by Jayne Rylon
Besides, they’d been far too quiet for that.
Everyone held their breath.
“I’m pregnant.”
No one noticed the tight smile Morgan and Joe exchanged. If they caught the tears falling from the corner of her eyes, they would assume they were manufactured by joy, not sadness. Because she hadn’t shared the news they’d received when their tests had come back from the doctor yesterday. Hadn’t quite finished processing it really.
Joe was sterile.
No baby grew in her womb, and it never would. Unless…
She couldn’t dare to think such things when her friends celebrated one of the most magnificent events of their life. She’d have time to grieve later. Until then, she’d be the best aunt this child could hope for and take comfort in her friends’ bliss.
It wouldn’t be all sunshine and roses. She’d help them every step of the way, as they would have done for her if the situation had been reversed. Her own upbringing had taught her that a family is what you make it, not what you’re given genetically.
The crew was a perfect example of that.
Joe’s hand shook when it landed on her waist. She smiled up at him, hoping to erase some of the tight crinkles around his eyes. He suffered too. Maybe more than her. She’d promised him it didn’t change anything between them. She loved him as much today as yesterday, more as each day grew the miraculous bond between them.
Still, after hugging Kate and taking his turn at offering felicitations, he stumbled from the room.
“What’s wrong with Joe?” Kate paused, searching Morgan’s eyes for signs of trouble. If she wasn’t careful, her best friend would ferret out the drama and have them swaddled in her mothering before they’d properly celebrated her revelation.
“He’s not feeling well. Probably doesn’t want to risk getting you sick.” She squeezed Kate’s hand, hating herself for the lie. “I’d better go check on him.”
“Okay.” Kate chewed her lip. “Let me know if there’s anything you need. Either of you.”
“We will.” Morgan smiled without a hint of pretense. “You’re going to be the best mom in the history of the universe. I can’t wait to spoil him or her.”
“Him.” Mike’s arms folded across his chest. “I wouldn’t know what the hell to do with a daughter. She’d be all gorgeous like her mom and I’d have to lock her up until she was seventy to keep boys from corrupting her.”
“Oh, I can just see it now.” Morgan patted the foreman on his puffed-up chest. “You’re in so much trouble. A daughter it is.”
“Shush.” His face blanched a bit. “I could handle one little girl with my hands tied behind my back, right?”
“That’s what he said,” Kayla sing-songed. The eight friends cramped in the kitchen erupted into laughter at the horror in Mike’s wide eyes. The raucous cheering still echoed in Morgan’s ears as she burst from the house in search of her husband.
They would get through this. As long as they stuck together.
She scanned the deck and found it empty, so she jogged down the stairs and around the corner to the backyard. Joe leaned against a tree, his hands jammed in his pockets, head hanging, breathing hard.
Her heart broke all over again.
She slowed as she approached. As always, he knew when she was near. “Sorry. Just needed a minute.”
Morgan threaded her hands between his bent elbows and his sides. She splayed one hand low on his flat abdomen and the other over his chest, infusing him with as much warmth as she could impart in the chilly afternoon air.
For a while they rested there together. She counted the beats of his heart as it slowed from pounding beneath her hand to a moderate thump. Eyes closed, she could have stayed there with him forever. Long before she was ready to let go, he roused, shifting in her hold.
He pivoted on his boot heel, turning to face her.
“That was really selfish. Shit.” He scrubbed his hand through his hair, making it stick up in adorable disarray. She wondered if he’d remembered to make an appointment to get it cut.
“I don’t think so.” She reached up to cup his cheek. He leaned into her caress, heaving a sigh of relief or self-deprecation, she couldn’t quite tell. “You’re allowed to grieve. But don’t shut me out. We’re in this together, right?”
“Sorry for your luck.” A rare fury entered his eyes, no doubt directed at himself.
Morgan had never had the urge to smack someone before. She yanked her hand away as if singed and took a hasty step back. She stumbled over a root from the gnarled old oak and would have fallen on her ass if he hadn’t snagged her out of midair.
He buried his face in her hair, which she’d worn loose today just for him, and breathed deep. In the bakery, she always kept it in a bun. “I’m fucking this all to hell and back.”
She separated them enough to grin long and slow. “Come on. You know you want to say it.”
“No, I don’t.” How did he manage to be so fucking cute even when he pouted?
She chucked his chin. “Sure, you do. It’s pretty fun once you get the hang of it.”
“Fine. That’s what he said.” A ghost of a smile touched his extra-fine lips.
She couldn’t help but smother it in a kiss until it blossomed into his radiant grin. “I love you, Joe. There are other ways. We can adopt. Something. Maybe being an aunt and uncle will be enough.”
His grimace called her bluff.
The back door banged open hard enough to be a warning.
“Hey, are you all right, Joe?” Dave clomped along the deck, giving them plenty of heads up as he approached.
“Yeah,” Joe called. He hugged Morgan. “I will be.”
“In that case, the girls are pitching a fit because you booked it before they could unveil their big deal.” Dave probably rolled his eyes. “You’re going to have to be on your deathbed, or hurling at least, if you don’t get your ass inside soon.”
“I promise you’ll enjoy this.” Morgan stroked his cheek, surreptitiously swiping the lingering moisture at the corner of his eye before his crewmate could spot it. She hated keeping secrets, but this wasn’t the right time to share their disappointment. “It’s not very often that I get to surprise you.”
“I don’t deserve you.” He dropped his head to her shoulder.
She would have ripped him a new one, then smothered him in affection until he couldn’t deny the breadth of her love except Dave rounded the corner of the deck just then, spotting them.
“You sure everything’s cool?” The big man chewed his lip.
“I love you.” Morgan rubbed as much of his back as she could reach in their embrace.
“That’s everything to me,” Joe whispered in her ear. “We can survive anything as long as we have each other, right?”
“Right.” She squeezed him tight.
“I’m sure.” Joe enveloped her hand in his, then headed toward his friend. “We will be okay.”
“If there’s anything I can do…” Dave lost his jovial mask.
“Not right now.” Joe shook his head.
Morgan’s eyes burned when Dave hugged Joe and her husband didn’t resist.
Then, as if by some Jedi mind trick, the two men snapped into their usual routine. “Probably have some pussy hangnail, is that it?”
“Yeah, just like that time you cried over the splinter.” Joe socked Dave in his biceps. His loose fist bounced off a wall of muscle.
“Dude. That was a four-inch sliver of wood, and it went through my fucking hand.”
Morgan had wondered how he’d earned the jagged scar. The crew had plenty of those.
“Flesh wound.” Joe snugged Morgan tight to his torso as they climbed the deck stairs.
She wrapped her arm around his waist and rested her head near his heart. When they reentered the space, the whole crew looked up. Dave gave his head a barely discernible shake, so they all went about their business.
“Okay, ready?” Devon practically bounced next to a flat rectang
le covered by a sheet.
Morgan took her place next to a similar package, the only one left that didn’t have one of her best friends standing nearby. She fisted her hands in the soft, worn material draping it and winked up at Joe.
“We realize we’re a day early, but since we all have plans tomorrow, we wanted to give you your gifts today. Together. Happy Valentine’s Day,” Kate said to Mike. The rest of them echoed the sentiment.
“One…two…”
They whipped the covers off the framed photos simultaneously.
Someone whistled, maybe James.
“Whoa.” Joe crouched in front of the artwork. He trailed his finger over the likeness of her, reverence in every brush of his fingertip.
“I think I’m having a heart attack.” Dave clutched his chest. “Please tell me you kept this outfit.”
“I’ll show you tomorrow.” Kayla smirked.
The guys rushed to their wives, showing them exactly how much they loved their gifts—so much more than the physical presents the women had schemed to concoct. Mike swung Kate into his arms and twirled her around the kitchen while his best friends paired, or trebled, off to indulge in some one-on-one, or -two, affection.
“You know, our evil plot was to use these to take you as our horny hostages and issue tons of naughty demands…” Kate shrugged. “But you’ve already given us everything we wished for and more.”
Mike pried his stare away from the likeness of his wife in her sexy lace catsuit long enough to glance over his shoulder at the rest of the crew and nod. He cleared his throat. “That’s what we said.”
For all my readers.
You have made this a landmark year in my writing career. By helping me reach several major milestones—like hitting the New York Times Bestseller list with my great friend and co-author, Mari Carr, and winning an RT Reviewer’s Choice Award for Best Erotic Romance of the year—you’ve propelled me several giant steps closer to my dream of one day being able to proudly declare that I am full-time writer.
Thank you for your support.
1
“Awwww.” Morgan’s three best friends melted as Kate withdrew her latest purchases from the pink-and-blue-striped, lamb-dotted Cutie Patootie shopping bag to display for their approval. They passed around the itty bittiest pajama set Morgan had ever seen.
“I love the matching fuzzy socks.” Kayla grinned.
“So soft.” Devon sighed as she ran the tip of her index finger across the plush fabric.
“Do you think they’ll be warm enough?” Kate nibbled at the inside of her cheek, highlighting her dimples. “Or maybe too thick?”
“Don’t worry so much, Katiebug,” Neil chimed in from where he—along with the other four guys in the crew—slathered cheery green paint on one wall of the nursery. “Your girl’s probably going to kick them off anyway. My sister’s kids always seemed to strip and have their toes in their mouth in half a second flat.”
“Look, it could be a boy. There’s no telling yet.” Mike paused with his roller in the middle of the patch of color he’d focused on. His lack of typical gusto made it seem as if even he didn’t believe the mantra he’d recited for nearly three months now.
“How much longer do we have to wait to say, ‘I told you so’?” Dave dodged a half-hearted swipe from Mike. Not fast enough to avoid minty splatters on his already Pollock-esque coveralls. “The ultrasound is next week, right?”
“Whoa. Stop that right there.” Kate wagged her finger at the guys. “No paint fights today. The baby will not be happy if you mess up her gorgeous new hardwood floors. A little drop cloth is no match for you when you get riled up.”
“Last time I checked, you liked it when I got riled up.” Mike smirked until her admonishment sank in. “Hold up. Her floor? No. No. No. Whose side are you on?”
He pouted, the roller forgotten in his hand, which dangled by his knee as his shoulders slumped.
“The one that gives us a healthy baby of either gender.” She rolled her eyes at his exaggerated antics.
“You know I am too.” Mike cleared his throat, drawing her attention to the lump of emotion he struggled to swallow around, making Morgan wonder what it would be like to see such awe on her husband, Joe’s, face. “It scares me a little, that’s all. A baby is so tiny already. So delicate. The thought of a girl half as beautiful as you and the hell I’ll have keeping her safe from teenaged horn-dogs…”
James snorted and clasped his middle. “Oh, karma. Gotta love that bitch.”
“Seriously, though…” Mike squinted down at his wife, who rubbed her rounded belly in cathartic circles. “What made you say that?”
“I don’t know.” Kate practically glowed, despite her shrug. “I just…have a feeling. And I keep dreaming about her. I see you sitting there in the corner, on a white rocking chair with a frilly pink cushion, holding our daughter while she sleeps. It feels so real.”
Mike set the roller in the tray and crossed to his wife. He wiped his hands on his pants before cupping her cheeks in his trembling fingers. “You saw her?”
“Yeah.” Tears tracked down the slightly puffy cheeks of Morgan’s best friend. “Both of you together, and knew I could never be more in love.”
Morgan couldn’t stand upright another moment. The precious outfit she’d crumpled in her fist fluttered to the floor as her fingers went numb. She realized Kate didn’t intend for every word to eviscerate her as viciously as if she’d slashed Morgan with a thousand paring knives simultaneously. Still, the ragged cries clawing at her vocal cords threatened to rip free of her throat if she didn’t escape the reminder of all she’d never have.
She squeezed past the couple, lost in each other.
When Kate’s full abdomen brushed Morgan, she flinched as if scorched. The drop cloth twisted around her foot and she stumbled. Joe reached for her. She couldn’t bear to look her husband in the eye, afraid he might recognize her pain. Never would she add to his burdens.
Except it seemed even without intending to, she had. Their relationship had grown strained lately. The more she tried to protect him, the more he seemed to blame himself, and today was no different.
“I’m sorry, Mo,” his ragged whisper chased her as she fled the scene of adorable bliss.
Lousy friend.
Horrible partner.
Failure of a wife.
“Morgan.” Mike’s command boomed from the top of the stairs she clattered down. “Stop. Right now. You’re going to hurt yourself.”
Something in her obeyed the foreman instinctively. Still, she couldn’t force herself to turn and face him. Ashamed, she dashed tears from her cheeks with the heels of her hands. Before she figured out what direction to go next, strong arms surrounded her, lifted her.
She scrunched her lids closed and buried her face in the chest supporting her, too broad to be her husband’s or Mike’s. Definitely too big for James or Neil. “Dave.”
“I’ve got you, doll.” The gentle giant had reached her first. He carried her into the living room where she soon found herself surrounded by friends and lovers.
At times like this, she couldn’t have been more certain the crew had evolved into something beyond a gang of friends who doubled as fuck buddies. These eight people—five construction workers and the women they’d made their life partners—shared a bond stronger than sex.
When she peeked from the shelter of Dave’s embrace, her gaze locked on her husband as if drawn by a rare-earth magnet. The rest of the group closed rank around them, shuffling Joe to the center of the semi-circle flanking the couch.
Hands guided him, pressing on his shoulders until he sank beside her.
Acid ate holes in her stomach when he sat, stiff. Leaning away from her, he was careful not to touch a single molecule of her legs, bare beneath the hem of her flirty sundress.
“Enough.” Mike shattered their perpetual cycle of guilt, pain and self-loathing. “This is insane. I refuse to watch two of my best friends ruining the most amazing thing in
their lives. Dave, give her back to Joe.”
When the big man kissed her forehead and shifted to transfer her, Joe sighed. “I’m not sure you should force her, Mike. I wouldn’t want me either. I’m defective. Useless.”
Then no one needed to prod her.
Morgan launched herself at her husband. In her peripheral vision, she caught a glimpse of Kayla hugging Dave, since her mate had been left empty-handed. Morgan and Joe weren’t the only ones suffering. Their agony and disappointment radiated outward, tainting everyone who loved them.
How selfish had she been?
“Joe.” She straddled his lap. Still he refused to lift his stare from his limp hands. They rested, palms up, on the cushions beside his powerful thighs and her pale knees. “Please, look at me.”
When he granted her request, the torment in his stare stole her breath. Ten times more potent than the loss and regret she harbored because he couldn’t get her pregnant, his misery ripped her heart from shreds into tatters.
“I’m so sorry,” they murmured in unison.
A multitude of hands rubbed Morgan’s back and Joe’s arms, which banded around her. She spied her friends stroking her husband’s powerful shoulders from either side of him, where they had crowded beside and behind the couple on the couch.
“You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing. You hear me?” Morgan shook her man, though he barely budged.
“Sure, right. Then why are you pulling away from me?” The laugh lines at the corner of his eyes had all but vanished from disuse. Tension drew them tight, repurposing them into deep gouges in the planes of his usually affable visage. “You can’t even bear to be in the same room as me most of the time. I don’t remember the last night I fell asleep with you in my arms, or woke to you snuggled next to me. You think I don’t know you’re stalling when you’re downstairs baking until two in the morning? Napping on the couch for a few hours before preparing for the early rush? This is bullshit. I can’t take anymore. Just cut me loose already. I can’t survive another day wondering if it’s the last. The one when you finally admit you deserve better. This resentment is going to poison everything we shared. I don’t hold it against you. I understand, cupcake. I can’t give you what you need.”
