Baby, I'm Home

by Tami Lund

  “You’re going to steal your parents’ housekeeper?”

  He shrugged. “They won’t care. She practically raised me, not them.”

  “This is crazy. You’re crazy.”

  He leaned forward, reached across the table, and covered her hand with his own. “I’m not. I’m serious. You say the word and I’ll start looking for property right now.”

  “Someone has to clean up the kitchen.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at the mess he created. “Hey, I cooked. And I believe the consensus was that it was damn good.”

  “So that means you get out of cleanup duty?”

  “Yep.”

  She looked down at his hand, still wrapped around hers. “This is a lot to take in. You can’t expect me to make a decision right this second.”

  He squeezed her hand and, sensing victory, stood and began clearing the table. “No, of course not. But at least think about it. It’d be a lot fewer hours for you, and we’d be able to raise our child in a small-town environment, which is something you’ve talked about as long as I’ve known you.” Jenna had, perhaps, been on to something all those times she nagged him about planning for the future.

  She followed him into the kitchen and began loading the dishwasher, but he could tell her back was hurting, so he shooed her out of the way and did it himself.

  “The reason I don’t know if I can take twelve full weeks is because I’m not sure my clients can handle me being gone that long.” She scooped the remaining potatoes into a Tupperware container and handed him the cookie sheet so he could wash it. “So the idea of moving away and leaving them high and dry is a bit daunting.”

  He rinsed the cookie sheet and placed it in the rack to dry. “You know damn well you won’t leave them high and dry. If you make this decision, you’ll keep taking care of them and at the same time work your ass off to connect them with new accountants to ensure the transition is a smooth one. It’s what you do, Jenna.”

  Without acknowledging what he said, she wandered into the living room, and he hurried through the rest of the cleanup chores. When he stepped into the room a few minutes later, she stood in front of the sliding glass doors, staring out into the darkness. Her hands were pressed to the small of her back and her lips were curled into a grimace.

  “Come here,” he said, leading her toward the couch and then gently pushing her down, so that she was seated sideways. He sat behind her so he could rub her back. She let him do it, silently acquiescing if not submitting. Which was okay. He didn’t really want her to submit. Her spirit was half the reason he’d fallen in love with her in the first place.

  Her head lolled forward, and he stroked his hands up her spine to her shoulders, working out the knots he felt there. He wrapped one leg around her so he was straddling her, then shifted closer, pressing his hardening cock against her ass. She leaned back and turned her head, resting against his shoulder, her face tilted toward his. While he bent forward to capture her lips with a kiss, he snaked his arms around her body until his hands cupped her breasts. He continued his massage while making love to her mouth, until she grabbed his right hand and slid it down between her thighs.

  He slipped his fingers under the waistband of her leggings and skimmed straight down into her heat, her arousal leading him to her opening. She spread her legs and whimpered against his lips as she held onto his wrist, guiding his movements while he finger-banged her until she rolled her hips against his erection with such a steady rhythm, he was in danger of shooting his load in his pants.

  Breaking the kiss, he whispered, “Hang on, baby. We need to get rid of these clothes.” He flipped her shirt over her head and unclasped her bra while she shimmied out of her pants and undies. Then he stood, wasting no time shedding his T-shirt and shorts and boxers.

  But when she moved to kneel on the couch like she had this morning, he clutched her hip, stopping her. “Come here.” Sitting back against the cushions, he gently pulled her to him, seating her on his lap, facing away from him.

  “Are you sure?” she asked dubiously. “I’m so big.”

  “You’re so perfect,” he replied, tweaking her nipples the way he knew she liked, until she rocked in his lap, his cock sliding through her folds, coating him with her arousal.

  When he knew by her panting that she was close, he lifted her slightly and grabbed his erection, then pulled her down into his lap, impaling her. She cried out and leaned back; he rolled his hips while cupping her breast with one hand and toying with her clit with the other.

  She began bucking with wild stallion vigor, so he wrapped his arm around her, between her breasts and belly, holding her tightly while he increased the pressure against her clit. He forced himself to be still, letting her movements do all the work, and it was so fucking hot his balls began tightening against his body.

  “Come with me, baby,” he said through clenched teeth. “Come all over me.”

  “Oh yes, yes, yes. Chad, you feel so good. Yes, right there. No, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t…” She threw her head back and screamed, her inner muscles milking his own orgasm from him, until he collapsed against the cushions, breathing as heavily as if he’d just finished a 10K.

  Jenna leaned against him, and he felt her racing heart under his arm. He splayed his hand over her chest and sighed. This, right here, was perfect. This was right where he was supposed to be.

  Where they were supposed to be.

  Chapter Six

  “My goodness, you’ve gotten bigger just since last week.”

  Even her own damn mother.

  “Thanks, Mom,” she muttered as they headed inside Buddy’s Pizza, the restaurant they’d agreed on for their weekly Sunday lunch date.

  After the server took their drink orders—a glass of Chardonnay and a water—her mother said, “You look…different somehow. Are you having Braxton Hicks contractions?”

  Not even close. She had no idea how her mother could tell that something had changed, but maybe that’s was what mothers did. No doubt she’d be the same way some day.

  The server returned with their drinks and took their order and retreated again. Time to ’fess up.

  “Chad’s back.”

  Her mother’s eyes widened over the glass as she took a swallow of her wine. “Now? After all this time? Why?”

  Jenna toyed with her silverware. When Jenna finally had admitted she was having a baby, like any mother worth her title, Renee Mackery had jumped to her daughter’s defense and immediately decided she hated the boy who’d knocked her up and then fled the country.

  Jenna really should have tried harder to convince her mother that wasn’t how it happened.

  “Remember how I told you he left because his grandfather was dying?”

  “Conveniently at the time you discovered you were pregnant.”

  Jenna leaned her elbow on the table and pinched the bridge of her nose. “No, that’s not how it happened, Mom. His grandfather was dying first, and in fact, I got pregnant the night before he left. So he didn’t even know.”

  Her mother sat back in her chair, holding her glass with one hand while the other tapped on the table. “Yes, well, that was eight months ago. So he’s been avoiding you all this time.”

  Shaking her head, Jenna said, “No. He didn’t know. I never told him.”

  Her mother leaned forward, holding her wineglass with both hands and resting her elbows on the table. “Excuse me? He’s been hanging out in Scotland for damn near a year and now he’s back and expects to pick up where things left off? Are you serious?”

  “Mom, stop. Listen to me. I. Didn’t. Tell. Him. He had no idea he was going to be a father until he stepped off the plane on Friday evening.”

  She waved her hand. “We’ll get to that in a minute. What in the world was he doing in Scotland for eight months? I thought you said he was only going to be over there for a few weeks. Because if that was the case, and he came home when he was supposed to, then you would have told him when it was appropriat
e and we would have learned a lot earlier what sort of man he really is.”

  Jenna had lain awake last night, Chad’s steady breathing ruffling her hair because he was the sort to cuddle in his sleep and each time she adjusted her position, he shifted so that he was spooning her. And because she couldn’t sleep anyway these days, let alone with another person in the bed, she’d let her mind wander. What if he had come home as soon as he had originally expected? Where would they be now?

  She had no doubt he would have taken care of his kid either way, but would they still be together? Because he’d grown in Scotland. He was the same and yet different, and not in a bad way. If his trip had been shorter, would the same thing have happened?

  They would never know.

  “They all thought his grandfather was going to die pretty much immediately. But he ended up hanging on. He just passed last week. Chad was really close to him, so he stayed until the end.”

  “And did you know this?”

  “Yes. We kept in touch while he was there.”

  “So, you’ve been talking to the man for the past eight months, but you didn’t tell him about the baby?”

  Way to sum it up, Mom. “Um, yeah.”

  “Well, why not?”

  The million-dollar question. “I don’t know. I was afraid, I guess.”

  “That he wouldn’t want anything to do with you or the baby?”

  Maybe. But also…“That he’d come home and miss his grandfather’s final days.”

  Her mother sat back in her chair again. “Oh. Well, that’s honorable, I suppose.”

  Jenna snorted. “Not telling him is honorable? How do you come to that conclusion?”

  Her mother rolled her eyes while the server placed a Margherita pizza and a Greek salad in the middle of the table. “If you’re right that he would have come home, that’s honorable. Of him, I mean.”

  “And I would have felt like crap because of it.”

  “You obviously feel like crap for not telling him too.”

  “True.” She sighed. “How do I make this right, Mom?”

  “All you can do is move forward at this point. So, now that he’s home, how are things?”

  Complicated. But they’d been complicated before he left. All they’d done was add another layer of difficulty with this pregnancy.

  “I don’t know. He’s acting like he wants us to be together, but…I just don’t know.” His talk about opening a bed and breakfast together last night had sent goose bumps chasing up and down her arms. Was he finally ready to settle down? Was he ready to commit to their relationship, to their happily ever after?

  “Do his parents know?” her mother asked, breaking through Jenna’s musings.

  “Nope. They’re still in Scotland. He said he wants to wrap his head around it first before telling them.”

  “That their first grandchild is going to be multiracial.”

  “Maybe.”

  Chad insisted that her mixed heritage was not an issue with his parents. And, if Jenna were honest with herself, other than that first meeting, they’d not acted anything but happy to see her every time since. It was possible the chip on her shoulder was entirely her own skewed perception.

  “But I don’t know. He swears they don’t care.”

  “Well, let’s hope they talk some sense into that boy. What they should be concerned about is the fact that you two aren’t married. And I don’t see a ring on your finger, so obviously it hasn’t come up yet. And how long has he been home?”

  “Two days.”

  “Have you talked about it?”

  “What?”

  “Marriage,” her mother said, a hint of impatience in her tone. “A baby is a lifetime commitment. You two have been together for three years, right? Why the hell aren’t you talking about marriage?”

  Jenna wondered the same damn thing.

  * * *

  When she stepped into her apartment a couple of hours later, the living room, dining room, and kitchen were empty. Had Chad left?

  She lifted her hand and clutched at her chest over her suddenly erratically beating heart. Goddamn it, he did it again. He took off. He—

  No, stop thinking that way, Jenna.

  “Hey,” he said, walking around the corner, from the vicinity of the bedroom. “Come see.” He motioned for her to follow him back the way he came.

  He’d rearranged the room. The bed was now under the window, the dresser against a different wall. Which allowed space for the second dresser that appeared to also be a changing table—and the white bassinet that was now next to the bed. Her gaze flew to his.

  “You did all this? While I was having lunch with my mom?”

  Grinning, he nodded. The wrench in his hand gave truth to his confirmation. She shifted her gaze back to the room.

  “I didn’t have a bassinet.” She had planned to set up the crib and use it, even though everyone told her the baby would be way too small in the beginning. But purchasing a piece of furniture that would be used for probably three months at most seemed so frivolous.

  “It’s mine.”

  She waved at the wicker basket with the shelf underneath. “Well, obviously you bought it, since—”

  “I mean, it’s mine. As in, I slept in it when I was a baby.”

  She whipped around to stare at him, and he nodded again.

  “I remembered it this morning, so when you left, I called an Uber to take me to my parents’ house, to see if it was still there. And it was, obviously. All wrapped in plastic, even. The dresser too.” He pointed at the new piece of furniture. “I had no idea my mom was so sentimental, to be honest.”

  “Me neither,” Jenna murmured as she finally wandered into the room to get a closer look at a piece of Chad’s past that he now wanted to be a part of their future. There went the waterworks again.

  “You really do cry at everything nowadays, don’t you?” he whispered, placing his hand on her shoulder.

  She brushed away the tears and then ran her fingers along the edge of the bassinet. It was so small. She couldn’t believe she would soon give birth to a little human who would actually fit into it.

  His other hand rested on her other shoulder and he began a steady, slow massage. “Let’s make this work, Jenna,” he murmured. “Let’s figure out how to be a family.”

  She rested her arms on her belly. God, she wanted that.

  Chapter Seven

  Jenna went into work on Monday, leaving him sleeping in her bed. He really wanted to refer to it as their bed, but he was still unclear about their relationship, where they were, where they were heading. What she really wanted. He was pretty sure she wanted him, but with a few modifications. Which wasn’t really fair, was it? Why should he change when she had no intention of doing so?

  His dad called around lunchtime to let him know they were flying home the next day. “Your mother has this sudden urge to get home to check on her own parents,” he explained. “Which is entirely understandable. My brother agreed to take care of selling the estate.”

  “So you really are selling?” They’d talked about it several times while they’d hung out, waiting for Gramps to die. Chad had been against it; he wanted a physical place to return to, a location that would somehow preserve all those memories from his childhood, and maybe, especially, from the last few months. And now that he knew he was bringing his own child into the world, maybe he wanted to take the little tyke there someday, show them a piece of their heritage.

  “I don’t know what else to do, son. It’s old; it needs a lot of upkeep. And for what? For us to visit once a year, maybe every other year? It doesn’t seem worth it.”

  “Let me do it,” Chad blurted. “Let me take it on. I’ll hire someone to live there, to take care of the place when we aren’t there. I’ll manage it all.”

  “That’s a big project, especially if you’re going to handle it from overseas. Or are you thinking you’ll move here?”

  They didn’t know about the baby yet. Hell, they had
no idea he was even still with Jenna. When they first headed over to Scotland last October, he’d mentioned they had a fight and he wasn’t really sure where they stood. And in typical fashion for his parents, they’d never asked again.

  “Moving over there is definitely out of the question at the moment,” he hedged. “But I still want to keep the estate. It’s important to me, Dad.”

  And there was his father’s heavy sigh. Predictable. “I’ll talk to your uncle. Maybe he’s open to the idea, too. We haven’t really discussed it. We’re just going through the motions, it seems.”

  His parents never talked about anything, except golf. But they’d given him plenty of examples of how not to parent.

  “I’ll let you know what we decide,” his dad said. “I assume you’re staying at the house?”

  “Um, no, actually. I’m at Jenna’s apartment.”

  “Oh. I didn’t realize you two had gotten reacquainted.” Of course he didn’t. “Is she still living in the same place?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t see how you two don’t trip over each other in such a small space.” He could practically see his dad shaking his head. Wait until he saw all the baby stuff they’d added to that small space.

  “Well, shoot me a text when you land, so I know you made it home safely.” And then I’ll figure out how to tell you you’re going to be grandparents.

  * * *

  He made steak and scallops with haricots verts for dinner. Based on what Jenna had told him about her eating habits these days, he figured she’d be starved walking in the door, so he ensured it was ready by six.

  At six thirty, he texted her. Busy, was her reply. He stared at the single word, waiting for the little moving dots that indicated she was typing another text, but nothing happened.