by Karen Booth
“I’ll call you if we need anything, but otherwise, I need to do this on my own. I’m sorry to bail on you.”
The concern was so plain on Chris’s face it nearly broke Michael’s heart. “Don’t be silly. Abby and I will be fine. But are you really going to go dressed like that?”
Michael looked down at himself. He’d completely forgotten that he was wearing shorts and a sweatshirt. “Yeah. It’s fine. I don’t want to take the time to change.”
“And it’s snowing, you know.”
The text from Fran came through with the hospital address. It was only a few blocks away. “Yeah. It’s fine. I think I’m going to run. I’ll get there faster than driving.”
“You’re certifiable, bro.”
“I love her, Chris. There’s nothing else for me to do.”
Michael didn’t bother with the elevator, and flew down the Grand Legacy stairwell. He tore through the lobby, nearly knocking over a bellman, and bolted out onto the street. He hit the pavement at full stride, his long legs carrying him as fast as he could possibly go. The icy air stabbed at his lungs, but no speed other than lightning-fast would have seemed right. He had to get there now. He had to get there an hour ago. His brain was running just as fast. Please be okay. Please be okay. The thought of her being anything less than perfectly safe and healthy made his stomach lurch. In that moment, he knew not only that he loved Charlotte, but that he also wanted things to work out between them. He wanted them to be together. No, she hadn’t answered a single one of his text messages. Didn’t matter. He still had to try.
Fran had said that Charlotte was up on the third floor in Labor and Delivery, which sounded like a scary proposition. The baby had to be tiny. How could it have come to this already? He ran in through the main entrance. The hospital was eerily quiet, so much so that it felt like his breathing was unreasonably loud. The information desk was empty, and no one offered to direct him, which he decided was for the best. Christmas was apparently not a popular day at the hospital.
Again, he took the stairs instead of the elevator. Fran was waiting for him out in the hall.
“How’s she doing?” He was huffing and puffing. His cheeks were burning.
Fran looked as though she’d aged five years since the last time Michael had seen her, which was only at Sawyer’s wedding. “They have a monitor on her. They’ve picked up the baby’s heartbeat, so that’s a good sign. They want to watch her for a few more hours. They’re hoping the bleeding will stop on its own.”
Michael swallowed hard. He was used to dealing with all sorts of crises with work, but life and death were not a regular part of his day. “Can I see her?”
Fran nodded. “Yes. I’ll walk you in.”
He followed her down the hall. The hospital was certainly nicer than most he’d been to, but nobody ever chose to be here. There was no avoiding the overwhelming sense of that. Fran pushed open the door and Michael trailed her into the room. Charlotte was to his left, lying on her side, both hands tucked under her head. Her eyes were closed. She was wearing a blue-and-white hospital gown. The vision left him even more uneasy than he’d imagined it would.
“Charlotte, darling,” Fran whispered. “Are you awake?”
Charlotte’s eyes popped open. The instant she saw Michael, she jerked up to a sitting position. “Michael? You came?” Her eyes homed in on Fran. “Did you call him?”
Fran sat on the edge of the bed and gently pushed on Charlotte’s arm until she relented and laid back down. “I called him because he’s the father and he should be involved in this.”
Charlotte shook her head. “You don’t have to be here if you don’t want to. Honestly, I don’t want you here at all if you’re only here out of obligation.”
Michael blew out a breath. He’d earned that response. “I’m here because I want to be here. I’m glad Fran called me.” He dared to step closer. Charlotte’s eyes slowly went from fiercely guarded to merely skeptical. He’d take what he could get. “She’s worried about you. And quite frankly, I’m worried, too.”
A faint scowl crossed Charlotte’s face. “I hope you didn’t just come for brownie points. Or to make yourself look good.”
“Never.” Apparently she still thought he was capable of the worst. “I’m more of a chocolate-chip-cookie guy anyway.”
She narrowed her beautiful blue eyes. “Stop trying to be clever.”
“And stop arguing with me. However little I know about having a baby or being pregnant, I’m guessing that the doctor has told you to rest and relax.”
Fran cast her sights up at him, then back at Charlotte. “He’s right, darling. And I didn’t call him to upset you. I called him because everything between you two is going to need to get worked out at some point and the sooner we start, the better for everyone. Even if it ends up being nothing more than a truce.” Fran got up from the bed and smoothed the rumpled sheets. “Now I’m going in search of a decent cup of coffee. I’ll leave you two to talk.”
Michael watched as Fran disappeared through the door, unsure of where his fate sat in all of this. Usually, when he and Charlotte talked, things did not get straightened out. They typically became that much more tangled. Considering everything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours, he decided there was no way things could get any worse.
* * *
Charlotte couldn’t believe Fran had interfered. Although, if the roles and been reversed, Charlotte probably would’ve done the exact same thing. Even that was hard to believe—it was always Charlotte in the role of being the person in a pickle. It was her job to star as the screwup in the Locke family drama, shows nightly and two matinees on the weekend.
Right now, she was about as stuck as could be. Pregnant by the hopelessly handsome guy standing next to her hospital bed who had shown little desire in being a father, which was such a shame. Michael Kelly was too hot to be a sperm donor. Maybe she needed to just be thankful that he’d given her his exceptional genetic material. If everything turned out, this baby she was already so attached to, the child she wanted more than anything, would be beautiful, strong and smart. And much of that would be thanks to Michael.
“May I?” Michael gestured to the chair next to the bed. Apparently, he was staying for a while, which actually sounded nice, even if he wasn’t her favorite person right now.
“Yes. Of course.”
“Thanks.” He dragged it closer, his knees meeting the mattress when he sat.
“You’re wearing shorts? It’s December. And snowing.”
He sat back and crossed his hairy legs. The man’s genetic gifts were off-the-charts, but his legs might be the crowning touch—a million miles long, every muscle as strong as a horse. “This is what I was wearing when Fran called. And I figured running was the best way to get here.”
“So you’re all sweaty and gross under that jacket.”
He nodded. “Afraid so.”
“Yuck.”
Michael laughed and shook his head. “I already knew there was no winning in that scenario. Show up in basketball shorts and get crap for it, or take the time to change and get crap for that.” He folded his arms across his chest and looked her in the eye, wagging his foot at the same time. “So I stayed in the dumbest clothes possible for December in New York, left my car back at the Grand Legacy and ran right over.”
“You ran in the snow. To the hospital. To see me.” Charlotte zeroed in on his face. It was never a simple matter to look at him. There was too much wrapped up in that incredible package. Maybe he did deserve some brownie points. “Thank you for doing that. It was very chivalrous of you.”
“You had to know I would never let you down when it came to the important stuff.”
She sucked in a deep breath. Did he mean every important thing? “That was always my hope.”
“So what are the doctors sayin
g?”
Charlotte’s hand instinctively went to her belly. “They want me to stay on the monitor for a few hours, although I think what they’re mostly trying to do is keep me in this bed and off my feet. Unfortunately, there’s not a lot they can do at this point if my body decides to...” The word got stuck in her throat. Tiny tears stung her eyes. She didn’t want to think it. She didn’t want to lend the thought any credence. Too much of her life had been worrying about the worst-case scenario, only to have it come true. “You know. If the pregnancy isn’t viable.” Using the more clinical term was of zero comfort. If anything, it made her feel worse.
He went for quite a while without saying anything. This was probably just too much for Michael to deal with. She’d have to go with assuming that. She didn’t want to imagine him having anything else on his mind. He sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees, reaching for her hand. “Then I will stay until they decide you can go home.”
“You don’t have to do that. Fran should be back in a little bit and I’ll be fine. I know this isn’t really your scene, Michael. I know this is a lot for you to deal with and you never asked for any of it.”
He wrinkled his nose and pressed his lips together, staring off through the picture window on the far side of the room. It was one of the most powerful shows of emotion she’d ever seen from Michael. Normally he was so composed, so in control. Perhaps it was just an illustration of how difficult this was for him. “I want to be here with you. The thought of leaving you makes me feel like my chest is being hollowed out.”
“I definitely don’t want you to feel like that.”
He looked at her, gazing into her eyes, but it wasn’t like he was peeling back her layers. It was more like he was peeling back his own. She saw a vulnerable man behind those cool blue eyes, one with no agenda. He wasn’t calculating or planning. He was the most in the moment she’d ever seen him. He raised her hand to his lips and brushed her skin with a tender kiss. “I just want to be here for you.”
“And the baby?” She hated that there was so much hope pinned to her question. It felt like a plea she was throwing into the wind, knowing very well that it could fly right back into her face.
“And the baby. Of course, the baby.”
There was a stiffness to his voice and a hardness in his face that she disliked so much she would’ve done almost anything to make it go away. Tiny victories, she decided. Michael had shown up, looking like hell, no less, which was more like a normal day for most people. Six months ago, she would’ve killed for this much attention from Michael.
“Do you want to tell me why you called Sawyer and told him you were giving up your final listing? Does that mean you want to move out?”
He shook his head. “No. I don’t want to move out. And I don’t want you to move out, either. I figured you were just trying to get my attention, and I had to figure out a way to get yours. I know you tell me I’m fixated on work too much, but you’ve been guilty of the same over the last few weeks.”
“I know. I was just trying to cement my future and the baby’s.”
“I still wish you would’ve let me be a part of that.”
That familiar and deep sense of regret rolled back over her, but she took it as it came. There was nothing to do about it now. “I know. I messed up.”
He leaned closer and took her hand. “You know what? We both messed up. I kept a secret from you, too. When we were together the first time around, I should’ve opened up to you. I know now that you were trying to get me to do exactly that. Every day. Every nice thing you ever did for me. I just fought it.”
“Because of your family? Because of everything Chris told me?”
“Honestly, I think part of me felt like I wasn’t good enough for you.”
“How could you ever think that?” Charlotte couldn’t fathom the idea. He was so extraordinary.
“I was so afraid of being weak. I was terrified of being at a disadvantage or putting myself in a position to lose. I didn’t want you to see every fault in me.” He reached out and brushed the hair from the side of her face. It was then that she could see tears misting in his eyes. “It’s what I always do. I put on that perfect front and I hide the mistakes because I’ve learned to hate them. I’ve been taught to hate every imperfect part of me. But I can’t live like that anymore. I messed up yesterday morning. I’m not the jerky guy who blamed everything on you. I’m really not.”
Charlotte choked back her own tears. In her heart of hearts, she’d hoped Michael wasn’t really the guy who would push her away. “I know you’re not. I never truly thought you were. I was just mad.”
“I love you, Charlotte. And I’m not just saying that because you’re in a hospital bed and our future feels like it’s hanging in the balance. I’m saying it now because I can’t spend another minute of my life knowing that I’m not sharing everything inside of me with you.”
Oh, good God, how she’d longed to hear words like those. She smiled wide. “I love you, too. I was going to tell you the night we broke up. I’ve loved you for a long time.”
“Honestly, I think I’ve loved you from the moment we became a couple. I couldn’t admit it to myself because it meant casting aside the facade that made it easy for me to succeed.”
“What changed?”
He laughed quietly, but she could see the sadness in his eyes. “You. You’re what’s changed me. What’s changed me is walking into this room and seeing you in this bed and knowing that you are as vulnerable as a person can be and you’re still you. You make me want to be a better man, Charlie. You make me want to be the real, imperfect Michael Kelly.”
“Only slightly imperfect. Look at you.”
He pushed his chair aside and kneeled beside the bed. He clutched her hand tightly, squeezing. “I love you, Charlotte. I mean it. I love you and I want us to be a family. I want us to build a life together. Please tell me we will try to find a way to make this work.”
“I love you, too, Michael.” She loved seeing the relief on his face, the way his soft eyes became impossibly warm. She could look at his glorious face forever. It would always make her feel at least a little bit invincible. “If you’re willing to make it work, I am, too. We’re both pretty stubborn, so I think we can take a good run at it if we’re on the same side.”
“I never want to be on opposite sides with you again, Charlie. That’s a surefire way to lose.”
Fourteen
The bleeding didn’t stop, so the doctors decided it was best for Charlotte to stay overnight. Michael didn’t leave her side. He told Fran to go home and get some sleep. There was no point in everyone being exhausted, he’d said. He touched base with Sawyer and let him know what was going on. The nurse brought him a blanket and he moved his chair so he could sit right alongside Charlotte, holding her hand all night long.
In the morning, she woke to a note.
Charlie,
Gone in search of coffee. Be back soon.
Love, Michael
She smiled to herself, feeling a pretty big sense of pride. She’d trained Michael Kelly to do something that fell squarely in the category of quality boyfriend behavior. Now to get herself to the bathroom.
She hadn’t told Michael, since he’d been asleep and the nurse said there was no way they would discharge her in the middle of the night, but the bleeding had considerably lessened when she’d gone to the bathroom around 4:00 a.m. Fingers crossed they were on the right trajectory, that this was just a minor bump in the road. They’d had enough roadblocks. She wanted to look ahead to their future.
Sure enough, the tissue this morning had been only the tiniest bit of pink. She came out of the bathroom and a new nurse who had just come on duty was waiting for her. “That’s perfectly normal. Sounds like somebody gets to go home,” she said after Charlotte gave her the report.
Michae
l popped in a minute later. The nurse turned and was instantly awestruck, either by his handsomeness or his ridiculous height or the fact that an Olympian was standing in the room.
“Hi. Michael Kelly.” He shook her hand, but she couldn’t manage much of a response other than a goofy grin before she cleared out of the room so Charlotte could get dressed.
“They’re letting me go home,” she said. “No real bleeding since the middle of the night.”
“Really?” The hopefulness in his voice was so raw and real.
“Really.” She turned her back to him. “Can you untie this gown, please? I can’t wait to get out of this thing.”
“Gladly.” He did as promised, but then he snaked his arms around her bare waist, sending a million tiny jolts of electricity through her. He pulled her back against his chest and kissed the top of her head, then her neck, making her head swim with possibilities.
“No hospital sex.”
“I wouldn’t think of it. Just feeling like I should take advantage of your semidressed state.”
“Always a flirt.” She turned and swatted him on the arm, then grabbed his shoulders and urged him down to her level for a quick kiss. “But I love it.”
Charlotte dressed with a running commentary from Michael about how impressive her breasts were now and that if he’d known that was a side effect of pregnancy, he would’ve been on board with it from the very beginning.
After Charlotte signed her discharge papers, an orderly arrived with a wheelchair for her. Michael insisted on pushing.
“I feel really dumb in this thing,” Charlotte said, taking a seat. “I’m perfectly capable of walking downstairs.”
“The nurse said it’s a rule. Plus, it’s giving me good practice for after the baby arrives.”
Contentment crept over her, but she just went along for the ride. Michael pushed her through the electric doors once they were down to the ground floor. He parked the wheelchair to the side.
“You’re being so normal about this whole thing. I’m kind of amazed,” she said.