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“Is everything okay? With the baby, I mean?”
“Our son is fine. As for my rising blood pressure? That’s a whole nother story.”
* * *
“KNOCK, KNOCK.” Quarter past ten that night, after an endless day of trying to make Tiffany remember why she’d been hot enough for him to have even made a baby, Rowdy cracked open her bedroom door and poked his head through. “You decent?”
“No!” Her whispered word was more like a hiss.
Mr. Bojangles woke to go into yapping attack mode at the foot of her bed.
Rowdy entered and shut the door behind him.
“Go away!” She sat up in a big white wrought iron bed, pulling a comfy-looking stack of quilts up to her neck. “I want Mom and Grammy Pearl to at least pretend I’m a virgin.”
He cracked a smile, then grabbed the dog. “Pretty sure that cat’s way out of the bag. The night we met—that trick you did with my... Damn. Woman, you’ve got skills.”
“Stop.” She covered her blazing cheeks with her hands. “Why are you here? And I’m not just talking about being in my bedroom.”
“Why do you think?” Cradling the dog just as sweetly as a baby, he perched on the empty side of the double bed. “I’m here to change your mind about that adoption. Hell, if you don’t want your own son, I’ll raise him myself. This morning, I gave you plenty of acceptable scenarios, and now you need to choose.”
When tears welled in her eyes, she looked away. The sight of him with the dog was all too easy to get tangled up with other images in her mind. Her yappy, spoiled mutt wasn’t the same as a real baby. Mr. Bojangles didn’t need health insurance or diapers. For her family, times were so hard that Pearl had to barter eggs for a neighbor’s bacon. There was no way Tiffany could ever afford to keep her child.
“Look.” He softened his tone. “I get that when I didn’t call you back, you assumed I was some derelict deadbeat, and I’m sorry. But I’m here now, and if you want me to break the news to that couple you made the adoption arrangement with, I’ll do it. For the sake of the baby, if you want to get hitched tomorrow, I’m on board. Whatever decision you make is fine as long as I’m part of the equation.”
“You don’t understand.” She took a roll of toilet paper from her bedside table, then tore off a piece to blow her nose. “The night you and I hooked up, I was out of my mind with grief and trying to mask the pain. My dad had been sent to prison and my husband divorced me right down to the point that he bought back his name. I went from a life of pampered luxury to blowing my nose with toilet paper.” Borderline hysterical while still trying to whisper, she waved the roll around. “It’s not even a good brand, but generic. Every dime to my name went to paying off Daddy’s lawyers and now I’ve gone from my biggest worry being what color to paint my nails or how many calories were in my morning latte to being responsible for an entire household. I hate my ex. And I’m not especially fond of my dad, so forgive me if I don’t buy your whole marriage scenario. We slept together—one night. So how in the world do you think I’m now ready to marry you?”
“Technically, we were together about six times that one night. And I’m not suggesting this is anything other than a solution to keep our baby. Marriage would be a means to a mutually beneficial end. That’s all.”
She pitched a lacy pillow at him, which he easily dodged.
Now her own dog growled at her!
“Sorry. Sounds like you’ve been through a rough patch, but—”
“Rough patch?” She was back to whisper-screeching. “I went through hell. I became that woman in Junior League and in my sorority’s alumni chapter who everyone whispers about being one martini shy of having a nervous breakdown. The men I trusted the most yanked my world out from under me, so forgive me if I’m not feeling warm and fuzzy about a total stranger’s vow to make me a live-in nanny. I don’t know you from Adam. You could be an ax murderer or...or...shoplifter.”
“Yeah.” He nodded with a faint smile. “If I turned out to be one of those creepy guys who stash candy bars and gum in their pants that would be seriously bad news.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.” He inched close enough to cup his hand over their baby. Even through layers of quilts, she felt a connection to him—to their son. Her every muscle tensed to resist the havoc his simple touch had created. “But here’s the deal. I’m actually a really great guy, and if you’d give me a chance, I’d—”
“Tiff?” Gigi knocked, then opened the door. “Rowdy. I didn’t expect to find you in my daughter’s boudoir.”
“Sorry, ma’am. Your daughter and I needed to talk—in private.”
“About the wedding? Let’s have a holiday theme. It’ll be extra special, don’t you think?”
“Sure,” he said as if more determined than ever to see this crazy thing through.
“In that case...” She treated them to a huge wink. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone. I need to start planning.”
“Thank you.” Rowdy smiled.
She smiled back and was gone.
Tiffany, however, was not smiling. If anything, her mood had turned even darker than it had been before.
“Now that I have your mother’s blessing,” he said, “will you at least meet my family before condemning me to the land of evil shoplifters?”
“Joke all you want.” For an instant, she laughed. “But I’m serious. At any time you choose, you can walk away. I don’t have that luxury. I also don’t have the money to pay for our baby’s birth, let alone diapers and college.”
“Are you planning to have the baby at Regional Hospital here in town?”
“Yes.” It was small but had a great reputation.
“If we’re married, my health insurance will cover you.”
“What then? I don’t mean to sound bitchy, but what about everything else our baby boy is going to need—including time to care for him and love him and teach him to be a man? Let’s say you are in the navy, and we marry. What happens if I hate Virginia? Or you?”
“A distinct possibility,” he teased, patting her belly.
“This seems like a game to you—a challenge to win your son—but if you’d for one second be serious and think about the ramifications involved, I think you’d agree adoption is best for us both.”
“Never. I was raised to accept my responsibilities. I was man enough to help create this baby, and I’ll be man enough to raise him.”
“But why? You’ve admitted how much your career means. Having a wife and child will only get in your way. Don’t you get it? This adoption gives you an honorable out. Our baby will no longer be merely a responsibility but a blessing. The Parkers are wonderful, deserving people who will be better parents than you and I ever could.”
“Look, you admitted you’ve had a rough year. Well, you’re not the only one. What I’m about to share with you, even my parents and brother don’t know...”
Chapter Four (#u1a08596e-a84e-51dd-8cfd-2df7868d8eed)
Tiffany leaned closer. Did it make her an even more horrible person that one of the simple things she most missed about her former life was gossip? “Well? What could be so horrible?”
“Lord... Where do I even start?” He swallowed hard, rubbing her sleeping, traitorous dog behind his ears. When tears shone in Rowdy’s green eyes, guilt had her offering the toilet paper roll. Whatever he was about to share, it was serious.
“Most people say start at the beginning, but I have a short attention span, so jump right in with the juicy parts.”
He grinned.
She nearly swooned. Baby, your daddy’s a looker...
“Anyone ever told you you’re a little kooky?”
“All the time.” She settled a pillow behind her back. “Now spill.”
“Okay, but don’t think badly of me. Because seriously, no one hates me more than me.”
That didn’t sound good, but who was she to cast stones? “Considering I got knocked up from a one-night stand, this is a judgment-free zone.”
After a deep inhale, then slow exhale, words tumbled too fast, as if he’d been holding them in for far too long. “The night we met? Part of the reason I was so damned drunk was another woman. Back in Virginia, Brandi and I dated on and off—nothing serious. Then she tells me she’s pregnant and the baby’s mine.”
Now Tiffany sucked in a deep breath. “Where’s the infant and his or her momma now?”
“That’s just it...” He rubbed the back of his neck. “We hardly had a great love story. It was all about sharing a few Friday-night drinks, then releasing the week’s tensions. But hell, when she told me she was carrying my baby, I was prepared to do right by her and my kid. I bought her a ring, got down on one knee—the whole nine yards.”
She leaned in closer. “Why aren’t you married to her now?”
“Damn, woman, if you’d quit interrupting, I’d tell you.”
“Sorry.” To stop herself from blurting about a dozen more pertinent questions, Tiffany drew her lower lip into her mouth and bit.
“So anyway, I wasn’t exactly proud of how this whole thing was going down, but we got married, and then I got shipped out. Making a long story real short, by the time I got back, she’d had the baby—a boy. I had a son. I’d had a couple hundred sleepless nights to ponder what it was going to be like when I got home—you know, taking on the role of dad and husband to this infant and woman I hardly knew.”
Where in the world was this going?
“Back on base, when I stepped off our C-130 transport, she waited for me on the tarmac with all of the other wives. When I caught my first sight of her with a baby stroller—not gonna lie—I could’ve downed an entire bottle of Pepto. Still, she was my wife, this was my son, and I was determined to be a great dad and partner. All around us, my SEAL buddies were making out with their wives or hugging their kids, so I got into it. Or at least tried. I kissed her cheek, then reached into the stroller for my son. Only when I picked him up for our first hug, I got a helluva shock—there was no way this kid could be mine.”
“What? How could you tell?” Tiffany could deny it all she wanted, but when it came to juicy gossip, she was every bit as bad as her mother. This story was getting good.
“Let’s just say the little guy was cute as a button but looked more like Bruce Lee than me. As far as I knew, we didn’t have any Asians on the family tree. She admitted to having slept with another guy around the same time as me and that she was already back together with him. She pulled a packet of divorce papers from a pouch on the back of the stroller. Told me that once I signed them, our marriage would be officially over, then wished me a nice life. After all those nights I’d spent worrying about how I was going to perform as a father, just like that, the issue was off the table.”
“Whoa...” Out of habit, Tiffany rubbed her baby bump. “You weren’t kidding. That was nuts. But how does what Brandi did make you feel bad about yourself?”
“Because I was an idiot for landing myself in that situation. I’d always worn protection with her, but accidents happen. Now here I am again, facing the same issue with you. But the funny thing is, after another long-ass tour filled with way too much time for thinking, now maybe I am ready to be a dad.”
“Do you know how crazy that sounds? After what that woman put you through, I would have figured you felt like she’d given you a get-out-of-jail-free card. I’m now offering you another one.”
“But I want my son.”
Tiffany shook her head. “You only think you want to be a dad. Trust me, I have bouts of suffering from baby fever, too. When those adorable diaper and baby-food ads pop up on TV, the chubby-cheeked close-ups get me teary eyed every time. But those aren’t the realities of raising a child. To do right by him, to put the same time, attention and love into your son as you do being a SEAL, you might have to give up your career and move back to this dead-end town.”
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