Debbie Macomber - Navy Baby

Hannah immediately removed her arm and bolted upright. To her surprise, she was beneath the covers. “How’d you do that?” she asked, noticing at the same moment that he wasn’t.

“Do what?” Riley asked with a yawn. He sat up and stretched his hands high above his head and growled as though he were an injured bear stalking the woods. The sound was so fierce it was all Hannah could do not to cover her ears.

“You said you’d wake me,” she reminded him, not the least pleased with this turn of events.

“I tried.”

“Obviously you didn’t try hard enough.” Primly, she tossed aside the covers and leaped out of bed. “You had no right…We agreed—”

“Hold on a minute, sweetheart, if you’re—”

“Don’t call me sweetheart. Ever.” She hated the way he said it. Jerry had always spoken it with such tenderness and love, and she wouldn’t have this man who was her husband desecrate the few precious memories she had of her fiancé.

“All right,” Riley said, holding up his palms. “There’s no reason to get bent out of shape. For your information, I did try to wake you, but it was obvious you were in a deep sleep. It was either haul you into the living room or leave you be. I chose the latter.”

Hannah glared at him. She’d risen quickly and neither the baby nor her stomach appreciated the abrupt change of position.

“Hannah, you’re looking pale. Are you all right?”

“I’m perfectly fine,” she lied. The all-too-familiar sensation was taking root in the pit of her stomach. Her brow broke out in a cold sweat and her knees grew weak.

“There’s no reason to be so upset,” Riley continued, undaunted. “I did the gentlemanly thing and slept on top of the covers. Our skin never touched, I promise you.” He paused. “Hannah…”

She didn’t hear whatever he intended to say. With her hand over her mouth, she rushed down the hallway, making it to the toilet just in time to empty her stomach.

Riley helped her to her feet when she’d finished, and gently wiped her face with a damp cloth. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Damn, if I’d known you were going to get sick, I’d have slept on the sofa myself. I’ll tell you what—you can take the bed and I’ll camp out there until we move.”

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