About the Baby

“So what do you want to do? Stay and talk to them or make a run for it?” She braced herself for the first answer—after all, Lucas didn’t know how to shirk responsibility. And though she was disappointed their little game would end, she was just pleased he’d played along with her this long. Lucas didn’t have enough fun in his life, and lately, neither had she.

She was so convinced that their little game of hide-and-seek was over that when he said, “Let’s make a run for it,” it took a few seconds for the words to register.

“Seriously?” she asked him after she managed to close her mouth.

He grinned. “Last one to the lobby is a rotten egg.”

CHAPTER TWO

KARADIDN’TANSWERHIS challenge right away, though Lucas did see her relax a little in relief. Instead, she crept forward to the edge of the bushes, one small step at a time. But the second she reached the pathway that circled around to the front of the hotel, she was off and running, sprinting down the trail to the hotel’s front door.

He was hot on her heels, could have beaten her easily—she was in four-inch stilettos, after all. But he was enjoying the view of her long legs and curvy ass in her short, tight red dress too much to rush ahead. She might be his best friend, and off-limits because of it, but he was still a man and it was a hell of a view. Besides, Kara was laughing, the melancholy exhaustion of earlier long gone, and he was definitely willing to finish second if it meant keeping the smile on her face.

“I won!” she exclaimed the second he turned the corner to the valet parking area.

“I noticed.”

“So what’s my prize?”

“A ride home?” he asked, fishing in his pocket for his valet ticket.

She made a disparaging sound. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

“It kind of is.”

“Careful, Lucas, you’re getting staid in your old age.”

“You are aware that we’re exactly the same age,” he reminded her, reaching out to yank on one of her flame-red curls.

She kicked off her shoes, scooped them up. “Yeah, but I’m not an old fuddy-duddy.”

“I’m not boring.” He knew she was just joking, but the accusation stung a little. It hit too close to home, he supposed. It was too similar to what his family told him regularly.

“I never said you were boring,” she said, snatching his keys out of his hand and dropping them into her red-beaded clutch. “But I figure we can do better than a ride home. That diner with the apple pie is just up the street. I say we go for it.”

She started walking and he found himself following along behind her. That apple pie did sound good—and maybe the chance to relax over dessert would get Kara talking. Because as much as he’d enjoyed being a part of her absurd little getaway, Kara was only ever this crazy when something was very wrong. Through the years, he’d learned there was an inverse correlation between the two. The more upset Kara was, the more lighthearted and silly she’d act. And while he was happy to go along for the ride, at some point she was going to run out of gas and he had every intention of being there for her when she did.

As they walked, Kara bombarded him with questions. How’s the clinic? How’s life? How’s your family? He let her get away with the inane small talk, though he knew it was more about keeping the focus on him and off herself than it was about stuff they’d already covered. But sometimes keeping the peace was more important than getting to the bottom of things right away. Life with a histrionic mother and two high-maintenance sisters had taught him that.

Besides, this was Kara. She’d never been able to keep a secret from him in her life and he had no intention of letting her do so now. If he didn’t push, she’d eventually loosen up and it would all come spilling out. And if it didn’t…well, then he’d push.

Still, though they’d walked together a million times—through the deserted midnight streets of downtown Atlanta as well as a hundred other places—something felt off tonight. Like there was something between them and they weren’t quite connecting, though the rhythm of their speech was as relaxed as always.

It made him uncomfortable. He hadn’t been able to count on much in his life—more often than not the clinic was one short budget cut away from extinction and since his father had died, he was the one his family turned to for just about everything. But Kara was different. She was the one person he could always count on to be there for him and to be straight with him. He couldn’t stand the idea that there was something she wasn’t sharing with him, something that was bothering her that she wasn’t letting him help with. He’d just made up his mind to ask her what was going on when she stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and looked up at the pocket of midnight sky that wasn’t blocked by buildings.

“It’s a beautiful night—not too hot or humid yet,” she said.

“Seriously?” he asked. “Now we’re going to talk about the weather?”

“Not really. I was just making conversation.” She never took her eyes from the sky, and finally he glanced up, too, trying to figure out what she found so interesting. But it was the same sky they always saw. “You can’t see any stars from here,” he finally told her. “The lights are too bright.”

She sighed. “I know. I kind of like that.”

“Since when? You’ve been into stargazing as long as I’ve known you. God knows, we did enough of it in college.”

“We did do a lot of it. I used to love driving out to the middle of nowhere with you, staring up at that infinite sky, bursting with possibilities.”

“So what’s changed?”

“Nothing.” She sighed. “Or everything. You know, in Somalia, the sky is so wide-open. It goes on for miles and miles. When I was there, looking at it and feeling completely insignificant, it occurred to me that there’s something comforting about only being able to see this little bit of sky. You know what I mean?”

No, he really didn’t. He found the whole concept behind her explanation pretty damned depressing, actually. Not to mention it sounded nothing like the take-life-by-the-tail adventurer he knew her to be.

Trying to think over the clang of warning bells going off in the back of his mind, he decided delicacy be damned. He was getting to the bottom of this. “You want to tell me what’s going on, Kara?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“You seem…troubled.”

She dropped her eyes back to his and smiled stiffly. “I told you, it’s the jet lag. I’m just a little off.”

If this was a little, he’d hate to see a lot. “Do you want to go home?”

“No!” she answered forcefully, panic flashing before she tamped it down. “The diner’s up ahead.”

“I’m not really in the mood for pie.”

“Now those are words I never thought I’d hear come out of your mouth.”

He wanted to shake her, to demand that she tell him what was going on in her head. He knew it wasn’t the way to get it out of her, but part of him didn’t care. She was hurting and it was his job to make it better. It had always been his job, with everyone in his life. Why couldn’t Kara understand that and just let him help?

Frustrated, he ran a hand through his hair before demanding, “Tell me, Kara. Whatever it is, spit it out.”

“Spit what out?” She looked confused, but under it all was a shade of panic that set off his own nerves.

“Are you sick?” he asked abruptly.

“What? No.”

“Were you hurt in Somalia?”

“Of course not. Why are you asking all these questions?”

“Because you’re not talking to me. I want to know what’s put that bruised look in your eyes. And don’t,” he said as she opened her mouth to protest, “pretend that you have no idea what I’m talking about. It will only piss me off.”

* * *

KARASTAREDAT LUCAS, words welling up on her tongue that she had no idea how to say. Not to him when he wouldn’t understand. He always knew what he was doing, always had a plan. And once he’d made that plan, he stuck to it. No matter what. How could he understand that she was suddenly, deathly afraid that she couldn’t stick to the life plan she’d made for herself? Or worse, that she’d made a mistake ever thinking it was right for her?