Twice in a Lifetime (Love Found) (10 page)

It took them only minutes to hit the nearest drugstore, buy the required test kit and return home. “Pee.” Allie would probably call it an order. Maybe it was, but he didn’t care. He followed it up by propelling her into the bathroom without ceremony.

She stumbled across the threshold, her purchase clutched in her fist. “Impatient son of a gun, aren’t you?”

“On the stick.” He didn’t care if he was grinning like a mad man. “Right now.” Like a sentry he guarded the open doorway.

“Come on Ben, I need a little privacy.” She grabbed the knob, swung the door closed in his face which was probably stupid with surprise, and spoke through the wooden panel. “Give me a little consideration, will you? I’ll get this done and then show you.”

He pushed the door back open, shut her up with a kiss. “I want to know if I get to be a daddy. I don’t have time for consideration.” He heaved a sighed, relented against her impatient glare, shut the door again. And begged from the hallway. “Now pee. Please?”

She peed.

He waited with his arms around her. Back to front so they could both watch the magic stick.

And there it was. Two pink lines.

Her hand shook only slightly as she held the plastic stick for him to see. “Okay, Daddy. What now?”

He had no idea, this was supposed to be years away. But he certainly couldn’t tell her that. It was time to man up. She would need holding so he turned her into his chest, brushed his lips against her temple. “Hell if I know. What I do know is it’s you and me, and we’ll make it a good thing.” His forehead against hers, he murmured the words against her skin. “I love you so much.” His gaze lowered, followed his hand as it rubbed low on her belly. “And I already love our baby.”

Even pale and skittish she was beautiful. And she was having his baby. How the hell did a guy get so lucky?

“In the kitchen!” Her shout came from that direction as he walked through the door after work. She planted her lips on his when he edged up beside her. “Boots.”

With a look down he frowned, toed them off one after the other.

“I called my folks today. They’re so excited, said the baby was better than the trip to Paris they had planned for the spring.” She lifted a lid, gave her pot of stew a stir. “And Reese is already shopping for onesies.”

“Happy, huh?”

“You could say. How about your dad?

“He cried.”

Her brow furrowed even as the wooden spoon halted. “He’s not happy?”

“Good tears. We’re supposed to refer to him as Papa starting immediately.” Ben took a stack of bowls from the cupboard, passed them around the table. “And I asked Jake to dinner. He’ll be here any minute.”

She ladled stew into Jake’s bowl, passed it to him. Did the same for Ben. Let just the right amount of casual ride in her voice. “I stopped by the doctor’s office today.”

Jake lifted his eyes, ping-ponged a questioning gaze between her and Ben. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, everything’s fine.” She passed him the rolls, waited until he snagged one, bit into it. The taunt was devilish but much too hard to resist. “Just had to pee into a little cup.”

To his credit, his food stayed in his mouth long enough for him to swallow. “A baby?” He pinned a glare on Ben. “You’re married what, three months? Jesus, you know what causes that, right?”

Ben only grinned. “You jealous? Find your own wife, knock her up.”

Jake’s eyes dulled, quickly brightened and were accompanied by a loopy grin. “Yeah, easy for you to say. You got the good one.” He got up from the table, kissed Allie on both cheeks and slapped Ben on the back. Hard.

Allie once again shifted against the headboard, propped up at the end of a busy Monday. She was once again herself—maybe a slightly larger self—but chasing the schoolkids around all day wore her out.

“Are you glad it’s a boy, Ben?” She was pretty sure he was, but he’d been kind of quiet since they returned from her sonogram earlier in the day. “I mean, most guys want to have a son, don’t they?”

Ben stretched, lifted her pillow so she could get comfortable. “Sure, it’s great. But you know I would have been good with a little girl, too.” His absentminded pat on her arm did nothing to reassure her.

“Thanks.” She wiggled into her nest. “What’s the matter? You look pale. Do you not feel well?”

“I’m fine.” Using a finger, he marked his place in the book on his lap and stared off into middle space.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have gone with me today. Some guys get kind of freaked out about the whole
growing the baby
thing. Is that it? Did it bother you to see him on that monitor? I thought it was pretty cool, myself. And then to hear his heartbeat.
Woosh, woosh, woosh
.” She imitated the sound the best she could. “It was really fast. I didn’t realize babies’ hearts beat that fast.” She was babbling, but Ben was really pale.

“What about his nickname? Are you sure you’re okay with it? Because I really like that name, Trey. It means three, and well, he is. The third, I mean. Your dad is Bentley, you’re Ben. And I don’t want anyone calling him Benjie. That sounds like a dog.”

“Trey’s good, sweetheart. That’s a good name.”

Oh, God. He wasn’t having second thoughts about the baby, was he? Because really, it was too late for that now. She took a hard look at him, stiff against his own pillow with his eyes glued to the cover of that baby book on his lap.

“What are you reading, Ben?”

“What the hell’s an incompetent cervix?”

Oh, good
God
! She grabbed the book from him and twisted to rearrange her pillows, scolding him with her best teacher voice as she tried to get comfortable. Again. Still. “Jeez, Ben. If you’re going to worry about every single thing you read in those books I’m going to take them all away from you.”

But Ben was not intimidated. He speared her with a determined scowl. “We need to know what we’re up against.”

And there was the bossy voice. Is this what was bothering him? He could be such a trial. She softened her tone and scooted closer to him. “No, sweetheart. You need to know that we have an excellent doctor—you met her, remember? She’s taking very good care of us. Everything will be fine.” She handed the book back to him. “Now read the part about helping me with my breathing during labor. I signed us up for Lamaze classes in a few months.”

With a wash of relief that returned his color, Ben again flipped through the pages, off her back and frantically hunting for the chapter less to do with unforeseen problems and more to do with bringing his child to him.

Her twenty-third birthday fell on a Sunday. She was stuffed, the melody of classical strings lulling her from across the dining room. Their plates were cleared with a muted clatter and the waiter served their desserts—raspberry topped cheesecake for her and a decadent chocolate layer cake for him. She took a bite then let out a low, appreciative sigh. “Delicious.”

Ben’s grin was expected. It was a joke between them how much she ate lately. “I had a call today.”

She lifted her gaze and paused with her spoon raised to her lips, prepared to shovel in the next bite.

“Yep. From the zoo. Seems they’re missing an elephant.”

He was teasing. Of course he was. How many times a day could he possibly tell her how beautiful she was? But oh, he was going to pay for that. With a retaliatory grin she set her spoon back in her dish. She stretched her arm out until her hand rested on his lap, adjacent to her. She let her fingers wiggle their way to his inner thigh. Hidden by the heavy linen tablecloth, she traced his hard length with her fingertips. Beamed up at him, all innocent. “Seems they’re missing a snake, too.”

With a muffled bark of laughter, he tugged her close and brushed his lips against hers, then pulled a gift from his jacket. Two fingers pushed it past the flickering candle and across the table to her, his warm blue eyes smiling. “Happy birthday, babe.”

She picked up the flat, narrow box in one hand. It rustled when she gave it a little shake. “Is it a car seat? Because we really need a car seat.”

“No silly, can’t you tell by the shape? It’s a stroller.” She hadn’t picked that out yet either. “Better open it to be sure.”

She leisurely unfastened the tape, hiding her eyes with her lashes, taunting Ben with her deliberate motions. When all the tape was unstuck, she gradually peeled back the paper and exposed a jeweler’s box. Her chin jerked up in surprise.

“Oh, Ben.”

“You don’t even know what it is yet. Open it!”

Oh lord, bossy voice again
. But she knew him well now. He only used it when he was anxious.

She removed the smooth leather case from the box. Snapped open the lid to reveal a beautiful watch with a slim gold band and diamonds encircling its face. It was engraved on the back.
For all time. Love, Ben.

“Oh, Ben. I love it.” She plucked her new bauble from its cocoon and buckled it on. Her heart must surely show in her eyes, as it was so full of love, so swelled in her chest, she just might explode. She lifted her lemon water to his whisky sour in a toast, the lips of the elegant crystal touching with a discreet ring. “For all time.”

She made it through winter, and warmer weather was again upon them. It was more than a year since she first met Ben—such a busy year. With a waddle she swore she’d never resort to, she headed toward the kitchen for a glass of iced tea. A key scraped the lock and she halted. Ben stepped through the door and kicked off his boots.

“Like your dress.” He leaned in for a welcoming kiss.

She scowled down at the acres of fabric. “Tent. You look tired.”

“Hard week, just glad it’s Friday.” He dropped an arm across her shoulders. “I need to change. Tell me about your day.”

Restless. Achy. I cried in the classroom after the kids left. “I’m just glad I made it to the last day of school before the rug rat made his appearance.”

“Your due date was a whole week ago.”

Her feet were evidence of that. “Everyone said first babies are late. I guess I’m glad they were right this time.”

They passed the baby’s room—a closet advertised as a second bedroom—which they’d painted soft yellow and hung with prints of nursery rhyme characters. A zoo animal mobile bobbed above the wooden crib Ben had assembled weeks ago. Everything was ready for Trey’s arrival. There were stacks of diapers, tiny T-shirts and pajamas. Hand-knit blankets. Sweet smelling powder and lotion. And Jake had brought a huge stuffed teddy bear with a big blue bow the day after the sonogram. They were missing nothing. Except Trey.