Susan Crosby - The Baby Gift

It was the longest ten minutes of his life, waiting for her. He hovered outside her door, listening for any indication she needed him, contemplating one of the items he’d found in her trunk—a sympathy card he’d sent after Eric’s death. Inside it, his handwritten words, an offer of help, if she ever needed anything.

He didn’t even remember sending it, but she’d kept it. No coincidence, after all. She’d been on her way to see him. Why, Gina? What kind of trouble would make you come to me, a man you proclaimed to hate?

Finally he heard the bed springs give a little and a murmur of sound from her.

“Everything all right?” he asked through the door.

“You can come in.”

“Deputy seems to want to sleep with me,” she said when he stepped into the room. “Is that okay?”

J.T. eyed the dog who was already curled up by her feet, a smug look in his eyes.

“He’s a free agent,” J.T. said, drawing a smile from her.

“Thank you for everything, Chief.”

Chief. Well, that was one way of staying detached. “You’re welcome. Good night, Gina.”

She must’ve fallen asleep instantly. He padded around the room, hanging up her jacket, then putting her boots in the closet, needing order in the chaos of his mind. Finished, he leaned across her to pat the fickle dog good night, careful not to disturb her. She made a soft, sleepy sound.

“J.T.?”

His jolt of surprise came less from the fact she was awake but that it seemed both odd and familiar to hear her say his name.

“When I close my eyes, why do I picture you wearing a dark-blue uniform?”

Gina felt him move away from the bed. Opening her eyes, she saw him silhouetted in the bathroom doorway, shoulders set and legs planted, poised for action. She took a moment to admire him, this duty-driven man. His leashed strength and unwavering focus were even more appreciated now that she and her precious cargo were snuggled in a warm bed, out of harm’s way. It had been comforting hearing him move around the room, a brush of denim or a soft footfall the only sounds. But as she’d drifted toward sleep amid the peace his presence brought, a stark image of him imprinted itself in her mind.

“I thought you were asleep,” he said, folding his arms across his chest.

She couldn’t decide whether the edge in his voice was apology or accusation. “Do you wear a blue uniform?” she asked.

“No. Tan shirt, brown pants. Standard issue.”

Her temple pulsed. She spun her wedding ring, still hoping to draw reassurance from it, still finding none.

“There’s a photograph of me in a blue uniform with my parents in the hall outside the room,” he said, “taken the day I graduated from the police academy. I spent nine years on the L.A.P.D. before I accepted this job.”

She closed her eyes as fresh pain lanced her skull. Needing a diversion, she tried to focus on the conversation. “When did you move here?”

“What’s wrong, Gina?”

Silent as a stalking panther, he’d returned to the side of her bed and crouched there, although he didn’t touch her. She could’ve used a hug, a solid shoulder to lean on for just a minute.

“Do you need me to call Max? Are you in labor?”

Distract me, she begged him silently, wishing her head didn’t hurt every time something threatened to cut through the barbed wire guarding her memory. “I’m all right. I realized I could use a couple of extra pillows, though, if you have some.”

A cool breeze fanned her face at his instant departure. Deputy wriggled closer, then rested his head on her thigh, his liquid gaze uncensuring. The baby seemed settled, as well. Bracketed by baby and dog, Gina felt a contentment that she knew somehow was rare for her. Why?

And why wasn’t her husband with her? Eric. He should love and protect—

Fear stuck its claws in her, its talons wickedly sharp. What if it was Eric she was running from?

What if it wasn’t?

The chief suddenly loomed over her. “Are two pillows enough?”

She clenched the blanket with her fists, tucking it to her chin. Maybe she couldn’t trust anyone, not even J.T. Ryker, chief of police of Lost and Found, California. And she was alone with him, under his complete control—

“Gina?”

Deputy lifted his head, whining a little. J.T. patted him, all the while observing something in Gina’s expression he hadn’t seen before. Had her memory returned? He stooped down until they were eye to eye. She drew back. The blanket she gripped like an iron shield shook.

“Don’t be afraid of me,” he said, guessing.

“I don’t know you,” she whispered, her eyes wide and searching.

“Yes, you do.”

She shook her head.

“I’m the man who’s going to protect you with his life.”

A watery sheen coated her eyes. Her throat convulsed. “Why would you do that?”

Because I care about you. I always have. The words stayed locked tighter than a cell door. He had his orders from Max. He wasn’t about to jeopardize her recovery by revealing they had a past, and a complicated one at that. Plus, she had a new man in her life, the father of the child she carried.

“I took an oath to protect and serve. It’s not a promise I take lightly. You’re safe with me, Gina. In every possible way.”

She seemed to relax all at once. The blanket fluttered, then drifted over her body, molding it again. Her eyelids lowered a little, her mouth softened. Their gazes met and held. Then, amazingly, she cupped his face with her hand.

“I’ll trust you,” she said quietly.

“Good.” He stood, breaking the contact. “I forgot to ask if you’re hungry.”

“Dr. Hunter gave me some soup while you were gone checking my car.”

She reached for the extra pillows and pulled them under the blankets, one apparently to cushion her belly, the other she shoved farther down. Between her knees? Then she burrowed like a settling kitten.

“If you need anything at all, just shout. I won’t be far,” he said, clenching his fists. He never wanted to see that look of fear in her eyes again. “If Deputy becomes a pain in the rear, tell him to get out.”

“Will he?” she asked, her voice slurred and sleepy. “Get out, that is?”

“Probably not. He’s training impaired. But I’ll hear and come get him.”

She smiled, then her breathing took on the slow, easy rhythm of sleep.

J.T. left the bathroom light on and the door cracked open to guide her should she wake. He looked out the window of his bedroom, noted that the blizzard had let up. Still, between the snow and the televised Rose Parade and football games, people would likely stay home today, and he wouldn’t be needed in his office. He’d heard the Caltrans crew pass by twice, already plowing the state highway. He lived close to the highway because of the accessibility, no matter what the weather. Most people would have to clear their own driveways or wait for Barney Cochran’s teenage sons to roll out of bed and plow the private roads they were contracted to do. J.T. also needed to have Gina’s car brought to his place.

His mouth twisted in a half smile. Everyone would see the unfamiliar car, and word would spread that he had a guest for the first time since he’d come to town. The rumors would start…

Turning from the window, he dropped onto his bed. With effort he tugged off his boots, then stretched out on the quilt, exhaustion rolling in waves down his body, but sleep not even a temptation. The nightmare would return. He didn’t doubt it for a second.

How long could he stall it?

He drew a deep, settling breath. That didn’t help, either. Gina’s perfume clung to his shirt, reminding him of their first meeting. She, a Phoenix, Arizona, transplant about to start her sophomore year at the University of Southern California. He, a thirty-one-year-old big-city cop trying not to let the job make him too cynical.