Baby Under the Mistletoe (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 10

  He needed to get away from her right now. The contrast between the high of seeing their baby for the first time and the low of getting slapped in the face with the truth was too much. He needed a chance to regroup before she nailed him with any more of her harsh reality.

  In the safety of the waiting room, he asked the woman at the reception window for the ultrasound photos, and he felt a bit of the tension drain from his shoulders. As he gazed at an image of the baby, he almost couldn’t bear the enormity of it. Tears came to his eyes, and he blinked stupidly.

  Tears?

  What the hell was happening to him? He wasn’t the kind of guy who got choked up at the sentimental parts of movies, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt the sting of tears in his eyes.

  He faked interest in something on the wall and forced his mind to go blank for a moment until he’d recovered. As he studied the framed print, he slowly allowed himself to consider what he needed to deal with next.

  Soleil, their future, his career, hers, how to join their lives for the sake of the baby…Was it even possible?

  It had to be. He had to be involved in his child’s life. The alternative was unimaginable. And yet, he couldn’t quite imagine how to make it happen, either.

  That was why he and Soleil needed to talk.

  In that brief moment of hopefulness, when they’d seen their baby together on the ultrasound screen, he’d felt a powerful connection to Soleil. That connection was evidenced by the photos in his hand. He had to hold on to that feeling of hope, because there had to be some way they could make a family.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  SOLEIL HAD NEVER GAZED longingly at other people’s babies, wishing for one of her own. She liked babies well enough, enjoyed holding them, thought they were cute and all. But ached for one?

  Not at all.

  So when she saw her own child’s ultrasound image, looking so much more like a real baby than it had at twelve weeks, she was surprised at the overwhelming ache, coming from somewhere so deep down she couldn’t begin to pinpoint its origin.

  Even after they’d left the doctor’s office, she could still feel its grip on her, almost choking in its intensity.

  West, for his part, looked shell-shocked yet again. She wondered if he was feeling as freaked out as she was, but she wasn’t ready to talk about it.

  That look on his face during the ultrasound—it had spoken volumes. She’d seen in his eyes the same wonder she’d been feeling, and she’d understood in that moment that the baby was as big a deal for him as it was for her.

  Of course, he didn’t have to watch his body taken over by it, and his life wouldn’t change in the same ways hers would, but he was, no doubt, profoundly affected.

  Remorse like she’d never felt before crept up on her as they walked across the parking lot. What had she done? What on earth had she been thinking, not telling him about the pregnancy from the start? Now things were such a tangled mess. They had so far to go, so much to sort out before they could begin to see the way toward a resolution.

  But what if…

  Maybe…

  The hope she’d felt while looking at their baby’s image minutes ago dared a resurgence. West was here. And she was here. They were two caring adults. Somehow, they could make this work, couldn’t they?

  Back in the car, she dug around in her purse for more crackers and found instead a voice-mail notice on her cell phone. Grateful for the distraction, she checked the message.

  It was her mom, saying that she’d decided to come to stay for the holidays, that she’d be arriving tomorrow.

  Tomorrow?

  “Oh, God,” Soleil muttered into the phone as West settled in the driver’s seat.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She deleted the message and put her phone away. “It’s my mother. She’s coming for the holidays.”

  “You weren’t expecting her?”

  “I usually visit her. That way I can see my friends in the Bay Area and leave before my mom starts driving me insane.”

  “But this year you’re staying home?”

  “Yeah.”

  Because of you, Soleil thought to herself.

  Whoa.

  Where had that come from?

  But it was true.

  She hadn’t planned on it. She hadn’t given much thought to the reasons she didn’t feel like going to her mom’s house. She’d known West was part of it, but she hadn’t realized he was the main reason she wasn’t leaving town. There was the issue of the baby, too, of her mom not knowing yet, but mostly, staying home was about West.

  And of course her mother had gotten her e-mail and taken it as a hint to come to Soleil instead.

  West started the car. “I’m looking forward to meeting her,” he said, smiling in a way that didn’t sit right with Soleil.

  “You won’t feel that way after she spends an evening with you, railing against the military-industrial complex or explaining how all her poems are really about the inferiority of men.”

  He smiled that lazy smile of his that never failed to spark desire in her. “I bet she’s not as bad as you make her out to be.”

  “She’s worse.”

  Soleil finally remembered that she’d left the package of crackers in the storage compartment in the door, and she found it and quickly popped another cracker into her mouth.

  “Maybe we ought to have some lunch,” West said.

  “There’s a great Thai place a few blocks that way,” Soleil said, pointing south.

  “Let’s do it.”

  “I’m not sure what your schedule is like for the rest of the day, but if you have time, I’d like to stop at a store, too.”

  “No problem.”

  This was all sounding way too domestic and feeling way too claustrophobic for Soleil’s taste, especially when she considered the reality of going crib shopping with West. Yet, when contrasted with the thought of her mother’s probable reaction to him, she had a rebellious urge to go wild with the whole domestic thing.

  She gave him directions to the restaurant, and a few minutes later they were being seated at a table for two next to a window that overlooked the strip-mall parking lot.

  “Not so great on ambience,” she said, “but the curries are to die for.”

  “Great.” He paused, seeming distracted. “Listen, about your mom, I really would like to meet her. Maybe we could have dinner with my mother and yours both. Sort of, you know, get the two families together.”

  She tried to imagine lovely, sensible, capable Julia Morgan enduring an entire evening with her arrogant, self-important, whiskey-loving mother.

  “I like your mom. I don’t think she deserves that kind of suffering.”

  The waitress arrived then.

  “Order for both of us—whatever you think it is good,” West said, so she asked for two Thai iced teas, spring rolls and green curry with rice.

  After the waitress left the table, Soleil stared at him, trying to decide how to proceed from green curry to what to do with the rest of their lives.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Oh, nothing.”

  “My mom really likes you, too, you know,” he said.

  She nodded, grateful for the change of subject. “That’s a compliment. She’s one of those pillars of the community that, if anything really bad ever happens, you know she’ll be right there, putting civilization back together from scratch.”

  He laughed without smiling. “She is definitely that, to her own detriment, I think.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My dad—his health is declining, and he’s harassed all his caretakers into quitting, so what does my mom do when she hears about it?”

  The waitress showed up with their drinks, and Soleil gave West a questioning look as she began mixing the tea, condensed milk and cream together in her glass.

  “She shows up and insists on being his caregiver. Even though they’re divorced, and even though he’s bound to make her miserable.”


  “Wow. That’s—”

  “Nutty,” he filled in.

  “No, it’s sweet. Kind of twisted, but sweet.”

  West shook his head. “They’ve been divorced for most of my adult life. It’s freaky to see her in his house, serving him omelets and putting up with his crap.”

  “She’s a grown woman. She has her reasons. It’s too bad there aren’t more people as selfless as her in the world. So what’s going on with your dad? You didn’t mention anything was wrong with him.”

  “He’s the reason I came home early. He’s got Alzheimer’s and it’s been getting worse in the past few months.”

  “Oh, God, I’m sorry.”

  So not only had she dropped a bombshell on him with the surprise pregnancy, but she’d managed to do it when he was going through a major family trauma. What timing. The ball of guilt in her belly grew another few inches.

  West took a drink of his own tea, shrugging. After, he said, “It’s grim to see him like that.”

  “The General,” Soleil murmured.

  She didn’t really know West’s father, had only met him once, but had heard of him from the time he’d served on the town council a few years ago and frequently caused uproars with his bullheadedness.

  “I would have told my mom no way should she be taking care of him, but she’s determined to be there until I can find a better situation.”

  “What does that mean—a better situation?”

  He shrugged. “I wish I knew.”

  “Do you think he needs to go to a nursing home?”

  West’s gaze turned hard, but his voice came out soft. “He’s near that point, sure, but…”

  “You can’t do it?”

  “I also can’t leave my mom here to try to manage on her own with Dad. So I’m hoping to find a good caregiver to hire who can’t be bullied by my dad.”

  “Maybe a former drill sergeant?”

  He laughed and shook his head, but it was a facade. The slump in his shoulders said everything. She’d never seen West look so defeated as he did right now, and she ached for him.

  “There’s nothing scarier than seeing someone you thought was invincible for most of your life suddenly falling apart.”

  “What was your dad like when you were growing up? I mean, I hope he wasn’t as much of a dictator as he tried to be on the Promise town council.”

  Their spring rolls arrived, and Soleil didn’t bother acting politely. As soon as she saw the food, she was ravenous. She grabbed a roll, dipped it in sauce and took an enormous bite.

  West seemed on the verge of making a joke about her hunger, but must have thought better of it. “I’d say he’s mellowed out in recent years, so the guy you saw on the town council was probably a kinder, gentler John Morgan.”

  “Yikes.”

  “He used to make us do push-ups if we forgot to say sir when addressing him.”

  “And you willingly joined the military after that?”

  He shrugged, half grinning. “I guess it felt familiar.”

  “And you probably wanted to finally please your dad.”

  “Something like that. It’s always driven me crazy that I care so much what he thinks. I spent so much time pissing him off when I was a kid. Then when I finally had a chance to get out from under his thumb for good, I went right into the air force academy.”

  Soleil caught the discomfort in his expression, as if he was seeing how transparent his choices were for the first time, and she decided not to push him toward any more self-revelation.

  But he continued on his own. “I guess I’ve never thought about it before, but I must have been desperate to prove something.”

  “Prove what?”

  He frowned. “I’ve always been proud that I made the Special Forces team after the General told me there was no way I could do it.”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t you be?”

  “Seeing the way my father is now—not himself anymore…I wish I could let go of those petty feelings.”

  Thinking of her own mother, Soleil said, “Family relationships rarely bring out the best in us.”

  Understatement of the year.

  He lapsed into silence as he ate a spring roll, and Soleil wondered if she’d ever have the courage to broach the subject that was hanging in the air between them like a deadweight—the baby, their future, what they were going to do…

  “So,” she said, her throat suddenly tight, “you’re happy with your career?”

  His gaze searched hers. He wanted to know why she was asking, and she wasn’t sure she even knew. “Sure,” he said. “I mean, it’s my life.”

  “That’s how I feel about the farm,” she said, a weird mix of regret and satisfaction plaguing her.

  They had such opposite paths in life: he traveled around the world performing covert military operations, while she was rooted firmly to one sacred spot, doing work that affirmed life and encouraged growth. She didn’t see how they could ever make raising a child together work.

  “We’ve got the baby to consider,” he said.

  Whoa, he’d come right out and said it.

  “Right,” she croaked.

  “I have to admit, I never thought about how a family would fit into my career life. After seeing my parents’ marriage fall apart, I wasn’t in any hurry to get married, or have kids, for that matter.”

  “Yeah,” she said, a film of sweat breaking out on her upper lip. “Me, neither.”

  “There’s no way I can have my own flesh and blood walking around in the world, and not take part in raising her.”

  “West—” The cold sweat spread to the back of her neck, her chest, her underarms…

  “Just listen. You’ve had five and a half months to figure out how a baby will fit into your life, and I’ve had a couple of days. But the way I felt in that doctor’s office, and the look I saw on your face, you’ve got to admit we have some common ground here. We both want the best for our baby.”

  Tears, treacherous tears, sprang to her eyes. Soleil was not the kind of woman who burst into tears over lunch. It had to be the pregnancy hormones. They were making her nuttier and nuttier. She blinked away the dampness and looked out the window.

  “Of course,” she said.

  “I don’t know how our parenting her together will look yet, but we owe it to the baby to make whatever compromises it takes to give her a good life with both of her parents.”

  Soleil forced herself to nod. She couldn’t argue with him, but she also couldn’t imagine what compromises would get them to a place of harmony. And yet, she wanted to recapture that moment of sheer joy they’d shared while viewing the ultrasound. She wanted to feel that hopeful and happy all the time, not only for a few minutes.

  “Maybe you could have someone else run the farm while you move to Colorado—”

  A humorless laugh burst from Soleil’s throat. She contemplated hurling the last spring roll at his forehead, but no. Happy and hopeful—that’s how she was wanted to feel right now.

  “Why do you assume I’ll be the one making the compromises?” she said as evenly as she could.

  He leaned back in his chair, crossing his thickly muscled arms over his chest. Something sparked in his blue eyes. “I’d say we’re both compromising there. I’m the one who’d have to put up with you.”

  He was toying with her temper because starting an argument was easier than working through their differences.

  With a Herculean effort, she ignored the bait. “Let’s don’t go there.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Go where?”

  “I don’t want to argue with you right now. Let’s just, for today, try to get along. Cool?”

  “Cool,” he said quietly.

  His gaze lingered too long on her. He had a way of looking at her, the way he did now, that turned her into a fool, made her a quivering mass of hormones that wanted nothing more than to be in his presence. And she hated—absolutely hated—that he wielded such power over her.

 
She turned her attention to her tea, stirring it even though the drink no longer needed it.

  “So,” he said, “I get to meet your mother soon.”

  She forced a smile. Meeting the parents was a particularly horrifying idea when it would involve admitting at the same time that they were accidentally knocked up.

  She, the social worker, the one who lectured teen girls about taking charge of their reproduction, using birth control and making smart choices, should have known better.

  “Um, yeah.”

  “Do you worry about turning out too much like your mother?”

  “Sure. Especially now that I’ll be a single mother, too.”

  West’s expression hardened, and she realized too late that she’d ventured into controversial territory again. He didn’t intend for her to be a single mother.

  “How about you?” she asked, to smooth over the awkwardness. “Afraid of turning into your father?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “It’s a valid fear,” she said.

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “No problem.” She grinned. “I mean, I’m sure you’re not any more like him than I am like my mother…except that in some ways, I’m very much like her, and it scares the hell out of me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she’s crazy.”

  “Crazy how?”

  “You’ll see when she gets here.”

  He didn’t look satisfied with that answer.

  “Let’s just say it sounds like you experienced the opposite of my upbringing. And unlike your dad, my mom hasn’t mellowed out at all in her old age.”

  West made a face, and Soleil turned her attention to the curry that was arriving at the table.

  It was true, she recognized too much of her mother in herself. When she had to spend actual time with Anne their likenesses, as well as their differences, became all too painfully clear.

  The very thought of her mother’s arrival nearly made her lose her appetite. Nearly, but not quite.

  CHAPTER NINE

  AS THEY WALKED FROM the Thai restaurant to the baby store, West checked the messages on his cell phone, relieved to see there weren’t any urgent calls from his mother about the General. There was a call from his assignment officer, but he didn’t want to know yet what that one was about. He slipped the phone into his pocket, struck by how quickly his life had transformed into one he barely recognized.