Beginning with Their Baby

“I realize that.” He studied her, with her wild black curls and bottomless gypsy eyes. He did know it—that was the kicker. But that didn’t mean he didn’t feel responsible. Hell, he was responsible.

“I just thought—” She blew out a breath, let her hand with its multicolored fingers rest on his. “I figured you should know.”

“Well.” He forced a smile. “Now I know.”

“Now you know.”

He reached into his pocket, pulled out his cell phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Texting Reece for the name and number of Sarah’s doctor. I want to get you in to see someone as soon as possible.”

“Why do tomorrow what you can do today, huh, Matt?”

He looked up from the message he was composing. “Why do today what you can put off until tomorrow, huh, Camille?”

She smiled at him, the first real smile he’d seen from her since she’d walked out his door all those weeks before. And just that easily, the knot in his stomach dissolved.

Everything was going to be fine. He’d get Camille to a doctor, get her set up in an apartment that had enough room—and light—for her to paint. After he’d checked with the doctor, of course, and made sure the fumes weren’t bad for the baby.

He’d take care of everything—like he always did. After all, how hard could caring for one pregnant woman be?

CHAPTER THREE

CAMILLE JERKED INTO a sitting position, her foggy brain struggling to figure out what had woken her when it felt like she had just drifted to sleep. After rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she glanced down at the clock on her bedside table and realized that she had only gotten two hours of sleep.

With a groan, she sank back under the covers and pulled her pillow over her ears—anything to get the incessant ringing to stop. A few moments later it did stop and she eased the pillow onto the bed beside her—only to scramble for it once the noise started up again.

What on earth was making—the motel phone. She squinted at the offending object, taking in the red message light blinking maniacally at the same time she reached the conclusion that her caller wasn’t going to just hang up and try again later. Besides, she’d been in town less than a day—only one person knew to call her here and he wasn’t known for his willingness to give up.

Fumbling for the phone, she dropped the receiver—twice—before managing to get it to her ear. “Hello.”

“It’s about time.” Matt’s voice came through the line, smooth and sexy and oh-so-efficient. It was more than enough to put her teeth on edge. “I was beginning to think you’d drowned in the shower.”

“I was asleep.”

“Well, get up. It’s nearly ten and we have an eleven o’clock appointment with an obstetrician.”

“What?” She struggled into a sitting position. “I told you I was pregnant twelve hours ago and you already have a doctor’s appointment?”

“You’re three months along—you need to be seen.”

“Yes, but—”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. We can talk in the car. The doctor’s office is across town and we need to get there early to fill out paperwork.”

He hung up before she could say another word. Camille slid the receiver back into its cradle and then flopped back onto the bed. Since when had Matt turned into a general marshalling his troops for battle—and how had she been enlisted as one of those troops anyway?

As she stared at the ceiling, she couldn’t figure out if she should be angry at his presumptuousness—and at the orders he’d barked at her—or just grateful that he’d handled the details of finding a doctor for her. At three months along, she knew she needed to be checked over—and soon—and she hadn’t been relishing the thought of combing the yellow pages for a doctor. Still, it rankled that Matt hadn’t even asked for her input….

Deciding to go along with his plans for now—she’d never been one to cut her nose off to spite her face—Camille threw back the covers and climbed out of bed. She stumbled to the bathroom, where a quick glance in the mirror showed she looked as bad as she felt. Maybe even worse.

The day was off to a fantastic start.

One quick shower, manic tooth brushing and hit-and-miss application of lip gloss and mascara later, she was feeling almost human. At least, until the knock on her door had her jumping in surprise and knocking her shin against the motel room’s sharp-cornered dresser.

Her eyes darted to the clock. Had it really been fifteen minutes—yes, it had. Fourteen, to be exact. Not that she was surprised. In the time they’d been together, Matt had never once been late. As she was always running fifteen minutes behind, she’d admired that about him…then.

Slipping into her robe, she yanked open the door with a snarl. “How’d you get an OB appointment on such short notice?”

“He’s a friend of mine. I knew him when I was at grad school.” His eyes swept over her from head to toe and his mouth tightened. “He did me a favor, which is why I don’t want to be late. Go get dressed.”

“If you’d given me more warning—”

“I’ve been calling, off and on, since I got off the phone with him at 8:30. It’s not my fault you sleep like the dead.”

“I’m jet-lagged.” She tossed the comment flippantly over her shoulder as she yanked a pair of jeans and a tank top out of the suitcase she had yet to unpack. No need for him to know that she’d spent the night staring at the television while thoughts of the future spun through her mind like a Tilt-A-Whirl at high speed.

“I know. And the articles I read last night said that pregnant women are always exhausted in the first few months—we’ll go to the doctor and then I’ll bring you back here to sleep.”

“Why, thank you, Daddy. I really appreciate it.” She sauntered into the bathroom, closed the door with a snap.

“Don’t go there,” he called through the door. “I’m not trying to order you around—I just want to make sure you and the baby are okay.”

His concern warmed her, even as it made her heart hiccup a little in her chest. She’d been prepared for anger, annoyance, dismay—but his concern was unexpected. Not to mention disconcerting. She got dressed quickly, then took a couple of minutes to primp in the mirror—not because she thought she could do anything about the too-thin face with the dark circles that stared back at her, but because she didn’t want Matt to think he could rush her. It set a bad precedent.

Only when her heartbeat was back to normal and she’d drawn her emotional armor around herself did she head back into the bedroom. “There better be coffee in that cup and it better be for me.”

“It is.” He held the large white-and-green cup out to her. “It’s decaf. The Web sites said that caffeine—”

“Is bad for the baby. I get it.” She took a sip of the fragrant brew and figured it was a sign of her willingness to play nice that she didn’t whimper at the lack of kick.

“Are you ready to go?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” She hunted around for sandals, found them in a tangle under the desk. “We need to stop at a bank, though. I need money.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He held the door open for her, waiting as she preceded him through. “Matt.”

“No charge for the first appointment—I told you he was a friend of mine.”

“What happened to Sarah’s obstetrician?”

“He retired. But Rick’s a better bet, anyway. He’s the best at what he does—even if his practice is on the other side of town.”

“And he’s really willing to see me for free?”

“Yes. I swear.”