Waking Up Pregnant

by Mira Lyn Kelly

She peered up at him, again seeing the fatigue he’d shaken off while they were together, but now seemed etched in every line and shadow on his face.

  It made her want to wrap her arms around him, kiss away the tension and— No.

  “Better to end it like this I think.”

  Because suddenly she didn’t feel so very safe at all.

  * * *

  Watching Darcy walk out his door, Jeff was struck with the thought that at least this time he’d seen her go. It wasn’t the blindside of Vegas, not even close.

  Only witnessing the actual departure didn’t feel a whole hell of a lot better than it had the first time.

  Which was nuts considering the panic and urgency he’d faced that night, while tonight he’d agreed to the limitations up front. So what was his problem?

  Maybe it was the fatigue which, admittedly, had reached critical levels. He wasn’t thinking clearly was all. Once he’d caught a few hours of sleep, he’d have his head back on straight and his expectations as they applied to Darcy back in line.

  NINETEEN

  Perched at the edge of her kitchen chair, heat from the mug tucked against her chest warming the skin beneath, Darcy tried for a calming breath. Chances were good she wouldn’t see Jeff today. The low rumble of an engine had pulled her from a restless sleep around three, and when she’d walked past his room on her way downstairs a half hour before, the bed was more or less made up, the room empty.

  Just as well.

  “Stay...”

  With echoes of the night before still whispering through her head, some distance couldn’t hurt. In fact, the idea of Jeff in the city, figuring he’d wait a few more days, or maybe a week before coming back did more to ease the tension within her than all the chamomile-infused air she been gulping for the past ten minutes.

  “...Maybe you should stay in my arms...”

  Who knew, maybe he’d need to go back to Australia and it would be weeks before he had an opportunity to see her again. Even better.

  “...Maybe I shouldn’t let you go—”

  It would give her time to stop wondering about whatever had been hovering on his lips when they’d realized his mother had returned home and the thought was cut off. Whether he’d been about to say tonight, at all or for a few more minutes.

  It would give her time to remember it didn’t matter what qualifier he’d been about to apply. The man couldn’t be held to anything he said after two days without sleep.

  “...I warned you...”

  A shiver ran through her at the memory of the heat those words had caused and all that had happened after.

  Yes, it would be good if Jeff got very, very busy and she didn’t have to see him again for a long, long—

  “Are you interested in dating any of the guys my mother’s getting lined up for you?”

  Darcy jumped at the gruff voice she’d mentally relocated to downtown L.A., sloshing tea over the lip of her mug. “Jeff! You scared the life out of me. I—I thought you’d left last night. Your room was empty.... Wait, what?”

  Jeff stood in the doorway to the kitchen wearing a contemplative scowl and a sleeveless white runner’s tank with navy shorts. His skin was sweaty and dark from exertion, his hair standing in a sexy mess of damp spikes.

  “Because she’s not going to let it drop.” He stared at her, a dark look in his eyes. “Hell, you’ve met her. She’s tenacious. And these guys aren’t going to be the usual fare of tail-chasing chumps you’ve spent the past few years deflecting. If you decided you wanted one of them...”

  Darcy pushed back from the table and went to get a dish towel to wipe up her spill.

  How could he even ask after what happened last night? It hurt—but it shouldn’t. She shouldn’t give him so much power over her. Steeling herself, she kept it simple.

  “No.” And then because she couldn’t stand the sight of the scowl he was wearing, she added lightly, “I shudder to think how your ego would take it.”

  His mouth kicked up, and Jeff walked into the room, going straight to the coffee machine. “Hmm, I like how susceptible you are to his plight. With that in mind, what do you think about packing your things and coming back with me?”

  “What?” She most definitely couldn’t have heard him right. Not with the way Jeff was standing there casually brewing himself a mug of coffee while he basically blew everything they’d agreed upon last night straight to hell.

  “Turns out I’m the jealous sort. As it applies to you, anyway.”

  Jealous. Where was this coming from? After her near-date with Grant?

  “If my mom’s parading Southern California’s most eligible bachelors in front of you every now and then...” He shook his head, again running that wide palm over the scrub of his solid jaw. “Yeah, I’m losing it a little thinking about one of them catching your attention. Because you’ll catch theirs. Every one, Darcy. So, self-serving bastard that I am, I’m going to be driving out here seven days a week with the straight-up intention of sabotaging her efforts.”

  “Jeff,” she tried again, needing to inject some reason where suddenly there seemed to be none. “I’m a high school dropout. They aren’t—”

  “Going to care. Mom wouldn’t let some stuck-up prick with a hard-on for credentials within ten thousand feet of you. But the men who would appreciate how easy it is to carry on a conversation with you about virtually anything—the ones who would respect that you’ve been steadily working your way through my old textbooks since you got here and read two newspapers a day. The ones who earn that laugh of yours—” Breaking off, he looked away muttering a coarse expletive.

  “So yeah, even after I run the lot of these great guys off, the ego you keep indulging is still going to have something to prove. Which means...I’m going to be pulling out every dirty, low-down trick I can think of to seduce you back into my bed. And, Darcy?”

  The dark look in Jeff’s eyes did things to her she didn’t want to think about. Didn’t want to acknowledge.

  Didn’t want to stop. “What?”

  He stepped behind her and, gathering her hair in a loose twist over one shoulder, ran his lips and then the stubble rough edge of his jaw along the sensitive exposed length of her neck in a way that made her breath catch and a needy ache stir low in her belly.

  “I’ve got a lot of tricks. And I already know several that work on you.”

  “So what are you saying?” she asked, fighting the purr and moan trying to slip out with her words. “If I move in with you, you won’t be compelled to seduce me?”

  His hands slid down the length of her arms, then slowly back up as the low rumble of his laugh vibrated against her back. “No. I’ll seduce you either way. But for a change, once I get you into my bed, I’d like to wake up to you still there the next morning.”

  A weight settled in her chest.

  “Jeff, we talked about this. We agreed last night.”

  “You can’t hold me to anything I said last night. I hadn’t slept in days. This morning, though, I’m seeing things clearly. I know you’re worried about complicating a relationship we need to sustain for our child’s sake. But it doesn’t need to get complicated. What’s between us—”

  “Is sex,” she stated evenly, though inside everything felt turbulent and chaotic.

  “Yeah, really, really incredible sex. But there’s friendship and caring and respect, too. And the truth is what I’m suggesting makes sense. You’re pregnant with my child. I don’t want you to be alone. And while you most definitely could stay out here with my mother...there’s a very big part of me asking why you would, when we could be making the most of this time we’ve got before our little guy comes. We could take care of each other.”

  It was those last words that caught her, the balance suggested in taking care of each other that gave her pause.


  “And what happens if one of us realizes they want more than the other? If one of us suddenly wants less? What happens if it gets messy?”

  “It won’t. We can keep it simple. You move in with me, I make you feel good in ways that get you to give up those breathless little cries on a frequent basis, my ego gets regular feedings and we take all the guesswork out of it by putting a natural stop date on the fun and games when Junior comes—if we’re open and honest about the limits of where this can go, no one gets hurt. We know what we’re getting into.”

  He made it sound so easy, but it wouldn’t be. Not for her. And yet what he was offering held an unmistakable appeal. It was the ready excuse to take more of this man she wanted so badly. The handy justification she needed to give in to the want without hating herself for being weak, for all but inviting the hurt and vulnerability some open-ended go at a relationship would involve.

  If she agreed to what Jeff was suggesting, even if her emotions did get away from her, she wouldn’t be waiting around for a happily ever after. She’d know there was a limit on the relationship and, having been a part of establishing those boundaries, wouldn’t feel as though she’d betrayed herself by giving in. She’d have made the conscious, informed decision to grab hold of this pleasure for the time it was available.

  And when it was over, she’d be able to look at herself in the mirror without seeing some pathetic victim with her hand out waiting for whatever emotional scraps were available and her breath held for some fantasy that would never come true.

  She turned to face him, searching his eyes. “So you’re talking about a sort of extended friends-with-benefits arrangement?”

  Jeff winced as though he didn’t like the sound of it, but then seemed to reconsider. “I suppose that would be accurate.”

  She wouldn’t be his girlfriend. It wouldn’t be a relationship.

  It would be an affair with a bittersweet but predetermined end date. Something she could live with.

  “What would we tell your mother?” she asked. “What would you tell everyone?”

  Because people would talk. How could they not? She remembered some of the stories about Connor and Megan and knew the talk they’d had to contend with was nothing compared to the gossip and speculation that would surround her. Not that there wasn’t plenty already, but if she moved in with Jeff...and then moved out.

  “Nothing. It’s no one’s business but ours.” His arms snaked around her back in an unmistakably possessive hold. “You’re not going to regret this.”

  This close she couldn’t think, at least not about anything beyond how good it felt to have him touch her. How much closer she wanted to get. Pressing her palms into his chest she pushed, trying to keep the action from turning into a shameless feel.

  “Jeff, wait, I haven’t decided yet.”

  The corner of his mouth kicked up. “Yes, you have.”

  And when he ducked his head to catch her mouth with his, there was no denying he was right.

  * * *

  For long moments he kissed her, slowly, deeply, thoroughly—the languid sweep of his tongue between her lips serving both to seal the deal as well as remind her they could take as much time as they liked.

  And then from the hall beyond came the rattle of keys and Darcy jerked back, only to have Jeff catch her before she could put more than a few inches between them.

  “Not done with you yet,” he murmured at her ear as Gail’s sing-songy chatter—a little more clipped than usual, spilled around the corner.

  “Running late...Pilates...lots of errands...back later.”

  Jeff’s brow arched and they both looked toward the doorway leading to the back door in time to see Gail buzz past with a hasty wave and barely a backward glance.

  Darcy glanced up at Jeff. “She knows.”

  Jeff wagged his head. “Probably. On the upside, she won’t be surprised when we tell her you’re moving out.”

  TWENTY

  The universe was conspiring against him. There wasn’t any other explanation for why three times Jeff had gotten Darcy into his bed, and three times he’d woken up alone.

  Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he rolled onto his back and stretched across an expanse of sheets better suited to two than one.

  He’d get up earlier tomorrow because he was determined to have Darcy in his bed, every way possible. He hadn’t thought it could get any better than having her coming apart for him in this space that was his alone. But after the passion had been sated and they lay together with Darcy tucked into the shelter of his body—for once not going anywhere...the rhythm of her breath slowing until she was asleep in his arms, his hand resting over the small swell of her belly—yeah, that was a satisfaction, a rightness beyond expectation.

  It made him want more.

  Starting with the sleep-softened morning version of her lazing between his sheets. Warming beneath his unhurried touch. Giving up those little pleasured sounds he couldn’t get enough of.

  Pushing out of bed, Jeff groaned thinking how gorgeous she’d be in the morning with nothing but sunshine blanketing her lush body, making all that silky hair shine like spilled gold across his pillow.

  Maybe he’d coax her back into bed, he thought, about to swing the bathroom door open—when Darcy beat him to it emerging from the other side, hair pulled back into a snarled knot, the skin beneath her eyes looking like an old bruise and her complexion in general making the slate-gray of his sheets look downright rosy.

  “Darcy, are you okay?” he asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, ready to swing her into his arms and jog over to the E.R. She looked like death warmed over and suddenly a part of him was sincerely wishing Grant was the man she’d spent the night with so he could help her. But even as the thought skirted through his mind, a highly possessive part of him roared. Definitely no Grant.

  “I will be,” she half moaned then, looking down at her watch, added, “in about five minutes. It never lasts past eight-thirty these days.”

  Holy hell. This was the morning sickness she still endured a few times a week. Which meant it wasn’t the universe conspiring against him after all. Just his little baby in the making.

  “Do you want to get back into bed? I can bring you some crackers, ginger ale, tea, eggs or a cake—do you want more cake?”

  She waved a frenzied hand in front of him, her lips pinching together as her cheeks puffed out, effectively conveying her “No thank you” in somewhat less polite but more effective nonverbal means.

  Which left him standing there looking down at her with a sense of impotence he didn’t dig at all.

  “Darce, is there anything I can do for you?”

  Shaking her head, she muttered, “Just give me a couple of minutes. Alone.”

  Alone.

  Why did she always want to go it alone? And damn it, why did it bother him so much that she did?

  Giving her hand a parting squeeze, he headed out to the kitchen figuring he’d make some tea for when she was ready.

  * * *

  She couldn’t catch a break. Darcy flattened her hands on the solid marble counter and stared into the mirror in front of her. One morning. That’s really all she’d wanted. Just the one to get accustomed to being with Jeff on an extended basis without her stomach rolling out the welcome mat for this new phase of their relationship. Temporary phase. For their non-relationship.

  She let out a deep sigh. It was supposed to be based on sex. And morning sickness, hers in particular, was so totally not sexy. Not even close.

  Her belly gave a twist of the more traditional dread-filled variety as she geared up to leave the sanctuary of Jeff’s sleek master bath. If she was going to find regret in Jeff’s eyes or discomfort or whatever else, she wanted to see it now.

  She’d be able to handle it, too. Because there wasn’t any
part of her that had gotten attached to the idea of being here.

  No, she was fine.

  She was tough. Practical. And resilient.

  A last glance in the mirror told her she was also about as put together as she was going to get. Freshly showered, teeth cleaned, hair blown out smooth and neat. Sure the blouse was a little tight and she didn’t love the feel of it, but she was banking on the snug fit to give her an edge in the coming exchange.

  Walking down the hall, her bare feet quiet over the blond hardwood, she took in the modern clean lines of the place—the open layout, high ceilings and stark-white walls—all contrasting with the repurposed hunks of heavy steel.

  The apartment was so Jeff she couldn’t help but love it on sight.

  And she’d only just gotten there.

  It didn’t matter.

  In the kitchen, Jeff was on the phone, issuing one word replies between brief pauses as he cracked some eggs, single-handed into a bowl with shredded cheese. He hadn’t bothered to pull on a shirt and was still sporting those superthin drawstring plaid pajama bottoms with bare feet. His hair looked the same as always—messy in a tempting but touch-me-at-your-own-peril way. And the look was hot enough to nullify any advantage her too-tight blouse might have earned her.

  This was the man who’d pleasured her senseless the night before. And then this morning—

  Don’t think about it.

  Darcy slid onto a stool that looked like some kind of industrial spring with a leather padded seat top, and watched the play of muscles across his broad shoulders and down his arm as he used a fork to whip through the mix.

  “Yep...Uh-huh...That’s great...In about an hour, then...Excellent.” Jeff thumbed off the phone and catching sight of her over his shoulder turned. “Hey, you feeling better?”

  “Completely, thanks.” That was the thing about the morning sickness, once it was gone, it was really gone. Well, until it came back. But the interim...she felt like a million bucks.

  Darcy nodded toward the phone in his hand. “Do you have an appointment?”