MICHAEL PUT THE phone down after his fourth call of the morning. He’d bathed, changed his dressing, dressed in jeans and a shirt. His leather jacket was slung over a chair. He’d drunk a plungerful of strong coffee and for the first time in days felt half human.
Only half. The scene this morning in bed with Stephanie still had to be resolved. But he was working on that.
That look of despair and hurt she’d tried to hide had pierced him deep.
Last night she’d told him she was doing something about where she lived, meaning she was moving forward, wasn’t letting the past hold her back. Throughout the night as he’d made love with her, held as she slept, as he’d breathed in honey, felt need deep in his stomach, he’d known excitement. And relief. Excitement and relief that she was staying—wasn’t rushing away, looking for everything she already had here in her home city.
And he wanted the same. With her. If she was prepared to start over then he had to step up to the mark and be as courageous. Take a risk with his heart. Yes, well... That wouldn’t be easy. But after three days with her in his house he knew he had to try. Three days and he was ready to admit he wanted for ever. If she’d give him a third chance. It was a lot to ask—especially when he hadn’t done anything to show how much he meant it. He needed to take risks, stop hiding behind Chantelle and Aaron.
Yes, Steph, you’re right. I do use them to protect myself from letting anyone else close enough to hurt me. My sisters can cause me grief, but they’ll never leave me for ever.
‘Sorry, Zac, my boy, but you’re going to be tied up for the next few hours. There are things I have to do.’ For Steph, me, and the future.
Thump, thump of his tail on the tiles.
‘No, I’m not taking you for a walk. I’m going out. Alone.’
Not quite alone. He was having lunch with Chantelle and Aaron at a family-friendly restaurant where the wee guy could play amongst the bouncy balls. He was going to have a long overdue talk with his sister. It wouldn’t be easy, but it had to be done.
Toot-toot.
The taxi was in his drive. ‘That’s my cue, Zac.’
The dog followed him outside to the garden shed to be tied up.
‘See you soon. Cross your paws for me to get this sorted out right.’
At the restaurant Aaron charged him, but he was ready, his crutches put aside so he could swing the little guy up in his arms. ‘Hey, man! You going to eat chicken and chips for lunch?’
‘Yes, Uncle Mike. Lots and lots.’
Warmth filled Michael. He loved this kid to bits. And he loved the owner of those arms going round him now.
‘Chantelle...’ Sniff.
‘Choking up’s new for you.’ She gave him a kiss on the cheek. ‘Steph’s really got to you.’
‘Pardon?’
‘Come on. You’re the only one in the dark over this. You and maybe Steph.’ She took Aaron from him. ‘Let’s put you in with those bouncy balls while Uncle Mike and I have a chat.’
‘Coffee?’ Might as well overdose and give his body the kick that it apparently needed. It seemed everyone except him knew what his heart was thinking. Did Steph know? She hadn’t backed off last night when he’d reached for her.
His heart lifted.
Or was she just following through on the physical with no thought for the future?
His heart dropped back to his gut.
‘Coffee’s the best I’m going to get to drink in here,’ his sister grinned. ‘You’d better order food while you’re at it. A certain boy isn’t going to last long before he wants to eat.’
With coffee in front of them, and the food order being processed, Michael found that he didn’t know where to start.
‘I’ll give you a clue,’ Chantelle said. ‘Patricia did you more damage than you’ve ever admitted to yourself.’
‘She did that,’ he agreed. ‘But I probably made it easy for her.’
‘Because of Dad and his divorces, your mum and ours and their break-ups. Mine came later, but it only proved you were right to think divorce was a given for Laings.’
‘You knew I thought that?’
He’d never talked about any of this with his sisters. Never talked about anything from back when they were growing up and dealing with their parents’ take on commitment.
‘You’re an open book to Carly and me.’
It wasn’t hard to laugh. Another surprise. ‘Thanks a lot.’
‘So... Steph?’
‘She accused me of hiding behind my responsibilities.’
‘You’ve always done that.’
He had to agree with both women. ‘It was how I coped.’
The divorce gene thing wasn’t really his problem—not a major one. It was the pain of the betrayal that had led to his divorce. The killing off of his dreams for family and love.
Steph would never do that. It was there in her demeanour, in the way she stood up to him when she thought he was wrong, the way she had moved in to help him when she already had enough on her plate.
The food order arrived.
‘Eat up. I’ve got things to do.’
He could only hope he wasn’t too late.
* * *
Driving away from the base at the end of shift, Steph struggled to find any energy. After a night full of activity and little sleep, her day at work had topped up her exhaustion levels. But it was the nagging feeling that she couldn’t face another night at Michael’s house without breaking down that really got to her.
As for stopping at the supermarket to get something to prepare for dinner, and then actually cooking it—forget it. Soup in a can sounded the perfect solution. And if Michael didn’t like soup, too bad. She’d heat and eat it, and go to sleep.
Zac. Damn. She had to take him for a walk. He’d be excited and leaping all over her when she stepped inside.
Her legs ached at the thought of doing anything other than curling up on the couch but her heart sighed. Bring it on. Zac’s your new life.
And she did love the dog—got all teary just thinking about how he seemed to have selected her for his future. As though he had an unerring sense of her need for a stability that matched his. So of course they’d go for a walk. It was their together time—all part of the deal she’d made with herself for her new life.
Anyway, it would get her away from sitting in the kitchen, facing Michael, eating soup in silence. At the moment she was beyond talking to him as if nothing hurt, nothing worried her. As if she was a woman who’d had a wonderful night and moved on.
The front door opened and Zac bounded out before she’d locked her car. ‘Hey, boy, how’s things?’ His ears were like silk against her palms.
‘He’s been for a walk,’ Michael called from the porch.
‘Not alone, I hope?’ she answered through her surprise that Michael was waiting for her and talking to her.
A sharp bark of laughter. ‘No. I took him.’
Her surprise deepened and she studied Michael as she hauled herself up the steps. ‘How did that go for you? You’re still upright and looking in reasonable working order.’
She guessed she couldn’t avoid talking to him, and Zac didn’t exactly stay to heel for his walks, preferring to leap about and wind the lead around her legs.
‘We managed. I am getting back up to speed.’ He held the door wide, then closed it behind her. ‘Dinner’s ordered for seven-thirty.’
Her grocery bag bumped her knee. ‘Anything would beat tomato soup.’
What was going on? He’d taken Zac for a walk and sorted dinner.
‘You must be feeling a lot better.’
Maybe sex had been the recharge he’d needed to start getting back on his feet. Pity it hadn’t worked like that for her.
She headed for the kitchen.
‘Steph, wait. About this morning. We need to talk.’
She shook her head at him. ‘Why? You were being honest. I don’t like that you want nothing to do with me after what I thought was a wonderful night, but at least you weren’t playing games.’
Since when did she do such transparent honesty? Lay her feelings out there for him to know?
Honesty deserved honesty.
Yeah, but her heart deserved protection too.
Shoving his hand through his hair made the thick curls stand up. ‘I didn’t want to push you away, which is why I did it.’
Steph grimaced. ‘You’re fighting me. Us.’
‘Yes. I was.’
He was watching her as if he couldn’t get enough of her—but that had to be wishful thinking on her part. He hadn’t wanted a bar of her that morning.
‘I’m going to take a shower. You want to put this in the pantry?’ She tried to hand him the supermarket bag.
He ignored it. ‘The days you’ve been staying here I’ve found I listen out for you coming home after work, after every walk you take with Zac. It’s strange, considering I’ve lived alone for twelve years. Not counting the time Chantelle and Aaron spend with me. That’s different.’
She wasn’t getting this. He’d made absolutely certain she knew there was no place for her in his life beyond the bedroom last night.
‘I’ll be blunt. I don’t understand.’
He took her hand, led her into the sitting room and gently pushed her in a chair. ‘Would you like a glass of wine?’
He wasn’t waiting for an answer, had glasses already standing on the sideboard. The snapping sound of the cap on a bottle of their favourite Pinot Gris was loud in the sudden silence.
‘Are you dodging my question that wasn’t a question?’
‘Here.’
A full glass appeared in the line of her troubled vision.
‘I’m not sure I need that. I’m shattered and I intend eating and going to bed. Alone.’
That last word had sneaked out unintended. But now she’d put it there she felt some of her tension slip away. She was in control. Whatever Michael wanted she wasn’t interested—because it wouldn’t involve marriage and for ever.
Then she lifted her gaze and really looked at him. At the man who’d made love to her last night. It hadn’t been just sex—not from her position. Badly worded, but she knew her own meaning. This was the man who had held her tenderly when she was upset, who had watched her back even when she’d asked him not to, who had joined her in leaning against the wall in the ED when her heart was cracking without even knowing what it was all about.
A deep sadness and despair washed into her. Why did she have to fall for a man who didn’t do marriage? Of course she was interested—but not dumb enough to believe that would solve everything. Only staying ahead of him would do that.
A loud pounding on the front door gave her the opportunity to escape while she collected her thoughts. A small man was on the bottom step, hoping from one foot to the other. ‘Lady, you ambulance person?’
‘Yes, I am. What’s wrong?’
She knew the moment Michael come up beside her, felt his warmth.
‘My wife. She very sick. Come quick.’
‘I’m coming too,’ Michael muttered. ‘Don’t go inside until I’m there. I’ll get the first aid kit.’
The one that rated right up there with those they used on the ambulance.
‘Good idea,’ Steph agreed as she followed the stranger down the path. ‘Where are we going?’
‘Over road. White house. We underneath.’
‘Underneath’ turned out to be a pokey flat, damp and cold, with mildew the main colour on the walls. Steph shivered.
‘Here my wife.’
A small woman lay on a narrow bed, huddled under a dirty blanket. Her breathing sounds were erratic. The face peering up at her was covered in a red rash.
‘How long has your wife been like this?’
‘Hour.’
Bleeding heck. Why had he taken so long to knock on Michael’s door?
‘Hello, I’m Steph—a paramedic. Can you hear me?’ Lifting the blanket, she gasped at the small but very pregnant belly. ‘How far along are you? How long have you been pregnant?’
The man held up six fingers.
‘Six months?’
He nodded.
Steph found a wrist, took a pulse reading. Slightly fast. The woman was gasping for air, taking short inhalations. Her eyes opened whenever one of them spoke, but her response to touch was sluggish.
‘Thought I said to wait outside...’ Michael handed her the BP cuff. ‘Need an ambulance?’
‘Yes. Rash...shortness of breath. Query anaphylactic shock. GCS four.’
Steph wound the cuff around the woman’s arm and pressed the button on the machine. Michael handed her his phone. 111 was already showing on the screen.
‘I’ve got an allergy pen in my kit.’
Phew. ‘She’s six months pregnant.’ That baby had to be saved, no matter what.
‘What emergency service do you require?’ intoned the woman at the call centre.
‘Ambulance.’
Steph was put through and rattled off the details and the address, not taking her eyes off the woman and that baby bump. Please be all right. Hang in there baby, we’re getting help. There’s no way we’re losing you. Her eyes watered. It seemed saving babies was her thing.
‘BP’s low.’ Michael backed up the shock theory. ‘Is your wife allergic to anything? Is there any food she can’t eat? Do insect bites make her sick?’ Michael asked as he tore the cover off the allergy pen.
The man standing over them looked as if his world was imploding. ‘No, she good with all food. Never happen before.’
‘What’s that?’ Steph pointed to a red swollen spot on the woman’s arm. ‘Looks like a bite to me.’
A quick look and Michael agreed. ‘Whitetail spider?’ He jammed the needle into muscle and pressed down. ‘Now we watch and wait and keep the baby safe.’
A man after her own heart. ‘Yes, we do,’ she whispered.
Waiting sucked. But there was nothing else to do. Except...
She wrapped her hand around the woman’s tiny one. ‘Is this your first baby?’
The woman nodded. ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘I worried about baby.’
Michael had a stethoscope pressed against the woman’s bump. ‘Seems all right in there,’ he told the anxious parents.
Steph was as relieved as they were. Looking around the dimly lit room she wondered if a whitetail spider was the culprit. Where there was one of those there’d be more.
‘Thank you for coming,’ the man said. ‘We having a girl. What’s your name?’ he asked Steph. When she told him he smiled. ‘We name baby Steph.’
Tears sprang up, and she didn’t bother stopping them. ‘That’s lovely, but you don’t have to.’
In her hand the woman’s fingers squeezed. ‘We do. You came fast. I’m glad you live close.’
No point in explaining. Steph rubbed the back of her free hand over her face. Where was that ambulance? It was taking for ever to get here.
Then there was the sound of a siren, coming nearer up the road, getting louder by the second, and Steph relaxed. Michael threw her a warm glance and continued to keep an eye on the woman, checking her pulse and temperature again.
She didn’t know what to make of his warmth, but she guessed it had something to do with their interrupted conversation.
Once they’d handed over to the paramedics, both of whom she’d met before at the station, Michael slung his kit over his shoulder and wrapped an arm around her waist.
‘You all right?’
‘Yes, I am now we’ve handed over. That baby will be okay, won’t it?’
‘Yes, Steph, that’s one you don’t have to worry about.’
‘But what if it gets bitten once it’s born when it’s living there?’
‘Don’t go there.’ Michael took her hand in his. ‘I’ll talk to them about getting the place sprayed for all spiders. Or maybe you should. They’ve fallen for you.’
If only he’d do that too.
As soon as they were inside his house he put down the kit and laid his hands on her shoulders. ‘Go and have that shower you were wanting.’
‘All right.’
‘Your wine will keep a bit longer. So will I.’
His smile hit her in the heart.
Did this mean they’d return to the conversation they’d been stumbling around before his neighbour had banged on the door?
* * *
As they sat down in the lounge again, all scrubbed and in clean clothes, Michael had to sit on his hands, figuratively, or else he was going to leap up and scoop Stephanie into his arms and hug her until that sadness was banished for ever.
He wanted to do it. To promise her that she’d one day be a mum, to make her feel better, to obliterate her pain.
In other words he wanted to be able to wave a magic wand and make everything better in her world. But he was all out of wands, magic or not. And that wasn’t what tonight was about. Suddenly he couldn’t just sit here and talk about his feelings. He had to show her.
Back on his feet, he reached for her. ‘Come with me.’
In the dining room he stopped, and Steph gasped as she saw the table set with silver cutlery and a floral decoration in the middle.
‘What’s going on?’ Troubled eyes turned to him. ‘Michael?’
‘Dinner will be delivered any minute.’
‘Pizza or Thai?’ Her voice was barely there.
‘Neither.’
He led her across the room and held out a chair. His hands were shaking, his heart thumping. What if he’d got this wrong? He’d die if she laughed at him.
‘I rang the seafood restaurant down on the waterfront—asked for their dish of the day.’
‘Since when do they do deliveries?’
‘Since I begged them.’
‘You’re scaring me.’
I’m scaring myself.
‘Don’t be worried. I only want to make you happy. I told you this morning I don’t want to hurt you and I meant that. Trust me?’
He held his breath and watched every expression imaginable scud across her face. When she didn’t answer his heart died a little bit. He was messing this up.
‘I’m wooing you.’
Fast. But hopefully not so quickly that it sent her running for the hills. He’d taken too long all ready.
She choked on the wine she’d sipped. ‘You’re what?’
‘I am going to prove to you I can be the man you deserve.’
He might be making the biggest idiot of himself. Stephanie might not care enough about him—might not love him at all. But last night she’d shared her body as if it was a gift to him. He’d lost himself in her generosity, had felt he’d come home. And when he’d woken with her in his arms he’d been afraid. Afraid of winning and then losing her. Afraid of not trying hard enough.
‘Why, Michael?’ she squeaked. Swallowing and clearing her throat, she tried again. ‘This morning I got the message loud and clear. You don’t—won’t—do commitment. What’s changed since? Because that’s important to me.’
She was trembling, and he rescued the wine glass from her fingers.
‘I got honest with myself. You were right. I have been using my family as an excuse not to lay my heart on the line again. My marriage ended horribly, and while I blamed myself I also grabbed every excuse in the book not to put myself in that situation ever again.’
He swiped a finger around his collar, let some air in over his hot skin.
‘Then one day I met this take-no-prisoners nurse in the ED and I’ve never got her out of my head since. Those two weeks we shared were so out of this world I ran. In my head, at least. But now I’ve stopped and turned around. I can’t imagine my life without you in it in every way imaginable.’
There, he’d told her everything. Ah, no—not everything.
‘I love you, Stephanie.’
The doorbell chimed. Damn. He’d waited years to open up his heart to someone and now the bloody doorbell rang. Go figure.
* * *
Steph reached for her wine, took a slow mouthful, savouring the delicious flavour as she gathered herself together. Had she heard right? Or was she about to wake up and find this the most horrendous dream she’d had to date?
Voices in the hallway told her she wasn’t asleep. Dinner had arrived.
This was beyond scary. Michael had just told her he loved her.
They were the words she’d never believed she’d hear. She had her fears, but so did Michael—marriage being one of them. But he had said those three special words. Words she’d never thought she’d hear from him.
She rose on shaky legs and went to find him. He was closing the front door behind the restaurant person. She headed for him, stepped up close to place her hands on his chest. She loved this man. He needed to know that. Now.
Her mouth dried. Could this really be happening? He wasn’t going to turn away from her again, was he?
Only one way to find out. Put her heart on the line as he’d done. Tell him. But he’d made a habit of pushing her away. She’d never survive if he did it again after she’d told him she loved him. As if life was going to be a beach if she didn’t...
Okay. Deep breath.
‘Michael, I love you. I have always loved you from that day you arrived in the ED. We must’ve clicked instantaneously without realising.’
The joy on his face as he lowered his head towards hers made her giddy. She had to hang on—tight. Then he kissed her gently, softly, lovingly. And she returned the feelings in triplicate.
Finally they dragged themselves apart and Michael took her hand, led her into the dining room and to the feast that was cooling on serving plates.
His voice quivered. ‘A celebration dinner.’
‘Yes, it is.’ Though she wasn’t hungry now. Not for food.
Tightening her hand around his, she held him still.
‘You hurt me when you dumped me two years ago, but you did the right thing. I wasn’t ready. I needed that time away from Auckland, away from the people who’ve supported me almost too much in the past. I needed to learn to stand strong on my own before I committed to someone else. Otherwise I might’ve dragged you down with me.’
‘I worked that out recently.’ Those beautiful lips widened into a heart-wrenching smile. ‘But you love me, and that’s all that matters. We can talk this over all night or we can kiss and make up. Kiss again, I mean.’
‘I like that idea best.’
As his mouth closed over hers Steph fell into Michael, relaxed completely for the first time in for ever. She’d come home, ticked the boxes.
All except one.
* * *
Dinner was cold when they made it out of the bedroom. Wrapped in her thick bathrobe, Steph couldn’t stop smiling as her body hummed after their lovemaking.
‘I’ll reheat this.’
‘It’s not going to be quite the same, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.’
Michael gave her one of his toe-curling smiles as he found two clean glasses and filled them from the bottle he’d left on the sideboard.
Taking the wine he offered her, Steph made a decision. It was now or never—and she wasn’t into never.
‘How do you feel about us getting married?’
He blanched. ‘I know I’ve come a long way—but not quite as far as you, it seems.’
‘I’m not saying we have to rush out tomorrow to buy a marriage licence, but I want to do it one day. When I say I love you, Michael, I mean the whole deal.’
‘You’re right. Marriage is important.’ He gulped his wine, coughed when it went down the wrong way.
She had to continue. ‘It’s about trust.’
‘I trust you—always.’
‘Sure you do. And I trust you. But what I’m saying is we have to trust us.’ Raising her glass, she tapped her breast and then his chest. ‘Us. We have to let go of the things that have hurt each of us in the past and believe in the future, trust our feelings and trust each other’s.’
He nodded, his mouth lifting into a beautiful smile. ‘Especially my feelings for the woman I know and love.’
He loved her. Air hissed over her bottom lip. That was the second time he’d told her.
‘You’ve been showing me that for a while now, but neither of us recognised it for what it was. Love.’
The word slid slowly over her lips into the air between them, wrapping around them. His lips were silk on hers, tasting of wine and, yes, of love.
Was this going where she suspected it might be headed? Where she wanted, needed it to go? Excitement raised its head, heated her blood.
Down, girl. We’re not there yet.
‘Are you sure you can change your long-held belief so abruptly?’ She didn’t want him opting out tomorrow, or next month. She wouldn’t survive. ‘There’s my infertility to consider. It would mean you won’t have children of your own. Have you thought that through?’
‘I have. It’s quite simple. A baby would be a bonus, but not a reason to be with you. If I don’t have a future with you I’ll be missing out on the best chance I’ve ever had of the things I’ve dreamed about. I won’t win the heart of the woman I love more than that life.’
‘Oh, you’ve already got that.’ She smiled tentatively.
He loved her. Under her ribs, her heart worked a bit harder. He was prepared to do this for her. She loved him more than she’d have believed possible. And she could give the same back. Yes, letting go of her belief and need wasn’t that hard after all.
‘We don’t have to marry. I’ll live with you if that’s what you want.’
His head moved slowly from side to side. ‘No, Stephanie. That’s not happening.’ He got down on bended knee and reached for her hands again. ‘Stephanie Roberts, will you please do me the honour of becoming my wife?’
She’d have said yes if not for the monstrous lump blocking her throat. Throwing herself at him, wrapping her arms and legs around him tight and placing her lips on his mouth was the best answer she had at that moment.
‘Is this a yes?’ he murmured against her mouth.
She nodded, swallowed hard, and whispered, ‘Yes, I will marry you.’
Tick. The final box had just been filled in.
Just as well she hadn’t got around to putting the dinner in the microwave. It seemed it just wasn’t a night for fine dining...
Five months later...
‘Why do honeymoons have to come to an end?’ Steph asked her husband as he negotiated the traffic on the northern motorway. ‘I mean, if we take out the Christmas and New Year celebrations with our families and friends joining us in the beach house component, we’ve only had ten days of honeymoon all to ourselves.’
‘You think it’s all going to turn to boring and routine once we get home?’ Michael smiled. ‘Timetables and shifts, getting in the groceries now that you’ve taken up cooking, mowing the lawns so Zac doesn’t get lost in the grass—stuff like that?’
‘All of the above.’ Something was niggling at her, and through the haze of love and fun and being with Michael it just wouldn’t expose itself. ‘You sure today’s Sunday?’
‘Afraid so. Just to remind you—we both start back at work tomorrow.’
‘Yeah, yeah...’
She was looking forward to it—had missed the buzz of racing to help someone—but there’d been a much bigger buzz of another kind going on over the past weeks. Being married to Michael had turned out to be better than even her wildest dreams had allowed.
So what was wrong with her? Everything was panning out the way she’d hoped, had longed for. Sitting beside her was the most wonderful man on the planet, who loved her exquisitely in every way possible. What more could she be wanting?
Ping.
‘What’s the date?’
‘The fifth. Of January, in case you missed the significance of New Year’s Eve.’
‘The fifth?’ Her mouth dried. ‘It is, isn’t it?’ Her hands became fists on her thighs.
Couldn’t be. No way. Not now. Not after all this time.
‘Steph? You’re worrying me.’
I’m frightening myself too.
‘Sorry. It’s okay.’
She’d wait till she knew for sure one way or the other—didn’t want to upset Michael if she was wrong and had to retract it. She knew the pain of that all too well. He did not need to experience it just because she’d blurted out something without first verifying it.
‘Now I know you’re hiding something.’
Despite his smile there was grit in his voice that ground into her.
‘You’re right.’ Being honest was the only way to go—pain or no pain. They’d agreed to share everything, to trust each other, to trust them. ‘I might be pregnant.’
Michael jerked, swerving the car into the far lane before he straightened it and got his thinking sorted. ‘How late are you?’
‘Only six days, but I’m never late—not even a day.’
No, this wasn’t possible.
‘It has to be a result of all the excitement of our wedding, and Christmas and New Year. My body has forgotten what it’s meant to be doing.’ Damn, this was going to hurt. ‘I will not get excited. It’s a false alarm.’
‘Only one way to find out—and the sooner the better.’
Deliberately changing lanes for the next exit, he sped up. His mouth was grim, his eyes filled with worry when he flicked her a glance.
‘Don’t overthink it. Please, sweetheart.’
‘It’s all right. I’ll be fine. I’ve known for a long time I can’t get pregnant, so I’m not going to fall to pieces over a negative result.’
Huh? Where was the honesty in that?
At Albany, Michael pulled up outside the first pharmacy he saw and was out of the vehicle and around to Steph’s door before she’d unclipped her seat belt.
Hand in hand, they raced inside. ‘Where are the pregnancy test kits?’ Michael called out.
All conversations stopped as staff and customers turned towards them.
‘Second aisle, halfway down on the left,’ a woman in a smart navy smock answered as she made her way out from behind the counter. ‘Here, let me show you. We have a few choices.’
‘Just want one that shows positive!’ Steph smiled, despite the fear cranking up in her tummy.
‘This one is the most popular.’ The woman handed her an oblong box.
Steph’s hand shook as she stared at it. This was the instrument of truth. In her hand was a stick that would decide their future.
Believe in good things. Your life’s turned around since you came home to Michael.
Her mouth tilted upward. ‘We’ll take it.’
Michael was ahead of her, his wallet in his hand, withdrawing crisp twenty-dollar notes. ‘Don’t worry about the change—buy as many coffees as you can.’
And then he was taking Steph’s hand again and racing for the door.
‘Come on, sweetheart. We’re wasting time.’
The shop assistant called, ‘Good luck!’ which was followed by the pharmacist and the customers adding their best wishes and clapping.
The fear fell away as Steph went with the good wishes and excitement wrapping around them. The drive home took ten minutes—so much for speed limits—and felt like for ever.
But the moment they were inside the house she paused, her heart thumping. ‘What if—?’
Michael’s lips kissed her forehead, then her mouth. ‘Let’s find out.’
As the thin blue line appeared Steph shrieked and leapt in the air, before throwing herself at Michael to wrap her arms around him and kiss that grinning mouth.
‘Thank you, thank you. You made me pregnant.’ Unbelievable.
‘Wow...’
His voice was filled with awe. Nothing but love shone out at her from those gorgeous eyes she fell into regularly.
‘I’m going to take a photo. It can be the first thing to go into our baby album.’
She stared at the stick. Was this real? Suddenly the fear was back, turning her blood cold and lifting her skin.
‘What if...?’ No way could she finish the sentence.
Michael’s eyes locked on hers as his warm arms wrapped around her. ‘It’s real, Stephanie. Real. We are having a baby.’
‘But I couldn’t get pregnant—not even with—’
A lump blocked her throat. She couldn’t face waking up one morning to find the unmistakable evidence that this was all false, that she wasn’t pregnant. She couldn’t. Not this time.
‘Shh,’ he murmured against her hair. ‘There’s no understanding nature, darling. You and Freddy couldn’t conceive together, but no cause was established. You and I, however, we’re good to go.’
There was no hesitation—not a hint of doubt to mar his words.
Steph melted into him. ‘Thank you for believing in this. There will be days I’ll be crippled with doubt, but with you at my side I know we’ll make it.’
‘Trust us, remember?’ He smiled softly before kissing her thoroughly, wiping away any trace of that fear.