He scrubbed his face with his hands.
She was okay. And the baby was okay. Those were the two most important facts. Anything else was unimportant, including how he felt about her and how much he wanted to right the world for her.
* * *
IT WAS AMAZING how exhausting it was reassuring people that you were okay—especially when one of those people happened to be your theatrically inclined mother. Lucy had been transferred to a ward by the time Rosie, Andrew and Sophia arrived, and Lucy spent their entire visit telling them over and over what the doctor had told her. Eventually Andrew suggested they leave her to get some rest. Lucy threw him a grateful smile as he herded her sister and mother from the room. She was exhausted, but there was one thing she needed to do before she could even thinking of sleeping.
She leaned out of the bed, trying to hook her hand bag off the floor.
“I’ll get it,” Dom said from the doorway.
She sank back on the pillows as he handed over her bag. She hadn’t seen him since her family had arrived. He’d faded discreetly into the background when they bustled in and clustered around the bed, and the next time she’d looked up he’d been gone.
“Thanks. I thought you might have gone home by now,” she said. “No.”
He didn’t say anything else and for some reason she couldn’t hold his eye. Now that she knew her baby was safe, fear had receded and the memory of their kiss was like a third presence in the room.
Craziness, all of it. What had she been thinking? What had he been thinking?
Flustered, she indicated her bag.
“I wanted to check to see if Marcus had called. It occurred to me he might have tried my cell phone.”
“Right.”
Dom’s face and voice were neutral, but she found herself feeling defensive on Marcus’s behalf.
“He’s probably out doing something and has left his cell at home,” she said.
She checked her phone quickly, but there were no messages.
“He mustn’t have got the message yet,” she said.
“Can I get you anything?” Dom asked.
“No, thank you. I’m going to try to sleep, I think.”
“Good. You look tired,” he said.
“I feel tired.”
He stepped closer to the bed and leaned toward her. She held her breath as his lips brushed her cheek.
“Sleep well. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You don’t need to bother,” she said. “Rosie and Andrew will take me home in the morning once I’ve been cleared for discharge, and then I’ll probably rest.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he repeated.
She stared at the empty doorway for a long moment after he’d gone, his words from earlier in the evening echoing in her mind.
I’ve always been attracted to you.
She had no idea what to think or feel about his declaration. She certainly didn’t know what to think or feel about his kiss—apart from the fact that it had been the hottest damn thing she’d experienced in a long time.
Craziness.
She reached for the switch beside her bed and turned off the overhead light. Then she rolled onto her side, one arm cradling her belly.
Lying in the dark, the depth and breadth of what had almost happened tonight hit her. She shuddered as she relived the horrible moment when she’d lifted her hand from between her legs and seen blood. She was so lucky. For the long, tense minutes of the ambulance ride and the first hurried moments in the emergency department she’d been so sure she was losing her baby. But her daughter was still alive inside her. It felt like a miracle.
Not that a previa diagnosis was to be taken lightly. She was going to have to be very careful from now on. But her baby was alive.
She closed her eyes as she smoothed circles on her belly and whispered quietly to her little girl.
“You gave Mommy a scare, didn’t you, little one? Let’s never do that again, okay?”
She was so tired. She wanted to sleep very badly, but her body remained tense. It wasn’t until she heard the distant ring of a phone at the nurses’ station and realized she was straining her ears, waiting for the footfall of a nurse coming to tell her she had a call that she understood what she was doing: waiting for Marcus to call.
There were a million explanations for why he hadn’t shown up at the hospital or at the very least called to check on her and the baby. He could have gone away for the weekend and forgotten his phone. He might have forgotten to charge it. Or he might be at the movies or someplace else where he couldn’t have his phone on.
She closed her eyes again. Her baby needed her to sleep. She could worry about Marcus in the morning.
* * *
IN THE END, Marcus didn’t call until 11:00 a.m. the following day when she was about to leave the hospital with Rosie and Andrew.
“Lucy, what’s going on? Are you okay?” he asked when she took the call.
“I’m fine. I have to be careful, but the baby is well and so am I,” she said.
Her sister collected Lucy’s things and stepped out into the corridor to give her privacy.
“That’s a relief. I wasn’t sure if I should call the hospital first, but then I figured if you answered your cell things couldn’t be too bad,” he said.
“I was very lucky. My placenta is low in my womb, but the doctor told me that there’s every chance it will shift as the baby gets bigger.”
“Well, good to know it was just a false alarm,” Marcus said.
He sounded distracted. She could hear noise in the background, as though he had the television on.
“It was more a warning than a false alarm,” she said, frowning. “I’m going to have to be very careful the next few weeks.”
“Right.”
Her hand tightened on the phone.
“I’ll be home this afternoon if you wanted to hear more about what the doctor said,” she prompted when he didn’t ask any more questions.
“I know the important stuff already. You’re going to be okay.”
“And the baby,” she said.
“Right.”
Rosie returned to the doorway. Lucy glanced up and met her sister’s watchful, sympathetic eyes. She dropped her gaze to her feet.
“I found out the baby’s sex,” she said.
Marcus was silent for a moment before exhaling loudly.
“Listen, Luce, all that stuff is great, but I don’t know if it’s the sort of thing I need to know.”
“Sorry?”
“This is your baby, not mine. I don’t want to get too attached. I’ve got my own life now. I don’t think it’s helpful for either of us to get things too confused.”
“You don’t even want to know if I’m having a boy or a girl?”
He sighed heavily again. “Sure. Why not, if you want to tell me.”
Lucy hunched forward as though she could somehow protect her baby from his disinterest.
“On second thought, I’ve changed my mind,” she said in a rush. Then she ended the call and let the phone drop to the bed.
Rosie sat beside her.
“He doesn’t want to know anything about the baby,” Lucy reported.
“No.”
Her sister didn’t sound surprised.
“I know he’s been absorbed with Belinda the Nimble, but I figured that something like this…”
“He’s a selfish little boy, Lucy. Always has been, always will be.”
Lucy stared at her sister.
“I’m so stupid.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I am. I expected him to rush to the hospital. I expected him to care.”
“That doesn’t make you stupid.”
Lucy stared down at her hands. “I want to go home now.”
“Okay.”
She stared out the window all the way from the city to Northcote.
She felt as though the rug had been jerked from beneath her feet. Which was irrational, because Marcus had been
gone for months. He was in love with another woman; he’d abandoned her utterly. Yet somehow, despite all of that, she’d still expected him to be there for her and the baby if she needed him. She’d still expected him to care. To want to know. To participate. To want to be a father, even if he didn’t want to be her partner anymore. The baby she was carrying was half his—surely that was an ironclad guarantee that he was as invested as she was?
Apparently not. Apparently he had no interest in his daughter at all.
She stared blindly at the cars and trees and houses flashing past.
It’s just me. Rosie and Andrew and Ma are there, but when it all boils down to it, it’s just me and no one else.
For a moment, fear gripped her. Could she really be everything to her baby, both mother and father? Was she up to it? Strong enough? Brave enough?
She took a deep breath. She thought about the tiny person she’d seen on the ultrasound last night. She straightened as resolve hardened inside her.
She could handle this alone. She would handle this alone. And from this moment on, she wouldn’t allow herself the indulgence, the luxury of ever imagining that she didn’t have to. No more secret, hidden beliefs that Marcus would come through for her. No more thinking of Dominic Bianco and letting herself wonder what if.
It was tempting to buy in to the fantasy that Dom represented—a new romance with a hot, desirable man who just happened to have no problems whatsoever with the fact that she was about to give birth to another man’s child. A man apparently willing to share the load, wake to feed the baby, change diapers, cook dinner, rub her aching back. In short, a man who would slot ready-made into her life and fill the roles of husband, partner, father and lover all in one.
But she would have to be very foolish and very reckless to believe in that fantasy. And she was neither of those things—she couldn’t afford to be.
She was almost glad Marcus had been so blunt, so direct in his rejection of her and her child. She’d needed the wake-up call. The time for dreams and fantasies was over.
* * *
IT WAS NEARLY MIDDAY Monday and Dom had just finished his last Market Fresh delivery for the day when his cell rang. He smiled to himself when he saw it was Lucy. He knew she’d be unable to resist checking up on him.
He’d seen her the previous day to collect the van and her customer orders, but he hadn’t stayed very long. Her family had circled the wagons to fuss over her. He’d felt like he was intruding.
“Are your feet up?” he asked as he took the call.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Are you lying down?” he repeated.
He wondered if she was frowning or smiling at his interference. Maybe a bit of both.
“I’m sitting on the couch.”
“Okay, then I can tell you the deliveries are all done for the day and I’m about to head back to the market.”
“Already? You were fast.” She sounded surprised.
“I thought you were usually done by midday.”
“I am. But you’re the new guy. You’re supposed to be slower.”
Definitely she was smiling. He leaned against the side of the van. Even over a cell phone call, her voice had the slight husk in it that always grabbed at the pit of his stomach.
“I want you to know, I really appreciate this, Dom,” she said. “I know this wasn’t part of our deal and that I was supposed to be the one who was hands-on with the business, at least until we got the Web site up and running and a second van on the road.”
“You’re right, it wasn’t part of our deal. So I guess you owe me.”
There was a small silence, then she laughed.
“Okay. Sure. When this is over, I owe you two weeks of hard labor. Fair deal,” she said.
The sun came out from behind a cloud, and he lifted his face to the warmth.
“Do I get to choose the labor?” he asked.
For a moment the only thing coming from the other end of the line was silence. When she spoke again her tone was brisk.
“I don’t think so. But you can trust me to ante up,” she said.
He straightened and opened the door to the van.
“I’ve been thinking, since you’re off the road for the next couple of weeks, this is a perfect time to kick-start the Web site development,” he said.
“That was what I was going to suggest, too.” She sounded surprised.
“Great minds think alike.”
“I guess so. I’ve been going over my plans, but I wanted to talk to you before I brief the development company.”
“Why don’t I drop in after work tonight and take a look at them?”
“Okay.” There was a short pause. “Do you want to stay for dinner? Ma has made me about fifty casseroles. I can barely get a slice of cheese into the fridge.”
He hadn’t expected to see her until the end of the week. Tonight was much better.
“Sounds good,” he said. “I’ll see you later.”
He was smiling as he ended the call. Then he remembered the little hiccup in their conversation.
Neither of them had mentioned the kiss. Other things had kind of gotten in the way. But he hadn’t forgotten. And neither had she, clearly. He stared out the windshield.
She hadn’t liked it when he got personal. And he’d promised her that he wouldn’t pressure her.
But she’d kissed him on Saturday night. She’d opened her mouth to him and pressed herself against him and held on to his arms as though she wanted to be as close to him as much as he wanted to be close to her. He hadn’t imagined that moment.
He started the van. He was seeing her tonight. That would have to be enough for now.
* * *
LUCY WAS A BALL of nerves by the time Dom was due at her place that evening. She could feel her heart beating against her ribs, her palms were sweaty and she kept needing to go to the bathroom.
Grow up, she told herself sternly. You need to do this, and then it’s done and you won’t need to worry about it ever again.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when he knocked on the door.
“Hey. I brought dessert,” he said when she let him in. “I figured your mother’s catering might not run to three courses.”
“It doesn’t,” she said.
He brought the smell of rain with him, and his dark hair sparkled with droplets.
“I hadn’t even noticed it was raining,” she said.
“Oh yeah. Cats and dogs and even a couple of cows.”
She glanced away as he shrugged his broad shoulders out of a navy peacoat.
“Smells good,” he said, sniffing appreciatively.
“Well, I can’t take any credit for that. It’s all Ma,” she said.
She fidgeted with the oven mitts she’d left on the kitchen counter. Then she took a deep breath and met his eyes.
“Dom, we need to talk.”
“Okay,” he said easily. He propped a hip against the counter and raised his eyebrows expectantly.
“What happened the other night was a mistake,” she said stiffly. “I just wanted to establish that so we could both put it behind us and move on.”
His expression became wary.
“You mean our kiss?”
“Your kiss,” she corrected him.
He smiled a little.
“I know a gentleman never brags, but you kissed me back, Lucy,” he said.
When she’d rehearsed this in her mind last night, it hadn’t been nearly as difficult. But then Dom hadn’t been standing there in a snug knit top, dark cords hugging his thighs, his eyes warm on her.
“Fine. Have it your way. The important thing is that it can’t happen again.”
“Okay,” he said slowly. “That’s your call. I promised you I wouldn’t pressure you, and I meant it.”
She blinked.
Wow. That was easy. She’d been nervous all day thinking about having this conversation, but he’d folded like a cheap deck chair.
She wasn’t sure if she
was pleased or slightly disappointed.
Which is exactly why this conversation had to happen, her better self reminded her sternly.
“Can I ask one question?” Dom asked as her shoulders began to relax.
“What?” Her shoulders tensed again.
He tilted his head to one side, studying her.
“Was it because you didn’t like it?”
She picked up the oven mitt and began to twist it in her hands. “Whether I liked it or not has nothing to do with it.”
“I just thought that if you didn’t like it, if you’re not attracted to me, that was one thing. But if it was something else…?”
“It’s irrelevant. This whole flirting thing has to stop.”
“Flirting. Is that what you think I’m doing?” he asked. He looked and sounded surprised.
She put down the oven mitt.
“I don’t know what you’re doing, I only know it needs to stop.”
“Because you don’t like it,” he said.
“No.” She realized what she’d inadvertently admitted but plowed on anyway. “Because I’m pregnant, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
His gaze dipped to her belly.
“I noticed,” he finally said.
“It’s kind of hard to miss.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“But it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
He looked deep into her eyes when he said it and her heart pumped out a couple of double-time beats.
She pointed a finger at him.
“That’s exactly the kind of thing I’m talking about. You can’t keep saying stuff like that and looking at me like that.”
“Lucy, I like you. I already told you that,” he said.
She hated how calm he sounded, how in control, while she felt like a can of soda that had taken a spin in the clothes dryer. She stared at him, frustrated that she couldn’t articulate her feelings more clearly.
“Don’t you understand? I can’t do this kind of stuff anymore. I can’t look at a man and feel weak in the knees and look at his mouth and want to kiss him. I’m going to have a baby. I can’t afford to fool around like that.”
“This man you’re going weak at the knees over and thinking about kissing—can I assume that’s me?” he said.
She ran her hands through her hair, then spread them wide. Her Italian blood coming to the fore, she growled low in her throat, an expression of absolute frustration with her inability to explain.
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