Bled Dry (12 page)

Ringo climbed carefully out of bed and stretched, watching Kelsey sleep. There was no sign of movement other than her naked chest rising and falling steadily. He almost regretted what he was about to do. Almost.

Traveling with Kelsey wasn’t bad. She had been brilliant in distracting the guard back at Carrick’s hotel in Vegas, and she hadn’t given much of a protest when he had suggested they extend their honeymoon, see the country, that sort of shit, even though they both knew he was breaking vampire law. She didn’t complain that he had her staying in flea-bag motels to save cash, and she gave amazing head.

It wasn’t exactly total hell being married to her. He had learned how to block her so she couldn’t get inside his head and pick through his thoughts, and she liked live feeding from humans as much as he did.

They were kind of a pair, he had to admit, and it was a damn shame that he couldn’t tell her the truth about why he had married her. But she was fucking clueless, had no idea what he was up to, and it was better that way.

Ringo got dressed in the dark and went out the door, clicking it shut behind him, the last of their cash in his pocket.

Kelsey sat up in bed and pulled on the jeans and sweatshirt she had conveniently set on the chair next to the bed. The motel room had a musty odor and the sheets were damp, so she wouldn’t be sorry to leave it. Gathering her prepacked messenger bag and slipping it over her shoulder, she stepped into her black and red gym shoes and headed toward the door.

Her husband was going to meet Donatelli and she had every intention of being with him when he did.

Brittany walked behind Corbin in the hallway and nearly slammed into him when he came to a screeching halt outside the hospital classroom.

“Maybe zis is not a good idea,” he said, turning around, panic in his green eyes. “They will know I am not a normal father to be.”

She suspected his fear had more to do with changing a diaper than the off-chance that his vampiric status would be revealed. She tried not to smile. “Do you really want to leave? That’s fine. I’ll just drive myself home after my Intro to Childbirth class.”

The panic changed to guilt. He shook his head. “No, no, of course not. It will be fine. I will go to my class, you to yours, and we will leave together as planned. But first I will escort you into your class.”

Like she was that stupid. He was going to walk her in, then ditch out on his class and return only in time to pick her up. It was written all over his face. She could understand his fears—heck, she was freaked out about being able to handle a baby herself, and she wasn’t a two-hundred-year-old vampire. But this had been his idea, and it was a good one. Clearly, he realized he could use a little guidance. They both could, and she wasn’t going to let him chicken out.

“Let’s go and check you into your class first. I want to meet the instructor. Then you can walk me into my class.” She smiled brightly at him. It had been an incredibly awkward week, with neither of them sure how to proceed in their relationship. It didn’t seem natural to leap back into bed again, not when she found herself unsure if she could trust him, doubting that he had meant those wonderful promises he had made when they were naked. She figured an easy seventy-five percent of what a man said needed to be dismissed if his penis was erect at the time of speaking. Hell, she had exaggerated herself when she was in flagrante delicto with a guy or two in the past, saying things like “that’s the biggest one I’ve ever seen” or “no, I never tell people what we do in bed,” both of which were total lies. She’d yet to see one so big it was worth special attention, and she had told her girlfriend Teresa all kinds of juicy details while giggling. But Teresa had moved to Portland and they talked only once a month, and that was then. This was now, and she hadn’t lied about anything with Corbin.

But she didn’t know him well enough to understand why he did the things he did. She just wasn’t sure why he had made love to her so sensually, then not spoken to her for eight weeks. It made it difficult to trust. So while they had spent the week politely circling around each other, she had concentrated on learning about Corbin, trying to gauge his moods and recognize why he acted the way he did and said the things he did. She wanted to get to know him, and they both needed to accept they had done everything ass-backward yet again and try to pick forward delicately.

Corbin hesitated for only a second before his manners kicked in. “Of course, my dear, if that is what you wish.” He held the door open for her.

Brittany walked into the room, noting three other men already sitting in chairs, two looking ill at ease, one looking eager and raring to go. The instructor was pulling a sheaf of papers out of his bag.

“Howdy,” he said as they approached, giving them both a smile. “Are you registered for the class?”

“My... ” Brittany pointed to Corbin. What the hell did she call him? Vampire lover? Sperm donor? Favorite mistake? “He’s taking the class. I’m taking the childbirth class in the room next door, but I just wanted to introduce myself and say thank you in advance. I’m sure it will be very reassuring for Corbin to hear your thoughts and advice.”

“Well, I’m glad your husband could make the class, and I’ll try not to scare him too bad.” The instructor winked at her. He stuck his hand out to Corbin. “Sam Adams. Like the beer.”

“This is Corbin Atelier,” Brittany said, suddenly nervous about leaving Corbin alone with modern American men. Mortal men. “And I’m Brittany.”

Sam’s eyebrow went up at her as Corbin shook his hand. “Nice to meet you both. Enjoy your childbirth class, Brittany,” Sam said rather pointedly.

“Thanks.” She hovered for a second until Corbin said something to her in French. She smiled, pretending she had a clue what he was saying. “Okay, sweetie.” Her feet weren’t moving.

“Okay,” she said again, putting her purse strap back up on her shoulder, but still rooted to the floor. Corbin stared at her. “Well, I guess I’d better go.”

“I will see you in two hours,” Corbin said. “Unless you’d like me to walk you to your class.”

“No, no, that’s okay.” Now that she had him in the room, she didn’t want him out until the class had concluded. “Okay, then. Bye.” She gave a little wave and forced herself to leave.

She had a bad feeling about this.

Corbin watched Brittany pause yet again in the doorway and wave at him. He raised his hand back and gave a sigh.

“Driving you nuts?” Sam asked. “Women react differently to pregnancy. It’s normal for her to be a little clingy.”

There was nothing normal about their relationship, and
clingy
didn’t even begin to cover the problem. “It is just I do not have any experience with children, so she is worried. And this pregnancy, it arrived sooner than we expected.” Like sooner than never.

“Ahhh.” Sam nodded in understanding. He clapped Corbin on the shoulder. “But no worries. You’ll learn your way around a baby soon enough. And this class will jump-start what you need to know.”

“Excellent.”

“Come meet the other guys.” Sam moved to the front of the room. “Alright, get in closer here so I don’t have to shout. I want to hear your name, what you do for a living, and the ETD. Estimated time of delivery.” He grinned.

Corbin chose a seat to the left, not wanting to be front and center. A young man with multiple tattoos and a rather painful-looking lip piercing sat next to him.

“’Sup?” he said, giving Corbin a nod.

It appeared the evening was going to tax his English skills. Corbin nodded back. “Hello.”

Sam pointed to the man in a blue button-up shirt. “Name, occupation, ETD.”

“Dave Robinson. I’m a loan officer. My wife is due January seventeenth and it’s a boy.”

“Congrats,” Sam said.

“Thanks.” Dave beamed.

Sam pointed to the next guy.

“I’m Jason Sikorski. I’m a cop. And my wife is due February thirteenth. She’s hoping for a Valentine’s baby. We don’t know the sex.”

“Hey, surprises are good.” Sam moved on to the tattoo man.

“Travis Short. I’m in landscaping. Due date December twenty-eighth.” He grinned. “The wife is ready to pop.”

Sam then looked at Corbin expectantly so he cleared his throat. “I am Corbin Atelier and I am a research scientist. I am not exactly sure when Brittany is due. Sometime in April. I think.”

Every face turned to him, clearly appalled.

“Dude,” Travis said, shaking his head.

Sam’s finger came out. “First things first. It’s time to get yourself informed. A hundred bucks says your wife and every female relative you both have all know exactly when the baby is due. You need to share the load with her, man, show her you’re in this together.”

“Well, zis was a surprise,” he said, feeling the need to defend himself.

“Even more reason to get on board. She’s probably worried you don’t really want this baby. You been to the doctor with her yet?”

“No.” He wasn’t even sure if she had been to the doctor. He must have asked at one point. He was almost sure he had. She had said everything was fine, he remembered that, so he must have asked her something. Crossing his arms over his chest, he added, “I work nights. It makes scheduling difficult.”

Four pairs of reproachful eyes stared at him. Corbin felt the juvenile urge to flash his fangs and scare the daylights out of them. Who were they to judge him? They did not know his situation, they did not know what he and Brittany were dealing with.

“Well, you’re here. That’s a start,” Sam said. “I’m sure your wife will appreciate it if you pay attention. And if language is a barrier, we’ve got handouts. Your wife can translate it for you.”

“I am paying attention and I do not need a translator. My English is sufficient.” Corbin was completely offended. He had spent half of his childhood in England. He did not need a translator. Not to mention as far as he knew Brittany did not know a single word in French except for
oui
. And that he only knew because when he had whispered a very sexual suggestion to her in bed, she had responded with a resounding
oui
.

“So you guys know all about the birth process, all about the physical stuff.”

Not really.

“So that’s not what we’re here to talk about. We’re here to talk about what happens after that baby comes home from the hospital. Your wife is going to be exhausted and emotional. Excited but unsure of herself. You need to be there for her, with all kinds of reassurance regarding both her mothering skills and her appearance. She’s going to leave that hospital still wearing her maternity clothes and feeling pretty lousy about that. Make sure you’re considerate of how she might be feeling.”

Corbin shifted uncomfortably. The problem when you had the type of relationship he and Brittany did was that you could not follow the standard rules. He wasn’t sure it was his place to be telling Brittany she still looked attractive after giving birth, or if she would take that the wrong way.

This was why they needed to get married. He did not appreciate all these complications and uncertainties.

“Your other main jobs are going to be shielding her from overenthusiastic friends and family, and helping her with breast-feeding.”

“Um,” Travis said. “How do we help with breastfeeding? I mean, she’s got to do it, man, she’s the one with the goods.”

Exactly what Corbin had been thinking. He could not fathom how he could assist in that endeavor.

“A lot of new moms struggle to find the right position for the baby, and if she’s had a C-section, she’s going to have discomfort at the incision. You can help by getting the baby and giving him to her, and helping the baby latch on.”