by Tracy Wolff
“Wanna bet?” He used one of the boys’ favorite phrases.
“Yes.” The look she shot him was pure big sister. “Besides, there’s nothing to beat him up for. He’s working.”
“That’s what they all say.”
“Leave it alone, Tad.”
“Why should I? The jerk abandons you when you’re pregnant, then moves into your house without so much as an explanation. And then he runs all over the country whenever things get a little boring.”
“He has to make a living.”
“In Hawaii?”
“Yes, in Hawaii. And in San Francisco and wherever else his buildings are going up. He’s the architect and if there are problems, he’s the one who has to go fix them.”
“Why are you making excuses for him?”
“Why are you jumping all over him?”
“Oh, man.” Tad shook his head in disbelief.
“What?”
“I’ve seen this before.”
“Seen what?” She couldn’t keep the defensive note out of her voice.
“This single-minded preoccupation with a loser. You did it after Dad left—made excuse after excuse. With Mike, too.”
“I’m not making excuses.”
“You’re in love with him.”
Tad’s pronouncement came down with all the impact of a lightning bolt, shutting her up and shaking the very foundations she’d built her life on since her sons were born.
“That’s not true!” she exclaimed, but her voice was weaker than she’d heard it in a long time.
Tad studied her. “Yes, it is. Sarah, I swear, when it comes to your personal life you’re a train wreck waiting to happen.”
“That’s—”
“What do you think is going to happen with Reece? You think he’s going to fall in love with you? Marry you? The guy lost his wife and, though he may be showing an interest in you, I’m telling you it’s purely sexual.”
Sarah stared at her brother in wounded silence. Even though she knew he was trying to help, it still hurt to hear her relationship with Reece spoken of in such derogatory terms. But she didn’t argue with Tad—she couldn’t. Hadn’t she thought the same thing more than once?
To his credit, Tad quickly realized that he’d overstepped his bounds, and rubbed her awkwardly on the back—as if a few pats could make up for what he’d said. “Look, Sarah, I’m sorry. That totally came out wrong. Its just that I’m not convinced this guy is good for you. And I’m sick and tired of watching you get screwed over.”
“You act like it keeps happening. It’s happened once. Yes, Mike was a loser. But Reece isn’t like that. He calls every day to talk, has tried to make it home twice, but things keep cropping up. He’ll be home when he can.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes.” No—not by a long shot, but she couldn’t tell her brother that. He was already down on Reece. That would be exacerbated if Tad found out Reece had left after making love to her. Tad would go through the roof. Or say, I told you so.
And right now, she couldn’t handle either scenario. Not that she could blame him. Was she being blind? Was it stupid to trust Reece with his dubious track record? Should she be more suspicious of the man who had already bailed on her twice?
But things had been different after he’d returned from California—he’d been so tender. So involved with Rose and the boys—and her. Shouldn’t she be willing to trust him, just a little? Especially when she’d already given him her heart?
Maybe she should confront him when he got back from Hawaii. Tell him she wanted to know where they stood. Explain that she couldn’t live in limbo forever—that it wasn’t fair to the kids and it wasn’t fair to her.
She was still brooding about the problem the next day, as she and Rose completed the grocery shopping for the week. Sarah had talked to Reece the night before—he’d called right before the kids’ bedtime, like he always did—and he had seemed warm, loving. Completely focused on her and their unconventional family. But he’d also told her he wasn’t going to make it back on Thursday as he’d thought. That the earliest he would make it home would be Monday or Tuesday of the following week.
She’d been as disappointed as the kids, but heartened by the disgust in his own tone. He’d sounded as upset as she was that it was going to be another six or seven days before he made it back.
And he was talking about making it back, had referred to her place as home numerous times in the conversations they’d had these past couple of weeks. Surely that counted for something?
Rose whined from her seat at the front of the basket, drawing Sarah’s attention away from her internal debate. “I know, pumpkin,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to the soft curls that had started growing on her baby’s head. “You’ve been such a good girl, and we’re almost done.”
She turned the corner of the baby food aisle. “We’ve got to pick up a few things for you.” Rose laughed and cooed as Sarah loaded the cart up with some of her favorite foods. “We want sweet potatoes and carrots and pears and apple blueberries. Yum, yum.”
Rose blew a raspberry and Sarah laughed, delighted with her daughter. It was hard to imagine that a month ago, the little girl had been at death’s door, and Sarah gave thanks every day that things had worked out the way they had.
She turned the next corner. “Okay, Rosie-posie. One last stop. We need diapers and wipes for you then we’ll be out of here.” But as she was putting a box of diapers into the cart, her gaze landed on the display across the aisle.
Her period was due and she didn’t think she had enough tampons at home to last the month—better to stock up now than to make an unexpected run to the drugstore later. Especially with three kids and a limited amount of time. But as her hand closed over the box, something clicked in her head.
Her last period had been over a month before—she remembered because she’d had to stop at the drugstore on the way to open house at the boys’ school. But that would mean—she counted in her head—that her period was nearly three weeks late.
Okay. Don’t panic. She’d been under a lot of stress lately. That would throw anyone off.
Besides, Reece had always used protection. And none had broken, so surely she was safe.
Yet even as she started to put the tampons in her basket, she paused. Recounted to see if she’d somehow made a mistake. Freaking out when she realized her numbers were right on. She was over three weeks late—and her cycle was like clockwork. In fact, she’d only been late twice before in her entire life—and she’d been pregnant both of those times.
Panic was a cold fist within her as she cruised farther down the aisle to the pregnancy tests. It had only been eighteen months since she’d last had to buy one and she couldn’t believe—absolutely could not believe—that she was standing here looking at them again.
Nauseous and cold to the bone, she picked up the most familiar brand and tossed it in her basket. Then all but ran for the checkout.
This couldn’t be happening, she repeated over and over again in her head. She’d just started her first sexual relationship in six years. She absolutely could not be pregnant. Fate couldn’t be that cruel. She’d already gone through two pregnancies and had had three children without a husband around. Could it be possible that she was gearing up for a fourth? The thought made her sick.
Taking one deep breath after another, trying desperately to focus on something besides the disaster looming, she packed her groceries into her car and then drove home as fast as she could—breaking a number of speeding laws in the process.
Once home, she didn’t even bother to unload the groceries. Simply grabbed Rose and the pregnancy test and made a beeline for the house. With only a very quick stop to deposit an unhappy Rose in her playpen, she ran to the bathroom, tore open the test and took it before she could talk herself out of it.
Be negative, she whispered as she stared at the little results window. Be negative, be negative. The directions said to wait three minutes bef
ore checking, but in her experience if she was pregnant, the second line showed up right away.
And there it was—a second line next to the control line. She was pregnant.
Her legs went out from under her and she hit the ground, hard, but she was in so much shock she hardly registered the jolt. Pregnant. She was thirty-three. Pregnant. Unmarried. And alone—again.
Although, if she was completely honest, she’d been married to Mike when she’d gotten pregnant with the boys—just not when she delivered them. And with Rose, marriage hadn’t been important. But with this one—her hand crept over her abdomen—with this one, it would have been nice to be married to a guy she knew was going to stick around for a while. She had absolutely no desire to go through a third pregnancy on her own.
She lifted the wand to look at it again, praying that she had somehow misread the test. But she hadn’t—both lines were still there in perfect clarity.
Sarah had no idea how long she sat there staring blankly at the pregnancy test, but eventually she talked herself into getting up and checking on Rose. The baby was playing contentedly with the odd assortment of toys at the bottom of her playpen, so Sarah went to unload the groceries.
As she carried a heavy box of water, Sarah couldn’t help wondering how long she would be able to carry heavy stuff. How long before her energy started flagging—like it always did in the first trimester—and she had no chance of keeping up with the kids.
She glanced down at her feet, encased in a cute pair of sandals. How long before they swelled beyond recognition? Tears came to her eyes, but she quickly batted them away. If she started crying now, she might never stop. And she had too much to get done today to spend the day in hysterics, no matter how tempting the idea sounded.
With a sigh, she retrieved Rose. Then set the baby on the kitchen floor to watch as she unpacked the groceries and made lunch for both of them.
As she poured herself a big glass of milk, Sarah groaned. She hated milk with a passion and the idea of drinking it for the next nine months was almost enough to make her sick.
But she would adjust, she thought, as she glanced at the daughter she loved more than her own life. Didn’t she always?
REECE HAD NEVER BEEN so happy to be home in his life. He’d been so anxious to see Sarah and the kids that he’d taken the red-eye in from Honolulu after his last meet ing, which had gotten him home at ten in the morning instead of the much later evening flight he’d originally been booked into.
He hadn’t called ahead, hadn’t told Sarah to expect him, because he’d wanted to surprise her. But now that he stood in the middle of a silent house, he was the surprised one. Sarah was nowhere around—and neither was Rose.
He knew the boys were at school, but couldn’t help wondering where his two best girls were. He’d hoped, naively it turned out, to have some time to spend with Sarah while Rose napped and before the boys got home.
It wasn’t like her to be gone on a Tuesday, though.
This was one of her work days, and according to the conversation they’d had the night before, her Web design business had suddenly gotten swamped. Which meant great things financially for her, but also difficulty in getting her schedule to match up. Maybe today was one of those days when the schedule didn’t work.
Slowly, he carried his backpack and suitcase upstairs, cursing the entire Hawaii project to hell and back. He’d been gone almost a month and had hated every second of it. The trip should only have taken a week—two weeks at the most, but it had been a total disaster from beginning to end.
The worst part was, it hadn’t even been his or Matt’s fault. The civil engineering company their client had hired to oversee the project had blown everything. It had taken him over a week to get his clients to understand that, then three more weeks to fix the damage the company had done in the meantime.
He was home now. That was what he needed to concentrate on. As he walked toward his bedroom, he could smell Sarah’s perfume in the air. He’d only missed her by a few minutes. He cursed the traffic that had held him up.
He wanted to see her now, needed to hold her in his arms and reassure himself that everything was okay. She’d been different the past few days on the phone—stilted, abrupt. Almost as if she couldn’t get him off the phone fast enough.
He’d tried to find out what was wrong, but she hadn’t wanted to talk. She’d laughed and brushed him off, but he’d felt the vibes as clearly as if he was in the same room. Was Sarah getting cold feet? Was she freaking out over the Vanessa thing?
He couldn’t blame her. He had his fair share of concerns. Had asked himself more than once what he was doing. But the fact of the matter was he cared about Sarah, a lot. He wanted to be with her and be with their children—he was already thinking of Justin and Johnny as his. Once he’d admitted that, he’d realized that everything else could take care of itself.
It would have to, because he wasn’t giving up Sarah.
As he was getting out of the shower a few minutes later, he heard the garage door open. Excitement thrummed through him, and he threw on a pair of jeans before hitting the hallway at a run.
Sarah was already halfway up the stairs. “Reece?”
“I’m right here, love.” Taking the remaining stairs two at a time, he swept her into his arms and kissed her full on the mouth.
Heat exploded between them immediately and before he knew it, he had his hand inside her blouse and was stroking her nipple. She felt so good, so warm and soft and good, that he wanted to bury himself in her forever.
“Where’s Rose?” he asked as he skimmed his mouth across her jaw and began nibbling on her earlobe, gold hoop earring and all.
“Downstairs,” she gasped, as she pulled away reluctantly. “I popped her on the floor, but she’ll be scooting across the floor toward us at any second.”
He was flabbergasted. “She’s scooting now?”
“Yes.” Sarah’s smile was proud. “She’s almost ready to start crawling, too. She’s pushing up onto all fours, and even manages to move forward a little. But then she forgets what she’s doing and collapses onto her tummy.”
A wave of sorrow hit him so quickly that he didn’t have a chance to hide it from Sarah.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” she asked, running a hand over his suddenly grim mouth.
“I’ve missed so much—more than half her life, between what happened in the beginning and these last two trips.”
“Hey, don’t worry about it. She’s down there now, and I bet she’d love to see her daddy.”
Sarah’s voice was light, but he sensed her withdrawal keenly. And her face wasn’t right—her blue eyes were shadowed again and it looked like she’d lost weight.
“Hey.” He grabbed her hand as she headed downstairs, stalling her progress. “Is everything okay? You look worn-out.”
“Everything’s great. I’ve just been busy. I picked up some new clients, plus I’ve been volunteering at the boys’ school.”
“You need to get more rest. I’m sorry I had to leave.”
“I wish you’d stop saying that.” She headed down the stairs, tugging him along behind her. “Believe me, I know all about having to make a living.”
“I know, but—” He broke off when he got his first glimpse of his daughter. “She’s grown so much!” he exclaimed, heading toward her.
“She has. Almost two full inches.”
“And she’s got hair.”
“Aren’t the curls great?”
“They’re beautiful—just like her mother’s.” Holding his arms out to pick her up, he said, “Hey, Rosie-posie,” in the singsong voice he knew she loved. But instead of coming to him, she started to cry as she scooted across the floor toward Sarah.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, bewildered. “Doesn’t she remember me?”
He’d said the last as a joke, but judging from the looks on Rosie’s and Sarah’s face, he was suddenly afraid he had hit on exactly what the problem was.
“I was gone t
oo long.” He walked forward slowly, his arms actually aching with the need to hold his daughter. “She really doesn’t remember me.”
“She will,” Sarah answered soothingly, keeping her voice pitched low as she rubbed her baby’s back. “Give her a minute.”
He gave her several, and Rose finally loosened up enough to let him hold her. It was obvious she recognized his voice, but still wasn’t sure how to respond to him. Even their favorite games only got a smile out of her—the giggles of a month before were long gone.
By the time Sarah suggested he try and put Rose down for a nap, he was emotionally exhausted. Bowing out with a claim of jet lag, he went up to his room and spent the next hour staring at the ceiling.
His fantasy homecoming had ended up as just that—a fantasy. And the reality of it was turning out to be one hell of a nightmare. His daughter didn’t remember him and his lover seemed less than enthusiastic at his presence. He could still remember the slight frown on her face as she climbed the stairs, almost as if she was disappointed to see him in her house.
What a joke he was. A failure. He’d totally screwed up the best things in his life—with his unnecessary trip to San Francisco followed closely by this one to Hawaii. How could he have expected things to stay the same? A month was a long time in baby time—seven weeks even longer. And that’ s how long he’d been gone over the past three months—seven weeks. His only at-home time had been when the baby was sick and the weeks immediately following her release from the hospital.
Was it any wonder things weren’t going as he’d planned? He was a bigger idiot than he’d thought.
A loser.
A failure.
The words hit him hard, made him shudder—shadows of the names his father used to call his brother. Memories of what Vanessa would shout at him when she lost her temper, knowing how he felt about the subject. At the time he’d been able to let the insults roll of his back, secure in himself and his place in the world.
But since he’d moved in with Sarah those words had been haunting him. It seemed no matter what he did here, he couldn’t get it right.