Robyn Carr - Paradise Valley

When Abby went to bed, she lay awake for a very long time, just thinking. She knew Vanessa was right about almost everything. Of course Abby had to be more cooperative with Cameron, and she had no real concern about Cameron’s ability to be a decent parent. If she hadn’t guessed that much when she met him a few months ago, she certainly knew it now. He took her crap and still honored her needs, protecting her privacy, trying to keep her from panic and fear. His attention was a hundred percent aimed at the welfare of the children.

And there was the rub. Despite what she said, Abby still had memories of their night together in Grants Pass that made her skin turn hot. Cameron was a dream lover. His every word and action made her feel adored. In his hands satisfaction had been complete, shatteringly perfect. He was just the kind of man every woman hoped for.

He was probably exactly that way with every woman he coaxed into bed. The charm, the sensitivity, the power, even the humor. After all, once he realized he was face-to-face with her and she carried his babies, he hadn’t said he thought himself to be in love with her. He’d demanded his paternal rights but hadn’t suggested marriage.

He had said he’d looked for her. Wanted more time with her…

She flopped over in bed. She had to let him off the hook for that love-and-marriage thing—she’d have laughed off any declarations of love anyway and she’d never have agreed to marry him, a virtual stranger. That would be crazy.

But he was right, and Vanni was right. He’d been considerate of her feelings and she had been a shrew. Her children would be better off with a good father they could be proud of, than they would be with no father at all. These ideas cost her quite a lot of sleep that night.

She was up very early, but she didn’t beat Paul to the kitchen. He was having a cup of coffee as dawn was just barely peeking over the horizon. He looked over the rim of the cup with round eyes. “I apologize,” she said before even saying good-morning. “I was a little crazy last night, but I’m going to the clinic first thing this morning to apologize to Cameron and try to work with him on our…project.”

He smiled slightly. “I guess that’s a good idea. Considering.”

“Got any better ideas?” she asked.

“Abby, I don’t know anything about having babies,” Paul said. “I just know that when little Matt was coming I worried so much about him. Vanni was so upset and sad, I worried that might hurt the baby in some way. I think Mel was worried, too, but she told me that if being worried and scared caused serious problems, there wouldn’t have been a single healthy birth in the history of the world. I just wish you could be happy.” He cleared his throat. “I bet Cameron’s on your side. Bet he wishes that, too.”

She tilted her head and just smiled at him. “You’re right. I have to work on that. After all, I have some problems, but they’re under control at the moment. And I’m going to move forward with Cameron. If he doesn’t hate me too much…”

“Oh, he doesn’t.” She shot him a questioning look. “I’m sure he doesn’t,” he amended. He smiled lamely.

“I wish I could have a good strong cup of coffee,” Abby said, looking jealously at Paul’s big mug.

He laughed at her. “See, that by itself could make you cranky. All the things you give up to be a good mother.”

Vanessa was barely up with the baby when Abby was shrugging into her coat to leave the house. She thought if she got to the clinic before they opened, she could have a word with Cameron in private. She wasn’t sure what that word was going to be besides, “Sorry.”

She had to bang on the door more than once and finally, she saw a shadow approaching. She glanced at her watch; it was only seven-thirty and they weren’t due to open for business till nine. When he opened the door, her first word was right on. “Oh, sorry.”

He was wearing sweatpants, his chest and feet bare, a towel slung around his neck and his hair wet from the shower. She flushed a little, remembering that wide, hard chest as it had been pressed against her breasts. And those muscular arms that had held him up over her to keep from crushing her with his weight.

“I wanted to get here early, but I think I got here too early,” she said.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, opening the door for her. “You all right?”

“Well, I guess so.”

“What’s wrong, Abby?” he asked, looking instantly concerned. “Are you sick? In pain? Anything physically wrong?”

“I was a bitch. I came to apologize.”

“Oh,” he said, letting out a slow breath. “Forget it. You were upset. We were both upset. Having twins isn’t stress free. Let’s let it go.”

“I thought maybe we could talk a minute, if you have time.”

He gave her a small smile. “How about a cup of herbal tea?”

“I’d rather have a strong cup of coffee with a little Irish Mist and lots of cream, but I suppose that’s out of the question….”

He laughed lightly. “Bad idea. But there’s tea in the kitchen. Mel has it on hand for the pregnant girls.”

“That’s me,” she said. “Mel’s not a tea drinker?”

“Oh, no. Mel’s a hard-core caffeine junkie. She’d take it in the vein if she could.”

“I relate. I might be in withdrawal. That could be half the problem.”

“The tea is herbal, so it’s also decaf.”

“Beautiful,” she said sarcastically. “One blow after another.”

And this time his laugh was a little stronger. “Come to the kitchen. Have you had breakfast?”

“If it’s all the same to you, I’ll save that for after we’ve talked a bit.”

He filled the kettle and glanced over his shoulder. “Something about this little mission of yours upsetting your stomach?”

“Something about two babies is upsetting my stomach. Double morning sickness. It’ll pass.” She sat down. “I’ve already thrown up this morning, so we’re safe for a while.”

Cameron stared down at the kettle on the stove. She wouldn’t understand this, but he wished he could have been there for that. He’d like to be around for even the worst parts of the pregnancy; he’d like to be the one she complained to, blamed, criticized and harangued. Even though he was already getting plenty of that, he hated that she suffered her upset without his arms around her, comforting her as she calmed down. Crazy as it was, he wanted to watch her turn pea green, shoot for the bathroom, come out white as a sheet and fall into his arms. He’d like to be the partner, not the silent partner. He’d like to feel her big belly pressed up against him at night, waking him with the romping inside. He turned around and looked at her. “Would you like some soda crackers?”

“No, thank you.”

“You’re still having morning sickness at five months?”

“’Fraid so. Mel said it happens. Some of us are lucky. And I’m double lucky. My hormones have obviously gone wild.”

He got a cup and tea bag ready, poured himself a cup of high-test coffee, strong the way Mel liked it, and sat at the table with her.

“I don’t know where to start,” she said. “Cameron, I was mean and horrible last night and I’m sorry. I think I felt out of control. I’m not really angry with you. I’m not afraid you’d be a terrible father. It’s just this mess of mine. I’d like to keep you out of it. I’d like to keep the babies out of it.”

“I understand.”

“That night…The night this happened…” She took a breath. “I was upset, depressed, didn’t know which way to turn…. I never meant for something like that to happen. I shouldn’t have let it happen. It’s all my fault.”

“Abby, there’s no fault,” he said. He reached for her hand, but the teakettle whistled and he pulled back. He stood and fixed up her tea, bringing it to her. He got a spoon, cream and sugar. Then he sat down again while she dunked the tea bag. “Listen, it wasn’t about fault. We’re adults. We were adults that night, and it wasn’t a bad night. It was nice.”