The Right Reason To Marry. Christine Rimmer

his gaze to her. He had a way of studying her, like he was memorizing the lines of her face. He used to do that months ago, sitting across from her at whatever bar they met up in, or later, naked in bed. One night, she’d teased that he should take a picture. He’d promptly grabbed his phone off the table by the bed and aimed it at her, snapping off two shots.

      She’d demanded he delete them, because who needs naked pictures of herself on a guy’s phone?

      He’d handed her the phone. She’d seen then that he’d only taken close-ups of her face. And when she glanced up at him, he gazed back at her so hopefully, like it would just be the greatest thing in the world, to have a couple of shots of her grinning, with total bedhead. She’d agreed he could keep the pictures—and then grabbed him close for a long, smoking-hot kiss.

      Liam was still watching her. “Have you chosen a name for this baby boy of ours?”

      “No, I have not. I kind of thought you might want input on his name.”

      Apparently, that was the right answer because he granted her a beautiful smile. “Thanks. I’ll be thinking about names. I’ll make up a list of ones I like. We can talk it over.” Solemnly, he added, “I read all about baby daddies. I don’t want to be that guy.”

      Her heart felt like someone was squeezing it. She hardly knew what to say. “You have other children?”

      “Huh?” He seemed horrified. “No! Wait. I get it. You mean ‘baby daddy’ as in a flaky guy who has kids by different women, but I wasn’t so much referring to the multiple baby mamas aspect. I meant a flaky guy, yeah. But in this case, a guy with only one baby, a guy who’s basically a sperm donor with minimal involvement—that’s what I don’t want to be. I want to be on board with this baby, available, helping out. I want to be there, you know? Tell me you know that.” He seemed so intense suddenly, as though it really bothered him that she might not understand his sincerity about pitching in.

      “Hey, really. It’s going to be okay, Liam.”

      “I hope so.”

      “It really is. I know I dropped the ball in a big way by not telling you what was going on sooner. I should’ve pushed past all the crap going on in my head and gotten in touch.”

      He watched her way too closely. “What crap, exactly?”

      Uh-uh. Not going there. “My point is, I promise you that we will work together. You don’t have to freak out.”

      “I’m not freaking out,” he said vehemently—and a bit freakily.

      Was this all going south suddenly?

      And just when they’d both seemed to be feeling more at ease around each other.

      She kind of wanted to cry, which was probably just hormones. But still. She really did want to get along with him. “Okay. You’re right. You’re not freaking out and I shouldn’t have even hinted that you were and I’m really, um...” Her already weak train of thought went right off the rails as she felt something shift inside her—a gentle shift, yet also a sudden one, a tiny pop of sensation deep within.

      And then something was dripping along the inside of her thighs.

      Frowning, she looked down, which was pointless. Her giant belly blocked her view and whatever was dripping down there, it was only a trickle. So far, her thigh-highs seemed to be absorbing it.

      “Okay,” said Liam. “Something’s happened. What?”

      She made herself look straight into his startled blue eyes and she put real effort into speaking calmly. “My water just broke. Would you mind driving me to Memorial Hospital?”

       Chapter Three

      Even more stunned than he’d been for most of the past few days, Liam croaked out, “Drive you to the hospital? Yes! Yes, I can do that.”

      “Great.” With a low groan, Karin gripped the crib rail and lowered her head.

      “Karin, are you...?”

      She put up her free hand. “Just a contraction. Hold on...”

      He stood there in the doorway waiting, feeling completely useless, as she panted and groaned some more.

      Finally, she let go of the crib rail and looked straight at him. “Where’s my phone?”

      “I think I spotted it on the kitchen counter?”

      “Right.” One hand under her enormous stomach, she lumbered toward him. He fell back from the doorway so she could get by and then trailed after her as she made for the main room.

      In the kitchen, she snatched up the phone. “This’ll only take a minute. I’ve got a group text all set up—to Naomi, Prim and my dad. All I need to do is hit Send.” The woman amazed him. Was there anything she wasn’t ready for? She poked at the phone. “There. I’ll call my doctor on the way—now get me a bath towel. Try the hall bathroom, first door on the left. I’ll meet you at the front door.”

      “A towel?” He just stood there gaping at her because somehow his feet had forgotten how to walk.

      “You want me to leak amniotic fluid all over the seats of that fancy blue Supercrew pickup out in front?”

      “Uh. No?”

      “Then go.”

      That got him moving. He raced off and returned with the towel. She had a suitcase ready, just waiting in the hallway. He took the suitcase and helped her into her coat. She grabbed her purse from the table by the door and off down the outside stairs they went, pausing midway for her to weather another contraction.

      At the truck, he threw the suitcase in back, spread the towel on the seat and helped her in. She was already on the phone with her doctor as he turned the pickup around and headed up the hill behind the house.

      At Memorial, he learned that the doctor was on the way and they were ready for Karin. They whisked her into a labor and delivery suite and let Liam tag along.

      Luckily, he’d studied up on what the father should do during the birth. He’d learned that his sole mission in the delivery room was to be a source of strength and support, to be as patient and attentive to his baby’s mother as he possibly could.

      He really tried to be that, even though when her girlfriends showed up, he was mostly relegated to staying out of the way as they stepped up on either side of her to comfort her and coach her through her contractions. They fed her ice chips and helped her to the bathroom when she needed it. The whole thing took hours, with the doctor in and out, the delivery nurses, too.

      Once he asked if he could take pictures.

      Naomi turned to him and spoke gently, “It’s so great that you’re here, Liam, but Karin doesn’t want you taking pictures of her lady bits.”

      “I would never do that,” he answered fervently. “Just...maybe of the baby and then maybe of Karin with the baby and then maybe I could hold him, too—I mean, after he gets here, of course?”

      On the far side of Karin, Prim was stifling a giggle.

      Naomi grabbed him in a hug. “Isn’t he adorable?” she asked Karin and Prim as she let him go.

      He was trying to decide whether or not his manly dignity had just been impugned when Karin said, “Of course you can take a few pictures with your son.” She met his eyes directly and he knew she was remembering that night in February, when he’d snapped a shot of her in his bed and she’d assumed he’d gotten more than just her face.

      “Terrific,” he replied, suddenly just crazy happy, right there in the delivery room, crazy happy and sure that everything was going to work out fine, though exactly what “fine” entailed he had no clear idea.

      Things