Julianna Morris - Daddy Woke Up Married

“We’ve never really discussed it,” Emily said, finally lifting her head. “You don’t like to talk about things like that.”

You don’t like to talk about things like that…. Terrific. Now he had another item to add to the growing list of questions about himself. But surely he confided in Emily. She was his wife, and she was also the kind of woman who’d want a close relationship with her husband. Besides, marriage meant partnership, didn’t it?

The sudden intake of her breath grabbed his attention. “What? Is something wrong?”

“Did you feel that?” she asked excitedly. “The baby moved.” She squirmed until she could clasp both her hands over his, holding him to the firm swell of her belly. “It’s the first time I’ve felt anything.”

Awed, Nick realized there was a flutter of movement beneath his palm. A faint, compelling reminder of growing life.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Emily asked, tears welling in her blue eyes.

Uh-oh. Uncertain about the best thing to do, he cuddled her close. He didn’t know the cause—the accident, fear or just plain happiness over their baby. He doubted she cried very often. “It’s all right,” he soothed.

“Drat. I thought I was over this.” She sniffed and gulped. “It’s just hormones. They all attacked at once. I was doing fine until today.”

“I see.”

“I don’t cry, not ever,” she said, her stubborn chin raised high.

“I know.” Nick wiped the damp streaks from her cheeks, and she gave him a wobbly smile. God, she was so desirable. Without even thinking he lifted her face and kissed her.

It was even better than the first time. She was soft and fragrant, still trembling with emotion and excitement. After a long moment she moaned and held him in return. He could easily have forgotten they were in a hospital, but for the emphatic sound of someone clearing their throat.

“Nick…Emily?”

He almost swore, recalling just in time that Emily didn’t like that kind of language around their baby. She must believe in that “influence from the womb” theory of psychology. Nick felt an instant of supreme, absolute frustration—how could he remember a psychology theory and remember nothing tangible about his own wife?

“You have lousy timing, Doc. Again,” he growled. Regretfully, he brushed a last kiss across Emily’s lips before releasing her. “How do I break out of this prison, anyhow?”

Paige Wescott shrugged, her smile growing wider as she watched a flustered Emily straighten her clothing. “A specialist is coming from Seattle to check you over, but you’ll probably be released tomorrow or the next day.”

“How about a temporary release?” he suggested, smoothing his hand over Emily’s shoulder, covered only by a one-inch strap. “You release me tonight, and I’ll come back in the morning. I promise.”

Paige seemed to be having trouble controlling her expression, and Emily glared at her. “I…uh…that’s not such a good idea. You haven’t been cleared for extracurricular activities.”

“Nick, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that,” Emily said. “I don’t think—”

“Wait a minute.” Frowning, Nick ran his thumb over her ring finger—her bare ring finger. “Where’s your wedding ring?”

“Um…at home. I took it off because I was baking cookies.” Emily wanted to die. The truth was, there wasn’t any wedding ring. Nick had wanted to buy one, but she hadn’t let him because it had seemed silly under the circumstances.

“You took it off?”

Emily looked at him carefully, yet she couldn’t be sure if it was reproach or uncertainty in his face. She decided a direct attack was called for, if only to distract him. “Yes. But you don’t wear your ring, either.”

Nick glanced down at his own hand, still frowning. He clenched his fingers into a brief, tight fist. “I’ll have to change that. How long have we been married?”

Emily’s heart speeded up. She knew the answers to his questions, it just seemed so strange to hear Nick asking such things. In some ways he knew her better than anyone else. “A little over five months.”

Five months? Nick whistled to himself, rather pleased with the knowledge. “We sure didn’t waste any time. You must have gotten pregnant right away.”

“Yes, it’s August 21 now,” Dr. Wescott said deliberately. “The baby is due December 30th.”

Nick groaned. “I don’t need to be told the date… again. ” He turned to his wife and shrugged. “They keep repeating the date and what town I live in— all kinds of stuff. I think the doc pulled out an old psych textbook and is experimenting on me.”

He gently stroked Emily’s back and rubbed her neck.

“You’ lucky,” Paige retorted. “A hundred years ago we would have just hit you over the head again.” She looked at Emily. “I forgot to tell you to come by my office before you leave. You’ under a lot of stress—I want you to take some extra vitamins for a few days.”

Nick shook his head after the doctor walked out. It hadn’t taken him long to get tired of hospital life. Not that he had much ability to make comparisons in view of his faulty memory.

“Nick…we have to talk,” Emily said. Before he could stop her she slid out of his reach and into a nearby chair.

“Okay. What about?”

Emily pursed her lips, trying to decide the best way to tell Nick that they’d be sleeping separately, no matter when he got home.

“I don’t think we should be intimate. Not right away,” she said quickly. “It would be best…for both of us. Don’t you think?” She cringed at the last question. Giving Nick an option wasn’t what she’d had in mind.

“Anyway,” she continued. “I’m in a awkward stage right now with the baby. Being together…” A wild heat flooded Emily’s face and she faltered. “It’s difficult… and my stomach gets upset so easily. And…and with everything that’s happened, it would be better to take things slowly. You know, get settled into a routine.”

He leaned back on one arm, his face expressionless.

“Nick?”

“Okay. We’ll take things one day at a time,” he agreed calmly—a lot more calmly than she’d really expected. “This has been as tough for you as it is for me. Tougher probably.” Then he smiled, a slow, sexy, hot smile. A smile that infuriated her all the more because it said he was just humoring his overly emotional, pregnant wife. “Don’t worry, it’ll be all right when we get home, Angel.”

I’m not your angel, and I’m trying to save you from major embarrassment, she shouted silently. But her protest did nothing to stop the flow of sensual heat sliding through her veins.

I can’t believe this. I’ve known Nick for more than twenty-five years. I can’t be feeling this way. For years I’ve teased him about his little black book and all those women parading through his life. He was even voted “most likely to escape the ball and chain” by his high school senior class.

Boy, she thought darkly, he’d thought that was funny.

“Think about it,” Nick continued. “You’ just uneasy because I can’t remember us being married. I bet you feel it’s like I’m being unfaithful, even though it’s my own wife I want to make love to.”

Her jaw sagged. That’s it! Time to follow Paige’s advice. Act normally. She’d never let Nick get away with a statement like that if he was himself.

She opened her mouth, “I think they call that kind of idiocy psycho-babble. Honey. ”

Okay, Nick decided, he was wrong. That wasn’t the reason Emily wanted to keep him at arm’s length. But he was tired of trying to understand every stray glance, every uncomfortable pause, every peculiar comment people made around him. It was altogether likely they had a wonderful marriage, with no real problems. He had to believe that. Hell, he needed to believe that.