“We can record it,” Adelaide continued as she lifted Mallory’s shirt high enough to completely expose her stomach and then rolled under the waistband of her jeans, as well. “That way the father can hear it, too.”
Recordings weren’t her concern at the moment.
And...the father?
As Adelaide spread cold gel all over her stomach, Mallory stared at the ceiling and thought about the first time she’d heard Tucker’s heartbeat. It had been during her normal prenatal check. Braden had been at work and she hadn’t thought to ask if he wanted to come along. Those early doctor visits, they’d felt...feminine. Between her, her doctor and her baby.
They hadn’t offered to record it, either.
Braden hadn’t seemed to think anything of it. He’d been super excited to know that she’d heard it. He’d asked her how it sounded, and when she’d said it was fast, he’d looked worried, asking questions until she’d assured him that the doctor had said it was perfectly normal.
The technician put a handheld device on her belly, started moving it around.
Why hadn’t she thought to invite Braden to hear Tucker’s heartbeat for himself?
“Okay, you can look right here and see...” The technician’s voice fell off. She adjusted the transformer, and Mallory turned her head to look at the screen.
She’d told herself she wouldn’t. She’d just let them do their work and assume everything was fine. It wasn’t like she’d know what she was looking at anyway. Not this early.
“See...right here,” the technician said. “This is your baby.”
She didn’t see a baby. She saw something that looked kind of like a peanut still in the shell. A really small one. If she looked really hard at the differences in the shadows, she could almost make out a bunny head, too.
“Is there a heartbeat?”
“Not yet,” the technician said, moving her apparatus around. She’d grown quiet. Her tone more business-like than chipper. Honing in on one part of Mallory’s stomach, she put more gel on her and stared at the screen.
Oh, God. Everything wasn’t okay.
She couldn’t do this. No. It wasn’t right.
She took a deep breath. She had to handle what life gave her. There simply was no other choice. Tucker had taught her that. Her sweet baby boy. He’d be in heaven, watching over her.
“There...” Frowning, Adelaide held the transformer still.
“Is that a heartbeat?” It sounded different from what she remembered of Tucker’s. Of course he’d been older. But the sound was so...jumbled. Not a regular rhythm.
There was something wrong with her baby’s heart.
“It’s two actually,” the woman said. “I wasn’t sure at first, but there are definitely two babies there.”
Two babies?
But...
“Do twins run in your family?”
She had no idea. And Braden’s? Did they run in his? She didn’t know that, either.
But she knew she could find out.
And she would.
As soon as she got a hold of herself.
She was having two babies? Kids who’d always have each other. Who’d never know what it was to grow up alone.
Two little ones to hold. To raise. To watch grow.
Twice the love.
Lying on the table with her smeared belly exposed, Mallory burst into tears.
Chapter Thirteen
Braden was getting ready to go into a theater with Anna to see a touring Broadway production of Hamilton, something she particularly wanted to see, when his phone buzzed with Mallory’s call.
“I’m sorry. I have to take this,” he told her, leaving her to find their seats on her own while he stepped out into the lobby.
“Everything okay?” he asked. She almost never called in the evening.
“I just...was wondering...when you’re going to be in San Diego.”
“I can come tonight if you need me. What happened?”
“Nothing happened. I’m just calling to arrange a meal. You know, lunch or dinner, so we can talk.”
Her words said one thing, her tone of voice another. His concern turned into something more.
“Is the baby okay?” He knew she couldn’t handle another loss. Didn’t deserve it.
“Yes.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
Did she just chuckle?
The lights blinked, signaling that the play was ready to start. He made a quick mental review of the next day’s calendar. Fridays were usually lighter than Mondays, but still booked. He’d been planning a trip home over the weekend. Had even thought about maybe inviting Anna to accompany him. But then there’d be the whole overnight thing.
He was pretty sure he wanted sex as badly as she seemed to. He just wasn’t ready to take a chance on sex making them more committed than he was sure he wanted to be. Yet.
“Can you do lunch tomorrow?” he asked. And then amended, “Or dinner would be better so I could have a full day of business.”
“You’re going to be here tomorrow?”
Now he was.
“Yes.” A couple of his meetings were over the internet. He could do those from his San Diego office. And reschedule other things.
His mind raced. Mallory only called if it was important. “You’re sure everything’s okay?” He hated not knowing what was going on with her. How could he stay on top of things, make certain that he was giving her the support he’d promised, if he didn’t know what he was dealing with?
“I’m sure, Bray.” She sounded sure.
Walking back toward the hall that led to his entry into the theater, he relaxed, made arrangements to meet his ex-wife not far from work for dinner the following evening and went in to enjoy an evening of Broadway with his girlfriend.
Life was moving on.
Just as he’d planned.
* * *
Mallory was both gleeful and scared to death as she dressed for work on Friday. Instead of her normal pants and polo shirt, she wore one of her many light cotton skirts—this one in shades of burgundy with beige flowers—a beige top and a three-quarter sleeve, lightweight maroon sweater. Her jeweled flat sandals matched perfectly and completed the comfy but feminine feel she was going for. Because she had a late parent meeting to discuss a precocious three-year-old who belonged in a four-year-old class academically, she wouldn’t have time to go home and change before dinner with Braden.
It was just a normal dinner, she told herself, at a restaurant they frequented often.
Except this time they were talking about her twins.
Did he have twins in his family?
It didn’t really matter; she was having them whether he did or not. But the doctor seemed to want to know. Something to do with the insemination process.
She’d been assured there was no danger to her babies, either way, but they wanted it on the record, if possible.
Her babies.
She was having twins. Of all things.
All by herself.
It stood to reason that they’d both be hungry at once, need to be changed at the same time. How would she choose who to tend to first?
Up late looking on the internet the night before, she finally nixed that endeavor. There were more horror stories and warnings, parents talking more about the challenges than anything else. She could come up with her own list of potential problems without any help, thank you.
And she was a certified child-development specialist with a college degree in the field who worked with dozens of children, not just two, every single day.
She could do this.
Arriving at the restaurant her usual fifteen minutes early, expecting to have a good ten minutes to acclimate herself to a friendly conversation minus any of the drama rambling through her, she was surprised
to see Braden already there. Stepping away from the wall off to the side of the hostess’s desk, he greeted her with a kiss to the cheek and, with his hand at her back, walked with her as the hostess showed them to their table.
It was a booth by a wall, with no window to look out. No ocean to see. Leaving her staring at him as she reeled from the touch of his hand at the small of her back. It had been so long since he’d touched her there. She was making too much of it, she was sure. Totally overreacting.
As was her want for more. Like a kiss full on the lips instead of the cheek. Maybe with some tongue touching.
What was wrong with her?
It had to be the pregnancy. Or, worse, perverseness because she knew he was seeing someone. She hoped to God it wasn’t that. She wasn’t that small, was she?
She wanted Braden happy. That’s all she’d ever wanted for him.
Yeah, she’d love it if they could still be married, but they’d torn each other apart. It was much better to be friends than to lose him completely.
Glancing over, she caught him looking at her with that darker blue shadow in his eyes. The one that told her he’d rather have sex than dinner.
Again, it had to be her misreading the look.
“I didn’t really plan to be in San Diego today.” His voice was soft, taunting her, though there was no way he’d know that.
Pray he never knew that. She’d be so humiliated. And he’d feel badly, as if it was his fault and as if he owed her for the fact that her body suddenly seemed to be coming alive for him again.
It had to be the pregnancy, and that had been totally her fault. Her choice.
“You didn’t?” she asked when she could trust her voice not to crack.
He shook his head. And she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to make of that.
They ordered and as they ate, Braden talked about the progress being made on the new L.A. build and the pros and cons of living in a hotel. He missed his own bed, his own bathroom and closet more than he’d thought he would.
She wondered if he missed San Diego, too, but didn’t ask.
He didn’t ask why she’d called the dinner meeting. Needing some time to get over her emotional reaction to seeing him, to him touching her lower back, she didn’t tell him. She didn’t trust herself not to gush. Or cry. And she definitely didn’t want to add those flames to a relationship that seemed to be changing in spite of their desires and efforts and promises to not let that happen.
When their plates were cleared and he was paying the bill, she figured she’d ask him about his family’s twin history as they were parting at their vehicles. Make it just a quick oh-by-the-way thing.
He asked her to go for a walk with him, instead. They were downtown, one block from a row of shops and hotels along the ocean. With the balmy May evening air feeling good to her heated skin and her fears right there ready to mock her, she agreed, thinking a walk with her ex-husband was better than fighting with her own mind.
Their hands brushed and she immediately stepped to the side, adjusting her walk to prevent another touch.
“I want to apologize,” she said, when she’d meant to ask about the history of twins in his family.
“For what?”
“When we had Tucker I didn’t even think to include you when I went to the doctor, you know, hearing the heartbeat and all that.”
“I didn’t ask to go.”
“But you’d have gone if I’d asked, wouldn’t you?”
“Of course.”
“I’ve been thinking about it all day.” The words poured out even though she’d promised herself she wouldn’t do this to him. Wouldn’t drag him back into the emotional quagmire he detested. “I wasn’t fair to you, Bray. I excluded you from things that maybe you didn’t necessarily care about or think were a big deal, but if you’d been there...well, maybe they could have been.”
“You were having a baby. I wasn’t. Of course there were things only you got to experience.”
“But I didn’t even try to make you a part of them.” And after Tucker was born, she’d never once asked him to rise in the night to get the baby. She’d been breastfeeding, so she’d had to get up anyway. Besides, he’d been working while she’d taken four months off.
“We painted the nursery together,” he said, and out of the blue she was suffused with heat again. She’d forgotten about that and how that venture had been interrupted with sex on the floor of the nursery.
Her nipples tingled and liquid pooled below. Hormones, all hormones, she assured herself. With a little dab of memory mixed in.
“I just... I’m sorry I robbed you of the chance to fully experience the birth of your first child.”
There. She’d said it.
And she felt better. Sort of. She could never give those experiences back to him.
“I missed you.” Hands in his pockets, he stared ahead of them.
“What, this week?” she asked. “We talked twice.” But she knew that wasn’t what he’d meant. He was wearing the purple tie, and she wondered if he’d chosen her favorite color because he’d known he was having dinner with her.
Like she’d chosen her outfit for him.
“Back then. It wasn’t so much that I couldn’t experience everything you were experiencing. It was that you didn’t seem to need me around.”
She felt as though she’d been softly and kindly slapped. If such a thing could happen.
Truth was, she hadn’t needed him, not in the way she should have. She’d been deeply in love with him, hadn’t wanted to lose him. But on a day-to-day basis, she’d been in heaven those months she’d been a mom—before and after Tucker’s birth.
“I don’t know how to be all in with two different people,” she told him. “And Tucker was incapable of taking care of himself.”
She’d chosen her son over her husband. The truth was between them, like a third walker in their party.
There’d been no aloofness in her baby boy. He’d been all about love and hugs and cuddles. “I guess I needed more touching than just for sexual purposes,” she said aloud. But she knew it was more than that. She’d been swamped with emotion and had needed to be able to express herself naturally, fully, without fear of judgment. Bray had always loved that she was a practical woman. He’d told her so many times.
But even practical women had feelings. A wealth of them. And expression of emotion was a natural need. A mandatory one if you were to remain healthy.
She truly didn’t know how Braden did it, going through life without any ups and downs as he did. She’d never seen him cry after their son died. Even at Tucker’s funeral he hadn’t shed a single tear.
“I’d have held you without sex, Mal. It’s just that every time I touch you I want you.”
Want. Not wanted.
There they were, back in dangerous territory again. Made completely so by the fact that she was pretty certain that she wanted sex with him again, too. Just because of hormones. Otherwise she’d have wanted it two months ago, wouldn’t she have?
Sex wouldn’t solve anything. It would be great to be in his arms again, to lose herself to the magic of his touch, to feel his lips.
But when it was done, they’d still have their problems.
The one thing she knew, without a doubt, was that she couldn’t go through losing him again. Their friendship might not survive another divorce.
Chapter Fourteen
He wanted to sleep with his ex-wife. Even more than he wanted to have sex with Anna. Walking beside her that Friday evening, he had to face the fact.
And to figure out if he could possibly be reading her correctly because he was definitely getting vibes that she wanted him, too. Like she had before Tucker.
“I need to know if you have a history of twins in your family.”
“I don’t know, but I can ask my mom. Why?”<
br />
The question made it out just as he stopped cold and stared at her.
The grin on her face and the glow in her eyes in the fading dusk were brighter than any streetlight would have been.
“You’re having twins?”
“Yep.” She nodded and kept grinning.
Braden grabbed her, hugged her, started to swing her around and caught himself. Putting her down abruptly, he said, “I’m sorry, but I’m so happy for you, Mal. That is, if you’re okay with it.”
“I’m great with it. A little worried,” she said as she started walking, being kind enough to ignore the way he’d just grabbed her. “I have no idea how I’m going to handle two middle-of-the-night feedings every two hours, but I know I’ll figure it out. I want to figure it out. It seems so perfect to me. Birthing best friends.”
“They’re going to fight.”
“I’m sure of it. But from what I’ve read, a vast majority of twins are really close. I love it that my children will grow up with built-in playmates and confidantes.”
She’d talked some about her years in foster care, about the kids who came and went. Some she’d missed horribly, others not as much.
And it occurred to him that Mallory wasn’t used to having someone hang around forever. Had never had that. Even her foster mom had faded away when she’d started a new life with a new family.
Everything seemed to stop for him. Right there.
Was that why she’d pushed him away after Tucker came along? Or, rather, had given everything she had to their son? Because she’d never really expected Braden to be around forever?
But being a mother, biologically connected to Tucker, she’d finally felt that she’d found that forever person?
He had no idea if he was right or not. But the thought made sense. A lot of sense. It didn’t change anything, other than to give him some understanding.
He still wasn’t the man she needed. Wasn’t ever going to be able to “sit in her tears,” or whatever the counselor had said. He didn’t have it in him. And he wasn’t ever going to be able to make up to her the fact that he’d robbed her of her last minutes with her son.
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