Angel's Rest(54)

Whoa.

“Did you hear me?”

He didn’t respond. He couldn’t have forced words out of his mouth right then if his life had depended on it. He blinked hard. His heart pounded. Blood roared in his ears.

She’s pregnant? He closed his eyes and dragged a hand over his face. No. Dear Lord, no. Let him be asleep. Let this be a dream so that it wasn’t a nightmare. She couldn’t be pregnant. This wasn’t happening. I can’t do this again.

Daddy, look! They’re starting to bubble! Bubble bubble bubble bubble.

He filled his lungs with cookie-scented air. He’d gone cold and clammy inside, but his mouth was desert dry. This had to be a joke. It had to be! With effort, he croaked out a reply. “You’re kidding, right?”

She folded her arms. “No, I assure you, I’m not kidding. We had sex. We didn’t use anything. I’m pregnant.”

Gabe raked his fingers through his hair, locking his fingers atop his head as scenes from Christmas Eve flashed through his mind. He’d been drunk but not that drunk, cold and dark and desperate. She’d been blond and beautiful, light and bright and oh so hot. “Okay … yeah … we were careless. But I did think about it afterward. You’re on the pill.”

“What?” Shock registered on her face. “Why in heaven’s name would you think that?”

“I saw them. The blister pack. In your purse.”

“And what were you doing in my purse?”

He took another deep breath and blew it out hard, clearing the fog from his head. Panic rushed into the void as his thoughts spun back to early December. Restlessly he paced the small kitchen. “Remember that day at Cavanaugh House when the dog got mud all over you and you wanted to go home to change? You asked me to bring you your keys out of your backpack. I saw the package. Not in your purse, but in your backpack.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Baffled, she shook her head. “I didn’t have … oh.”

“You remember?”

“That wasn’t birth control. That was Celeste’s blood pressure medicine. I’d picked up her refill when I was in Gunnison.”

“Oh.”

“So that’s why you didn’t bother with a condom? You thought I was on the pill?”

He hesitated, then confessed, “Honestly, on Christmas Eve … I didn’t think at all, Nic.”

She closed her eyes and sounded defeated when she said, “Yeah. Me either.”

Gabe began to pace the small kitchen. “I’m sorry I didn’t call. Afterward. I tried to make myself call you Christmas Day, but I hadn’t quite worked up the nerve by the time Jack arrived. We left shortly thereafter.”

He’d been running away. Away from Christmas. Away from the anniversary of the accident. Away from his own behavior with Nic. He’d spent two weeks on a Caribbean beach, then when Jack got called to assist in a hostage rescue operation in Bolivia, he’d gone along to help. “I was ashamed, Nic. I pretty much attacked you.”

Nic shrugged.

“I wasn’t fighting you off. It wasn’t a fine moment for either of us.”

Gabe linked his fingers behind his neck and stared down at the floor. “I swear, I don’t believe this. Jennifer and I tried to get pregnant for a year and a half before it finally worked. I can’t believe that only one time …”

“You are not questioning your paternity of this child, are you?” she asked, a cautionary note in her tone.

He waved his hand. “No. No. Not at all. I just can’t believe the bad luck that—”

“Whoa.” Her chin came up and challenge lit her eyes. “Stop right there. Let’s get something straight right from the beginning here. You will not refer to this child as bad luck or a mistake or any other negative term. My own father did that, and it’s an ugly thing.”

“You’re right. Sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I just … my wife had so much trouble getting pregnant. Are you absolutely sure about this? Maybe stress has delayed your period. Maybe—”

“I took four pregnancy tests,” she interrupted. “Then I saw my ob-gyn in Gunnison. You gave me a gift Christmas Eve, Santa Claus, and just in case you’re wondering, I’m not giving it back. I’m having this child.”

She was having this child. His child. A baby. Another baby. It was a done deal. Cells dividing and multiplying. Way too late to go back and grab a rubber. He pulled the chair out from the table and sank into the seat. He didn’t want this. Absolutely, positively didn’t want another child. He couldn’t bear to love another child.