eyes go round with astonishment at his declaration. ‘And we don’t need anyone butting into our business while we’re doing it.’

  ‘Okay, I get that.’ Josie nodded, surprising him. ‘But I still don’t see why it’s that complicated, if you both want to have this baby.’

  ‘Coop!’ They both turned to see Rhona, Josie’s mom, descending on them.

  ‘Hi, Mom,’ Josie answered.

  Rhona fanned herself with the hat she’d been wearing during the ceremony. ‘Coop, honey, I thought I should tell you, Ella went off home.’

  ‘What? Why?’ The low-level feeling of panic that had been bugging him for days resurfaced in a rush. ‘Is she okay?’

  ‘I think she’s just tired.’ Rhona sent him a sharp look. ‘Now, don’t take this the wrong way, honey, but is that girl expecting?’

  Oh, hell.

  ‘I’ve got to go, Rhona,’ he said, ignoring Josie’s muffled snort of laughter and Rhona’s question before he got bombarded with a million more. He’d have a lot of explaining to do next time he saw them, but that could wait.

  Bidding both women a hasty goodbye, he rushed out of the bar, and broke into a run as soon as he hit the beach.

  He needed to get home, and tell Ella she didn’t have to go home, that he wanted her to stay—for the baby’s sake. She’d be sure to welcome the news, because she always put the baby first, and having two parents had to be better than having just one.

  As he jogged up the beach steps to the house he saw the light in the bedroom window and grinned.

  I love it when a plan comes together.

  She was still awake. He’d tell her about his plans for their future and then they could finish what he’d been trying to start before the wedding.

  ‘Hey, Ella,’ he shouted up the stairs as he heard the whizz-bang of the fireworks Sonny had organised to finish the celebrations on the beach. Glancing over his shoulder, he caught the dazzle of light and colour as a shower of golden rain cascaded into the night sky. ‘You missed the fireworks—how about we watch the display from the terrace?’ He bounded up the stairs, then strode down the corridor. ‘I’ve got something I have to tell you.’

  But then he pushed the door open and spotted Ella, her arms full of silk panties, and her neatly packed suitcase laid open on the bed.

  His grin flatlined as all the adrenaline that had been pumping round his system during his jog home slammed full force into his chest.

  ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

  TWELVE

  Ella whipped round at the surly shout, her heart jumping into her throat at the sight of Cooper, looking gorgeous and annoyed, standing in the doorway, his face cast in bold relief by the coloured lights bursting in the sky outside.

  She folded her underwear into the suitcase, flipped the lid closed and took several deep breaths to slow her galloping heartbeat. ‘I’m packing,’ she said. ‘I’ve booked myself on the night flight to London. It leaves at eleven.’

  ‘What the...?’ The expletive echoed round the room as he slammed the door shut. ‘When exactly were you planning to tell me this? Or weren’t you planning to tell me? Is that why you ran off early from the wedding?’

  She stiffened, stunned by the anger, and the accusation. ‘No, of course not. I planned to tell you when you got back. It’s just...’ She chewed on her lip, determined not to fold again under the pressure of her own insecurities. She’d let him dictate the terms of this relationship—or non-relationship—right from the start. But it was only as she’d had to stand by his side and listen to his friend recite her vows, while enduring the speculative looks of all his friends, that she’d begun to realise how little she’d been prepared to settle for. Because she had lacked the courage to demand more.

  ‘I think we need some space,’ she continued. ‘There’s something I have to tell you and—’

  ‘Yeah, well, I’ve got something to tell you.’ He cut in before she could get the words out she’d been psyching herself up to say all evening. ‘I want you to stay, to move in with me.’

  ‘What?’ She sat down on the bed, her legs going boneless as her insides tumbled with an odd combination of hope and astonishment at the unexpected offer. ‘You want me to stay? Seriously?’

  She hadn’t been wrong: there had been something developing between them, and he’d seen it too. Of course, she couldn’t just abandon her life in London, but that he would even suggest such a thing had to be a very good sign that his feelings had deepened too.

  He took her arm, drew her up. Touching his forehead to hers, he settled his hand on her neck, to stroke the flutter of her pulse. ‘Of course. You’re having my kid. I want to be there for you both, not thousands of miles away.’

  It took a moment for her to hear the words past the delighted buzz of anticipation. ‘But that’s...’ She struggled to clarify, to make sure she’d understood. ‘You only want me to stay because of the baby?’

  His lips quirked, his brow wrinkling in a puzzled frown. ‘Yeah, of course, what else is there?’

  There’s me. I need you to want me too.

  She stepped out of his arms, the blow both shattering and painfully ironic. When she’d first arrived in Bermuda, hearing him say those words would have felt like a miracle. But now they felt desperately bittersweet. How could she accept his offer, when she wanted so much more?

  She looked into those jade-green eyes that she had come to adore, but held so many secrets, and said
the only words she could. ‘I can’t stay, Coop. It’s not—’

  ‘Why not? Is it because of your business? I get that...’ He touched her waist, trying to reassure her, but only making her heart shatter a little more. ‘We can work out the logistics. I’ll need to be in Bermuda for the summer season, but otherwise I can come to London. I’ve got money, whatever we need to do to make this work—’

  ‘That isn’t it...’ She placed her hand on his cheek, loving him even more if that were possible. He was a generous man, who wanted to do the right thing for his child.

  ‘Then what is it?’ he asked.

  ‘This isn’t about the baby. It’s about me, and you.’

  ‘What?’

  She swallowed, knowing she needed to tell him, and hoping against hope that he wouldn’t freak out when she did. ‘I think I’m falling in love with you.’

  He dropped his head back to hers, let out a rush of breath and then, to her total astonishment, he chuckled, the sound deep, and amused and self-satisfied. ‘Damn, is that all?’

  She stepped back. ‘It’s not funny. I’m serious.’

  He shrugged, his lips tipping in that seductive smile that she had once found so endearing. ‘I know you are—so what? That’s good, isn’t it? If you love me you’ve got to stay, right?’

  ‘Not if I don’t know how you feel about me?’ she heard herself say, the question in her voice making her feel needy and pathetic.

  ‘Don’t be dumb. It’s obvious how I feel about you. I like having you around.’ He held her waist, tugged her back into his arms. ‘I’ve invited you to move in, haven’t I? At least until the kid’s born.’

  She braced her hands on his chest, hearing the qualification. ‘But that’s not enough.’

  His brow furrowed. ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I need more than that. You’re asking me to make a major change in my life, to move thousands of miles away from everything I know on what sounds like a whim.’ The emotion clogged in her throat at the look of total confusion on his face.

  ‘What do you want me to say? That I love you? Is that it?’ The bitter edge in his tone made the traitorous tears she’d refused to shed sting her eyes. ‘If you need me to say the words I will.’

  ‘This isn’t about words.’ She drew back. ‘It’s about emotions. It’s about you being honest with me about your feelings.’

  * * *

  Coop stared at Ella’s earnest expression, saw the glitter of tears in those trusting blue eyes and felt the panic that he had kept at bay ever since his mother’s death start to choke him.

  He didn’t do emotion, he didn’t even talk about it, because it reminded him too much of the deep, dark, inescapable hole where he’d spent most of his childhood.

  ‘You don’t know what you’re asking,’ he said, desperately bartering for time, scrambling around for a way to avoid the conversation. ‘I’m not good at that stuff.’

  ‘I know that, Coop.’ She sighed, the sound weary and so full of despair it cut right through his heart. ‘And I understand. I took a huge knock to my confidence too when Randall rejected me. If I hadn’t, it wouldn’t have taken me so long to tell you all this. But you have to understand. I can’t come and live with you, bring up a child with you and all the time live in some kind of weird limbo where you get to call all the shots because—’ she lifted her fingers to do air quotes ‘—you’re “not good at this stuff”.’ She stood up, brushed her hands down her dress in a nervous gesture he recognised. ‘I need to call a cab.’

  She turned to pick up her case from the bed. He dived ahead of her, gripped the handle. ‘You don’t need a cab. You’re not going tonight.’

  She blinked, the sheen of tears crucifying him. ‘Yes, I am. I have to go. I’m tired and we both need space, maybe once—’

  ‘Don’t go.’ His voice cracked on the word. ‘It’s not that I don’t want to talk about it, it’s that I can’t.’

  ‘Why can’t you?’ she asked, the tone gentle but probing, scraping at the raw wound he’d thought had healed years before.

  ‘Because I’ll mess it up. Because I’ll say the wrong thing, or I’ll say it in the wrong way. They’re just words—they don’t mean anything. What matters is what we do, not what we say to each other.’

  She nodded, but he could see the concern in her gaze, and felt as if she was looking through the veneer of charm and confidence and seeing the frightened little boy cowering beneath. ‘Coop, whatever made you think that there’s a wrong and a right answer?’

  She laid a palm on his cheek, but he jerked back. Terrified of being drawn into that dark place again.

  ‘You say that, but there is a right answer. If there wasn’t I wouldn’t have given her the wrong one. I told her I loved her, that I could look after her, but it didn’t change a thing.’

  She watched him, her unwavering gaze so full of the love he knew he wasn’t capable of giving back, all the panic imploded inside him until all that was left was the pain.

  ‘Who are you talking about, Coop?’

  His heart hammered his ribs as he dropped his chin, fisted his fingers to stop them shaking and murmured, ‘My mom.’

  * * *

  Ella stared, unable to speak around the lump wedged in her throat. She could see the painful shadow of memory in his expression, and wished she could take it away. Reaching for his hand, she folded her fingers around his and held on. ‘Can you tell me about her?’

  He cleared his throat, but he didn’t pull his hand out of hers. ‘There’s not a lot to tell. She had an affair with my old man, he gave her the standard line about leaving his wife. And she got pregnant with me, before she figured out he was lying.’

  ‘He sounds like a very selfish person,’ Ella said, then remembered how he’d once compared himself to his father. ‘And nothing like you.’

  ‘Thanks.’ He sent her a half-smile, but it did nothing to dispel the shadow in his eyes. ‘Anyway, he wasn’t interested in me, but he carried on screwing my mom from time to time, so she convinced herself he loved her.’ He shrugged, but the movement was stiff and tense, and she knew he was nowhere near as relaxed as the gesture suggested.

  She pressed her hand to his chest, desperate to soothe the frantic beats of his heart. ‘You don’t have to tell me any more, if it upsets you. I understand.’ His mother had obviously fallen in love with a man who had used her and carried on using her. Was it any wonder that after witnessing that throughout the years of his childhood, he’d be cynical about love himself? And wary about making any kind of commitment. ‘I shouldn’t have pushed you. It wasn’t fair.’

  ‘Yeah, you should have.’ He covered her hand. ‘And I don’t think you do get it, Ella.’ He sighed. ‘The thing is, she was so fragile. She wanted something she couldn’t have and she had these dark moods because she couldn’t cope with that. At first, when I was really little, she’d have the odd day when she couldn’t get out of bed, and she’d just cry and want to hug me. But as I got older, it got worse and worse, until she couldn’t hold down a job. I tried to make things better for her. As soon as I was old enough, I got a job. I figured if I could make enough money...’ He stared into the darkness, the hopelessness on his face devastating. ‘But I couldn’t. Whatever I did, whatever I said, it was never the right thing.’

  ‘Coop,’ she murmured, desperate to try and take the hopelessness away. ‘It sounds as if she suffered from depression. Money can’t cure that.’ Or a child’s devotion.

  ‘I know, but...’

  She leant into him, the love welling up her chest as he looped his arm round her shoulders. ‘What happened to her?’

  She heard him swallow, the sound loud in the stillness of the night. ‘I came home from the graveyard shift at the drive-thru one night and found her in the bathroom. She’d taken too many of the pills she used to sleep. I called the p
aramedics, but it was too late.’

  Ella pulled back, the tears soaking her lashes. ‘I’m so sorry that you found her like that.’ And that he’d had such a bleak childhood. No wonder he’d been so determined to protect himself—he’d suffered so much, at such a young age. ‘But surely you must see that you weren’t to blame. Whatever you said or didn’t say, it wouldn’t have made a difference.’

  ‘Hey, don’t cry.’ He scooped the tear off her lashes. ‘And I guess you’re right. But that’s not the reason I didn’t want to tell you about her.’

  She swallowed down the tears. ‘So what is?’

  ‘I didn’t want you to know what a coward I am.’

  ‘A coward?’ She didn’t understand: he’d done his best; he’d stuck by his mother and tried so hard to make her life easier, better. ‘How can you say that when you did everything you could for her?’

  ‘Maybe I did. But I’m not talking about her. I’m talking about us.’ His lips tipped up in a wry smile. ‘The thing is, even though I loved my mom, and I was sad when she died...’ he gave his head a small shake ‘...you know what I felt most when I stood by her graveside?’

  She shook her head, confused now. What was he trying to tell her?

  ‘Relief.’ The word came out on a huff of breath. ‘I was so damn glad I didn’t have to be responsible for her any more.’ He cupped her cheek, brushing the tears off her lashes. ‘For years after her death, I used to have this recurring nightmare that I was standing by her grave and her hand would come out and drag me in with her. Because that’s what it felt like when I was growing up, being trapped in this big dark hole that I could never get out of. So I ran and I kept on running. Once I landed here, I devoted myself to making money, until I had enough to make the nightmares go away. But I never realised until this moment that in a lot of ways I never stopped running.’ His hand stroked down to rest on her stomach.

  ‘I’m sorry that I didn’t tell everyone about you, and the baby. And that I’m not good with stuff like this. But if you’ll just give me another chance, I’ll try not to be such a damn coward again. Because I don’t want to keep running any more.’