Friends, Lovers...And Babies! (The Baby Bet #2)

by Joan Elliott Pickart

  “Like the millions of married couples across the’ country.”

  “Would you knock it off, Sharpe? Change the subject, or I’m out of here.”

  “Chill, MacAllister. The subject is changed.”

  “Good.”

  “Of course that won’t keep you from thinking about it. You’ll have trouble sleeping tonight, buddy, because you’re going to be replaying this conversation over and over in your tiny mind. You’ll be tossing and turning, tossing and turning. Guaranteed.”

  “Sharpe,” Ryan said, a definite warning tone to his voice.

  “Okay, okay, don’t get hostile. I’m changing the subject.” He paused to take another big bite of pie, chewed and swallowed. “I’m riding solo on duty these days. Poley went on over to the Denver force.”

  “Why hasn’t Captain Bolstad assigned you a new partner?”

  “He’s advertised the job, but hasn’t clicked with any of the applicants. In fact, the city council increased our budget and Bolstad is looking for three cops. So far, he’s got zip.”

  “Oh,” Ryan said, nodding, “I see.”

  Ted didn’t speak further as he finished his pie. He pushed the plate to one side, then leaned back in the booth, sighing with contentment.

  “Okay,” Ryan said, “get on with it before you blow a circuit.”

  Ted raised his eyebrows. “Get on with what?”

  “The spiel about me rejoining the force. You laid the groundwork with your ‘Bolstad is looking for three cops’ jazz, so go for it.”

  “Nope, I’ve given up on you. I’m just wasting my breath trying to get you to come back. I’ll just have to wait and see who Bolstad hires and assigns as my partner.”

  “Yeah, well, I’d probably have to do the refresher course at the academy because it’s been so long since I resigned. He’d surely have the positions filled by then, anyway.”

  “You didn’t resign.”

  “What?”

  “Well, you did, but that’s not how the captain put the paperwork through. You’re on an official leave of absence, which means you wouldn’t have to do the refresher course. You can unleave yourself and be back in uniform within forty-eight hours.”

  “He had no right to do that!”

  “Captains can do whatever they damn well please. But you’re not interested, so he’ll hire three guys as soon as he can find them. Want me to change the subject again?”

  Ryan stared at him for a long moment, then chuckled and shook his head.

  “You’re good, Ted, very slick, very tricky. I believe it’s called reverse psychology.” Ryan’s smile faded. “I’m going nuts running MacAllister Security Systems. I’m bored out of my mind.

  “I messed around a couple of days ago, making up a contract that would enable my two installers to buy the outfit from me if they wanted it. I haven’t said anything to them about it. I haven’t said anything to anyone, not even Deedee, but…” His voice trailed off.

  Ted watched him intently, hardly breathing.

  “I miss it, Ted,” Ryan continued quietly. “I really miss being a cop. I guess the caring, the emotional involvement with the people, is part of the package when you’re wearing the uniform. Risks. Hell, life is a risk at every turn. I’m running risks caring about Deedee. I said caring, not loving, but it’s still risky, yet I’m doing it. I think that…”

  He stared up at the ceiling and drew a shuddering breath, before looking at Ted again.

  “It’s time, Ted,” he said, his voice slightly husky. “I’m so damn tired of hiding out in that dingy office.” He nodded. “Yeah, it’s time to put on the uniform and go back to where I belong. Don’t say anything to Captain Bolstad until I’ve told Deedee. She deserves to hear it from me before I actually do it. Then I guess you’ll have yourself a partner.”

  Ted smiled. “Welcome home, buddy.”

  Ryan matched his smile. “Yeah.”

  * * *

  Hours later, Ryan punched his pillow, gaining momentary satisfaction from pretending it was Ted Sharpe’s nose.

  Damn that Sharpe, he fumed, rolling onto his back in the rumpled bed. He couldn’t sleep because of Ted’s power of suggestion at dinner that the night would consist of tossing and turning. Tossing and turning, and thinking about the issue of being, or not being, in love with Deedee Hamilton.

  During the short time he had slept, he’d had the dream again, the same dream about Deedee dancing with the butterflies.

  “Oh, man,” Ryan said, dragging both hands down his face.

  He was not, he refused to be, in love with Deedee.

  Why? a niggling little voice asked him.

  Because loving someone was too risky. It set a guy up to be cut off at the knees, to be totally vulnerable to heartache and pain. Too risky.

  Oh? Wasn’t being a cop risky?

  Ryan sighed in frustrated defeat.

  Yeah, being a cop was physically and emotionally risky. And he was itching to get back into that uniform, to be what he was meant to be. He was once again prepared to run all the risks that being a police officer entailed.

  To use “too risky” as a reason not to love was lame, didn’t cut it. The risk of loving was no greater in his mind than the risks of being a cop. No, it wasn’t the risk of loving that was causing a knot to twist in his gut.

  It was…

  Sherry.

  Ryan swore and threw back the blankets. He sat up on the edge of the bed, rested his elbows on his knees and cupped his head in his hands.

  The darkness in the room was oppressive, seeming to crush him with the weight of unwanted memories.

  Sherry.

  Since her death, he’d stood firm in his inner pledge to stay true to her, to honor the vows they’d taken until he drew his last breath.

  He had told himself that what he’d had with Sherry had been fantastic beyond measure, was a once-in-a-lifetime experience that would make anything else second-best. They’d been so happy together, so connected. They’d had it all.

  A chill swept through Ryan, and he straightened, bracing his hands on his knees as he stared into the darkness. The chill was followed by sweat that dotted his brow and trickled down his chest.

  It’s truth time, MacAllister, the little voice insisted.

  The truth, his mind hammered. The truth. Oh, God, he’d buried it so deeply within him, couldn’t face it along with the violence of Sherry’s death. He’d left it there, the truth, hidden beneath his anguish, refusing to allow it to surface.

  But now?

  There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide from the truth.

  “Oh, Sherry,” Ryan said aloud, his voice raspy with emotion.

  They hadn’t been happy together.

  Her requested transfer to the emergency room had come through a few weeks after they’d been married, and everything had fallen apart before they’d hardly begun.

  They rarely saw each other, and argued more often than not when they managed to spend time together. Sherry had refused to give up her coveted position. The more stubborn she got, the more demanding he became, telling her she had to leave the emergency room for a place with hours that matched his schedule more closely.

  The last time he’d seen her before she was killed, they’d argued bitterly about the subject. He’d slammed out the door in a rage.

  And he hadn’t even kissed her goodbye.

  Their marriage had been as good as over. Finished. They weren’t going to make it together, and deep in his gut he’d known that, then buried the knowledge when she died.

  There it was—the truth.

  Ryan sat statue still, waiting for the pain to assault him, to rip him to emotional shreds. But instead, a strange sense of peace began to fill him with its warmth, moving slowly through him with a gentle, healing touch.

  The heavy darkness in the room seemed suddenly lighter, brighter, allowing him to clearly see images flitting before him.

  Deedee.

  Dancing with the butterflies.

  Deedee
.

  And he loved her.

  Ryan sank back against the pillow, so exhausted he hardly had the strength to lift his legs onto the bed. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, a groan of fatigue escaping from his lips.

  Sleep, blessed sleep, began to creep over him like a comforting blanket.

  He was in love with Deedee Hamilton, he thought hazily. He really, truly was. She was there, so clearly in his mind’s eye, smiling at him, her dark eyes sparkling. Yeah, there was her cute nose with the adorable freckles, and her lips that were like sweet nectar.

  Oh, man, how he loved her.

  Ryan drifted off to sleep, not realizing that he was smiling.

  The next afternoon, Deedee gave up her attempt to concentrate on the magazine she held. She set it back on the end table and shifted yet again in the less-thancomfortable chair.

  She stared at the clock on the wall, willing the hands to move faster.

  Ten more minutes. They’d said it would take an hour, and there were still ten long, agonizing minutes left to endure.

  Then they would tell her.

  Then she would know if she was pregnant.

  She sighed wearily and leaned her head against the wall, closing her eyes. Images of Ryan immediately formed in crystal clarity in her mental vision—magnificent Ryan MacAllister.

  The past weeks had been so fantastic. Little by little Ryan had lowered his guard, removed the walls around him to reveal, like slowly opening a tantalizing Christmas present, the wonder of the man he truly was.

  He had a dry, witty sense of humor that had caught her off guard more than once, causing her to dissolve in laughter.

  He listened, really listened, when she talked, as though everything she said was of the utmost importance to him.

  She’d answered his endless questions about the running of Books and Books, and how she went about dealing in the rare editions, which were her pride and joy. He wanted to understand the inner workings of her business, he’d said, because it was a part of who she was.

  Never before in her life had she felt so special, so cherished, by doing nothing more than being herself—open, honest and real.

  And the lovemaking they’d shared! It was beyond description in its splendor. So beautiful, intimate…and theirs.

  Ryan.

  Whenever he appeared, her heart beat with a wild tempo and a smile instantly formed on her lips. The mere sight of him caused her to feel young, happy and vibrantly alive. She continually rejoiced in his very existence, and the fact that he was an intricate part of her life.

  And she loved him with every breath in her body.

  Deedee opened her eyes and stared into space.

  She didn’t know exactly when she’d fallen in love with Ryan, and had a sneaky suspicion she’d subconsciously ignored the reality for as long as she could. She’d broken the rules of their relationship, crossed over the boundaries they had set.

  Friends and lovers.

  Oh, yes, Ryan was her best friend. Ryan was her lover. But Ryan was also the man she loved.

  And now she was waiting to learn if she was going to have his baby.

  When she gummed up the program, she thought dryly, she didn’t mess around. What if she really was pregnant? How did she feel about it?

  She didn’t even know, because she’d refused to address a maybe, an unknown. She was in limbo, on mental and emotional hold, waiting for that damnable clock to tick off the time until the unknown would become a known.

  “Miss Hamilton?”

  Deedee jerked in her chair. “Yes?”

  “Dr. Mercer will see you now. You can go to his office at the end of the hall.”

  Deedee got to her feet, praying her trembling legs would carry her down the hallway.

  “Come in, come in, Deedee,” Dr. Mercer said when she entered the office. “Close the door and have a seat.”

  She did as instructed, gratefully sinking onto a chair opposite the doctor’s desk.

  Dr. Mercer looked, she’d decided years before, like Santa Claus out of uniform. He was a roly-poly man, with bushy white hair, a trim beard and the kindest eyes she’d ever seen. She liked and trusted him, but at that moment she wished she were a hundred miles away from him.

  “Well, Deedee, we ran the blood test,” Dr. Mercer said. “My dear, you are, indeed, pregnant.”

  Deedee blinked, opened her mouth to speak, then realized she had no air in her lungs because she’d been holding her breath. She gulped in some air and tried again.

  “But I’m on the pill,” she said, her voice sounding strange to her own ears.

  Dr. Mercer shook his head. “I know, but your body has had a mind of its own ever since I’ve been your physician. You recall how many different varieties of the pill we had to try before finding one that would regulate you properly.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Your system simply overrode your method of birth control. It happens. I have a four-year-old-grandson who is proof of that fact. You are pregnant, Deedee.”

  “Well, fancy that,” she said, attempting a smile that failed to materialize. “My, my, isn’t that something? If Forrest knew, he’d be putting The Baby Bet into operation. Forrest is Jillian’s husband. They’re expecting triplets. Can you imagine having three baby girls at once? They’re all girls. Forrest won The Baby Bet about the triplets, but then he always wins The Baby Bet, you see. Everyone puts twenty dollars in the pot and—“

  “Deedee,” the doctor interrupted, a gentle tone to his voice, “hush.”

  “Oh, dear heaven,” she said, then burst into tears. “I’m…I’m going…to have…a pink rabbit.”

  Dr. Mercer chuckled and pushed the tissue box on his desk toward her.

  “It might be a blue rabbit, you know,” he said. “Blow your nose.”

  Deedee nodded as she dabbed at her nose with a tissue. She took a steadying breath and lifted her chin.

  “So!” she said, then threw up her hands, unable to think of another thing to say.

  “All right, young lady,” Dr. Mercer said. “You’ve babbled, then cried, which are par for the course. Now let’s get serious. What about the father of your baby?”

  “I love him.”

  “That’s helpful.”

  “No, it’s not, because he doesn’t love me. We agreed to be friends and lovers, nothing more.”

  “I see. Well, perhaps this baby will change his mind about that agreement.”

  “No. No, nothing will. He isn’t going to want any part of being a father, of having a more serious relationship.”

  “He played a definite part in your becoming an expectant mother.” Dr. Mercer paused. “Deedee, do you want this baby?”

  “Oh, yes,” she said, a genuine smile lighting up her face. “I refused to get in touch with myself about how I felt about it until I knew for certain if I was pregnant. But I don’t need even one second to ponder the question. I want this baby very, very much.”

  “You’ll be a wonderful mother.”

  “Single mother.”

  “Perhaps. You do plan to tell the father about the baby, don’t you?”

  “Yes. Ryan and I are based on honesty. I’ll tell him, but I’ll make it clear that I don’t expect anything from him. It’s not his fault I have a weird system in my body. I assured him that I was protected. He’s free of obligation here.”

  “That’s all very noble, but what about the fact that you’re in love with him?”

  “That I won’t tell him, because it wouldn’t serve any purpose. It’s not lying exactly, it’s just leaving out a detail.”

  Dr. Mercer frowned at her. “Mmm.”

  “Trust me, I know what I’m doing.” She got to her feet. “Thank you for being so kind, so caring.”

  The doctor stood. “Make an appointment at the front desk for about two weeks from now. Ask MaryAnn to give you the packet of information for mothers-to-be.”

  “Yes, all right.”

  “Deedee, if you want to talk, I’m here t
o listen.”

  “Thank you, I appreciate that, but I’m fine…emotionally. I don’t feel too swift in the mornings, though.”

  “Keep soda crackers by your bed and have a couple before you get up. The morning sickness hopefully won’t last too long. We’ll see how you’re doing with that when you come in again.”

  Deedee reached across the desk and shook the doctor’s hand. He smiled at her warmly, then she turned and left the office.

  “If that Ryan fellow isn’t in love with that sweet little girl,” the doctor said to no one, “then he’s seven kinds of a fool.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Deedee vaguely remembered driving to Books and Books, thanking her employee for covering for her while she was gone, then assisting a customer who wanted a copy of The Velveteen Rabbit.

  At last alone in the store, she slid onto the stool behind the counter, propped her elbows on the top of the counter and rested her chin on folded hands.

  She was in love with Ryan MacAllister, her mind hammered. While sitting in the doctor’s office, which certainly wasn’t a very romantic place for such a discovery, she’d come face-to-face with the realization that she loved Ryan.

  And if that wasn’t enough to send her into a tizzy, she’d been told minutes later that she was pregnant with Ryan’s baby!

  It was too much to deal with all at once, just too, too much. Her mind was mush, and her emotions were a tangled maze.

  She didn’t know whether to shout with joy, or weep in despair.

  “Calm down, Deedee,” she told herself. “Take it one step at a time.”

  The bad news was that she was in love with a man who didn’t love her in return.

  The good news was that she was going to have a pink rabbit…or maybe a blue rabbit. There was no reason to have an ultrasound to find out if it was a girl or a boy. She’d simply wait for Forrest to announce that The Baby Bet was being held on her behalf, then listen for where he placed his money.

  The bad news was that once she told Ryan she was pregnant, their relationship would be over. There would be no more lovely evenings together, no more exquisitely beautiful lovemaking. Ryan would be so angry that she’d moved beyond the boundaries of their being just friends and lovers.