Just Married (More than Friends) Read online

  He followed her, rubbing his cheek. “Look, I’m sorry, but—”

  “You’re sorry, all right.” She took a protective stance, her arms crossing over her middle. “I knew that if I told you without giving you enough time to process you’d react this way. Do you want to go to the ultrasound or not?”

  “I’m not trying to pick a fight with you.”

  “Sell that to someone else. You’re more comfortable in confrontation than dealing with a complicated emotional landscape. If you ever disrespect me like that again it will be the last conversation we have without lawyers.”

  He set the bag on the floor and crossed his arms over his chest like armor. “You really had no idea you were pregnant?”

  “If I had, do you think I would have been drinking champagne at the wedding?” She moved her hands to her hips and tried to talk her heart into slowing down. “This ultrasound today is to check for signs of damage I may have done before I knew better. You might be panicking over nothing. I might have cooked their brains with Bikram yoga or poisoned them with mercury from sushi. They might not even be viable.” Her voice faltered and her jaw trembled, so she pressed her teeth together until she thought they might crack.

  She’d never seen him so unreadable. With other people, yes, but he’d never been this closed to her. But then, now he saw her as the enemy.

  Miranda did not look pregnant. At all. He studied her toned gel-covered belly as the technician pressed a device there. He rubbed his palm against his knee, wondering if it were a good idea to have something pushing on the babies.

  Babies. He glanced up at the monitor at the end of the room as it turned on, looking more like the television reception at Kentigern than babies. His babies. He rubbed at the knot in his jaw with his thumb. Maybe if these babies were girls, girls just like Mira, maybe then . . .

  “Can I hear the heartbeats for a moment first?” Mira asked, her voice almost timid. He wanted to ease her fears, but he was drowning in his own.

  “Isn’t it soothing?” The technician made a few clicks and the room filled with a cacophony of whooshing and thumping. She worked with one hand on Mira and another on the keyboard of the machine. The monitor broke into three horizontal patterns. Rose, Miranda. Baby Rose A, Baby Rose B.

  “That’s not right.” Cal leaned forward, peering at the screen.

  “It can be hard to hear the differences in heartbeats, so it’s easier to see them. I’ll print it off for you to look at later.”

  “No, their names. It’s not Rose, it’s Kerr.” He spelled it, yet the technician did nothing.

  Miranda shot him a glare, then gave the technician an conspiratorial smile. “He wants to be married to Miranda Kerr. I can’t blame him.”

  The women shared a laugh before editing the names. On the babies. Odd how a change in letters made things more real. And then with a few clicks and beeps, the image changed to something he thought he’d never see. His children, larger than life and on the big screen. His insides went raw and hollow, like a vortex had opened there, consuming him from the inside.

  “I’m going to take some measurements and pictures while you relax and enjoy the show. Oh,” she said, startled by something as the picture zoomed in.

  “What’s wrong?” Miranda didn’t hide the panic in her voice.

  “Nothing’s wrong, I just don’t always have one so cooperative this early. Are you hoping to find out the sex or are we saving the surprise?”

  “I thought it was too soon.” Excitement trilled on her words.

  “It can be, but Baby A is very cooperative. Let me just flip around here and see . . .”

  “Do you want to know?” Miranda asked. Her hazel eyes glittered in the dim room.

  He nodded. Why couldn’t he be normal? Take her hand like the guys in movies and pretend he wanted to wait for a surprise? He could see how he should act, but he’d never be that good of an actor. And if they were girls, everything would be so much easier.

  “We’re in luck. Baby B is a show-off too. Here’s hoping they’re this easy with their measurements.” The monitor went to a split screen, but neither image meant anything to him.

  Until an arrow appeared and the three letters he’d feared. BOY. His head dropped to his hands and he pushed at his temples, trying to hold it together.

  He’d done the one thing he swore he’d never do. Damn a child into his own personal hell.

  11

  “Are you supposed to be doing that?”

  Miranda opened her eyes to see an upside-down Cal scratching his belly so that his thin tee lifted to show a sliver of toned muscle above the undone button of his low-slung jeans. A flash of warmth started in her center and spread up to her toes and down to her hands, planted firmly beside the wall.

  “Didn’t Dr. Lambert say no yoga?”

  If she didn’t feel so bad about slapping him earlier she might do it again. “She said no Bikram yoga, which is done in a heated room. This is a simple handstand, done against the wall for safety.” She lowered one leg, and he rushed across the room to grab it. “Touch me and I will fall.” He froze as she set her feet on the ground and rolled up to stand.

  “There is nothing simple about being upside down.”

  “There is if you learned to do it before you could read. If you expect to get through this pregnancy without me slapping your head clean off, I’m going to need yoga, which is very healthy for the boys.”

  He winced, and she regretted taking him to the island for the second time this afternoon. When they’d arrived he declared he had work to do, and they’d gone to their separate corners. He to the master suite and adjacent office, and she to her childhood bedroom. If the two-story bank of floor-to-ceiling windows viewing the Sound hadn’t called to her, she might have stayed there all weekend.

  “Listen, I’m trying to give you space to digest the news. I’ll leave you alone if you stop coming at me.” He stepped closer and his warm scent wrapped around her like a blanket. What she wouldn’t give to bury her face in his neck and drown in that smell.

  “There is no cell service here. That is not safe.”

  “There is cell service on the ferry side of the island.” He opened his mouth to protest, but she held up a hand. “We have something even safer. A landline. So if you call 911, they can actually find you.” She motioned to the cordless phone sitting on the kitchen counter. He looked thoroughly nonplussed to be stepping back in history. “Or, you can tap into the Wi-Fi and make your calls that way.”

  “You truly enjoy taunting me.” He took the phone from the cradle and looked at it as if it were an alien.

  “You make it crazy easy. Don’t you have real phones at your office?”

  “Headsets.” He pursed his lips together and met her gaze. “I have to tell Mickey.”

  She tilted her head to the side. “Are you telling him as your godfather or as your lawyer?”

  He pushed a hand through his hair. “You do not understand the ramifications of what I’ve done.”

  “Knocked up your wife? Yeah, you’re a horrible person.” She took a seat on the countertop.

  “If they’d been girls—”

  “We’re having two healthy babies, Kerr.” Even though she couldn’t make heads or tails of the ultrasound images, learning their neural development looked normal had eased her guilt considerably. Brains mattered, what went on between their legs did not.

  “You’re not thinking long term. They’ll hate each other. The heir and the spare. One with all the responsibility and the other with none.”

  “You’re missing the point completely.”

  “I don’t think I am.”

  “You don’t want to have children.”

  He swallowed in response. She’d known, and yet it didn’t hurt any less.

  “I don’t expect anything from you. I’m more than capable of raising the boys on my own. You didn’t ask for this. I mean, this is just another business deal for you. Like you said, you don’t want to be in a marriage, just
married. Right?”

  He didn’t so much as blink. Her heart wrinkled in her chest, so she pressed a hand there to keep it from withering completely. She knew he didn’t love her. She’s always known what they had was sexual, not romantic. Yet her heart had always refused to see the difference.

  “You can go back to your regularly schedule life and they’ll be better off not knowing their father didn’t want them. I can do this. We’ll tell everyone they’re someone else’s, they won’t even blame you when we divorce. We’ll tell our friends at the barbecue on Monday, Mickey can send me annulment papers on Tuesday.”

  “I will not shirk my responsibilities.” She’d expected relief, but his eyes widened and his nostrils flared, and if she’d ever known Cal to be angry she’d swear this was rage. But he didn’t do emotion. Whatever was churning behind his dark gaze would likely stay right there.

  “You don’t want to be a father and I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do. There’s nothing shady about admitting the truth and acting from there, instead of taking a reactionary stance that serves no one. We’re not a problem that needs solving.” She pasted on a smile. “I’m going to go for a bike ride.” She slid off the counter, her legs weak as she stood, but she refused to let them wobble. She didn’t doubt her ability to do this alone, but single-parenting had never been part of her plans.

  He grabbed her arm as she left the kitchen. “It will be dark soon.”

  “I’ll be back before then. Besides, I can navigate the entire island by moonlight. I lived here, remember?”

  She made it into the garage before she needed to close her eyes and take a deep breath. It wasn’t easy to love someone so much you could actually let them go. A few weeks ago she hadn’t been able to stand the idea of Cal spending his life with someone else. But now, she knew that for the boys at least, it might be better that way.

  Cal leaned back into the weathered Adirondack chair on the deck and looked at the house. Light shone from every window, making the length of the house glow as twilight loomed. Once Mira left, he’d walked through every room, trying to picture what it would be like with the babies here.

  He hadn’t appreciated how much room she had until he’d done his tour, realizing it wasn’t much smaller than his place in the Hamptons. He’d wanted to find fault with it, to put some nails in the coffin and convince her to move. But instead he could see the boys in their own rooms with the adjoining bathroom. Mira would sit on this very deck and watch them run on the lawn, or play on their own stretch of beach. They might even have friends nearby. The kind of childhood he’d yearned for.

  But try as he might, he couldn’t fathom himself here. He’d known early he was too much like his father to be the kind of parent a child needed. He wouldn’t have time to kick a soccer ball or row a boat, and children did not understand that kind of dedication to work. He sure hadn’t.

  Mira seemed to understand, but she wanted all or nothing. He couldn’t do either. He couldn’t have children and pretend they didn’t exist, and he’d never grant her the annulment she asked for. He needed her, and she was having his children, and he could not for the life of him figure out what to do next. With his mind adrift, he couldn’t see a clear solution.

  He set his feet on the low table and dialed his mother’s number. She answered before the second ring.

  “Callum? Is everything all right?” Stillness in the background made her voice seem small. He’d thought she’d be at a party, networking her way into something or other.

  “Can’t a guy call his mum to say hello?”

  “Of course. But you don’t.”

  She had him there. “I’m in Seattle with Mira. Well, Whidbey Island actually. Right on the Sound. She has a house here. Waterfront. You’d like it.”

  “We have our own dock in the Hamptons. I’m sure Mira would find it acceptable.”

  He cleared his throat. “Before you plan to take her out sailing and toss her overboard, you should know she’s pregnant.”

  “I wouldn’t stage her disappearance, darling.” Her voice was as calm and steady as ever.

  “You’re not surprised?”

  “Are you?” Her voice lilted, as if she were laughing. Which she did not do.

  “Stunned.”

  “A mishap with her birth control, I assume?”

  He didn’t like her know-it-all tone. “She’s having twins. Boys.”

  The tiny gasp validated his feelings. Tragedy had blighted every set of twins in the Kerr line for all of recorded history. His own father and uncle had battled since birth, the golden child and the bad seed. His father had said many times all twins were that way.

  Bridie cleared her throat. “They say it skips a generation.”

  “Then where is Eamon’s twin?” He shook his head. With Mira’s pregnancy, he couldn’t pass his inheritance to Dirk even if he could get the tosser to play fair.

  She cleared her throat again.

  “Are you well?”

  “Very. When are you coming home?” Tapping and clicking filled the quiet.

  “Do not announce this. You are not to tell your friends, or even Mickey.”

  The clicking stopped. “Why?”

  “Because I haven’t decided how I’ll handle this yet. I am telling you as my mother and asking you to act like it for once.”

  “What do you mean, ‘handle’ it?” Her tone dropped to the demanding version she reserved for work or when he disappointed her.

  “There is a lot to consider.”

  “I can’t think of a single thing.”

  “Then I’ll need to look into an adult-care facility, because your mind has ceased to work. There are generations of history to reflect on, as well as logistics.” And his own ineptitude when it came to the feelings of others. Rob had shown him that earlier today.

  “Nothing we can’t handle. And of course she’ll move here. I’ll have the apartments switched so you’ll have more room. She’ll work for Mickey’s firm. Once we have a due date, we can get them listed at the proper schools. I’ll take care of everything.”

  For once in his life, he wanted to let her. “Mira doesn’t want to move.”

  “Well, that’s ridiculous. I’ll speak to her.”

  “That’s not a good idea. She’s actually thinking it’s best if I have nothing to do with the boys at all.” His chest constricted with each word.

  “It’s probably just her hormones crying out for attention. But, if that’s how she wants to play it, Mickey can take care of her.”

  Take care of her. “I’m the one in charge here.”

  “Then make sure she realizes the power you wield as father to those children. You have equal rights under the law, and she’s an orphan of limited means. You have a prestigious family and wealth that spans continents. This isn’t a battle she can win. Best if she sees it your way.”

  “I’ll do the right thing by my sons.” Mira was far better suited to raise children than anyone in his bloodline had ever been. Knowing she’d be an amazing mother had been the only thing that kept him from marrying her years ago. He may not have done it consciously, but giving his boys Mira as a mother was the best thing he’d ever do for them. She might have a strong will, but she had a soft heart, and children needed that more than money.

  “Of course you’ll do the right thing. You always do. And congratulations, Callum. Your father would be proud.”

  That would be a first. Too bad the man had died before it could happen. “Thank you, Mother. I’ll work on Mira and get back to you.”

  Mira waited until he clicked off the phone before climbing the steps of the deck and plopping the takeout bag beside his bare feet. “Just how do you plan to work on me, Kerr?”

  “With logic.” He met her gaze, looking at her as if they were discussing the weather. “If you set your hormones aside, you’ll see—”

  “Never reduce a woman to her biology. Not if you want to live through the night.”

  For the first time since
her announcement, he cracked a smile. “You are bloody violent when pregnant.”

  “I’ve only slapped you when you were so far out of line I should have tossed you out on your ass and forgotten your name.”

  “Well, we share a name, so good luck with that.”

  “I haven’t changed my name, and I won’t.”

  “You will. It won’t do for you to have a different name than the children.”

  “Two things.” She pulled the ring off her finger and held it out to him. “If you think a diamond means you can tell me what to do, you can take it back. And the children and I will have the same last name.”

  “Like hell.” He stood, but she refused to back up or back down.

  “You are operating under the assumption you have any say in the matter.” She slipped the ring into the front pocket of his shorts. “I’m not interested in being a brood mare to fulfill some ancient requirement in your family trust. In fact, I have half a mind to have the babies at home and never reveal which is older.”

  “Now you’re being selfish.”

  Usually the word would have stopped her cold. But tonight, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “You’re the one who’s not putting the boys first. You want them to be born into a family content on driving a wedge between them before they are even out of my body. And then what? Ship them off to boarding schools like you were? Withhold all acknowledgment or affection whenever they don’t act like your idea of what the perfect child should be? I won’t allow it.”

  “I won’t allow you to rob them of their birthright, their history. I live and work in New York, and that is where my children will be until they are ready for school.” This overconfident negotiation tactic usually worked for him, she could tell.

  Too bad she’d never back down when it came to what was best for the boys. She gave a shrug and her best gotcha grin. “The twins and I will live in Seattle, where we have a network of friends to support us emotionally. Which is something you’re incapable of. You only think about yourself and how things will affect you. I will always put what these children’s needs above all else.”