by Maisey Yates
He took the card from her and tucked it into his pocket. “I’m not playing one.”
***
Alexa was gone. Which was a little sad, and also a little scary, since, in some ways, her friend had felt like a great source of accountability. Now she was alone with Cole and all the warm feelings he produced in her. And she had no one to remind her why it was a bad idea to act on impulse and do something about them.
Kelsey wandered through the main area of the lodge and sat on an expansive couch by the window. There weren’t any other guests at the ranch, and the house seemed cavernous with so few people in it. She pulled her laptop out of her bag and opened it, waiting for it to wake up. Her column was just as she’d left it. Unfinished and uninspired.
She couldn’t leave it that way. She did still have a job. She took a deep breath and opened a new document. She stared at the blinking cursor for a moment. Better to just start writing and see what came out.
I’m discovering that pregnancy is a series of health challenges.
It was a personal way to construct the article, but maybe she could just be honest for now and edit it later.
On the one hand, you need to eat healthy, as always. Food is fuel, and the better the fuel, the superior the performance of the vehicle; in this case, your body. But I’ve discovered that even healthy food can feel like an enemy when there’s a baby involved. Chicken has always been my go-to lean protein, but until recently, I couldn’t go anywhere near it. And don’t even get me started on salad.
Kelsey heard footsteps and looked up to see Lark standing at the foot of the wooden staircase, frozen with her hand on the rail.
“Sorry,” Lark said, lowering her head, her dark hair shielding her face.
“You’re fine. Come in.” She shut her laptop and put it down on the rough wooden end table. She felt weird extending the offer in the other woman’s house, but she seemed to be the one who felt like an intruder. “I was just sitting here letting my mind go blank,” she lied.
“That never works for me,” Lark said, coming a little further into the room.
“Too much going on in your head, huh?”
“At the very least, I have code running behind my eyelids after staring at the computer all day.”
“I work on the computer too, but I don’t do any kind of programming or web development. Just writing.”
“Sounds fun.”
“Challenging sometimes. I’m a columnist and I always have to have something to say on my given topic . . . even when I don’t.”
“Do you do any social media? Twitter, that kind of thing?”
“I have Twitter linked to my blog.” Her neglected blog.
“I could take a look at it. I’m working on getting the ranch on social media. I think it would be good to get out there, give away some free vacations. That kind of thing. We’re not exactly a hotbed for tourist activity at the moment. Though it’s better in the summer.”
“Well, I’ll be here for a while, so . . . yeah, if you want to take a look at my blog and stuff sometime that would be great.”
Lark cocked her head to the side. “You’re staying longer? I mean, that’s great, but Cole didn’t mention—”
“I just told him this morning.”
“Oh.”
“Alexa left,” she said, saying the words she knew Lark really wanted to hear.
“Oh . . . too bad,” she said, her words completely false. But Kelsey would let her have her pride, and her attempt at civility.
“Yeah, but she had to get back to New York. Work. I’m going to work here for a while. And I already told Cole I’d be happy to mention the ranch in some upcoming columns. I want to talk about the importance of taking time out for yourself.”
“That would be great!” That earned a genuine response from Lark.
“He’s been nice to me. Anything to help out. You’ve all been great.”
“So . . . how exactly do you know Cole? You’re his . . . friend?”
“Um . . . it’s complicated. I mean, it’s not complicated, because we aren’t dating or anything, but . . . Yes. We’re friends.” She could feel her face getting hot, and she could tell, by the skeptical expression on Lark’s face, that she’d been unconvincing.
“Either way, I’m glad you’re staying,” Lark offered. “It’s nice to have another woman around. I’m caught in a wave of testosterone most of the time.”
Kelsey could think of worse fates, especially since her life had been lacking in testosterone until Cole’s arrival. “Well, I’m glad to offer to a feminine ear.”
“I appreciate it. I’d better . . . I have work to do.” She gave a small wave and turned to walk up the stairs. Kelsey put her laptop in her lap again and leaned back, her fingers resting on the keys.
Being pregnant has forced me to reevaluate my idea of what feeling healthy means. Usually, I feel healthy when I exercise. Right now, I feel healthiest when I’m lying down eating chocolate.
Okay, that would have to go. But it was true.
“Working?” She looked up again and her heart climbed into her throat. Cole was standing in the doorway, all lean hips, worn denim and general sexiness.
“Making an attempt,” she said.
“What are you writing about?”
“I’m trying to write about health and pregnancy and realizing it’s really hard to do when you never feel very healthy and you generally want to tear your skin off to try and escape from your personal prison of misery.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Evocative.”
“Dramatic, I know. And I feel just kind of . . . blerg. Not myself, really.”
“Yeah. I know the feeling. At least yours is temporary.”
“Until it gives way to the sleepless nights of parenthood.”
Cole crossed the room and sat next to her on the couch. “You wanted this though, right?”
“I did. I do. I . . . having a baby, the thought of it, makes me feel like everything is coming together. Like I’m finally becoming who I’m supposed to be. I know it’s not what everyone wants, but for me? For me finger-paint art and the sound of little feet pounding down the hall at five a.m.—that’s what I want. But it hits me off and on what a big deal it is. I mean, I made the decision, I’m confident in the decision. But it’s not like getting a puppy, you know? It’s big. And there are a lot of parts of it that are really scary, even though I know I made the right choice.”
“I understand that, and I’m not the one who has to give birth.”
“You won’t really be doing the sleepless nights either. I’ll be breastfeeding”—she was proud of him for not flinching at the statement—“so the baby will have to stay with me all the time.”
He frowned. “I could come over to Portland a couple times a week. Sleep on the couch. Be on hand to . . . change a diaper.”
“That’s silly, Cole, you don’t have to do that.”
“I don’t want you to handle all that alone. You were talking about things hitting you a little at a time, and I’m kind of in the same boat. I keep realizing everything all the little things you’ll have to do on your own. All the things I’ll miss.”
“It wouldn’t matter to a lot of men.”
“I can’t seem to make it not matter to me.”
He looked at her stomach. He did that a lot. “Can I . . . ?” He moved his hand, let his palm hover over her stomach.
She nodded slowly, her heart starting to beat a little faster. He rested his hand on her. “You can kind of feel a bump,” he said.
“Can you?”
“A small one.”
“Maybe that’s normal for me. You never touched my stomach before I was pregnant.”
He laughed. “True.”
“Maybe it will feel more real when I can feel the baby move. Right now I keep expecting to wake up and find none of this is actually real.”
“It was all just a dream,” he said softly, sliding his thumb across her stomach, the little movement sending a flash of sensat
ion through her. Then he shifted his hand, his fingers edging beneath the hem of her shirt. Still just feeling the baby bump. That was all.
But she could hardly breathe, not with him touching her like that. His hand was hot, his skin a little rough, and, it was so wrong, but she wanted him to keep going.
“It would be less complicated,” she said, sounding as dazed and breathless as she felt. “But I think it would break it my heart.”
“Maybe mine too,” he said, his voice soft, reverent. “The idea of being a father is really starting to grow on me.”
“A what?” The words, not said by either of them, were spoken in a shriek, echoing in the empty room.
Their heads snapped up in unison. Lark was standing at the bottom of the stairs again, her computer in her hand.
“What . . . did you hear?” Cole asked, clearly not willing to give up any more than had been overheard.
“She’s pregnant?” Lark’s eyes were comically round. At least, it would have been comical if anything were funny about the situation.
He moved away from Kelsey, his hands sliding to his lap. “Yes,” he said slowly, his eyes trained on Kelsey.
Kelsey shifted, knowing her face was bright pink. It had to be. This wasn’t exactly how she’d seen this going. Actually, she hadn’t seen it going any way because she’d done her best to block out that there would be other people involved in her and Cole’s insane circumstances. It was hard enough with just the two of them.
Lark’s jaw slackened. “Wow.”
“What now?” Cade walked in, trailing mud on the glossy wood floors.
“Get the hell out if you can’t remember to wipe your feet,” Cole said.
“I was practically born in a barn,” Cade said. “Now why are we all looking shocked and awkward? Is this an intervention? Are we finally addressing the amount of time Lark spends in front of a computer?”
“Kelsey’s pregnant,” Lark said.
Cade’s eyebrows shot up. “Okay.”
“Cole’s the father,” she added.
Cole looked at Kelsey. “I think we can leave, since Lark seems to have this covered.”
Lark scowled. “I don’t have it covered. That’s as much as I know. I don’t know why you didn’t tell us you were in a relationship.”
Kelsey felt her face flush all over again. “We’re not.”
Lark’s eyes widened. “Oh.”
“It’s not our business,” Cade said, surprising her with the hardness in his tone. “It’s their business.”
Cole looked at his brother. “Thank you.”
“Now that we know, though, some details would be nice,” he said.
“Not many details to give,” Cole said.
Cole purposed to keep the story vague, because he and Kelsey hadn’t decided exactly what they were going to tell her family. They’d both decided nothing when it came to telling people. Probably because they’d both been avoiding it.
“We met in Portland.” True enough. “And when Kelsey found out she was pregnant, I invited her here to get to know me a little bit better. So we could decide how we’re going to do this. Obviously we were going to tell you. It’s not the easiest secret to keep. But we had a few things to figure out with each other first. And that’s the most important thing for both of you to remember. This is between Kelsey and me, and your opinions don’t come into it. Neither does your judgment, Lark,” he said, giving his sister a pointed look.
“I’m not judging,” she said.
“Yes, you are.”
“Well, you came into my room and threatened to kill a guy you thought might have slept with me. And who, you assumed, had maybe gotten me pregnant or something due to extreme carelessness. So, maybe I’m taken aback by the hypocrisy.” His sister was making broad hand gestures now, her speech getting faster. She was about to go into full drama mode, and he didn’t have the time, or desire, to deal with her.
“I was trying to figure out why you were acting like your heart had been pulled out through your chest,” he said, standing up. “Turned out it was nothing.” She nearly objected to that, but his glare put a stop to it. “Like I said, this has nothing to do with you. For once, Cade is right.”
Cade assessed them both for a moment, his arms folded over his chest. “Congratulations. Guess I’m going to be an uncle. And I’m not the first one to have a child out of wedlock, which I find a bit shocking,” he said.
“No one’s more shocked than I am,” Cole said.
“It wasn’t irresponsibility on Cole’s part,” Kelsey said, her voice muted. “It was the clinic.”
“Clinic?” Cade and Lark spoke in unison.
“Long story,” Kelsey said. “And it contains a lot of my own issues and hang-ups and a very loud biological clock that was ticking in my ear. But skipping to the important part, I decided to have a baby on my own.”
Cole found he wanted to stop her from telling the story. He found that he preferred the assumption that they’d made the baby together. That he’d been involved. Really involved, and not just a contributor of necessary materials. That, and he didn’t really like displaying the evidence of just how much his ex had owned his balls.
He curled his hands into fists and took a long slow breath while Kelsey continued to speak.
“So I went to a fertility clinic to be artificially inseminated. And after a few tries . . . I got pregnant. And then we—well, Cole—found out that there had been a mistake. And his . . . his sperm was used when it wasn’t . . . it wasn’t supposed to be used. So he came to find me and the rest is history.”
Now even Cade was openmouthed.
“That is unsettling,” Cade said finally. “It used to be that a cheap motel and a faulty condom had to be involved in these kinds of surprises. Now it can happen without you even getting off? Well, clearly you got off at some point, but not in the preferred way.”
“Write that one down, Cole. We’ll put it in the baby book,” Kelsey said.
“Well, I’m sorry, but that’s enough to give a man nightmares,” Cade said.
“It’s not like they stole my sperm in the middle of the night,” Cole said. Lark’s face had turned purple and she was biting her lip—likely holding back a scream of mortification. Oh, well, she’d wanted to have the conversation, so she was in it now. “Shawna talked me into banking it. I didn’t want to have kids yet, but she’d done some research about paternal age and she got all shrill about me denying our child their best chance at life by conceiving with potentially old sperm. Yes, her charm went deeper than either of you witnessed. So I did it. For her, because I was trying to make it work. And I preferred not to even remember that I did that for the woman, so I just . . . let it go, paid the bill via auto debit from my account every month and mainly forgot about it. But when I”—he looked at Lark—“when I went to Portland I figured I’d have them get rid of it. Only when I got there, they didn’t have it. Then it turned out it was gone because”—he looked at Kelsey—“it had been used.”
“The man I picked was supposed to be a software developer,” Kelsey said. It was the first he’d heard of that.
Cade laughed. “That’s funny. Cole doesn’t know how to check his email without freezing his computer.”
“That’s not true.” Close, but still.
“I’m good with computers,” Lark said. “So it’s in your baby’s genes. Just . . . if that helps.”
“I’m over the computer thing,” Kelsey said. “But . . . that’s why we said it was complicated. Because we don’t even know each other. We’ve never even . . . Well, that’s too much information. But we haven’t.”
“I’m going to be an aunt!” Lark said, brightening. “I know it’s a crazy circumstance and I know neither of you planned it, but . . . now our family is going to get bigger. We’ve lost so much. So many people. It’s . . . it’s nice to add to the Mitchells instead of taking from them.”
Cole looked at Kelsey. The color had drained slightly from her face, the flush in her cheeks
receding. Now she looked . . . stressed. And a little bit sad. He felt the same way, and he wasn’t really sure why, or what it meant. Only that there was nothing straightforward about the situation. Which, in some ways, made it nice that Lark saw her glimmering positive in the middle of the mess.
Cade was quiet. His reaction had been honest. And appreciated. Even more appreciated was the fact that he wasn’t offering a bunch of congratulations he didn’t mean.
A rare show of perceptiveness from his younger brother.
“You still have to go wipe your boots, moron,” Cole muttered.
Cade offered him a half smile and backtracked to the entryway rug. That was as close to hugging it out as they would get.
“You tired, Kelsey?” he asked.
She nodded, and Cole extended his hand to her. She looked at it for a moment before reaching up and grasping it, allowing him to help her up from her position on the couch.
“I’ll walk you back up to your cabin. And you two—don’t you have work to do?” he asked his siblings.
Lark shook her head, an expression of cheerful oblivion on her face. “I don’t.”
“Then go ogle Tyler,” he said.
She flushed. “Jackass.”
“I love you too,” he said.
She narrowed her eyes, but he could tell her anger wasn’t genuine. Or at least it wasn’t lethal. “See you at dinner,” he said to Lark’s retreating back as she took the stairs two at a time. Back to her room. Back to her computers.
“I’ll see you later,” Cade said. He shook his head as we walked out, muttering something about guarding his sperm.
“Well, that was . . . eventful,” Kelsey said.
“Yeah, I know. That’s my family.”
“My baby’s family,” she said, as if she was just realizing it.
“Yeah,” he said. “Come on, I’ll take you back.”
She nodded, her pale blue eyes wide in her ashen face. He wished he could kiss her. Not just because he thought she was beautiful, and he wanted to. But because he wished there was a more solid connection between them.
