I'm Having Your Baby?!

by Linda Turner

  Had she seen him? She must have—she couldn’t have missed him! But if she’d seen him, she sure as hell hadn’t acted like she’d known him, which didn’t make any sense. The lighting had been poor the other night, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think that she hadn’t gotten a good look at him. He’d been right in her face, for God’s sake! Given the chance, she should have been able to pick him out of a lineup at fifty yards.

  If it hadn’t been for her, he’d have been in Mexico by now, damn her to hell! It was what he’d worked and planned and risked everything for. But after she’d gotten away from him, he’d been afraid to chance it. He was well known to the police, and once the tricky little bitch went to them with a description of him and his van, his butt was fried. So he’d laid low and waited for them to come for him, sweating like a pig. But there’d been no knock at his door, nothing.

  He’d waited for a day and a half, wasting precious time, and with every passing hour his fury had grown until he’d known he couldn’t afford to wait any longer. She was a loose end, one that he’d left dangling long enough. She knew more than enough to send him to the chair, and unless he found a way to shut her up for good, he’d spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder.

  So he’d come back to the parking garage in the hopes that in the struggle between them, she might have dropped something that would tell him who she was. Instead, there she was, driving right past him. God, he had to be living right! She might as well have delivered herself to him on a platter. All he had to do was follow her, find out where she lived, and take care of her when the timing was right. She’d never know what hit her.

  A feral gleam burning in his close-set blue eyes, he executed a quick U-turn and threw a rude hand gesture at the other drivers who dared to honk at him. Seconds later, he was a half block behind the Volvo and slowly closing.

  A derisive smile curling his thin lips, he marveled at the stupidity of his quarry as the two women in the Volvo drove ten blocks to a parking garage on the river without ever realizing that they were being followed. Talk about a bunch of dumb idiots, he thought. He boldly drove into the garage behind them and found a space just five spaces away from theirs on the first floor, and they never noticed.

  He didn’t intend to let them out of his sight, but he’d hardly climbed out of his van and started after them when they were joined by a tall, lean, dark-haired dude who looked like trouble. Swearing under his breath, he quickly stepped back behind his van and reached for the knife hidden in his boot. But he didn’t need it. The trio headed for the stairs that led to the Riverwalk and never glanced back.

  Following them after that was a piece of cake. Blending in with weekend tourists, he drew nearer without them being aware of it. Then, before he quite realized where they were headed, they stepped through the doors of Joe’s Place. By the time he followed them inside, the three of them were stepping through the swinging doors of the kitchen like they owned the place.

  “Damn!”

  Muttering a curse, he hesitated and was wondering what to do next when the restaurant hostess approached and shot him a friendly smile. “A table for one, sir? Smoking or non?”

  He should have split right then and gotten out while he still could without being recognized. But he was desperate. Unless he found out who the curly-haired chick was, he was a condemned man. Glancing around, he spied an empty table that gave a clear view of the kitchen door and nodded toward it. “I’ll take that one. You sell beer in this joint?”

  “Yes, sir, we do.” If she thought it was too early to be hitting the bottle, she kept the thought to herself. Her smile firmly in place, she handed him a menu. “I’ll send your waitress right over. Enjoy your meal.”

  Not sparing the menu a glance, he kept his eyes on the kitchen door and waited for the waitress. Ten minutes later, she still hadn’t showed and he was getting impatient. He started to grab a busboy and demand some service, but just then, a fresh-faced waitress hurried over to him, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

  All smiles, she said charmingly, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to keep you waiting, but the place is a madhouse today. The owner’s wife came in today after being gone for months and everybody’s talking about her. She’s got amnesia! Can you believe it? At first I thought she was just playing around, but it’s true. Every time she sees me, she usually asks about my baby, but this time, she didn’t even know who I was. It was the strangest thing. What are you supposed to say to a person who hasn’t got a clue who you are?”

  Stunned, the man just looked at her. Was she for real? Had the bitch really lost her memory? Was that why she’d looked right through him? Elated, it was all he could do not to grin like an idiot. All this time, he’d been worrying for nothing. She wasn’t going to send the cops after him—she wasn’t going to do jack squat. Because she didn’t have a clue about what happened to her Thursday night. If he was lucky, she never would.

  “Amnesia, hmm?” he said, schooling his features to casual interest. “I never knew anyone who had that before. And you say this is the owner’s wife?”

  “Yeah. Annie Taylor. Joe—that’s the owner—” she explained helpfully, “was hoping that she might remember the restaurant since they used to eat most of their meals here, but so far, nothing’s clicked. It’s like she was just born yesterday or something.”

  “She doesn’t know anybody?”

  “No, not even Joe. Isn’t that the wildest thing you ever heard?”

  “Yeah, wild,” he muttered. Trying not to look too excited, he leaned casually back in his chair. “So is this permanent or what? There must be something the doctors can do.”

  “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” the girl said chattily. “But apparently she has to remember on her own. And poor Joe can’t push her too much or she might never get her memory back.”

  “No kidding? Man, that’s rough.” An idea already forming in his head, he had to fight back a smug smile of anticipation. So he’d scared her witless, had he? If the little witch thought she was terrified now, wait till she found out that he was just warming up. By the time he got through with her, she’d be lucky if he didn’t turn her into a blubbering idiot.

  Suddenly realizing how much she’d been talking, the waitress laughed. “I didn’t mean to talk your ear off—I just find this kind of stuff so interesting. So what can I get you?”

  He almost told her to forget it—she’d just given him everything he needed, including the broad’s husband’s name—but what the hell? He felt like celebrating. “How ‘bout your biggest chicken-fried steak and a beer?” he suggested. “I just got some good news.”

  “I’m going with Phoebe for a couple of hours,” Annie announced as she and Phoebe followed Joe into his office. “She’s showing a house at two and I’d like to see it.”

  Phoebe had made the suggestion as they’d followed Joe through the downtown traffic, and Annie had jumped at the chance to do something that would get her mind off what might have happened to her Thursday night. She’d expected Joe to agree that it would be better for her to get out for a while than sit around worrying about what Sam’s lab tests were going to turn up, but now, seeing his sudden scowl, she wasn’t so sure.

  “You want to go back to work? I don’t think so.”

  Taken aback, she blinked. “Excuse me?”

  “You’re in no condition to even think about working yet,” he said in the patient voice a father might use with a young daughter when explaining why she couldn’t go out and play on the road. “As soon as I get some work together to take home with me, we’ll go back to the apartment.”

  A meek, obedient wife might have taken that sitting down, but Annie had a feeling that was something she’d never been. Amusement warring with the first faint stirrings of temper in her eyes, she cocked her head and openly studied him. “I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t remember a thing about our marriage,” she said dryly, “but I can’t believe that I married a dictator. It just doesn’t feel like somethi
ng I’d do. Are you sure you’re my husband?”

  Watching the beginning of the fireworks from well out of the line of fire, Phoebe laughed. “He’s all yours, girlfriend. I know—I was a witness.”

  Joe’s lips twitched, but his jaw remained as unyielding as the Rock of Gibraltar. “Grant said you were supposed to rest,” he told Annie. “And so did Dr. Sawyer.”

  “I did,” she argued. “I slept ten hours last night. And it wasn’t like I was planning to run a marathon or anything,” she added. “Phoebe’s going to be doing all the work. I’m just going along for the ride. Maybe I’ll remember something.”

  Unmoved, he shook his head. “Forget it. You’re not supposed to force your memory.”

  Exasperated, Annie turned to her friend for help. “Is he always this stubborn?”

  “From where I’m sitting, I’d say you two were pretty even,” Phoebe said with a grin. “God help the baby.”

  Annie gave her a withering look. “That’s not quite the endorsement I was hoping for, Phoeb. I’m trying to win an argument here, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  “Just for the record,” Joe pointed out, “you were the one who always had the tenacity of a bulldog. So I’d watch who I was calling stubborn if I were you.”

  “But this is ridiculous! You can’t expect me to sit around here and the apartment for the next six to eight months and twiddle my thumbs waiting to have the baby. I’ll go crazy.”

  She had a point. She had amnesia, not a deadly disease, and he couldn’t keep her pinned up for the entire length of her pregnancy. But just the thought of letting her go anywhere without him made him want to bar the door. Because he was concerned, he told himself. That was all. Right now, she was as vulnerable as a child and had no one to protect her but him.

  Yeah, you keep on telling yourself that and you just might start to believe it in another hundred years or so, a caustic voice drawled in his head. You know you never got over her. Why don’t you just admit it and put yourself out of your misery?

  Muttering a curse under his breath, he growled, “I have no intention of keeping you locked up like some kind of prisoner. I was concerned about you being stressed out from this morning, but you know better than I do how you feel. Go ahead and go if you want. Just call if you’re going to be late getting back. Okay?”

  When her face lit up like a Christmas tree and she nodded, he tried not to take it personally. She wasn’t thrilled at the thought of getting away from him—she just needed a break. Considering the circumstances, he supposed he couldn’t really blame her.

  “We’ll only be gone a couple of hours,” Phoebe assured him. “After the showing, I thought I’d take her by the office and see if anything looks familiar. I’ll have her back by two-thirty or three, tops.”

  He nodded, resigned to the inevitable. He didn’t have to worry that Phoebe would let anything happen to her. She was as protective as an older sister and wouldn’t let her out of her sight. Still, he knew he would be watching the clock every second that they would be gone, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Pushing to his feet, he forced a smile. “Then you’d better get out of here or you’ll be late for your appointment.”

  Within ten minutes of leaving with Phoebe, Annie knew why they had been friends for most of their lives. Carefree and irreverent, Phoebe told one outrageous story after another, swearing they were all true, not stopping until Annie cried with laughter. And for the first time since she’d awakened naked in a strange man’s bed, Annie was able to forget the horror of not remembering who or what she was. With Phoebe, it didn’t matter that she couldn’t remember having been maid of honor at her wedding when she married right out of college, or being there for her when her husband beat her and she kicked him out. The bond between them was deeper than memories, and they seemed to have a zillion things to talk and laugh about. It was wonderful.

  Wiping at her streaming eyes as they headed for the Dominion, an exclusive gated community on the outskirts of town where the rich and beautiful lived, she laughed, “Stop it! You’re killing me. You’re making that up!”

  Her eyes twinkling, Phoebe held up her hand and swore solemnly, “As God as my witness, I’m not. We were on our way to Dallas and had three flats in one day! And not one man stopped to help us. You changed the last one, and when a carful of college boys flew by and honked, you threw the tire iron after them.”

  “I did not!”

  “Yes, you did. I swear! It took us twenty minutes to find it in the tall grass on the side of the road.”

  Grinning, Annie said, “God, I wish I could remember that. We must have had some fun times together.”

  “Oh, we did! Lord, we were something. Do you remember the time we…”

  She didn’t remember anything, of course, but that didn’t stop Phoebe from reminiscing. Listening, Annie felt as if she was eavesdropping on another woman’s life, a woman she still didn’t know but was beginning to realize she liked a great deal. Was she really that daring? That adventurous? She and Phoebe must have given their parents fits growing up… and a lot of reasons to laugh.

  Soaking up the stories like a sponge, she couldn’t seem to stop smiling. “It’s a wonder we didn’t spend all our time in detention when we were in school. I bet the principal was crazy about us.”

  “Old Cue Ball?” she retorted with a chuckle. “Why do you think he lost all his hair?”

  They were still chuckling when they met with the prospective buyer at the entrance to the Dominion and showed him a mansion that overlooked the golf course. It was a breathtaking place, and watching Phoebe in action, Annie could see why she’d gone into business with her. She was good. Damn good. All joking forgotten once the buyer showed up, she was gracious and professional and able to answer all the man’s questions without once consulting her notes. Singing the property’s praises without being too pushy, she dropped subtle hints that the place wouldn’t be on the market for long considering how reasonable the asking price was.

  Listening to her, Annie almost choked on a laugh at that. How could Phoebe say that with a straight face, when the asking price was nearly a million dollars?

  Behind the man’s back, Phoebe winked at her. “We’ve got a live one here,” she whispered when the buyer stepped out onto the patio to inspect the pool. “What do you want to bet he doesn’t walk away from here without signing a contract?”

  “Are you kidding?” she hissed, casting a quick look toward the open patio doors. “All he’s done since we got here is point out everything that’s wrong with the place.”

  Practically rubbing her hands with glee, Phoebe grinned. “Don’t you just love it when a man plays hard to get?”

  Annie laughed—she couldn’t help it—and before it was all said and done, she had to give Phoebe credit. The man followed them back to their office, filled out the necessary paperwork, and signed on the dotted line. Annie would never have believed it if she hadn’t seen it with her own two eyes.

  Laughing, Phoebe gave her a high five as soon as they had the office to themselves. “God, I love this business! It’s days like this that make it all worthwhile. C’mon, let’s celebrate!”

  Considering the size of the commission she’d just made, Annie expected her to suggest they go out for champagne or something, but her friend reached into the bottom drawer of her desk and drew out a cookie tin instead. Popping the lid, she held it out to Annie with a smile. “It doesn’t get any better than this, girlfriend. Try one.”

  Amused, Annie reached into the tin and pulled out something that seemed to be a combination of a cookie and a brownie and was dark with rich chocolate. Taking a bite, she groaned with pleasure. “Oh, that’s wonderful! Did you make these?”

  Phoebe nodded. “It’s your mother’s recipe. When we were kids, we used to drive her crazy eating the dough before she could bake it. I was hoping you’d remember.”

  Her smile fading, Annie tried, but as before, all she came up with was a black wall that blocked her memor
y and wouldn’t let anything through. “I want to,” she said huskily, “but I can’t. There’s just nothing there. Tell me about my mother…my parents. Where are they? Do I see them often?”

  “They died in a car accident when you were twenty,” her friend said softly. “Your father was never around much when we were growing up—he was always working—but your mom was great. She taught us both to drive a stick shift and water-ski. And man, could she cook! She was always trying something new. It’s too bad she didn’t live long enough to meet Joe. She would have loved talking shop with him.”

  She sounded like a wonderful mother, but nothing Phoebe said stirred a memory. Regret darkening her eyes and squeezing her heart, she said, “I wish I remembered her. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so alone.”

  “You have Joe, Annie. I know he still seems like a stranger to you, but you can count on him,” she said earnestly. “Just give it some time.”

  Since time was all she had, Annie could do nothing else. But no one seemed to realize how difficult that was. She was living with a man she didn’t know, sleeping in his bed at night, while the two of them circled each other during the day like two adversaries in some kind of contest. She could see the emotions in his eyes every time he looked at her, feel the jerky beat of her heart whenever he inadvertently touched her, and couldn’t for the life of her explain any of it.

  “Tell me about him,” she said impulsively. “I have so many questions that I can’t ask him to his face.”

  For a minute, Phoebe almost told her, but then she shook her head, a crooked smile tilting up one corner of her mouth. “Oh, no, you don’t. The doctor wants you to remember on your own. If you want to talk about Joe, you tell me about him. For all practical purposes, he was a stranger to you until a couple of days ago. Now that you’ve spent some time with him, what do you think of him?”

  That was something she didn’t even have to think about. “He’s strong and protective—the kind of man who naturally takes charge in a crisis. And gentle,” she added, remembering the way he had taken care of her when she was sick. “He’s a good man.”