Page 74 of Surprise Baby for Mr. Fischer
“I know we haven’t known each other long, but we’ve spent pretty much every day together since I got here. We have incredible chemistry, and we genuinely like each other.”
“We do,” she whispered.
Her brief answer drove me crazy. I volleyed between frustration and annoyance at her response. I glanced over at her. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she gazed out the window.
Was she nervous?
“It’s more than some people start with, you know.” I sighed. “You’re so quiet.”
She turned to me. “What do you want me to say, Lincoln? Yes, I like you. Yes, physically, we’re extremely compatible, and each thing I find out about you has me liking you more. Yet—”
“Yet, what?” I asked softly. My body tensed, waiting for her answer, knowing it could change the trajectory of our tenuous relationship.
“Right now, we can forget about the outside world, but what happens when we can’t do that anymore? Someone will figure out you’re here for more than a vacation, and then what? It’s like we’re in this little bubble, and at some point, it’s going to pop. Knowing we have an expiration date scares me.”
“You’re right. We can’t hide our relationship forever, but I want the chance to see if we can be more for the baby, and for us. Don't you? No relationship has a guarantee. We have to work at it.”
She bit her lip and turned her head to face me. “I don’t know if I can.”
My shoulders sunk low. “Why not?”
“Lincoln, I don’t know if I can survive the life you have, and I don’t want to subject our child to it. After what happened to me ...”
I clenched my teeth together hard enough my jaw hurt. I welcomed the pain, knowing there was nothing I could say to change her mind. Didn’t she see that she was letting her past control our future? What was worse was knowing I had no way to guarantee the media wouldn’t do exactly what she worried about.
“Harper. I understand your fear, and I can’t promise you that it won’t come true, but where does that leave us?” I thought she understood what I meant at the ultrasound appointment when I said I was in this for the long haul. I didn't plan on going anywhere. I wanted to be a part of our child’s life. I wanted to create a family with her.
“I don’t know. Can’t we just keep going like we are for now and give ourselves more time to think it through?”
Or more time for you to back away.It hurt that Harper wasn’t willing to fight for us, so I had to be the one to do it. I forced myself to nod. “Okay, sure.”
Her tense shoulders smoothed out, and a tiny puff of breath escaped her mouth. The sound grated on my nerves. I wanted her to be happy about the possibility of us, not glad we kept our relationship a secret.
A heavy feeling filled the car. Silence remained the rest of the drive to her parent’s house. Our hands still clasped together let me believe she didn’t want whatever this was between us to end either.
We needed time. She needed more time to realize that what we had was worth fighting for, and I needed time to create a plan to keep the media away from Harper and our baby.
***
THE ROOM WAS CAST INa pale yellow glow from the lamps lit. Outside the large livingroom window the spotlights shown on the snowflakes that swirled and fell to the ground. Our earlier conversation forgotten, I shifted my body to work out the cramp in my shoulder. My arm reached out over the eight-foot tree to place the star on top at just the right angle.
“A little to the left,” Harper instructed from below while she sipped on hot chocolate. She’d begged me to be the one to place the star, informing me that it was “her job” when she and her family decorated their tree. Not even her sexy little pout could sway me. I was not about to have her, while pregnant, climb a ladder. “Now a tad to the right.”
“Harper—” I growled. We’d been at this for the last five minutes. I wondered if she was torturing me just for the fun of it.
She snorted and tried to hide her laughter. She was totally fucking with me. With a grin, I plopped the star on top. Wherever it landed was its home until just after Christmas.
I climbed down the ladder and pulled her into my arms. Her back rested against me, and she laid her arms on top of mine as I gently cradled her bump. We stood there, basking in our handiwork. The colorful lights glowed and reflected off the mishmash of ornaments hanging from the tree’s limbs.
“I love it.” Harper sighed a happy little sound.
“Me too.” I especially loved the small ornaments that her parents had included that were made by Harper. A hand-drawn reindeer with a picture of a toothless Harper for its head, a few pipe cleaner candy canes, and a popsicle stick frame of her and her sisters.
“What are your traditions around Christmas?” she asked.
I took a second, trying to figure out what to share. “When I was little, it was hit or miss with my parents and whether or not they realized it was Christmas.”
Harper made a distressed sound.
