First Comes Baby...: The Loner's Guarded Heart (13 page)

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Authors: Michelle Douglas

Tags: #ROMANCE

BOOK: First Comes Baby...: The Loner's Guarded Heart
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‘I’ll make sure I’m here in case there are any hitches.’

‘Thank you.’ He eyed her for a moment. It made her skin prickle. ‘What?’

He shook himself. ‘Have you managed to keep this afternoon free?’

‘Uh-huh.’ Something in her stomach shifted—a dark, dangerous thrill at the thought of spending a whole afternoon in Ben’s company. ‘What do you have planned?’ If both of them were sensible it would be something practical and beige boring.

Ben’s eyes—the way they danced and the way that grin hooked up the right side of his face—told her this afternoon’s adventure, whatever it might be, was not going to be beige.

‘It’s a surprise.’

Her blood quickened. She should make an excuse and cry off, but...

Damn it all, this was Ben—
her best friend
—and that grin of his was irresistible. She glanced down at her sundress. ‘Is what I’m wearing okay?’

‘Absolutely not.’ His grin widened. ‘You’re going to need a pair of swimmers, and something to put on over them to protect you from sunburn.’

Her bones heated up. She really, truly should make an excuse. ‘And a hat, I suppose?’ she said, moving in the direction of her bedroom to change.

‘You get the picture,’ he said.

* * *

Meg lifted her face into the breeze and let out a yell for the sheer fun of it. Ben had driven them into Nelson Bay in his brand new
red
four-wheel drive to hire a rubber dinghy with an outboard motor for the afternoon. They were zipping across the vast expanse of the bay as if they were flying.

Ben had given her the wind in her hair for real, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had this much fun. She released the rope that ran around the dinghy’s perimeter and flung her arms back, giving herself up to sheer exhilaration.

‘Meg!’

She opened her eyes at Ben’s shout, saw they were about to hit the wake from a speedboat, and grabbed the rope again for balance. They bounced over the waves, her knees cushioned by the buoyant softness of the rubber base.

Eventually Ben cut the motor and they drifted. She trailed her hand in the water, relishing its refreshing coolness as she dragged the scent of salt and summer into her lungs. Silver scales glittered in the sun when a fish jumped out of the water nearby. Three pelicans watched from a few metres away, and above them a flock of seagulls cried as they headed for the marina.

The pelicans set off after them, and Meg turned around and stretched her legs out. The dinghy was only small, but there was plenty of room for Meg and Ben to sit facing one another, with their legs stretched to the side. She savoured the way the dinghy rocked and swayed, making their legs press against each other’s, the warm surge that shot through her at each contact.

Ever since that kiss she’d found herself craving to touch Ben—to test the firmness of his skin, to explore his muscled leanness and discover if it would unleash the heat that could rise in her without any warning.

It was dangerous, touching like this, but she couldn’t stop herself. Besides, it was summer—the sun shone, the gulls wheeled and screeched, and water splashed against the sides of the dingy. For a moment it all made her feel young and reckless.

‘This was a brilliant idea, Ben.’

He grinned. ‘It’s certainly had the desired effect.’

She reached up to adjust the brim of her sunhat. ‘Which was?’

‘To put the colour back in your cheeks.’

She stilled. It was strange to have someone looking out for her, looking after her. ‘Thank you.’ If Ben did stay—

She cut that thought off. Whether Ben stayed or not, it wasn’t his job to look after her. He might fill her with heat, but that didn’t mean they had any kind of future together.

Except as friends.

He shrugged. ‘Besides, it’s nice to have some buddy-time.’

She gritted her teeth. Buddy-time was excellent. It
was
!

She glanced at him and tried to decipher the emotions that tangled inside her, coiling her up tight.

She started to name them silently. One: desire. Her lips twisted.
Please God, let that pass
. Two: anger that he’d turned her nicely ordered world on its head. She shook her head.
Deal with it
. Three: love for her oldest, dearest friend, for all they’d been through together, for all they’d shared, and for all the support and friendship he’d given her over the years.

And there was another emotion there too—something that burned and chafed. A throbbing sore. It was...

Hurt.

That made her blink. Hurt? She swallowed and forced herself to examine the feeling. An ache started at her temples. Hurt that he’d stay in Port Stephens for their baby in a way he’d never have stayed for her.

Oh, that was petty. And nonsensical.

She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. She hadn’t harboured hidden hopes that Ben would come back for her.
She hadn’t!
But seeing him now on such a regular basis...not to mention that kiss on the beach...that devastating kiss...

‘Cold?’

She shook her head and abruptly dropped her hands back to her lap. She dragged in a breath. She had to be careful. She couldn’t go weaving Ben into her romantic fantasies. It would end in tears. It would wreck their friendship. And that would be the worst thing in the world. It was why she hadn’t let herself get hooked on that kiss ten years ago. It was why she had to forget that kiss the other night.

A romantic relationship—even if Ben was willing—wasn’t worth risking their friendship over.

Deep inside, a part of her started to weep. She swallowed. Hormones, that was all.

‘I can still hardly believe that Elsie and your father are marrying.’

She nodded, prayed her voice would work properly, prayed she could hide her strain. ‘It shows a remarkable optimism on both their parts.’

He surveyed her for a moment. ‘How are you getting on with your father?’

‘Same as usual.’ She lifted her face to the sun to counter a sudden chill. ‘Neither he nor Elsie have mentioned my outburst. It seems we’re all back to pretending it never happened.’ Not that she knew what else she’d been expecting. Or hoping for. ‘It’s the elephant in the room nobody mentions.’

‘It’s had a good effect on Elsie, though.’

She straightened from her slouch. ‘No?’

‘Yep.’ He flicked water at her. ‘She’s less buttoned-up and more relaxed. She makes more of an effort at conversation too.’

‘No?’

He flicked water at her again. ‘Yep.’

‘I’d say that’s down to the effect of her romance with my father.’

‘She’s even knitting the baby some booties.’

Meg leant towards him, even though she was in danger of getting more water flicked at her. ‘You’re kidding me?’

He didn’t flick more water at her, but she realised it had been a mistake to lean towards him when the scent of leather and whisky slugged into her, heating her up...tightening her up. Making her want forbidden things.

She sat back. Darn it all! How on earth could she be so aware of his scent out here in the vast expanse of the bay? Surely the salt water and the sun should erase it, dilute it?

She scooped up a whole handful of water and threw it at him.

And then they had the kind of water fight that drenched them both and had her squealing and him laughing and them both breathing heavily from the exertion.

‘How long since you’ve been out on the bay like this?’ he demanded, subsiding back into his corner.

‘Like this?’ She readjusted her sunhat. ‘Probably not since the last time we did it.’

‘That has to be two years ago!’

‘I’ve been out on a couple of dinner cruises, and I’ve swum more times than I can count.’

‘What about kayaking?’

That was one of her favourite things—to take a kayak out in the early evening, when the shadows were long, the light dusky and the water calm. Paddling around the bay left her feeling at one with nature and the world. But when had she’d actually last done that?

She cocked her head to one side. She’d gone out a few times in December, but...

She hadn’t been out once this year! ‘I...I guess I’ve been busy.’

‘You need to stop and smell the roses.’

He was right. This afternoon—full of sun, bay and a beat-up rubber dinghy—had proved that to her. She wanted to set her child a good example. She had no intention of turning into a distracted workaholic mother. She thought about her father and Elsie, how easily they’d fallen into unhealthy routines and habits.

She swallowed and glanced at Ben. He always took the time to smell the roses. Her lips twisted. Sometimes he breathed them in a little too deeply, and for a little too long, but nobody could accuse him of not living life to the full.

Would he still feel life was full after he’d been living in Port Stephens for a couple of years?

She glanced around. It was beautiful here. He was having fun, wasn’t he?

For today
.

But what would happen tomorrow, the day after that, and next week, next month, or even next year?
Please, God, don’t let Ben be miserable
.

There was still so much that had to be settled. She leant back and swallowed. ‘I agree it’s important to slow down and to enjoy all the best that life has to offer, but you’ve still got some big decisions ahead of you, Ben.’ And she doubted she’d be able to relax fully until he’d made them.

‘Like?’

‘Like what are you going to do with Elsie’s house? Will you live there on your own after the wedding?’

‘I haven’t thought about it.’

‘And what about a job? I’m not meaning to be nosy or pushy or anything, but...’

His lips twitched. ‘But?’

‘I figure you don’t want to live off your savings for ever.’

‘I have a couple of irons in the fire.’

He did? She opened her mouth but he held up a hand to forestall her.

‘Once I have something concrete to report you’ll be the first to know. I promise.’

She wanted to demand a timeframe on his promise, but she knew he’d scoff at that. And probably rightly so.

‘Do you think I should move into Elsie’s house?’

Her mouth dried. ‘I...’

‘If I do, I’ll be paying her rent.’ He scowled. ‘I don’t want her to give the darn thing to me. It’s hers.’

She eyed him for a moment. ‘What if she gifts it to the baby?’

His mouth opened and closed but no sound came out. It obviously wasn’t a scenario he’d envisaged. ‘I...’ He didn’t go on.

She glanced away, her stomach shrinking. The two of them had to have a serious conversation. But not today. They could save it for some other time.

‘You better spit it out, Meg.’

She glared at the water. Ben knowing her so well could be darn inconvenient at times. She blew out a breath and turned to him. ‘There are a few things I think we need to discuss in relation to the baby, but they can wait until after the wedding. It’s such a glorious afternoon.’

And she didn’t want to spoil it. Or ruin this easy-going camaraderie that should have been familiar to them but had been elusive these last few weeks.

‘It could be the perfect afternoon for such a discussion,’ he countered, gesturing to the sun, the bay and the holiday atmosphere of these last dog days of summer. ‘When we’re both relaxed.’

If she uttered the C-word he wouldn’t remain relaxed. Still, she knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t let it drop. She glanced around. Maybe he was right. Maybe she
should
lay a few things out there for him to mull over before Dave presented him with that dream offer. It only seemed fair.

She shivered, suddenly chilled, as if a cloud had passed over the sun. ‘You won’t like it,’ she warned.

‘I’m a big boy, Meg. I have broad shoulders.’

‘You want to know if I think you should live in Elsie’s house? That depends on...’ She swallowed.

‘On?’

‘On what kind of access you want to have to the baby.’

He frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

She wasn’t going to be able to get away with not using the C-word. Dancing around it would only make matters worse.

‘What I’m talking about, Ben, are our custody arrangements.’

* * *

Custody?

Ben flinched as the word ripped beneath his guard. His head was filled with the sound of shouting and screaming and abuse.

Custody?

‘No!’ He stabbed a finger at her. He swore. Once. Hard. Tried to quieten the racket in his head. He swore again, the storm raging inside him growing in strength. ‘What the bloody hell are you talking about?
Custody?
’ He spat the word out. ‘No way! We don’t need
custody
arrangements. We aren’t like that. You and I can work it out like civilised people.’

Meg had gone white.

He realised he was shouting. Just like his mother had shouted. Just like his father had shouted. He couldn’t stop. ‘We’re supposed to be friends.’

She swallowed and bile filled his mouth. Was she afraid of him? Wind rushed through his ears. No! She knew him well enough to know he’d never hut her. Didn’t she?

His hands clenched. If she knew him well enough, she’d have never raised this issue in the first place.

‘We’re friends who are having a baby,’ she said, her voice low. ‘We need certain safeguards in place to ensure—’

‘Garbage!’ He slashed a hand through the air. ‘We can keep going the way we have been—the way we’ve always done things. When you’ve had the baby I can come over any time and help, maybe take care of it some days while you’re at work, and help you in the evenings with feeding and baths and—’

‘So basically we’d live like a married couple but without the benefits?’

Her scorn almost blasted the flesh from his bones.

‘No, Ben, that’s
not
how it’s going to be. Living like that—don’t you think it would do our child’s head in?’ She stabbed a finger at him. ‘Besides, I still believe in love and marriage. I am
so
not going to have you cramp my style like that.’

The storm inside him built to fever-pitch. ‘You really mean to let another man help raise
my
child?’

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