by Cara Colter
Sharp pain zigzagged across his chest at the thought.
Both volunteers turned to him, expectation and protectiveness of Abby in their eyes. He couldn’t blame them. He felt like beating the crap out of him, too, for doing this. He deserved worse if he’d made her pregnant.
Judy crossed her arms over her chest, her head bent slightly to one side, as if to say, Well?
Uh-huh. He wasn’t going to have that conversation with two strangers watching, listening to every word.
Abby wasn’t pregnant. And if she was…Hell, he didn’t know what they’d do if she was.
Regardless, that was a private conversation. Not one for women he’d just met, even if they were longtime friends of Abby’s and treated her like a favorite niece.
Following Abby’s lead, Dirk drew on acting skills he’d honed in the days following Sandra and Shelby’s deaths, days in which he’d been dead inside but had had to go on, puting on a front for the world. Had put on a show for his friends and family who’d not been able to look at him without pity in their eyes. Pity he’d tired of and left behind. In late spring he’d started searching for another position, knowing he couldn’t face another holiday season under their watchful gazes. In June he’d accepted the position in Philadelphia, finished up his Oak Park contract, and had started in the emergency room in October.
And met Abby. Possibly impregnated her.
“This is the last of the boxes, Abby. You ready to pack them into my truck so we can go?” God, he hoped so, because he wanted away from the prying eyes. “We’ve still got to go pick up those fruit baskets and get them delivered. Unless I can convince you to cancel out so you can rest and properly get over this virus.”
Did his voice sound normal? Or could everyone in the room hear his panic? See how his insides quavered at the thought he might have made Abby pregnant?
“I, uh…” Her hand fell away from her belly. She turned to him, her expression so tentative and vulnerable that something fragile deep in his chest cracked open and bled freely, gushing, leaving him weak. “Yes, I’m ready. Let’s get these loaded.”
Stunned by the rush of emotions, Dirk just stood, unable to move, unable to put on a show, only able to watch Abby smile briefly at the other volunteers and walk over to a far corner of the room. She had a dolly in her competent little hands within minutes.
“It’s not much,” she said, rolling the dolly toward him. “But it will do at a pinch.”
He would have welcomed any excuse to get away from the mother hens’ knowing looks. He hightailed it, boxes in tow, moving at record speed, leaving the three women alone.
Even before he’d made it out the door Judy’s excited squeal echoed throughout the building, across the city, across his stampeding heart.
“Tell me the truth. You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”
He turned, waiting at the doorway to hear Abby’s answer. The two women had practically pounced on her, were holding her hands and excitedly asking her questions.
As if sensing he still stood there, she glanced toward the doorway, met his gaze. Deep emotions shot across the room, deep pleas. Pleas for exactly what Dirk wasn’t sure, neither was he sure he wanted to know.
Abby needed him. How could he be there for her when there wasn’t anything left of him to give?
“Tell us.” Judy wrapped her arm around Abby’s shoulder in a motherly hug. “Are you pregnant or not?”
“Regardless, we love you and are here for you,” Joyce added. “You know that.”
Did they even know he still stood here? He held his breath, waiting, wondering, knowing it was impossible, knowing it was damned well possible. He’d made love to Abby quite vigorously. Twice.
“Don’t be silly and start rumors,” she said with a falsely bright voice, looking from one of the ladies to the other, then at him. Their gazes met, clung to each other.
Don’t say it, Abby. Don’t say that there is any possibility you might be pregnant.
“Of course I’m not pregnant.”
Which should have relieved him, but her eyes told a different story.
All eight of Santa’s reindeer drop-kicked Dirk in the gut at once, knocking his breath out of him and stomping him to smithereens while he was down.
Abby might be pregnant with his baby.
What had he done?
“This is crazy,” Abby protested when Dirk pulled his truck into a parking space at the pharmacy.
After his terse “We’ll talk when we’ve finished delivering” they’d continued in virtual silence. They’d delivered to the public housing residents on her list. They’d smiled and said all the appropriate things to the grateful recipients, but there had definitely been underlying tension.
Abby didn’t feel tense. Not really.
She felt numb. Perhaps in denial. Yes, she’d missed her period. Two of them. But she’d been irregular on occasion in the past, so that was the likely explanation. Certainly, she hadn’t thought anything of her missed periods. They’d always come and gone as they pleased.
Plus, there were the increased demands on her time with her Christmas volunteering. Although she loved what she did, believed one hundred percent in making the holidays brighter for others, the workload was stressful.
Stress. Stress did a lot of things to the body and could be the reason for the missed periods. She hoped it was. Really hoped it was.
Which was why she didn’t want to walk into the drugstore and buy the item she knew he’d come for, although, from the moment he’d turned off the ignition, they’d just sat in silence.
What if she was pregnant? What if the test came back positive? Then what? Hadn’t he already told her he didn’t do relationships? Yet he’d gone with her today. God, the man confused her. She really couldn’t be pregnant.
“I’m probably not.” She battled the tightening of her throat that she might be. “You used condoms.”
She was twenty-five years old. Why was her face on fire at saying the word “condom” out loud? Here they were discussing the possibility of having a baby and she was blushing over contraceptives?
Gripping the steering wheel, he stared out the windshield at some unknown object. “Women get pregnant all the time despite having used a condom.”
God, he sounded so terse, so like he hoped she wasn’t pregnant. Despite understanding and feeling exactly the same way, his reaction stung. No doubt having her pregnant with his child would be a nightmare to Dirk. After all, he’d only slept with her because they’d been grieving. Although, admittedly, the intensity of his grief had caught her off guard. But there had been sexual attraction between them, too. Lots of sexual attraction. She hadn’t imagined the sparks, the way his gaze had lingered when they’d first made eye contact, the way he’d seemed shocked by the physical awareness zipping back and forth. But women used for sex weren’t supposed to end up pregnant.
Oh, God. Dirk had used her. Two months had passed before he’d asked her out again. That had only been after she’d initiated contact outside work, after getting him to be Santa. The physical attraction was there, but obviously Dirk wasn’t interested in a relationship.
The morning they’d made love, they’d shared a physical attraction, an emotionally wrenching work experience, sex, a budding friendship, and, possibly, made a baby.
Just the thought had her hand going back over her belly. Was Dirk’s baby nestled inside her, growing and wanting to be loved? If she was pregnant, and, God, she hoped she wasn’t, but if she was, she would love this baby. A baby she and Dirk had made.
Maybe made.
“Don’t do that,” he snapped.
“What?” Startled by his outburst, she jerked around in the passenger seat to look at him.
His blanched white fingers clenched the steering wheel. His face looked just as pale. “Cover your abdomen as if…as if you are.”
Was the idea that repugnant to him? Of course it was. She was the one longing for a family, longing for someone to love, and the idea of an unplan
ned pregnancy left her in a cold sweat. No wonder Dirk was pale. Such a gorgeous man probably had loads of people to love, loads of people who loved him. A baby with a woman he’d used was the last thing he’d want or need.
Then another thought hit her. Was there someone already in his life?
Oh, God. Was that why he was so upset? Although she’d never heard of anyone special in his life, she wasn’t privy to the intimate details of his life. Actually, his private life was just that. Private. She’d never heard anyone speak of outside work activities involving the man gripping the steering wheel so tightly there was likely to be finger impressions when he let go.
“Is there someone in your life, Dirk? Someone who will be upset if I’m pregnant?”
He didn’t answer her, just gripped the steering-wheel all the tighter, his fingers digging into the dark leather. “If you’re pregnant. We need to know what we’re dealing with.”
A baby. That’s what they were dealing with. She wanted to scream at him. But she bit her tongue, reined in her anger. She couldn’t lash out. Not when deep down she didn’t want a pregnancy any more than he did. It was just…just what? She wanted him to be happy he’d made her pregnant when she wasn’t happy about the idea herself?
Wasn’t that irrational? Could she blame it on hormones? She winced. She could, but she wouldn’t believe it. But if she wasn’t pregnant, this was all immaterial, all stress and angst for nothing.
She sighed. As much as she didn’t want to walk into the store and purchase a pregnancy test, he was right. They had to know. Had to figure out what they were going to do if she had gotten pregnant that morning.
There went the rest of her life, all riding on the results of a plastic stick.
She reached for the door handle, but Dirk’s hand shot out, stopping her.
“No, that’s not fair to you. I’ll go and buy the test.” He squeezed her hand, held on another few seconds, as if for his own reassurance. “I’m sorry I snapped at you, Abby. This isn’t easy. Just…just wait here.”
With that, he leapt out of the truck and flew into the store as if he’d been snacking on Santa’s reindeers’ magic corn.
Dirk supposed it was only appropriate that he be surrounded by Christmas hell while he waited on Abby’s sofa to find out if he’d made her pregnant.
That he should be reminded of how he’d taken off her red dress, lain on the floor in front of her fireplace the last time he’d been in her house.
Had that really only been two nights ago?
Everything had seemed so right. But it hadn’t been. Later, when not driven by surging testosterone, he’d been glad his phone had interrupted them. Too bad his phone hadn’t rung the morning they’d had sex.
Abby might be pregnant.
His brain kept telling him the test would be negative. But his heart, his heart had seen the very realistic possibility on her face.
He suspected Abby didn’t need the test to know the results, whether she’d admit as much to herself or not.
Hearing the bathroom door, he glanced up, waiting for her to reappear, to tell him the bad news.
Carrying the slender plastic test, she sat on the sofa beside him and placed the test on the coffee table.
“Well?” he asked, unable to wait another minute without knowing and unable to decipher her expression.
Her cheeks pink, she shrugged. “It’s not been long enough. I came straight out here after doing the test. The instructions said to wait three minutes.”
Three minutes. A hundred and eighty seconds. The difference between knowing and not knowing what the rest of his life entailed.
Knowing he was being a selfish bastard, he took a deep breath and clasped her hand. “Abs, I want you to know that regardless of what this test shows, I’ll be here for you.”
He didn’t know how or what exactly he meant by his comment, but if he’d made her pregnant, he wouldn’t abandon Abby. He might be a heartless bastard, but he’d do the right thing. Whatever the right thing was.
“I know you will.” She sounded on the verge of tears. Her hand trembled and he clasped her fingers more tightly.
“If it’s positive, I’ll do whatever you want.” What would she want? Marriage? An abortion? Child support? To castrate him for being so stupid as to get her pregnant?
“Okay, Dirk. That’s fine.”
Her voice was so flat his gaze lifted to hers. Unshed tears shone there and her lower lip quivered. Her fingers shook. Her whole body shook. He squeezed her hand, hoping to offer reassurance and wishing like hell someone would reassure him.
“Aw, honey, don’t cry.” He’d done this to her. It was his fault they were sitting here, wondering if they’d created a life. If only he’d not instantly been attracted to Abby. If only he’d not let the death of that little girl and her mother get to him. If only he hadn’t found such comfort in Abby’s arms. Sweet solace like none he’d known since Sandra and Shelby’s deaths.
He could “if only” all day to no avail. If onlys wouldn’t help them. Not at this point.
He wiped his finger along Abby’s cheek, catching a runaway teardrop. “It’ll be okay. One way or the other, it will be all right,” he promised, although he wasn’t sure he believed his words.
If Abby was pregnant, nothing would be all right.
She stared at him, opened her mouth, but no words left her tremulous lips.
“I’m sorry, Abs. So sorry.” He leaned over and kissed her, gently, hoping to make the trembling stop, reminding himself that this was what had caused what they currently faced. Still, he wasn’t able to stop.
Her mouth was warm and pliant, accepting his kiss, accepting him despite the fact he didn’t deserve her.
“Oh, Abs, what have I done to you?” he whispered against her lips, threading his fingers into the soft waves of her hair.
“You didn’t do anything to me, Dirk,” she assured him, her voice catching slightly. “Nothing I didn’t want.”
“You didn’t want this,” he scoffed, gesturing toward the pregnancy kit.
“No, I didn’t.” She pulled back from him. Her eyes glistened with tears, but he’d never seen her look more sure of herself. “Not like this. Never like this. But if that test is positive, I will be okay.”
“You’ll keep the baby?”
She nodded.
“I’m sorry.”
She stared him in the eyes, overflowing tears silently streaming down her cheeks. “For?”
“This. Taking advantage of you that morning.”
“You didn’t take advantage of me any more than I took advantage of you. We needed each other.”
“What we did shouldn’t have happened,” he reminded her, so why was he holding her, leaning in to press another kiss to a teardrop on her cheek?
“No,” she agreed, “but it did happen and we can’t change the past.”
“Or the consequences of that past.” If only he could. Damn, there he went with another if only.
“True.” She sighed, closing her eyes, opening them with strong resolve replacing her tears. “A baby wouldn’t be the end of the world. Regardless of what the test shows, I will make the best of what life gives me.”
She would, too. Dirk could see the determination and willpower reflected in her eyes. Knew enough about her to know Abby always made the best of any situation life presented. She was a glass half-full kind of woman.
Dirk had moved beyond glass half-empty years ago. His glass had been drained dry the moment his wife and daughter had taken their last breaths. After that, he’d tossed the cup against the wall, shattering the remains to bits.
“That’s big of you, considering you’re talking about the rest of your life.” He couldn’t keep the pain out of his voice. “A child is a big responsibility.”
An odd expression on her face, Abby searched his eyes. “The biggest, really.” She gripped his hand tightly in hers, a glimmer of uncertainty surfacing. “Promise me you’ll try to be happy, too. Maybe it’s crazy, but
I need to hear you say that before we know, Dirk. Please.”
Happy? She had no idea what she was asking of him. How could he be happy if he’d made her pregnant? He’d given all his love to his wife and a beautiful little girl with straw-colored hair and big blue eyes, and that love had been ripped from his soul. He couldn’t do that again.
When he didn’t answer, Abby sighed, dropped her forehead against his. “Maybe it’ll be negative and all of this will have been for nothing. It’s probably been three minutes.”
Dirk was sure it had, but he didn’t move away from where he stared into Abby’s eyes. He wasn’t a fool. He could see that she did need to hear him say he’d try to be happy. He didn’t understand why, couldn’t begin to fathom why, but in her eyes he saw beyond the happy front she put on to the world and saw real need. Need unlike any he’d ever experienced. Need that made him feel emotionally impotent and protective at the same time. Abby’s need gutted him.
The thought of disappointing her filled him with mixed emotions. She was the kind of woman a man felt inclined to protect, a sweet, wonderful, generous woman who gave a hundred and ten percent of herself to those in her life.
She’d welcomed him into her bed when he’d needed her.
Sex with her had been phenomenal and had provided his first moments of peace in years. Yet he’d known Abby didn’t give her body lightly, that if they continued, she might fall for him and want things he didn’t.
But whether or not he wanted those things, if Abby was pregnant, he’d be forced to accept what fate dealt him.
She wanted him to say he’d try to be happy if the test was positive, if she was pregnant with his baby.
He couldn’t do it.
“You read the test,” she urged, her eyes searching his.
Without a word, he picked up the test, registered the unmistakable plus sign and felt his stomach drop down the chimney lickety-split. “You’re pregnant.”
“I am?” Abby grabbed the test from his hand, studied the results. “I’m pregnant.”
He’d said that.
“I’m pregnant, Dirk.” Dropping the test back onto the coffee table as if the plastic had scalded her hand, she turned to him, wide-eyed and stunned, grabbed his hands and squeezed. “We’re going to have a baby.”
