HAVING HIS CHILD

by Amy J. Fetzer

  She didn't know whether to be pleased or angry. She'd wanted to pick these things out. Well, it was her taste she thought a second later running her hand over the headboard of the crib leaning against the end of the sofa. Did he think that buying all this would sway her? Or was he thinking to prove he could provide when she couldn't?

  No, not Lucas, he was never the one-upmanship type.

  She went to the kitchen to start dinner, and when she had the pot roast tucked in the warm oven, she headed to the bedroom. She was dusting when she realized there was another dresser in the bedroom, and a vanity. Both matching his set.

  Okay, this is big guns, she thought, smiling and peeking in all the drawers of the vanity, sitting for a second on the delicate stool. Shaking her head, she finished in the master bedroom, then headed for the guest room. It was locked. She frowned, flipping through her set of keys for one that might open it. He'd never locked it before.

  What didn't he want her to see?

  She tried the keys and jiggled the doorknob.

  "Need help?" She looked up, and Lucas smiled at the guilty expression on her pretty face.

  "Why is this locked?"

  He shrugged and whipped out his keys, then opened the door. He pushed, and it swung wide. Angela stared like an idiot at the half-painted room. A white rail lined the wall, and there was a mural of meadows and fluffy white clouds near the ceiling painted all around the room. Below the rail was wall-paper that looked like a picket fence.

  Her throat thickened as she stepped inside, onto the tarp. "You did this?"

  "Had to have something to do for the past couple of weeks." Alone, without you. Missing you, Lucas wanted to say but treaded carefully.

  Angela moved closer to the walls. There were little sheep eating flowers, ducks in the pond, a little farmhouse in the distance. "This is incredible," she said.

  "I haven't got the clouds just right, though." He crossed to the sponge and paint, opened the can, stirred a little before dipping, then reached high to press more white onto the blue of the sky.

  "I knew you could draw, but I didn't know you were this talented."

  "Me, neither. Who'd have figured that one, huh? I learned how to do this from watching one of those home improvement shows." He blotted once, twice, then stood back to survey his work.

  "Do you really think a child will notice whether the clouds are perfect or not?" she asked.

  "Nah, but I will."

  "Why are you doing this all now, Lucas? It's a little soon, you know. Something could happen."

  "Nothing is going to happen to our baby." He shot a glance over his shoulder, his look fierce. "Nothing."

  "Do you think this will convince me you want to be a dad?"

  "I will be a father, Angel. But do I still have to convince you?" He held his breath, still looking over his shoulder, his hand poised to apply more paint.

  "No, you most definitely don't. Not anymore."

  Smiling, he faced her, laying the cloud-shaped sponge aside and snatching up a cloth to wipe his hands. "Good, finally."

  She took a step back.

  His smile fell.

  "I know you want the baby. You've never had any family except mine."

  Lucas felt a chill crawl up his spine.

  "And now I'm carrying your only real family."

  "Ours," he growled.

  "And just how am I supposed to take that? Part of me keeps screaming at me, go for it. The man you've loved forever wants to marry you. You're having his baby and look how he's proving he wants this child now. Wants to be a part of her life." She waved to the painted walls. "But now the baby is the problem."

  "No." His features tightened. "You're letting it be."

  She shook her head. "I'm carrying the one thing you've lacked your entire life. Family."

  His features tightened with anger. "Dammit, Ange, you've been my family. Now it's just growing larger."

  Her heart caved a little, and the longer she looked at him, the more it cracked and fell to pieces. He never mentioned loving her. Never once mentioned them.

  "I want to marry you," he said. "I want our baby to have a better start than I did. And I want that start to begin with you and me, together. What else can I do?"

  When she didn't answer and simply stared at him, Lucas saw her heart breaking right before his eyes and felt confused and helpless.

  "Do?" She sighed. He was doing all the right things, just not saying them. A baby and supplies and a marriage license didn't make a family, she thought. Love did. She wasn't going to push him into committing to her if he couldn't admit his feelings to himself. She loved him, had shouted it to the rooftops, but Lucas, she realized, would never be completely hers because he couldn't speak the same words out loud. To her.

  And she couldn't go on being the only one who could.

  He was still living his life inside his fear, as if he might want the chance to run. Still on the edge, not completely inside.

  She might have his heart, but he wasn't ready to let her hold it, protect it.

  Angela turned and walked out. He didn't call her back, didn't follow, and her heart shattered over and over as she hurried to her car. She barely glanced at the big black SUV sitting in the driveway where the silver Jaguar once was.

  Big guns, she thought. All firing blanks.

  For the only sounds she wanted to hear were three simple words.

  * * *

  In the studio, Angela sat at her console, feet propped on the desk, her head bowed. She felt drained even though she'd slept half the evening and hadn't gone to her Wife Incorporated job for the past few days. She really couldn't take another talk with Lucas right now and idly wondered what little toy or piece of baby equipment he'd bought. Then she realized she'd have to get the same things for her place.

  A little moan of despair escaped her. Separate lives, separate homes for their child. It was like a divorce without ever being married. Her chest tightened, and she cursed her heart for being so damned stubborn. Especially when she knew now he wanted to be a father and wanted her to be his wife. And she considered that since she hadn't spoken to him in a week, she just might have pushed him too far away.

  What do you want, for heaven's sake? a voice in her head asked.

  All of it.

  She wanted the great guy with the great career, the back yard full of kids and the house with a white fence, and dammit, more than anything she wanted Lucas to love her. Her. Not because of a baby, not because she wanted to hear it, but because he needed to say it. Because he wasn't scared of committing the rest of his life to her without those words.

  For with Lucas, once said, she knew it was true and forever.

  He'd never uttered them before.

  And she doubted he would now.

  Her producer tapped the glass, and Angela flinched, then looked at the red light flashing the phone line. A caller. Wonderful, she thought, and punched the button.

  "Hi, this is AJ, you're on the air."

  The caller cleared his throat, then said, "Hi."

  Angela rotated her hand, silently encouraging the caller to talk. "What can I help you with tonight?"

  "Well, there is this woman."

  "And? Is she making you miserable or deliriously happy?"

  The caller chuckled. "A lot of both, as a matter of fact."

  "Do you love her?"

  "Oh, yes. For a very long time. I want to marry her."

  "Does she love you?"

  "Yes, I have no doubt about that."

  She frowned at the microphone arching over her desk. "Then what's the problem?"

  "She doesn't believe that I want to marry her for the right reasons."

  "And those are?"

  "Barring details, well … we've had a relationship for years. We've been friends. Recently we've taken it further."

  Angela swallowed, her heart suddenly beating double time. "Go on."

  "I've always wanted this, but never dared because she was the best thing that ever happe
ned to me, and I didn't want to ruin it."

  "And this further step … you think you've ruined it."

  "No, it made us stronger."

  "Why wouldn't she want to take it further?"

  "I've had this problem with commitment, and she knows it. She's always known it. It's a little of what's kept us friends, and only friends, for so long."

  A chill tightened Angela's spine just then, and she slid her feet off the desk. "Is it true?"

  "It was, but now…"

  There was a stretch of silence on the air. Angela felt her palms sweating. "Talk about it. That's what I'm here for."

  "I've dated a lot of women who I've liked but never loved. Women who I knew deep down were not what I wanted in a wife. They were the complete opposite of her."

  "Why do you think you did that?"

  "Because I was protecting myself."

  "From what?"

  Someone tapped the glass of the studio, and Angela looked up as Lucas stepped before the window, holding his cell phone to his ear. She inhaled sharply, glancing at the computer screen, the mike, then back to him.

  "From what, caller?" She managed to speak over the knot in her throat.

  Lucas opened the door and stepped inside the booth. "From committing to anyone but her."

  Her heart jumped in her chest. "Why?" Angela rose slowly as he moved around the desk.

  Inches from her, he said, "Because she is the only person who has stuck by me, loved me for the man I am, not what I have. Or who I will be. She's the only one I can commit to. Because I've been hers since the day she asked me to walk her home from school."

  Angela's eyes burned as she gazed at him. "Personally, I think she's been a fool."

  "Ah, but she had good reason to doubt me." Luc shut off the cell phone.

  Angela pulled off the headset and tossed it aside.

  Her grinning producer opened the sound to the airwaves, and their words broadcasted across two states.

  Neither noticed.

  "Why is that?" Her voice shook with her emotions.

  "Because I forgot that you were a woman first and my friend second. I forgot to tell you that when I see you, everything in me jumps to life, that to look in your eyes is like losing a breath, and knowing you love me is like coming home, like heaven. I didn't tell you that I don't just desire you. Desire is a whim. I need you … to be whole." He swallowed, his Adam's apple scraping his dry throat. "I need you because I'm missing half of me when you're not near, and when we're apart … ah, God," he said, gazing deep into her eyes. "I feel as if I can't survive till we're together." He leaned forward, brushing his mouth over hers, and felt her lips tremble, heard her soft telling whimper. "See, I forgot," he whispered. "I forgot that just because I've known you for so long, shared everything with you, that I hadn't really shared what was hiding in my heart."

  Her gaze rapidly searched his. "What are you saying, Lucas?"

  "I love you."

  Her eyes immediately teared, her heart filing with sweet music.

  He cupped her face in his palms. "I love you, Angel. And I can't love anyone else, I never could … because I've loved you for fifteen years, and there just isn't any room for another woman. There never has been."

  "Lucas."

  His eyes burned as he sank his fingers into her hair, his gaze locked with hers and his emotions pouring through each word. "I love you, baby. I want to be your husband, your lover, the only person you turn to, the one who'll keep your secrets and share your dreams." He brushed his mouth over hers, once, twice, then said, "I don't know how to prove that I love you and I want to marry you, and not just because of this b—"

  She put two fingers over his lips. "You just did."

  His smile was slow and bone-racking sexy as he kissed her fingers, turned his face into her palm, briefly closing his eyes. "Then say you'll marry me." He looked at her, this woman he loved, this woman he wanted more than air, and produced a beautiful diamond solitaire. Taking her hand, he poised it at her fingertip. "This is only the beginning. Angel, say yes."

  Angela stared at the ring, her heart slipping up to her throat. "Yes," she whispered, and her gaze flashed to his. "Oh, yes."

  Grinning, he pushed the ring onto her finger. Her hands slid up his chest and wrapped around his neck. Tears rolled down her cheeks unheeded, and he pressed his forehead to hers.

  "I love you, medicine man," she said softly.

  He grinned, wide and filled with happiness. "I love you, Angel."

  Then suddenly, he grabbed her tighter, tipping his head back to let out a rebel yell as he lifted her off the floor and turned her in a quick circle.

  She laughed tearfully, clinging to him, loving the feel of him in her arms again and never wanting to let go.

  Then he crushed her mouth beneath his and crushed her body against his own, feeling her mold to him, fill the spaces like she filled the emptiness in his soul. Her fingers threaded through his hair, and he moaned over the simple pleasure of her touch and rejoiced at what the next sixty or seventy years would bring to him.

  To a man who had nothing and now had it all.

  A shaky voice peeled into the soundproof booth. "Ah, Angela, Miss Justice. Help. The phone lines are all lit."

  Ignoring the voice, Lucas gazed down at her, brushing her hair from her face, absorbing her beauty, the love he could feel radiating from her and into him. He felt complete, home at last.

  His life, he thought, would only get better.

  "Miss Justice?" her young producer squeaked.

  "Take a message," she said, gazing into Luc's ice-blue eyes and knowing without a shred of doubt that the lonely, dangerous boy she'd met years ago was gone, his secret fears dissolving, and in her arms was a man ready to embrace the future, share a love they both knew would last their lifetime and beyond.

  * * *

  Epilogue

  « ^

  Ten years later

  "Go, Lucas! Go!" Angela yelled as her husband took third base and raced for home plate.

  "Gosh, Mom, could you be any louder?"

  Angela looked at her oldest son, Nick, grinning. "Yup." She looked at home plate in time to see Lucas slide the last few yards and touch the base. She cheered, doing the happy dance for the man she loved.

  And she hoped he hadn't broken something doing that.

  Her son rolled his eyes and shrank in his seat. Angela laughed and bent to kiss the top of his head. "I hope all your friends are watching."

  Nick groaned and looked at his grandfather. "Was she always like this?"

  Evan grinned and rubbed the boy's shoulder, his granddaughter on his lap. "Yes, son, sorry."

  Nick fought a smile.

  "You know," Evan said, "your mom plays ball better than your dad."

  "No way." The boy looked horrified.

  She looked at her son. "Who do you think taught him?" she said, then winked.

  Nick looked skeptical, then gave in. His mom wasn't exactly normal. There wasn't much she couldn't do or wouldn't try, and Nick smiled at that. He did have the best mom in town. "How come you never told?"

  "A gal's got to have some secrets. Right, girls?" Her daughters smiled at her, then Bridget made a prissy face at her older brother. Caroline copied her, as usual.

  "Come on. Let's congratulate your dad," Angela said, making her way among the moving people. Angela flew down the steps and slammed into him.

  He groaned at the impact.

  "Hurting?" she said for his ears alone, then kissed him quickly.

  "A little." He wrapped his arm around her waist and walked with her toward the stands. "Good grief, I'm too old for this." He pushed off his ball cap and ruffled his damp hair.

  "I know something you'll never be too old for," she said with a sly look.

  "Oh, yeah?"

  "Yeah, you do look terribly sexy in that uniform." He grinned and kissed her deeply, a little more slowly.

  She eased back, breathless, then glanced at the stands. "Now buck up. Your son t
hinks you're a god and I'm nothing short of a loud embarrassing female."

  Lucas frowned, then glanced at his son coming toward them. "Guess we need to have a little chat?"

  "Nah, he'll get over it. It's a testosterone thing. He's half child, half teen and wants to be a man."

  "Lord, I'm glad you're a psychologist."

  She winked at him. "I do have my moments."

  "More than moments, darlin'," Lucas said, and his hand slipped discreetly lower on her hip.

  She nudged him. "Save that till after the hot shower and half a pound of Ben-Gay you're gonna be begging for later."

  "I don't beg."

  "Wanna bet?" she said, wiggling her eyebrows and reminding him of the last time they'd managed to get a few private moments alone.

  Despite his exhaustion, the memory made him hard. "You're gonna beg this time."

  "Talk, talk, talk," she said and backed out of the way as their children raced toward them.

  Lucas's heart lifted as his son skipped to a stop, his sisters trailing at a dainty speed.

  "Not bad, Dad," Nick said, taking his father's cap and glove. "Nice base hit."

  "Thanks, son." Lucas closed his arm around his boy's shoulder, smiling. "Your game's on Wednesday, right?"

  Nick nodded.

  "Then this weekend we'll have to practice your swing, what do you say?"

  "Great!" The boy grinned, thoughts of hitting one out of the ballpark for his father running through his mind.

  Lucas ruffled his hair and smiled, thinking about how much fun it was being a dad.

  Then he let his wife and son go as his daughters scrambled to be the first to greet him. Scooping them up, he planted a sweaty kiss on their cheeks and laughed when they made faces and rubbed it off. He tried to look offended. But they just giggled, and he put them down.

  Their three children scampered ahead to join their cousins. As he and Angela approached the stands, he let his gaze wander over the people making their way down the bleachers. And he realized the stands were filled with his family.

  Only his family.

  "What's so amusing?" Angela asked when she saw that odd smile.