Don't Break My Heart (Return to Redemption, Book 6) (14 page)

“I don’t.”

“But you do. You jumped all over Frankie at the wedding
about making two sweet Caucasian girls look Hispanic. I don’t want you passing
your paranoia down to our Latino child. If you refuse to let what happened with
my dad go, I can’t—”

“Okay. I promise to work on it.” He turned his face away.
“It wasn’t your dad that left me
paranoid
—if
that’s what you want to call what I feel.”

“Then what was it?”

He turned back to face her, pain flickering in his eyes.
“All those years of believing you left me because your old man didn’t approve
of you having anything to do with a penniless Chicano. It broke my heart when I
thought you’d chosen him over me. And then you broke it again when you didn’t
want anything more with me than a fling. I felt like I was just a stiff dick to
you.”

“Oh, no, Justin!” She kissed him hard. “It was exactly the
opposite. I left home because I loved you and our baby, and I didn’t want
anything to do with my father if he couldn’t love you, too. And the only reason
I didn’t want to continue our relationship was because I felt like
you
were only interested in sex and
padding your studly ego by seeing how many times you could make me come.”

He ran his knuckles down her cheek and chuckled. “Hearing
that makes all the difference,
cariño
.
I don’t deny that knowing I can please you so much is a giant ego boost, but my
main interest in giving you pleasure is purely because I love you. I want to
make you happy.”

“You do.” They stared into each other’s eyes for several
moments before she continued her explanation. “Anyway, the counselor at the
sperm bank showed me a profile for a college graduate Latino man your height
and weight. When I saw his childhood picture, I wanted my baby to look just
like him.”

“You mean
me
.”

“Yes.” She drew tiny circles in the center of his bare chest
with her fingertip. “I wanted him to look like
you
.”

He grabbed her hand. “You keep that up you may never get
dinner.”

“So you’re not mad?”

“What could I be mad about?” His voice grew huskier as if
emotion clogged his throat. “That you love me and want our child to look like
me?”

“No. That I didn’t tell you when you mentioned donating to
the same facility I used.”

“I understand why you didn’t. You know,”—he tweaked her
nose—“Brain could always end up looking like you.”

“Or I could be carrying another Pinky.”

“Oh, man!” He dropped his head back. “I forgot about Haley.
Do you think she’ll be all right sharing our attention with a baby?”

“She’s already nagging me to go shopping for him. She said I
have to take her because she’s gonna be the godsister.”

“That sounds like one of
F.
Lee
Haley’s arguments.”

“Cute. She really does debate every issue like a Boston
lawyer, doesn’t she?”

“So much, I’m already checking out law schools.”

“Seriously, don’t you want to know if you were my donor?”

“No. I told you it doesn’t matter. Besides, now that I know
there’s a distinct chance I could be your baby-daddy, I can let myself believe
I am. I don’t want to find out
I’m not
and be disappointed.”

“I can understand that. But I’d feel a lot better if I had a
more detailed family medical history for our child. And if you’re the dad, we
would have one. How do you think Nick and Sam would’ve felt when Dani was
diagnosed with leukemia if they’d had no idea if Nick had contributed to her
DNA?”

“Okay.” He raised his hands. “I guess that makes sense. You
can find out, but I don’t what to know.”

“Are you sure? After the baby’s born, we can do a DNA test—”

“There’s an easy enough way to check right now.”

“How?”

He stood and strolled over to the built-in bookcase where he
pulled out a photo album. “I don’t want you to tell me,” he said, leafing
through several pages, “but this way you’ll know in case our child ever gets
sick.” He held the book out to her and pointed to a picture next to a blank
space where a photo had been removed. “That shot was taken the same day as my
donor picture.”

She studied the image of the same adorable little boy she’d
chosen standing next to an older boy who had to be Nick. Justin wore the same
exact polo shirt as her donor.

“Thanks.” She turned away, struggling to keep a straight
face.

He stared down at the floor. “It wasn’t me, was it?”

She smiled. “I
thought
you don’t want to know.”

“It
is
me.” He
heaved an exasperated sigh. “Just tell me, already. I’ll deal with it.”

She crossed her arms and turned away from him. “I don’t
think I will.”

“Oh, yeah? Do I need to tickle it out of you?”

She jumped off the couch and dashed down the hall while he
chased after her, his hands outstretched like claws.

“You know I’m faster than you.” He grabbed her around the
waist and pulled her down to the living room’s thick carpet on top of himself,
breaking her fall.

“All right!” she screeched as he tickled her ribs. “I’ll
tell you!”

He rolled her to her back and brushed the hair from her
face.

“You’re
not
the
baby’s biological father.” She pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh.

“Okay, then.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I still love you
both, more than I can tell you.”

“Do you wanna know a secret?”

“What? That you like old Beatle’s songs?” He chuckled,
lightly pinching her bare bottom. “Or that you’re a
terrible
liar?”

“Those, too.” She grinned.

“What’s your secret?”

“Brain and I love you a whole bunch, too.” She combed her
fingers through Justin’s dark hair. “And the
only
thing we’re interested in taking over is your heart.”

“Not possible.” He brushed his lips across hers, and
whispered, “You already did that—a long, long time ago.”

At four a.m. on the Fourth of July, Justin woke to a warm
wet sheet under him. Damn. Had he wet the bed?

He carefully extricated himself from Trisha’s arms and felt
his side of the mattress. The moisture had come from Trisha and it seemed like
a lot more than a little incontinence. Fortunately, his wife had had the foresight
to put a waterproof protector under the sheets.

How could she stay asleep, lying in that mess?

He shook her gently. “
Querida
,
I think it’s time.”

She moaned and rolled over, snuggling deeper into her
pillow. “Just five more minutes.”

Wasn’t
she
supposed
to wake
him
when the Brain decided to
arrive? For the last week, she’d been so uncomfortable, she’d barely slept.

“Trisha, baby. We need to go to the hospital.” He stripped
off his damp boxer briefs and pulled on his jeans without taking time to put on
fresh underwear.

“My back is killing me,” she mumbled.

“Trisha! Wake up. You’re having the baby.”

She sat up and rubbed her eyes. A moment later, she grabbed
her stomach and doubled over for a solid thirty seconds. “Owww, that really
hurts.”

“How long has your back been bothering you?” He yanked a
shirt off a hanger in the closet and pulled it on.

“For the last three months.” She yawned.

“Very funny.” He grabbed his sneakers and wiggled his bare
feet into them.

“It’s only been bad since right before we went to bed. I
figured if I got off my feet it would get better.”

“Shit. Why didn’t you say something? You’ve probably been in
labor all night!”

“I couldn’t be. The pain would’ve woken me.”

“Right,
Rip Van Trisha
!
You slept through your water breaking. Don’t you remember them talking about
back labor in our childbirth classes?”

“What’s going on?” Haley knocked on the door. “Is the Brain
comin’?”

When they’d found out they were having a boy, she’d loved
the fact that she was Pinky to their little Brain.

Justin flung the bedroom door open. “Yes! Get Trisha’s keys
and start her car while I bring her downstairs.” He grabbed the overnight case
his wife had packed from the closet. “And take this down to the car.”

Haley scrubbed the sleep from her eyes and yawned. “Can I go
with you?”

“Only if you can be dressed in less than a minute.”

Trisha doubled over again, clutching her stomach. “Hurry!
It’s been a lot less than five minutes.”

Haley left the suitcase and raced down the hall to her
bedroom. She returned in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt before Justin could get
Trisha’s robe on her.

“Don’t just stand there!” he yelled. “Go, go, go!”

Haley grabbed the overnight bag. A second later, he heard
her feet pounding down the staircase.

Justin scooped Trisha up and followed.

She struggled in his arms. “Put me down. You’re gonna strain
your back!”

“I’m fine.” Or he would be if she’d stop fighting him.

“Do you have any idea how much I weigh right now?” She’d
been worrying about how much weight she gained throughout her entire pregnancy.

“Less than a bulldozer and about eight pounds more than you
will by tomorrow. I don’t wanna be the one catching our little Brain.”

By the time he lumbered down the stairs and out the door,
Haley had pulled Trish’s Honda out of the three-car garage. He laid his wife on
the back seat of the Accord. “I’d better ride back here with her. You drive,
Pinky. And be careful.”

“But I’m not legal. Remember, I’m not supposed to drive
before six a.m. on my probationary license.”

“I don’t give a damn. Drive! Hell, I’ll explain to the
police if you get pulled over.”

“All right!” She backed out of the driveway. “But those two
curses cost you fifty cents.”

“
Damn
and
hell
don’t count.”

“They’ll
damn
well
count after Brain gets here,” Trisha muttered through her gritted teeth.

“Well, he isn’t here yet, and he better not arrive until we
get to the hospital.”

“I don’t think I can promise that! Owww! I think he might be
coming.”

“Oh, shit. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.” He ranked
his fingers through his hair. “Whatever you do, don’t push!”

“That’s fifty cents more.” Haley laughed.

He looked around at where they were. “Change of plans,
Pinky. Turn right at the corner. We’re goin’ to the Fosters. They live in the
next subdivision. The first street after you turn, hang a left, and—”

“Relax. I know where their house is.”

Trisha grabbed her stomach again and groaned. “O-oh it
hurts.”

“Focus and take short breaths,
querida
,” he coached her, doing the
he-he-ha
breathing they’d learned in their childbirth classes.

Thirty seconds later, Haley pulled into Matt and Abby’s
driveway.

Justin jumped out of the car, sprinted to the front porch,
and pounded on the door while repeatedly ringing the doorbell.

Several interminable moments passed before Matt opened the
door wearing a T-shirt and a pair of pajama pants, his thinning silver hair
standing on end.

“I need help, Doc. The baby’s comin’ fast, and I have no
idea what to do.”

“First, calm down. I may not have delivered a baby in a few
years, but I still remember how. Abby!” Matt shouted over his shoulder. “Get me
half a dozen clean towels. We have company.” He pointed to Trisha’s car. “Carry
your wife into my kitchen. I’ll get my medical bag.”

As soon as he had Trisha in the house, Matt said, “Lay her
on the towel I spread on the kitchen table.” He chuckled as he scrubbed his
hands at the sink. “Ten years ago, I would’ve delivered Trisha on the floor,
but if I get on my knees this morning, you might need a crane to pick me up.”

“Remember, I own a construction company, Doc. I’ve got you
covered.”

Matt dried his hands, snapped on a pair of latex gloves, and
pushed Trisha’s knees apart. “Let’s see where we’re at here. Justin go stand
behind her and prop up her shoulders.”

Abby dragged a floor lamp in from the family room and
plugged it in. “I figured you could use more light.”

“Good thinking. Thank you, Sunshine.”

Haley laughed beside Trisha. “Sunshine? More light?”

“Oh, yeah. The baby’s crowning.”

“Oh, dear God,”—Trisha bit her lip—“I wanna push so bad.”

Matt smiled and patted her leg. “So what’re you waiting for,
Mama?
Push
already.”

“Oh, thank you.” Her face contorted as she immediately bore
down.

The next two minutes passed in a blur as Matt delivered the
baby’s head and then allowed Trisha to rest for a moment. With the next
contraction, she pushed again to deliver his shoulders. A second later, their
son was out and squalling loud enough to drown out Trisha’s relieved laughter.

“He’s beautiful and healthy,” Matt told them as he suctioned
the baby’s nose and mouth. He wrapped Justin’s son in a soft towel and laid him
in his arms. “You can tell them at the hospital your boy had an Apgar score of
nine.”

Justin stared down at his child and a lump lodged in his
throat. He leaned over and kissed Trisha, rasping, “You got your wish,
sweetheart. He looks exactly like my newborn picture.”

“So in fifteen years, all the girls are gonna be after him.”

“If not sooner.” Abby chuckled next to Matt. “They’re
starting young these days.”

Justin placed his tiny son in the cradle of his mama’s arms.

Haley crept closer and peeked at the baby. “That was
freaking awesome! Wait until Dani hears about this.”

Matt clamped the umbilical cord in two places about an inch
apart and held out a pair of scissors to Justin. “Would you like the honor of
cutting the cord, Dad?”

Justin smiled at Trisha. “I think his big sister should do
that.”

Haley glanced between him and the Fosters and told Matt and
Abby. “I’m really just his godsister.”

“No.” Trisha shook her head. “You’re his big sister in every
way that counts.”

“That’s right,” Justin agreed. “Genes don’t mean anything
when it comes to being a family.” He glanced at the doc and his wife. “Just ask
the Fosters. They have a son who isn’t any relation to them. He even has a
different last name.”

“That’s right,” Abby told her. “You met Royce after the
play. We love him just as much as we do Tom.” She picked up the receiver from
the phone on the wall. “I’ll call for an ambulance.”

Tears glistened in Haley’s eyes as she turned to Trisha and
him. “If I’m the baby’s sister, would it be all right if I call you Mom and
Dad? Otherwise, little Brain might get confused.”

Justin sucked in a breath, struggling to maintain his
composure. He never thought Haley would ever be able or willing to consider him
her dad. Apparently, she’d lost any feeling of disloyalty to her parents, and
felt free to love him and Trisha and consider them her family.

“You mean
Marc
might
get confused,” Trisha corrected.

Haley’s eyes widened. “You’re naming him after my dad?”

For months, he and Trisha had made Haley laugh when they
pretended to argue about names like Icabod, Sigmund, and Horatio. There had
never been any question about what they would name their son.

Justin put his arm around the daughter of his heart. “Yup,
Pinky. His name is Marcus
Nicolàs R
iverá,
after my two best friends.” He took the scissors from Matt and smiled at her.
“What do you say we cut this thing together?”

Haley placed her hand over his as they snipped her brother’s
cord between the two clamps.

Trisha reached out and squeezed her arm. “I hope you
realize, as Marc’s big sister, you’re gonna have to do some free babysitting on
the weekends.”

“Any time.” Haley’s smile immediately drooped as she
obviously realized what she’d committed herself to. “But not if Jamal and I
have a date, all right?”

“Right.” Justin smiled at his wife and the Fosters. “She’s
already trying to weasel out of her sibling responsibility. I’d say that makes
us a bona fide family.”

“Would you like to hold your brother?” Trisha held out the
baby.

Haley didn’t hesitate. She carefully supported Marc’s head
as Trisha transferred him to her arms.

“Hey, I just thought of somethin’ cool, Brain.” Haley smiled
and cooed to her brother, “You and I were both born on a holiday. I only get
chocolate hearts on my birthday, but every year, there’ll be fireworks for
yours.”

They all laughed.

While Matt delivered the afterbirth, Justin leaned over and
kissed Trisha. “Just between you and me, I suspect our daughter is gonna spoil
her brother rotten.”

“That’s good.” She cupped his cheek in her palm. “It’ll
leave you lots of time to continue spoiling me.”

He’d once busted his brother’s
cojones
for constantly indulging his wife’s every whim. Nick had
told Justin he would understand after he was married.

The advice his brother had given at the altar on Justin’s
wedding day had been that he should move heaven and earth to give his wife
whatever she wanted
outside
the
bedroom. That way she’d be only too happy to give him his heart’s desire
in
it.

“That’s right,
mi amor.
”
He kissed her again. “As long as it’s in my power to give it to you, you can
have anything you want.”

“How about another baby? Maybe a little Lindsey?”

“Already?” He rolled his eyes at Matt and laughed. “I think
her labor was much too easy.”

“I’m just good at having babies.” She grinned. “And,
remember, I’m not getting any younger, and I
do
only have one ovary, so I could run out of eggs soon.” She
pulled his head closer, and whispered in his ear, “Besides, I know how much you
love to practice.”

“You know the old saying,
cariño
,”
he murmured as he kissed her. “Practice makes perfect.”

Thank you for reading
Don’t Break My Heart

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