SARAH STORMED into the baby’s room, where she laid Rose in her crib then promptly burst into tears. After turning on Rose’s pink star mobile, so she’d have something to look at, Sarah sank to the floor, laid her head on her knees and sobbed like her heart was breaking all over again.
What was wrong with her? She’d sworn that she wouldn’t do this. Had promised herself that she would encourage it when Reece took an interest in Rose. Had told herself she understood his pain. Understood why it had taken him so long to come around. Understood that he couldn’t face the baby without facing everything that he’d lost.
She’d told herself all of that, had even believed it—until she had opened her front door to him. Rage had swept through her—rage like nothing she’d ever felt before, even when she’d found out Vanessa was dead. Not even having her husband leave her with two babies and almost no explanation had brought on this bone-deep fury.
How dare Reece show up like it hadn’t been months since she’d last heard from him? How dare he throw money at her like that made his disinterest better? She’d needed him these past few months. Over and over again, she’d reached out to him for help, for company, for someone to share part of this burden with. And he had rebuffed her every single time.
It wasn’t fair. She’d agreed to have this baby for Vanessa—and for Reece. Had agreed to be artificially inseminated, to become pregnant again so that she could give her best friend the baby Vanessa couldn’t have. But Sarah hadn’t signed on to go through the pregnancy alone. She hadn’t signed on to juggle three children and a thriving Web-design business all on her own.
And she sure as hell hadn’t thought that her entire life would change when this baby was born. From the moment she’d gotten pregnant, she’d thought of the baby as Vanessa’s. That was the only way she could bring herself to give the newborn up. Even after Van died, she’d told herself that this was her best friend’s baby. Reece’s baby.
And when Vanessa Rose was born—named after her mother and grandmother—Sarah had distanced herself, sure that Reece would step up to the plate once he got himself together.
But days then weeks had passed and the only contact she’d had from Reece were those damned checks. She’d stopped calling him after Rose was four weeks old and by the time the baby was a month and a half old, she’d thought of Rose as hers. Not Reece’s. Not even Vanessa’s. But hers and Johnny’s and Justin’s.
The boys felt the same way. Though Rose annoyed them—a lot—she wasn’t “the baby” any longer. No, Johnny called her “my baby” or “our baby” and Justin told Sarah how much he loved having a baby sister. Sarah had opened her heart to this baby that was never meant to be hers. Had lulled herself into believing that Reece had written Rose off except for the money.
Reece’s presence threatened their family unit, disrupted the bonds the four of them had formed. Reece and his criticisms reminded Sarah of the precarious position she was in. Rose didn’t belong to Sarah and Johnny and Justin. Rose belonged to Reece. And at any moment he could snatch her away. Sarah knew her strength—honed from surviving the departures of a fair share of loved ones from her life—but she honestly doubted her ability to cope if Reece took Rose.
And why else would he have shown up here today, if not to claim his daughter? He’d probably woken up from his grief long enough to recognize Rose was the last link he had to Vanessa. So now he’d step in to be Rose’s daddy with no thought to the impact that action would have on Sarah and her boys. Why couldn’t Reece have stayed asleep and stayed away?
“Sarah?” Reece’s voice sounded from the other side of the door. “Sarah, can I come in?”
The doorknob started to turn and she scrambled to slam the door in his face. “Not yet,” she said, striving for a normal tone through the huskiness. “Give me a minute.”
Wiping her hands across her eyes, over her nose, she struggled to make herself presentable. There was no way she could disguise the fact that she’d been crying, but she’d be damned if she greeted Reece with tears streaming down her face. She was stronger than that.
When she finally opened the door, her emotions were completely in hand. She even managed a brief smile. “I need to check on the boys.”
“I just did.” The smile he offered was tentative, barely present and nothing like the smiles Reece used to give her—before Vanessa’s death. Those had been bright, excited, and so full of life she’d often wondered how his body could contain the joy he had for living.
“They’re playing superheroes in their room.”
Sarah glanced in the crib, and saw that her beautiful baby girl slept. “Come on, we can talk downstairs.”
As she walked down the stairs, her behavior was wearing on her. How could she have talked to Reece—Reece, of all people—like that? He was the one person in the world who had loved Vanessa as much as she had. How could she blame him, then, if he loved her so much that he couldn’t cope with anything after the accident?
There were no two ways around it—she owed the man an apology. And if it stuck in her craw, well then, that was too bad. She’d gotten herself into the mess by agreeing to be a surrogate mother to Vanessa and Reece’s child. Now she would simply have to put on her big girl panties and deal with the fallout of a situation none of them had ever anticipated.
“Sarah.” Reece stopped in the middle of the living room. “I’m so sor—”
“Please don’t apologize. I’m the one who lost it.” She gestured to the sofa while she took a seat in the green-striped wingback chair Van had helped her pick out when she and Michael had first bought the house. It was as close as Sarah could get to an apology.
“I never intended for this to happen.” His brown eyes were tortured when they met hers, the pain of losing his wife still fresh in them, despite the time that had passed. She recognized it, because her own pain was almost as fresh.
“Nobody thought Vanessa would die, Reece. It just happened.”
“That’s not what I meant.” He shoved a hand through his hair as he stood to pace from one end of the room to the other. “At the funeral, I told myself all I needed was a little time. Some space to come to grips with losing Vanessa like that.”
“I know—”
“No, you don’t.” The look he shot her was intense and full of self-loathing. “I was sure a few weeks would do it. But then two months passed, three. I picked up the phone to call you so many times, but there was nothing to say. Vanessa was what we’d always had in common and she was gone. I couldn’t imagine bringing a baby into the world without her.
“So I let more time pass, told myself I’d face it when you went into labor. Let myself believe that I’d step up and do what I had to do once the baby was born. And then that day arrived.”
He stopped in front of her, crouched next to her chair so they were at eye level. “I grabbed my coat, headed for the door, told myself I was ready to be a father. But that was a lie. I was nowhere near ready and all I could think about was that Vanessa should be with me. We should be going to the hospital together. We should be doing all of this together.
“I dropped my coat and keys on the floor, curled up on my couch and cried like a baby. When I woke up there was a message from you telling me I had a daughter. And I still couldn’t make myself leave the room, still couldn’t talk myself into going to the hospital. I couldn’t pick up the baby—Vanessa’s baby—and bring her home. Not without my wife.”
Sarah swallowed against the lump in her throat as each word he spoke punched another little hole in her already leaky soul. He was in as bad shape as she was—worse, really.
Once again she asked herself how she could hold that against him. The answer was clear—she couldn’t. And somehow, if he was ready to take Rose—her heart broke at the thought—she would find the strength to let the baby go and pretend it wasn’t killing her.
He laid a hand on top of hers, which she’d tightly folded in her lap. “I am sorry, Sarah. I know these past few months must have been hell for you. I was a selfish bastard to let you go through them alone.”
She shrugged, suddenly unable to berate him when he was doing such a good job of beating himself up. “It’s done, Reece. We just have to find a way to go on from here.”
“Do you think that’s possible?” he asked.
“I don’t think we’ve got a choice. You have a daughter who needs you and I—” Her voice broke despite her determination to keep it steady. “I have two sons who need their mother.”
“And a daughter.”
“What?” His words didn’t make sense in the context of her grand, self-sacrificing speech.
“You have a daughter who needs you, too, Sarah.”
Once more she had to swallow against the tightness in her throat. “Rose is yours, Reece. Yours and Vanessa’s.”
“And yours, Sarah.” He lifted her hand, brought it to his lips. “She’s yours most of all.”
Reece watched as Sarah struggled to maintain her composure. A sick feeling rose up inside of him. “Did you think I’d come to take her from you? Is that what has you so upset?”
“I’d always planned on giving her to you and Vanessa, Reece. Even after Van died, I told myself Rose wasn’t mine to keep—”
“Yet you’re the only one who stuck by her through all of this. Do you really think I could forget that? You loved my daughter when I wasn’t able to. What kind of a man would I be if I repaid that by ripping her away from the only mother she’s ever known?”
She shook her head as she stared at him. “I don’t understand. Where does that leave us?”
He said aloud the words he’d dreaded for the repercussion they’d have on his life. There was no going back, no retracting the commitment. His life was forever tied to this woman who fascinated him despite his best intentions otherwise. “Together, Sarah. All the rest are just details to be worked out. We’re in this together now and I won’t let you or Rose down ever again. I swear it.”
* * *
IT WAS LATE the next afternoon before Reece had things arranged to his satisfaction at work. Sarah needed help and as the father of her child, he was the obvious choice. He couldn’t leave the job completely—after all, there were bills to pay—but he could cut down on his hours and occasionally work from either his or Sarah’s home.
It was time—past time—that he became a father to his daughter. The fact that he broke out in a cold sweat every time he so much as thought about Rose was of no consequence whatsoever.
And the fact that he hadn’t been able to hold her yesterday—in truth, had barely been able to look at her—didn’t matter, either. She was his responsibility and he would find a way to meet that, even if it killed him. He’d left Sarah and Rose on their own for too long.
“Hey, Reece, you got a minute?” He looked up to find Matt Jenkins, his partner for the past eight years, leaning against the doorjamb of Reece’s office. With his faded jeans, tennis shoes and football jersey, Matt looked more like a college kid than an award-winning architect.
“Yeah, sure.” Reece pushed aside the drawings he was working on, reached beneath the light table to turn it off.
“No, leave it on,” Matt crossed the room in two long strides, his floppy red hair falling over one eye. “Is this the design for the Harbor account?”
Reece ran a hand over his tired eyes. He hadn’t slept at all last night, his mind too full of his daughter, and Sarah, to allow him to drift into even the most uneasy of sleeps. He had no desire to discuss the intricacies of his newest building, not when all he really wanted was a bed and eight hours of sleep.
“Yo, earth to Reece.”
“What?” Reece lowered his hands in time to see Matt staring at him with concern.
“Is this the Harbor account?”
“Yeah, it’s coming together nicely.”
Matt leaned over the light board. “How much do you have left to do?”
“I’ve got four sets of plans complete—including the outside design. They approved that this morning, so right now I’m working on the drawings for electric and plumbing.”
Matt whistled, low and long. “I can’t believe how fast this design has come together.”
Reece snorted. “Yeah, well, when you’ve got no life it makes it easier to devote more time to work.”
“That’s why I stopped by. You want to go grab a beer, watch the game?”
“Game?”
His partner shook his head, even as he gestured to the jersey he had on. “The Cowboys, man. They’re playing tonight.”
“I can’t.”
“Reece—”
“Give it up, Matt.” His voice was harsher than he’d intended, but all the emotions and uncertainties of the past few days welled up inside of him. “You need to figure out that I’m okay with not having a life right now.”
“That’s all going to change, though, isn’t it, man? You’re getting back on course, taking custody of your baby—”
“I didn’t say I was taking custody of Rose.”
Matt’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “I thought that’s what this whole work from home and cut down on the hours was supposed to be about?”
“It is. Sort of. I mean…”
“Hey, Reece, nobody blames you if you can’t deal yet. This whole thing was Vanessa’s idea, wasn’t it? You weren’t even sure you were ready for a baby when she was obsessing about it. And she’s gone now, so why should you have to take responsibility for a kid you never really wanted?”
“Because she’s mine. Because I helped create her, knowingly and willingly, and I can’t walk away from that responsibility. I mean, look at Sarah. She agreed to the pregnancy with the understanding that as soon as the baby was born, she would be Vanessa’s and mine. Instead, Sarah’s been stuck caring for the baby for almost three months. Alone.”
“That’s what I’m saying. Maybe there’s a reason for that. She’s already a mom—”
“She’s struggling, Matt. Seriously struggling. Are you suggesting I abandon her? I’ve been down that road and it hasn’t worked out very well for either one of us.”
“No, of course not. But why not think about adoption? She’s already got two kids to handle on her own, you don’t have a wife to take care of this baby. Maybe it’ll be the best thing for both of you.”
“No!” Outrage tinted everything with a red haze. “Rose is mine. I’m not giving her up to some stranger to raise.”
“Whoa, sorry.” Matt put his hands up, backed away. “I wasn’t trying to cause problems. I just thought, since you were so conflicted about this whole thing—you and Sarah both—maybe it would be better for the kid to, you know, go to a family with a mom and dad who really wanted her and could devote the necessary time to raising her. I had no idea you felt so strongly about her.”
“I don’t. It’s—” Reece stopped talking at the knowing look Matt shot him.
“No offense, bro. But for your sake and the sake of that little girl, I think you’d better figure out exactly what it is that you do feel—and what you want to do about it. You’re moving in with her mom. You can say it’s going to be totally platonic as often as you want, but you’ll be sharing a house. Sharing a baby. Sharing everything. There are bound to be some issues.”
“What kind of issues?” Reece asked, determined to play dumb and not admit his best friend had verbalized his deepest fear—and the source of more guilt than he wanted to think about.
Matt rolled his eyes, before shrugging into his prized Cowboys jacket. “Sexual issues, man. You’re living in a house with a beautiful woman—”
“It’s not like that.” Surely that wasn’t admiration for Sarah in Matt’s voice?
Matt eyed him silently before saying in a subdued voice, “Isn’t it?”
Reece flushed, felt his ears begin to burn. “Of course not. I just want to take care of Rose—”
“The two aren’t mutually exclusive, you know.”
“Sarah doesn’t think of me like that. There’s no way—What?”
“You said Sarah wasn’t interested. You never said anything about yourself.”
“My wife just died, man.”
“I know that.” Matt laid a bracing hand on his shoulder. “Which makes you doubly vulnerable right now—to Sarah and to Rose. Give a good, hard think about what you’re doing here.”
“I’m doing what’s best for my daughter—and her mother.”
“Yeah. But is it what’s also best for you? I just don’t want to see you get hurt. Or hurt Sarah.”
Reece snorted. “Says the guy whose longest running relationship lasted all of five weeks.”
Matt grinned, before heading for the door, “Which is why I know exactly what I’m talking about. So take my advice—” his expression turned serious “—and be careful.”
* * *
HOURS LATER, Reece was still thinking about his friend’s advice as he sat in his living room and half watched the Cowboys game Matt had been talking about. What did he want—besides helping Sarah out?
Matt’s fears were groundless. Reece knew he and Sarah would never end up falling for each other. Despite the little sizzle he got whenever he saw her, Sarah was Vanessa’s best friend and completely off-limits to him. And he knew she felt the same way. Their only connection would be Rose. Somehow he had to make amends for forcing Sarah to be the baby’s sole caregiver.
He took a swig of his lukewarm beer. Hell, maybe Matt was right about the adoption thing. Maybe Reece should talk to Sarah about giving up Rose. He had no idea how to raise a baby, and she already had her hands more than full with the boys and her business. Logically, it made sense.
But everything inside of him rejected that course of action. She was Vanessa’s daughter. Maybe not biologically, but in spirit she had been Vanessa’s from the moment of her conception. Earlier, really.
He tried to ignore the pain as he’d been doing these past months. But tonight it wouldn’t be denied. He reached behind him, picked up a picture of Van he had taken a few years ago. They’d been in Hawaii and had just finished windsurfing. She’d been tanned and happy and so beautiful he hadn’t been able to resist snapping the picture. He’d also been the one to frame it and set it on the sofa table when they’d moved into this house.
He set the photo aside unable to bear looking at it—at her. Doubling over in an effort to fight the agony, he lost his grip on the beer bottle and the glass shattered as soon as it hit the hardwood floor.
Shattered, like his marriage to Vanessa. Destroyed, like him without his wife. How had he gotten here? He waited for the familiar—and blessed—numbness to set in, but it wouldn’t come. How had he gone from being on top of the world to having everything in his life turn to shit?
It was ironic really. Would be funny if it wasn’t so terrible. His whole life he’d been afraid of failing, afraid of screwing up like his older brother had. His parents had spent years trying to get Brad on track, but nothing worked. So, instead of continuing to work with him, they’d written him off and turned all their hopes and dreams—all their attention—to Reece.
And he had never let them down. Had been afraid of what his failures would do to them after all the drugs and suspensions and misery they’d lived through from his brother. To compensate, Reece had been the golden boy. Good student, good athlete who grew up to have a good career and a good marriage. Everything they’d asked of him he’d done. Anything to avoid being the subject of his father’s bitterness, of those angry, hurtful words.
And where had that effort gotten him? Sitting alone in his living room, drowning his sorrows and trying to figure out which way was up. The hell of it was, he had zero motivation to even try to make sense of his life, his future. It had taken every reserve he had to do right by Sarah…and Rose. If he had his choice, he’d crawl away somewhere and never come out again.
But he couldn’t do that. Not him, not Reece Sandler. His father’s most recent lecture echoed in his head. Dropping out of society wasn’t an option. Hiding wasn’t an option. Reece had to keep going. Keep moving forward. Things would get better. They always did.
He cursed viciously. He had no idea how to make things better—not when he’d created such a colossal screw-up. With Vanessa, with Sarah, with Rose.
Rose. Before he could block it, an image of his daughter’s little hands followed by images of her in Sarah’s arms flashed into his head. She was beautiful, perfect—an interesting combination of him and Sarah. Strange that he’d never considered what she would look like, had never imagined parts of himself or Sarah on this baby. Rose had always been Vanessa’s baby.
But Vanessa was dead. Rose would never know her, would never hear the voice or see the face of the woman who had set in motion the plan for Rose’s very existence.
It was that thought, more than any other, that made up his mind for him. He owed it to his wife. Things might have been rocky the last few months of Vanessa’s life—her unreasonable obsession with having a baby overshadowing all else—but that wasn’t Rose’s fault. Nor was it Sarah’s.
As he bent to pick up the pieces of the shattered bottle, he knew for certain there would be no talk of adoption. He and Vanessa had made a commitment when they’d decided to have a child—to Sarah, to the baby, to themselves. And if he was afraid of screwing up at fatherhood, afraid of turning out like his old man, then he’d keep it to himself.
He’d honor the commitment they had made. Even if it destroyed him.