An Officer, a Baby and a Bride

by Tracy Madison

  She jerked open her mouth, but nothing—not even the sound of her sobs—came out. With heavy, tear-soaked blinks she fought for words but seemed unable to find them. This was ridiculous. Nothing was worth this type of misery. Seth went to her, pulled her to him and held her as tight as he could without crushing her.

  “It’s okay, baby. It’s fine. I don’t need to know this,” he whispered while rubbing her back in long, firm strokes. “I will never bring this topic up again. I promise. Just please, please stop crying. You’re killing me here, sweetheart.”

  Rebecca pushed her head into his chest and sobbed so hard that her shoulders shook and her body trembled. Her fingers grasped on to his arms, digging in, as if she were drowning and he was her life preserver. But the sobs kept on coming.

  Seth’s bag of tricks was sadly lacking in the how-to-help-a-crying-woman department, and the only things he knew to do were the things he was already doing. He continued to hold her. He kept murmuring that everything was okay. That she was okay, and that he was right here with her for as long as she wanted him.

  But he felt useless and scared. Crying with such strength, such ferocity, for so long couldn’t be good for Rebecca, for their baby.

  Desperate, Seth started whispering bits of silliness in her ear. Anything that popped into his head was fair game. Most of what he said were obscure little facts he’d somehow learned over the years. Not a lick of it held any true importance, but slowly and surely, Rebecca’s body quieted and her sobs lessened.

  Still, he held her tight. He’d be content to hold her all night and into tomorrow if she needed him to, if she’d allow it. The truth of the matter was he’d be content to sit right here and hold her for weeks, months…years, if doing so were possible.

  But he wanted her happy and calm. He wanted her smiling and laughing. But more than anything else, he wanted her to be those things with him. The real truth he’d been avoiding crashed in. Yes, he wanted to marry Rebecca. Yes, he wanted his daughter to know him. And yes, he wanted the three of them to be a family.

  At the bottom of all of those wants, or perhaps entwined with them, was the fact that he loved Rebecca. Intensely. Passionately. With all of his heart. He’d known his feelings when he returned to duty in October, but hadn’t been prepared to confront them. He’d known he loved her when she stopped corresponding, but figured they didn’t have a future, so tried to forget. And yeah, he’d known the second she opened her door eight days ago.

  Admitting to himself that he loved a woman who would try to keep his child from him had seemed crazy and impossible. But now, with that same woman curled up in his arms, with her tears on his shirt, he couldn’t deny what was true any longer. A weight lifted, freeing him to do what he couldn’t do—what he couldn’t say—before.

  “I forgive you,” he said softly, quietly, unsure if she was even awake, but needing to say what was in his heart. “I forgive you, Rebecca. And…and I need you to know that I—”

  “Jesse is dead,” Rebecca said into Seth’s chest. “He was killed by friendly fire during his first tour. We were barely engaged and he was gone. That’s why I haven’t talked about him.”

  “Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.” Again, Seth wished for the power to absorb Rebecca’s pain. “I can’t imagine how horrible that was for you.”

  Sliding out of his arms, she dried her swollen eyes and wiped her tear-slicked cheeks. “Thank you,” she said in her prim and proper way. “But I don’t think you understand.”

  “I understand you lost someone you loved.”

  “Yes…but Jesse loved his job. He was committed to his job.” Rebecca took in one deep breath, and then another. “And he died doing his job.”

  “I wish that hadn’t happened. I wish I could somehow change this for you.” Seth captured Rebecca’s hand in his and considered what he should say. Jesse had chosen to serve his country, knowing the risks going in. Seth had made that same choice. But he didn’t think Rebecca needed to hear any of that in this moment. “Do you want to talk about what happened to Jesse, or how you feel about it, or…?”

  “I don’t think you understand,” Rebecca repeated, her voice thick and unsteady. “I loved Jesse. He was the man I planned on spending the rest of my life with.”

  “I see.” Seth fought to read between her words, because she was right—he was missing something. “Are you trying to say that you still feel committed to Jesse?”

  “No.”

  “Then?”

  “Jesse was in the Army. Jesse died while in the Army. And you’re—”

  “In the Air Force,” Seth said as full comprehension hit. “So you think—”

  “You’re too much of a risk. For me and for our daughter. Next time—” she gulped for air “—you go away, you might not come back. You might leave and never come back.”

  “So you thought it better that my child never know me, that I never know her?” He spoke slowly, trying to put himself in Rebecca’s shoes. “In order to protect her?”

  Rebecca pulled her hand free. “Not only her, but me, too. Don’t you see, Seth? I could love you, if I let myself. Our daughter will love you. And what happens when you…when something happens to you? I can’t go through that loss again. And I’m sorry, but yes, I wanted to protect our daughter from the pain of knowing and loving her father, and then losing him.”

  “If something happens to me, not when. And most of what I do isn’t—”

  “You’re right. Of course, you’re right. But I don’t want to gamble on an if.”

  “I could also trip and bang my head. Or become ill. Or a dozen other possibilities. You could, as well,” Seth pointed out, hoping she’d see what he was getting at. “Waking up in the morning and leaving your house is a risk.”

  “Yes, but none of that is the same as purposely putting yourself in the path of danger.” Rebecca averted her gaze. “I can’t keep our daughter away from you or your family. She’s tied to you in a way that can’t be changed, and I was wrong to…to ignore that connection.”

  “I’m glad you’ve reached that conclusion, but sweetheart, my job—”

  “But I can’t fall for you.” Rebecca faced him, her beautiful eyes filling with fresh tears. “Life is about learning from our mistakes, and I can’t make the same mistake twice. I…I won’t.”

  There were a dozen valid arguments on Seth’s tongue, begging to be said. But he had a feeling Rebecca wouldn’t really hear his words, or the truth behind them, in this particular moment. She was tired and upset. She needed to rest. Her health was his priority.

  The rest would be there to deal with another day.

  He whispered a kiss across Rebecca’s forehead. “You must be ready for bed.”

  “You don’t want to argue with me?”

  “There isn’t anything to argue about. You’ve explained your feelings and I understand them.” As he spoke, he tucked one arm under her legs and braced the other behind her back. “To my mind, our next course of action should be getting some sleep.”

  Relief eased the tightness of her expression. “I think that’s a good idea.” He stood, picking her up with him. Her body tensed even as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “What are you doing? I’m not…I don’t think we should…”

  “Shh,” he murmured. “I’m taking you upstairs. Then, I’m getting you some water. Once I know you’re settled, I’ll lock up and leave.”

  She nodded and cradled her head on his shoulder, apparently too tired to put up a fuss. Tightening his hold, Seth climbed the stairs slowly so he wouldn’t jar her. The warmth of her body pressed against his, the softness of her hair brushing his jaw, and the sound of her breathing raised every one of his protective instincts.

  The rightness of the moment didn’t escape him. He was supposed to be with this woman. Of that, he was sure. But he was also supposed to return to McChord
AFB, to his duty, in two and a half weeks. That also felt right. Of that, he was also sure. Both seemed as essential as air for his existence. Was he going to have to choose? Maybe.

  In Rebecca’s bedroom, he set her down carefully on the bed. She gave him a sleepy sort of smile that turned him inside out.

  “Thank you for taking care of me. I’d say you went above and beyond tonight.”

  “I’ll always take care of you. If you’ll let me.” Her face paled and he wanted to kick himself. “Because… Well, you’re the mother of my baby. Your well-being is essential to her well-being. So…um…I’ll just get that water for you.”

  He took his time to give her the necessary time to change and ready herself for bed. When he returned, Rebecca’s eyelids were drooping and her entire body radiated exhaustion. Sitting next to her, he offered her the glass.

  Their gazes met and held while she drank. The want to crawl in next to her and fall asleep with her in his arms came on strong. Naturally, he ignored the want.

  “Get some rest, sweetheart.” Seth put the half-empty glass on her bedside table. “Do you need anything else before I head out?”

  She shook her head no and slid deeper into the bed coverings. Her eyes closed. He waited a beat before standing. As he let himself out of her room, she whispered, “I wanted to hear your voice tonight. I missed your voice. I…missed you.”

  “I missed you, too.” He paused, hoping she’d say more, but she didn’t. The soft, even sound of her breathing clued him in that she’d fallen asleep. Turning off the overhead light, he closed the door. And stood there for a full minute listening, waiting…protecting what was his.

  Downstairs, he cleaned up the dishes, wiped off the counters and started the dishwasher. He fiddled with her magazines and throw pillows until everything looked the way she liked it. By then, it was nearly two in the morning, and he decided that returning to his parents’ house was senseless. Why leave when he’d have to be back here by six to drive Rebecca to work?

  Pleased with the idea, in the logic of staying, he locked the front door, kicked off his shoes and stretched out on the sofa. Sleep didn’t come easily, but being here, being close to Rebecca felt right. Almost like…home.

  He supposed he’d have to give that some thought, as well.

  Chapter Eight

  Rebecca woke with the glare of brilliant sunlight beaming on her face. Yawning, she carefully rolled to her side and stretched her legs, readying herself for the monumental task of standing up. It would hurt at first, as the full weight of the baby pushed down on her hips. Her body would adjust, she knew, and the twinge of pain would disappear soon enough.

  But heavens, she hated each morning’s initial impact.

  She swung her legs to the side of the bed, inhaled deeply and stood. There it was; that sudden, pulsating ache that flared from her hips to the small of her back to the tops of her thighs. Silently counting to ten, she waited for the worst of it to fade.

  Once it had, she chose her work clothes for the day: a maternity knee-length black skirt, white button-down blouse and a black jacket that mimicked her before-pregnancy attire. She put the clothes on the bed, stopping to squint at the overly bright sunlight dappling across the floor. Too bright for six in the morning. And…she’d awakened on her own.

  Why hadn’t her alarm gone off? Oh. With the late hour and the emotional conversation—confrontation?—with Seth, she’d forgotten to set it. She never forgot and she never woke up late.

  “Crap, crap, crap,” she muttered, twisting her neck to see the clock. Ten-thirty? How was that possible? She hadn’t slept that many straight hours in months. And she apparently slept deeply enough to miss Seth knocking on her door when he came to pick her up.

  Unless he hadn’t bothered to show. A definite possibility considering her inappropriate behavior and the over-the-top display of her emotional breakdown.

  Stop, she told herself. She didn’t have time to stress over Seth.

  Rebecca looked at the clock again. She looked at her work clothes. She thought about rushing through her shower, drying and styling her hair, applying cosmetics, fighting with her stupid maternity pantyhose, getting dressed and driving to work. She considered the work waiting for her, the meeting she was supposed to have with Alan after lunch, and…

  It was such a beautiful day outside. How nice would it be to grab one of her baby books and sit on her back porch with her feet up? Maybe even think about what happened with Seth. Maybe even think about what she felt for Seth.

  But she should go to work. People were counting on her and she needed to continue impressing the partners. Not going would be wrong and lazy and could possibly hurt her in the long run. Responsible adults didn’t play hooky. They…they…

  “Screw it,” she said in a loud and clear voice. “For once, I choose lazy.”

  Before she could talk herself out of her decision, she phoned the office and tried to come up with a plausible lie. No, she’d be honest. Hadn’t Alan just about ordered her to take time off?

  Five minutes later, Rebecca hung up the phone in a state of shocked confusion. Seth had already called her office to tell them she wouldn’t be in. She sat on the edge of the bed, on top of her perfectly pressed skirt, and considered how she felt about that.

  Probably, she should be ticked. She had a future at this firm, and Seth took it upon himself to make a decision he had no right to make. It wasn’t anger heating her blood, it was…

  “Your daddy decided we should have a day off,” she said as her daughter landed a series of solid kicks somewhere in the region of Rebecca’s rib cage. Smiling, she rubbed the moving mountain that was now her stomach. “What do you think, kiddo? Should I be happy?”

  She received a pelvic head-butt, almost painful in its accuracy, as a response.

  “I’m taking that as a yes,” Rebecca decided. “Because I refuse to waste a free day by being upset. We’ll relax until our appointment this afternoon. How does that sound?”

  Within thirty minutes, a freshly showered and barefoot Rebecca descended the stairs. She hadn’t bothered drying her hair, and she wasn’t wearing one speck of makeup. Heck, she’d considered leaving her bra off…but in her current state, that seemed a little too free for her comfort level. A fact that relieved her greatly when she entered the kitchen and found Seth.

  He stood at the stove with his back toward her, stirring something with a wooden spoon, and whistling a tune she didn’t recognize. Yesterday’s clothes—blue jeans and an untucked, wrinkled shirt—and bare feet told her that he’d stayed the night. Probably, she should be bothered by that. But gracious, the man looked good standing in her kitchen.

  So she stayed put and sniffed the air experimentally. Cinnamon and spice. A pitcher of orange juice and a glass half-filled with the same sat on the counter, along with a mug of coffee. Another pot on the stove began to boil over, and Seth muttered a curse as he brought the pot to the sink. He saw her then, watching him, and a slow curl of heat began in the pit of her stomach.

  No man should have eyes like Seth’s. They were hooded and dark, making it difficult to read his thoughts, sinful in their sexuality and heartbreakingly beautiful to look into.

  She hoped their daughter had his eyes.

  He kept those eyes on her as he poured the water from the pot, as he removed the eggs and plopped them in a bowl filled with ice water to cool. And her entire body shivered with the need to go to him, to pull him to her for a kiss like she had last night.

  “You called my office and told them I wouldn’t be in.” Rebecca forced her mouth into a scowl and planted her hands on her hips. “And you stayed the night without my permission.”

  “Guilty as charged.” His back to her once again, Seth turned off the stove and moved the remaining pot to a cool burner. “I also made you hard-boiled eggs and oatmeal with a little cinnamo
n, some brown sugar. Why don’t you settle yourself somewhere and we’ll eat?”

  “Seth,” she said, working hard to keep the ice in her voice. “Look at me.”

  He did. His brows quirked in question, his mouth in teasing humor. “Are you set on punishing me, then? For making a few decisions without your input?”

  The swirl of heat in her belly magnified, liquefied and all but whooshed through her blood. “You called my office,” she repeated, “stayed the night and made me breakfast. And you want to know if I’m set on punishing you?”

  “I did and I do.”

  His words, the very look and sound of him, sent Rebecca spiraling back in time. To another morning they stood here, in this kitchen, barefoot and hungry, laughing and kissing and touching as they threw together a quick meal of scrambled eggs and buttered toast.

  Food they’d barely consumed before they returned to her bedroom. Rebecca hadn’t been herself that weekend. She’d been a freer, happier, far more sexually aware version of herself. She discovered she wanted to be that woman again.

  Going for sultry, she winked and said, “What type of punishment would you suggest?”

  Stark, hungry desire darkened his eyes, deepened his voice. “Well, now. That’s a good question.” He took a step toward her, stopped. “No games, Rebecca. I—”

  “I’m not playing.” Her heart leaped as she made the claim. “My question is more along the lines if you still find me desirable.”

  He came to her then and cupped her face in his hands. His lips pressed against hers in a searching type of a kiss, soft and gentle in its exploration but insistent in his intent. He tasted of orange-spiced coffee, hot and sweet and tangy all at once. She drank in this taste, the feel of him, of his mouth against hers, and hers against his.

  And she reveled in how such a simple action—the meeting of lips—could numb her rational brain into submission while every one of her physical senses exploded to life. She felt everything: the bristly roughness of Seth’s unshaven jaw, the firm press of his hands on her face, the rocklike hardness of his muscular body, and the heat crackling and popping between them.