An Officer, a Baby and a Bride

by Tracy Madison

  Within two minutes of his arrival, she’d excused herself to change into cooler clothes. Apparently, being pregnant was akin to carrying a mini-furnace around with you. He hadn’t known that. Two hours spent in a birthing class had made it obvious that his overall knowledge of pregnancy and childbirth fell deeply into the deficient range.

  That annoyed him. He disliked being uninformed.

  He waited another minute before Rebecca descended the stairs. Besides changing her clothes, she’d pulled her hair into a ponytail. Again, the attraction he always felt in her presence roared to life. Again, he didn’t—couldn’t—comprehend how everything inside of him could react so strongly to a woman who’d attempted to deceive him.

  “You look more comfortable,” he said, aiming for easy and charming. “Are you?”

  “Much better, thanks.” She stepped forward two paces, stopped. “I’d like to talk.”

  “You mentioned that.”

  “I assumed you’d also want to clear the air.”

  “We’re having a baby, Becca,” he said, sticking with his calm and collected persona. “Seems pretty clear to me.”

  “Nothing is clear about this.” Sliding her hands down her pants, she let out a small breath. “We need to set some ground rules. We need to figure out how this is going to work.”

  “You’re right, but we don’t have to do that now. We have plenty of time.”

  “No, we don’t.” Frustration simmered, both in her voice and in her expression. “This baby is coming whether we’re ready or not, and I’d prefer to be ready. I thought I was. But now you’re here and I have to rethink every last detail. You’re… Well, you aren’t making that easy.”

  He wasn’t making things easy on her? The child in him wanted to point out that she was the one who’d put them in this race-to-the-finish-line decision-making process, but he chose to take the higher ground. “What can I do to help?”

  “Let’s start with how long you’re in Portland for.”

  Not long enough. “I have three-and-a-half weeks left.”

  Rebecca’s mouth drooped into a small frown. “I hadn’t realized you’d taken so much time off. I guess I thought you only had another week or so.”

  “Nope.”

  She gave a jerky nod and sat down on the love seat. “I made a mistake, Seth. I shouldn’t have tried to keep any of this from you, and I hope you can believe me when I say I’m sorry.”

  He wasn’t sure what he believed in that regard. Perhaps she was sorry. Perhaps with hindsight, she’d take a different route if given the same choices today—though it was equally as possible her sorrow resided only in the fact that her duplicity hadn’t been successful.

  “But neither that nor my pregnancy,” she continued in a halting voice, “gives you the right to invade my life whenever you want. That has to stop.”

  “I take it you’re referring to tonight’s class? I thought it went rather well.”

  “The class isn’t the issue.” Twisting her fingers together, she said, “The problem is that you weren’t invited to be there. Just like Saturday. Just like the walk. And just like Jace showing up at my office without an appointment.”

  “Jace didn’t confer with me before paying you a visit, but I’m pleased he did. As to the rest, I can see how my unexpected appearances might bother you, but—”

  “Good. I’m glad—”

  “But I’m fairly sure you’ll lock me out of everything if given the chance.” Seth angled his body toward her, looking her in the eyes. “I won’t let that happen, Becca.”

  Her lashes fluttered in a sleepy sort of blink that made him want to carry her to bed and tuck her in and curl up next to her. It was an immeasurably compelling vision. One he had to forcibly pull himself out of to focus on the here and now.

  “It is no longer my intention to lock you out of anything,” she said quietly. “Of course, I understand why you feel that way. Discovering you’re going to be a father out of the blue was a shock, especially because I didn’t tell you myself. And with how Saturday played out, you’re probably emotional and confused, so—”

  “I am not emotional,” he said flatly, his tone giving no room for argument. “Nor am I confused. I came here on Saturday to get the truth, which I did. Every other action I’ve taken is to ascertain that you don’t forget—again—that I am a part of this.”

  “I won’t. I promise you that.”

  “Forgive me if I’m not quite ready to believe you.”

  “Maybe that’s because you haven’t heard the entire story.” Her bottom lip rolled into her mouth, and he was struck with the inexorable longing to kiss her. “If you’d listen, maybe we could get to a better place.”

  “Why are you so set on explaining?” he countered. “Have you thought about that?”

  She lifted her chin. “So you’ll understand.”

  “I won’t understand, and frankly, Becca…I don’t think you care if I do.” He paused, felt the muscle in his cheek jerk and fought to remain steady. “If you’re honest, you’ll see that this need to explain is more about your feelings than mine.”

  Her brow creased in confusion. “What? No. That isn’t it at all. How can you think that?”

  “It’s simple human behavior. If I listen and accept your explanation, and then forgive you, you’re freed of any leftover guilt you might be feeling. Which is great for you, but what does that do for me? Nothing changes.”

  “I don’t care if you forgive me,” she said in a monotone voice. “But if we’re going to move forward in any way at all, you need to know where my head was at.”

  “I already do. You wanted me out of the picture.”

  “Yes, but if you’d listen to me, maybe—”

  “I’d love to help you out here, I really would. But I can’t.” He wasn’t an idiot. She was right—letting her explain would be the quickest way to move on. But he didn’t trust how he’d react. Not yet. “Being angry with you isn’t a solution.”

  “But avoiding the situation is?”

  “All I am avoiding is adding another layer of difficulty to our relationship.”

  “We don’t have a relationship!” Her nostrils flared in annoyance. “We never have. We had a few letters and a weekend. Most men would consider that a fling—not a relationship.”

  “Sorry, sweetheart, but that’s where you’re wrong. For one, I’m not most men. For two, we had a lot of letters. For three, those letters and our weekend meant something to me, and unless you’re even better at hiding your feelings than I thought, they meant something to you.”

  She stared at him without speaking, her mouth clenched tight. Contention hung in the air, thick and oppressive. Unrelenting. On the outside, she was coiled up, icy anger, but her eyes told a different story. There, Seth saw uncertainty and vulnerability. Perhaps even fear.

  Of him? The last thing he ever wanted was to scare a woman. Particularly this woman. He let out a cleansing breath and allowed the tension to seep from his muscles. In a warmer tone, he said, “We share a relationship with our child. That connects us. One way or another, we’ll be in each other’s lives for many years. We’re both going to have to make peace with that.”

  “That doesn’t equate to a relationship,” she said woodenly. Stubbornly.

  “Oh, but it does. Birthdays, holidays, first day of school, bruised knees and skinned elbows. We’re in this together, babe. From here on out.” He paused for a second to let his words settle, and then repeated, “Together.”

  “Not completely. Not even mostly,” she argued hotly. “You don’t have to pee every thirty minutes, deal with constant heartburn or a nonstop achy lower back. You won’t have to go through hours of pain to bring this baby into the world. I get to do all of that all by myself.”

  He let her words simmer in his brain for a full minute
before saying, “You’ve sort of lost me here. Are you mad because I’m the man and you’re the woman? If so, there isn’t a lot I can do about that. Or…is this one of those hormonal conditions you were talking about earlier?”

  Whoa. Wrong thing to say by a large margin. At least, that was how Seth took the skin-melting glare she sent his way.

  “You didn’t just accuse me of being hormonal, did you?”

  “No,” he said quickly. “I asked if you were hormonal.”

  Blinking rapidly, she inhaled a sharp-sounding breath. “So your explanation for everything I said is based on the possibility that my hormones are out of whack? Really?”

  “Well…ah…that seems sensible, based on what you said in class.”

  “That was a joke.” She huffed again. If looks could kill, he figured he’d be six feet under by now. “I wish you could walk around for one hour…one measly hour…with a baby planted between your hips while dealing with a full-time job and endless hours of planning heaped on top of endless hours of sleepless worry. Maybe then you’d understand what I’m talking about.”

  Granted, none of that sounded like a walk in the park. But he wished she could live on his side of the fence for a while. Maybe then, she would understand what he was dealing with. Ever since learning he was going to be a father, he’d lived with this sick feeling that she could take his child away from him at any second.

  As much as he wanted to say those words, he didn’t. Instead, he gave her the often practiced, rarely successful innocent look he used to give his mother when he was a kid and in trouble. “So you’re not hormonal?”

  “Of course I’m hormonal,” she said half under her breath. “I’m always hormonal.”

  “Then…I’m not quite sure what the problem is.”

  She gave him a withering glance. “You are not allowed to say I’m hormonal.”

  “Lesson learned. I will never broach that topic again. But…I still don’t know what you were originally getting at. Help me out here.”

  “I chose Jocelyn to be my birthing partner,” Rebecca said, her chin high and her shoulders firm. “You decided—without any regard to my comfort level—to take her place tonight. Now she’s missed the first class, and I have to wonder if she’ll show for the next. Did you consider how that might affect me?”

  No, he hadn’t. “You’re right. I apologize for not considering your needs in that specific situation. But did you consider that I should be able to meet my child before your sister does?”

  “I… No, I didn’t.” Her shoulders sagged with the admission. “I should have. It’s just that I’ve been making plans all by myself for months. And none of those plans—”

  “Included me?” An unexpected bolt of pain hit him hard. Why, exactly, he couldn’t say. Any arrangements she might have made prior to Saturday clearly wouldn’t involve him. “That was the past. You can’t keep me out of the loop. Not anymore.”

  “I know.” Her vision drifted to the side of his. “There…is something I haven’t told you. Something you’ll want to know.”

  “I’m listening,” he said, instantly concerned. Was there a medical issue with the baby? With Rebecca? Was she involved with another man? Or… “Tell me. Please.”

  “The baby is—”

  “Is something wrong with—”

  “A girl.”

  “Whatever it is—” Seth stopped and took a breath. “The baby is fine?”

  “Yes.”

  He only had a second of relief before his head started spinning again. “And did you say the baby is a girl?”

  “I did,” she confirmed. “I hope your heart wasn’t set on a son.”

  “No. I hadn’t even thought that far ahead. I mean, yeah, a son would have been cool, but a daughter is good. Real good. I mean, either is good. As long as the baby is—”

  “Healthy,” Rebecca said, completing his sentence. “And she is.”

  “Good. That’s real good.” He tried to imagine a little girl calling him “Daddy,” but couldn’t. The picture was fuzzy and just out of reach. Even so, the knowledge brought the semiabstract idea of parenthood into true-blue reality. “Wow, Becca.”

  His gaze lowered to her stomach and he wondered about the baby inside. His daughter. Lord, his mother was going to be over the moon at this news.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the other night,” Rebecca said guardedly. “I didn’t purposely keep that information to myself. I sort of forgot in the…shock of the past few days.”

  “Understood.” He swallowed past a thick-feeling glob of something in his throat. “Have you given any thought to names?”

  “Some, but I haven’t made a decision. Maybe…maybe we can find the perfect name together,” she offered, surprising him. Pleasing him, too. “If you’d like.”

  “I would love to help choose our daughter’s name.”

  “As long as you don’t want to name her after a fruit,” Rebecca said in all seriousness, watching him with soft eyes and an even softer mouth. “Or a car.”

  “Deal.” Every part of him hungered with the need to touch her, hold her. Kiss her. “See? Including me isn’t so hard.”

  “This is the type of decision I expect to have your input on.” Stubbornness entered her gaze and firmed her chin, erasing the illusion of softness. “But I won’t let you railroad me into anything I’m uncomfortable with. When I say no, I mean no.”

  He deciphered the unsaid portion of her declaration easily enough. She was referring to his proposal, to his statement that she would eventually propose to him.

  “I get it, Becca. I do,” he said, feigning ignorance. “What you said about Jocelyn makes sense, and I probably won’t be here for the birth, anyway. If you don’t mind, I’d still like to attend some of the classes. Maybe Jocelyn and I could take turns?”

  “I wasn’t talking about Jocelyn or the—” Rebecca snapped her jaw shut and shook her head. “Wait a minute. If you’re not going to be here, why would you want to go to the classes?”

  Relieved he managed to alter the direction of her thoughts, he shrugged. “It’s important.”

  “You’re serious about this?” At his nod, she sighed. “I suppose I can live with that.”

  A win. A small one, but a win nonetheless. “Thank you.”

  “And?”

  “Um.” Now what? “Thank you a lot?”

  “You’re welcome. A lot.” Sudden amusement filled her expression, lifting the corners of her mouth. “This feels like a negotiation, so shouldn’t you offer me something in return?”

  He slid himself to the edge of the couch, getting as near to her as he could with the corner of the coffee table between them, and spoke the only words in his head. “How about a kiss?”

  She blinked once. Twice. A smudge of rosy pink darkened her rounded cheeks. “That wasn’t what I meant,” she said, her voice low and warm, and ridiculously appealing.

  “What did you mean, then?”

  “Just that…” Her blush grew until the tips of her ears were as pink as her cheeks. “Well, maybe you could give me some advance notice before randomly showing up somewhere.”

  “Sure, if you give me your phone number. I can’t contact you without it.” Still, he didn’t move. She didn’t, either. That made him curious. Did she want him to kiss her?

  “I’ll…ah…give it to you tonight before you leave.”

  Somewhere in the back of his mind, Seth acknowledged that this was another win. But for the most part, all he could think of was that kiss. And if she wanted to feel their lips pressed together as much as he did. “Becca.”

  “Seth…I—” The softest, sweetest sigh whispered from her mouth.

  He couldn’t resist. He didn’t even want to. He moved from the couch to sit beside her on the love seat. She shifted to face him, and
again he saw the glimmer of vulnerability cascade through her features. And that damn near did him in.

  At that moment, he would have done anything—given anything—to offer her whatever security she needed to feel safe. “Come here,” he said. “Please.”

  “I can’t kiss you.” A nervous treble coated her words. “As you said, we’ll be in each other’s lives for a long time. Acting on our attraction again would be a mistake. For both of us.”

  Our attraction. His hope, which had suffered a few blows, revived. “Let me hold you then. Just for a few minutes.”

  “That probably isn’t a good idea, either.”

  “Why don’t we give it a try and see?”

  Rather than answering, she brought his hand to her stomach. “Can you feel that? Our daughter is kicking up a storm. Maybe she knows her daddy is here.”

  “That’s impossible—” He jerked when he felt the thumping, rolling, wiggling sensation pushing against his palm. In the snap of a finger, the mood changed and all he could think about was his daughter. “She can’t know who I am.”

  “You never know,” Rebecca said. “She’s been more active than normal all evening.”

  “Is that the way it is, baby girl? Do you know I’m here?” he said to the belly, feeling like an idiot. But darn if his daughter didn’t kick again. Awed and exhilarated, he pressed his hand tighter against Rebecca’s shirt. “Wow. Feels like you’re practicing karate in there.”

  Rebecca’s gentle laugh met his ears. “That’s what I always tell her.”

  Strong, sudden, soppy emotion engulfed Seth. His eyes grew damp and the thick feeling in his throat hardened into cement. Another series of tumbling thumps vibrated beneath his palm. A tear came free and worked its way down his cheek. He looked up, caught Rebecca watching him with the same watery-eyed, gooey expression he likely had.

  At another time, he would have been embarrassed by his unmanly show of emotion. In this instance, he didn’t care if Rebecca saw him crying. Her hand tightened around his when their baby kicked again, and another blast of emotion assaulted Seth.