The Baby Surprise (16 page)

“Well, then,” she said. “What do you want to do now?”

She couldn't help it—even as she asked the question, her gaze just automatically slid back to the bed, to the velvety pink petals scattered on the glossy sheets.

Zach's brows lifted. “What did you have in mind?”

She shrugged. “I was thinking maybe a hot bath, some cool champagne, then sliding between those sheets.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” he said, his hands cupping her shoulders to draw her closer. “Minus the bath and the champagne.”

“We can't let good champagne go to waste,” she protested, though not very strenuously.

“We'll have the champagne.” He kissed her lightly. “After.”

“Never let it be said that I don't know how to compromise,” Paige said, drawing his mouth down to hers for another, steamier kiss.

“I wouldn't dream of it.” He slipped his jacket from her shoulders. Then his fingertips skimmed over the ridge of her collarbone, down the length of her bare arms and back up again. This time when she shivered, he didn't need to ask if she was cold.

His mouth eased away from hers, his lips trailed kisses along her jaw, down her throat. The bustier that Jocelyn had insisted would be perfect with her dress pushed up her breasts so that they swelled over the top of the bodice. Zach took his time exploring those swells and the valley between them.

Paige wasn't nearly as patient. She tugged at his tie until the knot came loose, then began working at the line of buttons that ran down the front of his shirt, eager to get her hands on him.

She unfastened his belt, pulled it free of the loops and let it fall to the floor. Then she unhooked the front of his pants and released his zipper, stroking her hand down the front of his trousers as she did so. She smiled when Zach groaned, pleased to know that he was as aroused by her touch as she was by his.

After what seemed like an eternity of his hands stroking her body through the fabric of her dress, he zeroed in on the zipper at the side and slid it slowly downward. Then, just as slowly, he peeled the dress away until she was standing in front of him in only her undergarments and a pair of sexy silver sandals.

His eyes skimmed over her hotly, and her skin burned as if from his touch.

“And I thought you looked beautiful in the dress,” he murmured, then swept her up into his arms for a second time that day.

But this time she knew it was for her benefit alone, and though it was a foolishly romantic and completely unnecessary gesture, that knowledge didn't stop her heart from flut
tering wildly in her breast or prevent a sigh of pure pleasure from slipping from her lips.

“Do you like it?” she asked him.

“Like it?” He couldn't take his eyes off of her.

The sheer lacy undergarment that she wore nipped tight at her waist and lifted her breasts so that they practically spilled over the top. Below, she wore a tiny pair of bikini panties that were just as sheer and lacy.

“Yeah, I like it,” he said, unfastening the tie that held the two sides together. “But not as much as I like what's underneath.”

This time it wasn't an impulse and it was more than a stolen hour. They had the guest house all to themselves—there was no baby sleeping in the next room, no parents slumbering down the hall. There was no one but Paige.

And this time he was going to linger. He was going to listen for the hitch in her breath, the sound of her sighs, the tenor of her moans. She did sigh as his mouth slid over the curve of her breast, gasped when his lips nibbled the already turgid peak and moaned when he suckled deeply.

Yeah, that was what he wanted—and using her responses as his guide, he continued his leisurely exploration.

He could feel her heat and her wetness, and as his tongue stroked over the triangle of lace between her legs, her hips instinctively lifted. His hands slid up the back of her thighs, curved around her buttocks and held her immobile while he feasted.

She whimpered and writhed. And when he pushed aside the scrap of fabric and laved her hot, wet center with his tongue, he savored the essence of her explosion.

This time he was prepared, although he had to find the pants he'd discarded to retrieve the condoms he'd stuffed in his pocket. He made quick work of that task and hastily sheathed himself before rejoining her on the bed.

But the moment he braced himself over her, all sense of urgency vanished.

She looked so beautiful in the candlelight. So perfect.

She reached for him, her hands draping over his shoulders, her legs hooking around his waist. He slipped inside of her wet heat, his groan mingling with her sigh. He began to move, and she matched him, beat for beat, thrust for thrust, faster, harder, deeper.

Her body arched as the climax wracked her body, and he rode the wave with her, then shuddered his release into her.

 

This time when Paige woke in the morning and found herself wrapped in the warm strength of Zach's arms, she didn't panic at the thought of getting caught in his bed. No, this time her panic had a different origin. It was the realization that she could quite happily wake up like this every morning for the rest of her life.

Maybe that wasn't an unusual thought for a newly married woman, but it was both unusual and unnerving for a woman who'd married for only practical reasons.

She started to shift away from him, needing some physical distance to put her thoughts in order, but his arm clamped tighter around her, keeping her close to his side.

“Where do you think you're going?” he asked in a sleepy voice.

“I thought I'd, uh, take a shower.”

“We showered last night,” he reminded her.

“That was last night,” she said. “And it was before you decided to get creative with the champagne.”

Although his eyes remained closed, his lips curved. “I don't remember hearing any protests at the time.”

She seemed to recall gasping with shock when he'd dribbled the liquid on various parts of her body, then moaning with pleasure as he'd slowly and thoroughly licked up every
drop, but she definitely hadn't protested. “That's not the point.”

His hand slid up to cup her breast, his thumb rubbing lazily over her nipple. “I think it's a pretty good point.”

“Zach.” Definitely a moan rather than a protest.

“Yeah?” His hand moved downward, between her thighs.

Her legs parted for him and she sighed, surrendering to what they both needed. “Maybe we could try the hot tub instead of the shower next time.”

“Whatever you want,” he promised her.

 

When they finally got out of the hot tub, they were both starving. Though Zach thought it was unlikely that the refrigerator would be stocked, he pulled open the door anyway and found a fancy tray done up with meats and cheeses and crackers and fruit.

“Your sisters are the best,” Paige said, helping herself to a plump ripe strawberry.

“I'm starting to warm up to them myself,” Zach agreed, which made her laugh.

She piled a cracker with a square of Muenster and a slice of kielbasa, popped it into her mouth, then washed it down with a mouthful of spring water. “You're crazy about them.”

“I'd be crazy to admit it.” He went straight for the Colby, tossed a few cubes into his mouth.

“And they adore you.”

He winced at that. “They adore torturing me.”

“Because that's what sisters are supposed to do,” she informed him, selecting a cluster of green grapes.

“I guess I didn't get the memo on that.”

“You're lucky,” she said. “I didn't know what it meant to have siblings until I went to live with Ashley and Megan.”

“And did they torture you?”

“We tortured each other,” she admitted. “But we always knew we could count on one another, too.”

“You miss them, don't you?”

“I do. But we have such different lives now. Both Megan and Ashley are married and having babies and—”

“You're married now, too,” he pointed out. “Or did you forget that already?”

She blushed. “Of course I haven't forgotten. I'm just still getting used to the idea.”

“I think you forgot,” he said, feigning indignation. “Obviously I have to figure out a way to remind you.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Let me show you,” he said.

 

After they made love again, they finally, reluctantly, got dressed.

“This has been…incredible,” Paige said.

“So why do you sound so sad?”

“Because I wish it was more than just an interlude from the real world.”

“Is the real world so bad?” he asked gently, understanding that when she spoke so reproachfully about the real world what she was referring to was
his
world—the military environment in which he worked and lived.

“I guess time will tell.”

He kissed her gently. “I meant what I said when I spoke those vows,” he told her. “I will always come home to you and Emma.”

In fact, he'd meant everything he'd said during the ceremony in which he'd promised to love, honor and cherish her, but he knew she wasn't ready to hear those words just yet.

Which she confirmed when she said, “Speaking of Emma, it really is time for us to be getting back.”

Reminding himself that he had no right to be frustrated, he picked up his duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder, then followed her up the path to the main house.

I
t surprised Zach how easily he settled into the house on Chetwood Street with Paige and Emma. Of course, he'd been staying there with them before the trip to California, but he'd been a guest then. Now, he was legally Paige's husband and legitimately Emma's father, and he felt as if they really were a family. And he was happier and more content than he could have imagined.

It wasn't the kind of life he'd ever envisioned for himself. A tidy two-story home in the middle of suburbia. A lawn to mow, flowers to tend, windows to wash. It was almost ridiculous how much he enjoyed tackling those mundane day-to-day chores. Or maybe it was the beautiful wife and adorable baby girl who fulfilled him in a way he'd never felt before.

They shared meals together and they spent time with Emma, playing with her, caring for her. And when she was settled down for the night, he and Paige would go upstairs together and he'd find himself reaching for her, wanting her
as he'd never wanted another woman. And she would come to him willingly, even eagerly, and they would make love as if they couldn't get enough of one another.

It was so perfect, he knew it couldn't last.

And he couldn't help but wonder, what was going to happen when he left? Because the one thing both he and Paige had been certain of at the outset was that he would be leaving again.

It was, in fact, the reason they'd married—so Emma would have a mother to care for her when he was away and provide her with the stability that his transient career couldn't provide.

Meanwhile, Paige was still in the process of figuring out her career plan, trying to decide if she wanted to go back to Syracuse and her position at Wainwright, Witmer & Wynne or maybe look at staying in Pinehurst where she would be closer to her cousins and their families. He thought about suggesting Trenton as another possibility, but he knew that would be solely for his own convenience and completely unfair because he wouldn't be home all that often.

But the more he thought about leaving Paige and Emma, the more he found himself having doubts about the life he'd chosen for himself. Or maybe it was simply that falling in love had caused him to reevaluate the choices he'd made before he was a father, before he'd met Paige.

If he was willing to walk away from his career, he might be able to have a normal life with Paige and Emma. He'd never wanted a normal life before. There was no adrenaline rush with normal, no sense of purpose. Except that there was definitely a rush whenever he thought of Paige, and he couldn't imagine any task with more purpose than being a father to his daughter.

Whenever he'd thought of his life before, he'd thought first and foremost of his career. The military
was
his life, a second family when he was so far away from his own.

But he'd given them fifteen years, and as much as he loved flying, he knew he couldn't fly forever. In fact, they were already trying to promote him out of the cockpit. And watching the young guys coming up in the ranks, witnessing their boundless energy and unflagging enthusiasm, sometimes made him feel even older than his thirty-seven years.

He wanted something for himself now. He wanted Paige and Emma and maybe even more children down the road.

Of course, more children was something he definitely needed to discuss with Paige. He had no idea what her thoughts were with respect to kids, except that—by her own admission—she'd been completely unprepared for a child when Emma came into her care. Prior to that, she hadn't given any thought to parenthood.

He didn't know if that had changed at all. Certainly it wasn't anything they'd talked about before they'd gotten married. In fact, there were too many things they hadn't talked about, too much they hadn't known about one another before pledging to spend their lives together, and he vowed to change that.

But every time he tried to broach the subject of their future, Paige would steer the conversation in another direction. And because he was reluctant to force the issue when things were going so well between them, he let her, and the days simply slipped away until it was time for him to say goodbye to his wife and daughter and report back to duty.

She didn't ask how long he would be gone, probably because she knew it wasn't a question he could answer with any degree of certainty. And he didn't ask if she would be there when he came home, because he trusted that she meant to honor the vows they'd exchanged, that she wouldn't disregard a promise as easily as Heather had done.

 

Paige had known Zach was going to leave. Because she grew up in the military, she understood what the uniform
meant to the men and women who wore it. She understood and appreciated the sacrifices they made for their commanders, their comrades, their country.

But knowing Zach was going to leave still hadn't prepared her for the reality of his absence, and she felt the emptiness keenly when he was gone.

Twenty-four hours after he'd said goodbye, she was trying to remember what her life with Emma had been like before he'd ever walked into it. She'd been happy enough then. She certainly wouldn't have said that there was anything missing. But now, everything seemed empty without him.

“Dada,” Emma demanded.

“Dada had to go bye-bye,” Paige said.

The little girl curled and uncurled her fingers, the toddler version of a wave. “Bye-bye.”

“That's right, sweetie. Dada's gone bye-bye.”

“Pawk?” Emma said, latching on to her next favorite topic.

Paige managed to smile. “I have some work to do this morning, but maybe we can go to the park later.”

Emma clapped her hands together. “Pawk!”

Paige ruffled the little girl's hair and wished there was something that could lift her mood as easily.

 

Paige was feeling too melancholy to want to be alone with her thoughts, so she called Ashley and Megan and invited them to come over. Now only a few weeks away from her own due date, Ashley hadn't been venturing far but was more than happy to get out of the house for a while—even if it was just to go down the street. Megan had just gotten home from Marcus's first monthly checkup but willingly strapped the baby back into his car seat and came over to join them.

Ashley brought Maddie with her, of course, and the little girl happily occupied Emma while the adults chatted. It was
a nice way to spend the afternoon, or so she thought until Megan asked about Zach.

“How long is he going to be away this time?”

“Probably until the new year,” she admitted, trying not to think about how many months and weeks and days that would mean and how very much she missed him already.

“That sucks,” Ashley said.

Paige just shrugged, feigning a nonchalance she wasn't anywhere close to feeling. “Except for the ring on my finger, it just means that nothing has really changed in my life.”

“Uh-oh,” Ashley said softly, ominously.

Paige frowned. “What?”

“You've fallen in love with him.”

“I have not.”

“Then why are you getting all bent out of shape over the fact that he's gone?” Megan demanded.

“I'm not bent out of shape,” she denied.

Ashley and Megan exchanged looks.

“Okay, maybe I have feelings for him,” Paige allowed. “And maybe they're deeper than feelings I've had for anyone before.”

“Well, considering that you're married to the guy, I'd say that's a good thing,” Megan noted.

But Paige wasn't so sure and said so.

Ashley shook her head. “Did you really think this marriage would be like a business arrangement with enforceable terms and conditions?”

“Yes.”

Megan rolled her eyes. “You had sex with him before you married him, right?”

“So?”

“So obviously there was an attraction.”

“I've been attracted to other men before without my feelings spiraling out of control,” Paige informed her.

“You didn't live with any of them,” Ashley pointed out logically.

“She never dated anyone long enough to make that kind of commitment,” Megan noted. “And yet she married Zach after knowing him only a few weeks.”

“Because it was the only way I could be sure I wouldn't lose Emma.”

“Well, then, I guess you got exactly what you wanted,” Ashley said.

And Paige nodded, because it was true.

The problem was, now she wanted so much more.

 

Ashley had her baby on Friday.

Megan had gone three endlessly long days past her due date before her labor started, and then it had been both intense and painful. Ashley had her baby three weeks early and after only five hours of labor.

Because Ashley had suffered for years with endometriosis and the doctors hadn't even been sure that she would be able to get pregnant and carry a baby to term, it seemed only fair that her pregnancy and delivery should proceed relatively easily. So when she came out of delivery with bright eyes, glowing cheeks, a radiant smile and a perfect seven-pound, ten-ounce baby girl, neither Megan nor Paige held it against her.

When Zach called later that night, she told him all about baby Alyssa. Of course, he remarked on how different Ashley's labor was in comparison to Megan's only six weeks earlier, and Paige couldn't help but think how much her own life had changed in that same six-week period.

The day Megan had gone into labor, she hadn't trusted Zach to stay alone with Emma for a few hours. Now she was married to him. And missing him like crazy.

Of course, she wasn't ready to admit as much to him, but she did tell him, “Emma really misses you.”

“I miss both of you, too,” he said, and he sounded so sincere that her heart ached.

“I had a meeting at Wainwright, Witmer & Wynne on Monday,” she said, needing to steer the conversation to a more neutral topic before she said something to give away the feelings she hadn't yet acknowledged to herself.

“Are you thinking of going back?” he asked her.

She sighed. “No. These past couple of months with Emma have made me realize how little time I spent with her before. I definitely need to get back to work, but I've decided to explore other options.”

“In Pinehurst?” he wondered.

“That's one of the possibilities,” she agreed.

“There are others?” he prompted.

“Yes, but I don't want to talk about them until I've figured some things out.”

“So what do you want to talk about?”

“It doesn't matter,” she said. “I'm just happy to hear your voice.”

“Maybe Emma's not the only one who misses me?” he prompted.

She refused to respond to that, telling him instead about a recent conversation she'd had with his mother, updating him on the news from California.

When she'd finally run out of things to say, Zach said, “I really do miss you, Paige. I go to bed at night aching for you, and I wake up in the morning reaching for you. And then I cross another day off of my calendar and curse the fact that the new year is so far away.”

She felt the prick of tears at the back of her eyes and sighed. “Zach?”

“Yeah?”

“I miss you, too,” she said, because it was easier to be
honest with him over the phone, when she didn't have to look into his eyes and worry that he could read the emotion that was filling her heart.

 

Paige's thirtieth birthday was on the twentieth of July.

Although she hadn't wanted or expected anyone to make a big deal about the occasion, Ashley—despite having given birth less than a week earlier—insisted on having her over for dinner, promising that Cam was in charge of the cooking. When Paige and Emma showed up, they found that Megan and Gage and baby Marcus were also there.

The adults ate salmon steaks, grilled asparagus and baby potatoes while Maddie and Emma happily chowed down on macaroni and cheese and the babies alternated between napping and snuggling at their mothers' breasts.

It was a low-key celebration but no less enjoyable because of it. And if Paige found herself wishing, once or twice, that Zach could have been there with her, well, she knew to push such impossible fantasies aside.

Because everyone had babies to tend to, she said goodnight early, and when she returned home with Emma, she found a package from her aunt Lillian in the mailbox.

The envelope wasn't very thick, but it felt heavy in her hand, and Paige was as apprehensive as she was anxious to see what was inside. But she took care of Emma's bedtime routine first, giving her a bath, putting her in her jammies, brushing the ten teeth that she now had and just sharing a few minutes of quiet cuddling before tucking her into her crib.

Then she finally went back downstairs and opened the envelope.

There were only five photos in total, among them the wedding picture that Lillian had mentioned, and which confirmed that Paige had inherited many of her features from the woman who had given birth to her. But aside from that, Paige experienced no sense of recognition in looking at the
photo. It was as if she had no memory of the woman at all, and that realization made her unbearably sad.

She was about to set the photo aside when her gaze shifted to the groom, and she found her attention riveted by a face that was at once familiar and yet so very different from the man she remembered. Familiar in that the shape of his nose, the line of his jaw and the intensity of his stare were all the same. Different in that she had never seen him looking so happy before.

He was smiling in the photo. No, not just smiling, actually grinning, as he gazed down at the woman he'd just married.

What happened?
Paige wondered.

What could possibly have gone so wrong between them to turn such obvious love into bitterness and animosity?

She flipped through the rest of the pictures—one of mother and child taken in the hospital probably only a few hours after birth, a formal portrait of both parents with their baby, a later one of Paige when she was about three years old, kneeling in the sand beside her mother and trying to build something that didn't in any way resemble a castle but over which they were apparently laughing. And the last, obviously taken a few years later, with Paige seated on her mother's lap, a storybook open in front of her, but this time, neither of them was smiling.