The SEAL's Baby

by Laura Marie Altom

  “Okay, well, I’ll be happy to help you finish if you’d just help me for a sec.”

  Sighing, she left her room. One hand fisted on her hip, the other holding the baby monitor, her hair piled into a glorious mess of curls atop her head and her full lips pressed into a frown, she for sure didn’t have a clue what was coming. “Okay, I’m here. Where’s the fire?”

  “Outside. But first, you’re going to need to put this on.” He took a red bandana from his back pocket, waving it like a flag.

  “Put it where? And why?”

  “Like a blindfold. Here, I’ll put it on for you.” She wasn’t making this easy. In fact, since he’d told her he didn’t want her leaving, nothing between them had felt easy or right. He hated her running off to Seattle with the gaping rift between them, but as soon as she saw her surprise, any awkwardness would be behind them. He was sure of it.

  “Heath...” Her voice warned of a pending explosion. “You and your mom didn’t plan something nutty like a surprise party, did you? Because—”

  “Relax. Mom wanted to, but I shut her down. This surprise is a simple gift from me to you.”

  Libby’s heart galloped. “I don’t know about this....”

  “Trust me. Take my hand and just trust me that this will make you deliriously happy—at least I hope so.”

  Mind racing with the forbidden, slightly kinky thrill produced by the blindfold, Libby’s mouth went dry while other parts of her grew damp.

  Alone in her room, with Heather fast asleep in the antique oak cradle that had once been Heath’s, she’d focused on packing to keep her mind from straying to how much she’d miss Gretta and Morris. Fred and Sam. Even Hal and his sons. But the one person she’d miss the most was Heath. His sexy smile and haunting pale green eyes. His laugh and especially his kisses.

  She’d never seen him downright playful like this. Could he be on the verge of proposing? No. No way. But what if he was? What would she say? Would she and Heather go with him to his base right away, or wait until they were married? She put a stop to the thoughts rambling in her head, driving her mad. Most days, he seemed more enthralled with her baby than her.

  “Just a little farther,” he coaxed, when the screen door creaked behind them. “Watch out for the uneven brick....”

  Having temporarily lost her sense of sight, his voice alone both carried and thrilled her. She tried not to get too excited by the hope in her heart and what she thought his gift might be.

  “Ready?” He held her safe by bracing his hands on her shoulders.

  She nodded. “I should take off my blindfold?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Excitement turned her knees to mush. Hands trembling, she inched the bandana back, wanting to prolong the delicious anticipation and thrill soon to follow.

  “Aw, come on,” he teased, taking the baby monitor. “You’re killing me. You’ve gotta go faster than that.”

  She tugged it the rest of the way off, then brushed flyaway curls from her eyes before thrill turned to confusion.

  Alongside his old truck, parked where her Bug used to be hulked a massive, candy apple–red SUV.

  “Well?” Heath moved to the car, giving the rear side panel a Vanna White flourish. “Isn’t she a beauty?”

  “I don’t understand....” Was her ring inside?

  “It’s yours. Well—like not officially, until you sign over the title for your Bug, but I got you a sweet trade-in deal, then paid cash for the rest, so you’re all set. Plus, since you’re artsy, I figured you’d like the bright color, right?”

  “Wait, what?” So the surprise she’d stupidly, naively, insanely thought would be a proposal was this? “Without even asking, you sold my car? The first car I could afford with my very own money.”

  “Well, yeah.” He opened the rear cargo door with additional flair. “Look at all this space. Not only will Heather’s gear fit, but your pottery wheel and kiln. Plus, this has the highest safety rating in its class—airbags everywhere—but not the kind that could suffocate the baby. I checked.”

  With him beaming as if he’d just presented her with the crown jewels, Libby couldn’t very well yell at him. But he sold my car!

  Deep down, and infinitely more upsetting, her disappointment had nothing to do with her car. His grand surprise hadn’t been an engagement ring. His gesture was generous, kind and thoughtful. By far the nicest thing anyone had ever in her wildest dreams done for her. But it wasn’t a declaration of love.

  “What’s wrong? If the color’s not right, the dealer said we can have another model down from Portland in a day.”

  Tears started and wouldn’t stop. Turning away from him, she dashed for the back porch.

  “Babe?” Jogging after her, he asked, “Talk to me. I expected you to be thrilled.”

  She flung herself onto the wicker love seat where Gretta sat in the mornings to do the newspaper’s crossword.

  “What’s wrong?” He perched alongside her, tugging her into his arms, against his chest, overwhelming her with the special masculine scent that was uniquely his. A scent she was likely never going to enjoy again. But what had she expected? She’d set herself up for this catastrophe by always looking at her glass not just half-full, but bubbling over.

  “Say something—anything. I’m dying here.”

  “G-good,” she sniffled, “because I am, too. Thank you, but I can’t accept your gift, Heath. It’s too much.” It was the kind of thing a guy presented to his wife. The mother of his child. Not a random stranger he’d plucked from the road.

  “You’re being ridiculous. Of course you’re taking the car. It’s a safety issue. I’m already going to miss you and the baby like crazy. But I’ll seriously never be able to do my job if I’m constantly worrying about you and Heather rolling around in that sardine can on wheels.”

  “Thanks for that,” she said with a half laugh, “but I’m still not taking it. You’ll have to get my old car back.”

  “Is this a pride thing? Like when you first got to town and never wanted my help? If so, you need to get over it. Put Heather first. Just like you probably should’ve called your parents for help a long time ago. Pride can be a bitch. You’re damn lucky you ended up with me and my mom instead of some psycho serial killer.”

  “Oh—if you want to take this conversation to the gutter, hon, let’s go.” Standing, because she couldn’t bear a moment’s more of her bare thigh touching his, she placed her hands on her hips. “You wanna know why I’m really so upset? It has nothing to do with the car. I’ll concede to you that as a newborn’s parent, it’s probably time to give up my old ride. But what’re you giving up, Heath? If you’re so concerned about not only missing me, but worrying about my safety and Heather’s, then why not take us with you? The real reason I don’t want that shiny new car? It’s because I’d set my every hope and dream on you presenting me with an engagement ring. It could’ve been a bread tie for all I cared, I just want to be with you. I want to raise Heather with you. Which is stupid, right? Considering we’ve only been on one official date, and even that wasn’t so much a formal affair, but more of an excuse to get out the house.”

  There. She’d said it. Admitted just how much she’d come to care for him. And what did he do? Absolutely nothing other than lean forward, covering his face with his hands.

  Classic Heath. Totally avoiding the issue.

  His silence was crushing.

  The ache in her chest was unbearable.

  What had she done? She never should’ve set her cards out on the table, but instead, kept them close, where no one—especially him—would ever see.

  Finally, he stood, rammed his hands in his cargo pants pockets. “Your car was already sold to a collector, so there’s no getting it back. Mom’s a notary, so when she gets done tonight, you’ll need to sign off on the old title, which I found in your glove box—not a safe place for it, by the way—and the new one. The keys are in the ignition. There’s also what I hope is enough cash for gas money an
d food and tags once you get to Seattle. I already paid the tax. Sorry I went behind your back, but it is for your own good—and the baby’s. Despite what you think, I care about you both—deeply. But marriage?” He drove the rejection knife deeper with a short laugh and shake of his head. “That’s something I just can’t do.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Rather than face Libby in the morning, Heath grabbed Sam and spent the night at his cabin.

  He woke to thick fog.

  It reminded him of the day he’d encountered Libby on the highway, and of the myriad changes that had occurred in him ever since.

  Memories of their brief time together accosted him, making the pain of letting her go all the more acute. He recalled chopping wood, glancing up to see her standing on his front porch, curls a tousled mess with his favorite blanket wrapped around her. It had smelled of her floral-fruity sweetness for days. There was her finding Sam, and then him acting like an ass for no better reason than she’d altered his status quo. He saw her sitting at her pottery wheel, looking sexy covered in slick clay. Laughing around the dinner table with his mom and uncle and Mason and Hattie. Spoiling his dog. That wild night in the pool he’d tried a hundred times to pretend hadn’t mattered as much as it did. Her yelling at him to get back to work, to life, to never forget Patricia but to also never forget to live.

  Memories hit faster and harder, culminating in those precious few moments after Heather’s birth. How lucky and blessed had he been to bear witness to such an intimate moment. Inviting him in had been such a gift. Yet now, he was essentially throwing her away—Heather, too.

  Why? What was he so afraid of?

  Sitting on the wooden porch steps, listening to Sam’s bark echo through woods, Heath realized he didn’t have a clue what he was afraid of, just that he was. He wished he could offer Libby marriage. With everything in him, he wholly believed she deserved her happily ever after. But was he really the guy who could deliver?

  Not even close.

  *

  “IF YOU’LL STAY a few minutes longer,” Gretta urged Libby at 6:00 a.m., “I’m sure Heath will be here for a proper goodbye.”

  “No, he won’t.” Libby had cried so much after he’d left the previous night that she had no tears left. It didn’t matter if he showed up, because at this point, they had nothing to say.

  “But I don’t understand....” Gretta looked to the car, then back to Libby, no doubt noticing her tearstained cheeks and bloodshot eyes. “Are you sure you’re even all right to drive?”

  “I’m good.” She crushed Gretta in a hug. “How do I begin to thank you? You literally saved my life.”

  “Since you saved my son’s, consider us even. Although, this sure isn’t ending the way I envisioned. When he told me about this car, I assumed he bought it with the express intention of you and Heather driving east to join him. It’d make a perfect family car. Plenty of room for even more gorgeous babies.”

  True. Which made how they’d left things all the more depressing.

  The SUV was over-the-top sumptuous with heated leather seats, a sunroof, built-in DVD players in the seat backs and OnStar complete with a one-year service contract. Who did that? How could Heath claim to feel nothing for her, yet pay cash to buy her a vehicle that must’ve cost more than she’d made the whole previous year?

  Heath had already installed Heather’s safety seat, and Libby had to admit, even the new car smell made her feel good about slipping the baby inside.

  “I guess now that Heather’s settled, I’m good to go.” True to Heath’s word, all of her pottery equipment fit neatly inside, meaning she hadn’t even needed to take Gretta up on her offer for storage. Another sobering thought, considering she’d looked forward to at least having an excuse to visit Heath’s mom and uncle again.

  Morris jogged over from the diner. “Good! Glad to see I’m not too late.” He handed her a bulging white paper take-out bag. “Here’s a little something for your trip. A couple of those turkey sandwiches you like, cookies, chips and a few bottles of water. Hopefully, that’ll tide you over.”

  “You’re such a sweetheart.” Throat tight, she hugged him, as well. “Thanks so much—for everything.”

  “It’s been my pleasure. Come back anytime.”

  Unable to speak, she nodded, ambushed them both with more hugs, then climbed behind the wheel of her new car, apprehensive of what the next chapter in her life would bring.

  *

  “IF YOU WEREN’T taller than me, I’d turn you over my knee.”

  “Mom, please give it a rest.” Heath had checked his duffel and been given his boarding pass. Now all that remained was saying goodbye with a promise to at least try to be home for Thanksgiving. “I know you spun this fantasy of Libby and me ending up together, but it wasn’t meant to be.”

  After a sarcastic snort, she crossed her arms. “Not meant to be, or you’re just too scared to love again?”

  Her words cut to his core. Of course, she was right, but he’d be damned if he’d admit it.

  “Please, Mom, leave it alone. I gave Libby a pretty awesome parting gift, so—”

  “Wait—” she laughed “—that car was your attempt to bribe her into forgiving you for not wanting to take things further?”

  “Do we have to do this now?”

  “Not at all.” On her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek. “You’d just better make darned sure you come home safe, so when we have more time together, I can knock some sense into you.”

  “Yes, ma’am. And thanks again for watching Sam. I appreciate it.”

  “Since that dog is the only grandson I’m likely to have, did I really have a choice?”

  “Ha-ha.” He hugged her for all he was worth, kissed the crown of her head then launched his official fresh start, praying it was better than the possibility of a future with Libby and Heather that he’d just left behind.

  *

  “MISS LIBERTINA! YOU’RE HOME—with a baby.” Olga, the housekeeper who had been with Libby’s family since Libby had been a little girl, made the sign of the cross on her chest. “I’ll go get your mother.”

  Just like that, Libby was left on her own in the white marble-floored entry hall. Though it had been five years since she’d been home, nothing had changed. The double staircase still looked imposing and the compass rose table still held a towering fresh floral arrangement that was no doubt still replaced every four days. The cloying rose scent did nothing to calm her upset tummy.

  She hadn’t been called by her given name of Libertina since she’d left. It was her great-grandmother’s. Libby had always found it a comfort that her namesake had been a bit of a rebel—driving her own car, cavorting without a proper chaperone and even wearing makeup! The thought of these supposed horrors made Libby smile.

  Cradling Heather closer, she drew strength from her baby’s sweet scent. “How much easier would our lives had been if Heath had taken us with him?”

  Easy, yes, but a solution to finally heal the rift in her own family? No. For her daughter’s sake—for her own—she needed this reunion. Whatever the outcome may be.

  “It’s true. You’re really here....” Her mother ran—something Rose Dewitt never did off of a treadmill or personal training session—to embrace her daughter. Her tears crushed Libby, making her all at once guilty and sorry and ashamed for causing her mother pain. “I was so afraid we’d never see you again. And who’s this?” she asked, cupping her flawlessly manicured hand to Heather’s cheek. “She’s beautiful.”

  “This is my daughter—Heather.”

  “And her father?”

  Libby raised her chin. “Is long gone.”

  “I see. May I?” She held out her arms to hold the baby.

  Libby transferred her sleeping child to her mom, whose eyes shone with tears.

  “Thank you,” her mom said.

  “For what?”

  “Trusting in us enough to come home. This is where you belong, and now that you’re here, Daddy and I will find you
the perfect husband—I’m sure he has loads of eligible bachelors at his firm. You might be a single mother now, but trust me, you won’t have to bear that stigma for long.”

  The longer Rose spoke, the more Libby’s stomach roiled. Now wasn’t the time, but before her mom got too carried away, she needed to know Libby had no interest in a marriage of convenience. She’d had nearly nine, long months to adjust to being a single mom, and though she knew it would be tough, she was no longer afraid.

  Yes, her life would’ve been more fun with Heath, but just because he’d rejected her didn’t mean she planned on shutting down.

  Her mother fingered Libby’s long, pale curls. “First thing in the morning, we’ll take you to my stylist to tame your hair. From there, you’ll need clothes and a facial and nails—but listen to me. I’m getting ahead of myself. Of course, first, we should find your father. I know he’ll be just as pleased you’re home as I am.”

  I wouldn’t be so sure.

  *

  “IT’S ABOUT DAMN TIME you got home!” Heath’s longtime friend and fellow SEAL team member, Deacon Murphy, slapped him a high five. “Man, am I glad to see you.”

  “Likewise.” Heath accepted the longneck beer his friend offered.

  The guys had all gotten together Sunday night for beers and a beach bonfire.

  Right after he’d unloaded his gear in the three-bedroom apartment he’d share with the only two other single guys on the team, “Cowboy” Cooper Hansen and “Dodger” Clay Monroe, they’d loaded him into Cooper’s truck to haul Heath to the beach that had once felt like his second home.

  His mind had a tough time wrapping around the fact that he’d started his day on the Pacific and ended up on the Atlantic. Regardless, water was water and the crashing surf and briny tang both comforted and gave him strength.

  It had been on this very beach that he’d proposed to Patricia, yet all he could think about was Libby. How she was doing with her folks and whether or not they were as accepting of her being a single mom as he and his family had been.