“Are you close to your family?” she asked, taking him up on his offer to tell her anything.
“Most of them are right over there—how much closer do you want us to be?” he joked.
“I know people who seem to be close to their families but aren’t. Just because you live near them—”
“No, I don’t just live near them. I like them, too. I’d run into a burning building for any one of them and they’d do the same for me.” He said that as if he truly meant it. Then he looked at her very intently, pinning her with those eyes of his as he added, “Family is important to me. Really, really important.”
Uh-oh…
Marti could see in his expression and hear in his voice where he was going with that. And she just didn’t know if she was ready for it. If she could be honest with him. If she should be. She didn’t have any more idea of where things might go from here than she had when they’d sat down, or if she should let him in, or what kind of havoc might be wreaked if she did.
It’s my baby, she suddenly wanted to make perfectly clear to him. Mine…
But before Noah seemed able to find the words to ask outright, his grandfather appeared from the living room pounding his cane on the hardwood floor to gain their attention.
“Noah!” the Reverend said, his voice booming despite his frail, spindly appearance.
Noah’s gaze remained on Marti for another moment before he turned to his grandfather. “Reverend,” he answered, sounding none too happy to be interrupted.
The old man didn’t seem to care. “I’m tired. Take me home,” he demanded.
“Could you give me a minute?”
“No! I want to go now!”
Noah sighed, obviously knowing the Reverend would have his way or else. “Okay.”
Marti watched as Noah grabbed his grandfather’s topcoat from the hall and helped him pull it on, her gaze fixed on Noah’s strong hands, recalling how they’d cupped her shoulders and let her feel their power in the most enticing way…
But thoughts like that had no place at the moment. She told herself that she should just be glad the old reverend had bought her a little more time to think through what she was going to do instead of being distracted by her attraction to Noah.
Embracing her reprieve, she stood to join the two men at the door to see them out.
“Thank you for the lovely ceremony, Reverend,” she said politely to the elderly man, despite his rude attitude.
In response he grumbled something she didn’t quite catch as Noah opened the door for him and he went out.
Noah didn’t follow him immediately the way Marti thought he would. He paused a moment to look at her, to let those dark chocolate eyes delve into hers once more.
Then, in a low voice that was again for her alone to hear, he said, “Is it mine?”
Panic shot through Marti stronger than before and a thousand thoughts ran through her head.
But the only one that stuck was that while she might not know much of anything about this guy, she knew he was nobody’s fool.
“Is it, Marti? Is the baby mine?” he reiterated after his grandfather had made another demand from outside to be taken home.
Please don’t let this turn out badly…
“Yes,” she whispered, still not sure it was the right thing to do.
Noah’s gaze dropped for just a split second to her middle, then rose to meet her eyes again.
He didn’t say anything. He merely stared at her a minute more, his brows beetled together in a dark, dark frown.
Then he nodded—really only a raise of his chin in acknowledgment—before he followed his grandfather out of the house.
Chapter Four
N oah was a no-show for work on Monday. He didn’t call. He didn’t send any kind of message saying he wouldn’t be there. He didn’t respond to the voice mail Wyatt left when Wyatt called to ask where he was before Neily and Wyatt left for their honeymoon.
“It’ll be fine. I’ll deal with it. It isn’t as if I haven’t handled contractors before,” Marti assured both of her brothers so Ry could get on the road to Missoula, too.
But underneath it all?
Marti was even more of a wreck than she’d been before.
She just didn’t know why.
So what if Noah had freaked out about the baby? So what if he didn’t want anything to do with her or the pregnancy or with his child once it was here? She hadn’t intended to make him a part of it before this, she’d intended to do it on her own anyway.
What difference did it make if he’d ended up knowing? It didn’t change anything. The baby was still hers. She was still going to have it, raise it, love it. If he didn’t want any part of that, fine, she told herself.
Absolutely fine. No problem whatsoever. All the better, probably.
Yet, for some reason, thinking that that was the reason he’d done a disappearing act today had thrown her off balance, and by the end of Monday afternoon she just wanted to get away from everything to have a moment to herself.
So she trudged up to her bedroom, feeling the weight of all she’d found in Northbridge bearing down on her. Wondering if she really could do what she’d convinced her brothers she could when it came to the conundrum surrounding Theresa, and taking the next steps in opening a new Home-Max in the small town and overseeing the renovations of the house by the contractor who had gotten her pregnant and now made himself scarce…
No, it was okay that Noah seemed to have vanished into thin air, she told herself again as she closed the bedroom door and pressed her forehead to it. At least nobody else knew he was the baby’s father. At least nothing on the surface had changed.
And if she’d gone to bed last night thinking about those deep, dark eyes and that smile that could spread out so slowly it was like waiting for Christmas and a voice as rich as hot fudge? Well, now she knew how Noah had gotten to her in Denver, but it didn’t have anything to do with here and now.
Here and now the fact of the matter was that Noah was not Jack—Jack who would have been thrilled with a baby, who would have marveled at every minute of the pregnancy they shared, who would never have left her hanging—and she needed to make sure she didn’t lose sight of that.
But yes, today she felt as if she was carrying a pretty heavy load on her shoulders, and despite her show of strength and confidence and invincibility to her brothers, she was feeling anything but.
The house phone rang just then and Marti held her breath, hating that everything seemed to pause as she waited to hear if the call might be from the sexy contractor.
And then Mary Pat yelled up, “It’s for you, Marti. It’s Noah,” and in that split second the dark clouds over her head seemed to part.
But that wasn’t good, either, she cautioned herself.
“He’s probably just calling to say he’s history when it comes to the baby and the remodel,” she muttered.
But if that was the case, she needed to get it over with so she would know exactly where she stood and could just get on with this new twist, too.
So she hollered back to Mary Pat, “I’ll be right there,” and pushed away from the bedroom door to open it.
As she retraced her steps downstairs to take the call there sprang to life a tiny ray of something she tried to ignore.
Something that felt a little like the hope that underneath Noah Perry’s laid-back charm and simmering sensuality she might find that he was a stand-up guy after all.
Marti arrived at the coffeehouse earlier than she’d told Noah she would be there. That had been the purpose of his phone call late in the afternoon—to ask her to meet him for coffee that evening. He hadn’t apologized for not coming to work, nor had he said anything about the baby. In a very serious, sober tone of voice, he had merely told her he wanted to meet with her. And she’d agreed.
Then she’d skipped dinner because her stomach had been too tied in knots to put food in it. Instead she’d taken a second shower, shampooed her hair and carefully chosen a pai
r of low-slung brown linen slacks and a cream-colored silk sweater set. She’d caught the sides of her hair in a clip in back and left the rest of it to fall free, added mascara, blush and a little lip gloss to finish her efforts, then drove Wyatt’s SUV to Main Street and the small establishment that served hot and cold beverages and a few pastries.
And there she was, trying to prepare herself for whatever was about to come her way. Anticipating the worst.
She didn’t have long to wait. Noah arrived five minutes after her. The front of the place was all windows so from her seat at a corner table where her back was to the wall, she saw him drive up.
He parked his white truck at the curb and got out. Marti couldn’t be sure, but she had the impression that he might have put some thought into his own clothes. He had on a pair of dark denim jeans and a tan V-neck sweater over a white crew-necked T-shirt. There wasn’t even the hint of a beard on his handsome face so she knew he’d shaved right before he left.
Looks can be deceiving, though, she thought when she couldn’t help the twinge of appreciation for the sight he presented. No matter how good a presentation he made, if he was there to tell her what she thought he was there to tell her, he was a creep.
He spotted her the minute he walked into the place and came over to her. “Hi,” he greeted her simply with a tight-lipped impersonation of a smile that was clearly wary.
“Hi,” she answered just as guardedly.
“Thanks for coming.”
Marti nodded.
“What can I get you?” he asked with a glance over his broad shoulder toward the counter where orders were taken. “Can you drink coffee? Do you drink coffee?”
We don’t even know that about each other, Marti lamented.
“I’ll have a decaf nonfat latte.”
“I’ll be right back,” he said as he left again.
Marti watched him at the counter, unable to deny that the rear view was almost as good as the front because his jeans encased a derriere too prime not to notice.
Then he turned with their coffees and she quickly raised her gaze to his ruggedly striking face again.
When he reached the table, he set one of the two cups in front of her and kept the other in hand as he sat across from her.
Marti tasted her coffee and waited—he’d asked for this meeting, it was his show.
“I’m sorry about not working at the house today,” he began. “And for not answering the voice mails.”
Marti merely nodded.
“I had a lot of thinking—and some other things—to do after…the news I left with last night.”
There was nothing to be said to that so she just went on waiting.
“I don’t…” he began, stopped, restarted. “It occurred to me when your brothers said you were pregnant Friday that I could be…the cause. Not right away—I was actually slow on the uptake. But then I realized that it was a possibility. So I don’t know why it hit me like a ton of bricks last night when you said the baby is mine, but it did.”
“It has a way of doing that,” she allowed conservatively.
“I paced the floors most of the night and then today I went to see my lawyer—”
“Your lawyer?” she repeated, cutting him off as her mind started to race again.
Was he going to demand proof? A paternity test? What exactly was he implying about her? And if he had proof, would he be willing—reluctantly—to concede to being this baby’s father?
“Look,” Marti said then, ire echoing in her tone, “until I just happened to meet you again on Friday, I fully intended to do this on my own. I don’t want anything from you. I don’t need anything from you. If you want to tell yourself this baby isn’t yours, if that makes it easier for you, then be my guest. As far as I’m concerned—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Noah said in an angry tone of his own to go with the dark frown on his handsome face. “Who said anything about me wanting to think it isn’t mine?”
“Isn’t that why you went to a lawyer? To force some kind of paternity test in hopes that you aren’t the father?”
“That didn’t even cross my mind. Should it have?”
“No. There have only been two men on my dance card—the man I should be married to right now and you.”
That had probably not been the best way to put that and the minute the words were out, Marti regretted them. This was all just so hard and complicated.
But Noah didn’t seem to take offense. In fact, he did the opposite—his temper seemed to recede and in its place he became conciliatory.
“I’m not questioning whether or not the baby is mine. The timing is right. I don’t remember a whole lot about that night but I do remember that we were drunk enough to take the risk of not using protection. You’d already told that artificial insemination story to your brothers—I don’t think you would have done that if the father was someone you know or were involved with. And another one of the few things I recall is you saying more than once that night in Denver how that wasn’t something you’d ever done or ever did—and that struck me as true. Plus, while I don’t know much about you, what I’ve seen doesn’t make me think that you’re someone who would try to pass off someone else’s kid on me.”
Apparently he thought higher of her than she’d been thinking of him in the last several hours. It helped Marti to calm down slightly.
“Thanks for that at least,” she said. “And I didn’t faint on Friday, it was—”
“I know, it was a dizzy spell,” he said with the first hint of a genuine smile—and it was only a hint. “But when I saw you go down I thought you’d passed out.”
They both sipped their coffees and after a brief pause, Marti said, “So why did you go to a lawyer today?”
“To find out what I needed to do to protect my rights.”
“Your rights?”
“As the father. I’m not trying to figure a way out of this, Marti. I want to make sure I have a firm footing in it.”
That surprised her.
And then it alarmed her. In her wildest dreams she hadn’t thought there was any risk of the father of this baby doing anything that might take it away from her in some fashion.
“What does that mean?” she asked in a quiet voice.
“This is a big deal to me,” he said with enough gravity that she didn’t need any more convincing to believe he wasn’t taking this lightly. In fact, he said it with so much gravity that it made her wonder if there was more motivating him than she knew.
But he was still talking and this was all too important for her to let her mind wander.
“I realize that I’m as responsible for this as you are,” he was saying. “And I’m not one of those people who can ignore that I’ll have a kid floating around out in the world and just go on about my business as if I don’t. There’s no way I’d let you go through this alone, and once the baby is here, I want to be a father to it. I want to be a part of its life.”
“Okay…” Marti agreed with reservation because she still wasn’t sure exactly where he was going with this. “What did you have in mind?”
“First of all—I want to know that you aren’t going to have an abor—”
“No,” she said firmly. “I’m having the baby.”
“Great.” Noah looked relieved.
“And second of all?” she said.
His face broke into a bigger and even more genuine smile. “As long as there is going to be a baby, second of all becomes first of all—I’d like it if we could back things up and get to know each other.”
“And you need a lawyer for that?”
“I wasn’t sure if I should try to get something in writing—like a custody agreement that would guarantee that I could be a part of things. But I was in the lawyer’s office, going through possibilities in that direction and everything he was asking me seemed to set such a hostile tone. That’s not what I want, Marti. Not for you or for me or for the baby. So I thought maybe we could go at this another way and start where we
should have started before.”
So he wasn’t talking any of the extremes her imagination had taken her to—he wasn’t turning his back on her and fatherhood, and he wasn’t thinking about making some kind of power play to take her baby away from her.
And yet she still felt compelled to say, “That’s it—just get to know each other?”
“That’s it. For now. We have nine months—”
“Seven and a half.”
“We have seven and a half months, and then, when the baby is here, we can hash through it from there.”
That was slightly unnerving—she hadn’t even had the baby yet and she didn’t want to think about shared custody or visitation or anything else he was talking about.
But seven and a half months was a long time, she told herself. And he was right, the best first step was for them to simply get to know each other. She would deal with the rest when the time came. For now it just helped that he was proving to be a stand-up guy. And the fact that he was taking his share of the responsibility for the baby, that he was treating it like something he wanted to be included in, helped it seem more like what she’d been trying to see it as since she’d decided to go through with it—an unplanned pregnancy that could be looked at for its positives rather than its negatives. And handled with some dignity. And she was grateful for that.
Besides, deep down Marti had to admit that a tiny part of her was relieved that she wouldn’t have to go through this completely on her own. Because as much as she knew she could depend on her brothers, there was only so much she knew she could ask of them.
“Okay,” she said, not realizing until she had that a long silence had passed while she’d thought things through.
“Okay?” Noah repeated hopefully.
“I think you’re right, us getting to know each other does make sense at this point. And I’m in Northbridge for a while, you’re working on the house, we’ll be right under each other’s noses—what better time?”
A Baby for the Bachelor Page 4