Little Secrets--Unexpectedly Pregnant

by Joss Wood

  * * *

  The next morning, Sage stood in her shower and lifted her face up to receive a blast of hot water. She ached in places she didn’t know she had, good places, places that had been long neglected. Her body felt like she’d spent the day at a spa, loose and relaxed.

  Her mind felt like a turtle trying to walk through peanut butter.

  Sage placed her hands on the wall of the shower cubicle and watched the water swirl around the drain. What were the implications of making love with Tyce? Was it a once-off thing? What did any of it, all of it, mean?

  Sage closed her eyes in frustration and slapped her hand against the white tiles. What had happened to her ordered, calm life? Three months ago she felt calm and in charge and one night—one night!—with Latimore flipped everything around.

  Tyce was an amazing lover, but he was also a good man. Good seemed like a bland word but Sage thought it was underused and misunderstood. Good didn’t mean rich or good-looking; it meant that someone was prepared to do the right thing, the honorable thing, to take the path less traveled, even if it flew in the face of convention. Good, to her, meant that he was responsible, honorable and honest.

  She liked him...

  Sage sighed. She’d forgotten how much she enjoyed his company out of the bedroom. She spoke more than he did but, over these past few days, Tyce held up his end of the conversation. They’d discussed movies and politics, books and, of course, art. Actually, they’d argued about art... Tyce, surprisingly, had a fondness for the Dutch Golden Age of painting, artists like Hals and van Baburen, and Sage preferred art from the twentieth century.

  But whether they were talking art or music, spending time with Tyce was...fun. Stimulating and relaxing at the same time. She felt she could say anything to him and he wouldn’t judge her. Connor was like that and Sage was reminded of how much alike they were. Strong, alpha, honorable men. Honest men...about everything. Including their antipathy toward relationships and commitment.

  Like before, Tyce tempted her to open up, to give him more, to delve beneath the surface of her armor. That was still a very dangerous path to walk down and she couldn’t allow herself to take it. She could not drop her shields and let him into her heart. That way lay hurt, disappointment and madness. Tyce had the power, like nobody she’d ever encountered before, to turn her life upside down. Loving and then losing him would devastate her and having to interact with him as they raised a child together would be like trying to dodge asteroid strikes while walking through the last level of hell.

  Frankly, that scenario was best to be avoided. If she was smart she’d say thanks for the fun time and push him out of her apartment and her life. She’d done it with other men, not many, and she could do it with Tyce. But she didn’t want to. She wanted more sex, more conversations and yes, she thought as her stomach growled, more of his fabulous cooking.

  Maybe she could have a fling with him. She could enjoy his body and his mind and when they ran out of steam, which they would, she’d revert back to being friends and co-parents because she’d been sensible and kept her heart out of their interactions.

  She could do that, she decided. Connor told her she could do anything she wanted to...

  Okay, maybe he hadn’t been thinking of her in terms of her having a no strings fling when he imparted those words of wisdom. But she was a smart, modern woman and like millions of smart, modern women she knew that the act of sex was not a declaration of love, commitment or anything other than the giving and receiving of pleasure.

  She could keep her heart out of the equation and stay emotionally protected.

  Couldn’t she?

  Nine

  Tyce looked around as Sage finally made an appearance the next morning. She looked better than she had last night, but her walk down the cast-iron staircase suggested that she was still feeling a little stiff. Standing at her sloping windows, he watched her as she headed straight for the coffee machine, her eyes foggy from sleep. They’d only been together a few weeks so long ago but some things hadn’t changed: the great sex, obviously, the fact that she squeezed toothpaste from the middle of the tube and that her brain didn’t start to work properly until after nine and three cups of coffee, now decaffeinated because of the baby.

  Tyce looked at his watch. It was bang on nine and he’d been up since five, had gone to his warehouse to pick up clothes and returned here before six. He’d then pushed back her furniture and done an hour of Tai Chi before heading outside for a run. Sage was barely functional.

  Tyce walked across the room, his bare feet making no sound on the wooden floors. “Morning,” he said, stopping a foot from Sage’s turned back.

  Sage yelped, squealed and groaned. She turned around quickly and, hand on her heart, scowled at him. “Holy crap, Latimore! Scare me to death, why don’t you?”

  “Sorry.”

  Stepping around her, Tyce reached for a cup from the cupboard above the coffee machine and placed it beneath the spout of the machine. He hit a button and the air between them filled with the rich scents of very expensive coffee. For the last few years he’d been living on a budget, curtailing his expenses, but good coffee was one of the few luxuries he’d been unable to deny himself.

  Sex with Sage, as he’d decided last night when she lay across his chest, damp and boneless, was another of the necessities of life he couldn’t do without. Speaking of, it had been too long since he’d last kissed her...

  Tyce was just about to place his hands on her hips, lower his mouth to hers, when she spoke.

  “So, I supposed we’d better talk about what happened last night.”

  Ugh. He really didn’t want to. Tyce succumbed to his urge to touch and hooked his hand around her neck, using his thumb to tip her face upward. “I always prefer action to discussion.”

  Sage half smiled. “I know you do but I think that, three years ago, one of our faults was that we spent too much time making love and not nearly enough time talking.”

  Tyce mock frowned at her. “FYI, a man can never spend enough time in bed.”

  “Duly noted.” Sage placed her hands on his chest and pushed away. “But, sorry for you, I do have something to say.”

  Dammit, Tyce thought, stepping back. Here it comes... I don’t think this is a good idea; we shouldn’t complicate the situation; I’ve got a lot on my plate. He was expecting at least one excuse for them not to continue sleeping together, possibly all three.

  “Are you interested in having more sex with me?”

  Hot damn. Was that even a serious question? Judging by the traces of insecurity he saw in her eyes and the tremor in her voice, it sure sounded like one. Hell, yes, he wanted to sleep with her again. As many times as was humanly possible. “Uh... Yes?”

  “You don’t sound too sure,” Sage replied.

  “Trust me, I’m damn sure,” Tyce growled. “What’s this about, Sage?”

  Sage placed her hand over the rim of her cup and rolled the cup on the counter. “Well, we can do that, if you want.”

  Holy crap. “Is that something you want too, Sage?”

  He knew it was but he suddenly needed the words. “Yes. But...”

  Yes. It was a small-sounding word but it had huge consequences. He was going to have her again, and soon. As soon as she gave him the green light he’d kiss her and then he’d pull that thin cashmere jersey off her slim frame and he’d flip open the button to her jeans. They’d be naked and on the way to heaven.

  “But it can’t be more than sex, Tyce,” Sage said, rushing her words. “It’s what we’re good at. The rest of the stuff, we aren’t good at that.” She crossed her arms and rocked on her heels. “I don’t want to be hurt again, Tyce. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “I hear you, Sage. I don’t want to hurt you either. But we don’t have to label this, define this. We don’t have to put on restrictions, shove what we have into a box.
No expectations, no pressure,” Tyce told her. “We’re just two people who think the other is hot, who are having a baby together and who are now sleeping together.”

  Tyce couldn’t help but notice the relief in her eyes but sighed at the worry one layer down. Sage was still so damn vulnerable, and he’d have to be careful with her and for her. He’d have to be the one who kept an eye on how far and fast this went because there was, no matter what he said, always the possibility of this situation blowing up in their faces. They had a baby to raise together and they couldn’t do that effectively if they ended up hating or resenting each other.

  It was important that he looked at this situation clearly. He’d been alone for so damn long, hell, he’d spent his life alone and he didn’t know how to make the emotional connections that people needed. Only now, as an adult, did he realize how tired and drained he was when he was younger from constantly living in a state of fight-or-flight. Yeah, he’d take Sage’s offer of sex—what man wouldn’t?—but he’d put himself in a situation of feeling out of control and desperate.

  But, for now, he’d enjoy her, take what she was so generously offering because making love with Sage was earth-shattering.

  Tyce lifted his hand to touch her, to connect, but she shook her head and stepped out of his reach. Damn, she wasn’t done talking...

  “I know that we are equally responsible for me being pregnant but I have this crazy urge to apologize, to say sorry for messing up your life with a baby.”

  God. That was what she was thinking? That her being pregnant was something he regretted? Man, she couldn’t be more wrong. He regretted many things, particularly his inability to be the type of man she needed, but he had no regrets about their still-baking baby.

  Maybe that was because he was starting to see their child as a bridge back to some sort of normality, a way to modify his ideas about families and what they meant. He was being given a second chance, as an adult, to create a unit that had all the people in all the right roles. He and Sage wouldn’t live together but his child would have a mother and a father and they would be the adults and their child would have the freedom to be a child.

  And yes, maybe he was looking at this baby as the one soul with whom he could reconnect emotionally; a safe place to try that. His kid would be his kid, would be a big part of his life for the next eighteen years at least, right?

  Tyce placed his hands on either side of Sage’s face, thinking that her skin was so soft, that she smelled like a field of gently scented roses. Her blue eyes locked on his and he took a step so that her breasts just touched his chest. He needed to get closer, needed to feel her in his arms, needed... God, he needed her. His head started to swim but he knew he couldn’t afford to be distracted; his answer was too important to mess up. “We’ve made a muddle of a lot of things, Sage, but you having my baby? That’s not one of them.”

  “Are you sure? He, or she, is going to flip our world.”

  “That’s not always a bad thing and I’m strapped in for the ride.” He kissed her nose before pulling her closer, hugging her tight. “The baby is a gift that I haven’t said thank you for so...thank you. I have many regrets, Sage, but this baby will never be one of them.”

  Tyce felt a little of her tension seep out of her body so he lowered his head and slowly, gently kissed the corner of her mouth, leaving his lips there, inhaling her unique scent. This time he allowed his head to swim, and placed a hand in the middle of her back and pulled her up against his body, his erection pushing into her stomach, her breasts against his chest. Sage sighed and once again he slowly, gently traced the seam of her mouth, the edges of her lips. He wanted to plunge and plunder, to allow their crazy passion to spiral but he knew that if he let passion reign, he’d lose her.

  This was a kiss of promise, of tenderness, something different than what they’d ever shared before. This wasn’t the time, he reminded his junk, to do what came naturally. That time would come later and he could wait. This moment was too important to mess up.

  Tyce pulled back and then stepped away from her, running his hands through his hair. He risked looking at Sage. She held her fingers to her lips, her eyes wide and dreamy. Tyce started to move toward her, caught himself and muttered a silent curse.

  His sensible side surfaced. If he didn’t corral his emotional side he would create that which would be forever difficult to tame. Later, he could love her when emotion wasn’t running quite so high, when his heart wasn’t trying to punch its way out of his chest. Yeah, it was better if they calmed down a little.

  Or a lot.

  * * *

  Sage had run out of excuses to delay meeting Lachlyn. She’d deliberately missed a dinner at The Den to introduce Lachlyn to the clan and she’d postponed meeting her for coffee. Twice. Her excuses were so thin they had holes in them. Giving in to verbal pressure from her brothers, and subtle, silent pressure from Tyce, Sage finally asked Tyce’s sister to meet her at The Den. Linc and Tate and their kids were out of town so she had her childhood home to herself and she thought it was the right place for their first meeting.

  Sage stepped into the hallway of the famous brownstone and started to unwrap her scarf. “Maybe we should’ve met at a coffee shop.”

  Tyce, who’d offered to accompany her to The Den and stay to introduce them before leaving them to talk, didn’t reply. He just stood in the double-volume hallway, his eyes darting around the magnificent space. Tyce was another reason why she couldn’t delay meeting Lachlyn any longer. The newest member of the clan was his sister and she couldn’t keep avoiding her baby’s aunt.

  Despite her excuses not to meet Lachlyn, Sage could admit to feeling a tad braver, a little stronger about the changing circumstances. Also, being around Tyce made her feel like she should step up a bit more. He was consistently strong and she was not talking about that most very excellent body she adored. He was mentally tough and if they were going to co-parent together, be in each other’s lives, she had to be, as well.

  She wanted to be the best version of herself, for her baby, obviously, but also for Tyce.

  “Are you okay, Sage?”

  Sage darted a look at him and shrugged. Was she? This was a little similar to an adopted child meeting her biological mother for the first time. “I’m nervous, jittery, excited, nauseous.”

  Tyce’s smile touched his sexy mouth. “She’s feeling the same.”

  “You should be with her, Tyce. This is a big deal for her,” Sage said, feeling guilty.

  “Lach is an excited nervous but you’re a terrified nervous,” Tyce replied. “Lachlyn isn’t going to run like a rabbit but you might.”

  True. Will she like me? Sage placed a hand on her stomach. Will I like her? Will she get my jokes? God, she really hoped Lachlyn had a sense of humor. Would she ask to borrow money or clothes or, God, jewels? No, of course she wouldn’t, this was Tyce’s sister, for goodness’ sake, and Tyce wouldn’t have raised her to think like that.

  Will she like me? Will I like her?

  Now she was repeating her thoughts and totally losing it. Sage glanced at her watch, a minute to go, if Lachlyn was the prompt type.

  “Take a breath, Sage.”

  “Why am I doing this?”

  “I’m presuming that’s a rhetorical question?” Tyce asked, his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

  “Lachlyn might fly into my life, hang around and then disappear again.”

  Tyce walked over to her and rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “Why would you think that?”

  “Because that’s what people do!” She frowned. “What if we bonded, if we came to love each other and she died? Of cancer or in a helicopter crash?”

  “Dramatic much, Sage? She’s an archivist—she deals with documents. She might die from falling off a ladder or after being buried by falling boxes but she won’t die from a helicopter crash.”

  Sage f
rowned at her lover. “You’re mocking me.”

  “Just a little.”

  He didn’t understand and he probably never would. Sure, she sounded like a drama queen but she’d had her life wrenched apart; she’d experienced death and desolation. She knew that bad things happened when they were least expected to.

  She couldn’t do this, she thought. She couldn’t let Lachlyn in. Sage picked up her coat from where she’d tossed it onto the chaise lounge to the left of the door. She shoved her arm into a sleeve. If she hurried, she could leave before Lachlyn arrived.

  The heavy chimes of the doorbell rang through the hallway and, looking through the glass inserts, Sage saw a tiny blonde standing outside, her chin pushed into the folds of a pink scarf.

  Lachlyn was here, actually here. Suddenly Sage didn’t know what to do or what to say. Her eyes flew to Tyce’s face and she lifted up her hands. “Will you stay?”

  “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

  “Please?”

  “Hang on a sec, Lach,” Tyce called out. He stepped up to Sage and cupped the back of her head with his large hand, pulling her forehead to his chest. His head dropped and Sage heard his rumbling, sexy voice close to her ear.

  “She’s just as scared as you are. Like you, she just wants to be liked. She also just wants to know about her dad, this family. She’s the interloper here, Sage. This is your house, your family. There’s no reason for you to be scared.”

  “I don’t like letting people in, Tyce.” It was a massive admission and Sage wondered if he’d understand that she wasn’t talking about this house or her family but about letting people into her life.

  “Me neither, honey. But neither can we stay the same. We have to learn and we have to grow. And we can only do that by allowing new people and new experiences into our lives.” Tyce dropped a kiss into her hair. “She’s a nice person, Sage. You could come to love her.”

  And that was the problem, Sage thought. Loving someone was fine—she could do that. She just didn’t want to deal with the fallout when they stopped loving her and disappeared from her life in whatever form that took.