An Officer, a Baby and a Bride

by Tracy Madison

  Rebecca looked at him, this man she loved, who made her heart pound and her soul hunger and her body melt. A man she was considering changing every aspect of her life in order to be with. And as she stared at this man, at Seth, two more important facts materialized.

  The first of which was the plain and simple truth that he had lost his mind. The second was that she was going to strangle him. Seriously, God help her, strangle him.

  “Don’t you dare,” she whispered. “Don’t you dare leave me here, alone, while you go for a jog through the freaking park to get the car. I would rather walk…crawl…slither behind you than be left sitting here on a bench while this baby is set on being born.” One breath in, another out. “And I’ll have you know that this, Seth, this is a very bad idea. Why, you—”

  His lips landed on hers in a hard, fast kiss. “You’re right, sweetheart. Message received.” Seth hefted her up, first to her feet, and then back into the safety of his arms. “I’m a Class A idiot for even suggesting something so ludicrous. I won’t leave your side for a minute.”

  “That’s better,” she murmured, curling into his chest, feeling one hundred percent more secure. “I didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but honestly, what were you thinking?”

  “I’m not sure,” he said as he took off in a fast walk. “But it’s a wonderful thing that you can think so logically at a time like this. Why, without you, I’d be a total mess.”

  “Are you being sarcastic?” she asked suspiciously. “Because—” A tight, heavy force descended, hardening her stomach and spreading through her back. “Go faster,” she begged. “This isn’t the time for dawdling.”

  “See, darlin’?” Seth’s arms closed in protectively as he picked up speed. “Without advice like that, I might have stopped for coffee.”

  * * *

  Seth leaned against the wall outside of Rebecca’s hospital room, gave in to his liquid knees and slid down until his rear met the floor. Everything had happened so fast. When they arrived at the hospital last night, he’d been positive their baby was on her way into the world.

  And, okay, she absolutely had been.

  But a quick conference with Rebecca’s doctor highlighted the risks for a late preterm baby. While the risks were low, an infant’s lungs weren’t fully developed at thirty-six weeks gestation. The baby would have less fat than at full-term, possibly making it difficult for her to stay warm. She also might struggle with breast- or bottle-feeding.

  Since Rebecca’s amniotic sac hadn’t ruptured, and every day they could hold off birth meant more time for the baby’s lungs to mature, the doctor’s advice was to attempt halting labor. It hadn’t been hard to agree. Because, frankly, Seth didn’t care about how low the damn risk was…if they could make that risk lower, he was all for it.

  This was his child. And nothing mattered more than giving her the best possible start in the world. The doctor immediately started the meds via Rebecca’s IV. Within an hour, the contractions had significantly slowed. Within three, they’d stopped. Somewhere around the five-hour mark, Rebecca had fallen asleep.

  For a long while, Seth couldn’t force himself to move away from Rebecca’s side. So he stayed in the room, listened to his daughter’s soft, rhythmic, reassuring heartbeat through the fetal monitor and watched over Rebecca while she slept.

  That had lasted several hours. Until, seemingly out of nowhere, everything closed in on him fast. The panic and fear and worry. The frustration of not being in control, of not being able to do a damn thing but wait, pooled in his gut and blazed through his veins. His muscles ached with the pain of it, his body shook from the shock of it and damn if he wasn’t afraid he might just puke all of that negative, useless emotion out in an embarrassing display of weakness.

  So he’d stalked the hospital hallways, looked at the newborns through the viewing window and paced some more. Now, burned out and a good dozen steps beyond exhausted, Seth sat on the floor outside of Rebecca’s room, and wondered what the hell he was going to do.

  In the crux of a situation, his decision had been to take the road with the least amount of risk possible for someone he loved. For the first damn time, he really understood Rebecca’s side of things. And while he would never agree that keeping him out of his child’s life was a good decision, he clearly saw what had motivated her to make the attempt.

  He’d already forgiven her. This understanding should have set him completely free. Instead, it had tied him up in hard, impenetrable knots.

  Because while he’d started thinking about changing his life for Rebecca, he’d held on to his hope that she’d change hers for him. Maybe he even thought she owed that to him, for what she’d tried to do. But dammit, he couldn’t feel that way now because he understood.

  His original ten-year commitment with the Air Force expired in about three months. What Rebecca didn’t know, what he hadn’t told her, was that as early as mid-September, he could be free and clear of the risk that so frightened her.

  Or he could stay on for pretty much as long as he liked. Or he could follow through on what his plan had always been, the plan he still wanted to put into motion: take the pilot bonus, which would give him a nice chunk of change for an additional five-year commitment to continue doing what he was meant to do. So, yeah, he had choices.

  He had the power to give Rebecca what she wanted. Probably, Seth admitted to himself, the same exact choice his family would prefer. But the dark truth lurking in Seth’s soul was that he wanted it all: the woman, the child and the career he loved.

  Which sort of made him a selfish bastard, didn’t it?

  Chapter Eleven

  Thursday afternoon found Rebecca propped up in her bed with a pile of magazines on her left, a stack of baby books on her right, a whistle—yes, an actual bring-to-your-lips-and-blow whistle—and her cell phone in easy reach. Honestly, she was surprised Seth hadn’t given her a walkie-talkie and a bell—no, make that a horn—as well.

  She’d been home for slightly over forty-eight hours, and in that time, Seth hadn’t relaxed once. Heck, as far as she knew, he hadn’t slept, either. Mostly, he hovered and paced.

  Right now, pacing seemed to be his activity of choice.

  With a noiseless sigh, she watched him—his spine ramrod straight, his shoulders stiff, and his jaw hard—stride from one bedroom wall to the other. Back and forth he went, moving fast enough that his faded jeans and cotton T-shirt were a blur of soft blue and smoky gray.

  Not an altogether bad way to pass the time, seeing how Seth was very nice to look at, especially in jeans and a T-shirt that hugged his form in all the right ways. But the severe, intense nature of his nonstop motion was beginning to wear on her.

  Every time she attempted to discuss anything remotely serious, he cut her off and changed the subject. Probably to keep her stress level low, as the doctor had instructed. Unfortunately, the longer this continued, the more stressed Rebecca became.

  She wanted her Seth back, so they could work through this together as a team. She also wanted to continue their conversation from Saturday night, maybe even begin to discuss ways they might be able to blend their lives. Well, if he still wanted to. Regardless, none of this would happen while he viewed her as an invalid who required coddling.

  Cuddling, on the other hand, she’d be good with. Great, even.

  Except… Well, there wasn’t much of that happening, either. From the moment she woke up in the hospital on Sunday, he’d only touched her when necessary. And yeah, she supposed that was wearing on her as much as the other. Maybe more.

  Seth came to a sudden halt in front of her closet and stood there for a second as if contemplating his next action. Whipping open the door, he dragged out her overnight bag, which was now packed and ready to go. That was the first task he’d taken on Tuesday, after ascertaining Rebecca hadn’t gone into labor during the slow journey hom
e from the hospital.

  The man had driven as if he’d had a pile of C-4 in the trunk of his car. Whenever the tires rolled over a bump, he’d squeeze the steering wheel hard enough to whiten his knuckles.

  She watched him then as she did now: in curious silence. Unzipping the bag, he took a quick inventory before stomping to her dresser, where he shoved a pair of socks in with the other packed clothing and supplies. Okay, he wanted her feet to stay warm. That was nice.

  Heaving a breath, Seth zipped the bag and twisted to face her with an expression of pure, stubborn determination. A small muscle tensed, and then flicked, in his jaw. Oh, dear.

  “What are you doing, Seth?” she asked, although she sensed she already knew.

  “I’m returning you to the hospital,” was his gruff, no-nonsense reply.

  “I am not a defective blender,” she pointed out, going for light and teasing. “And sorry, but you can’t trade me in for another model.”

  “This isn’t a joke, Rebecca. You belong in the hospital.”

  “If that was the case, the doctor wouldn’t have sent me home.” Not only a perfectly valid argument, but the absolute truth. “I haven’t had a single contraction.”

  His eyebrows drew together to form a dark, grim line. “You’re on bed rest.”

  “As you are aware, I am not on complete bed rest,” Rebecca said primly, knowing if she didn’t get through to him, she would, indeed, be on her way to the hospital. “I’m allowed limited walking, bathroom breaks and showers. This is more like taking it easy!”

  In two days, Rebecca would reach their first goal of thirty-seven weeks. In nine days, she’d hit the thirty-eight week mark, which was their ultimate goal. Of course, Seth left Portland in seven days, so between him and the baby, she had plenty of days to fixate on.

  “Any type of bed rest proves there is reason for concern.” Seth resumed his pacing, causing her overnight bag to slap against his denim-covered thigh in soft thumps. “To my frame of mind, that means you should still be in the damn hospital!”

  “Your frame of mind is wrong. Sweet, but wrong.” She took a deep, fortifying breath. “Concern isn’t cause and until there is cause, I’m not going to the hospital. So you might as well stop your pacing and put my bag back in the closet.”

  His entire body jerked to a stop. “Rebecca,” he said, his voice somehow soft and dangerous all at once. “I don’t like this.”

  “That makes two of us,” she said. “This wasn’t my plan.”

  “Maybe not, but this is the reality of the situation.” He turned then, to look at her, and the weight of responsibility hung fiercely in his gaze. “Anything could happen at any second.”

  And didn’t those words sound familiar? “True, but at the moment, I’m fine. Let’s not borrow trouble.” Desperate to distract Seth, to lighten the tension bobbing between them, she reached for the baby-name book. “Come sit with me and help me find a name. Please?”

  “Anything can happen,” he repeated, not to be deterred. “And when something does happen, my strong preference is to be at the hospital. Where there are doctors and nurses and fetal monitors! I would very much like to go there now, Rebecca.”

  “No, thank you,” she said as sweetly as possible. “I’m happy being home.”

  His jaw hardened another fraction. “I don’t know how to deliver a baby.”

  “You won’t have to deliver our baby.”

  A calculating gleam entered his eyes. “Tapioca pudding! You loved the pudding there,” Seth coaxed in a voice that in no way mirrored his oh-so-severe expression. “Said it reminded you of being in your grandmother’s kitchen when you were little. Remember?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “If you’ll stop being so contrary,” he said, taking one long step forward, “I’ll make sure you have as much of that pudding as you want.”

  “You’re adorable.” And cute, thinking pudding would be enough to sway her. “But I can wait for the tapioca until I actually need to go to the hospital. If you like, though, you go on ahead.” For the hell of it, she batted her eyelashes. “I’ll let you know when I’m on my way.”

  “That isn’t funny,” he all but snapped.

  “Oh, come on. It’s a little funny.”

  “Rebecca,” he said, scrubbing his free hand over his face.

  “Yes, Seth?”

  “You’re being obstinate and willful, and I am taking you to the hospital.”

  He came toward her, and being well-aware of how easily and speedily he could lift her in his arms, she did the only thing that occurred to her. She grabbed the whistle and blew three times in quick, ear-blasting succession.

  That, she was relieved to see, stopped him in his tracks.

  “I think,” she said calmly, “it’s time for us to talk.”

  “Are you in labor?” he demanded.

  “Nope,” she said, still aiming for calm and sweet, even though that whole want-to-strangle-him sensation was coming over her again. “Zero contractions.”

  “You blew the whistle. I told you to blow the whistle only if you were in labor.”

  Had he? “I’m sorry, but this was an emergency. I had to get your attention before you tucked me away in your car for another long, slow drive to a place I don’t need to be just yet.” Because he looked so darn worried, she added, “I promise you I am not in labor.”

  “Uh-huh. You weren’t aware you were in labor the last time, or have you forgotten that?”

  “I haven’t forgotten. But now, I know what to expect.” Frustration started a low burn deep in her belly. “Maybe you shouldn’t be the person to stay with me. Maybe we should call my mom or Jocelyn, and you should go back to your parents’ house.”

  Crap. The second Rebecca said the words, she wished she could take them back.

  “I see.” Heavy lines creased Seth’s forehead and his shoulders slumped forward. Letting go of the overnight bag, he sat in the chair he’d put by her bed. “Do you want me to leave?”

  No. Never. “If the next seven days are going to be a repeat of the past two, then yes.”

  Confusion clouded his features. “All I’m trying to do here is take care of you.”

  “I know. And I love y—” She clamped her jaw shut even as her cheeks grew hot at what she’d almost revealed. “I love that you want to take care of me. But Seth, you’re either hovering or pacing or asking if I’ve had any contractions. This morning, you stood inches from the curtain while I showered, and the one time I suggested going downstairs to the sofa, you said—”

  “That you were on ‘bed rest’ not ‘sofa rest.’ I’m…hell.” He shook his head in dismay. “I’ve been mother-henning you to death, haven’t I?”

  “My mother could learn from you, and that’s saying something.”

  “I’m sorry.” Seth cracked a small smile. “It isn’t easy for me to admit that I can’t fix this situation. I…feel like my hands are tied behind my back and all I can do is wait and hope.”

  “I’m doing the same.” Thank goodness they were finally talking about this. “It’s my body that decided to go into labor four weeks early. I can’t change any of this, yet I feel…responsible. I keep wondering if this is somehow my fault. If, maybe, you think it might be my fault, too.”

  “Not even once.” Seth swore under his breath. “I…ah…asked the doctor if sex could’ve brought on labor. She said it was possible, so perhaps this is my fault. If so, I’m real sorry.”

  “Wow. Your male ego hasn’t suffered any, that’s for sure.” At his blank look, Rebecca cleared her throat—loudly—and sat up straighter, ready to do battle. “You believe that every time we’ve had sex, it was all your doing? Because I don’t remember it that way. I remember leading you up here more than once.”

  “Well, yeah, but—”

  �
�There is no ‘but’ about it. Geez, Seth. I was a very willing participant.” Rebecca arched an eyebrow at Seth. “I’m sure my doctor also told you that sex is fine throughout a normal pregnancy, which mine had been in every way until Saturday.”

  “She might have mentioned something along those lines.” His gaze, steady and sure, met hers. Held hers. And damn if every inch of her skin didn’t tingle from a mere look. “Becca,” he said, in more a breath of air than anything truly audible.

  And yet, she heard him. “Yes?”

  “If I’m making this more difficult for you, I’ll leave. No questions asked.”

  Bye bye, tingles. “If you want to leave,” she forced herself to say, “you should.”

  “No. But I want to make your life easier. Not harder.”

  “You do, you are.” Thank you, thank you, thank you. “If you could relax—” Rebecca squeezed her thumb and forefinger together “—just a little, then I’d be able to relax a little, too. So, less hovering and pacing. Less staring at me like I’m a bomb about to explode. And no more demands to rush me to the hospital when there isn’t a reason.”

  “Yes, yes, yes and…no. I can’t promise that one,” he said somewhat sheepishly. “If I have reason to believe there’s a reason even if you say different, I’m not wasting a second. We won’t go through that again. Not on my watch.”

  Delicious humor bubbled inside. “You really don’t want to deliver this baby, huh?”

  “I really, really don’t.” Tension seeped out of him, to be replaced by a teasing grin. He waggled his eyebrows at her. “What do you say, do we have a deal?”

  Biting back a laugh, she nodded. “I say yes.”

  “Whew.” Seth wiped the back of his hand across his forehead in an exaggerated motion. “Now,” he said with a nod toward the baby-name book, “Let’s find our daughter’s name.”