The Best Man's Baby

by Victoria James

  “And then we created a life, and God, we did it all backward, but the only thing I would have changed in all of this is the pain I caused you from not telling you everything at the beginning,” he said, his eyes sparkling with emotion.

  Claire stepped closer to him until she could feel the heat from his body, smell the fresh scent of his cologne, of him. “I’m glad you told me.”

  He drew his brows together. “Do you ever think there is a reason for everything?”

  She shook her head pityingly. “You’ve been getting advice from Holly, haven’t you?”

  Jake smiled before growing serious. “No. A long time ago, I met a man who took me in and showed me I wasn’t worthless. He saved me.”

  Claire’s heart started aching as she heard the emotion, as he spoke of his relationship with her father.

  “And now, years later I fall in love with you, his daughter, and you save me,” he said thickly. His eyes searched hers. She blinked rapidly, past the tears that pooled in her eyes. “This baby we made was meant to be,” he said, his eyes drifting from hers, to her abdomen, back up to meet her stare. “The other night I wanted to tell you what you needed to hear, but I needed to be sure I could be the man you deserved. I told my brothers everything. I wanted to start with a clean slate. I didn’t want our future to be tainted by the past anymore. I wanted to be as whole as I could be. I love you, Claire.”

  She walked into his arms and was crushed gently against his chest. She felt his hands in her hair, felt his lips on her head. She felt his heart, pounding rapidly against her ears. And she felt his heart bind itself to hers. She had his heart. And he had hers.

  “I love you too,” she said, lifting her face to meet his waiting lips. He kissed her with a passion she could taste and a promise she trusted. Jake leaned back against the car, pulling her with him as his mouth slanted over hers, as though he were incapable of letting go. Claire was vaguely aware of Mrs. Jacobs’s Mini Cooper slowing, beeping, and then zooming past them.

  “I love you more than I ever thought I was capable of loving someone,” Jake whispered into her ear.

  “I know the feeling.”

  “And I was wrong about something else.”

  “Really?”

  “I’d wear a tux for you. And for the record, I so deserved that pregnancy stick in my burger.”

  Epilogue

  Jake trod softly through the darkened hospital room, wincing as the paper bag of takeout crinkled when he placed it on the small dresser beside the bouquet of pink roses. His eyes darted over to Claire, who still slept soundly. He paused for a moment in the middle of the small room, heavy emotion anchoring his feet to the ground. His eyes went to his wife, who looked tired and pale, but still lovely. And then his eyes went to their son, who was beginning to stir in the bassinet beside the bed.

  Jake had been a father for less than twenty-four hours, and a husband less than a year, but there were a few things he was already certain of. There wasn’t anything greater than the love he felt for Claire or his son. He also knew the two people in this room had changed him profoundly. Their son didn’t know it yet, but he’d blessed Jake and Claire with an even deeper love. The very knowledge of his existence had spurred Jake to heal the pain of his past, and his arrival had entrenched the need for him to be the best man he could be.

  He approached the bassinet when Michael Holbrook Manning’s sturdy arm wrenched itself free of the blue swaddling blanket. Jake paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and then reached out to pick up his son. And that strange, thrilling emotion pummeled through his body as he gathered the baby in his arms. He slowly rocked him back and forth as the nurse had shown him hours earlier, and gently tucked the blanket around Michael again, fixed the little knit hat, and looked at him. He could do this all day, he thought.

  As Michael drifted back to sleep in his arms, Jake admired his son. His eyes wandered over the tuft of dark hair peeking out from under the hat, the full, round cheeks, and the bright-blue eyes that blinked once before finally shutting. He felt the innocence, the purity, the perfection in his small body, and he wondered how anyone could ever blame a baby for anything. There would be nothing anyone could ever say to him that would change his love for his child. He knew with every breath he took that Michael would be loved by him and Claire unconditionally. He walked over to the window, careful not to jar his son awake, and looked outside at the snow-covered ground.

  …

  Claire opened her eyes, slowly emerging from a deep sleep, vaguely aware Jake was in the room. She didn’t say anything when she spotted Jake standing next to the window, Michael in his arms, wanting to enjoy the beautiful sight of them for a moment. Her throat tightened with emotion as she watched her men together. Jake bent to kiss their son so gently she wondered how she could have ever doubted his ability to be a father.

  Michael Holbrook Manning, named after her father, had entered the world in the wee hours of the night, and already bore a striking resemblance to Jake.

  Her parents had been the first to visit this morning, bringing a bouquet of white and yellow tulips. They had finished their work in Africa and had been home for the final few weeks of her pregnancy. It was the nicest moment she’d ever shared with her mother when she’d handed over little Michael for her mother to hold. And the tears in her father’s eyes when she’d told him that they had named their son after him made it very clear how honored he was.

  She continued to admire Jake from the hospital bed. He had obviously gone home and showered after their long night at the hospital. His light-blue crew neck was a startling contrast to his bronzed skin, and she knew exactly what that color did to his eyes.

  “Hi,” Claire called out softly. She smiled as Jake turned around and walked over to her.

  “Hey, I hope I didn’t wake you,” he whispered gruffly, and leaned down for a gentle kiss before sitting on the edge of the bed.

  “No,” she said, peeking at Michael, who slept soundly. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he?”

  Jake nodded. “I still can’t believe we’re here. And he’s here.” The tenderness in his handsome face took her breath away as she watched him look from her to their son.

  “He’s so perfect. I feel so blessed,” she said, emotion tightening her throat again.

  “We are blessed,” he agreed, looking at Michael again. “How are you feeling?”

  “Let’s just say the euphoria of Michael being here, combined with whatever drug cocktail the nurses have me on, is making me feel pretty good.”

  She saw the worry in Jake’s eyes and waved her hand. “Seriously, I’m fine. Who would have thought your one night of seduction could lead to us getting married and having a baby?”

  Jake’s eyes sparkled. “Uh, who seduced who?”

  “Details, details.”

  “For the record, you can seduce me anytime, baby,” he said gruffly. “Oh, before I forget, I brought you a coffee,” Jake said, slowly standing and walking to the dresser. Claire noticed the ease with which he moved, even with the baby in his arms.

  “Coffee. Have I told you how much I love you? I have been waiting months for this day.” She sighed as he handed her a paper cup.

  “Yeah, I believe I owe you a coffee, don’t I?” His eyes locked with hers and Claire remembered. How long ago that night seemed. Jake had been almost a stranger to her, more fantasy than a reality. They had been on a journey of discovery together.

  “It was all worth it.”

  Jake nodded, somehow looking even more attractive to her now, unshaven and tired, than ever before. He had layers to him she never could have imagined and a gentleness that always amazed her. In the last seven months, he had proven to her every day how important she was to him. He had worked tirelessly on their home, determined to have everything ready before the baby arrived. With Holly’s help, the old Victorian house had been restored to its former glory. It reflected their personalities and it exuded the warmth of a happy family home, something neither of them had as ch
ildren.

  “So any idea when we can leave this place?” Claire said, taking a sip of coffee and sighing with unbridled delight at the flavor. She was desperate to get out of the uncomfortable hospital bed and tiny room.

  Jake shook his head.

  Claire groaned. She was dying to get home and begin their new life together. The nursery was decorated in yellows and greens and was connected to their bedroom, all ready for their return home.

  “Have you heard from your family?” she asked.

  “Early this morning. The whole brood came by a while after your mother left, but you were sleeping and I told them to come back in a couple hours,” Jake said.

  “I didn’t hear anything.”

  “Yeah, I figured if the noise they were making didn’t wake you, you should sleep. Evan flew in last night.”

  “How is he doing?”

  Jake shook his head. “You know Evan. He’s pretending he’s fine, but I know he’s going crazy inside. The damage to his arm and hand is pretty bad. He doesn’t look any better now than he did last month.”

  “I feel so bad for him. What a freak accident,” Claire said, thinking of the car crash he’d been involved in.

  “He hasn’t said anything, but it’s not looking like he’ll ever be able to operate again,” Jake said, voice trailing off as he looked over to the door. Claire heard voices coming from the corridor too. There was a knock followed by the exuberant entry of Quinn, Holly, Ella, and Evan.

  Little Ella immediately wanted to be held by Jake, and Jake obliged, gently handing Michael over to Claire.

  Holly gave a muffled squeal, jumping up and down. “Congratulations, I’m so happy for you guys,” she whispered. Holly raced over to Claire’s side, giving her a big hug, and then looked at the baby.

  “Claire, congratulations,” Evan said, bending down to give her a kiss. He reached out to touch the baby’s face with his right hand and then quickly lowered it, stuffing it back into the pocket of his jeans, but not before Claire saw the blistering, red scars, the tremor in the hand that should have been steady. She pretended not to notice, knowing he wouldn’t want her pity.

  “Thank you, Evan,” she whispered, looking into his blue eyes, so similar to Jake’s. She saw the pain in them and almost felt guilty for being so happy.

  “Congratulations, he’s a beautiful baby. Looks nothing like Jake,” Quinn said, breaking the tension, making her laugh as he gave her a kiss. She loved her brothers-in-law. They had welcomed her into the family with such warmth that she immediately felt like part of the group.

  “You’re really funny, Quinn,” Jake said, smiling. Claire laughed, her eyes filling with tears as her friends and family filled the room. Michael would know how very much he was loved, Claire thought as everyone’s excited, hushed voices bounced around.

  “Okay, I must officially say this is the cutest little boy I have ever seen,” announced Holly in a theatrical whisper, as she held out her arms. Claire handed her best friend the precious sleeping bundle. “And, I’m going to say it. Only once, but I’m going to say it. I told you so,” Holly announced smugly, looking around the room, making sure she had everyone’s attention.

  Claire raised her eyebrows, waiting for her friend to continue.

  “I told you everything happens for a reason and…”

  In the midst of the chaos, in the midst of Evan cutting into Holly’s speech, Jake handed Ella over to her dad and leaned forward, smoothing the hair from Claire’s face, his lips hovering a few inches from hers, and Claire’s heart still skipped with glee and excitement at his nearness, at the feeling glittering in his eyes. “I love you more than you’ll ever know, Claire,” he said, bending down to capture her lips in a sweet, gentle kiss.

  She looked into his eyes, knowing she had found the best man she could have ever dreamed of. Claire smiled. “I know how much I’m loved. I know it every day I’m with you, Jake. You’ve made all my dreams come true,” she said, her chest tightening as she watched her husband’s eyes become clouded with emotion before he kissed her again.

  Look for Evan Manning’s story in Indulgence this winter, book three in the Red River Series! We even have a sneak peek for you.

  … turn the page!

  Prologue

  Grace Matheson needed to grow up.

  It was time to face the facts—she couldn’t be a single mom, hold down a job, and pursue her dreams of becoming an artist. Her paintings weren’t bringing in any money, so she couldn’t afford to spend the time on them anymore.

  “I promise it will never happen again. My babysitter canceled at the last minute and I had no one to watch my son,” she whispered into her phone. Her eyes focused on the road ahead, cringing as the office manager gave a long sigh on the other end of the line.

  She cursed herself for staying awake almost the entire night to finish a painting. When she’d finally stumbled to bed at five in the morning, she’d forgotten to set her alarm, and had woken up two hours late for work, in a complete panic.

  “Grace, this is the last time. I think you’re a very nice person, but I need a reliable receptionist in Dr. Harris’s office. One more chance. We’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

  “Thank you, Cynthia.” She breathed a long sigh of relief, easing her foot off the gas as she approached the turnoff to the highway. Her heart squeezed painfully as she glanced in her rearview mirror at her son, who was sleeping soundly. Being a single mother was harder than she ever could have imagined, and she’d naively thought she could still pursue her art, hold down a job, and take care of her son. Christopher had never been planned, but there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he was her first priority.

  She looked away from the rearview mirror to the road ahead, just in time to see the eighteen-wheeler take the highway on-ramp too fast directly in front of her. Her heart slammed up against her ribs with the painful realization that she wouldn’t be able to get out of the way in time. She pounded the brakes and veered the steering wheel to the left.

  Her car, the truck, the road, blurred and slowed until they floated in only a silent, throbbing bubble. The ominous, thunderous drone of the truck turning on its side and slamming onto the road, mingling with Christopher’s shrill cry, were the last sounds she heard before everything turned black.

  Voices, no, a voice was calling her. Where was she?

  “I’m going to get you out of here, sweetheart. Can you hear me?” the voice whispered again. It was familiar. It was gruff, strained and filled with…worry. It was a man’s voice. She tried to lift her head to nod, but it was as though she were trying to lift a sandbag. Sirens hummed in the distance, slicing through the fogginess that held her mind captive.

  “Mommy,” whimpered a voice she knew instinctively, and kicked her adrenaline into high gear.

  “Christopher,” she tried to yell, but her voice only made a soft whisper. She needed to get to her son.

  “He’s fine. He’s going to be okay,” the man said again. The reassurance was all she had to cling to. There was shuffling. Christopher was whimpering and she struggled to push against whatever it was that was pinning her down.

  “Where are we?” She tried to blink, but whenever she opened her eyes they burned. She squeezed them shut and tried to breath but her lungs were heavy. Smoke. There was smoke.

  “You were in a car accident. Help is on the way. I’ve got you and your son almost out, okay? I need you stay calm and just do as I say. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Grace,” the man said. His hands reached across her waist and she felt him tug. Strong arms moved across her body as he pulled at the seat belt. There was something about him, a familiarity. She tried to stay awake, to open her eyes, but it was useless.

  “The car is filled with smoke and that truck is going to light up. We’ve got to get out of here. Can you move?” he asked as he continued to pull the seat belt. Adrenaline and panic raced through her and she prayed for strength as she tried to move, to lift her limbs. Nothing moved. Or worked.
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br />   “Mommy,” Christopher cried and then coughed. He needed to get out of the car. She needed to save her child.

  “Christopher, it’s okay, Mommy is here,” she said, willing her voice not to waver.

  “Just get my son out, okay? I’ll be fine. Get him out,” she whispered, the man’s head hunched close to hers.

  “I’m getting you both out,” the man said, his voice rough and sure. There was strength in it.

  “Get him out. Promise me—”

  “Are you sure you don’t feel anything?” he asked again, ignoring her plea and pulling on her seat belt again. Her seat belt finally unlatched and she felt his sigh. “Got it. I want to wait for the paramedics to get here before I move you. I don’t know how long we have. Your car is sitting right under the truck.”

  Panic swam through her body. The smoke was thick and she began coughing. Everything ached and she fought desperately to stay awake.

  “I’m going to get you out of here, sweetheart.”

  “Mommy,” Christopher cried and then coughed, the fear in his little voice jarring her back to the present.

  “We’re going, just hold on.” She forced the words out of her mouth, trying to sound strong. Maybe she could close her eyes for a minute.

  Seconds later, minutes later, hands were lifting her. Voices were talking. She listened for the man’s voice. There were different voices. Something about a fire and getting out. Grace struggled to break through the fog in her head, and the sleep that was drowning her, the heat that was stifling her voice. Christopher. Where was Christopher? The man?

  “Christopher,” she tried to yell as her body landed on something soft and cool.

  “He’s coming,” a woman’s voice said as she placed something hard against her neck.

  Her son’s shrill, distraught scream mingled with a man’s roar of pain shot through the haze she was engulfed in. Her eyes sprung open and a striking blaze of orange was all she saw until sleep claimed her.