Having Adam's Baby. Christyne Butler
stood spotlighted in a beam of bright sun, all toned muscles and tanned skin, except for the dark blue boxer briefs that hugged him in all the best huggable places.
The man was nearly naked.
What had he asked her? It had been a simple question, one she should be able to answer, but a now familiar rippling of her stomach had her slapping one hand over her mouth. She bolted past him and disappeared into the hall bathroom.
Keeping her eyes screwed tightly shut, her body retaliated, as it had for the last few mornings since her visit to Liz’s office, and emptied itself of her breakfast.
The one meal of the day that had always been her favorite.
Not anymore. No matter what she ate, from fruit to cereal to eggs, nothing had staying power. She’d hoped the fresh watermelon she’d eaten an hour ago would be the answer.
She’d been wrong.
“Are you okay?”
Adam’s voice, soft but clear, made her jump. He’d followed her and stood close. Very close. Her fingers tightened where she gripped the toilet seat. Of all the humiliating moments in a woman’s life, this had to be the worst.
“No.” She cringed at the hoarseness of her voice.
“Can I get you anything?”
Fay opened her eyes, averting her gaze to the white floor tiles and found one masculine leg in her line of sight. All she could see was from his knee down, but the naturally tanned skin covered with fine hair instantly brought back the full-body image from moments ago when he’d suddenly appeared in his living room.
How was it her body could go from sickness to hunger within the span of a few seconds?
Hormones, hormones, hormones.
Thanks to the “what to expect” book Fay had bought recently, she’d latched on to the most popular reason for all the craziness her body was going through. Blamed for everything from morning sickness to her breasts suddenly being a tad too big for her bras, hormones had to be the reason her first thought at the sight of Adam had been—
“Fay?”
His voice had her stomach flipping over again. “Privacy. I need privacy.”
He stepped back into the hall and she stretched out one leg and kicked the door closed. Curling her feet back beneath her backside and still too weak to move—and not completely sure yet if she should—Fay grabbed a nearby hand towel and wiped at her mouth.
She settled for leaning against the cool porcelain of the bathtub, one hand pressed gently to her stomach.
Adam was home.
So much for one more week to finish the work on his home and to find a way to tell him he was going to be a father.
How could she tell him about the baby?
Soon the changes in her body would be visible—to him, to everyone—and it wouldn’t take Adam long to figure out when she’d gotten pregnant. Not that she’d even think of passing this child off as anyone else’s.
No, this baby was his, and despite all the lunacy her body was going through, she was already so in love with their child. After giving up any hope of experiencing this kind of miracle herself, she planned to enjoy every minute.
Even the not-so-pleasant ones like this.
A quick knock on the door sent Fay’s heart racing. She wasn’t ready yet. Adam had returned earlier than scheduled and she needed more time. Time to think, to plan, to figure what she was going to do about her business, the apartment, her in-laws, her parents …
About him.
The door opened, but only Adam’s hand appeared, a large glass of ice water in his grasp. He set it down on the sink and retreated, but then a sealed toothbrush and small tube of toothpaste joined the glass.
The door closed again with a quiet click and Fay released the breath she wasn’t even aware she’d been holding.
The nausea mostly gone, she rose and quickly rinsed out her mouth, brushed her teeth and splashed water on her face. Her reflection in the mirror had her yanking out her ponytail and redoing it, trying to tame her curls in a messy knot on top of her head.
She drank the ice water, its coolness bathing her throat as she strained to hear anything on the other side of the door.
Was he still there?
Of course he was still here. He lived here. And he had every right to know why she was in his home, breaking dishes and tossing her cookies in his bathroom.
She took a deep breath and threw back her shoulders to fake confidence she wished she felt. If only she knew what to say when she walked back into the living room.
She opened the door and froze.
Adam leaned casually against the far wall, all six feet plus of him, arms crossed over his naked chest, bare feet crossed at his ankles. At least he’d pulled on a pair of jeans, even if they did ride low enough on his hips for those dark briefs to peek out over the waistband.
Her stomach clenched again. Tingling sensations danced over her skin from head to toe, and her throat went dry.
This she couldn’t blame on the pregnancy.
No, the blame was squarely on him. The reaction echoed those uncontrollable feelings the night she’d landed in his arms. Instead of continuing to rant against what his advice to his best friend had cost her, she had given in as he’d lowered his mouth and gently brushed his lips over hers.
Then she’d kissed him back.
“You feeling better?”
Fay’s gaze jerked to his face, and she realized he’d been watching her gawk. She swallowed hard and forced herself to move past him as she replied, “Yes, thank you.”
“Was it something you ate?”
“No.”
“Was it the sight of me?”
Her footsteps faltered at his question. “N-no, of course not.”
“So what?” Adam pushed, following her. “Some sort of bug or the flu?”
Yes, the nine-month flu, only she prayed the books were right and this awful morning sickness would ease after the first trimester.
“I’m just…not feeling well.” Back in the dining area, Fay saw he hadn’t cleaned up her mess. Thankful for the excuse, she knelt down and started gathering the broken fronds of the potted fern. “Sorry about this. I’ll get this picked up—”
“Fay, what’s going on?” Adam moved to stand directly in front of her. “What are you doing here?”
“Get back, there are sharp pieces here and you’re barefoot.” She brushed at his jean-clad leg before reaching for the plant itself.
Rising, she scooted around him into the kitchen and placed it back inside the empty cardboard box on the counter. Hopefully she could save the pretty asparagus fern. “What are you doing here? I mean, this is your house, but your unit isn’t scheduled to return until June—ohmigod.”
Suddenly the dizziness returned. The only possible reason for Adam being here … The same reason he’d come back to Destiny a year ago.
Two months ago.
She spun around and grabbed for the granite countertop to keep upright. “Are you here as an official escort again? Please tell me you aren’t responsible for another—”
Fay cut off her outburst, capturing her bottom lip with her teeth, but it was too late. As soon as the unfinished sentence left her mouth, she wished she could take it back.
She’d hurled a similar awful accusation at him eight weeks ago. To go there again, to make them both relive her resentment