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“What’ll we name him?”

She’d been reluctant to talk too much about the baby that was due next summer, so he took it as a good sign when she asked about a name.
 

“I’m thinking Malcolm John the Third has a nice ring to it.”

“We can’t call him Mac. We’ve got too many Macs as it is.”

“A family can never have too many Macs,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. “That’s what you think.”

“We’ll call him Malcolm. Why not? It’s a good name. His friends will call him Mal. I like that.”

“I like it, too. What if he is a
she
?”

“Since there’s no way in hell she’s going to be born during a tropical storm the way Hailey was, we’ll have to come up with something for a girl that isn’t the name of a storm.”

“We’ve got plenty of time.”

“Go back to sleep for a while, hon. I’ll get up with the kids.”

“You’re the best husband I’ve ever had,” she murmured.

“I’d better be the only husband you ever have, Mrs. McCarthy.”

“Mmm, no one else but you.”

That was all he needed to hear. Someday they’d be celebrating their fortieth anniversary. He had absolutely no doubt about that.

In Providence, Adam McCarthy woke to the sound of sobs coming from the bathroom in the hotel room he’d shared with his fiancée, Abby Callahan. Hearing her heartbroken sounds reminded him of the disastrous day they’d endured yesterday when Abby had been diagnosed with something neither of them had ever heard of—polycystic ovary syndrome.

At least they now knew why, despite a year of nearly constant effort, they had yet to conceive the child they both wanted so badly. And now it was quite possible they never would, thanks to a silent but virulent disorder that would require lifelong management.
 

Abby had been despondent since hearing the devastating news, and Adam was still trying to process what it meant. After she cried herself to sleep the night before, he’d spent hours on the Internet and had come away terrified for both of them. Conceiving a baby was now the least of their concerns, with the possibility of diabetes, cancer, heart disease and other life-threatening illnesses looming over her.

He got up to knock on the bathroom door. “Abs? Let me in, honey.”

“No.”

“Abby…please. I need you.” After more than a year together, he knew what to say to get her attention, and she was a sucker for him when he needed her. Today was no different. The lock on the door popped open, and he had to suppress a gasp when he saw the ravages of grief and despair etched into her gorgeous face. He put his arms around her. “Come here, honey.”

She shook her head and pushed him away. “No.”

His Abby, the woman he loved more than he’d ever loved anyone in his life, never said no to him. And she never pushed him away. Placing his hands on her shoulders so she couldn’t turn away, he said, “Baby, listen to me. We’re going to deal with this together. We’ll get the information we need. We’ll find the best doctors in the country, and we’ll fight it together.”

She shook her head. “No, we won’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“I won’t subject you to this. You want children, not a barren wife who’ll have male-pattern baldness and hair in places it doesn’t belong, not to mention cancer and other hideous things.” She shook her head adamantly. “This is
not
your problem.”

Adam stared at her as if she were someone he’d never met before.
This
Abby was someone he didn’t recognize. “You’re not thinking clearly today—”

“I’m thinking very clearly, and you’re young enough to find someone else—”

He put his hand over her mouth to stop her from saying something that couldn’t be unsaid—or unheard. “Stop. Just stop that right now. There is no one else in this world for me. Only you. And you can push me away and reject me and tell me you don’t love me anymore, but I’m not going anywhere.”

Tears poured down her cheeks as she shook her head. “You don’t know what you’re signing on for.”

“I already signed the papers.” He reached for her left hand and touched the engagement ring he’d put there months ago.

“We’re not married yet. Nothing says we have to go through with it.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. I’m going to pretend you’re not trying to push me away because something has happened that we didn’t see coming. I’m going to pretend you’d let me get away with this shit if the shoe were on the other foot. If I pretend all that, I won’t be tempted to remind you that you love me and you made a commitment to me and you owe me better than this, regardless of what any doctors might have to say.”

Tears streamed down her face. “It’s not fair to you, Adam.”

“Neither is you reneging on promises you made to me.”

“I’d never renege on those promises under normal circumstances, but this is too much to ask of anyone, especially someone like you, who could have any woman—”

He’d heard more than enough, so he stifled her protests the only way he could think of, by yanking her into his embrace and kissing her until he was all but certain she had forgotten that she’d been trying to push him away. Moving slowly and carefully, he backed her out of the bathroom and eased her onto the bed, coming down on top of her without breaking the kiss.

When her arms encircled his neck, the tension that had gathered in Adam’s chest began to ease ever so slightly. “I love you,” he whispered gruffly when they finally came up for air many minutes later. “I love you and only you. I love you in good times, bad times, healthy times, sick times and every other minute in between. My love is not conditional on you being perfect. It’s not conditional on you being able to bear children. It’s not conditional on anything other than you loving me back, and until about five minutes ago, I thought you loved me as much as I love you.”

“I do,
but
—”

He kissed her again. “No buts, no conditions, no nothing but you and me staring this thing down together, no matter what might happen. And P.S., the doctors didn’t say having babies was hopeless. They said it would take some doing. So we’ll do what we’ve got to do, no matter what it is, and we will get through this and every other goddamned thing that comes our way, because I’m not going anywhere and neither are you. I’m sorry to say you’re stuck with me.”

“What if I go bald and grow a beard?”

“Then I’ll kiss your sweet bald head and teach you how to shave.”

“Adam…I’m serious.”

“So am I. Do you think I care if something you can’t help happens to you? Do you think I’ll love you only when you’re young and beautiful?”

“I could get really heavy.” She’d put on a few pounds in the last year that he knew she was stressed about.

“That’s just more of you to love.”

“You say that now…”

“I say that forever. In fact, we’re getting married New Year’s Eve.” He decided that as he said the words. “No more delays, no more waffling, no more of anything other than you and me married. You’ve got your dress, and everyone will be home for the holidays. It’s on.”

“Adam, you’re just saying that—”

“Because I want to be married to you more than I want anything in this world.”

“You’re awfully rude this morning.”

“Likewise, my love. It’s awfully rude of you to think I’m going to run for the hills at the first sign of trouble.”

“This isn’t just trouble. It’s a life sentence.”

“If that’s how you’d like to view our marriage…”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“I do know, and a far worse life sentence for me would be life without you. So don’t condemn me to that by thinking I can’t handle what’s ahead, no matter what it may be. I can handle it as long as I have you and we have each other. Everything else is secondary to that.”

She released a deep, shuddering breath marked by the hitches that came from hours of crying. “You’re sure about this?”

He kissed her again. “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life. Ever. Remember that first week we spent together?”

“As if I could ever forget it.” She traced the outline of the Gansett Island tattoo on his bicep.

“And when we were apart, when I was back in New York for those interminable weeks…I thought I’d die from missing you. I couldn’t wait to get everything wrapped up there so I could come home to you. I still feel that way, every day when I go to work on someone’s malfunctioning computer. Every minute I’m away from you, I’m counting down until I can get home to you. There is nothing, and I do mean
nothing
, that could make me not want to go home to you, Abs. Not even something I can hardly pronounce.”

“Polycystic ovary syndrome.”

“Not even that.” He kissed her again, lingering when she responded enthusiastically, the way she usually did. That gave him hope that he could eventually disabuse her of the idea that he couldn’t handle this. “So New Year’s Eve… It’s on, yes? I’ll take care of everything. All you’ll have to do is show up looking gorgeous as usual.”

“Okay.”

If her one-word response lacked enthusiasm, well, he had eleven days to work on that before they exchanged vows. He was determined to be everything she needed and to stand by her no matter what might come their way.

In Nashville, Tennessee, Evan McCarthy woke to the supreme pleasure of his fiancée, Grace, in his arms after she’d surprised him on the final night of his three-week tour with superstar Buddy Longstreet. Evan’s single, “My Amazing Grace,” written to honor the love of his life, was charting in the top three on all the industry lists, which was a surprise to no one but him, apparently.

Buddy said he’d known the song would be a smash hit the first time he heard it, and last night, after their show, Buddy had taken him aside with yet another plea to continue pursuing music. “You’d be a fool to go back to your studio on the island when you have a song in the top three, Evan,” Buddy had said in his typically blunt way. “This is your moment.
Carpe diem
.”

Buddy’s words had upended his plans to rush home to Grace and Island Breeze Records the minute the last show ended. And then Grace had further upended his plans, in the best possible way, by being naked in his bed when he returned to the hotel. Best. Surprise. Ever. He’d missed her so much, even though he’d talked to her several times a day, FaceTimed with her every night and engaged in an unseemly amount of phone sex.
 

There was nothing, absolutely
nothing
, like the real thing when it came to his amazing Grace. He was a little ashamed of how rough he’d been with her last night after missing her so desperately while he was away. But she’d been right there with him, encouraging him to take anything and everything he needed from her.

He ran his hand over the soft skin on her back, touching her because he could. If you’d told him a couple of years ago that he’d be so in love with one woman that he’d turn his back on stardom, he might’ve suggested you have your head examined. But now that he had her, everything else had taken a backseat to their life together. And it would continue to, he decided right in that moment.

Even Buddy’s promises of stardom like he’d once dreamed of weren’t enough to lure him away from Grace or the home they’d made together on the island. It wasn’t enough to turn his back on a year of hard work building the studio or getting it up and running. The weeks on stage had reminded him of a time in his life when
everything
was an epic struggle.

BOOK: CelebrationAfterDarkKobo
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