The Cowboy SEAL's Jingle Bell Baby

by Laura Marie Altom

  “Since this is my son we’re talking about, he’ll be a quarterback like his old man.”

  Now she was rolling her eyes. “You didn’t let me get to the heart of the matter. Let’s say I did believe in love and marriage. With you gone the vast majority of the time, what good does a piece of paper do me when I need a hand to hold when Johnny’s got the ball, there’s five seconds left on the clock and his team is down by two points? If he makes the game-winning touchdown, who do we party with? If he doesn’t and his whole team blames him for the loss, who do I console him with? Oh, sure, you’re more than willing to step up and do the supposed right thing by marrying me—giving our baby your name and a roof over his head—but have you ever stopped to think about what that even means? I’ve been brutally honest with you about the fact that I’m not sure I have what it takes to be a parent—let alone a single parent. If I married you, wouldn’t I essentially be signing up for just that?”

  * * *

  ROWDY DIDN’T HAVE an answer for her, so he mumbled an awkward goodbye, kissed her cheek, then fed her some BS line about needing to meet his brother to get his truck from her office lot.

  The second he’d slipped from the house without being caught by Gigi or Pearl, he did call his brother for a ride, but he started walking in the hopes of clearing his mind.

  He didn’t want to admit it, but Tiffany’s speech made a lot of sense. With him constantly deployed, she would be a single parent. But hell, he knew lots of guys who were married and had kids and they seemed happy enough. Grady and Jessie. Wiley and Macy. But Grady had chosen to leave the navy and Wiley had been forced out by an injury.

  Rowdy didn’t just love his job as a SEAL but needed it.

  The rush.

  It was the closest thing to being Rambo that America had to offer. The United States government gifted him the latest weaponry and cutting-edge gadgets. He worked with a band of brothers who would literally give their lives for him in a crisis. Hazard pay was pretty damned sweet, too. What else did Tiffany think made him able to afford the cozy house he planned to buy?

  The thought of going without all of the above—quitting cold turkey—made him nauseous. What would he do with himself all day? How would he handle what most people considered a normal life when to him, normal meant disarming a terrorist nuke with ten seconds to spare?

  He’d stormed his way past the neighborhood and now walked alongside the highway leading out of town. Tall weeds made the hike a struggle, but he was used to a lot worse.

  A truck towing a horse trailer whizzed by. The resulting breeze was damned cold, so he jammed his frozen fingers in his jeans pockets.

  His most pressing hardship wasn’t the rapidly falling temperature but the turmoil in his mind. In figuring out how to keep his son while still hanging on to the career he held dear. And what happened with Tiffany? Beyond their chemistry between the sheets, what would make a marriage between them work? And he was talking a real marriage—like what his folks shared. Carl and Justine. But in order to get that kind of lasting relationship, what was he prepared to give? What, beyond his paycheck, was he willing to leave on their familial table?

  A couple miles farther, he winced as Carl approached and the old farm truck’s lights blinded him. “Little brother, you are one crazy SOB.”

  “Tell me about it.” Rowdy held his hands in front of blasting heater vents.

  “What’d your gal do this time that got you all wound up?”

  How did he answer without making himself look like an ass? Hell, maybe he was an ass? “We were right in the middle of what’s starting to be our usual debate when she tells me she’s never wanted to be a single mother. No shit, right? I wouldn’t especially want to be a single father. But if that’s the case, then why shouldn’t I be on board for giving our baby to this Jeb and Susie couple who seem a helluva lot better equipped to handle raising a child than either me or Tiffany.”

  Carl gunned the vehicle toward town. “I don’t get this. When I picked you up from the airport, you were all about keeping your son. Now you’re filled with doubts?”

  “I can’t help it. Tiffany does raise valid points. Plus, how do I stay in the navy while having a kid?”

  “Did you honestly just ask such an asinine question? I’m not saying it would be easy, but thousands of active military and veterans manage just fine. So if that’s your biggest parenting hurdle? I’m not buying it. Did you ever think it’s time to man up and claim your son?”

  “Well, yeah. That’s why I’m here. But what if Tiffany’s right? And our son would be better off being raised by another couple? They’ve got time and money.”

  “If you ask me, you’re both being selfish.”

  “Selfish? What the hell? If anything, we’re being selfless.”

  “Whatever. I’m sick of hearing about it. If you were man enough to get Tiffany pregnant, then you should be man enough to put your son’s needs ahead of your own.”

  They’d almost reached Tiffany’s office.

  Despite Thanksgiving being two weeks away, downtown merchants had already swapped Halloween decorations for Christmas. The rush toward the holidays made Rowdy all the more incensed. Why the hell was everything in his life set on fast-forward?

  What was wrong with him that he equated the birth of his newborn son with a sort of death? If he wanted to be a dad, his days as a SEAL seemed destined to die. As for the fact that Rowdy struggled to decide which life path he most wanted, did that make Carl right? Was he selfish?

  He and his brother had always had their minor squabbles, but this felt different.

  Carl pulled his truck behind Rowdy’s.

  Without a word, Rowdy climbed out and slammed his door.

  Carl shouted out the now-open passenger-side window, “Call Mom if you’re going to be late. She worries!”

  Having delivered his cargo and message, Carl gunned from the lot, leaving Rowdy eating his exhaust.

  He should’ve at the very least flipped Carl a bird, but honestly? He was too drained to care. Count on his big brother to twist the guilt knife a little deeper as to his mother’s worry.

  One more nail in the coffin of his career?

  He climbed into his vehicle and turned the engine. The starter clicked a few times before catching. Great. On top of everything else, he now had more truck problems?

  Since his ride seemed to be running fine, Rowdy aimed for the ranch but changed his mind in favor of checking on Tiffany again.

  After a quick call to his mother, he ended up at Pearl’s.

  Gigi opened the door. “Get in here, handsome. We wondered where you’d run off to.”

  “I had to get my truck.” He hitched his thumb toward the street where he’d parked.

  “Actually...” She grabbed his forearm, tugging him inside. The air smelled rich. Chicken and dumplings? His stomach growled. “I’m glad for this moment alone.”

  His formerly excited stomach fell. What was she up to?

  “I’ve had to keep this under wraps, because Tiffany gets all bent out of shape when I use the color printer for nonessentials, but I think nothing could be more important than uniting the both of you with your child.”

  Beyond uncomfortable with the conversation, Rowdy cleared his throat. “Thanks. Can we talk later? Right now I’ve gotta check on Tiff.”

  “Leave her bedroom door open!” Pearl shouted from the kitchen. “No funny business until after the wedding!”

  “Yes, ma’am.” To hasten his exit, Rowdy took the stairs two at a time.

  He entered Tiffany’s domain to find her brushing Mr. Bojangles while softly humming.

  He cleared his throat. “Hey.”

  “You’re back.”

  He shrugged. “My brother, Carl, said a few things I wanted to run past you.”

  “Shoot.” Her si
lly little dog looked ready to purr from pleasure. She set down his brush to grab a pint-size sweater from a basket on her nightstand, then fit it over the dog’s head.

  Moments earlier he’d known just what to say, but now he couldn’t find the right words. Carl’s accusation cut Rowdy deep. He couldn’t be that direct with a pregnant woman who was already under too much stress.

  “Well?” She’d finished dressing the dog and now held him to her cheek for a cuddle.

  “You know how you keep telling me part of the reason you want to give our baby up for adoption is that you won’t make a good mom?”

  She bowed her head. “It’s the truth.”

  “I call BS. You don’t think what you do for your pet is mothering?”

  “It’s hardly the same and you know it.” She set the pooch alongside her on the bed. “If I need to run an errand, I can take him with me or leave him with my mom or...”

  “Exactly. You could also do the same with our son.” He sat on the chaise, facing her. “Look, you’ve actually made surprisingly valid points with this whole adoption thing. So many that I’m seriously thinking about agreeing with your position. But then I get this gnawing ache...” He patted his chest. “I can’t even conceive of my son—our son—being in this world without us. And then Carl said something...” Rowdy hadn’t planned to repeat his brother’s hurtful sentiments, but maybe she needed to hear them? Maybe she needed the same verbal punch? “He accused us of being selfish.”

  “What?” She sucked in her next breath fast enough to cough.

  Mr. Bojangles barked.

  “Are you kidding?” Her eyes shined with tears.

  “Afraid not.”

  “The whole reason adoption is even on the table is because I realize maybe I’m not the best woman for the job. Isn’t that being selfless?”

  “Exactly.” Rowdy finally exhaled. “That’s what I said. I was pissed. Where does he come off getting in our business like that?” Too antsy to sit, he made the short trek to her dresser for a cookie, then took the tray to her. “Eat. You need to keep up your strength.”

  “Yes, sir.” She took a cookie and muffin. “But as soon as this baby pops out, carbs are out of my picture.”

  “Whatever. But here’s another thing. You know I’m considering adoption as a viable option?”

  She nodded.

  “I want you to do the same in regard to keeping our son.”

  “Rowdy, we—”

  “Trust me, I am one hundred percent on board with every shred of your rationale. No one’s life stands to be changed more than mine by adding a wife and baby. But what if that change was positive? For both of us. We’ve given the whole adoption thing a good look, but it’s only been a couple weeks since I’ve been back in your picture. What would it hurt for you to give my way a chance? Especially since for now, it would only be in your head.”

  * * *

  A WEEK LATER, Tiffany still couldn’t stop thinking about Rowdy’s haunted expression.

  She sat across from him in her obstetrician’s crowded waiting room. He made faces at a six-month-old in a carrier at his feet.

  The little girl giggled every time he raised his eyebrows and stuck out his tongue.

  That pang in his chest he’d talked about? She felt it now.

  Would he be this playful with their son?

  Her imagination went straight to a cozy shared breakfast with her making pancakes and him feeding the baby oatmeal. He’d make adorable vrooming truck noises for their son and little Johnny would giggle and kick in his high chair, squealing with delight. She’d deliver Rowdy’s pancakes, and he’d wrap his arm around her waist, reeling her in for a thank-you kiss.

  She closed her eyes and knew much too well the feel of his lips crushing hers in every variation. Dizzying pressure to a butterfly-soft whisper. His kisses made her lose her mind, and she’d all too willingly signed up for the trip. His lightest touch—

  “Miss Lawson? The doctor’s ready for you.”

  Jolted from her daydream, Tiffany touched her heated cheeks, then the baby.

  “Want me to go with?” Rowdy asked.

  “No.” Yes! How adorable would it be watching him see their son and hear his heartbeat for the first time?

  “What if I want to?”

  “Suit yourself.”

  He waved goodbye to his adorable friend.

  She waved back.

  A knot lurked at the back of Tiffany’s throat.

  If they were to marry and set up a home and Rowdy left to go off to war, how hard would it be watching their son wave goodbye? She blinked back tears.

  “You okay?” Rowdy asked. He’d placed his big hand in the small of her back. The simple gesture made her huge pregnant body feel small and protected.

  “I’m good,” she said, even though she clearly needed time away from the stupid-handsome man to clear her head and return her last shred of sanity.

  It didn’t escape her notice when he politely turned away during her weigh-in. He also knelt to help her slip off the ugly loafers she’d been reduced to wearing since they were the only shoes in her closet that fit.

  In the exam room, after the nurse took her blood pressure and delivered the reading, he asked, “Is that normal?”

  “Yep. Our momma is doing great.” She handed Tiffany a floral hospital-style gown and heated blanket. “You know the drill. It shouldn’t be too long until the doctor’s in.”

  “Great. Thanks.”

  Tiffany glanced at the gown, then to Rowdy. “Mind stepping out?”

  “It’s not like I haven’t seen it before,” he said with a grin. “Just kidding. But in case you need help, I’ll be right outside.”

  “Thanks.” She changed as quickly as she could, given her condition. Her hot-pink socks that had seemed like a good match for the Baby On Board sweater, which had been the only clean one that still fit, now looked silly with her pale green gown.

  She was attempting to heft herself back onto the exam table when Rowdy knocked, then poked his head back in the room. “All clear?”

  “Sort of.” She hugged the still-warm blanket, hating herself for wishing it were him. “Don’t look at my butt.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it—though, for the record, it’s an awfully cute butt.”

  “Rowdy!” she scolded in a loud whisper. “You can’t say things like that.”

  “Why not?”

  She didn’t have an answer.

  Luckily, the doctor knocked, then entered. “The nurse said your blood pressure is good. How are those poor feet?”

  “Better. So can I go back to work?”

  “Sure. But try keeping it to only a few hours a day. You’re a Realtor, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “We have a new physician joining our clinic. She’s temporarily staying with family, but would you be able to show her something on Thursday?”

  “I’d love to. Thank you. I’ll get you a card when we’re done so you can give your friend my contact information.”

  “Perfect.” To Rowdy, the doctor said, “I haven’t seen you around here before.”

  “I’m the baby’s father.”

  “This is an interesting development.” She helped Tiffany lie back on the exam table. “It’s always more fun for Mommy when the daddy’s around. Tiffany, I have to ask, have you changed your mind about the adoption?”

  “I’m not sure,” Tiffany admitted.

  The doctor strategically placed blankets so as to reveal only the baby bump.

  The nurse stepped in and quickly shut the door.

  Usually, the exam room felt plenty big. The pale lilac walls were soothing, as were the dim lights and collection of four-leaf-clover photographs artfully grouped on the far wall.

  Row
dy’s presence overwhelmed her not only physically but emotionally. For some unfathomable reason, what she could describe only as giddiness rose from deep within her soul when the doctor rubbed ultrasound gel on her tummy, then waved the magic wand for Rowdy to get his first glimpse and listen of their son.

  How would he react? Would he be excited? Nervous? A little scared?

  “There he is...” the doctor said. The gallop of her baby’s little heart never failed to give Tiffany a thrill. Knowing she had to give him away, she’d purposely tried to disconnect, but with each visit, that task grew harder. “Well, Rowdy? What do you think?”

  Thanks, Doc, for asking what my heart needs to know...

  Chapter Ten

  Rowdy tried not to crowd Tiffany’s personal space, but when the doctor waved the ultrasound wand across her tummy and he not only saw his son but heard his heartbeat, Rowdy was a goner.

  Tears stinging his eyes, he leaned closer.

  The doctor had asked him a direct question, but he’d be damned if he could remember what she’d said.

  “Speechless is always a fun response,” she said with a laugh.

  “I’m sorry, what?” Rowdy asked. “I’m kind of...” He wasn’t sure what he was feeling. Mostly overwhelming happiness and then sadness for the uncertainty still in the air.

  He looked to Tiffany. Her blue eyes shone with unshed tears and she’d drawn her lower lip into her mouth for a sexy nibble. God, she was a beauty.

  “I’m not entirely sure if I’m seeing our kid’s elbow or a hockey stick, but regardless, Tiff, you made a good-looking baby.” He skimmed his hand atop the crown of her head. “Seriously, he’s...” He could hardly speak past the well of emotions threatening to overflow. “He’s great.”

  “Thanks.” Tiffany beamed.

  The nurse handed them each a tissue when neither did a good job of holding back silent tears.

  “You two stop, or you’re going to get me going,” the doctor said. “Your baby’s heart rate is strong and right where we need it to be. Everything else looks good. Rowdy, if I could get you to step out of the room, I need to take my exam down below.”