First Comes Baby.... Michelle Douglas
I got that feeling too.’
Her father had come to fatherhood late, Elsie had come to motherhood early, and her daughter—Ben’s mother—had fallen pregnant young too. All of which made her father and Elsie contemporaries. She shook her head. They still seemed unlikely allies to her.
‘But…’ Ben shifted on his chair. ‘Do we really care?’
Yes, unfortunately she did. Unlike her father, she couldn’t turn her feelings off so easily. Unlike Ben, she couldn’t bury them so deep they’d never see the light of day again.
Ben clenched a fist. ‘You know what gets me? That you’re now stuck looking after this monstrosity of a white elephant of a house.’
She stilled. Ben didn’t know? ‘I’m not precisely stuck with it, Ben. The house is now mine—he gifted it to me. He had the deeds transferred into my name before he left.’
His jaw slackened. ‘He what? Why?’
She cut another slice of Camembert, popped it in her mouth and then shrugged. ‘Search me.’
He leaned forward. ‘And you accepted it?’
She had. And she refused to flinch at the incredulity in his voice. Some sixth sense had told her to, had warned her that something important hinged on her accepting this ‘monstrosity of a white elephant of a house’, as Ben called it.
‘Why?’
She wasn’t sure she’d be able to explain it to Ben, though. ‘It seemed important to him.’
Dark blue eyes glared into hers. She knew their precise colour, even if she couldn’t make it out in the moonlight.
‘You’re setting yourself up for more disappointment,’ he growled.
‘Maybe, but now nobody can argue that I don’t have enough room to bring up a baby, because I most certainly do.’
He laughed. Just as she’d meant him to. ‘Not when you’re living in a five-bedroom mansion with a formal living room, a family room, a rumpus and a three car garage,’ he agreed.
‘But?’
‘Hell, it must be a nightmare to clean.’
‘It’s not so bad.’ She grinned. ‘Confession time—I have a cleaning lady.’
‘Give me a tent any day.’
A tent was definitely more Ben’s style.
She straightened. ‘You’re home for a week, right?’ Ben never stayed longer than a week. ‘Do you mind if I make us an appointment with my doctor for Wednesday or Thursday?’
‘While I’m in Fingal Bay, Meg, I’m yours to command.’
The thing was, he meant it. Her heart swelled even more. ‘Thank you.’ She stared at him and something inside her stirred. She shook it away and helped herself to more cheese, forced herself to stare out at the bay. ‘Now, you’ve told me how you ended up in Mexico when I thought you were leading a tour group to Machu Picchu, but where are you heading to next?’
Ben led adventure tours all around the world. He worked on a contract basis for multiple tour companies. He was in demand too, which meant he got to pick and choose where he went and what he did.
‘The ski fields of Canada.’
He outlined his upcoming travel plans and his face lit up. Meg wondered what he’d do once he’d seen everything. Start at the beginning again? ‘Have you crewed on a yacht sailing around the world yet?’
‘Not yet.’
It was the goal on his bucket list he most wanted to achieve. And she didn’t doubt that he eventually would. ‘It must take a while to sail around the world. You sure you could go that long without female company?’
‘Haven’t you heard of a girl in every port?’
She laughed. She couldn’t help it. The problem was with Ben it probably wasn’t a joke.
Ben never dated a woman for longer than two weeks. He was careful not to date any woman long enough for her to become bossy or possessive. She doubted he ever would. Ben injected brand-new life into the word footloose. She’d never met anyone so jealous of his freedom, who fought ties and commitment so fiercely—and not just in his love-life either.
Her stomach clenched, and then she smiled. It was the reason he was the perfect candidate.
She gripped her hands together. A baby!
CHAPTER TWO
I’M PREGNANT!!!
The words appeared in large type on Ben’s computer screen and a grin wider than the Great St Bernard Pass spread across his face.
Brilliant news, he typed back. Congratulations!!!
He signed off as Uncle Ben. He frowned at that for a moment, and then hit ‘send’ with a shake of his head and another grin. It had been a month since his visit home, and now…Meg—a mum-to-be! He slumped in his chair and ran a hand back through his hair. He’d toast her in the bar tonight with the rest of the crew.
He went to switch off his computer but a new e-mail had hit his inbox: FAVOURITE Uncle Ben! Love, M xxx
He tried the words out loud. ‘Favourite Uncle Ben.’ He shook his head again, and with a grin set off into the ice and snow of a Canadian ski slope.
Over the next two months Ben started seeing pregnant women everywhere—in Whistler ski lodges, lazing on the beaches of the Pacific islands, where he’d led a diving expedition, on a layover in Singapore, and in New Zealand before and after he led a small team on a six day hike from the Bay of Islands down to Trounson Kauri Park.
Pregnant women were suddenly everywhere, and they filled his line of vision. A maternal baby bulge had taken on the same fascination for him as the deep-sea pearls he collected for himself, the rare species of coral he hunted for research purposes, and his rare sightings of Tasmanian devils in the ancient Tasmanian rainforest. He started striking up conversations with pregnant women—congratulating them on the upcoming addition to their family.
To a woman, each and every one of them beamed back at him, their excitement and the love they already felt for their unborn child a mirror of how he knew Meg would be feeling. Damn it! He needed to find a window in his schedule to get home and see her, to share in her excitement.
In the third month he started hearing horror stories.
He shot off to Africa to lead a three-week safari tour, clapping his hands over his ears and doing all he could to put those stories out of his mind. Meg was healthy. And she was strong too—both emotionally and physically. Not to mention smart. His hand clenched. She’d be fine. Nothing bad would happen to her or the baby.
It wouldn’t!
‘You want to tell me what’s eating you?’ Stefan, the director of the tour company Ben was contracted to, demanded of Ben on his second night in Lusaka, Zambia. ‘You’re as snarly as a lion with a thorn in its paw.’
Ben had worked for Stefan for over five years. They’d formed a friendship based on their shared love of adventure and the great outdoors, but it suddenly struck Ben that he knew nothing about the other man’s personal life. ‘Do you have any kids, Stefan?’
He hadn’t known he’d meant to ask the question until it had shot out of his mouth. Stefan gave him plenty of opportunity to retract it, but Ben merely shoved his shoulders back and waited. That was when Stefan shifted on his bar stool.
‘You got some girl knocked up, Ben?’
He hadn’t. He rolled his shoulders. At least not in the way Stefan meant. ‘My best friend at home is pregnant. She’s ec static about it, and I’ve been thrilled for her, but I’ve started hearing ugly stories.’