Twice in a Lifetime (Love Found) (11 page)

Ben let his hand drift down to rest on his son. “Think Junior’s going to let us sleep tonight?”

“It would be the first time this week.”

“You look exhausted, babe. Go get off your feet. I’ll have a quick shower and be out in a few minutes.”

She nodded. “I just want something to drink first.”

Padding across the cool tile of the kitchen floor, she removed the iced tea pitcher from the refrigerator. And stopped in her tracks as a gush of warm fluid ran down her bare thighs and soaked her hem.
Seriously
? She didn’t even have to pee. She stared at the wetness surrounding her feet.

The puddle spreading across the floor suddenly took on a whole new meaning. Oh boy! Ohboyohboyohboy! She was having a baby!

“Um, Ben!” Stay calm.
Stay calm
. Did he hear her? She raised her voice. “Honey, can you come here, please?”

Her first contraction ripped through her, much stronger than she’d imagined. “Ben!”
Damn
. She wasn’t going to be one of those hysterical women. She
wasn’t
. But calmness was clearly overrated. She was done with calm. Right now she needed a chauffeur. One who was about to be a daddy. “
Ben
!”

Ben came running, tearing through the apartment with his shirt off, belt flapping. With her chest heaving, a vague hand waved toward the mess on the floor. “I—” Her breath came out in a whisper. “I made a mess.” Oh, Ben. Poor guy. All he wanted was to relax in a hot shower and she was dragging him off to labor and delivery.

Ben took one look at the wet mess on the floor and immediately became a man of action. “Don’t move. I’ll get the mop.” His worried gaze darted around the small room. “Did you drop the pitcher? I don’t see any glass. Are you sure you’re not hurt?” He led her by the shoulders to the nearest chair. “Here, sit while I clean this up for you.” He was really so sweet.

“I didn’t spill the tea.” Women—lots and lots of women—did this every day. Maybe she could stay calm after all. Another contraction snuck up on her and she clenched the seat of the chair in a death grip. She took a deep breath against the pain. Blew it out.

Ben’s gaze swung between the pitcher—still intact—sitting on the table and the splattered mess on the floor. “That’s not tea.” His eyes flew to her, and landed. “Baby?” At her nod he sailed to her side, dropped to his knees beside her. Patted her knee.

Another contraction came, riding the wake of the last one. Already? Was that
normal
?

“What do you need, Allie?”

She could barely breathe and he was asking idiot questions. She unclamped her hands, grabbed fistsful of his shirt and dragged him to her, nose to nose. “Think… I need… hospital.”

Ben’s grin exploded across his face as he bent and swept her into his arms. “Well, okay then, let’s go get Trey.”

Like they were running out for milk.

With a lead weight centered in his chest, Jake parked his truck, squared his shoulders and crossed the threshold of the hospital through wide glass doors. Was it bad, was it
wrong
to dread this day? He found the information desk. “Tate?”

The older woman—a volunteer, according to her name badge—pecked at the keyboard, beamed her response. “Ah, Maternity. Room 334.” And then pointed toward the elevator.

His stomach bottomed out at
maternity
. Jesus. Allie had a baby.

Ben’s baby.

Oh, he’d had months to prepare, sure. Six of them. Fat lot of good that did him. He climbed into the empty car, stabbed the button for three.

His steps slowed as he neared her room. She’d never be his, but until today he could still hope. Still pretend he had a shot. The weight in his chest did a slow slide, landed in his stomach, which was already in knots. Suck it up, Taylor. The voices in his head were ruthless. You want her? Well, this is the all you get. Don’t fuck it up.

Echoes of his footfalls followed him as he searched for the correct room. Halting at the threshold, he planted a grin on his face, popped his head around the doorframe. “I hear somebody had a busy night.” He stepped into the room, was glad he’d chosen the roses, which he slid onto a counter beside two smaller bouquets. “Hi, babe.” He leaned over the hospital bed, kissed Allie’s cheek, checked his breath at the blond-haired angel alert in her arms.

Even as he smoothed a gentle finger over the curling tufts on the baby’s head, nudged him under the chin, he turned to Ben, perched on the edge of the mattress beside Allie. “He’s all red and wrinkly, what’s the matter with him?”

“He’s perfect. He has my eyes.”

Jake snorted. “All babies have blue eyes, dumbshit.”

Allie lifted the bundle toward him. “Do you want to hold him?”

Even in the ugly hospital gown she glowed. And her Mona Lisa smile shook him. If he wasn’t convinced of it before, there was no way around the truth now. Allie was happy with her life—with Ben. And if he wanted to be part of that life he would find a way to be happy for her. “Of course I do.” And he let her settle her son into the crook of his elbow.

His heart, which was at last settled into a smooth and steady rhythm, filled. “Well hello, kid.” He cradled the wriggling baby, rocked him with ease, kissed him gently on his soft little cheek and then rounded a grin on his two best friends. “You did good. I’m impressed.”

“Hey Jake, I need to call in a favor.” Ben’s glance slid to Allie, and then they both turned to him.

With the soft flannel blanket peeled back, Jake paused as he played with tiny fingers, lifted his eyes to Ben, met his amused gleam. “Oh, yeah? What now? I suppose you want time off so you can get in Allie’s way with the baby.”

“Nah, I’ve got something better. We want you to be Trey’s godfather.” He waited a beat, the suggestion of a smirk riding on his smile. “Besides, you got me into this.”

Jake stilled. Was he capable of this? Something—his heart?—lodged in his throat. Could he promise to help raise this child?

The baby was not his, but he was Allie’s. He nestled him closer, humbled by the prospect. When he lowered his eyelids he found he couldn’t shut out the weight of reality. How could he
not
promise? He started to speak, was surprised at the gravel he found in his voice. With a quick cough, he answered. “Yeah. I’d like that a lot.”

Allie melted into the sofa with a sigh of relief and shuffled so the heating pad lay against her lower back. She picked up the photo album she’d set aside earlier and opened it on her lap. The cover was green leather, engraved with Trey’s initials.

There was Trey as a newborn, in his parents’ arms, still at the hospital. Trey at the lake, encased in a life vest so bulky he could barely toddle. She smiled at the memories as she flipped page after page. She came to last summer’s vacation—three days at Disneyland. She studied the pages until at last she came to the end. Trey’s school photo, taken shortly after he entered kindergarten earlier in the fall. His vibrant personality shone through the brilliant blue eyes, so much like his father’s.

The years had passed in a blur. For so long now there had been little to their days but car seats and play dates, lesson plans and blueprints. She set the hefty book on the table beside the sofa and adjusted the heat of the pad. Glanced at the clock. Her men should be home from their soccer game any minute.

Her stomach cramped and her smile dimmed. For five years she’d suffered a brutal monthly reminder that while their life may be full, it wasn’t complete.

The slam of the front door and cleated feet clattered over the tiled entry had her swinging her legs over the edge of the sofa and straightening.

“Mama, Mama! Where are you?”

Ah, she recognized that voice. Loud, enthusiastic, and all boy.
Whoa, champ
echoed mere seconds before she was used as a roadblock.

“Hello, munchkin. How did your game go?” Her smile bloomed without pause. With her arms wrapped around her child she was content.

“Good. Real good. And guess what?”

Her smile broadened. She was quite familiar with the question-and-answer type conversations of a five year old. “What?”

Trey’s face exploded in a grin. “We won! And our whole team got a trophy and a juice box.” He shoved the award in her face. “Even Daddy, and even Uncle Jake, ‘cause they’re the coach.
And
Jax.
And
Jimmy. ‘Cause they’re on my team, too!”

“Wow!” She earnestly inspected the trophy. “Aren’t you the lucky one?”

“Yep, I’m the lucky one.” Trey grinned, spared her a quick hug, reclaimed his prize and shot through the house in a burst of little boy energy.

Ben folded himself onto the edge of the sofa, gentled a hand over his wife’s back. “I’d say all is well in his world.”

Allie pulled her eyes from the hallway. The heat and his hands united to ease her discomfort. At his snort she grinned into his shoulder. “At least through first grade, Coach Dad.”

Allie sat up in the dark. A slash of light from the hallway fell across the foot of the bed where the covers were thrown back.

“We’ve discussed this a million times, Allie.” The hissed words were angry and tired from overuse. “Now is not a good time. We’re not ready.”

“You mean
you’re
not ready.” But the ticking in her heart thundered. “Dammit, Ben, Trey’s
five
. If we’re going to have another baby, I’d like it to be soon.” She was overcome by a swift and sudden resentment, an emotion that had been rearing its ugly head quite often lately. “Quit worrying about everything.”

Ben stood at the foot of the bed and matched her glare. “Look, I take care of Trey as much as you do, and we’re both dog-assed tired at the end of the day. How are we supposed to find enough time to take care of another kid, too?”

There was a new sense of urgency tonight. An unmistakable desperation in their words that frightened her. She climbed off the bed, brushed past him as she marched to the open doorway, shot out an arm toward the closed door across the hall. “We both love that kid asleep in there, and we
make
time for him. Just like we would make time for any other children. Just like we make time for anything important.”

Ben paced the room, his strides eating up the carpet. “Think about the expense of a new baby. Remember how much everything cost when Trey was born? Diapers and formula and all the other shit we’d need. What are you willing to give up so we can afford all that again?”

The repetition was exhausting, and her shoulders slumped. “Look around, Ben.” She spread her arms in helpless frustration. “What don’t we have?” Their life wasn’t extravagant, but they each had new vehicles, they took a family vacation each July, Trey was enrolled in a private school. She’d give it all up for one more mouth to feed.

Ben seemed to hesitate, then took a different tack. “You say you love him. What if we had another baby? How do you know you have enough love for two kids?”

Enough for
him
, is that what he wanted to know? She sank back onto the edge of the bed. Leveled her voice, refused to let the panic slither in. “Come on, Ben. Love doesn’t divide itself when it’s shared. Love multiplies.”

Ben halted and leveled a long stare in her direction. He retrieved today’s jeans from the floor, shoved into them as he muttered. “I’m tired of this bullshit. You don’t understand.” A quick step to the closet and he threw a shirt across his shoulders. “I can’t take that chance.” With a sweeping glance he marched from the room. Moments later the front door slammed.