The Trick To Getting A Mom

“Stop, dammit.” His dark eyes burned into her. “Why are you running?”

Her heart raced in a rhythm all out of proportion to her brief sprint. Sean did her in with his smoldering eyes and push-me-pull-me looks. His yearning tinged with anger.

“Why aren’t you inside with your family?” she demanded.

He held her arm as if he had every right to touch her. He didn’t. Kit had fiercely guarded her right to tell a man when he could and when he could not touch her.

“Let me go,” she growled.

He threw his hands in the air and took a step backward. “Not everyone in the world is the enemy, Kit.”

“Tell that to your sister.”

“She acted like a jerk. I apologize for her behavior.”

“You owe me nothing.”

“Ah, Kit….” A look of pain suffused his rugged features. “For a long time I’ve owed you an apology.”

It was her turn to take a step backward.

“Back in school—”

She held up her hand to ward off what she realized was coming.

“In school,” he continued, undeterred, “I asked you out, then stood you up.” His words seemed scraped and raw. “I’m sorry.”

She couldn’t believe he’d brought that old hurt into the open.

“Why did you stand me up?” She pulled herself ramrod straight, prepared herself for his macho defense. Or, at the most, the admission of teenage stupidity. Peer pressure. Folding to a dare. “Why?”

“Jilian…” He cleared his throat. Clenched and unclenched his hands. “Jilian told me she was pregnant. With Alex.” His words sounded forced. “I wasn’t thinking about anything or anyone else. We were married right after you left town.”

Dumbfounded by this unexpected confession, Kit felt a stab of empathy for his wife. The gossips must’ve had a field day. “How would Jilian feel if she knew you were telling me this?”

In the light of the parking lot lamps, Sean’s face appeared drained of all color. “Jilian’s been dead six years. Car accident.”

Kit didn’t know what to say. She’d been prepared to stand up to him if he’d apologized for being a jerk. But this halting admission was too filled with pain.

“You didn’t have to tell me all this.”

“I did.” He glowered at her as if he hadn’t wanted to tell her anything. “Because you shouldn’t think I wasn’t attracted to you. Then.”

He said then, but his eyes said now. She’d seen desire in men’s eyes before. Lust. Crude and controlling. The look in Sean’s eyes was different, tinged with vulnerability. Telling her the truth had cost him.

Unaccountably, tears stung her eyes.

“Kit…” He moved to draw her to him, kiss her maybe. She couldn’t quite tell. His tenderness and unguarded yearning made her wild. She could have handled his scorn. Or his pity. But not this sensitivity.

Drawing back, she slapped his face with all her might. As much to punish him for arousing her deeply guarded feelings now as for his inadvertent cruelty all those years ago.

CHAPTER FOUR

HIS CHEEK STILL SMARTING from Kit’s slap, Sean stepped out of the hospital elevator and into a McCabe celebration. With all the goings-on, surely his bruised ego would go unnoticed.

Pop and Jonas had arrived in the maternity floor waiting room and Brad was passing out cigars, both real and chocolate. The kids were wild from junk food, missed bedtimes and the adults’ high spirits.

“Once he decided to come, there was no stopping him!” Brad exclaimed, his chest puffed out. “And he’s a keeper, all right. Eric Aaron McCabe. Seven pounds, eleven ounces and eighteen inches of squalling testosterone.”

Jonas clapped Brad on the back.

“He’s right. I just saw him. And Emily looks great, too.”

Mariah appeared around a corner. “I’ll call Nick and Chessie,” she said. “They’d better move back home quick before the selectmen declare Pritchard’s Neck has its quota of McCabes.”

“Hush, girl.” Pop gave his only daughter a loving glance that belied his gruff reprimand. “There could never be enough of you to suit me.” Penn had fathered five children. Now he counted on those offspring to build his dynasty.

A nurse appeared, and Sean recognized her as one of Pop’s poker pals. “Visiting hours are over, and you need to let the new mom rest. But, if you can control yourselves, I’ll bend the rules just the tiniest bit and let you take a peek at the new family member…who’d better have a good set of pipes to be heard over the lot of you.”

“Ah, Adele,” Pop crooned, affecting an Irish brogue. “I’ve a soft spot in me heart for a lass in uniform. Can I buy you a cuppa when your shift is done?”

Adele leveled Pop with a flinty glare. “You can pay your poker debts, Penn, and I’ll call us even.”

Her retort shut the older man up momentarily.

“Now,” Adele continued, “if you can hold on for just a few more minutes, we’ll have your baby ready for viewing in the nursery. But first, Emily would like to speak to you, Sean.”

“Me?”

“You sure she wasn’t asking for the proud grandpa?” Pop asked, feigning insult.

“I think I know the difference between you and your sons,” Adele replied. “I’ll be back for the rest of you when the baby’s ready.” She squinted at the assembled clan. “And try to keep your conversation to a dull roar.”

With that, she set off down the corridor at a brisk clip, Sean in her wake.

“Did Emily say why she wanted to see me?” he asked.

“You can ask her yourself.” The nurse stopped outside one of the rooms. “She’s in here.”

Emily was sitting up in bed when Sean came in, holding the baby and looking radiant.

“Do you want to hold your nephew?” she asked.

“You bet.”

Sean took the tiny bundle and stared down in wonder at the newest family member. “Hey, I’m your Uncle Sean.” The baby yawned, unimpressed. “He’s a handsome dude, Em.”

“Thank you. We think so.” Emily shifted her pillow, cleared her throat. “Would you like to have more children?”