Baby Daddy Wanted (Crescent Cove 5)

Yes, it was early. No, neither of us had been tested. We weren’t even married or engaged or any of those things, so trying to start a family was probably nuts anyway.

But what if years passed and I still never got pregnant? And what if Murphy with his big family and traditional values started to feel like he’d missed out?

Then what?

I was putting the buggy before the kid. Intellectually, I knew that. But I’d never had even a glimmer of this much happiness before, and I was so terrified of somehow messing it up.

Somehow not being enough for this wonderful, incredible, perfect man I’d found.

By the time they left a short while later, I was ready to take a shower and just hide from the world for the rest of the day. Murphy was bringing home Chinese takeout and we’d binge on Netflix tonight.

A good way to escape from the reality I hadn’t been able to deny once I’d finally gone to the bathroom.

I wasn’t pregnant for another month. And I was okay with it. Or I would be. I’d take a nice hot shower, put my hair up and my new teddy on, and I’d greet Murphy the right way before we had dinner. It would reheat, right?

But before I showered, I had a phone call to make. I’d put it off for almost three months, and today seemed as good as any for making amends. God knows she’d called and texted me enough times.

Biting my lip, I hit the speed dial for my mother.

“VeeBee. Thank God.” The relief in her voice was palpable as soon as she answered. “I didn’t think you were ever going to forgive me.”

I blinked. Say what? My mother never asked for forgiveness.

Then again, neither did I.

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have run out on dinner. I was just overwhelmed.”

“Of course you were. What kind of mother springs her marriage on her daughter like that? And I didn’t know it was a special date for you and your gentleman. I messed it all up for you.”

“You did?” I actually pulled the phone away from my ear. “Is this really Andrea Dix—I mean, Newman speaking?”

She laughed, but it was a softer, gentler laugh, not the loud, seemingly false one that always grated on my nerves. “Yes, it is. And it’s a new year, so I guess you could I’ve turned over a new leaf. Trying to anyway. It’s hard teaching an old dog new tricks, even if she wants to learn.”

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know how to respond.

“How are things going with you and your young man?”

“Good. They’re really good.”

“I’m so glad to hear it. He’s a decent man. After you told me that Facebook post story, I was prepared for him to be some kind of pervert.”

That was so the opposite of my Murphy that I had to snort out a laugh.

“But that night at the restaurant after you ran off—and deservedly so,” she added before I could interject, “why, he sat there and just about flat out said he was in love with you and you were the best woman he’d ever met.”

My throat grew tight and hot. “He did not. Did he?”

Not that it came as a huge shock, since he proved his feelings to me every damn day. But telling a woman’s mother how you felt was big.

Especially since she’d acted wackier than a lawn appliance during dinner and he’d been left on his own to fend them off after I’d split.

“He sure did. And that he didn’t know if he’d get to be the father of your babies, but if he did, he’d think he’d won the damn lottery. I just couldn’t imagine anything sweeter than that. Right then and there, my opinion changed. Plus, he has manners too. To be honest, I’m not even sure he’s fully human. You don’t think he’s one of those cyborgs, do you?”

I rose to put away the cider I’d barely touched. Latte trotted behind me to the kitchen. “Pretty sure he’s not.”

“I know I screwed up some stuff for you growing up. Us moving around so much, never really setting down roots… I know it had to be hard for you.”

I stopped with my hand on the refrigerator and my dog circling my legs, begging to be picked up. “Since when?”