The Baby Arrangement Read online

Page 9


  She’d been weighed, had her blood pressure checked, peed in the cup, and all that was left was the few minutes it would take for the injection of Braden’s sperm into her uterus.

  It was all procedure. She’d been through it before. And she didn’t have a single doubt that she was doing the right thing.

  What bothered her far more was the fact that she’d failed to distance herself from Bray in the daycare venture. Because she’d been attracted to him?

  It had come and gone so quickly she’d closed her mind to the possibility instantly. But she’d worried about it ever since.

  She’d been turned on by her ex-husband.

  Looking back, she thought maybe she was imagining the whole thing. Maybe she’d just reacted so strongly because she’d been shocked that he’d been turned on. Shocked to see that look in his eye. Or maybe she was hormonal, her body raging with the need to be a mother again.

  Maybe it was because she was using his sperm.

  Her phone vibrated with a text. The message flashed up on her screen.

  Meet me for a quick bite?

  The timing was no mistake. She was certain of that.

  Yes.

  She was going to tell him she was out of the L.A. deal.

  * * *

  “Mallory? You can get dressed,” Dr. Sharon Miller said as she came into the exam room and closed the door.

  Last time a nurse had come in before the doctor with a tray filled with procedural materials. She’d been expecting the nurse first.

  “Get dressed? I don’t understand.”

  Surely she didn’t have the wrong time. They’d checked her in like they were expecting her. Put her through the pre-insemination rigmarole.

  Dr. Miller’s smile threw her off a bit. And then she heard, “You’re pregnant!”

  Everything inside her stopped and then restarted in double speed. Her heart pounded. Her breathing quickened. Her stomach jumped. It was like she could feel everything individually. In slow motion.

  “I...”

  She didn’t know what to say. Was afraid to believe it.

  “Your urine test came back positive. That’s why, once we’ve started the monthly injections, we always check.”

  “But I had a period.” A light one. Really light. But that wasn’t all that unusual for her when she was stressed.

  Putting a hand on Mallory’s, Dr. Miller said, “You’re pregnant, sweetie.”

  She was pregnant? As in...right then, right there, inside her, she had a new baby? She wasn’t just Mallory Harris, divorced mother of a deceased child anymore?

  She was an expectant mother?

  “I ovulated,” she said through a dry throat, swallowing to try to fix that malady.

  “An ovulation test will commonly show up positive if you’re pregnant.”

  She hadn’t known that.

  “I’m pregnant?”

  “Four weeks,” Dr. Miller was still smiling. “That’s one benefit to insemination—no guessing as to gestation timing.”

  Mallory sat there in her gown, the blanket wrapped around her, hugging her stomach, and nodded.

  “You’ll need to see your OB as soon as possible,” the doctor continued, talking about vitamins, prenatal care, the rounds of tests she’d be going through. Most of which she’d done with Tucker, too. “I’m recommending that they do a six-week ultrasound,” she said. “It’s common with fertility and insemination procedures, just to make certain that everything is okay.”

  She added Mallory’s projected due date: December 10th. And then said, “I’ll leave you to get dressed. It was nice meeting you, Mallory. Good luck and Merry Christmas!”

  The woman was out the door and Mallory sat there with her mouth hanging open.

  Merry Christmas! Last Christmas she’d been on a boat with friends, feeling more alone than she’d ever felt in her life.

  By next Christmas she was going to be a family again. A mother. With her own baby to hold. Assuming everything was okay.

  I’m recommending that they do a six-week ultrasound...just to make certain that everything is okay.

  As she remembered Dr. Miller’s words, fear struck. Instantaneous and sharp.

  Assuming all went well with that, she’d have to get past the five-month mark before she’d really be home free.

  No. Shaking her head, she slid to her feet, reaching for her clothes with shaking hands. She wasn’t going to let fear rule her life. Her past would not steal from her future.

  She was going to be a mother again! That was this moment’s truth.

  Her mind would remain firmly on what was, not on what could be.

  She would control her fear.

  Reality was she had a baby growing inside her!

  Holy crap!

  The Elliott Clinic was not far off the freeway. Using his GPS to find a nearby place for a quick lunch, he’d texted Mallory with the address. She was already there when he arrived. Already seated among a far wall of booths, all filled with well-dressed, mostly business-looking patrons. The two men right behind her seemed to be in serious discussion.

  Just as he’d been the day before when he’d met with his top investor.

  At the moment, he envied those two men. He’d much rather be talking money than telling his ex-wife that he was dating again. If he and Anna did hook up on a more serious basis, he’d need to make certain that he didn’t have to dread an emotional conversation like the one that could be potentially ahead.

  Him dating wasn’t that big of a deal. He’d told Mallory half a dozen times about going out with various different women.

  But Anna was different.

  She was L.A. The start of his new life.

  At least that’s how he feared Mallory was going to see it. She’d make a bigger deal of it than it was at the moment.

  She’d ask him if her suspicions were true.

  And he wouldn’t be able to deny them, because, at some point in the future, they might be.

  She’d already ordered their tea. It was sitting on the table as he slid into his side of the booth. Not able to meet her eyes, his gaze dropped to the table and met her breasts just above it. They looked fabulous in a purple shirt. Just fabulous.

  “I ordered you a grilled chicken sandwich with sweet potato fries,” she told him. “Sorry, but I need to get back.”

  “No, that’s great.” Lifting his gaze, he smiled at her. She looked radiant and for a second his penis came more fully to life. Was she that happy to see him?

  Then he caught himself.

  She’d just been inseminated again, so of course she looked radiant.

  What was with all of his overreaction around this woman? Was her emotional approach to life contagious? Something he’d caught when they’d been married, like some disease he couldn’t shake?

  It had been three years, and now he’d suddenly had a relapse?

  “Look, I know we don’t have much time, so I just need to tell you right away. I can’t do the L.A. daycare thing, Braden. I appreciate the offer so much. And you’re right, it could be a great thing, but I’ve decided to pass on your offer.”

  Everything settled inside him. He was calm. Analytical. Himself again.

  “Why? Other than the initial investment for start-up, which I told you I’d loan you at today’s rate minus a percent due to the fact that I stand to benefit from the deal, this won’t be a drain on you. Especially if you let someone else manage the place for you, with cameras installed so you don’t keep feeling like you have to run up and check on things. And it will ensure your future security.”

  He thought it had all been worked out. The idea made sense. He was going to do the daycare. The business plan had already shown itself highly successful in San Diego. Someone was going to benefit. Might as well be someone he cared about.

  “Bes
ides, with your philosophies, your hiring of employees, your oversight, I know that the daycare will be the asset I need it to be so my future tenants feel comfortable leaving their kids there. And you have no problem offering the lower rates for tenants because you’ve already seen how, in the end, you benefit financially from the built-in clients.

  “Added to that, we’ve got the success of The Bouncing Ball in San Diego to show them. Prospective tenants who would be daycare clients can drive down and visit you there to see the great environment you have to offer them.”

  He might have kept right on talking if their food hadn’t been delivered.

  She’d ordered half a grilled chicken sandwich with a cup of soup and dug right in.

  “So?” he asked after he’d taken the edge off with a couple of bites.

  She shook her head. “It sounds good, Bray, but I can’t.”

  The woman wasn’t budging. Studying her, he didn’t get it.

  Which was probably why they were divorced.

  He wanted her to get it.

  He wanted her to be part of the L.A. venture. It made practical, financial sense.

  She’d be taken care of. And he could move on more easily.

  “I’ll be there to check on things,” he told her. “You know I wouldn’t let anything untoward happen. I’ve got your back. I always have.”

  Her smile made him hungry for sex again.

  “I know, and that’s why I can’t do it.”

  Throwing a hand up he said, “I don’t get it.”

  “The whole point of your move to L.A. was to start your own life. To move on. We both know that means moving on from me. From us. How are you going to do that if I follow along with you?”

  “I’ll have an entirely new life in L.A. Living in a new place, hanging out with new people.” Like Anna. And others he’d met in the past weeks. Guys who’d invited him to play golf. A bar he’d found where there were high-stakes dart tournaments. He’d been pretty good at darts in college.

  Her look had him stumped. Was it pity he saw on her face?

  No, but...something.

  “Answer me this. If it wasn’t for the fact that we both know life was growing stagnant and had to change, that we needed a break between us...if this was just a business venture, would you accept the offer?”

  “Probably. As you said, it makes sense in a lot of ways.”

  “So let’s table this for now, okay? Think about it some more. See how it goes with me in L.A. and you in San Diego. I think you’ll see that the distance we need will be there.”

  She shook her head. “I know I need to say no, Bray.”

  “Please,” he pushed. Because he couldn’t not. The plan made perfect sense for both of them. And then something occurred to him. She’d had to fight hard to recover from the panic attacks and fear that had beset her in the early days after Tucker’s death. They’d only lasted a month or two, but the fact that they’d happened at all had scared her. “Are you afraid you can’t let go of me?”

  Her gaze shot up. He got hot again.

  “I’m pregnant, Bray.”

  He dropped his sandwich. At first he didn’t even notice. All he could see was the glow in her eyes, that odd look again. It wasn’t pity. It was compassion. Her “mother” look, he’d once dubbed it. He should have known.

  “But you said you had your—”

  “I did. But they did a test this morning and it turns out I’m pregnant.”

  Hmm.

  Well.

  Whoa.

  He nodded a bit.

  And when he thought maybe he had assimilated the situation he said, “I’m seeing someone.”

  Chapter Eleven

  That first weekend Mallory was consumed with baby buying. She’d done Tucker’s room in yellows and greens, giraffes, elephants and monkeys. This time around she chose primary colors, balloons and bears, mostly. And she bought a new crib—she’d gotten rid of Tucker’s the day he’d been taken from it—in a new style, too; instead of brown, white this time with a changing table to match. She filled her car and went back a second time, filling it again.

  If you build it, they will come. The phrase came to her from somewhere in her past. From a movie about baseball fields. She couldn’t remember when she’d seen it or with whom, but since the words presented themselves out of the blue, she took them to heart.

  She’d build the nursery and her baby would come.

  And then she was done.

  There’d be more to add as the months passed. Outfits, diapers, cute things she’d pick up for the room as she saw them. And a rocker—she was thinking old-fashioned this time, not the glider kind she’d had before. But, for the most part, what had taken her months the first time around was done in three days.

  No researching was necessary this time. She knew what kind of swing she preferred and why; she had them at the daycare. Car seat, portable crib, bouncy seat and high chair, too. She was a woman who knew pretty much everything about baby paraphernalia—down to the style of breast pump.

  By Sunday afternoon she was satisfied with how the room across the hall from hers looked. Liked how the portable crib fit into her room’s decor.

  And then she panicked. What if something happened? What if she miscarried? Should she have waited until she’d passed the critical three-month stage? What if she’d jinxed things? Like she’d left Tucker that night?

  If you build it, they will come.

  She wasn’t jinxing; she was building.

  Heart pounding, she concentrated on slowing her air intake so she didn’t hyperventilate. She drew in deeper breaths as she thanked God that Braden wasn’t around to witness her weekend.

  Then she called Tamara.

  * * *

  Having driven to San Diego on Saturday to retrieve his boat and dock her in her new home not far from the hotel where he was staying, Braden took Anna out on the water Sunday. She wasn’t into fishing—or sunbathing, either, for that matter. But she had a great time captaining the boat when he offered her the wheel, laughing when she hit a wake. Right behind her, his arms wrapping her as he taught her, he laughed, too.

  And he told himself that this was living.

  But later that afternoon, when they docked and she made it clear that she was open to them spending the rest of the day—and the night—together, he chose to get back to work. He had meetings in the morning—Braden Property Management business, not new build business—and needed to prepare.

  Mallory was pregnant. It was right that he let Anna know before he had sex with her. Just in case she had a problem with it.

  He didn’t expect she would. Didn’t see why she would.

  Still, with Mallory’s news still so fresh, he was pretty certain the decent thing was to let Anna know.

  He called Mal on the way back to his hotel, figuring he’d get her opinion on the matter. She was a woman. She’d probably know better than he how to present their situation to his potential girlfriend. She didn’t pick up.

  Out baby shopping, he was sure. Ever since she’d told him she was expecting again, he was remembering how she’d been the first time, so he was certain he could predict her actions, even down to the stores she’d visit. It would take months. She’d think of nothing else outside of work.

  At first, he’d been as bad as she was. The memory creeped in as he pulled into the underground parking garage and took the elevator up to his suite. He’d heard of an out-of-the-way spot that sold handmade nursery furniture and he’d called Mallory, convincing her to go with him to see if they could get the crib she wanted.

  He’d been willing to play hooky but she’d made them wait until Saturday.

  They’d painted the nursery together. He’d accidentally bumped into her with the roller. She’d given him such a saucy look he’d slid it up her shirt. And then dropped it. And his pants.
About as quickly as she’d dropped hers.

  Lovemaking had always been like that with them. Spontaneous. Intense. All the time.

  Until she’d started to pull back. He’d understood. It had been getting harder and harder for her to find a comfortable position just to sit or lie down. Having him in her space, on her space, hadn’t helped.

  He’d told himself that after the baby was born things would return to normal.

  Instead there’d been a new normal. Mallory had become a mother.

  Being a wife didn’t seem to interest her anymore.

  Until that last night.

  Maybe he’d been too impatient and hadn’t given her enough time to adjust. It was the first time in her life she’d been aware of being with biological family. Of course that had to have had an effect on her.

  She’d needed him to sit with her.

  He’d needed her to have sex with him. Or even just sit with him.

  To matter.

  He couldn’t blame her for how she’d felt, how motherhood had completed her. None of what she had done had been wrong. She’d been a great mom. A working mom.

  And it wasn’t like she hadn’t still talked to Braden, asked about his day.

  It hadn’t just been the lack of sex, either, though.

  When she’d looked at him, it had been like she wasn’t really seeing him. She was seeing whatever Tucker was doing, even if he was in his crib asleep.

  And when he’d talked, at least one ear had always been listening to or for the baby. She’d carried that damned monitor everywhere.

  He’d started to resent the thing. Which was why he’d pushed so hard to have her to himself for one night.

  It had been quite a night. The best sex ever. And more, Mallory had seen him again. Heard him. She’d cared that he was there seeing her, loving her. He’d thought that night had solved their problems. He’d been ready to head back home to their son and give her the time she’d needed to adjust, figuring that she’d be paying more attention to him, too.

  Instead, they’d gotten the call...and after that, everything just went from horrible to worse.

 

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