Beginning with Their Baby

“Keep dreaming, Camille. And tell me where you are.”

She rattled off the name of the motel, along with its cross streets, her heart pounding like a rock song.

“What room?”

“Two-thirteen.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Don’t go anywhere.”

He clicked off and she was left staring at a dead phone. And wishing that the next hour was already over. Anything was better than the sick curl of anticipation working its way through her pregnancy-churned stomach.

MATT POUNDED UP THE STAIRS that led to Camille’s motel room, his heart in his throat and his blood pressure through the roof.

Pregnant. Camille was pregnant. With his child.

Just the thought boggled the brain.

He’d used a condom, hadn’t he? Every time? Then how was she— He yanked his thoughts back to the present, but it wasn’t easy. Nothing had been from the moment he’d opened his door and seen Camille standing there.

He didn’t even know what he’d said to get rid of Ariane. After Camille had driven away, he’d stood on the sidewalk looking after her car for God only knew how long as he tried to assimilate her words. He hadn’t succeeded.

Finally, a less than happy Ariane had come outside looking for him. She’d wanted to pick the date up where they’d left off, before Camille’s interruption, but he’d been too shocked to do more than utter the most banal of excuses as he showed her the door.

She hadn’t been impressed, but he hadn’t cared. He still didn’t care, as all his thoughts and energy were currently wrapped up in Camille’s bombshell.

Pregnant.

Camille was pregnant.

He kept hoping that repeating the words would make them seem more real—and him less clueless. But the truth was he didn’t even know where to start trying to figure this mess out.

When he got to room 213, he pounded on the door hard enough to let Camille know he wasn’t taking no for an answer. How she’d thought he’d want to wait until tomorrow to talk to her, he’d never know. But then again, he’d never been able to figure out what was going on in Camille’s brain. Case in point—the whole debacle three months ago when he’d begged her to stay. And she’d batted him away as if he were a pesky gnat.

Then Camille’s door was swinging open and any and all confused thoughts he’d been able to form between his house and here completely flew out of his head. Not that it was anything new—his first glimpse of her, even when they’d been dating, had always done that to him.

There was just something about her that knocked him stupid.

Trying to buy himself a few seconds, he glanced at the half-eaten container of ice cream in her hand, cataloged the lines of strain around her eyes and mouth.

“You look tired,” he finally said.

“I’m jet-lagged. I just got in from Italy today.”

“How long have you known?”

“About the baby?”

He nodded.

“Five days.”

Something cold melted in his chest. She’d just found out she was pregnant and had come straight back to Austin to tell him about the baby. At least she hadn’t been keeping it from him.

At least she’d been willing to trust him that much.

“Okay.” He glanced behind her, to her empty motel room. The television murmured quietly in the background. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, sure.” She turned away, leaving him to follow.

When she sank onto the bed, he had a moment’s indecision. Should he sit next to her? Stand? For a man who always knew where he was going and what he was doing, it was a less than impressive feeling.

He glanced around. It was a typical motel room—a bed, a table and chair, a dresser. He crossed the worn beige carpet, pulled out the chair and sat down. He didn’t trust himself to get too close to her—the room smelled like her and he could feel his body responding, despite the numerous warnings he’d given himself on the way over.

Judging from the look on Camille’s face, he figured anything she viewed as an advance on his part would be met with solid resistance. Not to mention a kick in the ass.

Not that he wanted to put the moves on her, he assured himself and his unruly erection. He’d given up on that stupidity a few weeks before, when he’d finally figured out that she wasn’t going to come back. He’d resigned himself, then, to the fact that he would never be with her again.

Too bad his body didn’t feel the same way.

Silence seethed between them. With each second that passed he could see Camille getting more agitated, her eyes darting between him, the TV and the Ben & Jerry’s container in a pattern that would have been funny if he wasn’t so damned strung out himself.

Maybe he should have mercy on her—she looked as shell-shocked as he felt. But as he watched her, Matt realized he was still too raw to feel very merciful. Her abandonment had really done a number on him—more so than he’d ever expected.

So, instead of breaking the uncomfortable quiet, he just watched and waited. Finally, when her spoon scraped the bottom of the ice cream container—and she had nothing else to hold her attention—she murmured softly, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your date.”

Who was this woman and what had she done with the Camille he’d known? That Camille had never apologized once in the time they were together. So what had changed?

The difference made him uncomfortable, as if the ground beneath him was shifting with each step he took. Because of it, his voice was harsher than he’d intended when he asked, “You think my date was more important than talking to the mother of my child? What the hell do you think of me?”

“I didn’t mean that.” She shoved up from the bed, then tossed the empty ice cream container in the trash before crossing to him. There was a shadow of anger in her own eyes and he couldn’t help being relieved. This was the Camille he knew—fiery and strong. He preferred her to the cold, fragile woman who’d opened the motel-room door.

“So what did you mean?”

“I know this is a shock—and my timing couldn’t have been worse.”

“It’s no big deal. Ariane understood.”

“Good.”

The silence was back, yawning between them like an underground cavern waiting to be explored. This time, he was the first to break it.

“So what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to keep it.”

“You said that earlier. I meant, what are you going to do when the baby comes?”

“I don’t know. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the idea that there is a baby.”