The Night before Baby

by Smith, Karen Rose

  He realized he’d pushed as far as he could. Too much persuasion might make her feel coerced. “You don’t usually act on impulse, do you?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “What happened on Christmas Eve?”

  Though her cheeks flushed, she didn’t avoid his gaze. “I don’t know. I’ve never done anything that impulsive in my life. I always look at the repercussions. I never intended to have sex before I was married. It was a vow I made to myself a long time ago.”

  Her answer surprised him. He didn’t think women in this day and age believed in abstinence before marriage any more than men. “Why?”

  “Because making love is important and special and should go along with commitment.”

  He couldn’t decide whether Olivia was simply inexperienced or naive.

  “You’re looking at me as if I’m from another planet.”

  “I’m just wondering if you see the world the way it is or the way you want it to be,” he concluded gruffly.

  “Both.”

  “So you admit you’re an idealist?”

  “Oh, Lucas. If I don’t have an ideal, what can I strive for?”

  The way she said his name rippled through him in a manner as arousing as her touch. The more he knew about her, the more desire flamed higher, unsettling him. “I strive for what’s attainable. I know the difference between what I can grasp and what I can’t. I know what’s real. This baby and the desire between us are real.” After a pause when he knew they were both thinking about the reality of becoming parents, he pulled another tool from his repertoire. When negotiations stall, make a reasonable request. “Why don’t you come over to my place after work? Look around. See if you’d be comfortable there.”

  She studied him for a long moment, and he wished he could read her mind.

  “All right,” she said softly. “I’ll come over after work. To look.”

  He might be a master negotiator, but he had the feeling that Olivia would only do what was right for her, no matter how skillful he was at persuasion.

  As Olivia followed the directions Lucas had given her through Scottsdale, she passed hotels, resorts and streets lined with boutiques, galleries and restaurants. Even at dusk, she was amazed at how green the landscape appeared here, although the city sat in the middle of the Sonoran Desert. Golf courses abounded along with several parks. She headed north toward the McDowell Mountains and as darkness suddenly wrapped around her, she easily found the planned neighborhood where Lucas lived.

  Stopping at the gatehouse of Desert Vista, she gave her name. The security guard motioned her toward multilevel residences. Red-tile roofs glowed under the lighting that was subtle rather than intrusive. The white exteriors took on a mellow glow as palm trees as well as pines sheltered curving pathways leading to Mediterranean-style buildings. After she parked where Lucas had suggested, she walked beneath private terraces and under an arch that led into a courtyard. Finding his town house number, she climbed the steps and rang the bell.

  He opened the door to her. “C’mon in.”

  She’d never seen him in casual clothes. He was wearing an off-white knit shirt and khaki slacks. His moccasins and lack of socks added to his relaxed appearance. The excitement she always felt when she looked at him seemed heightened by the fact that she was crossing the threshold into his home.

  The vaulted ceiling with its fan drew her attention to a two-bedroom loft. As she pulled her gaze from the upstairs and thoughts of what could happen there, she concentrated on the adobe fireplace, a long contemporary sofa upholstered in earth tones and spruce, a complementary high-armed, oversize, almost square chair. The distressed pine coffee table, entertainment center and occasional tables accented the elegant but relaxed decor.

  “I’ll give you a tour,” he offered, his smile making her stomach flip-flop. As he led her through the dining room with its Santa Fe-style hutch and table for four, she wondered if he entertained often.

  “You have a beautiful place,” she commented when she entered the kitchen with its black appliances and eat-in counter.

  “Wait until you see the view,” he said with a conspiratorial wink. Sliding doors led from the kitchen onto the covered terrace.

  An almost full moon glowed over blue-black mountain tops, and cascades of stars decorated the sky. The temperature was dropping, but she hardly noticed with Lucas standing so close to her, his arm almost grazing hers.

  “There’s a pool and clubhouse with a weight room. And maid service.”

  As she took it all in, doubts still plagued her. “As I said, Lucas, it’s beautiful here. But a pretty view and nice furniture won’t convince me to move in with you.”

  “What will?” he asked, his deep voice intent on convincing her, no matter what it took.

  “I don’t know. I have to think about it more.”

  “You didn’t see the guest room.”

  “I don’t have to see the guest room to know I could live here comfortably.” Matter of fact, going anywhere near that loft with Lucas could give her even more doubts.

  “What’s the problem, Olivia?” he asked, turning and stepping closer.

  “I...I have to make sure moving in would be the best decision.”

  “How will you know unless you try it?”

  She touched her heart with her fingers. “It has to feel right in here.”

  When he reached out, she started to tremble. And as his hand caressed her face...

  “Don’t.” She pulled away, shaken.

  “You didn’t seem to find my touch repulsive on Christmas Eve.” There was anger edging the frustration in his voice.

  “Oh, Lucas. I need to think clearly, and I can’t when we’re too...close.”

  “Is it Whitcomb?” he asked gruffly.

  All of her feelings and thoughts were confused right now. Her life had taken a direction she’d never expected. For the last few months she’d envisioned Stanley in her future. And now...

  “It’s my whole future, Lucas. And yours. And the baby’s. Aren’t you confused? Don’t you feel off balance, like you’ve been thrown the biggest curve of your life?”

  In the shadows of the moon and the kitchen light, his brow creased. “I’ve had lots of curves. This time I know what I want.”

  “Well, I don’t. And I won’t let you push me when I’m not sure. I don’t want to be food for the whispering grapevine. Yet I don’t like secrecy or deception, either. I’ve only known about this baby for two days—” Tears came to her eyes and she blinked them away. She never cried, and she wouldn’t let Lucas Hunter see her doing it now.

  His composure slipped and he grabbed her shoulders. “You’re not thinking of ending the pregnancy?”

  The searing heat of his hands warned her about the passion that had been a stranger to her until Christmas Eve. Even now, she didn’t know it or understand its depth. “Of course not. I would never consider not keeping this child.”

  He looked relieved, then released her. “If you need time to think...think. But as this baby’s father, Olivia, I won’t let you put me off or brush me aside. Understand?”

  It was as if fatherhood were a crusade for Lucas. Was he so vehement because of a well-honed sense of responsibility? She remembered his words. I was born a bastard. Had he never known a father? She needed some breathing space to think about it... to think about him and what living here could mean.

  She replied, “I do understand, Lucas, but I won’t rush into anything, certainly not living with you.” Then she turned away from him and his compelling presence, as well as away from the temptation to see him as more than her baby’s father.

  As Olivia went grocery shopping on Saturday, she stopped in the baby food aisle and studied the different brands, then passed the toothbrushes, imagining hers hanging next to Lucas’s. Her mind spun with thoughts—some pleasant, some overwhelming, some downright frightening. Was she equipped to be a good mother? Did she want to raise a child alone? Could she imagine being a partner to Lucas? Being mor
e?

  The questions raced through her mind all day Saturday, causing another sleepless night through which she prayed for guidance. Going to church on Sunday morning, she asked for a sign and realized she was being foolish. She had gotten herself into this predicament; she couldn’t expect divine intervention to get her out.

  As she prepared herself a late breakfast of pancakes that she suddenly craved, the phone rang. Holding the receiver at her ear while she flipped a cake in the frying pan, she answered, “Hello.”

  “Baby. How are you?”

  “Dad?” She hadn’t heard from her father since last summer. At Christmas she’d hoped he’d call. More than that, she’d hoped he’d spend Christmas with her since her mother had been away. But he hadn’t done either. “Where are you?” she asked as she switched off the burner.

  “L.A. I’m working on a mail-order deal with a company that makes computer supplies. It’s going great. If this goes through, I’ll be a millionaire before I’m fifty-five!”

  That was one of her dad’s favorite lines. Only the age changed. The first time she’d heard it he’d told her he was was going to be a millionaire by age forty-five. She didn’t think he’d ever kept a job longer than a few months. He preferred being an “independent contractor.” That meant he was trying to sell something to someone. But he usually didn’t call unless there was a problem.

  “Are you really okay?”

  There was a pause. “I’m fine. Now tell me what you’ve been doing. Are you a lawyer yet?”

  “Come May, I hope.” That was when she’d receive notification of whether or not she’d passed the bar. It was on the tip of her tongue to reveal she was pregnant. She’d always wanted to pour her heart out to her father, but he moved through life so quickly, she usually didn’t get the chance. “Dad...I...”

  “I called your mother. Invited her out here to go to Disneyland with me.”

  “What did she say?”

  “That she has responsibilities and can’t just take off for a week because I want her to. You know. The old story. I told her if she had spare investment capital, she could get in on the ground floor of this deal, but she wasn’t interested in that, either.”

  “Now that I’m through school, Mom’s saving for retirement.”

  “She wouldn’t have to worry about retirement if she invested with me.”

  Nothing ever changed. Her father was still too selfabsorbed to be concerned with anyone’s life but his own.

  “Matter of fact, if you want to invest—”

  So that’s why he’d called. Because of the deal. “Dad, I’m paying back loans.”

  “Sorry I can’t help with that,” he mumbled. “But in a year or so, I’ll be sitting pretty and can pay for anything you need.”

  “I don’t need anything, Dad.”

  After a few moments, he said, “Well, you could encourage your mother to give my new venture a chance—”

  “Dad, Mom knows what she wants to do.” And putting money into another of her ex-husband’s pipe dreams wasn’t it.

  “Maybe, if you push it a little, she might reconsider.”

  When Olivia kept silent, feeling as if he’d called to use her rather than to ask about her life, he finally mumbled, “I gotta get going.”

  Still wanting contact with him, she said, “If you give me your address—”

  “That will be changing soon. When I move to a bigger place, I’ll give you a call. You take care, baby.”

  When she hung up, she had a hollow feeling inside. The same feeling she always had after she talked to her dad.

  Unbidden, Lucas’s words sounded in her ears. I will be a father to this child. And he or she will be as much my responsibility as yours.

  Her father had never taken responsibility for his marriage or for his family. Would Lucas? What kind of man was Lucas Hunter? What kind of father would he be? She had to find out before she let him into her life, into her child’s life. What better way to get to know him than to live with him?

  He’d said it would be a compatibility test. It would be more than that—she’d discover whether she could trust him and depend on him to be a parent. Because if she couldn’t, she would raise this child alone.

  When Lucas returned from Flagstaff Sunday evening, he was smiling. Spending the weekend at the ranch with Mim, Wyatt and the four boys now under their care always refreshed him. And it wasn’t the difference in temperature or altitude. Those boys looked up to him, and he felt ten feet tall acting as their big brother. After he dropped his duffel bag by the stairway, he saw the blinking light on his answering machine and pushed the button.

  “Lucas. It’s Olivia. Please call me when you get in.”

  It took him a matter of seconds to punch in her number. When she answered, he asked, “Is something wrong?”

  “No. I thought about what we discussed. Moving in with you for a few weeks would be a good idea.”

  “For a few weeks?”

  “Can we just take each day as it comes? We do need to get to know each other better. For the baby’s sake.”

  He realized she was still uncertain about it, and he had to tread carefully. “We’ll take one sunrise at a time. Would you like to come over now?”

  “I did get some things together. But if you just got in...”

  “C’mon over. We’ll get you settled.”

  Lucas couldn’t believe the anticipation he felt as he paced his living room for a while, then finally went outside. He didn’t want Olivia carrying a heavy suitcase.

  The temperature had dropped into the fifties. In a few weeks, spring would bloom here. But not in Flagstaff—that would take longer. There was snow frosting the ground there. He’d flown out before a front moved in that was supposed to bring more snow.

  He’d walked the perimeter of the parking area when he spotted Olivia’s car. As she pulled into one of the guest spaces, he met her at her door. A few minutes later, he carried her garment bag and suitcase up the stairs as she followed with a cosmetics case into the spare room.

  “This is a lovely room,” she said softly as she set the case on the mission-style dresser.

  An interior decorator had furnished his town house. The guest bedroom with its cream and blue spread and drapes had never been slept in.

  “If you need anything, just let me know. There’s a master bath up here, a half bath downstairs. The blue towels are yours.” He opened the bifold doors of her closet and hung the garment bag inside.

  “Lucas, I’d rather not tell anyone yet about the pregnancy or me living here.” After she shrugged off her sweater coat, she laid it across the bedroom chair.

  His gaze locked to hers. “All right. But I’m not ashamed you’re carrying my baby. Eventually everyone will know.”

  “Eventually.” She laid her hand protectively over her stomach.

  In jeans and a soft white sweater, Olivia looked lovely. Her auburn hair framed her face in gentle waves he’d love to run his fingers through. But he was afraid she’d bolt like a frightened colt. She was so slender that as soon as the baby started growing, everyone would know she was pregnant whether she wanted them to or not.

  “What time do you usually turn in?” he asked.

  “Earlier lately. Around ten. But if you don’t mind, I think I’ll take a bath, then go to bed.”

  “I’ll be working downstairs for a while.” Crossing to the door, he stopped. “This might seem awkward now. But we’ll get used to living together.”

  When she gave him an uncertain smile, he closed her door... before he kissed her.

  Olivia awakened at 2:00 a.m. craving something to eat. She didn’t know why she woke up in the middle of the night, hungrier than she’d been all day. But when she did, she gave in and ate, knowing her body was telling her both she and the baby needed sustenance. Pulling on her white-and-green flowered satin robe, she opened the door and saw a small lamp glowing in the living room.

  Glancing across the loft, she noticed Lucas’s door was closed. But i
t had been closed earlier, too. The bare wood floor was cool under her feet as she went down the steps, through the living room and into the kitchen. Lucas was sitting at the counter, still dressed, a laptop computer open in front of him. Just looking at his broad shoulders, the back of his neck and his tawny blond hair gave her insides a funny little lurch.

  “I’m surprised you don’t have an office here,” she said softly.

  He glanced at her over his shoulder. “The long and short of it is that I don’t spend much time here. I can take the laptop with me wherever I go and have everything I need.”

  One thing Olivia had noticed about Lucas’s home was that it didn’t look lived-in. No papers or magazines lying around—no clutter. She always left a tea mug sitting somewhere, or notes from work. And knickknacks that brought back memories were very important to her. Lucas’s table surfaces were clear except for a carefully chosen sculpture or a lamp.

  “You travel a lot, don’t you?” Maybe she could find out where he went on weekends.

  Swiveling around on the rattan-backed wooden stool, he shrugged. “I travel. But mostly when I work, I do it in my office. I’ve spent lots of nights on the couch there.”

  The couch. Soft, supple leather. She could still remember the feel of it against her bare back, the exciting weight of Lucas on top of her....

  His gaze dipped to her satin chemise-gown under her robe, the belt at her waist, her bare legs. The robe and gown suddenly felt very short... very revealing. When he stood, she thought about scurrying back to her room, but she knew if they were going to be housemates, she couldn’t feel self-conscious every time he looked at her.

  With her cheeks hot, she did move away from him toward the refrigerator. “I didn’t mean to bother you. I got hungry, and since that’s a rare occasion these days, I thought it would be good to take advantage of it. Mind if I rummage around your refrigerator?”

  “I don’t mind. But you’re not going to find much. I eat a lot of takeout.”

  Opening the door, she found a half-dozen eggs and a stick of margarine in the door. Two cans of beer, a bottle of juice, a wedge of cheese and two cartons of leftover Chinese takeout sat on the top shelf