Having Adam's Baby
Autor
Christyne Butler
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There was absolutely nothing wrong with widowed florist Fay Coggen seeking a new lease on life. Just not in Adam Murphy's arms. But the night her late husband's best friend returned from his tour of duty overseas, Fay went from recrimination to tenderness in a heartbeat. When their mutual solace morphed into passion, it was destiny. As was the fact that she was now pregnant with Adam's child. The walls Adam had built around his heart as a soldier came tumbling down when he went calling on Fay. Comforting her was one thing; but it hadn't stopped there. Now he was going to be a father. He'd crossed the line. So why did it feel so right?
Chapter One
Fay Coggen was sick and tired of being sick and tired.
Eating healthier would help. More tofu-laced salads, less Chinese takeout. Her thirty-five-year-old body would thank her later. The heavy lifting required at her florist shop toned her arms and shoulders, but her backside would be better served if she did more at night than read or work on crossword puzzles, two favorite pastimes that kept her butt planted firmly on the couch.
Getting a decent nightâs sleep would probably work wonders, too. After eighteen months, she still wasnât used to sleeping alone. Even though sheâd been on her own for longer than that, in more ways than she could count.
Still, more rest would help her kick this nagging cold sheâd had for the last two months. With the busy Fourth of July holiday and the one-year anniversary of Scottâs death just a few weeks away, she needed all the energy she could get.
All reasons why she was sitting in her doctorâs office on this sunny June afternoon.
As far as medical facilities went, this one was pretty nice. Pale-yellow-and-white gingham wallpaper covered three walls. The fourth boasted a large bay window that looked out onto a lush lawn, stately rows of green hedges and a wooden bench surrounded by a carpet of red and purple impatiens beneath a shady tree.
And despite the fact she and Liz were friends, Fay could honestly say sheâd hated every moment sheâd spent here.
âSo sorry to have kept you waiting.â Lizâs lilting voice filled the air as she hustled into the room and closed the door behind her. âI wanted to double-check the test results myself.â
Her friend sat in the matching chair across from Fay, instead of taking her seat behind her desk. Fay smiled. âOver a simple case of the flu? Things must be pretty slow around here. So what are the doctorâs orders? Lots of rest and orange juice?â
Liz crossed one ankle over the other with a natural grace. âWe havenât had a chance to visit in a while. How are you feeling, Fay?â
âOther than wishing for a week where I could do nothing but sleep, Iâm fine. Like I told your nurse, the dizziness comes and goes, and itâd be nice to eat something more substantial than soup and crackers. The news predicted a terrible flu season that would carry on into spring. They werenât kidding.â
âIâm talking about how youâre doing emotionally.â The older woman glanced pointedly at Fayâs lap. âI notice you havenât gone back to wearing your wedding rings.â
Fay clenched her battle-scarred florist hands, her thumb and forefinger automatically rubbing at the indentation on her left hand that was almost gone. âI told you that I decided to take them off back around Christmas.â
âUnderstandable. Scott had been gone for six months by then.â
Understandable after sheâd discovered the lies and secrets her late husband had left in the wake of his death last summer. After fifteen years of marriage, sheâd thought neither of them had the ability to surprise each other anymore.
Sheâd been wrong and trying to recover ever since.
âYou said you were wearing them on a chain around your neck instead.â Lizâs gaze moved over the open collar of Fayâs blouse. âI see thatâs gone now, too.â
Yes, the chain and her rings were buried in the bottom of her jewelry box, along with her husbandâs dog tags.
Ever since that night two months ago.
Ever since Adam Murphy.
âAre you involved with anyone?â Liz asked.
âWhat?â Her friendâs question jolted Fay from her thoughts. âNo, of course not. Just because I decidedâ That doesnât mean Iâmââ Fay realized she was babbling and paused, fought for a controlled breath and then continued. âDating isnât something Iâm even thinking about.â
âI know things have been difficult, but itâs okay to move on. Next month will make it a year since Scott died. Finding someone new to spend time with, maybe even thinking about fallingââ
âLiz, between trying to hold on to my business and sorting out the colossal mess Scottâs creative financing left me, my lifeâs been nothing but chaos for the last year. Believe me, Iâm working hard at moving on.â
âI meant with a man.â
Fay let loose a bark of laughter that wasnât close to being humorous. âI know what you meant, but no.â
âSweetie, then this is going to be a shock.â Liz placed the folder she was holding in her lap and reached out, laying a comforting hand on her arm. âYou donât have the flu. Youâre pregnant.â
Her friendâs words echoed in Fayâs ears, each time becoming more muted and garbled.
She hadnât heard her friend correctly.
There was no way sheâd heard correctly.
âYou must be wrong.â Fay shook her head. âI only have one working ovary, remember? An ovary that works at a reduced capacity making it impossible for me to get pregââ She bit off the word, unable to say it aloud. âYou said so yourself.â
âI told you years ago that pregnancy was improbable, especially when Scott refused to have any testing done. As you know, your inability to conceive for all those years could have been just as much him.â Liz tightened her fingers in a gentle squeeze. âThe test results are positive. You are pregnant.â
A baby. After years of wanting, desperately wanting a child and nowâŚ
âWe can discuss your options. Out of the office if that would be better.â
Fayâs hands automatically flattened low over her belly. âOptions?â
âYou just said you arenât involved with anyone. Did somethingâŚhappen?â
âSomething?â
Lizâs gaze filled with concern. âHoney, were you hurt or forcedââ
âNo, no, of course not.â Fayâs protest came swiftly, just like the eight-week-old memories from those passion-filled, guilt-ridden hours spent in Adamâs arms. âI wasâ I mean, it was unplanned and impulsive, but I knew what I was doing.â
Yes, she certainly had.
Sleeping with her dead husbandâs best friend, someone who was once her good friend as well, was the real reason Fay no longer wore her rings.
Not after the way sheâd straddled Adamâs lap and helped him yank her sweater over her head. Eagerness had her bracing her hands on his wide shoulders, leaning forward to take his mouth again only to have the twin gold bands, one with a marquise-shaped diamond, dangle between them.
Theyâd brushed against Adamâs jaw and heâd fisted them, asking in that deep, guttural tone of his if she was sure about what they were doing.
If she knew who she was with.
You, Adam. I want you.
A heated blush raced up Fayâs neck until it reached her cheeks. The memory of that night, and the way sheâd run out on him the next morning after learning Adam was heading back overseas, back to his Air Force reserve unit, the same unit her husband had served with until his death, was as fresh and real as if it had happened only last night.
Of course, in her dreams it had.
âThis is a shock, I realize that.â Liz offered a warm smile, her words forcing Fay to push away the memories. âTake your time to think about your next step.â
âIâm having this baby.â
The words were soft, but spoken with a sense of purpose Fay hadnât felt in a long time. No hesitation, no question about right or wrong, no reason for her to think about this at all.
She squared her shoulders and righted her posture. âI want thisâmy baby. Iâm keeping my baby.â
âAnd the father?â
A wave of dizziness washed over her. Fay swallowed hard to maintain her equilibrium as her heart pounded in her chest and a rush of heat again stole over her body.
Adam Murphy was due to return to Destiny from his last tour in Afghanistan in a couple of weeks. How was she going to tell the man she blamed for her husbandâs death he was going to be the father of her child?
* * *
âHey, soldier, donât I know you from somewhere?â
Master Sergeant Adam Murphy squared his shoulders and stood a bit taller, but he didnât turn around.
He knew that voice.
There were only six possible people it could belong to. People who, according to his mother, all shared the same low masculine growl that could soothe a skittish horse or sweet-talk a girl out of her better judgment.
It had to be one of his five younger brothers or their dad.
Which one had spotted him standing here, in front of the beer cooler at a convenience mart on the outskirts of Cheyenne of all places, he didnât know. He hoped it was Devlin, the brother he was closest to despite there being one other between them in ages. Or maybe it was Ric, the youngest, whom Adam had bossed around like a second father. Heâd been fourteen when the kid was born.
Geez, he felt old.
He turned, bracing himself, and found Dev grinning at him.
âHey, bro.â
âWhat the hell are you doing here?â Adam asked.
âShouldnât I be asking you that question?â
Dev lunged, pulling him into a bear hug that Adam returned with ease. He blinked hard against the sudden sting in his eyes, giving his brother a few extra hardy thumps to the back before they broke apart.
âDamn, itâs good to see you,â Dev said. âWhat are you doing in Cheyenne? You werenât due back from Afghanistan for another ten days or so.â
âThe entire unit is coming back sooner than scheduled, in less than a week, but I was able to catch an earlier ride home.â
Dev arched one eyebrow. âAnd you didnât bother to let anyone in the family know?â
âIt was last-minute, and I couldâve gotten bumped off the flight anywhere along the way.â Adam had hoped to slip back into town without anyone finding out. He didnât want to explain how heâd finagled avoiding the pageantry of his unitâs arrival at the air base after being overseas for the past year and a half. âThe plane finally landed at Camp Guernsey a few hours ago. I caught a ride with a retired vet who was heading toward Destiny.â
His brother peered around Adamâs shoulder at the rows of ice-cold beers in the refrigerated unit behind him. âAnd the two of you decided to stop and pick up a few brews?â
âHe decided,â Adam said. âI was just admiring the view.â
Dev smiled and seconds later had a twelve-pack tucked under his arm. âCome on, I think youâve earned this.â
âYou sure?â Dev had walked away from booze years ago after finally admitting his nightly partying led to nothing but sleepovers at the local jail and finally AA meetings. Adam didnât want to tempt him.
âHey, this is all for you, bro.â Dev offered an easy smile. âCome on, letâs find your Good Samaritan and let him know youâve got a new taxi service.â
Knowing it was useless to argue with a Murphy, Adam only nodded. He thanked the old man as he pulled his duffel from the back of his pickup and tossed it into his brotherâs Jeep.
The ride home took almost an hour and Adam was grateful when Dev used that time to do what he did best. Talk. He jumped from subject to subject, mostly getting Adam caught up on all heâd missed while serving his last tour.
Yes, heâd been home two months ago, once again as an escort bringing home a deceased member of his command at the request of a grieving family in Cheyenne. Heâd managed to add two days in Destiny, long enough to share a couple of meals with the family.
And an amazing night with the one woman heâd always wanted.
And could never have.
But he did have her. And sheâd had him. For a few incredible hours on a makeshift bed in his living room in front of a blazing fire. Theyâd had each other.
Adam turned to the window, closed his eyes and inhaled sharply, certain he could still smell the clean, flowery scent that always surrounded Fay.
Heâd answered the pounding on his front door that rainy night, wearing nothing but hastily buttoned jeans and a bemused expression.
Fay had stormed into his living room, hair and clothes damp. Shocked that sheâd known he was in town, heâd only stood there and listened as she ranted and raved, releasing all her anger and grief as she blamed him for her husbandâs death the previous summer.
Heâd escorted Scottâs body home and stayed for the services, but he and Fay had hardly spoken to each other that hot July day. Sheâd certainly made up for the lapse that night, but hell, she didnât say anything to him that he hadnât been telling himself.
So he let her talk. But Fay had worked herself into a frenzy while she paced, not paying attention to what she was doing or where she was walking. When she tripped over his duffel bag, heâd reached out and caught her, pulling her hard to his chest. Off balance, they fell together onto the couch.
Her words disappeared, leaving only choppy breaths that had torched his bare skin like fire. Her fingertips pressed against his chest and not kissing her had been damn near impossibleâ
âHey, bro. You okay?â
Adam jerked his head around.
Blinking away the memories, he forced words past the hard lump in his throat. âWhat? Yeah, Iâm fine.â
âYouâre looking a bit pasty.â Dev turned his attention from the road to look at him. âWhat are you thinking about?â
Shaking his head, Adam noticed theyâd already driven through the center of Destiny, right past Fayâs shop, and he hadnât even noticed.
He yanked his BDUâBattle Dress Uniformâcap farther down over his forehead. âNothing. Go on, keep talking.â
Dev rattled on about the family business, Murphy Mountain Log Homes, and how well things were going even in the current uncertain economic times.
Designing and building a log mansion for local racing champion Bobby Winslow last year had brought in a slew of new customers from all over the country, each with money to spend on their dream home.
Like his parents and five brothers, Adam was a part owner, but much to his fatherâs dismay heâd walked away from any involvement in the day-to-day running of the business years ago, leaving his younger brothers to fill key management roles.
âIs it too soon to bug you about your plans?â Devlin asked.
âSleep.â
âI mean now that youâre home. For good. Youâre still set to retire, right?â
Adam nodded. Heâd recently completed twenty years in the Air Force reserves, most of the last four years spent more soldier than civilian. Thanks to the unused leave time heâd accumulated he was essentially out of the military with his official retirement set to take place in a few months.
He was ready to return to his first love, ranching.
Right after college heâd purchased a share of the familyâs holdings from his father with the dream of raising horses and cattle. But other than building his log home, life had gotten in the way of his plans. Now, it was time to make that dream a reality by putting the pastures and the section of the Blue Creek River that cut through his land to good use.
Devlin slowed at a crossroads. A right turn would lead them to the family compound and company headquarters. He looked at Adam and offered an arched brow as if he already knew what the answer would be.
Adam pointed left. âIâve been up almost twenty-four hours straight. I need sack time more than anything else right now.â
His brother steered them down the road to Adamâs place. The closer they got, the more restless he grew to see his home again. He rolled down the window, letting a cool summer breeze wash over him. Itâd been blisteringly hot in Afghanistan when heâd boarded the military transport, but here in Destiny, tucked up against the foothills of the Laramie Mountains, it was a perfect day with lots of sunshine, green trees and the fresh, earthy scent of the great outdoors.
This return was different.
This time he was home for good.
All he wanted was the chance to start his life over again. Alone. Nothing to concentrate on but his land. He was sure his father would try to get him involved in the family business again and his mother would drop hints about wanting her eldest settled with a nice girl.
Been there, done that, and Adam still had the battle scars to prove marriage, kids and a nine-to-five job werenât for him. Spending as much time alone working on his ranch was the perfect plan.
At some point, heâd have to find a way to make things right with Fay, but there wasnât any rush. Destiny wasnât a big town, but he could keep out of her way, positive she wasnât in any hurry to spend time with him.
Not after the way sheâd torn out of his place when sheâd awakened to find him dressed in his uniform ready to head back overseas.
No, Fay Coggen had made it perfectly clear two months ago she wanted nothing more to do with him.
He may not like it, but heâd learn to live with it.
Devlin pulled into the driveway and cut the engine.
Realizing his brother planned to come inside, Adam sighed and punched in the code on his cell phone to deactivate his homeâs security system. âI should warn you, the place is probably a mess.â
He couldnât remember if heâd washed up the dirty dishes from his visit or even taken out the trash, but for certain the nest of blankets and pillows he and Fay had made love on were still strewn across his living room floor.
Dev joined him on the covered porch that ran the entire circumference of his log home, the twelve-pack of Guinness balanced in the crook of his arm, and rolled his eyes. âYeah, Iâd forgotten how much of a dump the old homestead is.â
Retrieving a spare key from behind a bench, Adam paused and looked out over his front yard. The large area thrived with clusters of cottonwoods, freshly mowed grass and trimmed bushes. A recently mulched area with brightly colored flowers was new.
He figured he had his family to thank for that and for the upkeep. A nearby barn and horse corral could use some work, and beyond that lay a hundred and eighty acres ready for hay meadows, horses and cattle-grazing.
âIâm talking about inside my place, moron.â Adam dropped his duffel to the floor. âItâs going to need airing out if nothing else. I left in a rush.â
Dev leaned over and grabbed the bag. âItâs a good thing the folks are still trolling around the Southwest in their RV. Thereâd be hell to pay if they knew you were home and hiding from everyone.â
âI need some downtime.â Adam opened the door and stepped inside. âA day or two by myself before⌠What the hell?â
Dev sidestepped behind him. âWhoa, donât want to drop the cargo.â
Adam looked around.
Bright sunshine spilled through squeaky-clean windows, filling the large dining and living room with light. Tabletops gleamed and a lemony scent lingered in the air. The area in front of the fireplace held nothing but the Navajo-print rug and the oversize furniture that had been rearranged to allow better viewing of both the flat screen television and the fireplace.
No sign of his and Fayâs impromptu bed.
Adam walked in farther and a quick glance at his kitchen revealed that the appliances and countertops shined as if theyâd never been used. The dining table, once covered with stacks of laundry, now held only a potted plantâone still alive, at thatâand a neat pile of mail.
His place was spotless.
âLooks like your fairy godmother knew you were coming.â Dev walked into the kitchen and placed the beer in the refrigerator. âGeez, youâve even got orange juice and tubs of butter in here.â
Adam shook his head. âWho couldâve done this?â
âAre you kidding?â Dev tossed a beer at him, then opened a bottled water for himself. âThis has Mom written all over it.â
Adam easily caught the bottle one-handed, then set it on the table behind the couch. âI talked to Mom a few days ago. She never said anything. Do you think it could be one of the guys or Laurie?â
âLaurieâs been busy crunching the numbers for a hot new account.â Dev headed for the couch. âMom did a good job making sure we boys all knew how to cook a hot dog and wash dishes, but clean like this? Forget it.â
Adam headed down the hall as his brother continued to ramble. He peeked into the two spare bedrooms, pausing for a long moment in the doorway of the smallest one, still empty except for the gleaming hardwood floor, before walking into his own room.
His king-size bed looked like something out of a hotel, the blankets neatly tucked and folded and his pillows propped against the hand-hewn timber headboard. A quick stop in the master bathroom showed him the same meticulous care had been taken in there as well.
Peeling off his cap and outer camouflage shirt, he tossed both onto a nearby chair. Hands braced on his hips, he pulled in a few deep breaths, enjoying the silence as finally being home sunk in.
Gone was the constant noise of construction vehicles, twelve-hour workdays and the dust that covered everything at Bagram Airfield.
It wasnât even fifteen hundredâthree oâclock in the civilian worldâand Adam wanted nothing more than to darken the blinds and dive headfirst into bed. He turned instead and headed back to the main living area.
Grabbing the beer heâd left behind, he joined his brother on the couch.
âBoy, you suddenly look like youâve been to hell and back,â Dev said. âFitting, I guess.â
Adam sank into the cushions, leaned back and closed his eyes. âYeah, I guess.â
Heâd been certain memories of his time in the sandbox would be crowding his head even though he was finally stateside, much like heâd relived that night heâd spent with Fay over and over again while lying in his bunk in Afghanistan.
But they werenât.
Despite his earlier resolve not to dwell on Fay, now that he was back in his own home, all he could think about was what had happened right here eight weeks ago.
Him and Fay. Together.
Finally.
Heâd been head over heels for the tiny brunette with long curly hair the moment heâd literally run into her, years ago in the hallways of Destiny High School.
Sheâd laughed as he lay sprawled at her feet. Two years younger, Fay had been new in town. Heâd given the pretty sophomore a quick tour of the building that ended at the school gym, where theyâd run into Scott.
And just like that, Adam had faded into the background.
His best friend, and the star quarterback, Scott Coggen had latched his sights on Fay and the rest was history. By the time he and Scott were juniors at the University of Wyoming, Fay was sporting a diamond on her left hand.
Adam felt the beer being lifted from his fingers. He jerked upright, his hand tightening as his eyes flew open. âHey!â
âEasy, bro.â Dev released the bottle and held up both hands in surrender. âJust trying to save a spill. I thought youâd fallen asleep on me.â
Had he? Adam honestly didnât know. âSorry. Maybe I did.â
âLook, Iâm going to head out and let you get comatose for a while.â His brother backed up to the front door. âThe folks are due back the day after tomorrow. You plan to be at the house to welcome them home?â
Adam nodded, pushing himself to his feet, his legs like dead weights. âYeah, Iâll be there. And thanks for keeping my return to yourself for now. One Murphy brother is about all I can handle at the moment.â
âConsidering Iâm your favorite, Iâll keep your secret.â Dev grinned. âGive me a call if you need anything.â
A smile creased Adamâs face. âThanks, I will.â
After Dev left, Adam poured out his untouched beer, grabbed a water bottle instead and punched in the code on his security system. Minutes later, he stripped down and crawled between the crisp, cool sheets and buried his face in a pillow that smelled like sweet lavender.
Smelled like Fay.
It was his last conscious thought before he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. He woke up once, the room dark and the clock on his nightstand flashing 2:49 a.m. The next time he cracked an eyelid, the sun was inching around the edges of the window blinds.
Wow, almost ten in the morning. Heâd slept over eighteen hours.
Sitting up, he stretched his neck and back while listening to his thirty-eight-year-old body creak and moan as he slowly came to life.
A shower. Lingering beneath the hot spray of his own shower sounded like a slice of heaven. Adam reached into the closest dresser drawer and pulled out a clean T-shirt, jeans and briefs.
Entering the bathroom, he eyed the large whirlpool tub, realizing for the first time heâd never used it in all the years heâd lived here. Tempting, but chances were heâd fall back asleep and probably drown in the process.
Minutes later he stood, hands braced against the tile wall as hot water pounded his neck and shoulders, washing away the soapy residue. Steam filled the glass enclosure and he breathed deeply, pulling the moist air into his lungs and letting it seep into every pore.
When the water cooled, he turned it off and stepped out. Grabbing a nearby towel, he quickly dried, pausing when he heard a low-pitched creaking. He listened intently, but only silence filled the house. After walking naked back into his bedroom, he pulled on his briefs and heard the creak again.
No, that was footsteps.
It had to be Devlin. He was the only one who could override the security system. Exasperation surged inside him. Hadnât he made it clear he wanted to be left alone?
âOh, shoot! Come on, please cooperate.â
The words carried down the hall from the main room. Someone was in his house. A female someone.
The sound of an object shattering and a high-pitched cry had Adam racing down the hall. He entered the living room and found a woman, bent at the waist and clutching one of the stools at the kitchen counter. By her feet lay the remains of a large plant, its bright green leaves and pieces of the broken ceramic pot scattered across the floor.
His anger disappeared and concern took its place. âHey, are you okay?â
The woman jerked upright and spun around.
Adam stared, the blow to the gut more powerful than any physical contact. Was she a figment of his imagination?
He blinked hard to erase her image. Nope, she still stood less than three feet away from him.
Golden brown curls, pulled back in a messy ponytail, whipped against one cheek. Dark smudges beneath her wide hazel eyes spoke of sleepless nights. She wore a pale green T-shirt with Fayâs Flowers printed across her curves and jean shorts that showed off miles of leg.
One hand pressed against her stomach and as her eyes widened at the sight of him, her other hand quickly covered the first.
Just as beautiful as he remembered.
âFay.â
Her skin paled even more the moment he spoke her name.
âWhatââ Adam voice caught and damn if he didnât have to start again. âWhat are you doing here?â
