First Comes Baby...: The Loner's Guarded Heart (14 page)

‘That’s something you’re going to have to learn to live with. Just like I will if you ever become serious about a woman.’

He went ice-cold then. ‘You never wanted me as part of this picture, did you? I’ve ruined your pretty fantasy of domestic bliss and now you’re trying to punish me.’ He leaned towards her. ‘You’re hoping this will drive me away.’

The last of the colour bled from her face. ‘That’s not true.’

Wasn’t it? His harsh laugh told her better than words could what he thought about that.

Her colour didn’t return. She gripped her hands together in her lap. ‘I want you to decide what you want the custody arrangements to be. Do you want fifty-fifty custody? A night through the week and every second weekend? Or...whatever? This is something we need to settle.’

Custody
. The word stabbed through him, leaving a great gaping hole at the centre of his being. He wanted to cover his ears and hide under his bed as he had as a ten-year-old. The sense of helplessness, of his life spinning out of control, made him suddenly ferocious.

‘What if I want full custody?’ he snarled.

He wanted to frighten her. He wanted her to back down, to admit that this was all a mistake, that she was sorry and she didn’t mean it.

He wanted her to acknowledge that he wasn’t like his father!

Her chin shot up. ‘You wouldn’t get it.’

A savage laugh ripped from his throat. He should have known better. Meg would be well versed in her rights. She’d have made sure of them before bringing this subject up.

‘I want the custody arrangements settled in black and white before the baby is born.’

That ice-cold remoteness settled over him again. She didn’t trust him. ‘Do you have to live your entire life by rules?’

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. ‘I’m sorry, Ben, but in this instance I’m going to choose what’s best for the baby, not what’s best for you.’

She was choosing what was best for
her
. End of story. Acid burned his throat. Meg didn’t even know who he was any more, and he sure as hell didn’t know her. The pedestal he’d had her on for all these years had toppled and smashed.

‘And as for you living next door in Elsie’s house...’ She shook her head. ‘I think that’s a very bad idea.’

He didn’t say another word. He just started the dinghy’s motor and headed for shore.

* * *

‘How’s Meg?’

Ben scowled as he reached for a beer. With a muttered oath he put it back and chose a can of lemon squash instead. He swung back to Elsie, the habit of a lifetime’s loyalty preventing him from saying what he wanted to say—from howling out his rage.

‘She’s fine.’

Elsie sat at the kitchen table, knitting. It reminded him of Meg’s baby shawl, and the almost completed crib he’d been working on in Elsie’s garden shed.

‘Is she okay with me taking her mother’s place?’

Whoa!
He reached out a hand to steady himself against the counter. Where on earth had that come from? He shook his head and counted to three. ‘Let’s get a couple of things straight. First of all, you won’t be taking her mother’s place. Meg is all grown-up.’

She might be grown-up, but she was also pedantic, anal and cruel.

He hauled in a breath. ‘She doesn’t need a mother any more. For heaven’s sake, she’s going to be a mother herself soon.’

He added controlling, jealous and possessive to his list. He adjusted his stance.

‘Secondly, she won’t be doing anything daft like calling you Mum.’

Elsie stared back at him. ‘I meant taking her mother’s place in her father’s affections,’ she finally said.

Oh. He frowned.

‘Do you think she minds us marrying?’

Meg might be a lot of things he hadn’t counted on, but she wasn’t petty. ‘She’s throwing you a wedding. Doesn’t that say it all?’

Elsie paused in her knitting. ‘The thing is, she always was the kind of girl to put on a brave front.’ She tapped a knitting needle against the table. ‘You both were.’

He pulled out a chair and sat before he fell.

‘Do
you
mind Laurie and I marrying?’

He shook his head. ‘No.’ And he realised he meant it.

‘Good.’ She nodded. ‘Yes, that’s good.’ She stared at him for a bit, and then leaned towards him a fraction. ‘Do you think Meg will let the baby call me Grandma?’

He didn’t know what to say. ‘I expect so. If that’s what you want. You’ll have to tell her that’s what you’d prefer, though, rather than Elsie,’ he couldn’t resist adding.

Elsie set her knitting down. She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. Finally she looked at him again. ‘After she left, I never heard from your mother, Ben. Not once.’

Ben’s mouth went dry.

Elsie’s hands shook. ‘I waited and waited.’

Just for a moment the room, the table and Elsie receded. And then they came rushing back. ‘But...?’ he croaked.

Elsie shook her head, looking suddenly old. ‘But...nothing. I can’t tell you anything, though I wish to heaven I could. I don’t know where she went. I don’t know if she’s alive or not. All I do know is it’s been eighteen years.’ A breath shuddered out of her. ‘And that she knows how to get in contact with us, but to the best of my knowledge she’s never tried to.’

He stared at her, trying to process what she’d said and how he felt about it.

‘Your father broke something in her.’

He shook his head at that. ‘No. The way they acted—they let hate and bitterness destroy them. She had a chance to pull back. They both did. But they chose not to. She was as much to blame as him.’

Elsie clenched her hand. ‘All I know is that she left and I grieved. My only child...’

Ben thought about the child Meg carried and closed his eyes.

‘When I came out of that fog I...we...me and you were set in our ways, our routines, our way of dealing with each other.’

Was it that simple? Elsie had been grief-stricken and just hadn’t known how to deal with a young boy whose whole world had imploded.

‘Your mother always said I suffocated her and that’s why she went with your father. I failed her somehow—I still don’t know how, can’t find any explanation for it—and I just didn’t want to go through all that again.’

He pulled in a breath. ‘So you kept me at arm’s length?’

‘It was wrong of me, Ben, and I’m sorry.’

So much pain and misery. If his and Meg’s child ever disappeared the way his mother had, could he honestly say he’d deal with it any better than Elsie had? He didn’t know.

In the end he swallowed and nodded. ‘Thank you for explaining it to me.’

‘It was long overdue.’

He didn’t know what to do, what to say.

‘I’m grateful you had Meg.’

Meg. Her name burned through him. What would Meg want him to do now?

From somewhere he found a smile, and it didn’t feel forced. ‘I’m sure she’ll be happy for the baby to call you Grandma.’

CHAPTER TEN

O
N
THE
MORNING
of the wedding Meg woke early. She leapt out of bed, pulled on a robe and raced downstairs, her mind throbbing with the million things that must need doing. And then she pulled to a halt in the kitchen and turned on the spot. Actually, what
was
there to do? Everything was pretty much done. She and Elsie had hair and make-up appointments later in the day, and her father was coming over mid-afternoon to get ready for the wedding, but till then her time was her own.

She made a cup of tea and let herself out through the glass sliding door. The garden looked lovely, and the marquee sat in the midst of it like a joyful jewel.

And then she saw Ben.

He stood a few feet away, a steaming mug of his own in hand, surveying the marquee too. He looked deliciously dishevelled and rumpled, as if he’d only just climbed out of bed. He didn’t do designer stubble. Ben didn’t do designer anything. There was nothing designed in the way he looked, but...

Her hand tightened about her mug. An ache burned in her abdomen. She’d barely seen him these last two weeks. He’d rung a few times, to check if there was anything she’d needed him to do, but he’d kept the calls brief and businesslike. He’d overseen the assembly of the marquee yesterday afternoon, but he’d disappeared back next door as soon as the workmen had left. He’d avoided her ever since she’d mentioned the C word.

‘Morning, Meg.’

He didn’t turn his head to look at her now either.

A cold fist closed about her heart. He was her best friend. He’d been an integral part of her life for eighteen years. She couldn’t lose him. If she lost his friendship she would lose a part of herself.

The same way her father had lost a part of himself the day her mother had died.

The pressure in her chest grew until she thought it might split her in two.

‘Lovely day for a wedding.’

He was talking to her about the weather. Everything in the garden blurred. She lifted her face to the sky and blinked, tried to draw breath into lungs that had cramped.

When she didn’t speak, he turned to look at her. His eyes darkened and his face paled at whatever he saw in her face.

He shook his head. ‘Don’t look at me like that.’

She couldn’t help it. ‘Do you mean to resent me for ever? Do you mean to keep avoiding me? All because I want to do what’s right for our baby?’ The words tumbled out, tripping and falling over each other. ‘Don’t you trust me any more, Ben?’

His head snapped back. ‘This is about your trust, not mine!’ He stabbed a finger at her. ‘You wouldn’t need some third party to come in and organise custody arrangements if you trusted me.’

She flinched, but she held her ground. ‘Have you considered the fact that it might be myself I don’t trust?’ She poured the rest of her now tepid tea onto the nearest rosebush. ‘I already feel crazily possessive about this baby.’

She rested a hand against her rounded stomach. He followed the movement. She moistened her lips when he met her gaze again. ‘I’m going to find it hard to share this child with anyone—even with you, Ben. It wasn’t part of my grand plan.’ As he well knew. ‘I know that’s far from noble, but I can’t help the way I feel. I also know that you’re this baby’s father and you have a right to be a part of its life.’

But the first time their baby spent twenty-four full hours with Ben—twenty-four hours away from her—she’d cry her eyes out. She’d wander from room to room in her huge house, lost.

‘Having everything down in black and white will protect your rights. Have you not considered that?’

One glance at his face told her he hadn’t.

‘I don’t see why making everything clear—what we expect from each other and what our child can expect from us—is such a bad thing.’

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t even move.

‘I understand that down the track things might change. We can discuss and adapt to those changes as and when we need to. I’m not locking us into a for ever contract. We can include a clause that says we’ll renegotiate every two years, if you want.’

But she knew they needed something on paper that would set out their responsibilities and expectations and how they’d move forward.

For the sake of the baby.

And for the sake of their friendship.

‘I know you love this baby, Ben.’

Dark eyes surveyed her.

‘You wouldn’t turn your whole life on its head for no good reason. You want to be a good father.’

He’d stay for the baby in a way he’d never have stayed for her, but she wanted him to stay. She wanted it so badly she could almost taste it.

‘And you think agreeing to legalise our custody arrangements will prove I’ll be a good father?’

She tried not to flinch at the scorn in his voice. She was asking him to face his greatest fear. Nobody did that without putting up a fight. And when he wanted to Ben could put up a hell of a fight.

She tipped up her chin. ‘It’ll make us better co-parents. So, yes—I think it
will
make me a better mother and you a better father.’

His jaw slackened.

She stared at him and then shook her head. Her throat tightened. She’d really started to believe that he’d stay, but now...

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘If I’d known five months ago what would come of asking you to be my sperm donor I’d never have asked.’ She’d have left well alone and not put him through all this.

He stiffened. ‘But I want this baby.’

Something inside her snapped then. ‘Well, then, suck it up.’ She tossed her mug to the soft grass at her feet and planted her hands on her hips. ‘If you want this baby then man up to your responsibilities. If you can’t do that—if they intimidate you that much—then run off back to Africa and go bungee-jump off a high bridge, or rappel down a cliff, or go deep-sea diving in the Atlantic, or any of those other things that aren’t half as scary as fatherhood!’

He folded his arms and nodded. ‘That’s better. That meek and mild act doesn’t suit you.’

Her hand clenched. She stared at her fist and then at his jaw.

‘You’re right. I do need to man up and face my responsibilities.’

Her hand promptly unclenched.

He ran a hand through his hair. ‘Especially when they intimidate me, I expect.’

She stared, and then shook herself. ‘Exactly at what point in the conversation did you come to that conclusion?’

‘When you said how possessive you feel about the baby.’

Her nose started to curl. ‘When you realised a custody agreement would protect your interests?’

‘When I realised you weren’t my mother.’

Everything inside her stilled.

‘When I realised that, regardless of what happens, you will
never
become my mother. I know you will always put the baby’s best interests first. That’s when I realised I was fighting shadows—because regardless of what differences we might have in the future, Meg, we will never re-enact my parents’ drama.’

She folded her arms.

‘Are you going to tell me off now, for taking so long to come to that conclusion?’

‘I’m going to tell you off for not telling me you’d already come to that conclusion. For letting me rabbit on and...’ And abuse him.

‘I needed a few moments to process the discovery.’ He shifted his weight. ‘And I wanted to razz you a bit until you stopped looking so damn fragile and depressed. That’s not like you, Meg. What the hell is that all about?’

She glanced away.

‘I want the truth.’

That made her smile. ‘Have we ever been less than honest with each other?’ They knew each other too well to lie effectively to the other. ‘I’ve been feeling sick this past fortnight, worried that I’ve hurt our friendship. I want to do what’s right for the baby. But hurting you kills me.’

He tossed his now-empty mug to the grass, as she had earlier. It rolled towards her mug, the two handles almost touching. At his sides, his hands clenched.

‘The thing is, Ben, after this baby your friendship is the most important thing in the world to me. If I lost it...’

With a smothered oath, he closed the distance between them and pulled her in close, hugged her tightly. ‘That’s not going to happen, Meg. It will never happen.’

He held her tight, and yet she felt as if she was falling and falling without an end in sight. Even first thing in the morning he smelled of leather and whisky. She tried to focus on that instead of falling.

Eventually she disengaged herself. ‘There’s something else that’s been bothering me.’

‘What’s that?’

‘You keep saying you have no intention of forming a serious relationship with any woman.’

‘I don’t.’

‘Well, I think you need to seriously rethink that philosophy of yours, because quite frankly it sucks.’

He gaped at her.

‘You think fatherhood will be fulfilling, don’t you?’

‘Yes, but—’

‘So can committing to one person and building a life with them.’

He glared. ‘For you, perhaps.’

‘And for you too. You’re not exempt from the rest of the human race. No matter how much you’d like to think you are.’

He adjusted his stance, slammed his hands to his hips. ‘What is it with you? You’ve never tried to change my mind on this before.’

That was true, but... ‘I never thought you’d want fatherhood either, but I was obviously wrong about that. And I think
you’re
wrong to discount a long-term romantic relationship.’

He shook his head. ‘I’m not risking it.’

‘You just admitted I’m not like your mother. There are other women—’ the words tasted like acid on her tongue but she forced them out ‘—who aren’t like your mother either.’ She’d hate to see him with another woman, which didn’t make a whole lot of sense. She closed her mind to the pictures that bombarded her.

‘But I know you, Meg. I’ve known you for most of my life.’

‘Then take the time to get to know someone else.’

His face shuttered closed. ‘No.’

She refused to give up. ‘I think you’ll be a brilliant father. I think you deserve to have lots more children. Wouldn’t you like that?’

He didn’t say anything, and she couldn’t read his face.

‘I think you’d make a wonderful husband too.’ She could see it more clearly than she’d ever thought possible and it made her heart beat harder and faster. ‘I think any woman would be lucky to have you in her life. And, Ben, I think it would make you happy.’ And she wanted him happy with every fibre of her being.

He thrust out his jaw. ‘I’m perfectly happy as I am.’

She wanted to call him a liar, except...

Except maybe he was right. The beguiling picture of Ben as a loving husband and doting father faded. Maybe the things that would make her happy would only make him miserable. The thought cut at her with a ferocity she couldn’t account for.

She swallowed. ‘I just want you to be happy,’ she whispered.

He blew out a breath. ‘I know.’

She wanted Ben to stay in Port Stephens. She
really
wanted that. If he fell in love with some woman... She shied away from the thought.

Her heart burned. She twisted her hands together. This evening Dave meant to offer Ben the chance to fulfil his dream—to offer him a place on that yacht.

‘Can I hit you with another scary proposition?’

He squared his shoulders. ‘You bet.’

Would it translate into emotional blackmail? Was it an attempt to make sure he did stay?

He leant down to peer into her face. ‘Meg?’

She shook herself. It wasn’t blackmail. It was her making sure Ben had all the options, knew his choices, that was all.

She swallowed. ‘Would you like to be my birth partner? Would you like to be present at the birth of our child?’

He stilled.

‘If you want to think about it—’

‘I don’t need to think about it.’ Wonder filled his face. ‘Yes, Meg. Yes. A thousand times yes.’

Finally she found she could smile again. What was a round-the-world yacht voyage compared to seeing his own child born? Behind her back, she crossed her fingers.

* * *

‘Megan, I’m marrying Elsie because I care about her.’ Laurie Parrish lifted his chin. ‘Because I love her.’

Meg glanced up from fussing with her dress. In ten minutes he and she would walk out into the garden to meet Elsie and Ben and the ceremony would begin.

‘I never doubted it for a moment.’ She hesitated, and then leant across and took the liberty of straightening his tie.

He took her hand before she could move away again. ‘Before I embark on my new life I want to apologise to you and acknowledge that I haven’t been much of a father to you. I can’t...’ His voice grew gruff. ‘I can’t tell you how much I regret that.’

She stared at him and finally nodded. It was why he’d given her the house. She’d always sensed that. But it was nice to hear him acknowledge it out loud too. ‘Okay, Dad, apology accepted.’

She tried to disengage her hand, but he refused to release it. ‘I’m also aware that an apology and an expression of regret doesn’t mean that we’re suddenly going to have a great relationship.’

She blinked.
Wow!

‘But if it would be okay with you, if it won’t make you uncomfortable or unhappy, I would like to try and build a relationship—a good, solid relationship—with you.’

Her initial scepticism turned to all-out shock.

‘Would you have a problem with that?’

Slowly, she shook her head. She had absolutely no problem with that. It would be wonderful for her child to have grandparents who loved it, who wanted to be involved. Only...

She straightened. ‘I’ll need you to be a bit more enthusiastic and engaged. Not just in my life but in your own too.’ She would need him to make some of the running instead of leaving it all up to her. But if he truly meant it...

Her heart lifted and the resentment that had built inside her these last few months started to abate. Unlike Ben, bitterness and anger hadn’t crippled her during her teenage years. Sadness and yearning had. She couldn’t erase that sadness and yearning now, and nor could her father. Nobody could. They would never get back those lost years, but she was willing to put effort into the future.