Harlequin Special Edition October 2015, Box Set 1 of 2 (34 page)

A car door slammed outside. This was it.

Logan hightailed it to the sofa, grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, put his feet up on the coffee table. And gave his best impression of a relaxed man enjoying some time to himself. The sound of Haley and Anna chatting outside let him know they were close, and that was when he noticed the guys had left the paint cans about three feet in front of the damn door, meaning there was no way Anna wouldn't see them.

Cursing, he leaped off the sofa and crossed the room, grabbed a can with each hand and—damn it, they were just on the other side of the door—ran to the kitchen, opened the cupboard under the sink and... Really? No way would two paint cans fit in there.

He darted a glance around the room and, seeing no other alternative, shoved them on top of the fridge, pushing them as far back as they would go and hoping if she happened to come in here before he had a chance to show her the nursery, she wouldn't look up.

Hearing the door open, Logan calmed his breathing and—since he couldn't act nonchalant and laid back in front of the television—grabbed a beer from the fridge and was twisting off the cap when he entered the living room.

“Hey there,” he said. “I wasn't expecting you home so soon.”

“Soon?” Anna arched an eyebrow. “You dropped me off at...what?” She glanced toward Haley for confirmation. “Around eleven? It's going on six o'clock, Logan.”

“Somewhere around eleven, I think.” Haley, who actually looked more tired than Anna, twisted a long strand of auburn hair around her finger and said, “The shower lasted
a lot
longer than expected, and by the time we cleaned and moved everything to the car, it was after five.”

Now, the true story was that Haley had phoned Gavin at two, asking how close they were to being finished, so she knew how long to delay. Probably, Anna had been chomping at the bit to come home by then, since she got crazy tired in the afternoon. And frankly, delaying his wife when her mind was set on something did not fall into the effortless category. Poor Haley.

Feigning shock, Logan said, “Wow, really? I had no idea it had gotten so late. Guess I must have lost track of time, watching TV and... Well, I might have napped some, too. Since it was so quiet and peaceful in the house, being by myself and all.”

“Oh, you napped, huh?” This came from his wife.

“Yup. Probably a good two hours or so, I imagine.” Anna skewered him with a do-you-want-to-die-now-or-later sort of look, while Haley just narrowed her eyes. And he couldn't resist hamming up his act a little more. So he yawned, stretched his arms over his head and said, “I gotta say, it was awfully nice having such a relaxing, kicked-back day.”

“Well, then, since you're rested up and all, why don't you run out to Haley's car and bring in the gifts? We popped the trunk before we came in, and there's a bunch of stuff in the backseat to get, too,” Anna said. “She's tired. I'm tired. Don't even think of asking us to help.”

Haley's lips wiggled right into a grin. “Yes, please, Logan, because while I had a ton of fun today and do not regret a second of it, I did not have any idea how exhausting a
five-and-a-half
-
hour
baby shower would be! Especially since we planned for a three-hour timetable.”

And that statement was directed toward him and the extra hours they'd required to finish the nursery. “Well, you know how it is. Every now and again, even the best plans can go awry. Sorry you two are so tired, though, and of course I'll haul everything in.”

“Thank you,” Haley said. “Anna and I will sit right here, in the living room, and rehash our long—but wonderful!—day. Like how Lola—” grasping Anna's arm, she tugged her toward the sofa “—didn't want to stop playing those games!”

“Oh, God, I know,” Anna said, plopping down on the couch. “And for a woman who puts the Beanery in tip-top shape in the blink of an eye, she packed the food sooo slowly.”

Assured that Haley would keep Anna occupied and his surprise a surprise, Logan hurriedly brought in the various boxes and bags that were stuffed in every spare inch of space in his sister-in-law's car. It took three loaded trips in total, and when he was done, the coffee table, both chairs and a sizable portion of the floor were covered. Wow.

Standing, Haley said, “Okay! I'm off for home. You guys have a good night.”

“You...ah...don't want to stick around awhile?” Logan asked, assuming she'd want to see the nursery. “It's fine by both of us, especially with all you've done today.”

“Oh no, I don't think so. Better for you two to have some alone time before Anna faints from exhaustion.” Haley lifted her hand in a wave, gave Logan a big grin and let herself out.

“I don't know if I've ever been this tired,” Anna said with a yawn. “Do you mind waiting until tomorrow to unpack? I want to show you everything—especially the adorable, tiny clothes—but I cannot fathom where we'll put all of this.”

“I have a few ideas,” Logan said. “And sure, tomorrow is fine. Though it might be smart to move some of the boxes and bags to your room so we're not tripping over them.”

“Sure, you go right ahead and do that.” Anna whisked her hand in the air. “Me? Until I have to pee again, I'm not moving so much as an inch.”

“Yeah, you are. Because you are going to help.” He grinned as her eyes rounded in shock. “Come on, Anna, up and at 'em, because as tired as you are now, you'll be even more tired after the baby's born. You'll have to push through then, so you might as well start now.”

“Are you serious? Because while I'm sure I'll be tired as a new mom, I won't be pregnant, and...” He pulled her, gently of course, to her feet. “Oh! What are you doing?”

“Ascertaining that we aren't living in a hazard zone for the next twenty-four hours,” he said with an easy grin. “Come on, grab a couple of those gift bags. The sooner we do this, the sooner you can be a couch potato. I'll even rub your feet. Or your back. Your choice.”

“Ha! You won't be touching me for a long, long while. If ever!” Scowling viciously, she yanked two bags into her grasp and turned, heading for what she believed was her bedroom. “And if you seriously think I won't smack you over the head with my cast-iron frying pan just because I haven't done so yet, then you better think again!”

Logan rounded the sofa and crept to the edge of the hallway, staying just out of Anna's sight. The bags rustled against each other as she twisted the doorknob. He imagined her pushing open the door, flipping on the light switch.
One. Two. Three...

He heard the bags hit the floor—hopefully, they didn't hold anything breakable—and then, in a voice barely loud enough to reach him, Anna said, “Logan?”

“Yes, Anna?”

“Can you come in here, please?”

Hmm. Her voice was quiet. Calm. She did not sound mad. But she didn't sound excited, either. And she certainly hadn't shrieked in happiness. Probably, her reaction fell smack in the middle, and damn it, he had not aimed for lukewarm. He'd aimed for the sky.

Firming his shoulders, he forced his leaden feet to carry him forward, to the nursery he'd put so much love into. Anna was sitting in the rocking chair, and a stream of silent, seemingly never-ending tears slid from her eyes, down the slopes of her cheeks and all the way to the narrow line of her jaw. Her shoulders didn't shake. She didn't gasp for air.

This was Anna. In the purest, most tranquil, beautiful display of emotion he'd ever seen. And he knew, to the bottom of his heart, that she got it. That she understood the wish that had inspired their daughter's nursery. She
knew
, because somehow, she knew
him
.

“You created this room,” she said, her voice hushed. “This beautiful, whimsical, fanciful and perfect room, in order to give our baby girl a place to...dream.”

“Yes,” he said. “That's exactly what I did.”

In the next instant, Anna was on her feet and in his arms. Neither spoke, as words weren't necessary. He held her and she held him, and as they stood there, locked together in the room their daughter would soon sleep in, soon dream in, Logan stopped denying the truth.

He was in love. Fully and completely. With his wife, with Anna.

Chapter Eleven

P
ressing her hand against the small of her back to ease the discomfort, Anna breathed a sigh of relief that her five-hour shift at the Beanery had less than thirty minutes remaining. Her ability to stand for long periods without suffering any ill effects had rapidly diminished. Now, with a mere four weeks to go until her due date, she considered herself lucky if she managed a full sixty minutes on her feet without having to sit down for ten.

The midafternoon rush had just ended, leaving the coffeehouse in the rare state of being almost empty. Business would pick up again as late afternoon bled into evening, but she would be home by then, hopefully stretched out on the sofa with a pillow behind her back.

Or maybe she'd sit in the oh-so-beautiful nursery and dream.

Anna would never forget the immense rush of emotion that hit her when she'd flipped on the nursery's light and seen Logan's handiwork for the very first time. She'd known, instantly, what had driven him to give their daughter a bedroom of flight and fantasy, and she was struck with such overwhelming love and gratitude and peace that her knees had nearly buckled from the force and she'd all but dropped into the lovely handcrafted rocking chair.

She had come so close to sharing her love with Logan that night, to telling him that her greatest desire was to live true to their vows and to stay together. Forever. But as much as she yearned to say those words, she found herself physically incapable.

And really, in the two weeks since, those darn words had stayed clogged in her throat, always right there, so close to being said but never quite reaching her lips. Why? Well, she hadn't quite decided, but she figured there must be a reason. When the time was right, she'd know, and she wouldn't face any difficulty in telling Logan all that was in her heart.

“Honey, we need to have a chat,” Lola said as she came around to the back of the counter. “You can't keep doing this, and even if you think you can, I can't let you.”

“You've confused me, auntie.” Anna started wiping the counter, mostly to keep her lovesick gaze away from Lola's all-seeing one. “I can't keep doing what?”

“Coming in here and attempting to work when you can barely stand up straight.” Lola leaned against the counter Anna was trying to clean and angled her arms over her chest. “Now, I know you want to work two more weeks, but that isn't happening. Today is your last day until after that baby is born,” she said. “And don't put up a fuss. I've made up my mind. Just go home, finish preparing for your daughter and relax.”

Oh, the thought sounded heavenly but, “I've finished preparing, and I can't just go home and sit around for four weeks. If I don't stay busy, the time will crawl, and it's already going slow enough.” Anna stopped cleaning and leaned against the counter, next to her aunt. “And it's smarter to save every penny I can. I need to be ready to move out in a year. Just in case.”

Now, that thought? She hated it. Passionately.

She did not want to move in a year, and she didn't want to worry about having a divorce-ready nest egg saved, and yes, she wanted their idiotic rules to change. But only if Logan wanted the same, and only if his reasons were true and right.

“Don't know what you need to prepare yourself for,” Lola said in a somewhat gruff manner. “In a year's time, you'll be either living on that ranch in Wyoming or moving back into my house. Either way, losing a few weeks of pay isn't going to make much of a difference.”

“What are you talking about? There has been zero discussion about living in Wyoming.” And darn if the admission didn't kick-start her hormones. Anna pressed her fingertips against her cheeks in an effort to halt the flood of tears before it started, to absolutely no avail. “He hasn't s-said a word, you see, so—so—”

Damn it!
She was so freaking tired of crying.

Lola guided her to the sole chair they kept behind the counter and helped her sit. “Why these tears? By all appearances, you're not the only person in your marriage falling in love.”

“I don't know. That's the problem.” Anna wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, swallowed a mouthful of air and centered herself. “And how do you know what's going on? I've tried to keep this from you since you were so worried about it in the first place.”

“Well, not exactly this,” Lola said, stroking Anna's hair off her face. And the action, as simple as it was, offered comfort. “And I'd have to be blind not to see what's happening. But what do you mean, he hasn't said a word? In what regard?”

“Just that. He hasn't said
anything
about his feelings toward me or if he's having second thoughts about our arrangement or if he...” Shrugging, Anna pulled in another breath. “I don't know what's in his head most of the time, auntie, let alone in his heart.”

“Hmm. Have you told him what's in your head, in your heart?”

“No, but I want to. I...I keep trying, but something holds me back.”

Concern lit Lola's gaze. “Now look, whatever is happening between the two of you, only the two of you can define. No one else. But honey, you have to decide if you love him enough to fight for him, and if there's something holding you back from doing so, then...well, I think you should give that instinct the proper amount of weight. It's there for a reason.”

And her aunt's advice was so eerily close to Anna's thoughts on the matter that she nodded. “I think that's exactly what I'm doing, but it's hard. I have these warring instincts, I guess. And it's difficult to determine which instinct is the one I should listen to.”

“Then I don't see any harm in letting those instincts battle it out for a little while longer,” Lola said, her eyes kind. “I guarantee that, eventually, one of them will beat the other to the ground, and you'll know what step is the right step. There won't be any doubt.”

And those, Anna thought, were very wise words, indeed.

* * *

A pair of cold hands shook Logan's shoulders, and a sharp, insistent voice yanked him clean out of a deep, dreamless sleep. His eyes shot open, and Anna was standing next to the bed, bent over his prone form. Even in the dim light that poured in from the hallway, he recognized the potent mix of panic and excitement in her eyes, in her expression.

His heart jumped to his throat. “Now?”

“Yes,” she said. “Now.”

“Are you sure?” Sitting up, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Gave his head a good, hard shake and said, “But honey, Flash is not supposed to come for ten more days.”

“Due dates are not an exact science.” Her voice wavered as she spoke, and her body wobbled enough that she grasped the bedpost for support. “Babies come when they're ready to come, and Logan, our baby—whose name will never be Flash—is quite insistent that she's ready. Get out of bed. Get dressed. I...I'm starting to lose it, here.”

Her wavering and wobbling served to shift his brain into high gear. “Right. Okay. How far apart are the contractions? Because if they're not consistent, this likely isn't true labor, and honey, I know you're scared, but let's remember everything we learned, and—”

“My water broke,” she said, interrupting him, her voice picking up speed. “And I don't know, because I haven't timed them, but they seem awfully fast, and...and we need to go.”

He leaped from the bed, wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. And yeah, he was scared, and no, he did not like the pain Anna would suffer over the next many hours, but a thread of exhilaration existed, as well. Soon he would meet his daughter.

Forcing himself to drop his arms, he cupped Anna's face with his hands and met her frightened gaze with his steady one, saying, “We're in this together, Anna, and whatever you need from me today, I will do my utmost best to supply.”

“Promise?”

“Oh yeah, baby, I promise.”

She leaned into him for a full five seconds, as if wanting to take advantage of this tiny moment of peace they'd found. Then, “We have to go. Please?”

“Of course,” he said, heading for the bathroom. “Ten minutes and we'll be on the road.”

“Make it five. If you can. Seriously, Logan.” She stopped, inhaled a shaky-sounding breath. “My bags are by the door, and I've already called the hospital, so they know we're on the way. But hurry. I...just want to get there, where I know she'll be safe.”

Where
they
would be safe, mother and daughter.

But Logan did not correct her, just rushed through brushing his teeth and washing his face. He threw on yesterday's jeans and T-shirt because they were handy, and in five minutes, with Anna's bags in tow, he was shepherding his wife to the car.

And wow, he was so grateful he was here and not at the ranch, where he'd been for the whole of last week. He'd only just returned that afternoon. The thought of Anna being alone and going through any of this without him was harsh. Worse, even, than the possibility of missing the sound of his daughter's first breath, her first wailing cry.

In the car, he started the ignition and backed out of the driveway. Beside him, Anna's arms remained locked around her stomach, and every now and then, she let out the tiniest of whimpers. And Logan wished he could take her pain, her fear, and put both on himself.

“How are you doing, sweetheart?” he asked.

“Scared. Excited. Overwhelmed.” She shifted some in her seat. “And a little peeved we don't have a name. She needs a name. An amazing, wonderful, perfect name.”

“I agree, and she will,” he said, kicking himself for not searching through all those baby-name books Anna had left lying around. He'd meant to. “Let's worry about getting you more comfortable, and then we'll see what we can do about finding that perfect name.”

“Okay, and...” Anna's words trailed away, and he could see she was having another contraction. He slid his hand from the steering wheel to grip hers, and she held on tight. When the contraction faded, she said, “Do you think, if it's at all possible, we could hurry up on the making-me-more-comfortable portion of the night? I really,
really
like the sound of that.”

“Yep. I'm working on it.”

“Good,” she said in almost a whisper. “While you do, I'm just going to close my eyes for a few minutes, before the next one starts.”

“That sounds like an excellent plan.” Logan turned on the radio but kept the volume low, hoping the music would help Anna relax. Then he focused on the road.

Fortunately, due to the early morning hour, there was almost no traffic to speak of and they encountered only one red light. When Logan swerved into the hospital parking garage, he was somewhat stunned to realize that only thirty-two minutes had elapsed since he'd opened his eyes to the news that his baby was on her way. It was... Well, the word
crazy
came to mind.

And
nerve-racking
. Along with
absolutely, positively thrilling
.

Logan could not wait to meet his daughter. To see what she looked like. To feel the weight of her in his arms when he held her for that first miraculous time. And he could not wait to see Anna's face the first time
she
saw and cradled their daughter.

Could. Not. Wait.

That night in the nursery, Logan had realized that his love for Anna was real and true. With a certainty that defied logic, he knew that this love would not decrease or vanish with the birth of their baby. Just the opposite would occur, and the enormity of all he felt would surge in strength and power and conviction. He
knew
this.

As of yet, however, he had not shared this revelation with Anna.

There were reasons for his hesitation. Good, solid, valid reasons, at that. Mainly, Anna would require time to recover from pregnancy, labor and childbirth, to settle into the role of new mother and to regain a sense of normalcy. Until she had the proper amount of time for all of the above to occur, she would likely feel more vulnerable than her usual self.

Broaching any possibility that would involve extreme change too soon would be taking advantage of this vulnerability. In Logan's estimation, doing so would prove not only selfish but also dishonorable. And behaving in a selfish, dishonorable manner did not go over well with Logan.

He wouldn't purposely behave that way with anyone, but choosing his needs over Anna's, the woman he loved? Never.

So yes, he had good, solid, valid reasons for waiting, and he wished he could pretend that there wasn't anything more than those reasons behind his hesitation. But there was more. A wall of sorts that he wasn't prepared to break down as of yet, despite his desire to allow Anna complete access.

He'd figure out what was holding him back. He'd have to. Otherwise nothing would change.

Logan parked the car and pocketed his keys, saying, “Open your eyes, honey. We're here. Let's get you inside.”

Blinking, she nodded and waited for him to come around to her side of the car, to help her stand, and his worry ramped up to the next level. Never had he witnessed her this subdued or this quiet. To see Anna in such a way disconcerted him, as it made him distinctly aware of her discomfort and her distress. And he hated that he couldn't ease either.

The walk through the parking garage to the elevators took them a while because each step brought her pain. So they went slowly. When they reached the first floor of the hospital, he spied a row of wheelchairs. Anna saw them, too. She nodded toward them, and as one, they headed in their direction. The second he had her seated and as comfortable as possible, he made quick work of getting them to the next set of elevators and up to the labor and delivery wing.

Still, she didn't talk. Not one word.

After what seemed a friggin' eternity, Anna was admitted and they were shown to her room. For the first hour, there was a buzz of almost constant activity. One nurse gave her an exam, ascertaining the progress of Anna's labor—she was three centimeters dilated—and another nurse asked her a bunch of questions, took her vitals, put in her IV and hooked her to the fetal monitor. That was nice, being able to hear the reaffirming beat of their daughter's heart.