The Right Reason To Marry. Christine Rimmer

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The Right Reason To Marry - Christine Rimmer


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a starry night sky, an airplane sailing by the moon and tall evergreens standing sentinel off to one side, everything in grays, greens and silvers.

      “Northwest outdoorsy,” Liam said. “I like it a lot.”

      She rubbed her belly. The baby was riding really low and she’d had some contractions.

      He was watching her. “You okay?”

      “I’m fine. This baby is coming soon.”

      His eyes got bigger and he straightened from his easy slouch in the doorway. “As in now?”

      She waved a hand and chuckled, thinking that this visit was going pretty well and she was glad about that. “Relax. Probably not today.”

      “Whew.” He gazed at the mural again. “You paint that wall yourself?”

      “More or less. Stencils. You can’t beat ’em.”

      He shifted his gaze to her. He had a way of studying her, like he was memorizing the lines of her face. He used to do that months ago, sitting across from her at whatever bar they met up in, or later, naked in bed. One night, she’d teased that he should take a picture. He’d promptly grabbed his phone off the table by the bed and aimed it at her, snapping off two shots.

      She’d demanded he delete them, because who needs naked pictures of herself on a guy’s phone?

      He’d handed her the phone. She’d seen then that he’d only taken close-ups of her face. And when she glanced up at him, he gazed back at her so hopefully, like it would just be the greatest thing in the world, to have a couple of shots of her grinning, with total bedhead. She’d agreed he could keep the pictures—and then grabbed him close for a long, smoking-hot kiss.

      Liam was still watching her. “Have you chosen a name for this baby boy of ours?”

      “No, I have not. I kind of thought you might want input on his name.”

      Apparently, that was the right answer because he granted her a beautiful smile. “Thanks. I’ll be thinking about names. I’ll make up a list of ones I like. We can talk it over.” Solemnly, he added, “I read all about baby daddies. I don’t want to be that guy.”

      Her heart felt like someone was squeezing it. She hardly knew what to say. “You have other children?”

      “Huh?” He seemed horrified. “No! Wait. I get it. You mean ‘baby daddy’ as in a flaky guy who has kids by different women, but I wasn’t so much referring to the multiple baby mamas aspect. I meant a flaky guy, yeah. But in this case, a guy with only one baby, a guy who’s basically a sperm donor with minimal involvement—that’s what I don’t want to be. I want to be on board with this baby, available, helping out. I want to be there, you know? Tell me you know that.” He seemed so intense suddenly, as though it really bothered him that she might not understand his sincerity about pitching in.

      “Hey, really. It’s going to be okay, Liam.”

      “I hope so.”

      “It really is. I know I dropped the ball in a big way by not telling you what was going on sooner. I should’ve pushed past all the crap going on in my head and gotten in touch.”

      He watched her way too closely. “What crap, exactly?”

      Uh-uh. Not going there. “My point is, I promise you that we will work together. You don’t have to freak out.”

      “I’m not freaking out,” he said vehemently—and a bit freakily.

      Was this all going south suddenly?

      And just when they’d both seemed to be feeling more at ease around each other.

      She kind of wanted to cry, which was probably just hormones. But still. She really did want to get along with him. “Okay. You’re right. You’re not freaking out and I shouldn’t have even hinted that you were and I’m really, um...” Her already weak train of thought went right off the rails as she felt something shift inside her—a gentle shift, yet also a sudden one, a tiny pop of sensation deep within.

      And then something was dripping along the inside of her thighs.

      Frowning, she looked down, which was pointless. Her giant belly blocked her view and whatever was dripping down there, it was only a trickle. So far, her thigh-highs seemed to be absorbing it.

      “Okay,” said Liam. “Something’s happened. What?”

      She made herself look straight into his startled blue eyes and she put real effort into speaking calmly. “My water just broke. Would you mind driving me to Memorial Hospital?”

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