Her Kind of Trouble (Harlequin Superromance) (8 page)

“You’re as white as a ghost,” she said, resting her hand on his forearm.

“The baby is okay,” he said. “It’s a girl. But Lola’s in an induced coma.”

“God, Seth. You must be reeling.”

“Yeah, I am a little.”

“Come and sit down for a moment.” She led him back to their chairs.

“Can you see the baby?”

“Yes. I need to find the neonatal unit....” His gaze went to the sign hanging from the ceiling, but there was no mention of a maternity ward, just X-ray and Admissions.

“What about Lola’s parents? Do you have any way of contacting them?”

He stared at her, then the import of her words sunk in. His brain cleared and he could see all the steps that lay before him. All the things he needed to do, the calls he needed to make. He took a deep breath, pushing his hair off his forehead.

“I’ll need to go to her place, see if she’s got anything there with their contact details. She’s got a laptop. Maybe Zara knows her password.”

“Where does she live? We can go there when we leave here.”

He frowned. “You must have stuff to do. I can’t let you be my personal taxi service.”

Maybe he should call Jason, see if he could borrow his car for a few hours. Although the logistics of how his brother would get the car to him and then get home again were beyond him right now.

“Seth, you’ve got more than enough on your plate without worrying about how you’re going to get around. Let me do this for you.”

He wanted to argue—she didn’t owe him anything—but she was right. He was in the middle of the biggest crisis he’d ever faced and the last thing he needed was more stress.

“Okay. Thanks. I really appreciate this, Viv.”

“I know. What do we need to do now?”

“Find the neonatal ward.”

Her expression softened. “To see your daughter.”

“Yeah.”

He had a daughter. Not just a notional bump, or a blurry outline on a scan. A real, live, breathing baby girl. She’d survived the accident and the surgery, and she was waiting for him somewhere in this massive edifice of concrete and steel.

“Come on, let’s go,” he said, suddenly urgent.

He needed to make sure his little girl was okay.

CHAPTER FIVE

T
HE
BABY
WAS
small, but that was to be expected considering she was only thirty-six weeks. Vivian stood at the viewing window and watched as Seth spoke to the nurse on the other side. He looked so grim and scared as he gazed into the crib. And no wonder. This was a nightmare of epic proportions. Every single plan he and Lola had made for the future had been scuttled in one fell swoop.

But his daughter was alive, and, by the look of her, well. That was a huge, huge positive to cling to.

The only positive, really, until they heard more regarding Lola’s condition.

The nurse reached into the crib and lifted the baby out. Seth accepted the tiny, white wrapped bundle, automatically drawing her close to his chest, nestling her head into the crook of his arm. Vivian blinked, surprised by how natural he looked holding his child. Then she remembered that he’d had plenty of practice with Sam and Max. He might come across as a die-hard bachelor, but in some ways he’d been training for this for years.

He lowered his head and said something to his daughter, his expression almost unbearably tender. It was such an intimate, personal moment Vivian had to look away. A lump of emotion swelled her throat and she swallowed a couple of times, wishing there was something more she could do for him. For all of them.

When she was confident she wouldn’t turn into a one-woman waterworks, she let herself look again. He was rocking the baby in his arms, his shoulders hunched as though he wanted to curl around her to protect her from the world. And the expression on his face—it was a mix of wonder, grief, fear and bafflement.

He glanced up, and their eyes met. A shy smile curved his mouth before he caught himself. She knew exactly what he was thinking—that it was wrong to feel anything but bad given the circumstances. But he was holding a new person in his arms. How could he not celebrate that? How could he not feel enormously relieved and grateful and honored?

She smiled to let him know it was okay to be happy that his daughter had arrived and survived. Then he returned his attention to his girl and she knew that everything and everyone else had been forgotten. As it should be.

Some of the color was back in his face when he left the nursery. He looked...determined. As though he knew exactly what needed to be done. And who needed to come first.

“I have to talk to someone about paperwork, apparently. Then we can get going. I’ll call Zara, and make sure she’s going to be around.”

It took another hour for them to escape the hospital. Zara had assured Seth that she’d be at the town house she and Lola rented, and Vivian drove toward the city, finally parking in front of a small two-story town house situated opposite the train line in Malvern East.

Seth didn’t immediately get out of the car and she saw he was bracing himself. Preparing himself to deal with Zara.

“She was pretty upset, huh?”

“Yeah. They’re both English, and they’ve become pretty good mates even though they didn’t know each other before they came to Australia.”

Vivian didn’t point out that dealing with Zara would be ten times easier than breaking the bad news to Lola’s parents. She was sure that Seth was already painfully aware of that fact.

“You don’t need to come in if you don’t want to,” he said suddenly.

She considered the town house and what was likely to occur once he went inside.

“It might be helpful to have another woman around.”

“Yeah, but this isn’t your mess.”

“You can be grateful later, okay? Let’s just get through this.”

His dark eyes were unfathomable as he looked at her. “Viv, all that stuff with Jason and Jodie and the kids... If I’d stopped to think for even a second, none of that crap would have ever come out my mouth.”

“No kidding.” She opened her door. “Let’s do this.”

He joined her on the pavement and squared his shoulders before reaching for the catch on the waist-high gate. The garden was overgrown and neglected, a handful of junk mail rotting into the garden bed beside the letter box. Remembering the share-houses of her youth, Vivian had a fair idea what she was about to walk into—Ikea furniture, cask wine and the kind of clutter that only two young women can generate.

The door opened as they approached, revealing a wan-looking, fuller-figured brunette dressed in an oversize sweater and black leggings.

“I heard you pull up,” she said. Her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed and she clutched a scrunched-up tissue in one hand.

“I’m really sorry, Zar,” Seth said.

Her face crumpled and Seth stepped forward, wrapping her in a hug. “She’s in a great hospital, and they’re doing everything they can.”

Vivian tried not to stare. Over the years, she’d seen Seth flirt and tease and be charming. She’d seen him argue with her sister and roll his eyes at his father. She’d seen him be both playful and stern with his nephews. But she’d never seen the side of him she’d witnessed tonight—empathetic, gentle, patient. Emotional.

Not so much the battle-hardened bachelor. Maybe more of a well-disguised marshmallow in wolf’s clothing.

“She just went out to grab some stuff for dinner,” Zara said, her voice thick with tears. “I invited her to come to the movies with me but she said she didn’t feel like it.”

“I invited her to come to my nephew’s party, too,” Seth said. “Don’t give yourself a hard time about those sorts of choices. Best way to drive yourself nuts.”

Zara blew her nose, then she seemed to register Vivian for the first time.

“This is Vivian, my sister-in-law,” Seth explained.

“I’m so sorry about your friend,” Vivian said simply.

Zara nodded, her chin wobbling. Seth put his arm around her.

“I need to work out how to contact Lola’s parents. I don’t suppose you have any idea where she keeps that kind of stuff.”

Zara’s forehead wrinkled as she thought for a moment. “I know she emails them pretty regularly. And they sent her a parcel for her birthday in March. There was a card....”

Vivian followed them as they disappeared into the house. Zara led them past an overcrowded living room and upstairs to Lola’s bedroom, where it looked as though a clothing bomb had exploded.

“Her computer password is legseleven.” Zara’s mouth formed a weak smile as she passed the laptop to Seth. “She loves bingo like nobody’s business.”

The battery was flat, and it took them a while to find the charger in all the mess. Eventually Seth was able to access her email account, and it didn’t take long to discover her parents’ email address. Vivian jotted it down in the notebook she always carried in her purse, but she could see that Seth wasn’t satisfied.

“I don’t want to send them an email telling them what’s happened,” he said.

“If we can find an address, we can look up their phone number online.”

More searching unearthed a stash of Christmas cards in Lola’s bedside drawer, most of which were still in their envelopes. It only took a few minutes to find one from her parents.

“I’ll take this, if that’s okay,” Seth told Zara.

She shrugged, looking lost and very young. Vivian remembered how alone and isolated she’d felt when her grandfather had died while she was living in New York. Being overseas was a fantastic adventure—until something happened to remind you of how precious and far away home was.

“Is there someone who can come stay the night with you?” she asked.

“My boyfriend works night shift. He’s coming over as soon as he finishes,” Zara said.

Vivian made her a cup of tea before they left, and Seth showed her a photograph he’d taken of the baby, which sent Zara to the bathroom to procure a fresh fistful of tissues.

“Can I come see her? Does she look like Lola?”

“Of course you can see her. And she has blond hair, like Lola,” Seth said.

It was nearly midnight by the time they got in the car to drive to Seth’s place.

“You okay?” she asked as she started the engine.

“Yeah.” He sounded infinitely weary.

“What’s the time difference between here and the U.K.?”

“Nine hours, I think. Depending on whether they’re on summer time.”

She saw the familiar golden arches of a McDonald’s ahead. “You want a burger? You must be starving.”

He shrugged, but she pulled into the drive-through anyway and ordered two cheeseburger meals. She parked in the lot, and they were silent as they unwrapped their food.

“I haven’t had a cheeseburger since I was a kid,” he said.

“What do you normally have?”

“Big Mac, of course.” He waved the cheeseburger between them. “This is a girl’s burger.”

“I guess these fries are probably girly, too, right? Not chunky and masculine enough for you?”

“These fries are just fine,” he said, grabbing a handful and stuffing them into his mouth.

She laughed, the sound very loud in the confines of the car. Then she remembered why they were parked at McDonald’s at twelve-thirty on a Saturday night and the smile slipped from her lips.

“I might check in with the hospital,” Seth said, his mind clearly on the same track as hers.

He made the call, only to be told that there was no change in Lola’s condition. They finished eating and headed for Seth’s place.

“When do you get your car back?” she asked as she pulled into his driveway.

“Not till Monday afternoon at the earliest. But Jason texted me earlier—he’s going to drop his car off in the morning, so I’m covered. Thanks, though.”

“Oh, good. That’s great.” She thought about all the things he needed to sort out. Lola’s parents, Lola’s treatment, the baby... She felt overwhelmed just thinking about it. She could only imagine how he was feeling. If he was a friend—as opposed to a sort-of relative that she only had a very loose relationship with—she’d offer to come in and do whatever it took to ease his burden. But she was very aware of the fact that the only reason she’d played a part in this small tragedy tonight was because he’d needed to get from A to B. Under normal circumstances, she would have heard about this via her sister, a few days after the event, and it would be months before she’d be in a position to offer him her sympathies in person.

“I’m starting to feel like a broken record, but thanks for everything.” He faced her. “I would have been screwed if you hadn’t stepped up. And no one would have blamed you if you told me to go hang.”

“You can suck up to me for the next ten years to make it up to me, don’t worry.”

“Deal.”

“Try to get some sleep, okay?” she said. “As well as doing all the other stuff you need to do.”

“Yeah.”

He surprised her then by leaning across the hand brake and kissing her cheek. They’d never really done the kiss-hello, kiss-goodbye thing. For obvious reasons.

“Night, Viv.”

“Night, Seth.”

She caught a waft of his aftershave as he turned away, and she could feel the spot where he’d kissed her, her skin tingling from the slight rasp of his stubble. He shut the car door quietly, then disappeared into the house. She waited until a light came on inside before reversing into the street.

She felt both relieved and guilty as she headed home—relieved because she was in a position to drive away from the heavy sadness that had taken over Seth’s world, and guilty for the same reason.

He would be okay, though. She wasn’t sure how she knew that, but she did. Despite his devil-may-care demeanor, there was a very grounded solidity to Seth, something she’d only really understood tonight.

Yep, he was going to be okay. But it might take him a while to get there.

* * *

C
ALLING
L
OLA

S
PARENTS
was the hardest thing Seth had ever had to do in his life. It had been tempting to put it off even after he’d done an online search and confirmed it was 10:00 a.m. there, but his gut told him that the news wasn’t going to get any better.

Maybe that made him the world’s biggest pessimist, but the doctors and nurses had been very conservative in their predictions for Lola’s chances. He figured he’d be an idiot to ignore their expertise.

Lola’s father, Dennis, answered, and Seth introduced himself before saying he had some bad news. By the time he’d finished, Seth felt ten years older and as close to weeping as he’d ever been.

Dennis and Melissa signaled their intention to be on the first plane possible, and they exchanged contact details before Seth assured them he would be in touch the second he heard anything new. One of his key roles in this drama, he was quickly learning, was keeping all of Lola’s loved ones informed.

It was the least he could do, as well as the most. At the moment anyway.

Afterward, he floated around the house, gritty-eyed with tiredness but still buzzing with adrenaline, his mind crammed with thoughts. Chief amongst them was his daughter, the red-faced little miracle he’d held in his arms for too few minutes tonight.

She’d been so light. He hadn’t expected that. It had been a few years now since Sam had been a baby; he’d forgotten how damned tiny they were. Little fingers, microscopic nails. Squashed-flat noses and curled-up bodies. His daughter’s head had been beautifully round, however, unlike his nephews’, since she’d been in the breech position and had been delivered via emergency C-section.

She’d been deeply asleep, her eyes screwed tightly shut. He could still remember the incredible softness of her cheek and the silky texture of the shock of blond hair on her head.

They wanted to keep her in the hospital for a while to monitor her progress and ensure she gained weight, but after that she would be ready to come home. His home, now, not Lola’s.

He pivoted as the thought hit him, heading up the hallway to the room he’d mentally allocated as the baby’s when he’d learned Lola was pregnant and had finished freaking out about it.

It was a junk room at present, filled with all the flotsam and jetsam that hadn’t found a home anywhere else. An old bed frame, the office chair he’d used before he bought a more comfortable one, boxes of old CDs and books, a lamp with a crooked shade. He’d thought he would have time to prepare it for the baby, figuring she would need to be near her mother for at least the first six months of her life and that sleepovers would be some way off as of yet.

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