Nameless Series Boxed Set (14 page)

So she asked,
“Do you have a bellybutton fetish I didn’t know about before?”

He jerked a
little, and his hand stilled on her stomach. “Sorry. Wasn’t paying attention.”

She shrugged it
off and suddenly felt compelled to know more about what he was thinking. “Seth?
Seriously. Can you tell me what you really think about this?”

Seth answered
immediately, and his voice sounded a little confused. “It’s not a big deal. Certainly
not a fetish. It just feels different than it did before, and I found it rather
fascinating. So I just started playing with it without thinking.”

It took Erin a
minute to figure out what he was talking about. Then she released a hoarse
burst of laughter. “No. Not my bellybutton. I’d switched topics. Try to keep
up.” She swallowed hard. Tried again. “I meant, can you tell me how you really
feel about all of
this
?” This time, she waved her hand over the two of
them, trying to encapsulate their partnership in this pregnancy through the one
gesture.

“This?” he
prompted, his body getting stiffer and his voice becoming wary.

“The baby. Your
involvement. Everything.”

Seth’s body
actually relaxed a little, and Erin wondered what he’d initially thought she
was asking. It occurred to her that he might have thought she was trying to pin
him down on their sexual relationship. Maybe he’d thought she was about to
demand a wedding ring or something.

The thought
made her a little queasy.

She’d never
wanted to marry Seth, and she knew he didn’t want to marry her. They were both
far too practical and realistic for such things.

Taking comfort
in that thought, she pursued her original question. “You’ve been great about
everything. Supportive and helpful and going well beyond the call of duty.” Her
voice lifted at the end, making it clear that she was teasing him on the
subject of his willingness to meet her physical needs. “But this came out of
nowhere for you. Just as much as it has for me. And I’ve had some trouble
adjusting.” She was too nervous to look back at him, so instead she tried to
read his mood from the feel of his body. Couldn’t. “I just can’t believe that
you’re having such an easy time with it.”

“It’s not easy,”
he admitted.

She didn’t
respond immediately, mostly because she didn’t know what to say.

After a minute,
he continued, “I don’t know anything about family or having a child or…or
anything.” He paused for a speaking moment. “I don’t want to blow it.”

She was oddly
touched by the halting admission—which she’d never expected to hear from
him—and she snuggled back against him instinctively.

Then the feel
of him changed, and his tone shifted, becoming much more like his confident,
matter-of-fact self. “But that’s not anything major. It’s not the same as you.
Your involvement in this is far greater than mine is. You’re carrying her, and
you'll be raising her. She’ll be a Marshall baby, not a Thomas baby. Right?”

Erin cringed as
she heard her words from five months ago. “Yes. But she’s still your daughter. If
you want to talk about things, or if you have any concerns, I’d want to hear
them.”

“You’ll hear my
relevant concerns as they arise.”

And that was no
answer at all.

Erin made a
face, but didn’t push him, even though she was disappointed that, after
starting to open up, he’d withdrawn immediately.

Seth had no
reason to confide in her, and it was silly to even want him to. Things were
working out very well as they were. No use to rock the boat and make things
either complicated or conflicted between them.

“Okay. That
makes sense,” she said lightly.

His hand was
still on her belly, strangely protective. She was sure it was an unconscious
gesture, and she tried not to read too much into it.

Even so, it
made her kind of jittery.

“I don’t know
if I can be a father,” Seth said at last, his voice cooler than it had been. “But
I’d like to try, since this might be my only chance.”

“You are a
father. You’re
her
father. Most of the time, I’m terrified about
everything that’s happening. And the fact that things are kind of atypical
between us doesn't make it any clearer. But it doesn’t really matter if we
don’t have a normal, traditional situation here. We’re in it, so we might as
well make the best of it.”

Their daughter
kicked again, as if in response. Erin hoped that she wasn’t planning on moving
around all night, since sometimes the constant movement of the baby made it
hard for her to sleep.

“True.” After a
moment, he added, “But you have more reason to be terrified than I do. I’m
going to be involved, but not to the same extent as you.”

His words were
simple, brisk, impersonal.

Suddenly Erin
understood. She
knew
why Seth had been able to be so calm and rational
about something so big. She knew why Seth was able to remain both distant and
supportive. Why he hadn’t pulled away or protected himself, despite the fears
he’d just half-voiced. Why he hadn’t tried to take control the way she’d
expected him to.

He was trying
to do this halfway. Be a father, be involved in his daughter’s life, but not
take it on completely. He had hopes of still being distant enough to keep his
life as it always was—with just the added benefit of a child to call his own,
but to whom he didn’t have to give anything he didn't want to give.

It was a
natural reaction and an understandable one. Given the situation. Seth wasn’t in
control of this—Erin had made that crystal clear—but he wanted some sort of
involvement.

So he was
trying to limit his emotions accordingly.

Part of her
wished she had the option to do such a thing. It would be so much safer. So
much easier.

But then she felt
her daughter kick again and knew it would be impossible.

She could never
have done this halfway. She was in it completely, even as it was transforming
her entire life.

Maybe it was
different with men—or maybe it was just different with Seth. She didn’t know.

Sighing, Erin
tried to relax. “Do you want to spend the night?” she asked casually, glancing
back at him.

He didn’t
answer immediately. Then finally he said, a little diffidently, “If you don’t
mind, maybe I will.”

“Sure,” she
replied, something both heavy and even more jittery rising up in her chest. “You’re
more than welcome after your performance earlier.”

She felt him
smiling behind her, but the mood wasn’t as light as it had been. Erin wondered
what he was thinking. Wondered if she would ever know.

His hand was
still on her belly, and she wondered if he was planning to move it.

“Does she do
this all night?” he asked, after the baby gave another firm kick.

“Sometimes. She’s
quite an active little creature.”

Seth was silent
for a long time, but then he finally said, “Well, we both know where she gets
that from.”

She laughed and
then got up to go to the bathroom.

When she returned,
Seth scooted over and switched off the lamp, and then he pulled up the covers
over them both.

Neither said
goodnight. They just lay there in the dark.

Erin dozed in
and out of sleep, but she didn’t know whether Seth slept at all.

She did know,
when she got up three times during the night to go to the bathroom, he was
awake each time to ask if everything was all right.

Erin felt like she was going to
die, and it wasn’t even an exaggeration.

She was hit
with a brutal wave of heat, causing her to break out in a new layer of clammy
perspiration. Then she felt a familiar flood of instinctive panic. Then a heavy
heaving of her stomach.

“Oh, God,” she
moaned, her parched lips cracking as she tried to move them.

Erin lifted her
head with the little energy she had left and managed to pull her shoulders up
enough to reach the little, plastic trash can that had been placed beside her
bed.

She started
retching, in painful, ugly, mostly dry heaves that felt like they ripped her
apart.  She’d emptied her stomach long ago, and all that was left to come up
was the little bit of water she’d tried to drink earlier.

Her large belly
was cumbersome and in the way and made the whole thing even more unbearable. When
she finished, she was drenched with sweat, her nose was running, and tears streamed
down her cheeks.

Her hair stuck
uncomfortably to her wet face, and she had the worst taste in her mouth she
could ever remember. But she couldn’t seem to find the energy to push her hair
back. Could barely even lick her lips.

Then a hand
came out of nowhere to move the trash can out of the way, and a cool, wet
washcloth materialized to wipe her face. A gentle, male voice drifted into her
foggy mind, saying silly things like, “It’s all right. You’re okay.”

She didn’t
feel
okay, but she was infinitely glad to hear the familiar voice. She collapsed
back onto the bed, shivering so much now that her teeth chattered. “Oh, God,”
she moaned again, trying to curl up into the fetal position but unable to
because of her ungainly belly. “Oh, God.”

“I know, baby,”
the voice said again. “I know.”

She felt so
intensely miserable that she couldn’t help but choke on a few little sobs. She felt
like she was five years old again. “Dad, please, I want it to stop.”

Her father
wiped her face once more, his expression strained and almost helpless. “I wish
I could make it stop.” Since she was shivering, he pulled up some of the
blankets she’d pushed down a few minutes earlier because they'd been making her
too hot. “If you’ll let me take you to the—”

“No,” she
interrupted, taking a few deep breaths and trying to pull herself together. She
was an adult. Not a child. She needed to act like one, no matter how horrible
she felt. “I’m okay. I’ve just got a virus from hell. No reason to go to the
hospital because of a stupid stomach bug.”

She stretched
out on the bed and tried to assess how she felt. She’d been vomiting for what
seemed like ages now, but it really hadn’t been more than a few hours.

“If you can’t
stop throwing up, I’ll have to take you. You can’t get dehydrated. The baby—”

“I know,” she
cut in again, trying not to snap at her dad since he was obviously worried and
worn out. “You know I won’t be so stubborn that I’d hurt the baby. I think I
feel a little better now, after that last time, but if it doesn’t get better,
I’ll go to the emergency room. I promise.”

Her father’s face
relaxed some, and he picked up the trash can to clean it out again.

Erin squeezed
her eyes shut as he left her.

She didn’t know
what she would have done if he hadn’t been here. They’d been going to have
dinner together this evening, but instead he’d gotten stuck with nurse’s
duties.

Poor thing.

She felt so
weak and exhausted that she could barely move, but her stomach had settled down
a little. Maybe she was feeling better.

Maybe the worst
was over.

It seemed like
the height of injustice that she should have been slammed with this illness
while she was seven months pregnant, after having thrown up for the whole first
trimester. Being pregnant made all of this feel even worse. Fortunately, her
daughter seemed to be sleeping at the moment, although Erin didn’t know how she
could sleep with all that vomiting.

Poor thing.

Since her
stomach was somewhat stable, Erin reached over to the cup of chipped ice her
dad had gotten for her from a market down the street. She knew she needed to
keep hydrated, but it was difficult when she couldn’t keep anything down.

But maybe she
could keep one tiny piece of ice down.

She took a
little piece and started to suck on it slowly, and even that slightest bit of
moisture felt wonderful in her nasty, parched mouth.

After a minute,
when nothing horrible happened from that one little piece of chipped ice, Erin
took another piece. Sucked on that one too.

It was several
minutes before her dad returned, and Erin was starting to wonder where he’d
gotten to when he finally came back into the darkened room.

“How are you
doing?” he asked softly, coming over to sit on the chair next to her bed. He
hadn’t brought back the little trash can, which immediately raised Erin’s
guard.

Something had
happened.

“Okay. I’ve had
four little pieces of ice.”

He smiled
fondly. “Good for you.”

When he didn’t
continue, Erin shifted uncomfortably. “What? Just say it.”

“How would you
feel about seeing Seth?”

She gasped and
felt her stomach churn. Getting nervous, she made herself breathe deeply and
relax.

She really
didn’t want to throw up again.

“No,” she said,
her voice rather shrill. “I don’t want to see him. Did he call? Tell him to
stay away.”

“Too late. He’s
here now.”

“Oh, God. He
can’t come in here.” The room was disgusting, smelled like vomit. Erin herself
was a wreck, and the last thing she wanted to see was Seth and his cool,
sophisticated gorgeousness.

“He wants to
see how you are. I’m afraid he’s going to be stubborn about it.”

“No,” Erin
began weakly. Wondered if she could be strong enough to insist.

“Your father is
right.” It was Seth’s voice, coming from just outside her bedroom. “You might
as well let me in now. I’m not going away.”

Erin groaned
and closed her eyes, but made an assenting gesture to her dad to let him know Seth
could come in. She just didn’t have the energy to fight it right now.

Things had been
a little strange the morning after they'd had sex last month. Nothing definite,
but they'd both been quiet and reserved the next morning. Hadn't talked to each
other for a few days afterwards.

So she hadn’t
called him up for sex again.

He had his
life, and Erin had hers. But she was confident that they’d be able to cooperate
in regards to their baby, and she wasn’t going to mess that up for more sex.

She liked Seth,
she'd discovered somewhere along the way.

But that didn't
mean she wanted to see him when she was a sick, pathetic mess.

“Please tell me
you didn’t call him,” she muttered to her father, wanting to pull the covers up
over her head.

“Of course, I
didn’t.”

“I called
earlier,” Seth explained coolly as he entered. “Your father said you were a
little under the weather.” He scanned her with sharp scrutiny, and Erin
momentarily felt like she was one of his cases—his expression was so clinical
and distant.

It made her
immediately huffy.

Even more when
he continued, “You appear to be a little more than under the weather. Why
didn’t you let me know?”

This was just
outrageous. Here she was, on the verge of collapse, and he was reproaching her
for not informing him of every detail of her status. “Why would I have told
you?”

“We’ve been
doing this for six months now. You know very well that I want to be involved in
this pregnancy.”

“This isn’t about
the pregnancy,” she said, thinking it would be nice if he could manage to smile
or look sympathetic. Or do anything other than look at her coldly. “I have a
stomach bug. It happens. It’s no big deal.”

Seth drew his
brows together and turned toward her father. “How long has she been sick?”

“She was sick
in bed when I came by at six this evening. She’s been sick ever since.”

Erin grunted. “Don’t
make it sound like that. It hasn’t been
that
long. I was feeling bad
this afternoon. Then I got back from work and started throwing up. It’s not
that strange.”

“How often does
she vomit?” Seth again questioned her father instead of her.  In fact, he
seemed now to be ignoring her existence.

“It varies. She
can’t keep anything down. Even sips of water. She’s gone a half-hour between
vomiting at times, but sometimes it’s more often. It’s been dry heaves for a
while now.”

“Eh,” Erin
choked indignantly. She really wasn’t feeling good now and wished she hadn’t
sucked on the chipped ice. She couldn’t manage to object any more substantially
than that one monosyllable, so she breathed deeply instead.

Hoped she'd
gotten her point across.

“I’ve wanted to
take her to the emergency room for the last hour, but, you know her. She’s
stubborn. In another hour, I would have insisted, whether she wants to or not. I
think she’s getting dehydrated.”

Seth pressed
his lips together, looking far too slick for a sick room in his black suit and favorite
blue tie. “I’d like to take her
now
, if you have no objections.”

Her father
actually looked relieved. “No objections from me.”

“I’m sick. Not
deaf. Stop talking like I’m not here.” Then she put a hand on her stomach as it
started to feel rather unsettled again.

Her father
glanced over at her. “I’ll go rinse out the trash can.”

Seth knelt
beside the bed in a way Erin didn't like at all. It put him right in her face. “Erin,
if you’re dehydrated, you need to go to the emergency room to get fluids.”

“I know,” she
croaked, her wailing earlier having taken too much out of her. “But there’s no
reason to jump the gun. I’m not someone who runs to the hospital at the drop of
a hat. I'm not just being stubborn. It hasn’t been
that
long.”

Honestly, she
couldn’t remember how long it had been, and she didn’t have the energy to turn
over to even look at the clock.

Seth’s face
showed no emotion. “It’s been long enough, and what if it’s not just a stomach
virus? What if it’s food poisoning?”

Erin hadn’t
even thought of that. The idea made her panic momentarily. She tried to think. “I
haven’t eaten anything unusual. I’ve been...real careful...about what I eat...since...pregnant.”

“I believe you,
but sometimes being careful isn’t enough.”

Erin didn’t
respond, although she wanted to slap the cool, impersonal look off his face. Who
did he think he was, coming in here and bossing her around, without even
appearing to care about how miserable she was?

But she was
starting to feel dizzy again, and she was beginning to think that Seth and her
father were probably right about getting medical attention. She didn’t think
she had food poisoning, but she was really, really thirsty. Maybe she
was
getting dehydrated.

Being stubborn
was one thing, but she wasn’t about to risk harming her baby because of it.

No matter how infuriating
it was having to submit to Seth’s arrogant demands.

She was growing
really hot again and automatically pushed down her covers in frustration.

“Erin?” Seth
had stood up, as if he’d known she was caving, but now he just stared at her.

Erin, however,
couldn't answer. She was washed with waves of heat and dizziness, and his face began
to blur in front of her eyes.

She put a hand
on the large curve of her abdomen. “Oh, God,” she groaned, praying she wasn’t
going to be sick again. Not in front of Seth. She breathed deeply, trying to
force the nausea down.

“Erin?” Seth’s
voice again.

She ignored it.
Couldn’t even process it. Jerked her upper body up a little and leaned over the
side of the bed, as much as she could with her belly always getting in the way.
“Oh, God. Oh, no. Dad!”

“I’m here,” he
said, returning to the room with the plastic trash can, which he’d rinsed out. “Here
it is.”

He positioned
the trash can for her, and Erin felt the familiar heaving, the wash of
instinctive panic. “Seth, might...leave.”

Seth didn’t
leave. He just stood there watching as she began to retch again, heaving
nothing but bitter bile into the trash can.

Erin couldn't
remember ever being this miserable and mortified.

Seth Thomas
watching her puke.

When her
vomiting finally stopped, she was sobbing again. Couldn’t seem to stop.

“Erin?” Seth
prompted softly. His face hadn’t changed at all. He might have been sitting in
a deposition.

She nodded,
snuffling messily. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Her father
picked up the trash can. “Here,” he said, handing Seth the wet washcloth he
used to wipe her face. “I’ll be right back.”

Seth looked
down at the washcloth blankly, as if he had no idea what to do with it. Despite
her misery, Erin snorted at his cluelessness.

Then her
amusement faded as she realized she was going to have to try to get up and get
down to the car. Sick, weak, vomiting, and seven months pregnant.

Seth shook
himself off a little and handed Erin the washcloth. Of course. She’d never
expected him to actually wipe her face with it himself.

She rubbed the
damp cloth over her face and pushed her hair back behind her ears. Breathed a
couple of times and tried to pull herself together. “You’re going to have to
help me,” she warned him.

“Of course. Can
you sit up?”

She nodded,
more confidently than she felt. She managed to haul herself up, though, and swung
her legs over the edge of the bed.

Immediately
dizzy, she sucked in long breaths, willing down the sudden hot flash and the
spinning room.