Navy Baby

“We are?”

“Right,” he said, grinning at her, his look almost boyish. He seemed to enjoy teasing her, bringing up details that would embarrass her, possibly because he fancied seeing her blush. “Far be it for you to tell Junior how you were forced to cook on our wedding day.”

“Junior?” Funny, but she’d never given the sex of their baby any thought. The fact that he had, warmed her heart.

“We’ll call him that for now, unless you’d rather not.”

Her eyes met his, and for the first time that day she felt like smiling. “I don’t mind, although I think you should be prepared for a juniorette.”

“Boy or girl, it doesn’t matter to me. A baby is a baby.”

His matter-of-fact attitude stole a little of her good cheer, but she didn’t let it show.

“It’s ladies’ choice tonight. What’s your pleasure?”

Hannah hesitated. She’d been craving seafood for weeks, but it was expensive and she didn’t want him to think she was extravagant. “Any place would be fine.”

“Not with me. It isn’t every day a man gets married. How would you feel about a seafood buffet? It’s a bit of a drive, but there’s a wonderful restaurant on Hood Canal that serves fabulous lobster.”

“Lobster?” Hannah’s eyes rounded with pleasure.

“And shrimp. And oysters and scallops.”

“Oh, stop,” she said with a laugh. “It sounds too good to be true.” This man had the most incredible knack of reading her mind.

He reached for her hand, and grinning, he led her out the front door and down the stairs to where his red CRX was parked. The drive took the better part of an hour, but once they arrived and were seated, Hannah realized it had been well worth the effort. The smells were incredible. The scent of warm bread mingled with garlic and freshly fried oysters.

Hannah piled her plate high with steamed clams and hot bread. As soon as she was finished, she returned for a slice of grilled salmon and barbecued shrimp, balancing a cup of thick clam chowder on the edge of her plate. The waitress came by with a glass of milk, which Riley had apparently ordered for her. She was pleased to note that he chose coffee for himself.

“This is wonderful,” she exclaimed, after returning to the buffet table for the third time. She took a sampling of finger lobster and some oysters.

Riley was openly staring at her.

“Is something wrong?” she questioned, after adjusting the napkin on her lap.

“I would never have guessed one person could eat so much.”

Hannah gazed at her plate. “I’ve made a glutton of myself, haven’t I?” She rebounded quickly and smiled up at him. “You have to remember, I’m eating for two.”

“You’re eating as if you’re expecting triplets,” he teased, but the way his mouth lifted up at the corners told her he was pleased.

Breaking off a piece of bread, Hannah reached for the butter. “Is there anyone you want to tell about the wedding?” she asked conversationally.

“Who do you mean?” Her question appeared to displease him.

“Family,” she said, not understanding his mood.

“I don’t have any family.”

“None?” It seemed incomprehensible to Hannah, who was so close to her own.

“My father ran off when I was eight, and my mother…Well, let’s put it this way: she wasn’t much interested in being a mother. I haven’t had any contact with her in years.”

Hannah set the bread aside. “I’m sorry, Riley. I had no idea…I didn’t mean to bring up unhappy memories.”

“You didn’t. It’s in the past and best forgotten.”

“How’d you end up in the Navy?”

He seemed to find her query amusing. “How else? I enlisted.”

“I see.” It had been a stupid question, and she grew silent afterward.

They left the restaurant a few minutes later. A full stomach and the warm blast of air from the heater lulled her into a light sleep. She was only mildly aware of Riley turning on the car radio, switching stations until he found one that specialized in Easy Listening.

Hannah woke when he stopped the engine. It took her a second to realize her head was resting against his shoulder. She straightened abruptly as though she’d been caught doing something wrong. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize—”

“Don’t be,” he said brusquely, as though she’d displeased him far more by offering an apology than using his shoulder as a support.

He came around and helped her out of the car and cupped his hand under her elbow as they walked up the flight of concrete steps to his apartment.

Once they reached the top, Riley unlocked the door. Shoving it open, he turned to Hannah and without a word calmly lifted her into his arms.

Taken by surprise, she let out a small cry of alarm. “Riley,” she pleaded, “put me down. I’m too heavy.”

“Let me assure you, Hannah Murdock, you weigh next to nothing.” With that he ceremoniously carried her over the threshold, gently depositing her in the leather recliner.

Hannah smiled at him, a little breathlessly, although he’d been the one to do all the work. This man was full of surprises. All week she’d been convinced she was marrying a monster, but Riley had gone out of his way to prove otherwise. Perhaps this marriage had a chance to survive, after all.

Riley turned on the television and reached for the evening paper and, after a few minutes, Hannah excused herself and began unpacking a few of her things. Since they would be moving within a matter of days, she only removed items she’d be needing.

Since Riley seemed wrapped up in something on television, she decided to bathe. The water was warm and soothing, and as she rested her head against the back of the tub, she traced her index finger over her stomach. There was no evidence her body was nurturing a child—at least not yet—but she hadn’t reached the fourth month of her pregnancy. The doctor had told her to expect to feel movement at any time, and the prospect thrilled her.

When she’d finished, she dressed in a thick flannel gown and brushed her hair away from her face. Riley was still in the living room, sitting on the edge of his cushion, punching his arms back and forth. She noticed he was watching a boxing match, and she cringed inwardly.

He must have noticed her, because he reached for the television control and turned down the volume. His eyes widened as he assessed her.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, glancing down at herself.

“You normally wear that to bed?”

“Yes.” He made it sound as if she’d donned sackcloth and ashes.

He nodded and punched the control, turning up the volume. “Then my guess is Junior will be an only child.”

Hannah bristled; then, not knowing what else to do, sat down and tucked her feet under her. The fight taking place on the television screen was violent, with two boxers slugging it out as though they had every intention of badly maiming each other. Hannah winced and closed her eyes several times.

“Why would anyone fight like that?” she asked during a commercial break.