His Baby Dream (Safe Harbor Medical) (15 page)

Stacy appeared in the entry, aglow with happiness. The chapel seemed to brighten as she stepped forward between her mother, elegant in a golden dress, and her tuxedoed father. Harper’s heart lifted, sharing this magical moment. Blinking back tears, she watched the Laynes hand their daughter to Cole.

“I do!” the groom announced, although no one had asked him anything.

Chuckles ran through the crowd.

Stacy squeezed her husband-to-be’s arm. “Not yet,” she said.

“Soon,” the minister assured them, and began the service.

Chapter Fifteen

Another wedding. Another happy couple. Another pregnant bride. Finishing his meal in the banquet hall, Peter was grateful to have been invited, even though Harper and Mia were placed at the head table and he was out in the boondocks. A sense of good fellowship filled him, just as it had at his sister’s wedding last month.

Since the people at his table included several hospital staff members along with Una and Jim Barker, who were having twins using the bride’s donated eggs, the conversation featured babies, pregnancies and the fertility program.

Peter kept quiet about his personal situation, given the uncertainty regarding Vanessa’s possible pregnancy. He’d hate to be asked what he’d do if the eggs failed to implant, because he didn’t know.

As the bride and groom claimed their first dance, he tried to picture his wife on their wedding day. What kind of gown had she worn? For heaven’s sake, he had a DVD and a keepsake book, not to mention the dress itself preserved in an acid-free display box. He could take them out and look at them anytime. Perhaps he’d do that tonight.

Plenty of people had told him that two years of mourning was enough. That anyone who clung to a deceased spouse for so long must be weak in the head, or morbidly self-indulgent.

Peter shook off the idea. He wasn’t clinging to anyone. He had room in his heart for feelings, just not the same kind.

As if on cue, he spotted Harper wending her way to the dance floor on the arm of Cole’s male nurse, a muscular fellow with a military-style haircut. As they walked, they didn’t sway toward each other, or bend their heads together as if sharing a private word. There was nothing special between them, Peter reflected with relief, and then dismissed his flash of jealousy as unworthy of him, and Harper.

A waving motion caught his eye. At the head table, Mia was signaling him. Peter grinned. What a sweetheart.

About to wave back, he realized she was nodding along with the music. Well, why not?

Excusing himself from his table, Peter went to join her. Catching a curious glance from the matron of honor, he gave her a polite nod before turning to Mia. “Would you care to dance, young lady?”

“I thought you’d never ask!” With that grown-up remark, she jumped to her feet and darted toward the dance floor.

Heaven help the local boys when she reached her teens, Peter thought in amusement. She should have a father to protect her from them, too.

Following a lilting opening song for the bride and groom, the disc jockey shifted to a fast number. Mia gyrated merrily, her blue dress swirling. Peter took her hand and helped her spin, to her delight and that of the guests around them.

He caught Harper’s gaze. What a sweet, wistful expression.

The music changed. Time to switch partners. Peter made eye contact with Adrienne at a nearby table, and nodded toward Reggie, who was bouncing in his chair. She grabbed her nephew, said something in his ear and propelled him in Mia’s direction.

“Look who’s cutting in,” Peter told her, and yielded his spot to the little boy. Jacket rumpled, tie crooked and a spot of food on one cheek, Reggie began to jump about enthusiastically. Although Mia’s nose twitched, she didn’t object.

Where was Harper?

He saw her dancing with a guy Peter didn’t recognize and wished would disappear. Out of courtesy, he waited a few minutes until the tempo slowed, then cut in.

“You look beautiful,” he told Harper, taking her in his arms. What inadequate words to describe her vivid expression and the sensual way she glided against him, her heels putting them at almost the same height.

“You should wear a suit more often.” Her breath tickled his ear.

Intoxicated by her fragrance, Peter had trouble responding coherently. “To play soccer and coach wrestling?”

“In the shower would be fine, too.” Her cheek brushed his, and she stumbled a little as he steered her around another couple.

“Too much champagne?” he murmured.

“Only half a glass,” she replied. “I’m driving.”

“Not right now, you aren’t,” he said, and gripped her more firmly around the waist.

Harper yielded readily, her body generating heat against his. For Peter, the room faded until there was no one but the two of them and nothing but their natural, tantalizing connection.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmured.

She caught her breath. “Oh, Peter.”

“I...” He broke off as, from the corner of his eye, he saw a painfully familiar figure in a lacy white dress. There was the scooped, beaded bodice he’d forgotten earlier, the ivory skin and slender neck, and Angela’s wounded gaze trained on him.

Startled, Peter regarded the woman directly. It was only Stacy, and she didn’t appear distressed at all.

“You’re acting like you just saw a ghost,” Harper said.

He didn’t attempt to cover his reaction. “I think I did.”

“You mean
that
ghost?” Harper drew back. “I should have expected it.”

The music stopped. The deejay invited them all to a corner table, where the bride and groom were about to cut the cake.

Peter caught Harper’s arm. “What did you mean, you expected it?”

“Never mind.” She withdrew from his grasp.

“We should finish this conversation.” A dance floor might not be the best place to discuss sensitive matters, but he hadn’t meant to disappoint her. Or to drive her away.

“I think it’s finished.”

“Harper...” Peter didn’t dare say any more, because here came Mia. She’d shed Reggie and acquired a slightly older girl as a companion.

“Can I play laser tag tomorrow with Gloria?” she asked her mom.

Harper responded with a puzzled smile. “Gloria? Oh, you’re Ellie’s daughter! From Utah.”

The matron of honor appeared behind them. “My boys are dying to play, and it’s hard on Gloria, being the only girl. Stacy recommended a place near here, and we’ve set it up for two o’clock. I’d be grateful if you’d let Mia come, and of course you’re welcome to join us.”

“We
were
planning a trip to the zoo, but that can wait.” Harper didn’t sound crazy about the idea, Peter noted, but both girls were appealing to her with tented hands and cries of “Please! Please!”

“Laser tag gives me a headache,” she told the other woman. “I can bring her over to wherever you’re staying or meet you at the game station.”

“No need for that. We’ll pick her up.” There was a hurried exchange of data, while the girls jumped up and down, cheering.

“You come, too!” Mia demanded of Peter, but he begged off.

Harper would be home alone tomorrow afternoon. That struck him as the perfect time to talk uninterrupted.

* * *

N
OT
ALL
MEN
LET
WOMEN
down, Harper mused on Sunday as she watched Ellie’s SUV pull away from the house. Stacy’s sister had apparently found a great husband, and so had Stacy. Their parents had stuck together, too.

If Sean had lived, he and Harper might have enjoyed the same kind of long-term marriage. But he hadn’t. And the truth was that, although he’d been more attentive than her own father, he’d spent half of his weekends out in the desert with his buddies and his ATV—which had killed him.

Retrieving her camera, Harper went into the backyard. Earlier, she and Mia had found a tiny eggshell on the patio. If it was from a hummingbird’s nest, there might be little hummers flitting about.

As she observed the flowering bushes closest to the patio, she tried in vain to remember any occasion when her father had spent time with her alone. A civil engineer, he’d worked long hours, and then assumed a heavy load of volunteer activities. When she was sixteen, she’d begged him to take her to a father-daughter dance. Apologetically, he’d explained that it conflicted with an important planning commission meeting.

That night, driving home, he’d fallen asleep at the wheel and crashed. Not only had he left Harper adrift as she struggled through adolescence, he’d stranded the wife who’d depended on him emotionally and financially. And he’d never resolved his testosterone-fueled conflicts with Jake, then eighteen, who’d enlisted in the army soon afterward.

In a way, she’d married a guy a lot like dear old dad. Neither man had chosen to die prematurely, Harper conceded. But if they’d put their family first instead of last among their priorities, they might both be alive.

Now she’d fallen for a man who put the ghost of his late wife ahead of her.
I must be a glutton for punishment.

A
whoom
drew her attention to her surroundings. That sound indicated a hummer for sure. And there it was, hovering at the feeder, tiny wings a blur as it fed.

Harper had preset the camera to capture high-speed images. Now, she adjusted the focus and lost herself in the pleasure of immortalizing a bird scarcely four inches long. The iridescent deep pink of the throat marked it as male—she’d read up on the subject—while the rest of the feathers shaded between gray and green. The bird showed no alarm as Harper circled, since it had become accustomed to her presence.

In the depths of the house, the doorbell sounded. It was too soon for Mia to return. With a touch of impatience, she switched off the camera’s power.

She opened the door to Peter. Unprepared for the surge of joy she felt, Harper stood drinking in his questioning gaze, the dark blue T-shirt stretched across his well-muscled chest and the intoxicating scent of his aftershave lotion.

“What...?” She hadn’t received any messages from him.

“I bring good news.” He held up a sheet of paper that appeared to be a printed-out email. “It deserves to be delivered in person.”

“When you knew Mia would be gone?” she asked. But, like the sucker she was, she let him in.

Peter shut the door behind him. “I queried an agent. She loves the proposal and the pictures, and wants to represent us. What do you say?”

Harper couldn’t believe it. She blurted the first thing that occurred to her. “She replied on a Sunday?”

“I found it in my in-box when I got home last night.” As Peter handed it to her, his palm brushed her cheekbone. “Aren’t you pleased?”

“I am. And stunned.”

“Your photos put us over the top.” His mouth drifted toward hers. “She says they’re exceptional. As if I didn’t already know that.”

Harper lost track of what he was saying. She tilted up her face and parted her lips, brushing his and letting the impact glimmer through her. The paper fluttered to the floor, and they left it there.

Her arms circled his neck. With a deep moan, Peter drew her tighter, his hardness arousing her and awakening her.

“We should celebrate,” he murmured when they came up for air.

“Champagne.” Stacy had insisted Harper take home a bottle left from yesterday’s reception, reminding her that a pregnant bride couldn’t drink.

“Or something better.”

“Or something better,” Harper agreed.

Why not? They were both adults.

She slid up his T-shirt, loving the feel of his firm body. When he cupped her bottom and kissed her again, years of restraint melted.

Harper’s breathing sped as they stumbled through the house into her bedroom. The room where she’d slept alone far too long.

But not today.

Chapter Sixteen

Peter hadn’t realized how much he’d held back when he’d made love to his wife. She’d been delicate, leaving most of the action to him. With Harper, everything was different.
He
was different—more powerful, more passionate, more sensual.

She had an incredible body, sleek and contoured, and she used it like a tigress. Not that his response required any stimulation. They moved in harmony as he caressed her breasts, teased her tongue with his and slipped off her silky lingerie.

Only when they were naked did a glimmer of practicality intervene. “I didn’t bring any protection.” He hadn’t planned for this.

“I have some, just in case.” Chestnut hair hid Harper’s face as she leaned over to riffle through a drawer in the nightstand. “Lucky thing, huh?”

“Yes.” Not that there was much chance of impregnating her, given his medical issues.

She sat on the bed, the box of condoms in her hand. Was she hesitating? Peter propped himself on one elbow, his palm tracing the curve of her waist. “If you’re having second thoughts, I’ll understand.”

“Stop understanding,” Harper commanded, and opened the packet.

Pleased, he slid the protection into place. When he finished, she rolled to face him, legs tangling with his, her mouth exploring his neck and the pulse of his throat.

A tigress. Transforming him into a tiger.

The yearning that he’d ignored for too long drove Peter to pin her against the pillows. A long kiss, and he eased inside her, sensation roaring through his body. Her answering gasps urged him onward.

They were soaring, battling, twisting. On top, she plundered him rhythmically, until Peter could barely restrain himself. He wanted to prolong the ecstasy, to keep her entirely his as long as possible, but fireworks exploded, sending him into a frenzy. She arched her back, crying out, her fiery reaction matching his. The joy intensified until he half believed it might last forever, and then brilliant colors filled him, sweeping him over a threshold into bliss.

Chest heaving, body sheened with moisture, Harper settled into the curve of his arm. Peter lay spent, his breathing gradually returning to normal.

“That was some celebration,” he said.

“We didn’t even crack open the champagne.”

“Next time.” He hoped there’d be many next times.

They lay curled together for a while before she spoke again. “Peter, I need to have some idea where we stand. For my daughter’s sake if nothing else.”

Where they stood. Good question. “Harper, we can sort things out,” he said.

“Then why do you sound dubious?”

“It’s just that my life’s gotten complicated.”

She sat up, pulling the sheet around her. “Complicated how?”

Wishing they’d had an opportunity to talk before this, he explained about his reassignment at school and about his parents’ house selling with a two-month escrow. “I wasn’t going to move until next summer....”

“But you’ve decided to go sooner,” she said tightly. “I get it. Hello and goodbye.”

“I just found out about their house yesterday.” Why was she so irate? This intimacy was new and unexpected. Peter had never been good at thinking on the fly. “Nothing’s decided.”

“You couldn’t have told me about this before we made love?”

He blinked, considering his answer. “The letter from the agent seemed more important.”

“And then you were too busy getting me in the sack.” Eyes blurry with tears, she swung out of bed.

“That was mutual.”

“A nice fling on your way out the door and out of our lives.” Face averted, she snatched her clothes from the floor.

“Absolutely not.” If only he could grab this conversation like a soccer ball and halt the play. He needed a moment to catch his breath and his train of thought. “Harper, this wasn’t calculated. I haven’t figured out the next step.”

“It’s not entirely up to you.”

“I didn’t mean to imply that it was.” On the street, a vehicle braked to a halt. “That can’t be Mia already.”

“It’s sooner than I expected.” Harper began pulling on clothes. “Hurry!”

Peter yanked the covers into place and grabbed his pants and underwear. “I’ll put them on in the bathroom. We can say we were discussing the book.”

“Gee, you think fast when you have to.”

“Only when something’s obvious.” He disliked sarcasm, although he supposed that was how she reacted when someone hurt her. How had he managed to do that?

In the hall, Peter collected his T-shirt and ducked into the bathroom. As he struggled into uncooperative jeans, he kept trying to figure out how they’d gone from tenderness to sword’s point in a matter of seconds. Whatever he’d done wrong, it escaped him.

From the living room, he heard Ellie explaining that her overexcited boys had been so aggressive in the laser tag session that the manager had asked them to leave. “It was embarrassing,” she said. “I’m sorry your little girl had to witness this.”

“I had fun,” Mia responded cheerfully. “They were acting mean and they deserved to be punished.”

Peter washed his face. When he came up for air, he heard no more chatty Ellie, just the soft sound of Harper talking. What was she telling her daughter?

He emerged, his hair finger-combed into place. Mia was waiting in the hall with Po in her arms. “Mommy says you’re leaving.” She gazed up at him sorrowfully.

“I can stay a few more minutes.”

“I mean, you’re moving right away. Not next summer like you said.”

He wished Harper hadn’t dropped that on her daughter. “Plans can change,” he told her. “It isn’t carved in stone.”

“Does that mean no guarantees?” she asked.

“Kind of.” Beyond Mia, Harper appeared. “We should talk some more,” Peter told her.

“Not today.”

Rather than argue in front of her daughter, he followed her to the living room, where he picked up the agent’s message from the floor. “Keep this. I’ll forward the email, as well.”

Harper nodded. “Thanks for contacting her.”

“I’m serious about―”

“Not now.” Her uplifted palm stopped him.

His instincts urged him to fight for her. But a woman had a right to say no.

Mia trailed Peter to the front door like a small, sad ghost. Although he longed to reassure her, what could he say?

“This isn’t the end,” he told Harper, and would have embraced Mia except for the kitten in her arms. “Bye, sweetie.”

“Peter?” Mia said.

“What, little one?”

Wheels must be turning in her head. “I guess you have to go because you were married to an angel and your children will be perfect, too. Not like me.”

“That isn’t true at all.” He leaned down, bringing his face close to hers. “You’re perfect to me.”

“Not perfect enough.” With that, she turned and scampered away, Po clinging to her shoulder.

Distressed, he regarded Harper. “She’s taking it personally.”

“This is what I was trying to avoid.” From her guarded expression, Peter saw that she’d withdrawn somewhere he couldn’t reach.

Not now, at least. He’d give her a few days and then they’d hash this out.

* * *

I
T
WASN
’
T
FAIR
. J
UST
when Harper had opened her heart to Peter, he’d sprung that news on her. An accelerated departure—but why not? Since she didn’t plan to undergo another egg donation cycle, he had no reason to stick around.

He’d hired her as his donor, not as his girlfriend, but she’d yielded to her impulses. Why did she have to be a sucker for a sexy guy with a likable manner? Now Mia was paying the price for Harper’s weakness.

The little girl had gone to her room and closed the door. Harper could hear her mumbling to Po unhappily, although she couldn’t make out all the words. “Babies...go away...he can’t take us.”

Mia had to learn, sooner or later, not to depend on men, but she was only seven. And Peter seemed so damn lovable.

Missing him only agitated Harper further. Against her better judgment, she’d started to depend on him emotionally. Craving his comfort, cherishing his smile, looking forward to the feel of his strong arms around her.

She had to keep him at bay. Like she should have done in the first place.

Since she wasn’t able to vent her feelings on Peter, Harper fired up her laptop and addressed an email to her long-silent brother. “Stop focusing on yourself and reach out to the people who love you,” she wrote and, for good measure, added, “You moron.”

She nearly deleted the insult, but he deserved it. Feeling a little better, she hit Send.

* * *

A
LL
WEEK
,
P
ETER
’
S
CALLS
to Harper went to voice mail, and weren’t returned. In response to an email asking to meet this weekend, she replied tersely that she was tied up.

If only she’d help him sort this out. With Angela, when Peter had been unsure how to handle matters, she’d quietly provided guidance. Now he was on his own, and not doing terribly well.

He kept trying, without luck, to understand how he’d sabotaged their closeness. Should he have saved the news about his possibly accelerated departure? But eventually he’d have had to tell Harper, and she’d have been even angrier, with good reason.

He knew one thing: he loved her and her daughter. Yet he also felt as if, by making love to Harper, he’d cheated on his wife. Everywhere he looked in his house, smiling figurines and cherished collector plates reminded him that this was her home, and that he’d promised to love her always.

The strain of transitioning to teaching P.E. didn’t help, Peter reflected Thursday night as he reviewed his lesson plans at the kitchen table. California’s standards were complex and, while well-intentioned in building healthy habits among students, frustrating, as well.

Requirements such as “discuss the changing psychological and sociological needs of a diverse society in relation to physical activity” and “recognize the value of physical activity in understanding multiculturalism” must sound great to some legislator. Implementing those with a bunch of hormone-fueled adolescents was another matter.

He sighed and returned to his work.

When the phone rang, his heart skittered. Could Harper be returning his calls at last?

Then he saw the name on the readout: Vanessa Ayres. Peter nearly stopped breathing.
Don’t get your hopes up.
But when there was bad news, her husband had placed the call. Did this mean...?

“Peter,” he answered, barely squeezing out his name.

“It’s Vanessa. My test is positive!” Her voice brimmed with happiness. “And my hormones are raring to go. I’m eating dry crackers already.” She spoke as if they were a special treat.

“You’re pregnant?” Well, obviously, that was what the positive test results meant.

“I realize it’s early, but this feels right,” she said. “Like we’re settled in for the long haul.”

“That’s fantastic. Do you need anything?” Words tumbled over one another. “What can I do?”

“Inhale,” she advised.

“Good thing I’m sitting down.” Even as Peter obeyed, his thoughts went on racing. A baby. Or babies. How incredible. “Does Harper know?”

“I plan to phone her next, unless you’d rather do it.”

“You should contact her.”
Considering that she isn’t taking my calls.
“I’m sure she’ll have questions.”

“Good point. Well, then, I’ll...” Vanessa broke off. “Oh, I nearly forgot. There’ve been two other pregnancies in the program this month, and we’re planning a party tomorrow―5:00 p.m. at the hospital multipurpose room. Cake and punch. You’re welcome to attend.”

Peter had no after-school commitments, but if he promised to be there and Vanessa relayed the news, it might spook Harper. “I’ll try to make it. Thanks for the invite. And the wonderful news. And for carrying my child. Children. Or both.” He laughed. “That didn’t make sense.”

“I’m tickled pink.” Vanessa chuckled. “What an old-fashioned term. It was one of my mom’s favorites.”

“Must be lucky, then.”

After they signed off, Peter sat reveling in this wonderful news. And yearning to share the joy with Harper.

* * *

“I’
LL
SEE
YOU
AT
THE
party,” Zack Sargent told Harper when they passed each other in the corridor at lunchtime on Friday. The doctor who’d performed both the egg extraction and the transfer didn’t try to hide his satisfaction.

Harper merely nodded. Although she was happy for Peter, pleased for the program and overjoyed for the little boys in her dreams, she’d rather pick up Mia from day care and head home. And avoid the likelihood of running into the man she’d been ducking all week.

When Vanessa had said he’d try to attend, the surrogate had sounded doubtful. Harper, however, had read between the lines. He meant to be there, for certain; he just didn’t want to scare her off.

Well, too bad. Her emotions had been on a roller-coaster ride since Sunday. Much as she’d like to celebrate with Una, Stacy, Vanessa and two other new moms-to-be, she’d rather not subject herself to seeing him.

And longing for him. And hurting all over again.

“See you at the party,” Keely Randolph told her a few hours later. The older nurse was leaving in midafternoon, Paige having gone home earlier as scheduled.

“You’re coming back for it?” Harper asked in surprise.

“Wouldn’t miss it!”

Giving her a vague smile, Harper went to prep the next patient.

At four-thirty, she noted that Nora was running ahead of schedule, due to a couple of cancellations. Too bad, since having to stay at the office would have given Harper the perfect excuse not to go.

Her phone vibrated. The hallway was quiet and, seeing Stacy’s name, Harper answered.

“Big news!” announced her friend, who’d returned two days ago from her honeymoon in Las Vegas. Cole, she’d reported, had acted like a kid in a candy shop. They’d taken in a show every night, and eaten each meal at a different hotel. He’d been so fascinated by the Venetian and the gondola ride in the canals that he was discussing taking a trip to Italy as soon as the triplets were old enough.