Home to Laura

by Mary Sullivan

  Her talk with Ruby had been illuminating. She knew that Winona hadn’t returned to town since January. She knew there was no chance of reconciliation with Winona. She knew that Ty said he wanted her and their baby.

  It was time to take him at his word. To trust him.

  This evening, Tammy was putting a bold plan into action.

  She wanted Ty and she wanted a family. She planned to get him back tonight for good, in the most daring way possible, to fix his attention firmly on her. She was going to make an impression, a lasting one, to leave him with a memory he wouldn’t soon forget.

  She planned to obliterate any trace of Winona from Ty’s mind and claim him for herself.

  If there was any way possible for a pregnant woman to be sexy, she was pulling out all the stops. Ty would love it, or he would find her pregnant body gross and she would have humiliated herself, and there would be no hope of a future between them.

  But wasn’t love worth taking a chance for?

  Go bold or go home.

  Using her own key, she entered and closed the door behind her, her hands shaky, but her jaw tight. She was nothing if not determined, committed.

  She unbuttoned her light summer cardigan and dropped it from her shoulders onto the floor in the front hallway, where it landed...in a lump.

  Bending gingerly because her eight-months-pregnant body had a mind of its own, had a different balance than her normal body, she rearranged her sweater so it looked more graceful lying on the floor in the foyer.

  Next, she took off her skirt and dropped it a few steps away, close to the bottom of the stairs.

  She took off one black stocking and draped it on the bottom step, then hung the garter on the newel post.

  A third of the way upstairs, she draped the second stocking and garter. Putting on the stockings with her big pregnant belly in the way had been a real pain. Ty had better appreciate her efforts or she would never speak to him again. Ever.

  At the top of the stairs, she dropped her black lace bra onto the carpet.

  With difficulty—thank God Ty wasn’t here to witness her ungainly striptease—she stepped out of her black lace panties. This evening, she’d eschewed maternity panties for a tiny pair that sat under her belly.

  She hung the underwear on the doorknob of his bedroom then closed the door. She pulled the bedsheet to the foot of the bed then lay down.

  At that moment, she heard Ty’s truck come barreling up his driveway.

  She struggled to arrange herself into a sexy pose. How did an extremely pregnant woman do that?

  Her hands started to shake. What if she was wrong about this? What if she turned Ty off? What if he ran for the hills rather than love her elephant body?

  Since last January, when she had learned of Winona’s existence, and how eerily Tammy resembled the woman, she had been living half a life. She’d adored Ty for too long to let what they’d had slide off into oblivion.

  Her baby needed a father, but Tammy needed Ty even more for herself. In the past, she had pushed Ty about marriage and he had always balked. It sounded as if he’d changed. She had to hope that was true. She wanted happiness. She wanted a family.

  They belonged together.

  She ran her hand over her stomach.

  Oh, Lord, what if she was making a fool of herself?

  * * *

  TY ENTERED THE house and stopped, arrested by the sight of a pale yellow sweater on the floor of his entryway.

  He would think it was Ruby’s, but she had left yesterday. Besides, the sweater hadn’t been there this morning when he had left for work.

  Farther along the hallway, a yellow skirt lay on the floor.

  What the—?

  He picked it up and recognized it. Tammy had worn it on the Fourth of July, to his barbecue. He hadn’t realized then that it had a big elastic insert for her expanding belly.

  What was it doing in his house, on his floor? A black stocking lay on the stairs, and farther up, another one hung on the banister. He picked it up and rubbed it between his fingers. Soft, like silk. Maybe it was silk. He didn’t know these things.

  A garter circled the newel post. He picked it up and scrunched it in his fist. Tammy was in his house. His breath caught in his throat. Thank you, Jesus.

  Tammy was here and, unless he missed his guess, was naked upstairs, or wearing pretty damn little.

  He took the stairs two at a time.

  A bra lay on the carpet and a pair of lacy black panties hung from his doorknob.

  His hands shaking, he opened the door...and there she was, naked on his bed and blooming with pregnancy, and beautiful enough to break his heart. To rob him of breath. To send him to heaven.

  He approached slowly, afraid that if he moved too quickly, she would disappear, that he would find she’d only been a mirage.

  Her body fascinated him. Her breasts were bigger, the nipples swollen and ready to feed their babe after she gave birth, and her belly was large, round, hard.

  “Take off your shirt,” she whispered.

  He did, unbuttoning slowly because his fingers were clumsy. He would do anything Tammy asked of him, if only she would stay. He shrugged out of his shirt and she smiled.

  “Take off your pants.”

  He unbuckled his belt, unzipped his jeans then pulled them off, taking his boots and socks off at the same time. She watched his every move, the look in her eyes avid.

  “Take off those.” She pointed to his underwear.

  He took them off, unhooking them from the erection that had already started to burgeon.

  When he stepped toward the bed, she asked, “Who am I?”

  He shook his head, trying to catch his breath, to regain his senses. “What?”

  “Who am I?” she repeated.

  A slow smile crept across his lips. “Tammy.”

  “Right answer.” Tammy smiled and opened her arms.

  He stepped into them, his weight dipping the mattress. She rolled against him.

  “You’re really here.” His voice broke, backed up as it was with tenderness and gratitude and relief. And love.

  They kissed and Ty had never tasted anything as beautiful as Tammy’s lips. He drank in hints of her favorite black tea with orange zest. At some point this afternoon, she’d eaten something with cinnamon in it.

  He ran his hands over her shoulders, her collarbone, her breasts and her stomach.

  She touched every part of him she could reach. “Oh, Ty, it’s been so long.”

  She turned her back to him and he positioned himself to enter her, taking it slow and easy. He’d never made love to a pregnant woman.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t.”

  “I don’t want to hurt the baby.”

  “Just take it slowly.”

  He did. Her body welcomed him by degrees, with warmth and moisture and womanly acceptance.

  He cupped her breasts then reached a hand below her belly to arouse her. Her breathing hitched and she moaned.

  Slowly, delicately, her scent tinted the air. Ty drank in the beauty of it.

  For hours they loved each other with their bodies, with hands and lips, with promises whispered in dirty words. In sweet phrases.

  “Ty,” Tammy whispered, “marry me.”

  Ty closed his eyes, wrapped her in a loving embrace and said, “Yes.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “I’VE SPENT MORE TIME in Accord in the past six months than I have for my whole life.” Nick pulled his stiff shirt collar away from his neck.

  The tuxedo rental shop hadn’t got the size right. He should have brought his own.

  He stood at the altar beside Gabe, who stood beside Ty. Nick had expected Ty to be nervous on his wedding day, but no. The man was as cool as a cucumber.

  Nick could never get married again, let alone look so confident doing it.

  A few stragglers still entered the church.

  Laura Cameron walked in just as a shaft of September sun
light flowed into the church, setting her chestnut hair on fire. She wore a purple dress that he suspected was a maternity dress because she looked wider than when he’d left.

  The baby was growing.

  His baby was growing.

  Her skin shone. He didn’t know what kind of vitamins she was taking, or whether hormones did that to a woman, but she glowed from within.

  Five months later, he still didn’t know what to do about the baby. For a man of decision, it rankled.

  Laura slipped into a seat in the back row.

  The church was full. Ty was respected not only in town, but also in the county, for his law-keeping skills, his cool head and his steady character.

  The wedding march started and Ruby and Emily walked down the aisle, pretty in pink ballet-length gowns with big white bows at their waists. At least, Emily had called them ballet-length. What did he know?

  Pride constricted Nick’s throat, made his vision mist.

  His preteen daughter was already a striking beauty, not to mention a smart cookie, and growing up too quickly for comfort.

  He winked at her and she grinned.

  Tammy entered the aisle behind the girls, breathtakingly gorgeous in a one-shoulder white gown that started with a small bow on her shoulder and draped across the oversize beach ball she carried in her belly then ended at her knees.

  Even at nine months, she looked elegant.

  Apparently, she was due in two weeks. Nick thought they should have waited until after the baby was born, but neither Ty nor Tammy would agree.

  Despite what a pretty bride Tammy made, Nick’s eye was drawn to Laura. He hadn’t seen her since that last game he’d coached before he and Emily returned home for the rest of the summer.

  Funny that he’d been dying to get back home, but life in Seattle had felt flat.

  He pushed himself at work, but hired a second assistant so he could continue in his promise to spend more time with Emily.

  He took her out to shows and museums.

  Seattle was his home, where he did business, so why did it feel so flat even while he spent more time with his daughter? Because they’d had more fun here in Accord.

  Laura noticed him watching her and stared back, her eyes wide, as caught up in the moment as he. When he’d left Accord, they’d been friends, a concept foreign to Nick—to be friends with a woman to whom he felt so attracted. Shared interests and their few warm conversations added depth to that confounding crazy-hot attraction.

  Time stretched on until Gabe nudged him with an elbow. Startled, he turned to his brother.

  Oh. Tammy had already arrived at the front and they were all supposed to be facing the minister.

  His face burned, which was strange. He never blushed.

  The ceremony was beautiful and Nick felt for his brother. He and Tammy were making their own brand of happiness and Nick couldn’t be more proud of Ty for taking that huge chance on the Fourth of July to bring his family together as best he could.

  Good for him for marrying the woman he loved and for Gabe, too, for marrying Callie.

  Later, after the ceremony and after the couple’s first dance, people started coming up to him and asking questions like, “When are you going to make an honest woman out of Laura?”

  It seemed that everyone in town knew his business, and what he should do about it.

  He cornered Laura and asked, “What the hell is going on?”

  Her eyes widened. The soft smile fell from her lips like water.

  He went on, angry and heedless, “Did you tell everyone that I was the father and wouldn’t marry you? They’re all acting like you’re the pretty little sheep and I’m the big bad wolf.”

  She stiffened. “I told no one anything. I don’t know how they found out. If I’d told them I wouldn’t have slanted the story that way. I’ve tried to be more than fair with you.” She looked down at his fingers wrapped around her upper arm, wrinkling the fabric of her sleeve. “Let go of me.”

  He did and she walked away without another word, head high. She looked confident, strong, but he’d already figured out that he had the power to hurt her. He’d certainly shot down their fledgling friendship.

  By the time Ty and Tammy were ready to cut the cake, Nick was ready to plant a fist into the face of the next person who tried to meddle in his life.

  While servers handed out cake, Tammy turned her back on the crowd to throw her bouquet. Single women lined up behind her. A bunch of women coaxed—and pushed—Laura into the line with the other women. The bouquet barreled toward her and she put her hand out to stop it from hitting her face.

  Unfortunately, instinct kicked in and her fingers curled around it. She’d “caught” the flowers.

  Nick smirked. Some lucky sod would marry Laura someday but it wouldn’t be him.

  An older man he couldn’t remember—Nick must have known who he was at some point because the man had lived his entire life in Accord—said, “Laura deserves better than to be given the shaft. When are you going to marry her?”

  “Never,” he shouted, no longer worried about what people thought. He was sick to death of his life being everyone else’s business. “I’m never going to marry Laura Cameron. Got it?”

  “Yeah. I think the whole room got it.”

  Too late, Nick noticed his surroundings. The room was quiet. Laura stood a short distance away clutching the bouquet. A waiter shoved a small plate with cake on it into her other hand. She dropped the flowers, stepped close and said to Nick, “I haven’t asked you to marry me. You would be the last man I’d choose.”

  She rammed the cake against his chest and walked away.

  Damn it. She shouldn’t have heard that. He picked up a napkin from a table and wiped the cake from the front of his shirt. Pink-and-blue icing stained the white cotton.

  Later, he saw her dancing with a muscled handsome man.

  “Gabe,” he said, “who’s the guy on steroids dancing with Laura?”

  Gabe glanced down at Nick’s shirt. “Battle scar?”

  Nick shot him a repressive look. “Who’s the guy?”

  “Her former fiancé.”

  Vin. “He’s got a lot of nerve showing his face.”

  Gabe shrugged. “He was part of the community for years. Things didn’t work out between them. It happens.”

  Nick didn’t care. “That man hurt Laura.”

  “And you didn’t?” Gabe shook his head, his voice ripe with disgust. “Your hypocrisy is showing. The whole room heard what you said about her.”

  Gabe walked away and Nick stared after him. He’d only said he wouldn’t marry her. That guy, Vin, had promised to and had then backed out. Vin had hurt her more. Nick honored any commitment he made in business. He might be ruthless, but at least he followed through on promises.

  He stalked onto the dance floor.

  “I’m cutting in.”

  Laura stared at him. Muscle boy asked, “Are you the guy who knocked up Laura?”

  “Are you the guy who knocked her up and then ran out on her?” Nick countered.

  “Hey, man, I would have stayed around and supported the baby.”

  “Lucky for you she lost it and you can’t prove that.”

  “Who the hell are you? You aren’t sticking around, either.”

  “I’ll pay her child support. I won’t leave her hanging in the breeze.”

  “I wouldn’t have, either.”

  “And yet, you left her the second she lost the baby. Nice support.”

  “Listen, you—”

  They realized at the same moment that Laura was no longer there. They muttered expletives at each other then walked away.

  Nick needed to find her and apologize. He should have never shouted to the entire room, in effect, to the whole town, that he wouldn’t marry her.

  He found her outside sitting on a bench with her eyes closed and her face turned up. A cooling September breeze had kicked up and had sent the day’s stifling humidity packing.

  “A
re you okay?” he asked.

  She opened her eyes, but didn’t look at him. “I’m too busy to talk to you.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Digging more deeply than I’ve ever had to in my life for patience.” Her index finger popped out of her fist to point at him. “I’ve just had one man yell to the whole world that he will never marry me. I don’t want you to. I neither expected nor asked you to.”

  Her middle finger popped up to join the first. “I’ve had Cro-Magnon man, who ran out on me when I lost my baby, chastise me for getting pregnant with a man I didn’t plan to marry and I, an intelligent woman, never once realized in five years what a chauvinist he is.”

  A third finger joined the first two. “And last, but not least, I’ve had the two of you fight over me on the dance floor in front of God and the whole town and who knows who else.”

  Her fingers curled back into her fist.

  “I’m responsible for my life. I hold no one else accountable for my mistakes. I will take care of this baby and will never, ever make her feel like a mistake. I will take child support payments from you because it is the right thing to do, because this baby shouldn’t have to pay for our mistake. But do I need either you or Vin? No. I’m blessedly, happily independent. Take your posturing and fighting elsewhere. From now on, I won’t have anything to do with either of you. I’m stronger on my own.”

  She left the garden, alone and independent and strong and magnificent. She was right. She didn’t need him or spineless Vin. He felt the loss of their fledgling friendship.

  Warrior woman Laura would raise a strong, independent child. Unlike him, she would parent her baby beautifully. The child would get the attention and the guidance she deserved.

  Laura would do a hell of a lot better raising this baby than he had ever done with Emily.

  He thanked the higher power, whoever or whatever it was, and Marsha for doing for Emily what he had failed to do.

  Rushing through the wedding guests, he found Emily sitting in the side garden drinking punch with Ruby and giggling.

  “Hey,” he said.

  She started, guiltily.

  “Give me that.” He took the punch from her and tasted it. “Someone spiked this. Give me.” He flicked his fingers at Ruby and she handed over her glass. He poured both into the bushes. “Come on. Let’s get you something nonalcoholic to drink.”