A Baby for the Bachelor

by Victoria Pade

  “In what way?”

  “Well, for starters, you aren’t sixteen. And while I’m guessing you’d like nothing better than to have a second chance for a future with Jack—that was his name, right?”

  Marti nodded.

  “While I’m guessing that you’d like nothing better than to have a second chance for a future with him, that isn’t possible. And as for the others…” He paused with a mischievous quirk in the half smile he shot at her. “You’re more the America’s-Sweetheart type than beer-drinking pool shark—I dated one of those and caught her kissing another guy in a coatroom. And as far as I’ve seen, you aren’t so obsessed with your career that you take your cell phone into the shower with you and call me by your male assistant’s name at inopportune moments—”

  “You dated one of those,” she added for him. She could tell he was using the summary of his experiences with other women to lighten the tone and she welcomed it.

  “You don’t have six dogs, three cats, four birds, a ferret and a pet iguana running around…do you?” he went on.

  “No,” she laughed.

  “And you had your chance to steal my wallet off the bureau in the bedroom when I showed you around, but you didn’t.”

  Marti laughed again. “You do have bad taste in women,” she teased.

  “There were some nice ones, too. Those were just the highlights,” he said with enough mischief in his smile now to make her wonder if any of it had been true.

  Then he leaned far enough over to reach her arm and pull her to stand in front of him.

  “I think my taste in women improved considerably in Denver a couple of months ago,” he said as if he were telling her something she hadn’t been involved in. “While I was there I met this beautiful blonde with big silver-blue eyes and skin like velvet. She had a little too much to drink and so did I—enough to make me kind of reckless. She let me carry her away but I knew it wasn’t something she usually did. I could tell she was a good girl. And she was smart and sweet and independent and a little sassy and kinda funny—”

  “She sounds great,” Marti joked because as nice as everything he said was, it was beginning to embarrass her.

  “I think she might be,” he said in a more intimate tone as his dark brown eyes held hers. Then he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

  In the unexpectedness of that kiss, her hands landed on his chest and that was where they stayed—braced by that wall of muscle she’d been admiring—as her mouth responded.

  His lips parted and hers did, too—right from the start they were in sync. So much so that when his tongue came to call, hers was there ready and waiting to play.

  His arms circled her, his hands clasped low on her back to pull her closer. Close enough that she was very nearly leaning against the long, massive leg that wasn’t up on the railing. And while Marti fought the urge, it ran through her mind to straddle that leg. Just a little…

  She didn’t do it, though. She just went on kissing him back, accepting his urging to open her mouth wider, meeting his tongue and letting her own give as good as it was getting.

  A soft breeze wafted around them and Marti wasn’t sure if it was as cool as it felt on the bare skin of her arms and shoulders, or if she was just feeling some internal heat that made it seem that way. But what she did know was that her senses were coming alive with that kiss as she fell deeper into it.

  There was an art to what he could do with that tongue, she decided as he kept at it, going from playful to teasing, from teasing to tempting, from tempting to something that was so sensual, so seductive that things were awakening inside of her that almost surprised her.

  Breasts that had been sore were suddenly feeling no pain as they strained against the knit of her camisole. Her hands itched to know more than his chest, and again—the urge stronger now—she wanted to straddle that thick thigh of his…

  It was only her hands she gave in to, though, letting them course outward to those remarkable biceps, riding their swells to his broad shoulders, to his strong neck and around.

  One hand went to his nape while the other went to his back—every bit as solid and powerful as she’d imagined it would be.

  His mouth was wide open over hers; his tongue tantalized and taunted with thrusts that made her think of things other than kissing.

  He unclasped his hands and laid them flat against her back, his fingers pressed into her flesh and brought her nearer still so that her breasts met his chest. Just barely, and yet it was enough for her nipples to tighten more than she’d ever felt them tighten before. Enough to make that yearning in her body intensify beyond belief.

  Her mouth opened even wider beneath his and her tongue did some thrusting of its own in a boldness that surprised her.

  Maybe he’d taken that as a sign because one of his hands began to travel. From her back to her side. To the swell of her breast…

  He paused there and she knew why. She knew that if she didn’t want him to come the rest of the way around, he was giving her the chance to stop him.

  But she didn’t.

  He was gentle and yet forceful. Marti felt herself expand within his grasp, flourish and strive and strain for more, hating those layers of knit that kept her from knowing the unmarred touch of his work-toughened skin.

  He was kissing her with an ever-growing need and so maybe it was a craving of his own that slipped his hand up and underneath her top. But Marti wasn’t the only one of them to breathe a hot gust of excited breath when skin finally met skin.

  If the feel of that kneading, caressing hand on her breast had been wonderful before, it was nothing compared to this! She’d never felt anything as good and the quiet moan that escaped her throat, the arch of her back, the diamond-hard cresting of her nipple into his palm must have let him know because he was plundering her mouth with his tongue and his arm around her pulled her up against him so tight that she had no choice but to do that one thing she’d been trying not to give in to—his leg came between hers.

  And when it did he bent his knee. Only enough to bring his thick thigh up against her and teach her that it wasn’t only her breasts that pregnancy had made more keenly sensitive…

  He hadn’t been lying when he’d said there wasn’t much furniture in his house. But there was a bed in his bedroom—she’d seen it. And suddenly that was all she could think about—having him take her there, tearing off his clothes, letting him tear off hers, making love that wouldn’t only be a vague, hazy memory that didn’t seem like it had really happened.

  Should she or shouldn’t she?

  Should she or shouldn’t she…

  Oh, how she wanted to!

  She pressed a little more on his leg.

  He raised that thigh a little more to meet her.

  They’d already spent one night together—even if she couldn’t really remember it, it had happened. They were having a baby to prove it. Why couldn’t she have another night with him…

  But it was the thought of that baby that put a damper on things for her.

  That baby was their only real tie, she thought suddenly. Their only real connection.

  If not for that baby, they wouldn’t be here at all, let alone like this. And maybe that wasn’t enough to let this happen again.

  This time when her hands moved on their own it was to his chest to push herself away from that kiss, from him.

  He got the message, too, and his hands dropped to her hips. “If you’re not comfortable, there are a few alternatives to being out on the deck,” he said with a nod toward the house.

  Marti sighed. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  “You’re afraid of me?” he asked, his voice deep and ragged. “Because you know there’s nothing to be afraid of here.”

  She did know that. “Maybe I’m afraid of myself,” she confessed quietly.

  Noah’s dark eyes searched hers for a long while and she thought he knew that it wouldn’t take much persuasion for her to change her mind.

  Bu
t in the end he respected her wishes and just nodded.

  He also used his hands at her hips to move her farther away from him before he dropped his foot to the floor and took a very deep breath.

  “So…” he said on the exhale. “Chess? Checkers? Scrabble? A movie? What can I interest you in if not me?”

  Marti smiled. “It’s getting late, I think I should head for home.” Especially since she was sure that if she stayed for any reason she wasn’t going to be able to resist him.

  He nodded again and merely followed her as she took the lead to leave.

  He walked her to her car but Marti made certain not to take long getting in because she knew if she let him kiss her again she’d be lost.

  He closed the door after she’d gotten behind the wheel and with both hands hooked over the open window, he peered in at her.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.

  “You’re working on a Saturday?” she asked, relieved to hear it because it had just occurred to her that she didn’t know when she was going to see him again.

  “My boss is tough,” he joked.

  “I’ve heard that,” she said facetiously, hoping he might kiss her again in spite of the fact that she’d given him every indication that he wasn’t supposed to.

  But then he shoved off the SUV and hit the roof.

  “Tomorrow,” he said.

  Marti took a turn at nodding. “Tomorrow,” she countered, starting the engine and putting it into gear even as she was willing him to lunge through that window, to kiss her just once more…

  She even tipped her chin to look at him, to give him the opportunity, to let him know she was having second thoughts about leaving.

  But rather than stepping forward, Noah stepped back, getting out of the way.

  Marti merely smiled a smile she hoped didn’t show her second thoughts or her regrets, and let the SUV roll slowly in reverse.

  And even though he waved goodbye to her, she had the feeling that he was working out some frustration.

  Or maybe it was her own frustration that made it seem like that.

  Because what she really wanted to do was forget everything else and let him take her to bed again after all.

  Chapter Eleven

  “O h! Noah! Come quick!”

  “It’s all right, Gram. It’s nothing…” Marti tried to assure her grandmother Saturday night when a bad dizzy spell turned the room upside down and caused Marti’s knees to buckle. She’d stumbled against the coffee table, reeled around and ended up sitting on it, in the middle of the game they’d been playing.

  But despite Marti’s attempts to keep her grandmother from being frightened, Theresa went on shouting frantically for Noah who came running from the kitchen.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing,” Marti said unconvincingly as she suffered through the awful light-headedness and nausea and inability to see straight.

  “Something is wrong!” Theresa insisted. “Look at her! She dropped the dice and got up to get them and all of a sudden her face went pale and she sat right on the Monopoly board! She’s sick!”

  “I’m not sick…”

  Noah dropped down onto his haunches in front of her and took her hands in his. She could focus just enough to see that he was concerned but calm and in control, ready to do whatever needed to be done.

  “Dizzy,” Marti confided in him to let him know there was nothing that needed to be done. “Scared Gram. But really…nothing…”

  “What can I do for you? How about a glass of water? Do you want to lie down?” he asked as Theresa began to rock back and forth in a frenzy.

  “It’ll pass. Take care of Gram,” Marti said even though she liked having Noah there for her. But Theresa had had a particularly bad day. She’d been disoriented and depressed, she’d refused to eat, she’d sobbed through most of the afternoon. It was why Marti had had to turn down Noah’s invitation to the Spring Fling dance in town tonight. Why—together with Mary Pat—they’d all been trying to keep Theresa occupied. It was even why Mary Pat had gone to get ice cream when Theresa had asked if they had any in the house—every effort was being made to pull Theresa out of a worse-than-usual funk and Marti knew alarming her easily excitable, fearful grandmother was not going to aid that cause.

  “Really, I’m okay,” she told Noah when he stayed with her.

  He hesitated a moment more but then took Marti at her word, squeezed her hand and stood to deal with her grandmother.

  “It’s okay, Theresa. Marti just got a little dizzy. She must have stood up too fast—you’ve done that before, haven’t you?” he said in a voice that made light of the situation.

  But apparently Theresa wasn’t convinced. “I think she’s sick,” the older woman insisted, her agitation clearly growing. “Should we call a doctor? Should you take her to the hospital? Mary Pat is a nurse. She would know!”

  “Mary Pat just went for ice cream, remember? She felt like getting a little air while we finished our game,” Noah reminded her. “She’ll be back any time and until then, I don’t think we need a doctor or—”

  “Gram, it’s all right,” Marti managed when Theresa was not reassured. “I’m pregnant,” she added, hoping that rather than upsetting her grandmother more, the news might alleviate some of the fretfulness and worry for Marti’s health. “The baby just makes me dizzy sometimes. It’ll pass. It always does.”

  There was silence in the room for a moment and although Marti was still having some difficulty seeing, she knew she’d stunned her grandmother.

  Then, just as the vertigo began to pass, Marti heard Theresa say, “You’re going to have a baby? But you aren’t married, are you?”

  Marti swallowed hard. “No, you’re right, I’m not married,” she confirmed because she could hear that Theresa was becoming muddled.

  “It’s Hector again, isn’t it?” Theresa said in even more panic and confusion. “Don’t let him take your baby, Marti! Don’t listen to him! He says he loves you but he won’t leave his wife. He says take the money and go somewhere where no one will ever know but if you let him take the baby you’ll be sorry! You’ll never even know if it’s a boy or a girl or where it is or what happened to it! You’ll be so sorry! So sorry, Marti…”

  It was Marti’s turn to be stunned. And maybe that was what made the dizziness hit her again. Or maybe it was the regret for having set Theresa off even if it had finally revealed some of what Theresa had been refusing to tell anyone until now.

  All Marti could get out in response was another “Gram…” before she had to stop because a wave of nausea threatened and her head was so light she started to worry that she was going to faint.

  Noah must have realized she’d relapsed because he put a steadying hand on her shoulder and said, “Take a deep breath. Can you put your head between your knees?”

  She recoiled at the suggestion because she knew if she tried to put her head between her knees she really would lose her dinner. “I’m fine,” she barely whispered. “Just take care of Gram. Get her out of here, maybe…”

  “You’re sure?” he asked dubiously.

  Marti nodded. “Go.”

  Noah squeezed her shoulder this time and she heard him say, “You know what, Theresa? I hung your porch swing and you still haven’t been out to see it. It’s late and there’s no one around and it’s nice outside—why don’t you and I go take a look at it now and just let Marti relax a little?”

  “But the baby! Hector—”

  “I’m gonna tell you a secret.”

  Through her skewed vision, Marti saw him take her grandmother’s hand and place it in the crook of his elbow where he kept his own hand over it. He leaned close to Theresa’s ear.

  “Marti’s baby is mine,” he confided. “Hector doesn’t have anything to do with it and I won’t let him anywhere near it.”

  His voice was soothing and it wasn’t only Theresa it was helping. Marti’s dizziness began to let up, too.

  “But what about my
baby, Noah?” Theresa asked pitifully. “Can you make Hector tell you what he did with it? I want it back. That’s why I came home here—to get back my baby that Hector took.”

  “You know, Theresa, I understand how horrible that was for you. How you feel—”

  “You do?”

  “I honestly do. And I promise you that I’ll help Marti and Ry and Wyatt do whatever it takes to make it right for you. But we can’t do anything tonight. So let’s just go out on the porch and see your swing, and give Marti a minute to take some deep breaths and settle down a little. Then I’ll bet she’ll come out and sit with us. What do you say?”

  Theresa rarely went out of the house and there was hesitation now.

  But just as Marti was sure a refusal was coming, her grandmother seemed to gain some semblance of peace and said, “I did always love having a porch swing.”

  “I know. You told me last week—remember? That’s why I put it up. I’d have my feelings hurt if you didn’t go out and at least take a look at it.”

  And to Marti’s amazement, her grandmother went outside with Noah.

  An hour after Marti’s dizzy spell on Saturday night—and her impromptu announcement to her grandmother that she was pregnant—her symptoms were gone. She felt fine.

  She’d dished out ice cream when Mary Pat brought it home, then helped her grandmother’s nurse get Theresa settled in for bed, and said good-night to Mary Pat, who had gone to bed, too.

  So as Marti returned to the porch, all was calm and quiet.

  And Noah was waiting patiently for her.

  “Are you mad at me?” he asked as soon as she went out the front door.

  He was sitting crossways on the wooden swing that he’d used to lure her grandmother from the house. One long, jean-clad leg ran the length of the seat while his other foot was flat on the porch floor. His arms were stretched along the top of the seat back and side so that the white shirt he was wearing, with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, was smooth across his perfect torso.

  “Mad at you? Are you kidding?” she asked as she went to the swing where she swept into a mock curtsy. “I bow to your greatness—how you actually had my grandmother laughing by the time I got out here earlier is a mystery. What would I be mad at you for after that?”