SUSAN MEIER - Married Right Away

“I think I’ll call Barry’s boss at home. Tonight.”

The next morning, when Savannah opened her door to Ethan McKenzie, birds chirped in the trees in the front yard of her yellow Victorian home. The flowers lining her sidewalk and in the beds surrounding the wide gray porch seemed to be yawning and stretching in anticipation of the new June day. The sun was in the final stages of rising, leaving a band of pale reds and muted blues along the charcoal horizon, but there was sufficient light that Savannah noticed the strain in Ethan’s face, the tautness of his muscles, the caution in his approach.

“Good morning, Savannah.”

“Good morning, Ethan,” she said, motioning for him to enter.

She didn’t blame him for being tense. A great deal was at stake in this bargain. Not just his father’s career and her brother’s future, but also the future of their baby. Fortunately for her, she had spoken with Barry’s boss and with her own attorney in Thurmont, so she also wasn’t worried about custody anymore. Within a few days, she would hold the trump card in her hands. Though the proof of how their child was created had originally hurt her, it would now protect her. Even if she didn’t make any deal with Ethan, those papers were her insurance that he wouldn’t take away her baby.

Knowing her child was safe, she now had to do whatever she could to free Barry and protect Ethan’s father.

“I’ve decided getting married solves both of our problems,” she said immediately, if only because Ethan’s expression indicated he had worried about her answer. “I appreciate that you didn’t push me last night. But even after a few hours to think about the situation, I couldn’t come up with a better solution. So I’m in.”

To her amazement, he seemed to sag with relief. “And today we can finalize everything?”

“I think so,” she said, leading him into her kitchen. She wouldn’t tell him that after a short discussion with the clinic director about the right of an accused to see any evidence presented against him, he had agreed that she and Barry should be allowed access to the records once they secured legal authorization. She also wouldn’t disclose that she had contacted her attorney, Wallace Jeffries, who was in the process of drawing up legal documents. She was sure that behind the scenes Ethan was doing his level best to protect himself, too. He would be crazy if he wasn’t. And he would be naive to think she would go into this without precautions of her own. There was no need to discuss it. No need to threaten him. No need to tip her hand. Besides, if Ethan stuck to whatever bargain they made, she would never even use the information.

She led Ethan through the swinging door into her kitchen. Delicious aromas from freshly baked cinnamon rolls and coffee greeted them.

“Would you like something? Coffee? Maybe a cinnamon roll?”

Savannah watched Ethan glance at the syrupy rolls sitting on a plate in the center of her round table. “Did you just bake those?”

She grinned. “This morning.”

“Oh, God, please,” he said with a groan of pleasure. “Coffee and one of those rolls sounds like heaven.”

“Coming right up,” she said and gathered a plate, cup, saucer and appropriate silverware for her guest. For the first time since his arrival at her house the night before, she heard a tone of normalcy sneaking into their conversation and she desperately wanted to keep it. They didn’t merely need to be comfortable with each other to negotiate visitation fairly. They also needed to relax because they would be living together until after the baby was born. Somehow, they had to break through the awkwardness between them once and for all to make their lives bearable until they divorced.

Trying to lighten the mood, she said, “Marrying me is going to have some hidden advantages. I bake like no one you know.”

“So it seems,” he agreed, but his voice was oddly quiet. Almost reverent.

She turned and caught him staring at her stomach and recognition of what he was thinking sent a ripple of unease through her and breathed new life into the tension she had hoped was dying. Though they had both had less than twenty-four hours to acclimate to the fact that they were having a baby together, she had had five months to adapt to being pregnant. For him, all of this was still new and until he got accustomed to her pregnancy he would not be comfortable with her.

She licked her dry lips. “Pretty amazing isn’t it?”

His gaze didn’t move from her tummy. “Fascinating.”

“As my stomach grows, I realize the baby is getting bigger, becoming more developed, and it just sort of blows me away.”

“I can understand that,” Ethan whispered.

Savannah took a long breath and set the plate and utensils on the countertop. He sounded like an outsider looking in, and she realized that was the problem. As the baby’s father, he had as much right to be part of this experience as she had. Once he got those rights, once this pregnancy became as much his as it was hers, the awkwardness would vanish.

“Would you like to touch?” she softly offered.

Though he wore jeans and a simple shirt, he straightened in his chair as if he were wearing a three-piece suit and carrying a briefcase. “No. No. That’s not necessary. I’m sorry, Savannah. I don’t mean to be staring.”

She took a few steps closer to the table. “Ethan, this is your baby, too.”

His gaze fell to her stomach again. “I know.”

“And it’s good for you to want to be a part of things.”

He raised his dark brown eyes until they met hers. “You think?”

“Sure,” she cheerfully agreed, though her heart was beating a million miles a second because they were face-to-face with the intimacy that was actually the catalyst of their nervousness. When they worked together they hadn’t even been friends, just acquaintances. They never expected to be intimate, and didn’t want to be intimate, but they now couldn’t avoid it. So it was better to hit it head-on, because once they faced this, there would be nothing to be tense about anymore.

She lifted the loose T-shirt she wore over maternity jeans, exposing the smooth porcelain mound containing their baby.

But Ethan didn’t move. It hardly seemed as if he were breathing.

Savannah reached down and took his hand and placed it on her warm stomach. The baby picked that precise second to move. Slowly, gently, the tiny body shifted, causing a soft ripple across her tummy. Not something you could see, only something you could feel. Ethan’s gaze shot to hers.

“That’s him?”

Savannah inclined her head and suppressed a smile. “Or her.”

The baby moved again and Ethan grinned. “Or her,” he agreed, then laughed out loud. “My God, I can’t believe it. I’m going to have a baby,” he said, his voice dripping with awe.

“Technically I’m going to have the baby,” she said, stepping away because she was experiencing weird sensations, none of which had anything to do with her pregnancy. Staring into Ethan’s affection-filled brown eyes, she had felt as if she were bathed in warmth. Her skin felt silky and tingly at the same time, and she wanted nothing more than to lose herself in the moment.

Which wasn’t just wrong, it was dangerous. She didn’t really know Ethan’s full intentions about their child, but she did know he wasn’t marrying her because he loved her. With all the hormones floating around in her system and the loneliness that often consumed her, it would be very easy for her to misinterpret his affection for the baby as affection for her. She had to keep up her guard. Not lose her head. Not do something foolish.

She lowered her top to cover her tummy and turned to the counter again to retrieve the dishes and utensils. Quietly, she took them to the table. When she turned again to get the coffeepot, Ethan stopped her with a hand on her forearm.