A Vow, a Ring, a Baby Swing Page 12

He watched Rosie shift her position on the couch. Her baby-enhanced abdomen made it hard for her to get comfortable. Soon she would be gone, too. The ache increased tenfold and expanded into full-blown pain that he couldn’t overlook. He’d been a fool to believe he had nothing to lose by marrying her. The time they’d spent together had changed him. She’d added color and texture to his life. Companionship, humor, and caring.

  If he had known how bad this would hurt, would he have gone through with this crazy scheme to give her his name as a shield? In a heartbeat, came his answer. It had always been the right thing to do.

  “I’ll take your silence as agreement,” she said.

  “Of what?” He’d been lost in thought. “What did you say?”

  “That you think my figure will never be back to normal.”

  “Do you want to know what I was really thinking?” he asked.

  “Sure. I’m tough. I have four brothers who have the collective sensitivity of a bull elephant. There’s nothing you can say to me that will penetrate the thick, armadillo-like skin that I’ve spent years perfecting. I will—”

  He leaned over and placed his finger over her lips, silencing her. For several moments he just looked his fill at her, memorizing her features for the times when he couldn’t. He knew she wasn’t as thick-skinned as she pretended. The humor protected her tender heart. He wanted to leave her with more than his name. He wanted to give her the knowledge that she was a beautiful, desirable woman.

  The soft living room lights bathed her in a glow. Dark curls danced around her shoulders. One corner of her full, sensuous mouth curved up.

  He cupped her chin in his palm and rubbed her cheek with his thumb. “May lightning strike me if this isn’t the truth. I was just thinking that you have never looked more lovely than you do right now.”

  She blinked. “As compared to who? Broomhilda?”

  “As compared to no one. You are unique, Ro.”

  Her big brown eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “You’re lying through your teeth, but I’m going to disregard that and choose to believe you. B-because I’m a blimp and I w-want to.”

  He took her face in both hands and brushed the trickling tears away with his thumbs. “When are you going to stop putting yourself down and get the message that you are a knockout?”

  “When pigs fly.”

  “I’m serious, Ro.”

  “So am I. Desirable to whom? You?” Her look told him she knew the answer to that. He couldn’t say the words he wanted to, so he kissed her.

  When he pulled away, her gaze moved over his face. She curled her fingers around his wrist and said, “When are you going to stop believing that no one could care about you? You’re not the blackguard Nick thinks you are.”

  Her choice of words took the sting out of them and he couldn’t stop the half smile. But he was as bad as Nick thought him. He always had been. There had never been a time since meeting Rosie that he didn’t want her—including now.

  He slid close and put his arm around her, pulling her to his side. He felt her resistance melt away and she rested her cheek on his chest. His shirt grew wet from her tears.

  “Don’t cry.”

  “I can’t seem to help it lately. Songs on the radio make me blubber like a baby. There’s no rhyme or reason to it. Just hormones.” She shifted restlessly.

  “Are you uncomfortable?”

  “My back. I was on my feet a lot today in the store.”

  “Turn around. I’ll rub it for you.”

  She looked up at him and smiled. “Sainthood is yours. Saint Steve has the ring of alliteration to it.”

  He braced her with a hand on her shoulder, and put his palm on the small of her back, rubbing in a sort of circular pressing motion. She sighed in contentment. “Saint Steve Schafer, marvelous masseuse and master—Ahh,” she sighed contentedly.

  He continued the ministrations until she leaned

  “The baby’s moving a lot,” she said.

  “I can feel him.” He thought for a minute. “Do you think he can hear what we’re saying?”

  “I’ve read that they can. Although how anyone knows for sure since babies can’t come out and respond to a survey, is beyond me.”

  He held her and leaned slightly forward, aiming his words toward her tummy. “Okay, kid. I just want to let you know that everything is okay. You’re safe. Your grandparents and uncles are looking forward to meeting you. There are lots of people who love you. You’ve got the best mom in the world.”

  “With a family like that, he won’t even miss a dad,” she said wistfully. “I wonder if Wayne ever thinks about us.”

  “I’m sure he does. He cared about you, Ro.” What could the lie hurt? She never had to know that she was just a means to an end for the two-bit hustler. There was no way she could find out—

  He went still. The pictures? No. Surely her mother had disposed of the report he’d given her. He had to make sure. Tomorrow he would—

  “Damn.”

  “What is it?” she asked, straightening as she turned to look at him.

  “I just forgot something. My trip.” He was leaving on a crack-of-dawn flight. No way could he see Mrs. M. then. He would phone her when he had a chance. Steve looked at her. “Are you going to be all right alone while I’m out of town next week?”

  “Of course. I’m a big girl. I’m an—”

  “Independent woman. Yeah, yeah. I know the drill.”

  “Then my work here is done,” she said with a grin.

  “I still don’t like the idea of leaving you by yourself at this point in the pregnancy.”

  “Then I’ll tell you one more time why I don’t want to stay with my parents.” She held up her hand to count off the reasons on her fingers. “My mother is busy with preparations for the baby shower. I’m more comfortable here in my own place. They drive me crazy with don’t-you-feel-anything-yet phone calls. Up close and personal for a week would be too much. If anything happens, I can call someone, or in the worst case scenario, I’ll call a cab. Or 9-1-1.”

  “I don’t like this. I’ll put off the trip.”

  She shook her head. “No way. This is your moment of glory. You’ve worked to get this account for months.”

  “I’ll send someone else—”

  “They want you, Steve. You’re the best. Don’t worry. Like you said, I’m not due for another three weeks. Besides, first babies are always late.”

  “My luck isn’t that good.”

  “Your luck?” She laughed. “I’m the one big as a house with child. If it were up to me, I’d go now. But my theory is that the longer he’s in there, the better it is for him when he comes out.”

  “That does it.” He pointed at her. “Promise me you’ll hold off the birth until I get back.”

  She held up her hand, palm out. “I swear.”

  Following her mother’s explicit instructions, Rosie drove through to the alley and pulled into the garage

  Steve had been gone a week. It was a sneak preview of what it would be like when he was out of her life for good. She hadn’t liked what she saw. It wasn’t just loneliness, although she’d missed him terribly. But he made her happy, just by being there. Like the missing piece to a jigsaw puzzle, he had filled the hole in her soul, made her complete. She was afraid to give a name to what she felt, because there was only one word she could think of. She wouldn’t say it; she couldn’t bring herself to think it. There was another four-letter word that would describe him soon enough: g-o-n-e.

  She opened the rear gate, then walked past the pool to the house. The back door was locked. While she rummaged in her purse for the key, Rosie felt a twinge in her back. Must have spent too much time on her feet pacing the apartment. Soon she could sit and be the center of attention. There were a million and one things she would rather do, all of them with Steve.

  But the lure of the sweet baby things she would receive was irresistible. After the ultrasound, she had decided not to find out the baby’s sex. She didn’t regre
t her decision, but there was the matter of nursery furniture. She’d put two sets on layaway—one for a boy and one for a girl. If she wasn’t so determined to preserve the surprise, everything would be ready.

  She recalled her shock when Steve had volunteered to shop with her. Considering his resistance to the pastime, she gave him an A for going above and beyond the call of duty. She was glad he would be back today and the apartment wouldn’t be empty when she went home later that night.

  Rosie unlocked the door and let herself into the kitchen. Two ladies bustled around preparing food. She looked at the two strangers, one a tall brunette, the other smaller with pixie-cut blond hair. “I suppose you could tell that the shower’s for me.”

  The short woman nodded as she smiled. “We noticed.”

  “Is there something I can do to help?” Rosie asked politely.

  Both ladies shook their heads firmly. The tall one said, “You just go on in, and find your mother. Relax and have a good time. This is your day.”

  “Thanks.” Rosie started for the doorway. It wasn’t like Flo Marchetti not to be in the thick of things, directing traffic. “Do you know where she is?”

  The blonde looked thoughtful for a moment. “She disappeared right after a man showed up. I think she took him into her office.”

  “Thanks. I’ll find her.”

  That was odd, Rosie thought as she walked down the long hall toward her mother’s room at the front of the house. Who could be there? Her father and brothers had gone pale when she’d teased them about coming to a baby shower. They had made plans to be out doing something manly today, no doubt an activity that involved sweating and grunting. She couldn’t wait to see the man with her mother, the one brave enough to chance a houseful of cackling women.

  Her back spasmed again as she walked through the family room, and she stopped to rub it as she caught her breath. Whose idea was it to make a house this big? she thought crossly.

  Voices drifted to her as she got closer. She recognized her mother’s, and the man’s sounded familiar. But it couldn’t be. He wasn’t due home until tonight.

  “I forgot all about these until a week ago.” Steve? It was him. “You were never home when I called, and this wasn’t something I wanted to leave on a message machine.”

  “I’m not surprised.” That was her mother. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to destroy them? What if he comes back—”

  “He won’t. These prove his only interest in Rosie was financial. He got what he wanted. Money. Rosie is safe.”

  What in God’s name were they talking about? Destroy what? Whose interest in her? Could they be talking about Wayne? Why, after all these months?

  She rounded the corner and stopped in the doorway. Her mother sat behind her desk. Steve stood beside her looking down at something. He glanced up and without missing a beat shoved what looked like pictures into a manila envelope.

  “Hey, squirt,” he said.

  “Hi, yourself.” She moved into the room and stopped directly in front of the desk.

  “Rosie!” Her mother looked shocked: “You’re early.”

  “There’s a lot of that going around. I didn’t expect you until tonight,” she said to Steve.

  “I finished my business and caught the first available flight out.”

  A part of her mind registered the fact that he looked tired. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and welcome him home and say how much she’d missed her husband. Another part of her vibrated with the need to know what was going on here. What was in that envelope that would prove anything?

  Recovering her composure with an effort, Flo stood. “I’m glad you’re so early, Rosie. Let me show you the shower decorations in the living room.”

  “In a minute.” Without warning, she reached out and snatched the envelope before they could stop her. “But first I’d like to see what you and Steve find so fascinating.”

  He lifted a hand to take it from her. “It’s nothing, Ro. Just business. Why don’t you go with Mrs. M. and—”

  “No,” she said, backing away. She’d heard the expression “waiting for the other shoe to fall,” but had never understood it more keenly than this moment.

  She upended the envelope and photographs spilled out onto the desk. Grabbing one, she saw that it was Wayne in a passionate clinch with a woman. There was no question that it wasn’t Rosie. The stranger was blonde. She picked up another that showed the couple arm in arm coming out of a restaurant decorated for Christmas, then another with them entering a motel room. There was no mistaking the timing. Wayne had asked her to marry him a week after Thanksgiving.

  It took about three seconds for Rosie to figure out the scenario. Steve’s private investigator had tailed Wayne and came up with this evidence that Wayne was playing her for a fool. Not aware of her pregnancy, her mother had sent Steve to buy him off.

  “The meddling Marchettis strike again,” she said under her breath. She felt as if she’d been slapped, but it had nothing to do with Wayne. She had never cared about him enough to hurt like this. It was so much worse than she could ever have imagined. Steve had witnessed every humiliating moment of her life, but this was the topper.

  “Mother, I’d like to speak to Steve alone.”

  “Rosie, honey—”

  “Please, Ma.”

  The older woman nodded and reluctantly left the room.

  Her back spasmed again, but she ignored it as she looked at Steve. “I suppose you feel validated. You have hard-copy proof that you’re not the only man who doesn’t want me.”

  “Rosie, listen—”

  “Let’s call a spade a spade. Any feelings you have for me are pity, pure and simple.”

  “I never felt sorry for you.”

  Shock was the only explanation for the fact that she was still standing. She couldn’t afford to let the pain in. But she had to know the truth.

  “Then explain why you made love to me. What other motivation could there be for those kisses? You made it clear from the beginning that the marriage would have a beginning and an end. Did the middle include tossing me a few crumbs of self-esteem so you wouldn’t get bored?”

  “That never entered my mind.” He came around the desk and reached for her.

  “Don’t touch me,” she said, backing away. The pain was starting and she didn’t want to feel it. That much misery couldn’t be good for her, but especially

  “Rosie, don’t cry. Listen to me, squirt—”

  “Don’t call me that!” She glared at him in spite of the tears rolling down her cheeks. Angrily she wiped away the moisture. “I hate when you call me that.”

  “We have to talk.”

  “There’s nothing to say.” She held up a finger. “No, wait. I owe you thanks for letting the baby and I borrow your last name. I just don’t understand the song and dance about us living together. And this business of saving my brothers from themselves. I don’t get it. What was that—”

  A sudden grinding pain started in her back and tightened all the way around her abdomen. The agony doubled her over.

  She squeezed hard when Steve took her hands. “Rosie? Is it the baby?”

  Unable to speak through the contraction, she nodded.

  “Oh, God,” he said. “It’s too early. This is my fault.”

  Then he lifted her in his arms. Through a haze of pain and fear, she heard him call for her mother and explain that he was taking her to the hospital. He carried her out front to his car, all the while muttering that she had to be all right. He was the world’s biggest ass.

  Rosie leaned back against the seat, resting. She welcomed the physical pain. She harnessed her

  It took her mind off Steve and the hard-copy proof that he didn’t love her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Steve stood by the hospital bed as Rosie held her new baby. Watching her cradle her daughter, wrapped up cocoon-like -with her tiny head covered in a pink-and-blue knit cap, he swallowed the lump in his throat. After about twelve hours she’d gi
ven birth, and now he knew why it was called labor. If he could have taken her pain himself, he would have.

  Seeing her go through that had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. It had pushed away all their problems and pulled them together, united in their efforts to bring this precious child into the world. All the while Rosie had worked, he had been so afraid that the shock and upset of seeing those pictures had made the baby come too early. And because of that, something might happen to the baby, and Rosie.

  “How do you feel?” he asked.

  “I’m sore, but I feel—” She stopped and he could tell she was searching for the words. “This is the most wonderful experience I’ve ever had. No wonder

  Steve rubbed his eyes, then ran a hand through his hair. He hadn’t slept for two days. He’d taken an earlier flight to get home as soon as possible, then he’d decided to get back those damn pictures before going home to Rosie.

  During the week he’d been gone, he’d thought about her and how he hated being away from her. More than once he’d thought about telling her what was in his heart and had finally decided there would be no peace until he did. But after seeing those damn pictures, she’d come to her own conclusions, all of them bad. She wouldn’t believe that he loved her. He’d never seen her that upset. If anything had happened to her or the baby... He couldn’t even think about that.

  He would never have forgiven himself.

  Thank God everything had gone textbook perfect, but now the adrenaline was wearing off. He felt like roadkill and probably looked worse. But Rosie was the one who had done all the work and she looked amazing. He’d never seen her more beautiful. The sight of her, with love shining in her eyes, unable to stop looking at the baby, was the most incredible thing he’d ever seen. Instinct, fierce and furious, tightened his gut. He wanted to wrap his arms around both of them and keep the bad stuff away.

  If any guy ever hurt that little baby girl the way he had Rosie, he would hunt him down and make him pay. Was this the way Nick felt, trying to protect his sister from someone like himself? The light went on in his weary mind. No wonder her brother had reacted