Getting It Now!

by Rhonda Nelson

  Bracing herself with a shuddering breath, Carrie finally turned around. Looking more mussed and frazzled than she’d ever seen him, Philip stood a few feet from her, an agonizingly anxious expression on his face, which unfortunately made her aching heart squeeze. Even completely in the wrong, he still man aged to affect her.

  He pushed a hand through his hair, looked away, then found her gaze once more. “If you’ll just give me a moment of your time, I promise I—”

  “It’ll have to be a moment,” Carrie told him, walk ing toward him. “My friends are waiting to take me home.”

  His eyes widened, then, “Er…I could give you a lift,” he offered hopefully.

  Absolutely not. “I don’t think—”

  “Please,” he interrupted and there was something so humble and heart-wrenching about the sincerity in his voice that Carrie finally nodded and told them not to wait for her.

  “You’re sure?” April asked. “We can go to the car and—”

  Carrie shook her head. “I’ll be fine.”

  Frankie gave her a squeeze. “Call me if you need to.”

  “You’re going on your honeymoon,” Carrie reminded her, touched by her friend’s unfailing support.

  “Ah, hell. We’ve been on a honeymoon since we met,” Frankie told her, her dark brown eyes drifting over to her husband. “This is more like a vacation…with extra sex.”

  Carrie chuckled despite herself. “Have a good time.”

  Finally the hall cleared and only she and Philip were left standing there. Philip shoved his hands into his pockets and his silvery gaze moved over her face, lingered around her eyes, which were no doubt puffy and swollen. “I’ve been looking for you today,” he finally managed.

  Carrie didn’t speak. She wasn’t going to make this easy on him. He’d been wrong. She didn’t owe him the courtesy of a single word.

  When it was obvious that she didn’t intend to respond, Philip let go a small breath. “I went by your house, then remembered the wedding when you weren’t there. It took me a little over an hour to find the tree, but by the time I’d arrived, there were only a couple of guys left loading things into your car. They directed me here, said that Zora had gone into labor. Has she delivered?” Philip asked.

  “A couple of hours ago. A little girl.”

  That faintly crooked smile appeared. “Oh, good. Both are well?”

  Carrie nodded. Then waited.

  Philip hesitated worriedly. “Carrie, I…” He let go a heavy breath, shook his head. “I, uh—I don’t even know where to begin.”

  She started to suggest with an apology, but held her tongue. He’d put her through total hell. He’d underestimated her, embarrassed her, hurt her feelings and ultimately broken her heart yesterday. He’d lifted her up this week, then dropped her without the least amount of provocation on her part.

  If this was hard for him, then it should be, dammit. Though a part of her ached for him—knew that he was trying to fix things—the wounded part of her knew that Philip needed to do this on his own, without any prodding or help on her part. Forgiveness wasn’t cheap and if asking for it was too high a price for him, then, much as it would hurt her, she didn’t want him.

  His gaze tangled with hers. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice a mix sincerity and despair.

  Her silly heart grew cautiously hopeful, but she managed to restrain herself from jumping into his arms.

  “This would be easier if you’d done something wrong, if you could take even a small part of the blame,” he said. He shook his head, offered a help less smile and shrugged. “But you can’t because you didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t leap to inaccurate conclusions or cut me to the quick as a result of that stupidity. And you did what I didn’t have the guts to do—you quit.”

  Bad news for the ice cream companies, Carrie thought, because it didn’t look as if they’d be getting her brokenhearted business. She saw something in Philip’s gaze that she’d been waiting for her entire adult life. Something as precious as love, but which didn’t often get the attention it deserved because, in her opinion, you couldn’t have one without the other.

  Respect.

  “I can’t believe you did that,” Philip told her, seemingly awed. “You have more character and strength, more intelligence and integrity than any woman I have ever met.”

  Damn it all to hell, she was going to cry again. Nervous energy made her want to bounce on the balls of her feet.

  “And I’m in love with you,” he said, delivering the coup de grâce. His woefully familiar silvery eyes searched hers. “Say something,” he implored. “Anything. Thanks, but no, thanks. Keep your heart, Philip. Go to hell, Philip. Sod off, Philip.” He grimaced, inclined his head. “Or, I accept your apology and I love you, too, Philip.” He pretended to consider it. “Actually, if I’m to get a say, the last option works best for me.”

  It did for her, too, Carrie thought. She felt a smile slide around her lips and her heart warmed with equal parts of hope and happiness. She moved forward, slid her arms around his waist and placed a reverent kiss against his heart. She heard Philip’s breath catch and a relieved sigh leak out.

  “I accept your apology and I love you, too, Philip.”

  Smiling, he drew back and looked down at her upturned face. “See, now. That was quite efficient, wasn’t it?”

  Then he lowered his head and efficiently kissed the hell out of her.

  Epilogue

  Eight and a half months later…

  CARRIE SIPPED HER CLUB SODA and fondly watched her husband of six months play a game of pool with Ben, Ross and Tate across the room. From the looks of things, Tate and Ross were sharing pregnant-wife-and-new-mother tips, and thankfully, Ben and Philip were clinging to the advice.

  As well they should, since both she and April were pregnant and Frankie was due practically any day now.

  Occasionally passersby would pause outside the windows of the Blue Monkey Pub and stare at the festivities inside. No doubt trying to figure out why anyone would host a baby shower at a bar, Carrie thought. Oh, well. It wasn’t anyone else’s business. This little pub had played an unwittingly significant role in their lives and somehow it only seemed fitting that they celebrate impending births here.

  Frankie held up the little pink dress that Carrie had picked up in a specialty shop on the Isle of Wight—Philip’s home away from home, which Carrie had fallen instantly in love with—and smiled delightedly. “This is beautiful, Carrie. Thanks!”

  Caroline Francesca Dawn—better known as Frannie—gurgled contentedly in her mother’s lap. “Could we move along to the big announcement, please?” Zora asked. “I want to know what you’re naming my future godchild.”

  Frankie grinned. “What makes you think my big announcement has anything to do with what we’re naming this baby?”

  “Intuition,” Zora replied archly.

  “Well, for once you’re wrong.” She put a hand on the side of her big belly. “If I told you what I planned on naming this baby, then I’d be telling you the sex of the child, and like you,” she needled significantly, “I’m not giving that up.”

  “But you know?” Carrie asked.

  Frankie merely smiled. “Of course.”

  April goggled at her. “Then why on earth didn’t you tell us so that we’d know whether to buy for a boy or a girl?” She glanced at the huge pile forming on the table next to Frankie. “Who’s going to haul back the stuff you won’t be able to use?”

  Practical as always, Carrie thought, smiling at her friend. But she was right. Zora purposely avoided finding out the sex of her baby because she’d wanted to be surprised at the birth. But if Frankie already knew…

  Intrigued, Carrie paused and considered her friend. What on earth was up with her?

  April leaned over. “Have you thought about what you’re naming your little bambino?” she asked.

  “Firmed up any first choices?”

  Since she and Philip had married beneath the tree as
well—then had later gone back and honeymooned there, which was when she’d conceived—Carrie and Philip were considering a couple of names significant to the occasion. “Actually, yes. Rowan, if it’s a girl. Ash, if it’s a boy.”

  April eyes sparkled and she chewed the inside of her cheek. “Tree names, eh?”

  Carrie shared the significant part. “What about you and Ben? What have y’all come up with?”

  “Willow for a girl, and we were also considering Ash for a boy,” she added with a slight wince. “It’ll be a race to the delivery room to claim that one, won’t it?” April teased. She and April were due mere days apart.

  Carrie felt a grin tug at her lips. “That tree’s seen a lot of action, hasn’t it?”

  April chuckled. “It would seem so.” She paused. “How are things at the restaurant?”

  “Couldn’t be better,” Carrie told her. Philip had bought out his contract with the network as well and, since both of them had been out of work and wondering what to do next, Frankie had glibly suggested that a restaurant would be the perfect way to capitalize on both their talents and their notoriety.

  She’d been right.

  Penny’s, so named in honor of the little sister Philip had lost, had been booked solid for the first six months before the doors had even opened. It was the best of both worlds, Carrie thought. She and Philip been able to combine the art of cooking with the drama of their personalities and the result had been a successful restaurant which was garnering worldwide attention. Her gaze slid to her husband once more and a bolt of pure joy landed squarely in her chest. She couldn’t be happier.

  Frankie tapped her spoon against her glass, garnering everyone’s attention. Ross looked up, took that as his cue and moved in behind his wife and placed his hands on her shoulders.

  Carrie smiled as she felt Philip do the same. She bent her head back and offered her mouth for a kiss, then watched as the other two roosters quickly ambled over and found their CHiCs.

  “I promised you all a big announcement,” Frankie said, her sly gaze sweeping the room. “And I don’t think that it’s going to disappoint. Some of you thought we planned to reveal a name tonight,” she said, looking pointedly at Zora. Her gaze then darted to April and Carrie. “And some of you Type-A anal-retentive wonder girls have been puzzled over the fact that, even though Ross and I know the sex of this baby—” again she placed her hand over the left side of her belly “—we didn’t disclose that information and made you all buy gifts for both a girl and a boy.”

  Carrie’s eyes widened, she gasped and covered her hand with her mouth.

  Frankie grinned at her. “That’s because we’re not having one baby—we’re having two! A boy and a girl, Quenton Ross, Jr., and Liliana Grace, respectively.” She nodded primly as the room erupted with squeals and shouts of joy.

  “You sneak!” Zora told her. “How long have you known this?”

  “Since my fourth month.”

  “And you didn’t tell?” she asked incredulously. “How could you not tell?” she demanded, flabbergasted.

  Frankie and Ross shared a tender look. “It was our little secret,” she said. Her eyes twinkled. “Besides, this was a lot more fun.”

  Carrie shook her head and chuckled, her gaze drifting from happy couple to happy couple. Philip’s warm breath suddenly breezed against her ear, causing a shiver of heat to pulse through her. “That was certainly interesting,” he said. “Never a dull moment, eh?”

  Ben heard him and simply laughed. “Not in this hen house,” he said laughingly.

  “Hey,” April scolded. “We might be nesting now, but don’t ever forget that we’re CHiCs at heart.”

  “Hear, hear,” Carrie seconded, and raised her glass. Zora’s and Frankie’s soon joined the fray. “To Chicks in Charge,” Zora said softly, their customary toast, and they all happily echoed the sentiment.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-5430-9

  GETTING IT NOW!

  Copyright © 2005 by Rhonda Nelson.

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