Laura Altom - Babies and Badges

Maybe she’d even still believe in happy endings, because she wouldn’t have had her dreams twice shattered by grim-faced company representatives standing at her front door. What were the odds of first, Tri-Comm reps telling her when she’d been just eight years old that her father had died of a heart attack while on the corporate jet. Sorry. We’re so sorry. Then later, years later, Jubilee Cruise Lines reps telling her that not only had Tom, her husband, died, but he’d died on holiday with another woman. A woman who’d claimed to also be his wife! We can only imagine your pain.

Tom hadn’t even been in the right country. He’d told Cassie he was on a business trip to London. In reality, he’d been on a Caribbean cruise when he and his legal wife—a woman named Felicity—died in a freak diving accident.

The day Cassie had found out she was carrying twins, she’d been so happy—they’d been so happy. Tom had held her hand during the ultrasound, kissing the tips of her fingers, telling her she looked beautiful and was going to make the best mom in the world. His loving touch combined with the fierce love she already felt for the tiny miracles growing deep within her had made her teary with joy.

Even though the doctor warned Cassie that multiple births meant multiple risks, she hadn’t cared. The only thing that mattered was that she and her beloved husband would soon have not one baby to love, but two.

She’d been twelve weeks pregnant when her world crashed around her. Tom’s death had been hard enough to take, but hearing that their whole life together had been a lie—that was almost worse than knowing he was dead.

She’d been with Tom since college.

The night of her twenty-first birthday, when she’d taken legal possession of the millions her father left, Tom had proposed. She’d been so dewy-eyed with adoration for him, she’d taken his words of love at face value.

After all, why would he say he loved her if he didn’t?

Little did she know, he’d been living a double life.

With another wife.

Another house, car and cat.

How many times had she wished Tom were still alive? Not so she could hug him or kiss him or tell him how much she missed him, but so she could have the satisfaction of telling him how much she hated his guts!

Since the day she’d discovered the depth of Tom’s deceptions, Cassie had immersed herself in the everyday running of her interior design firm. Her best friend and co-worker, Chloe, was constantly telling her to slow down, reminding her that she didn’t have to work.

To which Cassie replied, no, she didn’t have to work. She needed to. For if she slowed for even one second to think about all the laughs Tom and this Felicity woman must’ve had at her expense, she’d surely go stark raving mad!

For five idyllic years, she’d played house, while all that time Tom had been playing her for a fool!

Looking back on the past months, and especially the past week, from the perspective one gained after an uncomfortably close brush with death, Cassie guessed she should’ve paid closer attention when her doctor told her not to go on a business trip so close to her due date.

But since Tom’s death, Cassie prided herself on controlling everything.

Guess in this case, Mother Nature got the last laugh.

Eyeing Noah again, she yawned. Not because anything about him was remotely boring, but because something about just having him here with her in the room filled her with an uncharacteristic feeling of peace. One she hadn’t felt since the last time she’d fallen asleep in his arms.

NOAH LOOKED UP when the door to Cassie’s room burst open and a nurse wheeled in a baby on a cart.

“How’s our mommy doing?” the heavyset woman asked.

“Still pretty out of it.”

“That’s to be expected,” she said, making a clucking sound that matched the baby ducks splashed all over her yellow surgical scrubs. “She had a rough delivery, but she’ll be fine now.” Leaving the clear plastic bassinet with the baby near the sink, the nurse washed her hands before bustling over to the bed. “Ms. Tremont, I know you’re still tired, but your babies need breakfast. We’ve been in touch with your OB/GYN in Little Rock and she said you’re planning on breastfeeding?”

Eyes closed, the weary patient nodded.

“Okay, then, I’m sorry to do this, but you have to wake up.” The nurse lightly shook Cassie’s shoulder.

“B-but…” Cass licked her dry lips, and Noah reached for the tube of Chapstick he’d bought her in the hospital gift shop, gliding some on. With the tip of her tongue, she traced his balmy line.

Noah swallowed hard.

How come Cassie merely licking her lips had resulted in immediate below-the-belt action?

Sleep. Had to be lack of sleep.

Only possible explanation.

“It’s okay, darlin’,” he finally found the air to say, holding her left hand while speaking into her thick hair. “Time to rise and shine.”

“Do I have to?”

The nurse laughed. “You can’t imagine how many of my new mommies say the same thing. Come on now, Ms. Tremont, time to wake up. Your adorable babies need their first meal.”

“Maybe Cass needs something to eat?” Noah suggested.

“She’ll be fine,” the nurse said with a sharp, authoritarian tone.

Well, excuse me for asking. Checking that his tiny princess hadn’t been frightened by the nurse’s bark, Noah eyed his baby girl. Lucky for Nurse Nasty she contentedly continued her nap.

“Most of our new mommies are a little out of it, but Ms. Tremont, here, had an extra tough time.”

“Tell me about it,” he said under his breath.

“You the father?”

“No, I—”

“Well, then, you’ll have to leave. Patient privacy and all.”

“I don’t think so.” With me gone, who’s gonna keep an eye on you, Nurse Nasty?

“Please, sir. Ms. Tremont really does need to get on with the business of mothering. While nursing is a natural, beautiful part of that process, the patient will undoubtedly want her privacy.” The nurse handed a pink bundle to Cass.

Nursing? Noah scratched his head. What was this woman talking about? Cassie couldn’t even get out of bed. How was she going to—oh.

That kind of nursing.

The kind with babies and breasts.

I’m outta here!

Noah leaned over the bed rail to kiss Cassie’s forehead, then the baby’s. “I’ll uh, be around,” he said, giving Cassie’s hand a final squeeze. “Just holler if you need me. Not that you will. I mean, I’m sure you can handle this on your own. But you know how—”

“I know,” she said, wide eyes glowing from the intensity of her adorable sleepy grin. “Go on. Get. I’ll be fine.”

Sure, she’d be fine, but what about him?

Those spur-of-the-moment kisses had been a mistake!

Cassie’s grin had him all hot and cold and maybe even dizzy. And all of that was before he’d made the mistake of kissing her baby! The kid smelled confusing. Like sweetness and innocence and baby lotion and shampoo. But then underlying that was Cass’s exotic oriental perfume—that spicy, musky, sexy, sultry storm of mixed signals designed for no good reason other than landing him in serious bachelor trouble.

Okay, deep breaths.

There’s nothing to be alarmed about.

He hadn’t slept in what? Like eighteen hours? Surely lack of sleep was bound to mess with a guy’s head?

“Noah?” Cassie asked, voice ripe with concern. “Are you okay? All of a sudden you don’t look so good.”

“Sure…I’m, ah, great.” He swallowed hard, ran his fingers around the already loose collar of the dress shirt he had yet to change out of. “Probably just need some shut-eye.”

“Of course, you do. Poor thing, you’ve been here all night. I’m fine. Why don’t you go home and get some sleep?”