by Heidi Rice
Monroe could see his brother had got the message, when his fists released.
Monroe looked away, unable to bear what he thought might be his brother’s pity. He paced across the room, stared out of the glass doors. The tumbling waves in the distance matched his own churning thoughts.
‘Hell.’
Hearing the anguish in his brother’s tone, Monroe turned round. Linc had collapsed onto the sofa. When he lifted his face, Monroe realised it wasn’t pity he saw there but concern and compassion.
‘So when Jessie told you about the pregnancy, you told her it wasn’t yours?’ he said.
Monroe jerked his shoulders, tried not to picture her stricken face. ‘Yeah, because it’s not mine, it can’t be.’
‘Monroe, have you ever had yourself tested since—to make sure, I mean?’
Monroe felt his face flush at the quietly spoken question. ‘No, why would I?’
‘If Jessie says she’s pregnant, she is. And if she says you’re the father, you are. She wouldn’t lie about that.’
Linc seemed so certain, Monroe almost wanted to believe it, but he couldn’t let himself go there again. ‘I’m not the father.’
‘Monroe, you’re going to get tested. I’ll find someone near here that’ll do it. If you won’t do it for yourself, for Jessie, you’ll damn well do it for me.’
‘Why are you making me do this?’
Monroe could see the anger and regret in his brother’s eyes, but his mouth was set in a firm line. ‘You’ll do it, Roe—you owe this family at least that much.’
As Monroe watched his brother walk out the door he felt temper take over.
How had he been suckered into this? The result was just going to humiliate him more. He thought of Jessie again and cursed. How could he have been so foolish as to break his golden rule? Never get involved. Never make a commitment. Now he’d made one, not only to a woman who could turn him inside out, but also to a family he’d never wanted any part of.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
‘DR CARTER WILL see you now, Mr Latimer.’
Monroe threw down the glossy magazine he’d been pretending to read for the last half hour. Clinging onto the anger that had helped keep the pain at bay, he stalked into Carter’s plush private office.
He didn’t want to be here. He’d been forced into this and he was mad about it. He’d had to spend the afternoon yesterday giving sperm samples. If that wasn’t bad enough, now he had to go through the humiliating charade of getting the results. He already knew what Carter was going to say. Had known it for most of his life.
The plump, grey-haired physician looked up from the papers he was busy shuffling and pointed to the comfy leather armchair across from his wide maplewood desk. ‘Good afternoon, Mr Latimer. Take a seat.’
‘No, thanks.’ Monroe didn’t want to sit down. He wanted this over with, so he could take the good doctor’s results and shove them down his dear brother’s throat.
‘Well, Mr Latimer.’ Carter put the papers down and studied Monroe. ‘I’ll cut straight to the chase. There’s no point in beating about the bush, after all.’
Did the man talk in nothing but clichés? Monroe thought bitterly. ‘You do that, Doc.’
‘Simply put, Mr Latimer,’ Carter replied, ‘your sperm count is perfectly normal. In fact, I’d place it in the high end of the range.’
Monroe felt his heart stop. ‘What did you say?’
‘That you’re not infertile—far from it, in fact.’ Carter smiled.
Monroe dropped into the armchair. He felt as if his legs had just been yanked out from under him. ‘But that’s not possible. I was tested, when I was sixteen. The prison doctor said I was infertile.’
‘Well,’ Carter continued, ‘that may possibly have been true at the specific time your sperm count was taken.’
‘How?’ Monroe’s heart was banging away in his chest now as if it were about to explode.
Carter folded his arms on the desk in front of him and happily went into lecture mode. ‘Mr Latimer, there has been a great deal of research into male fertility in the last ten to fifteen years.’ Carter paused for breath, and then gave Monroe a self-satisfied smile. ‘One of the most fascinating discoveries, in my opinion at least, has been how much the male sperm count can fluctuate given certain circumstances. All sorts of factors can affect the count at any one time. If you’d recently had a high fever, say, or were particularly stressed at the time the sample was given, it could wipe out the count completely or lower it substantially. But it would recover remarkably quickly. It’s often the case that—’
‘Hold on a damn minute.’ Monroe’s mind simply wouldn’t engage. ‘How the hell do you know that’s the case with me?’
Carter sighed heavily. ‘Mr Latimer, as I told you, your samples yesterday showed a high volume of active sperm. Whatever the test showed in the past, your sperm now are more than capable of getting a woman pregnant.’
Monroe staggered out of the office in a daze. Carter had droned on for another twenty minutes but he hadn’t heard a word of it. His mind kept reeling back to Jessie and the anguish on her face when he’d last seen her.
There hadn’t been any other guys. If he’d been honest with himself he’d known that all along. He’d had to work harder to get her into bed than any woman he’d ever met. And she hadn’t exactly been the most experienced woman he’d ever slept with. It was one of the things about her he’d found irresistible—that captivating combination of innocence and passion.
Pushing open the double doors of the clinic, he walked onto the sunny street outside. But he didn’t see the snazzy cars flashing past in the high-end neighbourhood, the afternoon shoppers rushing to make their latest purchase. All he could see was Jessie’s shattered eyes, her tear-soaked cheeks.
A young woman with a toddler barged past him. Pushed to one side, Monroe leaned against the outside wall of the clinic. His legs were too weak for him to stand unaided. He scraped the hair back from his brow with a shaky hand.
She hadn’t lied to him. She was having his baby.
Then another thought struck him and his knees gave way beneath him. His back scraped down the hot brickwork, until he was crouched down on his haunches. He stared blindly out at the legs of the people milling past on the sidewalk on a hot, humid Friday afternoon.
Jessie Connor had given him something he thought he’d never be able to have.
He was going to be a father.
As Monroe drove the Harley over the rise and gazed down on Linc and Ali’s house by the sea, the tumultuous combination of euphoria, guilt and despair churning in his gut was making him feel nauseous.
How was he ever going to repair the damage he’d done? Jessie would hate him now; for all he knew she might even have run off to have an abortion. He sure as hell wouldn’t blame her.
He shook his head, cruised the Harley down towards the house. He couldn’t think about that. If she’d got rid of the baby, he would be devastated, but he would deal with it.
What was more important, what he wanted most, he realised with stunning clarity, was to get her back.
How would he ever persuade her that he loved her, that he had fallen head first before they’d even slept together, before they’d ever even conceived their baby? The whole time he’d been trying to keep his distance, his heart had been lost. Maybe that was the real reason he’d reacted the way he had when she’d told him about the pregnancy. Because he was scared to death, not just because he wanted it so desperately to be his baby, but also because he had always felt inadequate where she was concerned.
Well, he was going to have to get over his self-pity and all his self-doubts now. He was going to have to fight for her and he didn’t kid himself it was going to be easy. But then he didn’t deserve it to be easy.
Parking the Harley in the garage, he switched off the engine. First of all, he needed to find out where she was. He had to face Linc and Ali, tell them the truth and then beg them to help him find Jessie. What if they didn�
��t want to help him? Why would they? After what he’d done to Ali’s little sister, they probably hated him now, too.
‘Roe, what happened at Carter’s office? We expected you back over an hour ago.’
Monroe looked up to see his brother standing by the garage door. He pulled off his helmet, stared at Linc, unable to find the words.
Linc saved him the trouble. ‘So Carter told you what the rest of us already knew. Am I right?’ Pushing away from the door, Linc walked towards him. Monroe couldn’t see the expression on his face with the afternoon sun shining behind him, but he didn’t doubt that what he would see was contempt. Attaching the helmet to the bike’s handlebars, he climbed off, ready to face it.
‘The baby’s mine.’
Linc considered the statement for a moment. ‘Is that bad?’
‘What do you mean?’
Linc crossed his arms over his chest and gave Monroe a steady stare. ‘What I’m asking, Monroe, is do you want to be the father?’
‘Yeah.’ This part at least was easy. ‘Yeah. I do.’ Monroe jerked a shoulder, stared down at his hands, his voice thick with a yearning that he’d spent so many years trying to hide. ‘Ever since I was sixteen, I never thought I’d have a family. I convinced myself I didn’t want one. I always kept on the move, never made any attachments. I figured family wasn’t for me. Seeing you with your kids, though, Linc, it made me so envious. Feeling Ali’s baby kick inside her, watching her go into labour.’ He sighed, dragged unsteady fingers through his hair. ‘It hurt, knowing I could never have that.’
Linc took the few steps to his brother and pulled him into his arms. He held him close for only a moment, but that brief manly hug pulled them together through all the years of their childhood and adult lives when they had been forced apart. At last they were brothers.
Linc stood back, gave Monroe’s shoulders one last quick squeeze. ‘So, I guess congratulations are in order.’
Monroe gave a harsh laugh. ‘Yeah, although I don’t deserve any of them. I screwed up big time.’
Linc nodded. ‘I can’t argue with you there, Roe. Question is, what do you intend to do about it?’
‘I want her back, Linc. Not just because of the baby.’ Monroe ground his fists down into the pocket of his jeans. ‘I’m not kidding myself. After the way I treated her, there may not even be a baby any more.’
‘Don’t sell her short again, or I’ll have to get mad at you.’ Linc put a hand on Monroe’s shoulder. ‘You realise you’re going to have to do some serious explaining and probably more than your fair share of grovelling if you’re going to fix this?’
Monroe didn’t like the sound of that ‘if’ but said nothing.
‘It’s up to you now to get Jessie and your baby back, Roe.’
Monroe shrugged Linc’s hand off. ‘Do you think I don’t want that?’ He raked shaking fingers through his hair, despair settling on him like a lead weight. ‘But I don’t even know where to start. I don’t even know where she is.’
‘Ali does.’
Monroe’s head jerked up.
‘Jessie phoned last night to make sure we weren’t worried about her.’
‘Where is she?’
‘I don’t know. Jessie asked Ali not to tell me. I guess she figured I might tell you.’
Monroe’s shoulders slumped. ‘How am I gonna find out, then?’
‘You’ll have to ask Ali.’
‘Are you kidding me? She won’t tell me. It’s a miracle you don’t hate me, but she must after what I did to her sister.’
‘Monroe.’ Linc huffed out a breath. ‘You are one stupid guy sometimes.’ He gave Monroe a wry smile. ‘Ali doesn’t hate you. She wants to see you and Jessie work this out as much as I do.’
‘Really?’ Monroe felt the first stirrings of hope since he’d stumbled out of Dr Carter’s office that afternoon. Maybe there was a small chance he might be able to pull this off.
‘Where is she, Ali?’
‘Monroe, Jessie told me in confidence,’ Ali said softly, cradling her sleeping son in her arms. ‘She didn’t specifically tell me not to tell you, but I think that’s only because she didn’t think you’d care.’
‘Damn it.’ The baby flinched, making Monroe soften his voice. ‘Sorry.’ He touched the baby’s head, and his heart stuttered at the soft, warm feeling before he stuffed his hand back in his pocket. ‘I have to talk to her, Ali. I have to at least try.’
‘I understand that.’ Reaching up, Ali touched his arm. ‘Sit down, Monroe.’
He plopped down on the sofa opposite her, his body rigid with tension.
‘Is it just because of the baby that you want to contact Jessie?’
‘No.’ The denial came so quickly, so forcefully, he knew it was the truth. He paused, though, and stared at the hands clenched in his lap. ‘No, it’s not just because of the baby.’
How could he make Ali understand what he had done, if he didn’t really understand himself?
‘I love her, Ali. I think I knew that even before Carter told me the truth. I was just too scared to admit it. I’ve always known I didn’t deserve her.’
He stood up, walked over to the window and stared out at the pool. The sight reminded him of the first time they’d met.
‘Why do you think you don’t deserve her?’ Ali asked quietly from behind him.
The note of incredulity in her voice made Monroe shake his head as he turned back to her. ‘Because I’m an ex-con. I’ve got no money and not a lot of prospects. The only thing I own is a Harley and the clothes on my back. And even if that meant nothing, even if we could get past all of that, I didn’t think I would ever be able to offer her kids. I knew how much she wanted them. How much she wanted a family. She told me that was her dream.’
Ali sighed, adjusting the baby in her arms. ‘You know what I think?’
He almost smiled, the clipped, precise note of irritation in her voice reminding him of Jessie.
‘I think you’re an idiot.’
‘Thanks.’ He did smile then, realising that he hadn’t just found a brother in the last few months, he’d also found a sister.
Getting up, Ali tucked the baby carefully into its crib before walking back to Monroe. The look she gave him was more annoyed than sisterly, though.
‘Firstly, you were little more than a child when you went to prison. Secondly, we know now that the baby-making thing isn’t going to be a problem.’ The look she gave him was direct enough to make his face heat. ‘As for the no money and no prospects, we both know that’s a load of rubbish, too.’
‘How do you figure that?’ Monroe raised his voice in exasperation. This was not the reaction he had expected.
‘Jessie told me about your artwork.’ He felt the flush deepen on his face as she continued. ‘Jessie knows art, she’s studied it and she’s convinced you could have a career as an artist. So I think if you’re worried about money and prospects, Linc has a friend called Carole Jackson who owns a very successful gallery in New York—you should contact her and let her take a look at the stuff you’ve been working on for the last two months.’
Monroe straightened. ‘I’m not asking favours from one of Linc’s friends.’
‘Oh, don’t get your knickers in a twist.’ Ali waved her hand impatiently. ‘I know how important pride is to you. But it’s misplaced here. Carole’s a tough lady and she has one of the best and most influential independent galleries in New York. She’s not going to agree to exhibit anything unless she thinks it’s outstanding. The question here is, do you have the guts to try? Or are you going to spend the rest of your life hiding behind your insecurities?’
Annoyed and embarrassed at one and the same time, Monroe had to force himself not to pout. ‘We’re getting off the point here. I want to know where Jessie is. I didn’t come here to get a lecture about my insecurities.’
‘Well, tough, you happen to need one.’ Ali’s face lit up, as if she had been struck by divine inspiration. Then her eyes narrowed and she gave Monroe a
look that he could only describe as sneaky. ‘I tell you what, Monroe. These are my terms. You call Carole and get her to have a look at your work. Whatever she says, once she’s seen it I’ll let you know where Jessie is.’
Monroe blinked in astonishment. ‘You’re not serious?’
‘Yes, I am,’ came the sharp, no-nonsense retort. ‘And another thing.’
‘I don’t want to hear this,’ he muttered.
‘Well, that’s a shame, because you’re going to. I think it’s about time you started making something of your life, Monroe. You were forced to cope with some terrible things in your childhood and your adolescence. But I think you’ve spent enough time running away from them, don’t you?’
He didn’t bother to answer the rhetorical question, just fumed in stony silence.
‘You’re thirty-two years old.’ Ali’s voice was firm. ‘And in about seven and a half months’ time you’re going to be a father to boot. When you see Jessie again, you’ll need to offer her a bit more than a grovelling apology and a declaration of undying love.’
‘Who said I was going to grovel?’ His angry words were answered with a disdainful look.
‘You’ll need to show Jessie that you’ve changed. That you’ve got something to offer her and the baby. That you’re running towards something now.’
‘But what if this woman hates my stuff?’ He snarled the words, but even he could hear the insecurity behind them.
‘Do you think your work is any good, Monroe?’
He shrugged. ‘I mostly get what I aim for.’
‘Then that’s all the answer you need, isn’t it?’
Monroe was furious. He’d been cornered, but he could see from the determination in Ali’s face that he wasn’t going to be able to charm or bluff his way out of this one.
‘Hell, okay, I’ll call this Carole Jackson today. But whatever she says you’ll tell me where Jessie is, right?’
