Chapter 8 #3
Since Adam didn’t have a good answer to that question, he didn’t say anything. He stared up at the ceiling for a long time, and when he looked over at her again, he saw that she’d dozed off with tears staining her cheeks. Those tear streaks made him sad.
The cell phone peeking out of her hip pocket caught his attention.
Moving slowly and carefully—and without taking the time to change his mind or consider the ethical consequences of what he was about to do—he withdrew the phone without waking her.
Luckily it wasn’t password protected, which he’d have to talk to her about at some point.
He accessed the settings and programmed it so he could check her location at any given time.
Even though his conscience strongly objected, he’d made a decision during the enlightening hour he’d spent with her.
If anyone was going to help her go a little crazy this summer—in bed and out—it was going to be him.
Now he just had to convince her to let him while making sure his brother never, ever found out about it.
Owen got Holden changed, fed and settled in his crib.
The little guy looked up at him with big, trusting eyes that made Owen weak in the knees with love.
After helping to raise his six younger siblings, he’d never pictured himself acting like a dad to someone else’s kid.
But now he couldn’t imagine life without the little guy.
Except for the one day every month when Holden’s biological father came to the island to visit him, the baby belonged to Owen and Laura, and Owen couldn’t imagine loving a child of his own any more than he loved Holden.
He loved the way the baby snuggled into his embrace and squeezed his finger or gnawed on his thumb while teething.
He loved how Holden stared up at him as Owen fed him a bottle, and he loved that he was just as good as Laura was at getting him to burp.
He’d even mastered diaper changes and could do them now in the dark when necessary.
Since Holden came into his life, Owen had thought more about his own childhood than he had in years, wondering mostly how anyone could harm an innocent child.
Soon he would have to testify about his miserable upbringing at his father’s trial.
The thought of seeing Mark Lawry again—for the first time in more than a decade—made Owen feel sick and anxious, so he tried not to think about it.
But there was nothing he wouldn’t do to support his mom and her domestic violence case against his dad.
His siblings felt the same way. They were willing to walk through fire, literally, to make sure their father could never again hurt anyone else the way he’d hurt them.
Lying on his back in the crib, Holden looked up at him, his chubby legs bicycling the blanket right off. Laughing, Owen put it back over him. “Playtime is over, buddy. Time for some sleep.” He turned on the musical mobile and smoothed a hand over the baby’s soft hair. “See you bright and early.”
Owen’s days of sleeping until noon after working a late gig were long over. Getting up with the baby was now one of his two favorite ways to start the day. His other favorite way involved the baby’s mother. With Holden settled for the night, Owen wandered into the bedroom to check on her.
Laura lay on the bed staring up at the ceiling.
Her face was unusually pale, which it had been since the stomach flu hit her the week before.
Most of the other islanders who’d had the bug had bounced back a day or two later.
After a week, Laura was still flattened, even though she’d insisted on working and taking care of the baby.
“Is he asleep?” she asked.
“On his way.” Owen lay next to her and reached for her hand.
After seven months together, it still stopped his heart to realize he could hold her and touch her and make love to her any time he wanted.
She was his to keep, and nothing in his life had ever been more precious to him than her and the baby they both loved. “How’re you feeling?”
“Like crap. I feel like I’ve been sick the whole time I’ve known you.”
Smiling, he kissed her hand and then leaned over to kiss her lips. “You have not been sick the whole time. You were pregnant, which doesn’t count as sick, and you had the flu.”
“Why is everyone else over it, but I’m still feeling so bad?”
Owen didn’t let on that he’d asked himself that same question. “You…” He forgot what he was going to say as another thought struck him, one he hadn’t had before.
“What?”
He forced himself to meet her gaze. “Is it… Is it possible you might be pregnant again?”
Her face lost all remaining color, which wasn’t much to begin with. “No! I can’t be pregnant! Holden is only three months old!”
“Um, I hate to tell you that you can, in fact, be pregnant. Whether or not you are is something for Victoria to confirm, but don’t tell me it’s not possible. We haven’t exactly been careful.”
Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. “I can’t be,” she whispered.
Touched by her dismay, he turned on his side and put his arms around her. “If you are, it certainly wouldn’t be the end of the world. We’re getting married in August, long before the baby would arrive. It’s all good, honey.”
“No, it isn’t. I can’t be throwing up all day every day in the midst of our busy season.”
Owen smiled into soft blonde hair. “Maybe it won’t be as bad this time as it was with Holden.”
“It would certainly explain why I feel like death warmed over. Oh God, Owen! How could this have happened?”
“I can tell you if you really don’t know.”
“Don’t be funny,” she said between sobs. “There’s nothing funny about this.”
“Yes, there is.”
She punched his shoulder. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who pukes your guts up for months when you’re pregnant.”
Choking back a laugh he knew she wouldn’t appreciate, he tightened his arms around her. “I’m the one who scoops you up off the floor.”
“I’m not ready for another baby! I can barely handle the one I have.”
“You’re an awesome mom, and there’s nothing you can’t handle.”
“You have to say that. You did this to me.”
He drew back from her so he could see her pretty face, which was now puffy and red from crying. At least she had some color in her cheeks. “And it was the most fun I ever had doing anything to anyone.”
“Stop making jokes.”
He kissed the pout off her lips. “Stop acting like the world has ended.”
“I don’t want to be sick all summer,” she said with a moan. “It’s so awful.”
“I know, honey, but I’ll be right there with you, just like I was last time, and we’ll get through it together. And in a few months, we’ll have another baby to love as much as we love Holden.”
“Don’t get too excited before we know for sure.”
She was right, yet he had a sneaking suspicion that he was right, too.
It would explain a lot about why she’d been feeling so poorly.
“Hmm, let’s examine the evidence, shall we?
Exhibit A: feeling crappy for more than a week.
” He rested a hand on her flat belly, where there was no sign of a new life growing inside her—yet.
She’d bounced right back to her pre-baby figure after giving birth to Holden in February.
His hand moved from her belly to her chest, cupping a full breast.
“Don’t. They hurt.”
“Ah-ha! Exhibit B: sore boobs, and, might I add, a bit bigger than usual. Not that I’m complaining.”
She sniffled as new tears flooded her eyes. “Owen.”
He cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. “I love you. I love everything about you. I even love you when you’re puking. If you’re pregnant, I’ll take very good care of you and Holden, so don’t worry about anything.”
She banged her head against his chest repeatedly until he laughed and stopped her by holding her tight against him.
“When can we find out for sure?” he asked.
“Tomorrow,” she said, her voice muffled by his shirt.
“I want to come.”
“You already did. That’s what got me into this mess.”
Owen roared with laughter, thrilled by her, by them, by their amazing life together. And now, maybe, another child… For a guy who’d grown up in the midst of violence and fear, life didn’t get any sweeter than this.