Changing Roles

Douglas kicked me under the table, and I brought my mind back to the business at hand. I enjoyed being partners with him but hated all the business stuff we had to deal with. When the meeting was finally done, we made our way to our cars, separating quickly. He knew I was anxious to get home, see how things had gone, then discuss our upcoming project with Shelby. Some of the location work would mean being away from home, and I hoped she would be up to some of the traveling with me—at least the shorter trips. Douglas and I had discussed hiring a private plane so the trips would be more comfortable for her and Adam. Both Caroline and Mum could come with us, if Mum was here for a visit. Since Adam was born, she had been a constant visitor.

Entering the house, I made a beeline for the kitchen, finding Mum with Adam. She was cooing at him as he blinked at her. I gathered him up, breathing in his baby scent—something I loved. As I nuzzled his little face with mine, the whole day faded away, and all that mattered was the tiny, warm body nestled against mine. He was already growing fast; I hated to be away from him. His blue eyes, so much like Shelby’s, shone with happiness as I held him, and as usual, I felt the overwhelming rush of love for my baby boy flow through me.

“Where’s Shelby?”

“She’s, ah, lying down. She just fed Adam.”

Her voice sounded strange.

“Is she okay? Did everything go all right at the doctor?”

She stood and took Adam from my arms. “Go see yer lassie.”

Panic crept up my spine. “Mum? What’s wrong?”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Nothing is wrong. But go see yer wife, Liam.”

My legs couldn’t move. Something was wrong.

Mum cupped my face with one hand, her voice soothing. “She is fine—I swear. But she needs ye, lad. Go to her.”

My feet carried me to our door, and I slipped inside. Shelby was on our bed, a box of tissues beside her. When she looked up, her eyes were red and swollen as they filled with fresh tears. I was quick to cross the room, kneeling in front of her, holding her hands, my imagination running wild with fear. “Tell me,” I demanded hoarsely.

Tears trickled down her cheeks, and I reached up to wipe them away.

“Do you remember when I got ready for the Oscars, and I was worried because I was fat?”

I nodded, unsure why she was thinking about that night. “You weren’t fat, you were beautiful.”

“What did you say to me that night when I was lamenting about my loose, flowy dress?”

I racked my brains. “Um, I said when we went to the Oscars next time for The Highlands, you could wear something racier if you wanted because you wouldn’t be pregnant then.”

She stared at me, her lip quivering. “Wrong,” she said. “I won’t be able to.”

I frowned, not understanding for a moment, and then realization hit me.

“No way.” I gaped at her teary face, before dropping my gaze down to her stomach. “But…we were protected, and you’re breastfeeding!” I sputtered. “My lists said it lessened the chance! And we used condoms!”

“Your lists were wrong. I’m pregnant, Liam. Again.” She shook her head. “And that one night…”

Oh.

Right.

She’d been in the kitchen late one evening, making us a snack, only wearing my T-shirt. When she’d bent over to grab something, showing me her sweet ass, I had moved in; one thing led to another, and the snack was forgotten. So was the condom. We’d had just gotten the six-week clearance and neither of us was planning on it in the moment—but it happened. And now…

All I could do was stare at her.

Pregnant.

How would her body handle this?

How would Shelby handle this?

“What did the doctor say? Is this…safe? For you?”

“I’m fine. She says I’m very healthy. We may need to take some precautions, but she says I should be fine.”

I hesitated, swallowing the lump I could feel growing in my throat. “Do you want this, Shelby?”

Her eyes flew to mine. “Yes!” She paused. “I’m still in shock, but Liam, you don’t—” Her voice caught.

I thought about what lay ahead. Another nine months of hormones. IAS, ES, and HS—all of them would be back. Anger. Tears. Throwing up. Worry. But then at the end—another child. Our child.

I looked up at her as she watched me. Nothing else mattered. We’d make it through as long as we were together. I’d make sure she had the best care, and I would look after her. I’d take all the yelling and the tears because she’d need me to.

“Yes,” I insisted gently. “I want another child.” Standing, I captured her mouth with mine. “I love you.”

A small sob escaped her lips, and I sat beside her, pulling her onto my lap and letting her cry as my mind raced. We were both in shock.