“You do when they involve my child,” he said flatly. Her gaze met his and he had to look away to avoid that soul-reading quality he’d felt their one night together.
After a pause, he glanced toward the little crowd of children and asked, “Are you taking care of it? Of yourself?”
For the first time, she looked almost indignant. “Of course I am. I have an appointment this afternoon.”
“Good.” He nodded. “I’ll go with you.”
“You will not.” She practically glared at him, her hand resting protectively on her stomach. “And don’t call my baby it. He or she is a person.”
“Tawny—” he started, but she shook her head, apparently finding her footing at last.
“Listen, nothing has to change just because you know about the baby now.” She stood, her hand still planted firmly on her stomach. “You have a life to lead, dreams to follow. I can raise this baby on my own and take good care of him or her. You don’t have to concern yourself with us. Go. Live your life, Luke.”
She started toward the sidewalk and he considered her words. If he hadn’t seen her today, he never would have known about his baby. He might have gone on, opened his bike shop, lived his life.
After all, she’d made it more than a little clear how uninvolved she wanted him to be. But then…
He pictured his brother, giggling in his playpen. Then, behind him, he could hear another trill of laughter as the kids chased each other around the playground.
Could he really go his entire life not knowing his own child? The way his own biological parents probably had done? And what if something happened to Tawny? Then his child would be just another foster kid. Just like him. What were the chances his kid would luck out the way he did?
Tawny reached her sensible sedan and he watched as she climbed into the driver’s seat while Suzette slid in beside her. The two women hadn’t spoken, but he could guess what they were going to discuss for the rest of the day, and Tawny’s last words echoed through his mind.
I can raise this baby on my own and take good care of him or her. You don’t have to concern yourself with us. Go. Live your life.
Only, going wasn’t an option. Not anymore. Maybe he wouldn’t have chosen fatherhood at this point in his life, but fatherhood had chosen him.
And he wasn’t going to let Tawny keep his baby from him without a fight.
Chapter 9
Tawny blinked, her throat tight as she stared at the screen.
The gentle thrum from the monitor was too incredible for her to believe, and her heart swelled as tears pricked the back of her eyes and threatened to cascade down her cheeks.
Before, she'd had so much to plan, so many theories of how things might be. But now? Now this thing, this entity she'd been anticipating had a steady, thrumming heartbeat and was moving inside her. He or she, they were a person. Her very own little person.
"Would you like to know the gender of the baby?" the nurse asked, rolling the wand over her tummy, and Tawny swallowed hard again.
"Oh, I almost forgot. I...yes, please." She nodded and the woman grinned back at her.
"Congratulations. It's a little boy."
"A boy," Tawny repeated, and she couldn't bring herself to tear her gaze from the little outline of a person on the screen. From the little face--no, from his little face. Her little boy.
Now she had to shop for little blue clothes and tiny blue binkies. Then there was no holding back any longer. She was weeping, full fat tears rolling down her cheeks, into her hair, and onto the medical tissue behind her head.
She'd had four months to prepare herself and still, somehow this was the first time it had all seemed real. She was going to be someone's mother. She was having a baby.
The monitor switched off and the nurse rolled her chair across the room, filling out something on her iPad before retrieving something from the ultrasound machine.
"Pictures of your little guy,” she said, then held them out to Tawny.
With a shaking hand, Tawny took them and stared back at the white outline that was her little boy. She couldn’t wait to show Suzette.
Vaguely, she wondered if he might look like Luke. Hoped that, maybe, he might have her own thick hair with Luke's stunning blue eyes. Those eyes that had looked so hurt and confused when they'd fallen on her and seen the new, sloping roundness of her belly.
No, this wasn't the time to think about that, though. Now, she was going to think about the new life inside of her. No matter what he looked like, he was bound to be wonderful. Bound to be so much more than she could ever dream.
"Thank you so much," she choked.
The nurse nodded. "It's a very special time. Now, I think you've already made your next appointment, so unless you have any questions for me, I'm going to go ahead and give you some privacy so you can get changed."
The nurse looked at her expectantly, but when Tawny shook her head, the other woman turned on her heel and left the room with a little "click" of the door.
For a moment, all she could do was sit there, breathing deep as a fresh wave of tears threatened to take hold of her. She didn't know anything about little boys. She didn't have any siblings, her parents having realized that having children wasn’t for them, and she had spent most of her time alone playing dolls and or dress up. Of course, it was possible that her little boy might want those things, too, but what would she say if he wanted to learn how to play baseball? Or basketball? How would she answer his questions when it came time for him to become a man?
And how was she going to afford little league uniforms and toy trucks?
She ran her thumb over the picture and promised herself that she'd have answers soon. That, no matter what, this little boy was going to be loved and that was what really mattered most. He'd never move around like she had. He'd have a stable home with stable friends. He would want for nothing.
With a deep breath, she climbed from the table and shrugged her shirt on, wiping off the jelly from her stomach before pulling the fabric over her little bump. Then, as she made to grab her pants, she heard a loud, booming voice echo down the hall.
"I'll be damned," the male voice said, and then a screechy female tone answered him.
"I can't allow you back there, sir."
"You can't stop me, either." The voice was closer now, louder, and with a sudden shock of horror, she realized whose voice it was.
He couldn't have found me here, though. I didn't say what appointment I was even going to. I didn't--
But he had. In the next second, the door swung open with a thunk as it connected with the wall, and he slammed it closed behind him before barricading it with a chair. The doorknob turned, but then he sat in the chair, ensuring nobody was getting in.
"I'm calling the police," the woman, who Tawny now realized was her nurse, yelled through the door.
“Do what you have to do, and I’ll do what I have to do,” Luke bellowed back.
Tawny finished zipping her jeans, then turned her head, trying to hide the sudden rush of heat in her cheeks.
“It’s okay, nurse. I’m fine,” she called through the door, not wanting to cause an even bigger scene. She turned her attention to a seething Luke. “Look, I can't fight with you right now." Every word was a struggle, but she knew that he'd heard her, and that was all that mattered.
"I didn't come here to fight," he said, and his voice was softer than it had been before, gentler.
"How did you find me?"
"I drove to every OBGYN in town, then when I got here, I saw your car."
Damn car. She should have had Suzette drive her like she wanted to. But she’d wanted to have a little time to herself to process it all.
She stared down at the little picture of the baby in her hand and shook her head. She should have learned by now that it was no use playing games of "what if" with herself. Luke was here now. Waiting for her to say something, do something.
"Fine. So, if you didn't come here to argue with me--" She squared her
shoulders, then lifted her head to face him at last. He looked sexy and gorgeous and angry…like an avenging angel. “What is it you're here to do?"
"To get you to listen."
"Consider me listening."
He nodded. "Tawny, I...I haven't had as much time to think about this as you have. I know that. But I also know that I am a good man and a good man lives up to his responsibilities. I won't be shut out."
He stared at her, as if challenging her to be the one to argue, to fight, but whatever urge she'd had to yell and scream had been sapped of her a long time ago. Instead, she stood there, waiting for him to go on, clutching the picture of her baby like a talisman against whatever he said next.
"I don't know what the future holds and I don't know what's going to happen, but I do know that I want to be there for you and for the baby. I want to help you through your pregnancy. If you're sick, I want to be the person you call to go get you soup or, you know, or waffles. Whatever."
She waited for him to go on, and then he said, "Please, look at me."
And she did. Really looked this time instead of looking through him. She took in the serious set of his square jaw, the bright, pleading gleam in his eyes. His slightly-too-long dark hair.
"I'm not doubting that you can do this on your own. I'm asking you, please, let me be there to help. I want to help with the finances after the baby is born and, if it's too much for you to handle talking about right now, we can talk about my involvement with the baby's life after he or she is born."
He took a deep breath and his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. "I can't make you any promises, but I can't just walk away. Please, I need you to understand that."
Another long silence permeated the air as he stared at her and the full weight of the world pressed down on her shoulders.
She knew that he was expecting her to fight, to say something back, but, in truth, she couldn't bring herself to form a coherent thought. It was like her brain kept trying to put the pieces together, only to have everything fall back apart again and scatter in a thousand different directions.
“He.”
“What?” Luke asked, brows caving into a confused frown.
“He,” she whispered. “It’s a boy.”
She tried to smile but then the world spun and she was sinking to the ground, crumpling into a little ball as an overpowering wave of emotion crashed over her and she burst into wracking sobs.
Chapter 10
A boy.
Luke stood there, his hands at his sides, his mind warring with itself.
On one hand, he wanted to walk toward her, to lift her up to standing and hold her against him until her tears dried. On the other, he felt like he was witnessing something private, something he had no right to acknowledge or even witness.
There was nothing he could do for her, he knew that, but this crushing helplessness was almost too much to bear, and before he could convince himself not to, he was crossing the room, lifting Tawny from the floor and into his arms.
If he'd thought she'd resist, he couldn't have been more wrong. She curled against him, her hot tears making his t-shirt damp as she buried her face against his chest.
With one nervous hand, he patted the top of her head, then stroked her silky brown hair, trying to think of something to say.
It was strange. Not just that this girl, this virtual stranger, was sobbing into his arms until she was gasping for breath, but also that it felt somehow right. Like she belonged there. Like it was comfortable.
He hushed her, then stroked her back until the sobs slowed and she was simply lying against him, sniffling, her full breasts and little belly nestled against the plane of his chest.
He cleared his throat, willing the sudden desire away and hating the sudden dirty thought. God only knew thoughts like those should be the farthest thing from his mind right now.
"Tawny, do you want to tell me what's wrong?" he asked, and then his heart sank as she shifted and pulled away from him, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.
She shook her head, tears still clinging to her long eyelashes. "No, look, I'm fine. Let me just." She held up a finger, then crossed the room. She pushed the chair away to open the door, and then said, "Excuse me, nurse, I'm so sorry for the disturbance. We'll be out of here soon, I promise."
Whatever the nurse said, Luke didn't hear, but then Tawny shut the door and faced him again, her cheeks still chalky.
"We should get out of here," she said.
"Please, will you tell me what's wrong?"
She glanced toward the floor, shaking her head again like he was a toddler who couldn't understand the vast adult responsibility on her shoulders. And, in some ways, he couldn't say he blamed her for feeling that way. He was still feeling totally blindsided.
"I just want to understand," he tried again, and maybe it was the faint edge of pleading in his voice that made her look up at him again.
"I've been pretty emotional lately, that's all." She lifted her hands and he spotted a small square piece of paper between her finger and thumb. Silently, she held the paper out to him.
For a moment, he didn't realize what it was. It was stupid, he knew that, but it was almost as if his mind refused to process the swirl of white and black as a photo. But then, all at once, it clicked into place. He could make out the little outline of something, the tiny little shape that was his baby.
Their baby.
He looked up at her, his mouth agape, and for the first time, she offered him something that might have been a smile.
Glancing down at the picture again, everything seemed to make sense. He could understand why she was crying, why she looked as though the weight of the world was resting on her shoulders. The reality of this person, this baby, was too overwhelming to put into words.
This was going to happen. He was going to be a father.
Working past the sudden tightness in his throat, he said, "You're right, we should get out of here. I'll walk you out."
Reluctantly, he handed the photo back to her and they made their way past the nurses' desk. The nurse he rushed past gave him a scowl but didn’t say anything as they walked through the rotating glass doors into the parking lot.
The whole way to her car, they didn’t speak a word to each other, and even if he'd had the nerve to talk, he wasn't sure what he'd say. He was too busy trying to come to grips with reality.
Then they were standing beside her sedan and she was sliding the key into the driver's side door.
"Well, I..." she started, but when her eyes met his whatever she'd wanted to say fell away.
"You're okay? To, to drive, I mean?" he asked.
"Perfectly fine." She nodded. Then, when he didn't move, she added, "I'll think about what you said, okay?"
He nodded, then closed her door and watched as she pulled out and onto the street, disappearing from his view. For the next few minutes, he stood there, the image of that ultrasound practically burned in his mind. Then, slowly, he made his way to his truck and blared the radio, hoping to distract himself from the thousand-pound weight sitting on his chest and making it nearly impossible for him to breathe. This morning, he'd been on a mission to find the girl he couldn't get off his mind and now...
Now his whole life had changed.
Was this how his parents had felt when their first adoption had been approved? One day they'd simply been Barb and Jim, and then the next they were someone's mother and father?
In the back of his mind, he could still picture his bike shop and the little apartment above it. The one that was so close, he could almost touch it. Rex would have come over on weekends and he would have been able to bring home big, extravagant gifts for the kids on Christmas and birthdays. New clothes for them, straight off the rack instead of from some consignment shop. He'd have been able to give his mother a diamond bracelet and get his father that new guitar he’d always talked about getting...
There wasn't room for a crib in that dream. There was no bathtub for the baby in
the apartment, even if he could convince Tawny to move to the city. There wasn't another bedroom for a baby's toys. Not enough money to help his family and for doctor's visits and diapers and, one day, a college education for his own kid.
Was this what had happened to his parents, too?
Had they thought, before the first baby came, that his father would still be able to live his dream of being a studio musician most of the year? That he'd be able to play in some traveling bands, seeing the world the rest of the time instead of only breaking out his guitar around the campfire in their meager backyard camping vacations?
And his mother...
He thought of the lines around her face, the roughness of her hands, the way she drank her tea every Sunday morning as she sat at the kitchen table and clipped coupons from four different newspapers just to ensure they could afford groceries for the week. That was, of course, when she managed to carve out enough time to sit down at all between chasing after all the kids intent on running her ragged.
But despite everything, despite the fact that his parents worked themselves to the bone, they kept letting new kids into their house, kept giving and giving until they had nothing of their own. That was the one thing he'd never been able to understand. Why hadn't they stopped at helping one child? Maybe even two?
Now, though, he was starting to wonder if he got it, and it was the ultrasound that had done it.
Compared to the swell of emotion in his chest when he saw that black and white picture, that bike shop and the stupid apartment and the meaningless comforts seemed a little less important. Just thinking about that picture filled him with so much hope, so much love, so much fear that literally everything else was blocked from his mind. All he could think of was the baby.
His baby.
He pulled up to his house, popped the car into park and set his head on the steering wheel while the final strains of a loud, angry song poured from the speakers.
It had been the longest, most fucked up day of his life and soon enough, he’d be a father. Might as well live up one of his last, responsibility free nights and clear his head the old fashioned way.
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