Harlequin Special Edition October 2015, Box Set 1 of 2 (24 page)

Her eyes narrowed into slits and she sniffed. “
That
is such a male thing to say.”

Well. Not really. Now, if he'd said he couldn't imagine how large her breasts would get, that would be a male thing to say. Wisely, he kept that thought to himself.

The image, however, stuck.

“On the other hand,” she said in a false, overly bright tone, “trying to imagine you as the father to three girls, who would someday become three emotionally high-strung teenage girls—with boyfriends, I might add—is almost worth the possibility of having triplets.”

“That's a fairly large leap. For one,” he said, ignoring the cold shudder of fear sweeping through him, “the chance of having three babies is so incredibly low, it's basically nonexistent. Second, even if that were to happen, we could have three boys. Or, for that matter, a mixed lot.”

“Hmm. Yes, you're absolutely correct,” she said in a sugary, sweet-as-pie sort of way. “I wonder what the actual probability of triplets is? Do you think it's higher or lower than the probability of becoming pregnant while using a condom?”

“Lower, Anna. Much, much lower,” he said. He was about to pull out his phone and do a quick search, to back up his statement with solid fact, when the ultrasound technician entered the room. Soon enough now, they'd know exactly how many babies to expect.

But he had learned a valuable lesson. Never again would he joke about the size of a pregnant woman's stomach. Even in the abstract. Even if his reasoning was meant to be positive.

The ultrasound technician—her name tag read Julie—approached the examining table. “Are you two ready to get started, or do you need more time?”

“We are definitely ready,” Anna said.

“The sooner the better,” Logan said, half under his breath.

“Okay, good.” Julie came around to the other side of the table, saying, “What we're doing today is called an anomaly scan. I'll be looking to see if your baby is developing normally. And if we're lucky and your baby is in the correct position, I should be able to identify if you're having a boy or a girl.” She smiled at both of them. “Unless you'd rather not know?”

Logan darted a glance at Anna. They'd discussed twins and triplets and missing limbs, but they hadn't talked about this. He wanted to know if they were having a son or a daughter, for sure, but he'd let her make the call. “What do you think, Anna? Any preferences here?”

“I'd like to know,” she said, returning his gaze. “I think it will be easier for us to plan.”

“Seems we're in agreement,” he said to Julie. “Boy or girl, let us know.”

Nodding, Julie pushed up Anna's shirt and then rolled down the sheet that covered her lower body. Without warning, Logan became...transfixed.

By the sight in front of him. By the awareness that his baby was safely nestled within the gentle swell of Anna's stomach. By the reality of what was about to happen. Reaching over, humbled by a wash of shocked gratitude, he grasped Anna's hand.

“I'm nervous,” Anna repeated.

“I've been doing this for a long while,” Julie said as she squeezed some goop on Anna's stomach, “and the vast majority of the time, babies grow just fine and everything is exactly how it should be. I know this is scary, but try not to worry too much.”

Logan hoped her words offered Anna some comfort, but he knew that sometimes, things weren't exactly as they should be. Some couples had entered this room with excitement and anticipation, hope and curiosity, only to learn that they did, indeed, have plenty to worry about.

All he could do was pray they'd fall into the majority.

“So,” Julie said, picking up the transducer and gently pressing it against the soft curve of Anna's stomach, “let's see what this little one is up to, shall we?”

An image appeared on the screen, causing Anna to take a sharp breath of surprise, and Logan... Well, he clean forgot about anything and everything else. Because there, in front of him, was a moving picture of his child. Initially, what he saw looked more alien than human, but he soon identified arms and hands, legs and feet. Nothing appeared to be missing limb-wise, and there did not seem to be anything extra. Including a second or—God help them both—a third baby.

Neither he nor Anna spoke. They just stared in wonder. Julie switched on the speakers, and the soft, steady rhythm of the baby's heartbeat filled the room. He tightened his hold on Anna's hand, knowing he couldn't talk in the midst of such intense emotion.

This baby was theirs, to nurture and guide and protect. This baby would have a voice and opinions, would someday go to school. He or she would have likes and dislikes and dreams for the future. This child would feel love and happiness, anger and sadness, and would form decisions throughout his or her life. Some good, some bad.

And Logan would be there, every single step of the way.

Perhaps for the first time since learning of Anna's pregnancy, Logan wholly understood that they had created a
life
. An entire new person who would, in one way or another, put his or her mark on this world. It didn't matter in the slightest if that mark was large or small or somewhere in the middle. All that mattered was the reality, the miracle, of this baby.

Lord. If he hadn't decided to have a drink that night in June, if Anna hadn't decided the same, this person—this
life
—would not exist. Less than twenty minutes had passed since he'd walked into this room with Anna, but already, something fundamental had changed.

He would never, for as long as he took in air, be quite the same man again.

One look at Anna showed she was processing her own set of powerful, likely similar, emotions. And to him, in that instant, she was easily the most beautiful and breathtaking woman he'd ever seen. Sure, it took two to tango, but he felt as if she'd bestowed on him a gift. A precious—no, a
priceless
—and remarkable gift. Two of them, actually.

The baby and the man he had just become.

Leaning over, he gave her a gentle, quick kiss on her forehead. “Thank you,” he whispered. And then, because he couldn't stop himself, he gave her another kiss. Equally as gentle, equally as quick, but this time on her lips. She blinked when they separated.

In surprise, no doubt.

“Well, look at that,” Julie said, grabbing their attention. She nodded toward the screen. “Your baby is cooperating. It seems
she
wants to make herself known to her parents.”

“A girl?” Anna said. “You're sure?”

“I'm sure enough that I'd bet on it.”

A
girl
. They were having a daughter.
He
was having a daughter. How about that?

“Oh. Oh!” Anna blinked again and a wash of tears filled her eyes. “I hadn't thought one way or the other, but now...now that feels right. Of course she's a girl!”

Julie started talking again, explaining that she was about to measure the circumference of their daughter's head, but Logan was lost in Anna. In her eyes, in her expression, in her smile.

In everything to do with her, he was just lost.

And like her, he felt the same about the rightness of having a daughter. Almost as if he should have known all along. “Of course she's a girl. If she's lucky, she'll look just like you.”

Anna's smile widened and a faint pink blush dripped over her cheeks. She turned her gaze toward the screen again, let out a contented sigh and said, “She's lucky, regardless, because she has us. But I think we're even luckier, since we have her.”

And Logan couldn't have agreed more.

Chapter Five

S
ince the day they learned they were having a daughter, everything between Anna and Logan had just seemed easier. They were both relieved, naturally, that the baby appeared to be perfectly healthy and growing just as she should, but there was also this lovely, quiet type of exuberance that had slowly come into being. Seemingly with little effort, they were enveloped in their own world, buoyed by the shared experience of seeing their daughter.

In addition to the stuffed teddy bear they'd purchased the day after their wedding, they went out again and bought a cuddly pink sleeper and, because they couldn't resist, two toys their baby wouldn't play with for some time to come: her first doll and a bright red fire truck. Logan's assessment was that they shouldn't assume their daughter would want to play only with the traditionally accepted girl toys. And Anna's thoughts aligned with his.

So yes, while she couldn't deny that these were still the early days and
anything
could happen, this platonic-partnership idea seemed to be flourishing. Day-to-day living with Logan had become a comfortable, compatible rhythm in which they typically shared breakfast, went on with their individual routines and then spent the evenings together.

When Logan was at the ranch—he'd been in Wyoming all of last week—he phoned each night, just as he had before the wedding. Oh, they never talked for long, but their conversations maintained their connection and served to keep them on the solid ground they'd located. Other than her health, they did not cross into personal areas. He didn't say he missed her, and she hadn't mentioned how empty the house had felt without him.

They were getting along well, so why muddy the tranquil waters with messy emotions that, in the long run, didn't really mean much of anything?

Logan had returned home last night, and today was Thanksgiving. She had told him that he could stay in Wyoming to celebrate the holiday with his family, that she would be fine. He'd stated, rather unequivocally, that he
was
going to spend the holiday with his family: her, his unborn daughter and his brother and sister-in-law, Gavin and Haley.

And even though she reminded herself that this, too, meant nothing in the long run—to think otherwise would be foolish—a glow of happiness had overtaken Anna at his words.

His choice was to be here. With her.

In the kitchen, Anna hummed and finished covering the four pies she'd baked—two pumpkin, one apple and one pecan—with plastic wrap. They were leaving for Gavin's shortly. All of Haley's family would be there, and Haley had kindly invited Anna's aunt, as well. So Logan and Anna were stopping by Lola's to pick her up.

It was a big group, celebrating Thanksgiving together. This was something that Anna was thrilled about. Living in Texas, she hadn't had a true family holiday in years, and really, even longer when she considered the barely recognized, awkward holidays after her mother's death and before her aunt had brought Anna and Laurel into her home. And while the Thanksgivings and Christmases with Lola had been better than that strange, in-between time, they were still on the small and casual side.

Nice, yes, and Anna had no complaints, but she was excited that today
felt
like the old-fashioned Thanksgivings she remembered from her early childhood, when her mother had invited neighbors and friends and family. Loud and boisterous—she could only assume that would be the case with so many people—and
happy
. Also, she just felt incredibly thankful this year. More so than she had in a long, long while.

Still humming, she stacked the pies two by two in a cardboard box for easy transit, and just as she started to leave the kitchen, a series of...bubbling gurgles sort of fizzled and popped in her stomach. Realization that this was her daughter, again making herself known, hit fast and hard. Delight and a flurry of excitement quickly followed.

“Logan!” she called. “Come here. Fast!”

She put her hand on her stomach but couldn't tell if she actually felt the movement against her palm or if the entirety of what she was experiencing was internal. But she didn't much care, either. Logan needed to be a part of this.

“Logan! Oh my God, get in here!” she yelled out again. “You—”

“What's wrong?” he said as he raced into the room. He stopped, frantically gave her the once-over and, apparently seeing she wasn't in distress, exhaled a long breath. Even so, the next words out of his mouth were “Are you okay? Is the baby okay?”

She nodded. “I wanted—”

“I thought there was a problem.” Closing his eyes for a second, Logan expelled another drawn-out breath. When he opened them again, his expression was one of forced calmness. “Okay, I'm here. What's going on? What do you need?”

“I...I'm sorry,” she said as her brain absorbed his words and his demeanor. Of course he thought there was a problem. What had she been thinking, yelling like that? “I didn't mean to scare you. My excitement got the best of me, and I guess I just wanted you to be a part of it.”

“There isn't anything to apologize for,” he said in a gruff manner. “I jumped to a conclusion that was false. I'd say that's on me, not you. So, let's start again.” He smiled and the tension percolating between them lessened. “What did you want to tell me?”

“The baby was kicking or tumbling, and this is the first time I've really felt her move. I wanted to share that with you, see if you could feel her, too.” Anna held out her hand, trying to regain her earlier enthusiasm. “I don't feel her as much now, but...do you want to try?”

“Yes,” he said instantly, stepping forward and taking her hand. “Show me where?”

Slightly lifting her shirt with her other hand, Anna placed Logan's palm on her stomach, directly against her skin, where she felt the most movement. Now, rather than a fizzling pop, the sensation was fainter. Gentler. She doubted Logan would feel anything.

A moment later, the disappointment etched into his features confirmed that was the case. “Nothing,” he said. “Maybe next time.”

“Well, wait a minute.” Anna sent a silent plea to their daughter, asking her to kick and twirl and spin—whatever it took—because she wanted so much to share this moment with Logan. “Give her a chance to switch positions or do another somersault or something.”

Logan knelt down and, with his hand still pressed tight against her stomach, leaned in close. “Hey there, princess,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “This is your daddy. Nothing would make me happier today than to feel you kick. Can you do me that favor?”

A wash of heat wound tight in Anna's belly and stretched through her body, limb by limb, until she was saturated with want. Need. Oh hell, with
desire
. Because standing here, with Logan so close, in such an intimate moment, brought forth all sorts of images from their night together. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe the images into nonexistence.

But they were stubborn and flashed through her mind, one after another, in excruciating, vivid detail. How he'd kissed her, long and slow and with purpose, in a potent mix of passion and tenderness and strength. How he'd taken his time to make sure she was as satisfied as he, and how he had grinned when she'd finally given in and moaned.

That night, he said he'd never heard another woman make quite the same sound, and his intention was to have her moan just like that again and again and again before they were done. And oh yes, he most certainly had.

It had been a long, delicious night, unlike any other. Hours later, when she assumed he'd prefer her to leave rather than spend the entire night, he proved her wrong. She had used the bathroom, and was attempting to put on her clothes as quietly as possible, when Logan had opened one eye and said it was late, morning was only a few hours away and she should stay.

She remembered now that he'd held her for those few hours, had grazed her neck with his mouth, and all of it—every action done and every word spoken—had felt as natural as breathing. When morning arrived, they'd shared coffee and light conversation, and after a shower, she'd headed to her aunt's house. And even then, she hadn't experienced any shame or embarrassment over her out-of-the-ordinary behavior. Or really, any regret.

For her first—and very likely, her last—one-night stand, she couldn't have asked for a better experience with a hotter, sexier or...sweeter man. He'd remained respectful of her, from the first minute they met to the second she walked out of his hotel.

“I see how it is,” Logan was saying to her stomach, his voice a deep thrum that seemed to penetrate through her skin. “You're already a headstrong female, aren't you? You'll let me feel you move when you're good and ready and not a second before.”

And Anna had to use every ounce of her willpower not to reach out and touch Logan. His cheek, his jaw, his hair. Any part of him, really. Forcing lightness into her voice, she said, “It's probably too soon for you to feel her, but I wanted to try.”

Standing, Logan smiled. “Thank you for the opportunity. Now,” he said, glancing at his watch, “we should probably get moving. Are you all set or do you need anything from me?”

Idly and with some humor, she wondered what he would say if she announced that, yes, she did require something from him. Something specific that only he could provide: a repeat of their night together. Or several repeats, if the way she was feeling now was any indication.

Another round of heat filtered in at the possibility. He'd likely remind her in his oh-so-kind and considerate way that they had left sex off the table for solid, logical reasons and that none of those reasons had changed. And he'd be right.

Of course, logic and reason did nothing to assuage the sudden and traitorous demands of her out-of-control, hormone-filled body.

“Anna?” he asked, watching her curiously. “Did you need—”

“Nope! I don't need anything. Not one thing. Nothing at all!” Avoiding his gaze, she picked up the box from the counter. “The pies are ready. I'm ready. You seem to be ready, so...what are we waiting for? Let's go celebrate Thanksgiving!”

“Oh, no you don't. Stop right there.” Logan stepped in front of her, took the box from her hands and asked, “What's going on here? What's bothering you, Anna?”

“Nothing. I'm...hungry. Ravenous, actually! I can't wait to eat.”

“You don't look hungry. You look...feverish, maybe? Are you feeling ill?”

“Oh, no,” she said in complete honesty, both disarmed and touched by the deep concern glittering in his eyes. “I promise, Logan, I'm not ill at all. I'd tell you if I didn't feel well.”

“Worried about something, perhaps?”

“Nope! Not that, either!”

“Alrighty then,” he said after a longer-than-normal pause, “I won't belabor the point. Just do me the favor of remembering that we're a team.” Leaning over, he gave her a sweet, brotherly type of kiss on her cheek. And even that chaste peck made her want him that much more. “When you need something from me, anything at all, all you have to do is ask.”

Oh. Anything at all, huh? If only.

He exited the kitchen, and she hoped—prayed, really—that her suddenly fired-up libido was, indeed, yet another passing side effect of pregnancy, and that in a day or two or three, she'd stop wishing that he'd pick her up and carry her to bed. If not, then she was clean out of luck. Because no, she couldn't
just ask
Logan to fulfill this particular need.

Or...could she?

* * *

“You're awfully quiet,” Gavin said, sitting down next to Logan later that afternoon. “Have been most of the day, for that matter. At first, I figured there were just too many folks here, and you needed some time to settle in. Now, though, I'm beginning to wonder.”

“Nah, I'm used to crowds.” Logan shrugged. “Just relaxing. Enjoying the day.”

“Gotcha. Half the family is about to start a round of card games.” Gavin nodded toward the farmhouse's large kitchen. “The other half is either shooting the breeze or napping on the back porch. Feel like joining either group?”

Logan gave it an entire second of thought before shaking his head. “I'm good sitting here, watching the fire. Surprised folks aren't in here napping, actually.”

“I think you and your brooding scared them off.”

Startled, Logan eyed his brother. “Seriously? I'm sorry—”

“Stop. I'm joking.” Gavin scratched his beard. “Or mostly joking. Though I gotta admit I'm curious about what might be eating at you. If I were to guess, I'd say this has something to do with Anna. Anything going on there you want to talk about?”

Annoyed and amused by his brother's ability to get right to the heart of the matter, Logan considered how best to answer. There wasn't anything to talk over, really. He was just finding it difficult to keep his growing attraction toward Anna under control. This morning, he'd almost given in to the temptation to kiss her. Hold her again. Just touch her.

He'd pulled himself together, barely, because he wouldn't do to Anna what his father had done to his mother. Keeping true to his word, remaining honorable, was vital to Logan. And that meant following through with his take-everything-nice-and-slow-until-the-baby-is-born plan.

Then he should be better able to assess.

Since admitting any of this wouldn't solve the core issue, he shrugged. “Not really. We're good. There isn't a thing to complain about, and other than a few oddball details in getting used to living with each other, this whole marriage deal is a lot easier than I thought.”

Not a lie. Well, not really. The framework of their marriage remained solid.

“Is that so?” Gavin's eyebrows shot up. Both of them. “Easier, huh?”

“That's so,” he said, toeing the line he'd set. “Makes me happy we spent so much time working out our agreement and deciding beforehand what we wanted. There aren't any hazy areas to worry about. If something comes up I'm unsure of, I just have to check the rule book.”