The Child Who Changed Them (Parent Portal 5)

His mother had said so. He should have known to heed her words.

He hadn’t, before now.

But talking to Wendy...to the woman he’d once thought he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, listening to her promise him everything he’d ever thought he wanted—even being willing to make a traditional home for him and the baby he had coming—he realized

something he could no longer deny.

He already had what he wanted.

Maybe not in the way he’d write it if he was in charge of a script. But loving someone meant accepting them as they were.

He didn’t say as much to Wendy. Just let her know, as kindly as he could, that while he very much appreciated her call, he’d moved on.

And as they both hung up, he didn’t suggest that they stay in touch.

His time with her had taught him a lesson in his life. One that had, perhaps, prepared him to meet the love of his life.

Elaina wasn’t what he’d originally envisioned as his true love. A woman who apparently couldn’t allow herself to commit to a man other than her beloved Peter.

Greg would never be more than second best to him. A stand-in was the one thing he’d said he’d never be again.

She cared about Greg. He’d even go so far as to let himself believe that she loved him some. It might go somewhere someday.

Her ability to give intimate love might never fly again.

Either way, he wasn’t going anywhere.

By conscious choice, knowing the inherent dangers in opening up to her, he was finally right where he was going to stay.

For as long as he and she both wanted him there.

* * *

Elaina hurried out of her room Thursday night of the following week, Beldon trotting along happily beside her, as she headed toward Greg’s end of the house.

They’d driven into Mission Viejo to look at nursery furniture on Tuesday after work, in Greg’s car, meaning Elaina was a passenger. In a very small car. While she’d been fighting car accident anxiety most of the way there and back, she was pretty sure Greg hadn’t been aware of the struggle. She wasn’t ashamed of how she felt, someone who’d almost died in a car accident, who’d lost her husband in one, could be prone to bouts of riding anxiety in a small vehicle that felt as though it would be crushed to smithereens in a battle with most of the vehicles sharing the road with them. But Greg would want to do something to help, and the fight within her own mind was something only she could resolve.

He’d asked if she minded one more stop on the way back to the freeway, which, of course, she hadn’t, and she’d been more than a little moved that he’d wanted her to take a look at a new SUV he’d been looking at, wondering what she thought. When she’d told him she loved it, he’d made arrangements on the spot to trade in his little sportscar for the much larger, nine-passenger, midnight blue metallic luxury vehicle.

They were scheduled to shop for groceries together after work on Friday. Other than that, she’d seen him only at work. They’d had lunch together once, as they used to do back when they were coworkers with benefits. And the talk had remained as neutral as it had always been at the hospital. If anyone had anything to say about Elaina being pregnant and Greg staying in town, they were respectful enough not to say it to the two of them.

At that moment, as she turned on the light and sped up toward his door, she didn’t care what anyone thought about anymore.

She’d just come in from dinner with some friends she’d known since medical school. Had told them about the pregnancy she could still camouflage with loose clothing but didn’t want to hide. And her stomach was rumbling. But not with food.

“Greg!” She had to get to him. Didn’t know how much longer the sensation would last...

“What?” His door flew open before she’d connected her fist with the door and she almost fell into the room.

“Feel this!” Grabbing his hand, she placed it on her stomach, held it just above the lateral left portion of her bladder. Beldon lay down by the door as though used to owners who thought stomachs were amazing. With her hand covering his, she put a little pressure on her stomach and waited, looking at Greg’s face. Waiting to see his expression.

Hoping...

And realized, too late, that he was standing there in a pair of black cotton boxer briefs. And nothing else.

With his hand pressed to the fabric of the short silk nightie she’d just pulled over her head.

There was no movement from within her uterus.