First Comes Baby.... Michelle Douglas

his glass down. ‘Miscarriages. High blood pressure. Diabetes. Sixty-hour labours!’ He spat each word out with all the venom that gnawed at his soul.

      His hand clenched. So help him God, if any of those things happened to Meg…

      ‘Being a father is the best thing I’ve ever done with my life.’

      Ben’s head rocked up to meet Stefan’s gaze. What he saw there made his blood start to pump faster. A crack opened up in his chest. ‘How many?’ he croaked.

      Stefan held up three fingers and Ben’s jaw dropped.

      Stefan clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Sure, mate, there are risks, but I bet you a hundred bucks your friend will be fine. If she’s a friend of yours she won’t be an airhead, so I bet you’ll find she’s gone into all this with her eyes wide open.’

      Meg had, he suddenly realised. But had he? For a moment the roaring in his ears drowned out the noise of the rowdy bar.

      It downed out everything. Stefan’s lips moved. It took an effort of will to focus on the words emerging from them.

      ‘…and she’ll have the hubby and the rest of her family to help her out and give her the support she’ll need.’

      Ben pinched the bridge of his nose and focused on his breathing. ‘She’s going to be a single mum.’ She had no partner to help her, and as far as family went…Well, that had all gone to hell in a hand basket years ago. Meg’s father and Elsie? Fat lot of good they’d be. Meg had no one to help her out, to offer her support. No one. Not even him—the man who’d helped get her pregnant.

      A breath whistled out of Stefan. ‘Man, that’s tough.’

      All the same, he found himself bristling on Meg’s behalf. ‘She’ll cope just fine. She’s smart and independent and—’

      ‘I’m not talking about the mum-to-be, mate. I’m talking about the baby. I mean it’s tough on the baby. A kid deserves to have a mother and a father.’

      Ben found it suddenly hard to swallow. And breathe. Or speak. ‘Why?’ he croaked.

      ‘Jeez, Ben, parenting is hard work. When one person hits the wall the other one can take over. When one gets sick, the other one’s there. Besides, it means the kid gets exposed to two different views of the world—two different ways of doing things and two different ways of solving a problem. Having two parents opens up the world more for a child. From where I’m sitting, every kid deserves that.’

      Ben’s throat went desert-dry. He wanted to moisten it, to down the rest of his beer in one glorious gulp, but his hands had started to shake. He dragged them off the table and into his lap, clenched them. All he could see in his mind’s eye was Meg, heavily pregnant with a child that had half his DNA.

      When he’d agreed to help her out he hadn’t known he’d feel this…responsible.

      ‘But all that aside,’ Stefan continued, ‘a baby deserves to be loved unconditionally by the two people who created it. I know I’m talking about an ideal world, here, Ben, but…I just think every kid deserves that love.’

      The kind of love he and Meg hadn’t received.

      The kind of love he was denying his child.

      He swiped a hand in front of his face. No! Her child!

      ‘You’ll understand one day, when you have your own kids, mate.’

      ‘I’m never—’

      He couldn’t finish the sentence. Because he was, wasn’t he? He was about to become a father. And he knew in his bones with a clarity that stole his breath that Uncle Ben would never make up for the lack of a father in his child’s life.

      His child.

      He turned back to Stefan. ‘You’re going to have to find someone to replace me. I can’t lead Thursday’s safari.’ Three weeks in the heart of Africa? He shook his head. He didn’t have that kind of time to spare. He had to get home and make sure Meg was all right.

      He had to get home and make sure the baby was all right.

      CHAPTER THREE

      A MOTORBIKE TURNED in at the end of the street. Meg glanced up from weeding the garden and listened. That motorbike sounded just like Ben’s, though it couldn’t be. He wasn’t due back in the country for another seven weeks.

      She pressed her hands into the small of her back and stretched as well as she could while still on her knees. This house that her father had given her took a lot of maintenance—more than her little apartment ever had. She’d blocked out Saturday mornings for gardening, but something was going to have to give before the baby came. She just wouldn’t have time for the upkeep on this kind of garden then.

      She glanced down at her very small baby bump and a thrill shot through her. She rested a hand against it—her baby—and all felt right with the world.

      And then the motorbike stopped. Right outside her house.

      She leapt up and charged around to the front of the house, a different kind of grin building inside her. Ben? One glance at the rangy broad-shouldered frame confirmed it.

      Still straddling his bike, he pulled off his helmet and shook out his too-long blond-streaked hair. He stretched his neck first to the left and then to the right before catching sight of her. He stilled, and then the slow grin that hooked up one side of his face lit him up from the inside out and hit her with its impact.

      Good Lord. She stumbled. No wonder so many women had fallen for him over the years—he was gorgeous! She knew him so well that his physical appearance barely registered with her these days.

      Except…

      Except when his smile slipped and she read the uncertainty in his face. Her heart flooded with warmth. This was the first time he’d seen her since she’d become pregnant. Was he worried she wouldn’t keep her word? That she’d expect more from him than he was willing or able to give?

      She stifled a snort. As if!

      While she normally delighted in teasing him—and this was an opportunity almost too good to pass up—he had made this dream of hers possible. It was only fair to lay his fears to rest as soon as she could.

      With mock-seductive slowness she pulled off her gardening gloves one finger at a time and tossed them over her shoulder, and then she sashayed down the garden path and out the gate to where he still straddled his bike. She pulled her T-shirt tight across her belly and turned side-on so he could view it in all its glory.

      ‘Hello, Uncle Ben. I’d like you to meet my baby bump—affectionately known as the Munchkin.’

      She emphasised the words ‘Uncle Ben’ and ‘my’, so he’d know everything remained the same—that she hadn’t changed her mind and was now expecting more from him than he could give. He should have more faith in her. She knew him. Really knew him. But she forgave him his fears. Ben and family? That’d be the day.

      He stared at her, frozen. He didn’t say anything. She straightened and folded her arms. ‘What you’re supposed to say, Uncle Ben, is that you’re very pleased to meet said baby bump. And then you should enquire after my health.’

      His head jerked up at her words. ‘How are—?’ He blinked. His brows drew together until he was practically glaring at her. ‘Hell, Meg, you look great! As in really great.’

      ‘I feel great too.’ Pregnancy agreed with her. Ben wasn’t the only one to notice. She’d received a lot of compliments over the last couple of months. She stuck out a hip. ‘What? Are you saying I was a right hag before?’

      ‘Of course not, I—’

      ‘Ha! Got you.’

      But he didn’t laugh. She leaned forward to peer