A Baby On The Way

by Laura Marie Altom

  “There has to be something I can do.”

  As if thinking, she drew in her lower lip. The sexy-as-hell nibbling frown was almost his undoing.

  “I know. How about if tonight I cook you dinner? Somewhere in the back of my SUV is a hibachi. I make a mean steak with mushroom sauce.”

  He groaned. “Sounds amazing, but I’ve got reunion stuff tonight.” Which I’d gladly dump in a heartbeat for a few more hours with you. Trouble was, he’d already proven himself incapable of keeping one woman. India deserved more than the obviously lackluster brand of emotional support he was capable of giving.

  “You sure?” she asked. “I don’t have all that much to unpack. We could eat early, leaving you plenty of time to meet up with your friends.”

  Raking his fingers through his hair, Graydon sighed. “I’d love nothing more than to spend the night—well, at least part of it—with you, but I thought we’d agreed to play things cool.”

  “We have. I merely invited you to dinner—not a makeout session.” Her playful elbow to his ribs skewered what little remained of his resolve.

  *

  “GRAYDON?” India winced after flipping on the back-porch light. “What are you doing?” Already in her staid white flannel nightgown, she had been hoping for her first bear sighting, when she’d heard a noise outside her door. The last thing she’d expected thirty-five minutes after Graydon had left was to find him lying on the gravel alongside her SUV.

  “What’s it look like I’m doing?” Following closer inspection, he’d wielded a can of Fix-A-Flat and was holding it up to her left rear tire.

  “Okay, maybe the better question is why? That tire was fine when I got back from the grocery store.” Barefoot, her long hair neatly pulled into two braids, she gingerly made her way across the deck and down four stairs to where her car was parked.

  “That’s all well and good,” he said, pushing to his feet with a grunt, “but when I left, it was looking a little shady. I ran out to get this—” he wagged the can “—just to get you through the night. In the morning, I’ll set you up with the best mechanic in town. He’ll then set you up with his tire guy.”

  “But—”

  “A simple thanks will do.” He lifted the lid to her bearproof trash container and he tossed the can inside.

  “Of course. Thank you, but—”

  “If you’re going to be a mountain girl, you’ll have to learn to be more prepared. There are some mighty desolate places out here where I wouldn’t want you or your baby to get caught alone.”

  “O-kay. I will. Try to be more careful, that is.” Unexpected gratitude warmed India to her toes and tightened her throat. Not once in her entire life had anyone remotely cared whether she made it somewhere safely. Oh, sure, maybe Lyndsay. But as evidenced by Lyndsay’s casual note, it wasn’t as if Lyndsay had been sitting home, fretting over her sister’s arrival. “But you don’t have to come rushing back in the morning. I can handle getting a tire fixed.”

  “Did I say you couldn’t?” he asked with a throaty chuckle. “After the amazing dinner you fixed, can I not repay you with a little hometown hospitality?”

  “Of course. But aren’t you supposed to be in that 5-K run in the morning?”

  “It’ll be over by nine-thirty. I can be out here by ten. Is that too long to wait? Would you rather meet me in town?”

  Yes, to both questions.

  Trouble was, India’s racing pulse told her she should say no. Never had she depended on anyone other than herself. It was safest that way. After all, look where just a few weeks’ blind trust in Zack had landed her. She put her hands on her stomach.

  “India?”

  In the floodlight’s harsh glare, she grew inordinately aware of not only Graydon but of her runaway feelings for him. No—not just feelings. Burning attraction. Attraction that was wrong on so many levels, yet felt so right.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” she said with a faint smile and nod. “I’m great.”

  “Sure? Because just now a sad expression flashed over that pretty mug of yours that looked as if you’d lost your best friend.”

  “Nah.” She grinned and shook her head.

  “Hey,” he said, voice all soft and tender with concern, “you’re seriously worrying me here. What’s up?”

  In the simple act of taking her hand in his, grazing his thumb across her palm, he crumpled the mental paper on which she’d carefully stated her every objection to why falling for him was a bad idea.

  To the accompaniment of chirping crickets and the gurgling stream, and squeezing his hand for all she was worth, India said, “This is going to sound out there, but in my whole life, I’ve never had anyone care whether I had a flat.”

  “Not even your baby’s father?”

  She snorted. “Especially not Zack.”

  “Okay, well, there’s a first for everything. So what’s the problem?”

  “The problem,” she said on the heels of a strangled laugh, “is that you are far too charming for your own good. I mean, not only did you help set the table, but you cleared it, and even washed dishes while I lounged around eating cookies and reading a movie magazine. Then you skipped out on whatever party you were supposed to go to, to help me out with a tire that might go flat.”

  “And? Say, if I’d invited you to my house and I looked tired from the stress of driving cross-country and lugging a baby around, wouldn’t you have done the same?”

  His question was so off-the-charts ludicrous, his smile so dazzlingly big and white, that India couldn’t help but smile, too, then crush him in a hug.

  The problem?

  Oh—it was a biggie. The more time she spent with Graydon Johnson, the more she found herself never wanting to let him go.

  Crazy.

  And yet…undeniable.

  *

  “YOU’RE LATE.”

  Graydon entered the Silver Cliff Elks Club banquet hall, where his class’s cocktail party was to have been held, only to be greeted by his old algebra buddy, Heather Markam. She sat at a vestibule registration table, where his was the only name badge not yet claimed. “Sorry,” he said, removing the backing from the Hello, My Name Is… sticker and slapping it on his chest. “I didn’t realize it was so late.”

  “That’s okay. I would’ve just abandoned your tag, but it gave me a great excuse not to venture farther.” She gestured over her shoulder toward an already rowdy crowd.

  “Not a party girl?”

  She shrugged. “I like to have a good time, but most folks passed that point about an hour ago. They’re now well into the three-sheets-to-the-wind phase, and I’m my crowd’s designated driver.”

  “Ah,” he said with a nod. “Know the feeling.”

  Exhausted from the mere thought of mingling with his tipsy classmates, Graydon briefly shut his eyes.

  Big mistake.

  What had his mind’s eye shown? India. Standing on that back deck. Her old-fashioned nightgown clinging to her long, lean legs. Her barely rounded belly. Her pregnancy-ripe breasts.

  About the same time that his mouth went dry, other parts of him went hard, placing him in the awkward spot of having to manage a face-saving escape.

  Snatching one of the yearbook-size pamphlets some industrious classmate had put together, he covered himself, then with a minimum of small talk dived into the party.

  He grabbed a Coke and mingled, but as Heather had pointed out, everyone was too far gone to hold a decent conversation that didn’t feature overexuberant, manly backslaps or high-pitched feminine squealing.

  Wandering out to a concrete patio that had been designated the smoking area, he found Tiffany crushing a butt.

  “Thought you’d kicked the habit,” he said, moseying her way, enjoying the cooler air and the more muted techno beat.

  “I did.” She flashed him a grin. “You know what they say about old habits dying hard.”

  “Sure.”

  “How’ve you been?” he asked, surprised to find he
genuinely cared.

  “Good.” Fumbling for another cigarette, she added, “But I miss Jake.”

  “You know you’re welcome to see him anytime.”

  “I know. But it’s tough. I left him. Poor guy’s gotta be ticked.”

  “He was. Is. He loves you, though. He’s a great kid. Not one to hold grudges.”

  Taking a deep drag, then slowly exhaling, she nodded.

  “You happy?”

  She gazed out at the dark night and shrugged. “Some days I’m not even sure I know the meaning of the word. Others, yeah. I’m on top of the world.”

  “Do you ever regret…you know…”

  “Leaving?”

  “Yeah.” Because suddenly, he had to find out.

  “Truthfully, for a split second yesterday afternoon, I saw you kissing that girl from the Class of 2004 and I was out of my mind with jealousy. But then it occurred to me that I’d had you and thrown you away. Back when I knew you, you were damaged goods. I used to love you more than my own life, but things change. People change. Now…” She turned her attention back to her cigarette.

  The old Graydon would have gotten a thrill out of Tiffany’s admission that for even an instant, she’d been jealous. But the new man emerging within him was sad. Sad that he’d ever even stooped so low as to pull that kind of juvenile stunt. Saddened further that he’d drawn an innocent like India into his game.

  Throat tight, he said, “Sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “Everything. Things going bad. I never set out to hurt you.”

  “I know. Likewise.” She crushed her cigarette, then wrapped him in a hug. He used to find her smoky scent arousing. Now he found it disappointing.

  *

  “CONGRATULATIONS!” India called above the cheering crowd as Graydon finished the 5-K charity run.

  “Hey, I thought I was meeting you at your place.” He jogged toward her. When he reached her, he braced his hands on his knees, catching his breath.

  “No sense in you driving all the way out there when I’d have to bring my car in anyway. Besides,” she said with a wink she didn’t mean to be flirty, “this way, I got to see you all decked out in your running suit.”

  “My running suit, huh?” He rose to his full height, and the breadth of his shoulders stole her next breath. His gray Silver Cliff Athletic Dept. T-shirt hugged his powerful chest like a second skin, and his red athletic shorts showed plenty of muscle. In a word, the man was gorgeous.

  And leaving for his East Coast home in the morning. Never to be seen again. What about that fact couldn’t she grasp?

  “It’s a good-looking suit,” she said, determined to hold up her end of the banter. Come Monday morning, she’d have plenty of time for melancholy. Until then, she’d enjoy what little time they had.

  “That’s because I’m a good-looking guy.” He winked.

  She actually blushed. To cover, she asked, “How’s the rest of your day?”

  “You mean schedulewise?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Side by side they headed for the parking area—no easy feat, considering the size of the jostling crowd. “Brunch, picnic, flag football, prebanquet cocktails, banquet cocktails, actual banquet, dance, postbanquet cocktails, then, if I’ve managed to live through all that, I might grab an hour’s sleep.”

  “Whoa. Sounds like you’ll be a busy beaver.”

  “Yep, but here’s the deal…” Stopping, taking her hands, forming an island in the midst of hundreds of chattering graduates, he said, “What would you say to my skipping all that, and you being my date for tonight’s banquet and dance?”

  “But…” Standing in brilliant July sun, surrounded by snowcapped mountains and soaring trees and air so clean and crisp it hardly seemed real, India wanted to say yes, yes, yes! with everything in her. So why did the thud in her stomach tell her no?

  Gee, could it be because she was carrying the baby of a man who’d viewed her only as a temporary diversion, and here she was, already on the brink of another fleeting affair?

  “I’m waiting,” Graydon said, giving her hands a squeeze. “Please, don’t leave me hanging. I feel like some geek who just asked the homecoming queen to prom.”

  “Hey,” she teased, “I was a geek, thank you very much.”

  “Looking back on it, weren’t we all. But that doesn’t answer my question. Want to be my official date for tonight?”

  “Graydon…” She drew her lower lip into her mouth for a nibble. She wanted to agree. She wanted to spend a long, leisurely afternoon soaking in a bubble bath and shaving her legs and doing her nails and hair and immersing herself in the girlie fun she’d missed during her own high school years. But going to this one dance wouldn’t erase twelve painfully lonely years of school. Spending more time with Graydon—romantic time circling a dance floor in his arms—wouldn’t make it easier to finally let him go. “Thanks so much for the offer, but I’ve still got unpacking to do, and really, I’ve already kept you from getting reacquainted with all your friends.”

  “Gotta say,” he mumbled, releasing her hands to shove his fingers through his hair, “out of all the times I’ve asked women on dates, you’re the first to turn me down. It hurts. Really, truly, deep down hurts.”

  “Graydon, I—” What should she say? Was he going to cry?

  “Gotcha!” he teased, flashing her his customary sexy grin. “Seriously, I do wish you’d reconsider, but if you’re in a time crunch to get settled before Monday, I understand.”

  “You do?” Then why didn’t she?

  “Sure. Hopefully, I’ll see you around town before I go, but if not, it’s been a blast getting to know you.”

  He pulled her against him for a hug. And she wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest. The dry mountain air had evaporated his sweat, and now the only evidence of his recent run was the musky, all-male scent of him. Why was the thought of forever letting him go too painful to comprehend? She hardly knew him, yet—

  “Oh. With you snuggled up against me like this, I almost forgot. Didn’t we already have a date to get you a new tire?”

  “Sure you have time?”

  “Absolutely. Do you?”

  “Of course. Thanks. Lead the way and I’ll tail you.” All the while, thanking her lucky stars that this goodbye was only a test run, and that if her luck held out, she’d still have one more hour before his leaving was no longer a drill.

  Chapter Five

  While standing in warm midmorning sun, waiting for the verdict on India’s tire outside Mo’s—who was not only the best mechanic in town, but the best chili-dog maker, seeing as how his wife, Monique, ran the chalet-style diner next door—Graydon felt like kicking a tire.

  What had he been thinking, asking India to the dance that way? Hadn’t he decided cooling things off would be the most appropriate course? She had a baby on the way—had already been badly hurt by her baby’s father. What this woman needed was a real man stepping up to the family plate. She needed a guy who’d be there for her and her kid 24/7. And obviously, given that he was headed back to New York Monday morning, that guy wasn’t going to be him.

  “Now, what we have here,” Earl, Mo’s tire manager, said in his mountain drawl, “is your classic case of a nail shootin’ right through your tread. Pretty big nail, too. This leaves you with two ways to go. Either we can fix your existing tire—a repair that usually lasts fairly well but could open you up for a potential blowout somewhere down the road. Or we could get you a whole new tire. Up to you how you want to go.”

  “She’ll take the new tire,” Graydon said. “For safety’s sake.”

  “Do you really think that’s necessary?” India asked.

  “Hey,” he said softly in her ear while Earl got a jumpstart on the order ticket. “You’ve got a baby on the way. Can you ever be too careful? This burgh might be all flowers and sunshine this time of year, but once winter rolls around, you’ll be grateful to have tackled the issue now.”


  In the end, she agreed, which left Graydon feeling like a bigger heel. What right had he to interfere in this woman’s life—be it in making a decision on tires, or anything else?

  “How long will it take?” she asked Earl.

  “I’m pretty sure we have this model tire in stock, and the only thing standing between you and your tire’s installation is Fred Schmidt’s deluxe oil change, so all in all, not more than an hour.” Graydon watched while India signed the forms on Earl’s busted clipboard. Poor guy, he’d been using the same one for as long as Graydon could remember. Had it duct-taped around the middle. He was the kind of man who could fix damn near anything, be it a car, hot-water heater or his three sons’ bikes. Graydon wanted to be like that. A capable, dependable father. Having been married to Brenda for what seemed like forever, Earl was presumably a great husband, too. Everyone always spoke highly of him. As though he was a man you could trust.

  And when they speak of me?

  Comments from the past came to mind.

  “Dude, that guy’s insane! Have you seen him throw a reverse half-pipe?”

  Or, “My man Gray here can chug six beers in sixty seconds.”

  “I’m sorry,” Sheriff Holloway had said to Graydon’s folks late one Friday night during his senior year, “but we had to take in your son for vandalism and underage drinking. You can pick him up at the station.”

  Graydon swallowed hard.

  “Buck for your thoughts,” India said with a playful nudge to his ribs. Earl had gone off in search of her tire.

  “A whole buck, huh?”

  “Hey, with inflation and all, I figure that’s the going rate.”

  “Probably so.”

  “Well?” She fished a dollar from her wallet, then offered it to him. “What’s up?”

  “You got a minute?”

  “More like an hour till my car gets done. Why?”

  Taking her hand not because he should but purely, selfishly because he wanted to, he led her to his rental SUV. “I want to show you something.”

  *

  TWENTY MINUTES LATER, India hopped out of Graydon’s car only to face yet another breathtaking view. He’d driven to an alpine meadow strewn with tall swaying grasses and wildflowers in white, yellow and blue. The dirt road had carried them another few thousand feet higher, so that the snowcapped mountains looked close enough to touch and the city of Silver Cliff below resembled a model railroader’s make-believe village. Beyond that, the lake she’d last seen sparkle with fireworks now shone mirror perfect in bright sun.