He ought to just ask her, straight out, if she was leaving him. Better to know right away than have the agony linger as it did with his mother, one alcohol-drenched day after the other. But he had only to look at Allie’s determined face to know she wouldn’t answer him.
“At home, then,” he said, trying to push back the desolation inside him.
He took her hand and led her back into the cafeteria. He refused to leave her side for the rest of the evening, too afraid if he let her go physically it would just hasten her eventual desertion. When the children lined up at the end of the party to tell him goodbye, to give him a hug and a thank-you, he watched her out of the corner of his eye, tried to decode the expression on her face.
She seemed so happy when she spoke to the children, so eager to pull them into her arms. What could have made her change her mind about the adoption, about their marriage?
You’ll know soon enough, he told himself grimly. As the room cleared out, foster parents coming to pick up their charges, the TaylorMade staff tidying up and heading home themselves, resignation weighed heavier and heavier on Lucas’s shoulders.
Finally, it was time for him and Allie to leave. Slipping into the restroom, she changed quickly back into the heavy sweater and jeans she’d had on before the party. He held her hand as they walked to the Mercedes, wanting to keep the contact as long as possible. Their unfinished business dangled between them as he drove them home, twisting his gut into knots.
She remained silent as they pulled into the garage, as he helped her from the car, as they entered the house. Tossing his keys onto the breakfast table, he had to grit his teeth to keep from grabbing her shoulders, to shake the words from her.
He stood there in the breakfast room, watching her where she stood just inside the door to the garage, waiting for her cue. She wouldn’t quite meet his gaze.
“Allie…” Her name seemed torn from his lips.
Raising her eyes to his at last, her teeth claimed her bottom lip again. “Lucas…” She glanced away. When she looked at him again, tears glimmered in her eyes. “I’m pregnant, Lucas. I’m going to have your baby.”
Chapter Twelve
He looked like a man who’d been sucker punched. Even knowing in advance how difficult her news would be for him to take, Allie’s stomach churned when she saw his reaction.
He seemed to struggle to breathe. “You’re what?”
She crossed her arms over her middle. “I’m pregnant. With your baby.”
“But how…” He shook his head, as if denying the truth. “It was only one time. You said you were safe.”
Anger bubbled inside her at his accusatory tone. “I thought I was. It was just after my period. I shouldn’t have been fertile.”
He seemed to grow taller in his outrage. “But you damn well were!”
Turning his back, he paced away from her, out of sight into the living room. Shaking herself into action, she followed him. His long legs covered the length of the expansive living room in a few strides before he turned back toward her.
“This changes everything,” he said, a frightening edge to his low voice. He stared down at the carpet, his hands closing into fists. His head swung up. “How the hell do we go through with the adoption if you’re pregnant?”
She moved closer with tentative steps. “We still can, if that’s what you want. But this child…” She touched her belly lightly. “He or she is yours, now. Without any red tape, without any home inspections or county approvals.”
She stopped a few feet from him, tipped her head up to meet his gaze. “You wanted a child, Lucas. We were granted that miracle, in a way we didn’t expect.”
He reached for her, his hands gripping her arms. “But my child, Allie…” Looking away, he dragged a breath into his lungs before turning his intense gray gaze back to her. “My mother died an alcoholic. How do I know I haven’t passed that same nightmare on to my child?”
Raising her hands to his face, she stroked his jaw soothingly. “We don’t know. We can’t. We can only do our best.”
“My best…” His jaw worked. “My best damn well might not be enough.”
“I’ll be here, Lucas,” she assured him. “As long as you want me.”
She couldn’t help herself. As much as she might try to hide it, she knew her love for him shone from her eyes, was written clearly across her face. He must see it.
For a moment, she saw recognition flash across his face, an instant of acceptance. But just as quickly, he denied what he’d seen, closing himself off to the possibility.
“As long as I want you,” he said flatly. “For the child.”
Allie could have wept. Dropping her hands, she looked away. “Yes. For the child.”
“We’ll have to change the marriage agreement.”
At his thoughtful tone, she lifted her gaze back to his. Could it be he wanted to change their temporary arrangement to a permanent one?
With his next statement, he dashed all her hopes. “I assume you’ll want visitation rights.”
He might as well have ripped out her heart. This time she couldn’t keep back the tears. “Of course,” she forced out past a tight throat.
She tried to keep them at bay, but the tears spilled down her cheeks. Swiping at her face, she tried to brush them aside. “Sorry. I guess it’s hormones.”
He reached for her, took her into his arms. “Not your fault. None of this is your fault. I never should have lost control that morning.”
“There were two in that bed. I could have said no.”
He gazed down at her, the expression on his face so tender the tears filled her eyes again. He smoothed them away with the pads of his thumbs. “Don’t cry.” He pressed a kiss on each cheek. “Please don’t.”
Hope, never quite absent from her heart, struggled to life again. The softness in his face, the gentleness of his touch…she’d never seen Lucas so open, so giving. If there was any time to share her feelings with him, this was it.
“Lucas,” she gasped out, then took a breath before she lost her courage. “About the agreement, the marriage.” She swallowed back misgivings, doubts. “We don’t have to separate. We can continue, make it a real marriage.”
His eyes narrowed. “A real marriage?”
“Stay together.” She clutched at his arms, tried to transmit her conviction by the contact. “Make a family, Lucas. You and me and the baby. Be husband and wife for—”
“Forever?” A veil seemed to drop over his face as he tugged his arms from her grasp. “Forever’s a myth, Allie.”
A cold knot gripped her middle. “No.” She shook her head. “It’s not.”
“I suppose you love me.” His hard tone slashed through her like a razor. “That you can’t live without me?”
Yes! she wanted to scream. I love you! But stone by stone, he’d retreated behind his walls again. She knew he would reject her pronouncement, no matter how passionately she stated it.
Stubborn determination settled inside her. “I want to stay married, Lucas. For the baby, for a family—pick the reason you’ll accept. If I say I love you—”
“Don’t,” he rasped out. “I won’t have you telling me that.”
Bleakness settled around her, colder than the tule fog that curled in the darkness outside. “It doesn’t matter,” she said bitterly. “But this baby deserves both a mother and a father.”
“And if we’d adopted?” His gray gaze seemed to pierce her heart, lay her bare. “Would you have walked away?”
Tipping up her chin, she kept her eyes on him. “No. Before now, I might have thought I could, but now I know…I never could have walked away.”
Silence stretched between them, interminable and as sharp-edged as broken glass. When he spoke, his chill tone sent a shudder through her. “This isn’t what we agreed to, Allie.” His fists clenched as if he battled something inside him, an enemy he barely kept at bay. Then he nodded abruptly. “We’ll stay married. As long as you like. As long as you understan
d love has no part in our relationship.”
A sadness swept over her. “But our child…you’ll love our baby, won’t you?”
She expected more anger. Instead he stared at her, stunned. “I don’t think—” He looked out the living-room window as if searching for an answer in the fog-bound night.
“Don’t think?” she prompted quietly.
The confession came out as a raw whisper. “I don’t know how, Allie. I wish I could say I did. I wish I could—” He squeezed his eyes shut, his throat working. “Too many years, Allie. Too much loneliness. I never learned how. Or if I did, life wrenched it out of me.”
Her heart constricted in her chest. “But the child you wanted to adopt…how could you…” How could you dare adopt a child you couldn’t love? The unspoken words hung between them.
His gaze locked with hers, and she saw the agony, the doubts in those turbulent gray eyes. “I thought it wouldn’t matter. That I could give a child other things…food and shelter, the finest education…” He dragged in a breath. “That’s enough, isn’t it?”
His troubled gaze pleaded with her to tell him yes. And perhaps it would be enough if he could be as kind to his son or daughter as he had been to the children tonight. But how could a child thrive without a father’s love?
Uncertainty a weight in her chest, she forced herself to smile up at him. When she gently stroked his rough cheek, the harsh line of his jaw eased, the tension in his brow relaxed. He reached out, curved his hand around the back of her neck.
He rested his brow against hers. “You can love enough for both of us,” he whispered. He kissed her, then moved past her to climb the stairs two at a time.
Her breath hitching on a sob, Allie switched off the lights and followed him up the stairs. In her room, she stood by her bed, one hand caressing her belly. Her gaze fixed on the door leading to the nursery and without thought, she crossed the room to open the door.
Her hand trembled as she turned the knob. She hadn’t stepped into this room since that first day. Now she felt compelled to look inside, as if by seeing it, her baby would become more real, less a dream.
Fumbling for the light, she flipped it on, squinted against the glare. Nothing had changed since she’d last seen the room. The mobile still dangled from the ceiling, the woebegone bear still hunched in a corner of the crib. The drab walls still needed some bright decoration to liven them, something to catch a baby’s eye.
With a sigh, she moved across the room, skimmed her hand across the top of the changing table, let her fingers drift over the smooth wood of the dresser. She noticed the top dresser drawer was slightly ajar and she wondered if Lucas had already started filling it with baby things.
Tugging open the drawer, she peeked inside, expecting to see tiny folded shirts and onesies. But only a rumpled piece of paper lay inside the otherwise empty drawer. She drew it out, realizing an instant before she turned it over what it was.
The picture of Lucas’s mother, the one Teresa had given her, the one Lucas had torn from the Thanksgiving book. He hadn’t thrown it away, had instead tucked it into the baby’s dresser. Had he intended to show it to his child one day, tell him or her, this is your grandmother?
Smoothing the sheet of paper, Allie looked for Lucas in the woman’s face. The gray eyes were familiar, but the smile—Lucas smiled so seldom. His mother had been happy, at least at some time in her life. She’d apparently given so little to Lucas—had she given even a scrap of this happiness to her son?
Carefully setting the paper back inside as she’d found it, Allie closed the drawer and left the room. She’d gotten from Lucas what she’d ached for—a permanent life with him. But could she bear to live that life when the love between them was only from her to him?
She could and she would for their child. Lucas had said she would love their baby enough for both of them; she would have to love Lucas enough for them both, as well. She would always hope that someday, his heart would open to her, but if it never did, she would eke out of their marriage whatever happiness she could.
Undressing quickly for bed, she performed her nightly routine by rote, then crawled tiredly under the covers. With the light off, she lay in the darkness, focusing on the child growing within her.
She barely heard his knock, as if he didn’t want to wake her if she’d already fallen asleep. Flipping the light back on, she called out, “Yes?”
After a moment’s hesitation, he stepped into her room. He wore pajama bottoms, his muscled chest enticing in the dim light. He stared at her in the bed, his gray eyes intense.
“Can I stay with you tonight, Allie?”
That he’d asked, that he waited for her answer meant more to her in that moment than a profession of love. Shifting to one side, she pulled the blankets back for him. “Stay with me,” she murmured.
He switched off the light then climbed in beside her, his warmth a pleasant shock. Pulling her up against him, he buried his face in her hair, brushed his lips across her brow. His arms wrapped around her, he made no move that could be considered sexual. He just held her, his arm draped around her waist, his hand resting lightly on her belly.
She wondered if she would ever understand this man. Drifting off to sleep, the puzzle of him tangled in her dreams, teasing her to solve it.
Allie pulled the Volvo in next to Lucas’s Mercedes in the garage, still warmed by her family’s Christmas-day celebration. Her initial disappointment when Lucas refused to go with her had faded with the first hugs and joyful greetings of her siblings, her nieces and nephews. Now, as she shut off the engine and shut her eyes, she basked in the sweet joy of the day.
With a sigh, she grabbed her purse and the plate of cookies Sherril had insisted she take to Lucas, and climbed from the car. She considered bringing in the presents from her family, as well, then decided they could stay in the trunk until tomorrow. She was eager to see Lucas, anxious to see his reaction to the gift she had tucked away in the fragrant branches of their Christmas tree.
She slipped inside the house, set down purse and cookies on the breakfast-nook table. A plate and glass sat on the kitchen counter by the sink and Allie’s heart ached at the thought of Lucas’s lonely Christmas dinner.
He had insisted a crucial deadline prevented him from joining her at Sherril’s, but Allie understood the real reason. She’d seen the emotions warring in his eyes. Even as he yearned to be part of the festivities, Lucas feared being the outsider, always on the periphery of the loving circle of her family.
So she hadn’t pushed, despite her disappointment. And now she bubbled with excitement, anticipating his pleasure at opening her present to him. She’d picked it up a week ago and it had been all she could do to wait until Christmas day to give it to him.
She peeked into the living room, saw his laptop open on the coffee table, but no Lucas. Taking the stairs two at a time, she checked his bedroom. The bedside lamp illuminated the empty room, the neatly made bed.
Back downstairs, she went through the kitchen, peered out the French doors leading to the back deck. The fog-shrouded moon cast its feeble light on a solitary figure hunched in a redwood chair. Allie stared at him a long moment before hurrying to the living room to pluck a small gold-foil-wrapped box from its hiding place in the tree.
She eased open the French door, the intense winter chill frosting her cheeks. “Lucas?”
She could barely make out his face in the darkness. “Did you have a good time?” His quiet words seemed to drift toward her like the curls of mist on the back lawn.
“It was wonderful.” Crossing the deck, she dragged a chair closer and sat beside him, his gift in her lap. “Sherril and Stephen’s kids performed a Christmas skit that had us all in stitches. Dinner was incredible—I made a complete pig of myself. Then after dinner we got out the old family videos. The kids got such a kick out of seeing the goofy clothes their parents used to wear.”
She took his hand, closed it in both of hers. If only she could transfer her joy of the
day to him with the contact. “I wish you could have been there.”
“It sounds like you enjoyed the day without me.”
Unease rippled through her at the edge to his tone. “It would have been better with you.”
His tension translated itself into the broad hand that nestled between her own. Then he sighed, pulled her hand to his lips, pressed a kiss into her palm. “Damn, I missed you.”
She leaned closer to him, rested her head on his shoulder. Then she remembered his gift. She picked it up, held it out to him. “Merry Christmas.”
Releasing her hand, he took the small, gold box. “What is this?”
“Your Christmas present.” She grinned, nearly giddy with excitement. “Go ahead. Open it.”
Feeling like the world’s biggest idiot, Lucas stared down at the neatly wrapped box in his hand. “I didn’t get you anything.”
If she was disappointed, she hid it well. “You didn’t need to. I wanted to get you this.”
Lucas turned the box over and over in his hands. For most of his life, Christmas had passed like any other day. Despite the modest gifts from the Calderas over the years, he’d refused to give meaning to the holiday.
It hadn’t crossed his mind to buy something for Allie, although it should have. It had been all too clear these past few weeks how important Christmas was to Allie.
And now she’d given him something and he had nothing to offer her in return. He felt the urge to return the gold foil box to her, but he had only to look at her shy, expectant smile to know that would hurt her far more than having nothing with which to reciprocate.
Under her watchful gaze, he tore off the paper. Whatever was inside the box, surely he could muster a convincing thank-you. She didn’t have to know how overwhelmed he felt at her gift.
Then he opened the box, saw the heavy gold ring. His initials figured in platinum, tiny diamonds studding the loops of the L. My God, how could she have known?
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