His Baby Bombshell

by Jessica Matthews

  "Where? Where I belong?" she asked, certain he would have finished with those words if he hadn't stopped himself.

  He didn't answer.

  As much as she wanted to argue, to remind him that she wanted to help him fight his demons, she'd plainly lost the battle before it had begun. Struggling with her own disappointment, she said, "OK, I'll leave you, then. Before I do, though, why don't you give yourself a break to shower and shave? I know you don't want to leave Clay by himself, so I'll sit with him in the meantime."

  He hesitated, and she guessed why.

  "Nothing will happen while you're gone," she told him. "I'll watch out for him."

  For an instant his hesitation was obvious, but then he shook his head. "I'm staying."

  For a long moment, she watched and waited, trying to sound calm when her emotions whirled like a tornado. "Why are you shutting me out, Adrian?"

  "I'm not," he denied.

  "You are," she insisted.

  "Clay's my responsibility, not yours."

  "I'm trying to help you help Clay. I'm not trying to take your place."

  He fell silent.

  Wondering how she would break through his hard-headedness, she gave a final argument.

  "According to you, your father showed his love by the things he did for his family. You've obviously learned from his example because I've seen you do kind, thoughtful things for the people who mean a lot to you. So I don't understand why you won't allow anyone to support you in the same way."

  To her disappointment, he didn't answer. "You're right. There isn't any reason for me to stay. I don't belong here."

  He swiped his face tiredly. "You should be with Jeremy."

  "Yes, I should be," she snapped. "He appreciates having me around all the time, not just when it's convenient. I'm curious, though. If I'd accepted your proposal, where would my place be today? Here with you, or at home, out of the way?"

  She turned on one sandal and made a beeline for the door, but before she could pull it open, his hand held it shut.

  "Clay's my brother," he said simply. "I have to be here. You don't."

  "You're wrong, Adrian. It isn't about 'have to's.' It's about 'want to's.' Our place is together, but if you can't see that, then you deserve to hold your lonely vigil. Just don't expect me to welcome you back with open arms. In fact, don't expect me to welcome you at all, and I don't care how many times you're hit by a golf ball!"

  Yanking at the handle, she broke his hold, then slipped into the hallway. Luckily, she didn't run into anyone she knew on her way to the elevator. Adrian McReynolds had driven her to tears in front of her colleagues before. He wouldn't do it again.

  She punched the "down" button, overwhelmed by the sense of déjà vu. Once again, he'd rejected her, but she'd finally learned her lesson. As much as she'd admired him for his devotion to his family, it was obvious she'd always play second fiddle.

  OK, so maybe she was being somewhat selfish, but she liked to think they'd handle family problems—or any problem for that matter—as a team, not as "his" or "hers". He obviously didn't hold the same philosophy but she wouldn't have it any other way.

  The elevator arrived, then descended floor by agonizing floor. Chafing at the delay when she'd hoped for a quick exit, she blinked away the tears burning in her eyes. Now wasn't the time to feel the hurt—that would come later and in private. Right now anger propelled her forward and stopped her from falling on the floor and wailing like a two-year-old.

  If Adrian wanted to shoulder his burdens by himself from now until eternity, he could do so with her blessing.

  * * *

  Ever since Marcy's phone call, Adrian had been racked by guilt for not recognizing Clay's symptoms. However, that black cloud was nothing compared to what he was feeling now.

  "Idiot." Clay's weak voice broke through Adrian's misery. "You're an absolute, certifiable idiot."

  Adrian privately agreed.

  "You had a good thing and let it slip through your hands again." Clay rubbed his eyes. "For a man who always told us to learn from our mistakes, you don't follow your own advice."

  He struggled to raise himself, but Adrian intervened. "What are you doing?"

  "Trying to get up so I can punch your lights out," Clay retorted, although his shakiness contradicted his threat.

  "Settle down. I got the message." Adrian gently pushed his brother onto his pillows and checked the IV lines to confirm Clay hadn't unseated them. "I assume you heard?"

  "Enough to know my supposedly intelligent brother cornered the market on stupidity and insensitivity."

  "OK, OK," Adrian said impatiently. "I got your point."

  "Why do you keep pushing Sabrina away?" Clay's gaze narrowed. "What would have been wrong with letting her sit here while you cleaned up? Frankly, brother, you look worse than I feel."

  "Gee, thanks."

  "Honestly, I don't know why you think I need you to hold my hand."

  "It's what Mom and Dad would have done."

  "So you still intend to take their place until we're both gumming our food?" Clay muttered a harsh expletive. "Dammit, Adrian, I didn't ask you to sit beside me when I wrecked my cycle. I didn't ask you to come running now. I appreciate your time and concern, but you don't have to be here."

  Adrian winced. "You heard that?"

  "And a whole lot more. What I'm trying to say is I'll always need my big brother, but not in the way I did when I was eight years old. Your responsibilities have changed. Marcy and Susan and I shouldn't take first place. Sabrina and your son belong there."

  For the last twenty-four hours Adrian had been struggling with how to juggle his responsibilities toward his old family with those of his new one, but now, losing Sabrina was more than he could bear.

  "You know," Clay said kindly, as if their brotherly hierarchy were reversed, "Dad may have asked you to look after us, but he wouldn't have wanted you to stop living your own life."

  Clearly he had gotten stuck in his surrogate father role. One thing was certain—if he'd been torn up by their separation before, he wouldn't survive it now.

  Only a few minutes had passed; Sabrina couldn't have gotten far. He jumped to his feet and headed toward the hallway. "I have to catch her before she leaves."

  "Don't come back unless she's with you," Clay called after him.

  Adrian bolted for the elevator, but the display showed it had stopped on the second floor. He couldn't wait for it to meander back to the seventh. He sprinted for the stairs and flew down the twisting and turning steps as if he was running for his life.

  Maybe he was.

  He had to get to Sabrina before she drove away.

  He burst onto the main floor, struggling for breath as he scanned the lobby for her brightly colored dress.

  There she was, several feet from the front entrance! He sprinted forward, calling her name.

  She paused to listen, but as he yelled her name again, she ignored him and went on.

  He skirted several people in his race to intercept her before she reached the door. A heartbeat later, he grabbed her arm. "Sabrina, wait."

  She stopped and stared coldly at him. "Let go of my arm or I can guarantee we'll both be on the evening news. You, Dr McReynolds, will be a public relations nightmare for Mercy Memorial."

  He held on. "Please, wait. I have to talk to you. Explain."

  "What's to explain? You don't want me sharing this part of your life, so I won't. I'm going home to my son, where I belong. By the way, don't worry about your things. They'll be waiting on the front lawn for you when you get back, so you'd better pray it won't rain in the meantime.

  "Oh, and my attorney will be in touch with a visitation schedule. I'll warn you it won't be generous."

  Adrian moved quickly to stand in front of her. "Don't go. Please."

  She gave a most unladylike snort. "Why shouldn't I?"

  "Because I love you."

  Her eyes suddenly glistened, but she rapidly blinked away the moisture. "No, you d
on't. If you loved someone, you wouldn't hold a part of yourself back and you wouldn't push the other person away."

  "I'm sorry."

  "I'm sure you are. Now, either turn me loose or I'll scream."

  He held on, his steely-eyed gaze unwavering as he met hers, hoping she'd see what lay in his heart.

  Ready to follow through on her threat, Sabrina opened her mouth to draw in a breath, but before her lungs filled to capacity, his mouth covered hers in a hard, bruising kiss.

  She resisted at first, then, too emotionally drained to protest, gave up. Attune to her surrender, he gentled himself, kissing her until she began kissing him back. Oh, how she hated her weakness where Adrian McReynolds was concerned.

  "Oh, get a room," a blue-haired lady snapped as she walked by. "This is a hospital, not a seedy hotel."

  A seedy hotel? The words snapped Sabrina out of her haze and she began to giggle, more as result of her conflicting emotions than from any humor.

  "Come on." Adrian pulled her over to a cozy visitors' nook and guided her into an overstuffed chair. After she was settled, he perched on the edge of a solid walnut coffee table.

  She wondered if he realized how he'd placed himself at her feet, then decided it didn't matter. "You're wasting your time, Adrian. I don't have the fortitude to go through this time after time. I'm saying enough."

  "I want to tell you a story."

  Crossing her arms petulantly, she snapped, "I don't want to hear it."

  "I want to begin on a day about seventeen years ago," he continued as if she hadn't spoken. "A week before my eighteenth birthday."

  She tapped her foot. "This has nothing to do with—"

  "Bear with me, Bree. My parents and I had gone to a used-car lot to shop for a car for me. On the way home, I was driving. The driver of a cattle truck ran a red light and hit us. I'd swerved, but I wasn't fast enough. The passenger side of the vehicle was crushed. Mom was killed instantly."

  He'd drawn her into his story and she could only gasp and keep listening. "I'm so sorry. You never told me the details."

  "It was too painful, so I didn't. And I didn't get more than a few scratches and bruises. Someone called an ambulance and the fire department used the Jaws of Life to cut my dad out of the wreckage. I talked to him the whole time, holding his hand and begging him to hang on.

  "He knew he wasn't in good shape. He made me promise to look after my sisters and Clay, no matter what. I did. I would have promised him whatever he'd asked for because I felt responsible. If I hadn't been so eager to buy that car, we wouldn't have been at that intersection. Maybe if my dad had been driving, he could have avoided the crash. Because of all that, I robbed my little brother and younger sisters of their parents."

  "You never told me. You should have," she gently accused.

  "Probably, but I don't talk about it. It brings up bad memories and old feelings I'd like to forget."

  She leaned forward. "But the accident wasn't your fault. You didn't run that stoplight. And who knows if your father could have swerved in time? Maybe if he had, you would have been killed. You just don't know and you can't blame yourself for events outside your control."

  "Maybe not, but since then I've taken my responsibilities toward my family seriously. When Clay got the idea to buy a motorcycle, he asked me for the money. He'd been scrimping for a long time, but he'd only saved half the amount. Then he found a used cycle advertised in the paper. It was such a good deal, he hated to pass it up. And I hated to see him spend more money for the identical thing, so I gave in and loaned him the balance.

  "A few weeks later, he had the accident. Naturally, I felt guilty and was angry at myself for going against my better judgement. I'd failed him once, you see, and I was determined to work with him twenty-four seven if that's what it took to help him walk again. So I broke off things with you."

  "And you did it again today," she reminded him. "Don't tell me you're holding yourself responsible for his peritonitis."

  "I am the doctor in the family. I should have sensed something was seriously wrong with my brother."

  "Adrian." She took his hand. "When you were a kid, did you have accidents or illnesses?"

  He stared at her. "You have to ask? Of course I did. Who doesn't? I fell out of a tree and gashed my chin. It took ten stitches to close it. I broke my arm one summer playing football and broke off several teeth when I took a header into home plate during baseball season. I also had my tonsils removed because I had frequent sore throats."

  "Did your parents feel guilty because you got hurt or because you needed surgery?"

  "They didn't act like it." Understanding suddenly dawned in his eyes.

  "I think you're trying to fill your parents' shoes and you've lost sight of several facts. One, life happens. We get sick, we need surgery, whatever it might be. Two, Clay and your sisters make their own decisions. They aren't children needing your protection."

  He looked sheepish. "That what Clay said, too."

  "They're adults and all they need is your love and support, which is all Jeremy and I want, too."

  "You'll have it," he promised. "I love you, Bree."

  Hearing the words thrilled her and yet they still had a few more issues to iron out. "Are you sure?"

  "Absolutely. I lived without you for a year and I can't lose you again."

  "Then you can't keep pushing me away, Adrian. Our relationship isn't like golf, where we each play individually. We should function like a football team where we work together. What concerns you concerns me."

  He nodded. "I know I've screwed up twice, but can we try this again?"

  As she gazed into his face, she knew she owed it to herself and to Jeremy to give him another chance. Yes, they could fail, but somehow she sensed they wouldn't.

  "You know what they say." Her voice was filled with emotion. "'Third time's the charm'."

  His smile slowly grew. In a flash he rose, pulled her into his arms and kissed her until her toes curled.

  Finally, he raised his head. "It will be, Bree. It will be."

  EPILOGUE

  Two years later

  "I REALLY think you should rest in the clubhouse," Adrian said as he eased off the brake and headed the golf cart toward the twelfth hole of the Pinehaven Public Golf Course. "You're nine months pregnant and have absolutely no business riding around the links."

  Sabrina rested her hands on her massive tummy and rubbed away another twinge. She'd been having those pains off and on for the last two days but if she'd mentioned them, Adrian would have whisked her to the hospital faster than she could yell "Fore". She wasn't going to be stuck indoors because of Braxton-Hicks' contractions.

  "I need the fresh air," she said instead. "Besides, bumping around in a cart might shake Junior loose. He's obviously forgotten he was supposed to arrive last week."

  "Junior? It's probably a girl and she's late because she's still primping and preening."

  She laughed. "For the record, I do not primp or preen."

  "And Jeremy and I don't forget. We may get sidetracked or postpone things, but we don't forget."

  "I stand corrected."

  "But speaking of getting sidetracked, you're the reason why I'm playing badly today. I'd shoot a better score if I wasn't worrying about you."

  "Excuses, excuses," she teased.

  He swerved to avoid a pothole in the cart path and she grabbed the armrest to hold on. "Sorry," he said.

  Her twinge felt stronger. "You should be," she said. "I think you sent Junior into a somersault."

  "I still think you should be lounging in the clubhouse."

  "And miss all the action?" She shook her head. "Not a chance. I can sit in the cart just as easily as I can sit in a chair."

  "We've seen enough action the last two years," he informed her. "It's always our family who lands in the spotlight. I'm hoping this year's benefit tournament will be different."

  Another twinge. "Keep hoping," she muttered under her breath. "Granted, the first ye
ar was unplanned excitement when I sliced the ball and beaned you. But it turned out well, I'd say." She smiled at him. "We got back together and Pinehaven Health Center recruited its very own full-time emergency services specialist.

  "And you can't complain about last year's events because we planned our wedding in advance," she continued. "No unexpected surprises there." After the final team had completed their eighteen-hole round, Sabrina and Adrian had celebrated their wedding. The ceremony had been a well-kept secret and only a handful of people knew the couple had organized the service to take place after the tournament in the clubhouse where everyone had been invited.

  "I don't want to deliver my own baby on a green," he said as he slowed down and parked near the tee box. "I personally think Kate's lottery is going to jinx us and we won't get to the hospital in time."

  In light of the prominent role Sabrina and Adrian had played in previous tournaments and to generate interest in this year's event, Kate had started taking bets as to the precise hole where Sabrina would go into labor. Tickets were ten dollars each and all proceeds went into the patient benefit fund. Winners would have their pictures taken with the community's newest arrival.

  "I don't believe in jinxes and, besides, the contest is for a good cause." Another cramp hit and she surreptitiously glanced at her watch. They were closer together than she'd thought.

  Adrian drew his driver out of his bag, then joined the rest of his team on the tee box. Sabrina impatiently drummed her fingers on her knee.

  By the time he returned to the cart with a smile on his face for his long drive, she held the armrest in a white-knuckled grip. As soon as the contraction eased, she said, "The twelfth hole is someone's lucky number."

  He stared at her. "What?"

  "We need to head to the hospital."

  "I knew it. I knew it." He hit the accelerator pedal and the cart shot forward, careening along the path until he veered onto the course itself in an obvious attempt to take a shortcut.

  "You can't cut across," she gasped. "You'll tear up the grass."

  "Ask me if I care," he said grimly, gripping the steering-wheel as if he were participating in the Indy 500.