Dream Nights With the CEO (15 page)

“There’s a lot more to raising a child than changing her diaper and giving her a bottle every once in a while.”

“I know,” Megan said, pieces of her childhood falling into place.
Poor Mom
, she thought, as she watched Grandma grunt in satisfaction now that the baby was quiet. Then the woman grabbed her drink—empty now—and walked out. The door closed behind her with a very loud
click
.

Megan reached out, her heart breaking. She wished she could just touch her mother. She wanted to stroke the tiny girl’s cheek, give the woman some affection. Something.

But she couldn’t. This was a scene from the past and it was quite the eye-opener. Sure she’d known her grandmother had been an alcoholic. She’d even guessed or been told about the neglect somewhere along the way. But to see it happen right in front of her hit hard. Her mom’s childhood had been horrendous. No wonder the woman was all about husband and family. She always said, nothing was right in her life until Megan’s dad came into the picture.

And then her father had died, and her mother was back to this. Well, not really. Grandma was gone; Mom was certainly not a helpless baby. But the woman probably still felt like an abandoned child left alone in a crib. “It’s okay,” Wyatt said to the girl as he placed his hand over hers against the barrier. And somewhere on the other side, the child looked up. She saw them both standing there and smiled.

Then everything faded away.

The dream was over. Megan was waking up. She hated leaving at that moment and yet was perversely relieved. She felt Wyatt stirring beside her. His hand tightened on her belly, his face nuzzled into her neck.

She stroked his fingers, her mind stirring with the memory of what she’d seen. It had been a dream, she knew, but it was crystal clear in her memory. So she mulled over the pieces, studying each little bit in her mind.

It was a few minutes before she realized Wyatt was awake. He looked at her seriously, not moving, not speaking. In the end, he kissed her shoulder.

“Did you dream what I did?” he asked.

“My mom. Grandma. Not the way to—”

“To raise a child. No.”

She sighed, pushing up in bed. She shoved her hair out of her face and heard her stomach rumble. Beside her, Wyatt swung his feet out from under the blanket.

“What time is it?” he asked. “I’m hungry.”

Megan smiled. In her experience, guys were always hungry. But in this case, she couldn’t help but agree. She hadn’t had the most sustaining dinner.

“We could go out,” Wyatt said. “Assuming something’s open. Or…” he said as he picked up an old pizza box. Then with a dramatic flair, he flipped the lid open. “There’s always last night’s pepperoni.”

She smiled. She’d had her share of cold pizza, and though it wasn’t her first choice, it would certainly do for the moment. She pushed to her feet and padded barefoot over to his side. Then she got one look at the cold mass. Congealed oil lay thick over the pepperoni. The bread was hard, the cheese greasy and…

Her stomach rebelled. She gasped, trying to hold back the tide, but there was no stopping it.

One second: rumbling stomach.

Next second: she hurled.

Chapter Fourteen

“I got it,” Wyatt said, lurching to help. He’d never seen a woman go from fine to ill so fast. At least she’d stopped throwing up. Truthfully, there hadn’t been that much in her stomach. So she just stood there, swaying slightly.

“Wyatt—”

“Not a word. You just sit. I’ll clean.”

She nodded weakly, but still made to grab a paper towel. He took it from her hand and firmly settled her on the beanbag chair. Fortunately, clean up wouldn’t be so bad. The blanket caught the worst of it and that he threw in the washing machine. Not so easy was the thought of
why
she might have thrown up. He glanced at her pale face. Her color was coming back, though he saw panic in her gaze. He was sure it was mirrored in his own. So he made quick work of grabbing a large garbage bag to toss the pizza and anything that might smell. Within five minutes, everything was back to normal. Except for the fear in Megan’s eyes.

“So,” she eventually murmured. “That happened.”

“Uh, yeah. Have you been feeling ill lately?”

“No,” she whispered. “Well, maybe a little queasy sometimes.”

He’d guess it was a lot queasy given her reaction to the day old pizza. “It’s probably just the flu.” He said the words, but in his gut, he didn’t believe it.

“Yeah,” she echoed. “The flu.”

He looked again at her face. Clearly, she didn’t believe it either. They were both thinking about the night they’d woken up in bed together. They didn’t know if they’d had real sex or just dream sex. And if it had been real, they sure as hell hadn’t used any type of protection. Which meant pregnancy was a very real option.

“Look…”

She held up her hand. “Let’s not speculate, okay? I’ve been in denial land about this, but I think I’m out now. I’ll stop at a pharmacy on the way home. I’ll pick up a…” She closed her eyes. Apparently the word “pregnancy” was too hard to say at the moment. “A test. Then I’ll take it, and we’ll just see.”

“Okay. Um…do you mind if…” He paused, then shrugged. If she were pregnant, he wanted to be there every step of the way. From the purchase of the test, to the results, through the decisions afterwards. No way was he bailing on her now. “I’d like to go with you. I… um… I’d just really like to be there.”

She looked at him, and he was pleased to see some of the panic recede from her eyes. “I’d like that, too.”

So it was decided.

Ever efficient, she found a drug store near his loft. Everything was accomplished within a few moments, though they did have a minor tussle over who would pay for the test. He won. There wasn’t a lot he could do for her. After all, it was her body that was…changing. Potentially. The least he could do was take care of the money.

Then she was showing him into her apartment on the fifth floor of a complex in a relatively safe neighborhood. Not bad, but too far from where he was currently living. If she did decide to keep the baby—assuming there was one—then he’d want one of them to relocate.

Would a child of theirs like comics? Would it have her lush curls? Be athletic like her? Or a nerd child like him?

“Have a seat,” she said, gesturing to the couch. “I’m just going to change clothes and…” She looked at the package in her hand.

“Do you want me to… I don’t know, read the directions or something?”

She shook her head. “I got it.”

“I… Okay.” He sat down and folded his hands. His thoughts were going a mile a minute, but he kept them to himself. He knew she needed space right now. She’d stiffened every time he’d tried to touch her. She hadn’t flinched away, thank God, but she’d gone rigid. So he’d kept a step apart, always willing to lend a hand but not actually connecting.

Meanwhile, she paused right at the door to her bedroom. “I… Wyatt, I just need to take a minute, okay?”

“I know. Whatever you need.”

She flashed him a grateful smile. “You’re being very supportive, and I realize that. I’m not trying to shut you out. I just—”

He was standing in front of her in two seconds. Her eyes huge, and her body trembled. He knew that because he was cupping her chin and he could feel the nervous shakes she was holding back by sheer will power alone.

“It’ll be okay,” he said. Then he slowly lowered his lips to hers. He pressed a kiss to her mouth, making sure it was slow but no less thorough. And when he straightened, he was pleased to see a slightly dazed cast to her expression. “We’ll do it together.”

“—Together.” She spoke at the same moment he did. Then they both smiled.

Then her expression slid back to serious. “I know you’re thinking things. I can see the look.”

He frowned. “The look?”

“Yeah. You get this intense look and your hand twitches.”

He jerked his hands back. “It does not.”

“It does. It’s usually my signal to pull out a pad and paper and start taking notes. I’ve got about ninety seconds before you start to blow.”

“Not true!”

She smiled. “It is true, but you’re holding it back for my sake.” She stretched up on her toes and pressed another kiss to his lips. “I just wanted you to know that I’m grateful.”

“I don’t want you to be grateful, Megan. I want…” His words choked off. He wasn’t sure what he wanted just yet. And even if he was, now wasn’t the time to share it. So he forced himself to take a step back. “I want you to do what you need to do. I’ll wait here for whenever you’re ready.”

She nodded, then a moment later, she disappeared into her bedroom. She closed the door quietly but the click sounded very loud to Wyatt. And then he was alone with his thoughts.

Not a good thing. Worries started whirling around his brain. What if she insisted on aborting? It would kill him. He didn’t want to get rid of a child. Certainly not
her
child, to say nothing of his own. He started marshaling arguments in his mind. Genetically speaking, aborting would be a crime. With two intelligent, capable parents, the baby could very well be brilliant. What if it cured cancer? Or solved the Internet piracy issue?

He started pacing, needing to work off some of his extra energy. He took the time looking at her apartment. It was small but neat as a pin. And it was decorated with a zillion pictures. Snapshots mostly, collages done in big and little frames.

Looking closer, he saw her entire life done in family and friends. Parents and two brothers in a variety of different vacation or holiday shots. He saw her swim teams, her high school proms, and a thousand different weekend parties. He saw her laughing, he saw her dancing, he saw her winning. He studied her friends as they tickled her, her brothers as they mock strangled her, and her parents as they looked on beaming. Or they did up until a few years ago when her father disappeared from the photos and her mother took on a lost and bitter cast.

Wyatt inspected every picture, and then he did it again. Such a happy childhood filled with people. And such a stark contrast to his own. Oh certainly, he’d been fed and clothed. But whereas Megan had clearly been surrounded by friends, Wyatt had been closeted in his room reading comics. He’d preferred it that way and no one in his family had pushed him to be any different.

Which left his man cave filled with comics and not a single photo. Compared to the smiles that surrounded him on every side here, his childhood seemed bereft. And he hadn’t even realized the lack until now.

He wanted this life for his child. The laughter, the people, the mosaic of happy times. He couldn’t remake his own childhood, but he could share in a life like this one. A happy life. A—

“It’s done. Now we’ve got to wait a moment.”

He spun around, seeing her drawn expression. She’d cleaned up. Was now wearing sweats and had her hair back in a ponytail. But what he saw most was the way she looked to him for support. Her skin was pale, but her eyes met his and held.

He crossed to her and wrapped his arms around her. She sighed—a pleased sound—and dropped her head on his chest.

“I love that you’re so big,” she said. “And you’re gentle, too. I feel like nothing can hurt me when we’re like this.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “If I could be a superhero, I’d spend every second protecting you.”
And our child.

She pressed a kiss to his chest, and he closed his eyes to enjoy the moment. He was holding her. She loved the way he felt around her. And in this moment before the news everything was perfect.

“We probably have the results now,” she murmured against his skin.

He swallowed. “Want to look together?”

She pushed back, her gaze going to his. “Yeah. Together.”

So he took her hand—the one holding the stick—and as she twisted in his arms, they both lifted it up to the light.

Positive.

Megan was pregnant.

Chapter Fifteen

Megan’s hand began to shake, but thanks to Wyatt’s supporting grip, she didn’t drop the stick. Not that it mattered, but somehow adding mess to terror was just not something she wanted right now.

She was pregnant
.

He wasn’t saying anything. Not surprising as she had no words either. She would almost form a thought, and then she’d see the little plus sign again and panic would make everything flee. Her thoughts, her hopes, even her feelings for Wyatt… They just ran away.

His presence strengthened her. The way he surrounded her body seemed to grow larger and tighter. More reassuring. She was grateful for that, and yet a second later, it became too much.

A baby. She was going to have a baby.

She felt nausea close down her throat.

“It’ll be okay, Megan. We’ll work it out.”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she quietly set down the strip on the counter and turned to flee. All her thoughts were gone, why not her body? “I’m going to take a shower. We can talk afterwards, okay?”

Wyatt nodded. “Whatever you need.”

She paused a moment, struggling for the words. But only one bounced around her brain:
baby
. And she wasn’t going to say that aloud.

Wyatt stroked her cheek. “It’s okay. Take your shower.”

She closed her eyes, existing with the heat of his body, the caress of his fingers. But that word “baby” kept bothering her, keeping her from remaining here. So she said a different word.

“Shower.”

“Yes.”

She fled to the bathroom. Hot water. Shampoo. The normal routine of morning. It was soothing in its way, but not enough. And by the time the water had run ice cold, she was no nearer to a solution.

Pregnant.

She wasn’t ready for a baby, but then again, was anyone? She thought about her career. They’d just bought Miranda’s Place. Would she be able to manage the renovations pregnant? With an infant? Sure, lots of people were single mothers, but it was so hard. And she didn’t know anyone in St. Louis. She’d be all alone down there.

They hadn’t ever talked about kids. Their romantic relationship was so new, they’d barely talked about anything. She knew he was a solid, dependable guy. He certainly had enough money to support a family. But did he want to? He’d said they’d figure it out together, but what if he asked her to abort? She couldn’t imagine getting rid of someone created in love.

And it was love between her and Wyatt. Well, at least on her end. Truthfully, she’d been in love with the man within a month of working for him. He was everything she wanted in a guy: good looking, brilliant, and had the ability to follow-through. And last night’s love-making had taken her feelings to a whole new level. But what if the feelings were one sided? She flinched at the idea of him breaking it off. Cutting off their romance would be hard enough, but what if he didn’t want a pregnant woman working at Miranda’s Place? He wouldn’t fire her, would he? Of course not. She was being ridiculous.

She touched her belly, fighting the urge to grip it tight. Already, she was fighting for her child. She’d only just realized she was pregnant, but suddenly she was willing to fight to the death to give it a good life. And if that meant defying Wyatt and striking out on her own, then so be it.

Except, she realized, no one was throwing her out. No one was firing her. And truth be told, he kept saying “together.” So that meant she was creating fears out of nothing. Which meant…

It was time to get out of the bathroom.

Suddenly determined, she pulled on her clothes and went into her living room. He was standing there holding one of her photos. Honestly, you couldn’t stand anywhere in her apartment without looking at photos, but he seemed especially intent on this one.

She stepped closer, trying to see what he was looking at. Then she smiled, remembering the day that picture was taken. They’d been at the
Ripley’s Believe It Or Not
museum in Orlando, Florida.

“That was the most awful vacation,” she said. “It rained the whole time. Sure, there was plenty to do inside, but my brothers wanted the amusement parks. Instead, we went to that museum.”

He held up the picture. It had been done with a special process such that two photos were superimposed, one on top of the other. Hold the picture in one light and you saw the five of them looking all serious. Shift your wrist a little, and you saw everyone macking on everyone else. Well, at least the three kids. Her parents had just looked at each other and kissed.

One way: family portrait. The other way: real life family.

She touched it, shifting so she could look at her parents kissing. “I’d forgotten how happy they were together.”

“They were in love?”

“Very. But then there was that damned car accident…” Her voice trailed away. That’s when everything changed. Her father was dead. All three kids had thrown themselves into sports, finding surrogate fathers in their coaches. Then they were off to college while their mother grieved alone.

She saw that now. Odd how that had nothing to do with the crisis at hand, but right now, she was thinking of her mother. The woman had created a happy home for herself. That was a miracle all its own given the horror of the woman’s childhood. But then she’d lost everything in one fatal car crash. And now she was alone and bitterly manipulative as a way to hold on to her youngest child. Or perhaps she simply wanted her daughter to find the happiness the same way she had: with a good husband and children. Megan closed her eyes, pressing her palms to her eyelids. It was too much to think about, too much to process. Her mother on top of all of this? She couldn’t do it.

“Hey, I’m hungry,” Wyatt said. “Want to go out for pancakes? We can talk then. With coffee.”

“A Mai Tai would be better,” she joked. Then she bit her lip. She wouldn’t be drinking any alcohol for the next nine months. Longer if she nursed the baby. Megan swallowed. “Yeah. Omelet. Muffin. Coffee. Not necessarily in that order.”

He smiled and held out his hand. She took it and was reassured as her smaller hand disappeared into his much larger one. He was big and solid, and it would be all right.

“I’m going to keep the child,” she blurted. Then she clapped a hand over her mouth.

He froze, his gaze locking onto hers.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to just say it like that. But… I’m not sorry I said it. You need to understand how I feel.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

He let out a slow breath, and as he released it, his shoulders dropped about two inches. “Thank God. I didn’t know what I’d do if you insisted on aborting. I… I want this child, Megan. I want to be a father. I want to give your baby a home like you had.”

She tilted her head in confusion. “Like I had? Five people in a tiny house constantly worried about money?”

“No,” he said. “Happy. A happy home filled with people.” He picked up the dual photo again and tilted it to show her the goofy one. “You were happy here. All of you were.”

“Until my dad died,” she said softly.

“We can’t control that stuff. But the rest…” He slowly reached forward, his motion gentle as he set his fingers on her belly. “I want this child to be happy. I want to help make it happen for her and for you.”

“And if he’s a boy?”

“Well, I can geek out with the best of ‘em.” He abruptly grinned. “I’ll take him to his first comic book store.”

She grinned, the weight of the world slipping from her shoulders. He wanted the child. And he wanted to be part of the baby’s life. All the rest could be worked out.

“You’re not going to fire me, are you? You’re going to let me work at Miranda’s Place just like we planned, right?”

He reared back. “Fire you? Hell, no. I’m going to need money. Which means I need you to turn that place around pronto.” Then his expression shifted into a frown. “But, I’m not sure about you being all alone in Missouri.”

“I’ll make friends,” she said by way of reassuring herself. “I can always find help if I need it.”

His fingers tightened around hers. “I want to be there. I want to help and… If you’ll let me, I want to be with you every step of the way.”

She blinked. “Every step?”

“You just threw up on top of me and my pizza. How much worse could it get?” He was joking, but there was steel underneath his words. And if she had any doubt, his next ones underlined his true meaning. “I’m going to be part of this child’s life from beginning to end. So I guess that means you’re going to have to get used to me hanging around.”

She nodded, waiting to feel claustrophobic by those words. She didn’t. In truth, she felt relief. And joy.

She tugged him toward the door. “Come on. Let’s eat before I get too annoyed with you and kick you out of my life.”

It was a joke, but she could see her words hit him. He truly was afraid that she’d cut ties with him. So she slowed and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Even if I hated your guts—which I don’t—I’d still keep you in my life for our child. He or she is half your fault, too. You’re going to take equal responsibility.”

“I don’t think it’s anyone’s fault. Except maybe that damn ghost.”

She snorted. “I doubt I can get him to pay child support.”

“That’s okay. Because we don’t need no stinking doubloons.”

She laughed at that. In fact, he kept her laughing all the way through their meal. Then he held her quiet in his arms all night long. No dreams that time, which was welcome. As was the morning wake up.

And the whole time, he kept her smiling. Not laughing, but at least stable. Not nearly as freaked out. And just like he promised, they got through.

After three days—and three lovely nights with Wyatt—she was beginning to feel like she had a handle on things. She’d gotten the A-OK from her doctor, was on pregnancy vitamins, and was beginning to get a handle on her nausea and mood swings. All in all, things were looking up.

Then her mother called.