Decidedly With Baby

by Stina Lindenblatt

  Except the nightmare had it all wrong.

  Because I would’ve rather stood in my lacy black panties and bra in front of my peers than where I was currently sitting.

  “You’re pregnant,” the woman in the white doctor’s coat repeated after I didn’t respond the first time.

  Those two simple words were like lead cannonballs bouncing around in my stomach. I was going to be sick. As in, puking-out-my-guts sick. I eyed the trashcan, making sure it was within easy reach.

  Dr. Sinclair studied me for a moment, possibly waiting for me to come out of my comatose state. After I’d decided five days ago the pregnancy test was indeed faulty, Erin had insisted I double-check with my physician. Better to be safe than sorry.

  Of course, if I had done a better job being safe, I wouldn’t be sitting on the examining table feeling like I was standing in front of an execution squad. But unlike in the nightmare, there were no black lacy bra and panties involved.

  My gaze dropped to the file in her hand. “Is there a chance the results are wrong?”

  “There’s no doubt about it, Holly. You’re pregnant.” She wheeled the stool closer to me and sat on it. “I take it this wasn’t a planned pregnancy?”

  I snorted a laugh. “It wasn’t even planned sex. It just kind of happened.” At least that had been the case the first time. Not so much while Josh and I were in Australia. And ever since then, my body had been whining about how much it craved an encore with Josh. All right, make that five or six hundred encores.

  That was why I had agreed to go out with Brad the other night. How did it go?

  Not bad at first. He picked me up at my apartment and took me to a restaurant. Nothing fancy, but it was still a nice place. Things had gone well at first—until something suddenly hit me. No, I don’t mean literally. Although a concussion might have gotten me out of the date sooner. It was just that Brad had been talking non-stop for the past fifteen minutes, and I had no idea what he was saying. I’d been smiling and nodding, but my mind had been somewhere else. Or more specifically, it had been thinking about how much fun I’d had with Josh in Australia—and I didn’t just mean the sex.

  Not once did Brad realize I wasn’t even listening to him.

  That was the first problem. The second one?

  I was so aroused thinking about Josh, I had an even tougher time paying attention to Brad after that.

  Okay, I know what you’re thinking. I was on a date with a good-looking guy and was super-aroused (even if it was because my thoughts were focused on the wrong guy), so I must have had sex. You would think so, right?

  Wrong. My body threatened retaliation if I even considered having sex with Brad. Or more specifically, it threatened no more orgasms ever again—which when I thought about it, that pretty much summed up the one time I’d had sex with Brad.

  And since I loved orgasms, I took the threat very seriously. But did that really matter? No—because I’d already decided there would be no second date this time around with Brad.

  Which was probably just as well. What guy wanted to go out with a pregnant woman when the baby wasn’t his?

  “You do have options,” Dr. Sinclair said, tone non-judgmental.

  I did have options—I knew that. Choices I had to make for myself even though it took two to make a baby.

  Some people would say that Josh had as much right as I did when it came to deciding the baby’s fate. Others would claim it was my body, my decision.

  But given I knew Josh’s view on him having kids, the final decision was mine. The question was, if I decided not to terminate the pregnancy, would I be able to hand the baby off to another woman to raise?

  If I had been an unwed teen, the question would’ve been easier to answer. But I was twenty-eight years old with a great-paying job. And how would my colleagues react to me going through nine months of pregnancy only to give away the baby in the end?

  Did it even matter what they thought?

  An image flashed in my mind of a little girl, smiling as we played on the beach together, searching for shells. A little girl who loved me unconditionally, the same way I loved her.

  And I knew in that instant, while I might not have wanted kids, there was only one option that was right for me.

  My hand went protectively to my stomach. “I’m going to keep it.”

  It didn’t matter if the baby was a girl or a boy, I wanted this baby—even if I had to go it alone.

  Even if I had no clue what I was doing.

  “All right then,” Dr. Sinclair said. “Based on my calculations of your last menstrual cycle”—which I had roughly figured out at Erin’s insistence—“that puts you in your eleventh, almost twelfth week.”

  Eleventh. Twelfth. Those were numbers. If there was one thing I understood, it was numbers. “What does that mean?”

  “It means you’re almost finished your first trimester. Second trimester begins at thirteen weeks.” Her smile was warm and reassuring—like a teddy bear to a young child. “Do you want to hear the baby’s heartbeat?”

  “Really? You can hear that now?”

  Her smile widened at the awe in my voice. “Yes, you can.”

  She helped me lie back on the exam table, adjusted my top to reveal my still-flat stomach, and squirted the cool gel onto my skin. She then moved a weird instrument around, searching…searching…searching.

  “That’s my baby?” I asked once she had stopped moving the device at what sounded like a small panting puppy.

  “Yes, it is.” Dr. Sinclair put the instrument away and wiped the gel from my stomach with a wad of tissues.

  I really was having a baby. A pooping, crying, keep-you-up-all-night baby. A baby who would change my world.

  The tears? Totally your imagination.

  I blinked them away.

  But for the first time since Erin suggested I might be pregnant, I no longer wanted to hide in an ocean of denial.

  “I hope you don’t take it the wrong way, Holly, but do you know who the father is?”

  I nodded. Shit. What was I going to tell Josh?

  Or maybe I didn’t have to tell him anything.

  Yes, because he’ll never notice you’re pregnant.

  Although given we hadn’t seen each other since returning from Australia, there was a good chance he would never know.

  Unless Kelsey told Trent.

  And Trent told Josh.

  Maybe I could bribe them to not say anything to him. I could bake them cookies. Who didn’t like cookies?

  But he has the right to know, the know-it-all voice pointed out.

  Sure, he had the right to know, but that didn’t mean he wanted to know. By not telling him, I was doing him a favor.

  The voice cackled. Yeah, you keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night.

  “It’s not my place to tell you what to do, but I do recommend telling the father,” Dr. Sinclair said as if privy to the debate in my head.

  After giving me samples of prenatal vitamins, a bunch of instructions on being pregnant, and follow up appointments for a physical and an ultrasound, I was sent on my merry way.

  As I entered the busy waiting room, a nurse called the next patient’s name. A pregnant woman pushed herself up from her chair. The man with her smiled at her like she was his world. It was the same smile that she wore on her face.

  My heart sighed a Wouldn’t-that-be-wonderful? sigh, while my hand settled on my stomach as if to block the baby’s view. He or she didn’t need to see what they were missing out on.

  Oh, wait, could babies even see yet? What about hear? Ask me how to calculate derivatives for a company and I could show you. But I couldn’t tell you anything about having a baby.

  Ignoring the pregnant couples in the room, I left to go on my first post-denial mission—to hit the bookstore. Once there, I wandered up and down the aisles, searching for what I needed.

  At one point, I stumbled across the baby section, with onesies, baby blankets, and stuffed animals. Not
quite what I was looking for.

  A small floppy bear on the shelf caught my attention. It wasn’t a koala, but it was still adorable. It was the perfect present for the baby—to show him or her how much they were loved from the very beginning. I might’ve had no idea what I was doing when it came to being a mother, but I did know that much about this baby.

  Taking the bear with me, I continued searching for the section I sorely needed. I eventually found it—and my eyes almost popped out of my head at the sheer number of books dealing with the topic of pregnancy and babies. Oh, boy.

  Not knowing where to start or what was good, I randomly pulled out a book. What To Expect When You Are Expecting. Wasn’t that a movie?

  I mentally added it to my list of movies to watch. Maybe it would be helpful.

  Or not.

  I found a few more books that looked interesting. Books about being pregnant and books about raising a healthy baby. If I was going to do this, I would do it right.

  Turning around, I walked into a solid wall of male muscle that hadn’t been there before.

  At the familiar deep and sinful male voice saying, “Hey,” I let out a startled shriek as the books and bear fell from my arms.

  12

  Josh

  What’s the last thing I expected to see when I entered the bookstore? That’s right. Holly.

  The same luscious redhead who had been starring in my fantasies ever since we’d returned from Sydney. The same luscious redhead I thought about every time I jacked off in the shower—more so than before we’d had sex together for the first time.

  The other thing I hadn’t expected? To find her in the parenting section. And while we were at it—having her shriek and drop a pile of books on my foot definitely hadn’t made it onto my to-do list for today.

  So I think we can agree I was surprised by the turn of events—even before what was about to happen.

  Have you ever watched a horror movie? You know the part where you were certain something bad was about to happen? Hell, even the character who was about to die recognized something bad was about to happen. Her eyes were wide, her face pale, and if she found her voice, screaming would be her top priority. It was that moment just before the character decided running might be a good idea. Preferably away from the evil presence.

  Now you know Holly’s expression exactly.

  Instead of picking up the books, she just continued staring at me. O-kay. I crouched down and gathered them up—along with the stuffed bear she had also dropped.

  Pregnancy and baby books? Huh?

  Maybe they were for Trent’s sister, Erin. But while I could understand the baby books, the pregnancy books didn’t make sense since the baby was due in a few weeks. Wasn’t it a little late to begin reading up on the topic?

  Or maybe it had nothing to do with Erin. Maybe Kelsey was pregnant. The corner of my mouth jerked up to one side. Way to go, Trent, on knocking up your girlfriend.

  Although I was a bit surprised Holly knew and I didn’t. But then Trent was a guy, and he probably didn’t feel the need to tell me about it yet.

  Remember the part about the character in the horror movie finally deciding that running might be a good idea? Well, when I stood back up, that was the look Holly was now sporting.

  I handed the books back to her. “Hey, how’s it going?” I asked, suddenly realizing how much I’d missed her. Wow. Where did that come from? I wasn’t even talking about the sex—although it had been pretty spectacular.

  No, I meant she was fun to hang out with.

  Not all women could claim that.

  “Hey, handsome,” Maria said, sashaying up to us like a runway model. Which wasn’t too surprising given she used to be one. “Did you find anything you like?” The Portuguese accent? Yes, it was hot, but not as hot as Holly’s Aussie accent.

  Maria glanced between Holly and me. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

  “Not at all,” I said. “Holly, this is Maria, my teammate Adam Bennett’s fiancée.” To Maria, I said, “Holly’s a friend of mine.” True—even if I hadn’t seen her since Australia.

  “It’s Adam’s birthday this weekend, and Josh is helping me with his present,” Maria explained to Holly. “But because my favorite author’s new book came out today, I asked Josh if we could come here first.” She held the book up for Holly to see. On the cover was a picture of a man wearing only jeans and a cowboy hat, the woman’s legs hiked around his waist.

  And instantly my mind snapped to a memory of me holding Holly the same way, except we had both been naked at the time.

  Don’t go there, you idiot. Holly and I had been nothing more than a short-term fling. A short-term fling that had left my body thirsty for more. A more that my random hookups over the past two months hadn’t been able to quench.

  Not that there had been that many. For some reason, ever since returning home, they hadn’t held the same appeal they used to. And because of that, their frequency had taken a nose dive.

  Maria glanced at the books and bear cradled in Holly’s arm. “Oooh, are you going to have a baby?”

  I had expected Holly to say they were for a friend. My expectation was met by a panicked silence—and my belief that Trent and Kelsey were expecting a baby dove headfirst through the store window.

  Holly was the one who was pregnant, which meant she was seeing someone.

  Not that it mattered, I told myself.

  “Congratulations.” That sounded genuine, right? It didn’t sound like I was surprised? Which I was. The last I’d heard, she didn’t even want kids.

  “Thank you,” Holly said softly.

  “I so love babies,” Maria gushed. “When is yours due?”

  “February twenty-third.” Holly’s gaze was focused on something over Maria’s shoulder, and I was almost tempted to turn and see what it was.

  Maria giggled. “Well, it’s a good thing the father isn’t a hockey player.”

  Holly’s gaze shot back to Maria, the horror-movie expression having returned. “Why’s that?”

  “Because chances are good he won’t be around when the baby is born,” Maria said. “He’ll be away on a road trip with his team. It’s a hazard of the sport.” Yet it hadn’t stopped her from saying yes when Bennett proposed to her a few months ago.

  Music played from Maria’s purse. She reached in and answered her phone. “Hey, babe,” she said, walking away from us.

  “So…” I began to say. But what the heck did you say to the woman whose memory you jacked off to in the shower—only to discover she was carrying another man’s child?

  I paused, thinking of the right topic for this situation.

  And drew a blank.

  “Trent never mentioned you’re seeing anyone,” I said.

  She clutched the books and bear against her chest. “I’m not.”

  Eyebrow raised, I gestured at her perfectly flat stomach. “So, it was an immaculate conception?”

  “No, there was definitely a man there.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It’s your baby, Josh.”

  Of all the things she could have told me, that wasn’t on my list of possibilities.

  Not even close.

  Holy. Shit.

  13

  Holly

  Josh stared at me as if I’d announced I was going to give birth to a three-headed monster. His three-headed monster.

  Alrighty.

  Guess that answered my question.

  “Are you sure it’s mine?” he asked.

  Guys, let me do you a favor right here and give you two hints for if you’re ever caught in the same situation.

  One—girls are a hormonal mess when pregnant. We’re fragile. Our emotions are fragile.

  But we can still kick major arse.

  Two—never ask us if we’re sure you’re the father. I mean, if we have the reputation of enjoying sex with numerous partners during the time we had sex with you, then by all means question the child’s paternity.

  But ot
her times…

  “Given you’re the only man I’ve slept with in ten months—yes, you’re the father. Or maybe it really was an immaculate conception. If that’s the case, Ryan Reynolds might be the father.”

  In case you were wondering, I was wearing stilettos. The perfect arse-kicking accessory.

  Although at the moment, I was torn between kicking his arse or bailing—and introducing Junior to the joys of ice cream.

  A big tub of ice cream.

  With french fries.

  “But you can’t be pregnant,” he said, frowning. “We used condoms.”

  Denial was a bitch. I should know.

  Girls, let me take this opportunity to remind you, once again, to make sure your birth control hasn’t expired. I still had no idea if the protection malfunction was due to human error or due to the expiry date being past due.

  Either way, it was clear how this would all play out.

  Junior and I would be going it alone.

  But that was okay. I could do this. I was a smart and independent woman. Go me!

  “Condoms aren’t one hundred percent fail-safe. It says so on the box.” My hand instinctively went to my stomach, maybe to keep Junior from hearing this conversation. No need for him or her to feel unloved from the get-go.

  “Sorry about that,” Maria’s exotic accent said as she re-joined us, clearly failing to notice the tension that had sprung up between Josh and me. “Are you ready, Josh?” She held up a store bag, indicating she had already paid for her book.

  Stepping away from the pair, I said, “It was nice meeting you, Maria.” Were you impressed at how fast I could run in stilettos?

  Josh didn’t come after me. And no, that didn’t surprise me. There was a better chance of Ryan Reynolds entering the store to declare his undying love for me than there was of Josh chasing me down.

  As I passed the display of DVDs on the way to the cashier, one caught my attention. A pregnant woman in exercise gear was on the cover, glowing and looking relaxed and happy. Yoga for pregnancy. Yoga was supposed to reduce stress. If there was one thing I needed more than anything else right now, it was stress relief. Ice cream and fries only went so far.