Wedding Rings and Baby Things

by Teresa Southwick

  “Nothing.”

  “Yeah, and I’m Princess Di. Are you afraid to sleep with me? No, not even with me, to be in the same house with me?”

  “How could I be afraid of you?”

  “I don’t know, but you are. You afraid you’ll get pregnant?”

  “Very funny.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “All of my things are still over there. We agreed our marriage would be only for a few months. Seems like a waste of time and energy to move everything down here, then back when we split—”

  “Geez. We said ‘I do’ four hours ago, and not only are you talking about the end, you’re acting like I’ve got the plague.”

  “I’m sorry, Mike. I don’t mean to.”

  “If even one person believes this is not a real marriage, it could get ugly.”

  “Define real.” She bit the corner of her lip, and her eyes grew wider as they filled with doubt. She’d never looked at him with anything but trust, teasing or laughter. He didn’t like what she was thinking.

  “We’ve joked about jocks being Neanderthals with too many hands. But let’s get something straight here and now. I would never push my advantage. I’m not like Doug—”

  “Oh, Mike,” she said, moving forward. She put her hand on his arm and looked up at him, contrition written all over her face. “I didn’t mean to imply that. You’re my best friend. I know better than anyone that you’re nothing like him. It’s not you I’m worried about. It’s m—” She stopped and her eyes widened more if possible.

  “It’s what?” he asked.

  “That’s not important.”

  “It is to me. I’m your friend. This is your home for as long as you want or need one for yourself and the baby. I want you to be comfortable with me.”

  “I am.”

  He snorted. “Yeah. About as comfortable as a quarterback looking at a safety blitz.”

  “I don’t quite know what that means, but I sense that you’re having some trouble believing me.”

  “It means the other team sends about eight hundred pounds of defensive linebacker, including the safety, to rip off the quarterback’s head. Damn right I don’t believe you. If it will make you feel better, I had the cleaning service get the guest room upstairs ready for you.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah.” Looking at her now, all soft and sexy and sleepy, he wanted nothing more than to put her in his bed. Not for anything physical, he wasn’t that insensitive a jerk. After all she was pregnant.

  He just wanted her here. When he had told her he was tired of sleeping alone, he hadn’t realized how true it was until the moment she had said she was going to the guest house. For a split second, he’d thought she was going to say it was herself she was afraid of. And the look in her eyes had almost made him think she wanted him as more than a friend. Then the look was gone, replaced by fear.

  He couldn’t stand that As much as he had resisted getting the upstairs room ready, now he was glad he had. He had sworn he would never marry again, but he had. Only because his relationship with Kelly was different. It wasn’t love. There was no such thing.

  “You don’t mind separate rooms?” she asked.

  “Nope.”

  “What happened to all that stuff about being lonely? And your empty bed?”

  He waved a hand as if to dismiss her misgivings. “It was just talk. You wanted ten good reasons why we should get married. It was part of the gag.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’ve never lied to you.” Until now, he thought.

  “Then, yes. The guest room would be fine.”

  “I’ll help you bring your stuff over. At least what you’ll need for tonight.”

  She stood on tiptoe and waited for a second. Then she frowned at him, but there was a twinkle in her eyes. “You want to bring your face down here so I can kiss it?”

  With his hands still in his pockets, he bent just far enough for her soft lips to reach his cheek. He hoped she wouldn’t notice his quickened breathing, his racing heart. He didn’t want to scare her off. And if he gave in to his feelings, he would sweep her into his arms for a repeat of their earlier kiss.

  He straightened and winked at her. “Come on, Walker. Let’s go get your PJs and toothbrush.”

  “Like a slumber party,” she said.

  “Yeah.” He groaned inwardly.

  A hell of a sleep-over. One that lasted four months, with him in a constant state of need.

  Sometime in the middle of the night, Kelly got out of bed and walked downstairs. She couldn’t sleep. Strange house, strange bed. Different smells. Disturbing thoughts.

  She went into the kitchen and turned on the light beneath the hood over the stove. The rest of the house was dark. Blinking at the bright light as she opened the refrigerator, she pulled out the milk carton, then poured some in a mug. After setting it in the microwave to warm, she leaned her back against the bar and listened to the hum, reminding herself to stop it before the beeping woke Mike.

  He was the primary reason for her disturbing thoughts.

  Earlier, when she had kissed him, she had sensed his response. Although she couldn’t believe he wanted her, especially in her present condition, he was a man. Now he was a married man and he had agreed to a platonic relationship. She had some idea what that cost him.

  She wasn’t stupid; she had a brother. She had been around the block once or twice. In fact, lately she understood the hormone battle a whole lot better. Mike was a red-blooded man. He had needs.

  And he had put his physical needs aside for her. He was a real friend. She didn’t ever want to lose that.

  She wanted to return the favor. But how?

  “Something wrong, Kel?”

  She whirled around, heart pounding. “Mike!”

  “Couldn’t you sleep?”

  “Where did you come from?”

  “There,” he said, nodding toward the family room.

  With the breakfast bar between them, she could only see him from the waist up. But his naked torso was enough to make her whacked-out hormones purr. Her eyes were drawn to the masculine sprinkling of hair on his chest, wide over the curved muscle below his collar bone, then tapering lower to his flat midsection. She swallowed hard, hoping like crazy that he was wearing something. She really didn’t want this to be the second time she saw him naked. Not when she was a swirling, seething swamp of female pheromone. She was here because of one mistake. She didn’t want to make another, even bigger, one.

  “Why were you on the sofa?” she asked.

  “There’s rice in our—I mean my bed.”

  His gaze dropped to a spot just below her chin, then quickly lifted again. She wished she’d thought to put on a robe, but hoped her fleece gown was thick enough. She instinctively hunched her shoulders forward.

  Mike pushed splayed fingers through his hair. “And rice isn’t all. Come and see what else your friend Susan did.”

  “How do you know it was her?”

  “Remember when she disappeared for so long during the reception?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Let me take you into the bedroom and show you her handiwork.” He walked to the end of the bar.

  Her cheeks burning, Kelly quickly shut her eyes. If he was buck-naked, she didn’t want to know.

  “I’m wearing boxers, Kel.” Amusement filled his voice.

  “Thank God.” She released her breath and looked at him.

  He held out his hand. “Come with me.”

  She hesitated a second before putting her fingers into his palm. His big warm hand felt good wrapped around hers. If things had been different, she would be sleeping in that downstairs room with him. Before she could stop it, regret and longing rose up inside her. She pushed it away as fast as she could.

  He took her down the hall and turned to his left. He flipped a switch, and the lights went on. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust.

  The master bedroom was big; she had forgotten ju
st how big. There was a California king-sized bed to accommodate Mike’s size, an oak armoire across from that and a matching dresser on the other wall. In front of the French doors that led out to the patio and pool and spa beyond, there were two powder blue, wingback chairs with a circular table between. Even with all the furniture, and these were big pieces, there was still a lot of rug to vacuum. And a good sweeping was definitely called for right now.

  There was rice all over the hunter green carpet

  “Susan was busy,” Kelly said as she took in the far corners of the room. “Looks like the Fourth of July in here.”

  Red, white and blue crepe paper streamers criss-crossed the ceiling, anchored by something that appeared to be balloons. When she looked closer, she saw that they were condoms, blown up and taped to every corner of the room, hanging from the brass lamps on the dresser and nightstands.

  She walked to the bed and looked. There was a ton of rice still on the sheets. Glancing back at Mike’s tall, muscular body, she couldn’t help noticing that there was just flimsy cotton underwear between her and Mike Cameron in the flesh—bare flesh. She turned back to the bed.

  Mike walked up behind her. She could feel the heat of him through her fleece nightgown.

  “I’m only surprised she didn’t tie bells underneath the mattress,” he said.

  “Bells? What for?” Kelly frowned. Then she got it and her cheeks burned. “Oh, you mean if we—”

  “Yeah.” His voice was grim, confirming her earlier misgivings about his sacrifice.

  “Mike, I need to talk to you about something.”

  “Is that why you were up warming milk at this hour of the night? Something’s on your mind?”

  She nodded. “I just wanted to tell you that if you want to date, and—” she nodded toward the bed “—you know. Well, I’ll understand. And I just want you to know that it’s all right with me.”

  Chapter Five

  Mike couldn’t believe he’d heard her right. “What did you say?”

  “If you want to date, I understand. It’s all right.”

  “The hell it is. I’m a married man. I don’t cheat on my wife.”

  “It wouldn’t be cheating if I said it was okay.” “No matter what you say, it’s not okay. It’s nuts, Kelly. The ink isn’t even dry on our marriage certificate and you’re talking divorce and affairs.”

  She sat down on the edge of the bed and sighed. “You’re a normal, red-blooded man. I’m trying to be sensitive.”

  “I’m shocked that you’d even suggest that I should see other women.”

  “Why? This is not a traditional union.”

  “No, but this is a traditional small town, with traditional small-town attitudes and traditional narrow minds. They frown on their teachers having affairs. Of all people, you should know what can happen.”

  Hurt filled her eyes before she lowered her gaze to her clasped hands. “As you pointed out once, I don’t have a belt. But you’re developing a bad habit of hitting below it.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to bring that up again. But you were threatened with termination for being pregnant.”

  “No, for not being married.”

  “Okay. But what do you think McCutcheon would do if someone spotted me with another woman?”

  “You could be discreet.”

  “The chances of pulling it off—even if I wanted to—are slim to none.”

  Mike had sown his share of wild oats and thought he’d seen it all, but this…The woman he’d married less than twelve hours ago had calmly told him to date—if the need arose. Even more shocking to him, he couldn’t think of a single woman he’d rather be with than the beautiful, pregnant one sitting on his bed. Maybe he had been tackled one too many times without a helmet.

  Mike sat down beside her and rested his elbows on his knees. “If I was caught in an affair, Doug would have a field day. He’d chew you up and spit you out if he makes good on his threat to push the custody issue. What would that do to your chances of keeping the baby? That’s why we did this in the first place. Remember?” he asked sharply.

  “I’m trying to think of everyone.” She twisted her fingers in her lap. “I’m afraid you’ll hate me. I don’t want to lose you as my friend, Mike.” She bowed her head, and her hair swept forward, hiding her face like a brown silk curtain.

  “Have I ever lied to you, Kelly?”

  She sniffed. “Not that I can remember.”

  “It’s not my style.”

  “I thought you said you don’t have a style.”

  “I do when it comes to friendship. I don’t lie and I don’t keep things from my friends. Trust me. If I need a woman, you’ll be the first to know. Okay?”

  “Okay.” She sniffled.

  “Now, shall we go put some chocolate in that warm milk?”

  She nodded. “You want some? It’s good for what ails you.”

  “Okay.”

  Kelly looked at him and smiled. Her beauty burrowed deep inside him and warmed every cold corner of his heart. It zapped him like a lightning bolt. What he felt for Kelly was more than friendship. He didn’t dare say that to her, though. If he did, she would be outta there like a wide receiver with the long ball. He’d promised not to lie to her, and he couldn’t tell her the truth.

  This was something chocolate couldn’t fix. Maybe nothing could.

  Kelly lay flat on her back on the exam table waiting for the ultrasound technician. She stared at the white sheet over her belly. “I look like a covered wagon.”

  Mike laughed. “This may or may not be an attempt at humor by exaggeration. Either way, I’m not getting sucked in. No comment,” he said, grinning.

  Kelly’s heart did that little skip it always did when he smiled at her that way. Why was it the bigger she got the better looking he got?

  “Chicken,” she said with a sniff.

  “Smart,” he returned. “If I say you don’t look like a covered wagon, you’ll say I’m lying or need glasses. If I agree with you, you’ll rip out my throat”

  “Have I really been that cranky?” she asked, afraid she’d pushed his good nature to the breaking point. “You didn’t have to come with me for this test.”

  “No, you have not been cranky. And I didn’t have to come with you. I wanted to.”

  School had ended for summer vacation, and she didn’t have any responsibilities until September at Stevenson High School. The issue of her termination had been dropped after her marriage, now a month and a half old. She had changed her name from Walker to Cameron on everything from her driver’s license and school district personnel file to her medical records. She and Mike had developed a routine in the house and had settled into an easy, comfortable living arrangement. He was supportive, fun and surprisingly tidy for a man. As a roommate, she couldn’t ask for more.

  As for her feelings, she could ask for less. A lot less. Sharing a house with him was very intimate. She saw Mike first thing in the morning and last thing at night. They did laundry together and were learning an intricate kitchen choreography as they cooked meals side by side. Laughter and good-natured disagreements were a normal part of their day. It was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the way her heart skipped a beat when he entered a room, the goose bumps his deep voice raised on her arms, her eager anticipation to see him when he was away from the house. These reactions were more than friendship, and slipping dangerously close to “romantic attraction.” What if the male-female thing didn’t go away after the baby was born?

  She sighed. “Oh, go ahead, Mike. Take your best shot at this misshapen body. I’m tough. I can take it.”

  “You’re the English teacher and I’m sure you’ll correct me if I’m wrong, but doesn’t the prefix mis imply bad or wrong?”

  “It does.”

  “Then let me point out there is nothing wrong with the way you look. For a pregnant lady, due to deliver in five weeks—”

  “Four,” she quickly corrected him.

  “Four weeks,”
he said, without missing a beat, “you look exactly the way you should. Healthy, glowing and very beautiful, I might add.”

  “Flatterer,” she grumbled. “And on the edge of fibber. If this is the way I was meant to look four weeks before giving birth, then the term Mother Nature should be Father, and proof positive that God is indeed a man.”

  “I notice you’ve gone from thinking in terms of so many months along to how many weeks until kickoff.”

  Kelly winced at his euphemism. “That’s a very uncomfortable visual.”

  “Sorry.” He shifted, and the chair beside her squeaked. “I’m going to have to keep my mouth shut to avoid putting my foot in it.”

  “Good idea, Cameron. The next crack you hear could be your head,” she said jokingly.

  As they laughed, the technician walked in. “Mr. and Mrs. Cameron, my name is Stephanie Daniels. Are you ready to get started?”

  “Yes,” Kelly answered.

  “All right. I’m going to turn out the light so there’s no glare on the screen. I’ll be taking pictures, too, but we don’t want the light to obstruct your view of your baby,” she said looking directly at Mike.

  Interesting, Kelly thought. The technician assumed Mike was the father. It made her pause, but she decided it was easier not to make the correction.

  The room went dark, and the only illumination came from the ultrasound machine when it was turned on. Glancing at Mike, Kelly could see his face clearly in the glow.

  “The hum you hear is just the fan on the instrument,” the technician explained. She picked up a tube and said, “This will be cold.”

  After the squirt, Kelly felt the gel on her abdomen. “Yikes,” she gasped, sucking in her breath.

  “You okay?” Mike said, taking her hand.

  “Fine. Cold doesn’t completely describe that stuff. Do you keep it in the freezer?”

  Stephanie laughed. “Now I’m going to press the probe against you. It won’t hurt, just a firm pressure. I need to find the optimum position.” She concentrated on her job.

  With her abdomen partially exposed, Kelly was glad the lights were out. But when she glanced at Mike, she found he wasn’t looking at her. He studied the screen with a look of intense fascination on his face. “That’s a real live little person in there.”