Knocked Up: A Secret Baby Romance Collection

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Knocked Up: A Secret Baby Romance Collection Page 85

by Nikki Ash


  Not telling her how I felt for longer than was even acceptable, I knew that all of that had to change. This wasn’t even about both of us sleeping together ten months prior. This wasn’t about me being in love with her well before that. This wasn’t even about me realizing that I'd been nothing but a coward as I lay in bed alone across the fucking ocean wishing I’d been more of a man and just confessed how I felt before I’d left.

  But I was a coward. The very idea that if I’d told her how I felt, and she didn’t reciprocate those feelings, I would be gone and I couldn’t have done anything to try and make things right. The time would pass, distance would make that absence even worse, and things would be so much worse than I could ever imagine.

  That’s what had gone through my mind as I kept my fucking mouth shut while in her presence, and had said nothing in the sparse letters we’d shared.

  But I was back now, having come home a little earlier than projected, and all I wanted to do was surprise the only woman who had ever meant anything to me.

  I pulled the SUV next to the curb in front of Lia’s one bedroom duplex. The house was old, with white siding, black decorative shutters on either side of the windows, and a seventies aesthetic feel inside.

  I sat there for several minutes, just staring at the front door, wondering if I should have called her and let her know of my arrival. That would have been the right thing to do, but I’d been so damn excited.

  I didn’t want to shock Lia, didn’t want to just show up unannounced like an asshole, but I’d been unable to stop myself from just coming straight here, anticipating this reunion for so long that all I’d wanted to do was act.

  Lia was my life. My everything. She wasn’t just my best friend, but also my family. With parents that couldn’t care less about me because I hadn’t wanted to follow in my father’s footsteps, parents that had cut me off when I’d told them of my medical aspirations, Lia had been the only one to stick by me through it all.

  I exhaled, my heart racing, my chest tight, and my stomach in knots.

  Running a hand over my mouth, I felt the day-old scruff make an appearance on my cheeks and jaw. I should have shaved. I should have changed out of the clothes I’d worn on that long ass flight across the ocean.

  Go in there. See her. Talk to her. Hold her and tell Lia how much you love her.

  I forced myself out of the vehicle and headed to the front door. The sun was just starting to set, my flight having come in just a couple of hours ago. I’d gotten my bags and headed straight to Lia’s, not stopping anywhere because the only important thing to me was her.

  Always her.

  Once on the front porch I just stood there and stared at the door, hearing muffled sound on the other side. Her neighbor wasn’t home, which I was thankful for, because I wanted this moment just for us, without any background noise from someone on the other side of the wall.

  I wanted this to be about her and me.

  In my head I’d thought about this moment for so long that now that I finally stood here, I was scared shitless. My pulse was racing, my throat was tight and dry. I felt dizzy, my face flushed, my breathing coming out in rapid pants.

  I braced a hand on the door jam and closed my eyes for a minute, exhaling slowly, trying to gather my thoughts and just focus. This shouldn’t have been as nerve wracking as it was, but when you were about to reunite with the one person who meant everything to you, when you were finally going to admit your feelings, things went upside down in your head and body.

  Before I could stop myself, I brought my knuckles up and rapped three times on the door. And then I took a step back, my heart in my throat, sweat starting to form on my forehead. Only seconds had passed, but it felt like a lifetime as I waited there for her to open the door. Then I heard the lock disengage. The door swung open. And my breath caught as the world faded and I stared at Lia.

  Her eyes widened as she took me in, and I let myself have the luxury of looking at her, starting with the top of her head and traveling down to the tips of her toes.

  The long dark strands of her hair were piled high in a messy bun on the top of her head, pieces falling from the knot and framing her face. Her eyes seemed so big, like large saucers—a deer caught in headlights. I noticed the dark circles under them, as if she hadn’t been getting sleep. I frowned, the part of me that worried about her and wanted to take care of Lia rising up viciously.

  She had a small blue towel draped over her shoulder, or maybe it was a blanket. It was tiny, but looked soft, like fleece, not terrycloth. The white T-shirt she wore looked like she’d spilled water all down the front, damp spots showing tiny bits of her peachy flesh underneath. I kept looking her over, not sexually—although she was by far the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen—but because a part of me wanted to make sure she was whole, that these last several months hadn’t taken anything away from her.

  She wore a pair of black yoga pants, ones that molded to her legs perfectly. She looked the same, yet didn’t. She was curvier than I remembered, her breasts seeming larger. That last part had me imagining a moment in time from ten months ago--when we’d been drunk and she’d been writhing under me, her beautiful naked breasts shaking back and forth slightly as I slid in and out of her.

  Oh God. Now was not the time to get aroused.

  I cleared my throat, shifted on my feet, scrubbed a hand over the back of my neck. I was twitchy and nervous, and I felt her staring at me so intently it was like she touched me.

  “You’re back,” she whispered, her voice sounded weird… thin, as if she stared at a ghost, or a stranger. “Early.”

  Fuck.

  “I mean… I didn’t mean for that to sound tense… dammit this is weird.”

  I glanced up and she still had that tight look on her face, her eyes still wide.

  “I’m really happy you’re back.” And she smiled, one that was genuine and warm and sweet and made my heart skip a beat.

  She stepped aside and let me in, and when I went over the threshold I smelled cookies in the air, then noticed the candle sitting on the counter in the kitchen.

  I didn't even wait—couldn’t, if I were being totally honest. I pulled Lia in, had a hand on the back of her head so she was pressed to my chest, then buried my nose in her hair, just inhaling deeply.

  “God, I missed you,” I murmured, feeling like I was finally home. I. Was. Home. She held me back just as tightly, her body melting into mine, this little sob coming from her, but I knew it was happiness that shook her much smaller body.

  “I missed you, too,” she whispered, and tightened her arms around me.

  Fuck, that felt incredible.

  I didn’t know how long I held her, but it would never be enough. Never. I did pull away then, smiling down at her, pushing some of those errant strands of hair from her face, and letting my fingers linger along her ultra-smooth cheeks.

  “I missed you so much.” My heart started beating again for the first time in almost a year the moment she’d opened that door and I saw her again after all this time.

  The smile she gave me lit me up from the inside out. I forced myself to let my arms drop away from her, not wanting to make this weird. We had a lot to talk about, especially where I stood on how she made me feel. I did give myself a moment to look around, reminiscing about her place since it seemed like a lifetime since I’d been here.

  The duplex was a tiny little thing, with the living room and kitchen one room with only a breakfast counter style partition separating the door. There was a door that led off from the kitchen and into a large laundry room, and another door there that led out back.

  Attached to the living room was an even tinier hallway, a bathroom off of that reminiscent of the seventies with a yellow and brown accented counter and linoleum floor.

  The living room looked the same—the navy couch with tiny peach colored dots scattered over it that Lia had found at a yard sale. The black faux wood “entertainment center” that held her TV, DVD player, and an array
of movies on the shelf. The rug in front of the couch was the same—cream with these darker cream accented swirls throughout.

  Also off the hallway was the lone bedroom, nearly as large as the living room, which wasn’t saying much since they were both tiny as hell.

  The best part of the duplex set-up—and the reason it had sealed the deal for Lia renting the place—not counting the free water and heat—was the backyard.

  The structure was situated on a hundred acres owned by the landlord, an elderly couple who farmed corn and soybeans. The backyard was fields and fields as far as the eye could see, and there was even a wood area that had a creek running through it.

  As I stood here thinking about all of that, taking in her place, which I already knew by heart, but wanted to memorize all over again, I started noticing things that I hadn’t picked up on right away. Things that most certainly had never belonged here before.

  A baby swing butting up against the wall.

  A woven basket beside the couch that held diapers, wipes, washcloths, and an array of other baby paraphernalia.

  I snapped my focus to the kitchen and looked at the sink. A bottle rack sat on the counter, bottles situated upside down on it as they clearly dried.

  Baby stuff. Everywhere.

  I felt dizzy, so lightheaded I reached out and braced a hand on the wall beside me, hung my head, and closed my eyes. I breathed in and out. In and out.

  A baby. There was a baby here. Lia has a baby.

  Those words went through my head back and forth, on repeat, taking up reality.

  The next thing that moved through my shock was pure jealousy, followed by a murderous rage to hunt down whoever had gotten her pregnant and tear their balls from their body before I fed them to him.

  When I lifted my head and stared at Lia, I saw she’d taken that little blue blanket—which I now assumed might be a burp cloth of some kind—and started to wring it in her hands. She was watching me with a guarded expression, her teeth pulling at her bottom lip, her chest rising and falling as she breathed in and out hard.

  I opened my mouth and closed it, not sure what to say, but it didn’t matter because no words came out.

  Then the sound of a tiny little human came through from the bedroom. My heart jerked in my chest and my throat tightened. She glanced over her shoulder at the bedroom, then back at me, the wailing tapering off before picking up again even harder.

  “I have to get him. I’ll be right back and we can… talk.”

  I found my way stumbling over to the couch, my body falling down onto it, my foot bumping into that little woven basket with the baby stuff in it. I reached down and ran my finger over the tops of the diapers and along the soft blankets, then straightened.

  My hands shook and I curled them into themselves to try and stop it.

  And then Lia stepped back out into the living room and as I stared at her holding that tiny little baby in her arms, I swore the world opened up and swallowed me whole.

  Chapter Nine

  Lia

  This certainly wasn’t how I saw telling Jameson about the baby situation. But life really did like to give you surprises, and as I looked down at my son, truer words had never been spoken.

  The only place for me to sit was on the couch, but I left a cushion between us, thinking maybe he needed a little bit of room, some space to this bomb I just dropped.

  I knew I would have if the roles had been reversed.

  The way he looked at me before glancing down at the baby, then back at me, told me all sorts of conclusions were popping up in his head. I wanted to just come out and tell him the truth, open myself up bare, let the chips fall where they may, but I was tongue-tied, scared of the fallout, afraid he’d be upset with me.

  I exhaled slowly and adjusted the baby in my arms. I glanced down again at my son, seeing a tiny Jameson reflected back at me. He looked so much like the man I loved it was shocking. When I lifted my head to stare at Jameson once more, I cleared my throat, figuring I might as well just open this wound and bleed dry.

  “You have a baby, Lia,” Jameson said before I could get any words out.

  I had your baby.

  Of course I kept that to myself at this very moment.

  I cleared my throat again and nodded slowly. “He’s…he’s a couple of weeks old.” I felt myself smile in genuine love and happiness. I remembered everything that had transpired from the time I’d given myself to Jameson that night all those months ago to this exact moment now where he was back in my life and there was this tiny human that we’d created together in my arms. “His name is Caleb.” I let those words hang between us as I looked into Jameson's so very blue eyes, hoping he would understand the significance of that.

  Jameson blinked a few times and stared down at Caleb, maybe not processing what I said fully yet. The blanket obstructed little Caleb's face, and I pulled it down more, letting Jameson see the dark tuft of hair that covered his head. I shifted on the couch so that Jameson could get a better look at the baby.

  His son.

  “His name is Caleb?” The way he spoke was low, as if he said the words almost to himself.

  I nodded again, so much emotion clogging my body that I couldn’t think clearly, couldn’t focus on anything. Everything was running through my mind at hyper-speed; nervousness and anticipation, excitement and hesitation all waging war inside of me.

  “That’s my middle name, Lia.” He looked at me now with wide, shocked eyes.

  I ran my free palm up and down my thigh, my hand shaking before I lifted it back up and cupped the baby’s bottom.

  “I…I named him…” God, get the words out. But I was all but shaking, and it was only when I felt Jameson place a hand on my knee, easing me, calming me further, that I took a deep breath and just finished saying what needed to be said. “I named him after his father.”

  The silence that bounced between us was heavy and thick, the shock coalescing between us, moving back-and-forth, faster and harder until Jameson snatched his hand away, curled his fingers into his palms and made a fist. He started breathing harder as if he couldn’t get enough oxygen into his lungs, and I watched as he gripped the arm of the couch, his nails digging into the fabric and making a soft scratching sound.

  It was as if he were using it as leverage, as if he were afraid if he didn’t hold on he’d crumble to the ground.

  “The father?” Jameson wheezed out then shifted on the cushion so he was looking straight ahead, breathing harshly as if he couldn’t catch his breath. And then his body went ramrod straight, his head turning toward me, his focus clear as water. “That night...that night we got drunk and...”

  I nodded when it was clear he couldn’t finish speaking. “Yeah.” My voice was thick and husky. “I didn’t have any way to tell you, and that broke me.” I sniffed, cleared my throat, then started blinking a lot.

  Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

  “You were all alone,” Jameson said with such a deep voice it was clear his emotions were just as high as mine were. “I left you all alone to deal with a pregnancy and a baby and…I’m so sorry.”

  I shook my head and brushed away the tears that fell, hating that I couldn’t be stronger. “It’s not your fault. No apologies. It's no one's fault. It is just something that happened, and here we are with this perfect little boy.” Just then Caleb roused, his eyes blinking open, his body stretching in that way newborns did. His little mouth opened, his pink, adorable toothless gums coming into view.

  “Can I…Can I hold him?”

  I snapped my eyes up to Jameson and felt my heart race even more. I nodded slowly and moved closer toward him, watching as his shaky hands lifted up.

  “I don’t know what I’m doing.” His voice was so soft.

  I didn’t speak as I placed the tiny bundle in his arms. “Just support his head.” Jameson placed a big hand on the back of Caleb’s head, and then he leaned back, resting against the cushions, his focus completely transfixed on the baby.
r />   “Lia,” Jameson groaned and closed his eyes before opening them and blinking rapidly. “He looks just like me.”

  I covered my mouth with my hands and nodded, then realized he couldn’t see me because he was still staring at the baby. “I know. It’s crazy, right?” Caleb’s eyes were fully open now, and my heart broke in the best way as my son stared up raptly at his father. “I’m pretty sure his eyes will be the same shade as yours.”

  Jameson nodded and smiled, his thumb gently moving back and forth, stroking Caleb’s downy soft hair. “Yeah,” he finally said, then cleared his throat.

  “I’d seen this visit going so differently,” he murmured, his voice low and deep, as if he was trying to hold in all his emotion.

  I was right there along with him, feeling like I’d been transported to some alternate dimension, knowing that life had turned itself upside down, and although he seemed so very accepting of the situation—of baby Caleb—I still worried about what was going to happen between him and I.

  I was in love with him, still hadn’t told him that, and I was afraid. I was terrified to alter this moment in time, where we were in this perfect little bubble.

  “I’d pictured our reunion so many times over the last year.” He looked at me then.

  I felt my heart jump into my throat before plummeting into the pit of my stomach. But I said nothing. I didn’t even move. I knew he had more to say. I could see that written across his face.

  “This last year has been hell for me... because I was away from you.” He swallowed. “God, it’s been hell being away from you, and even more so now because I know what you had to go through alone.” He closed his eyes, squeezed them shut for just a second before he opened them again and looked at me with those Caribbean blue irises. “I love you so much, Lia.”

  I smiled, feeling my emotions choke me up all over again. “I love you too, Jameson,” I responded easily, so very truthfully. So much more truthfully than he’d ever know.

 

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