Zack Baker

“Where have you been?”

Tegan slid the bags of groceries onto the kitchen table, the lullaby she was humming drifting into silence.

After three weeks of marriage, she’d learned to recognize his stance.

The ticking pulse in his temple churned wit his restrained anger, and the sting of a whiplash laced his words.

With a deep sigh, she leaned against the counter. “To town,” she said unnecessarily. “Shopping. I was buying things for the nursery and getting ingredients for dinner.”

He took a step toward her, then another. His heat seared her, but she tipped back her head, meeting his glance.

“You have me to carry groceries.”

“I know.”

Shoes scraping the hardwood floor, he took another step. “That is, if it didn’t occur to you to ask your husband for help.”

This close, she saw how hard Zack fought to control his temper. Hers flared to match it. “I didn’t know I had to answer to you for every one of my moves.”

“You don’t.”

Her eyebrows drew together in frustration. “Then..?”

“I don’t want my pregnant wife hauling heavy bags around.”

“It’s food, Zack, not concrete.”

“You could have asked for help.”

“I tried to find you before I left, and I couldn’t. I didn’t know where you were.”

“And you couldn’t wait?”

“No. Not if you wanted dinner on the table.”

“I didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?”

“I don’t expect you to have dinner on the table when I come in.”

“You don’t?”

“Tegan, damn you, you—the baby—that’s what’s important.” He devoured the rest of the space separating them. “I’ve lived alone most of my life. I can cook, I can clean, I can even do laundry.” He took hold of her upper arms. “I didn’t marry you to wait on me. Get this through your head—I’m not Aaron. You weren’t married to him. You were in a trap.”

“Is there a difference?” She hadn’t mean to ask the question aloud, but there it was.

When she exchanged vows with Aaron, she hadn’t realized he’d take the obey part so seriously. She’d loved him, wanted their relationship to work. Love hadn’t been enough.

“I don’t want to run your life, Tegan, and you’re free to come and go anytime you want. This is a partnership, not a dictatorship.” Zack exhaled deeply, and his shoulders relaxed as if anger drained. “When you leave, I want you to write a not…not because you have to answer to me, but because it’s common courtesy. And I’ll leave you one when I go somewhere.”

His grip on her relaxed. “Don’t shut me out, Tegan. I won’t let you.”

“You’re being unfair, Zack. I wasn’t shutting you out. If you’d open your eyes, you’d see that. I need your trust. In fact, I demand it. Without it, this marriage doesn’t stand a chance.” After sighing, she said, “I’ll leave notes in the future, but if I forget, you can’t make these kind of assumptions again.

“I don’t give myself to men easily. You of all people should know that.”

He raked his fingers against his scalp. “Damn it, Tegan, I was worried about you.”

She exhaled, seeing past her own reaction and looking into his eyes. She saw spikes of fear there. “This isn’t about trust?”

“No. I was worried that you might be at the doctor’s, that you might be hurt.”

“I misunderstood.”

“yeah, you did. Let me help you, Tegan. Let me be your partner, not some man you’re comparing me to.”

She moved her fingertips down the side of his cheek, feeling the tension in his jaw. “I’m—“

“Don’t apologize,” he interrupted softly. “Let me welcome you home properly.”

He kissed her long and deep, leaving her reeling.

When had he become so important to her? If only he returned the feelings. But she didn’t dare show it, didn’t dare run the risk of loving a man who would never return the feelings. For her own sake, she should continue on the way they were. Until now, she just had no idea how difficult that might be.

“You said you were getting stuff for the nursery?”

“I bought a quilt for the crib and a stuffed toy.”

“What kind of toy?”

“A Santa Claus,” she said. “So that our baby will always believe, too.”

“With a mom like you, how could our child not believe?”

Together, they went upstairs and added her purchases to the nursery they’d started to redecorate. He hadn’t complained once when they looked at wallpaper samples, lamps, furniture, even blankets.

When she suggested they do anything that had to do with their baby, he always agreed. If her first husband had cared a fraction as much, she would never have left him.

“While I was in town, I also stopped in at the flower shop.”

His hand was curved around the crib railing.

“Beth’s swamped.”

“And?”

“I’m thinking of going back to work.”

“I’d prefer you didn’t”

“This is a partnership,” she reminded him, digging her hands into her shorts’ pocket and finding his lucky penny. “Not a dictatorship.”

“Damn it, Tegan. I don’t like it.”

“I’m sorry, Zack. I really didn’t think you’d like the idea.”

“But that’s not going to change your mind.”

She shook her head gently. “No.”

A thousand different emotions pushed through him. He didn’t want her running herself ragged.

She worked hard at the flower store, carrying heavy things, standing on her feet all day. No. He definitely didn’t like it.

“This was how it started,” she said softly, “with Zack.”

“Not another word,” Zack warned, the words of a low growl from his gut.

“This is important to me,” she said. “It’s my business, something I love doing. If you mean it, that this is a partnership, then you have to understand I can’t just walk away from the shop without looking back.”

“I’m not asking you to. You can go back right after the baby’s born.”

“Zack, I can’t stay home all day. I’ll go crazy.”

“Then work for me.”

“What?”

“You can do my books, take over ordering things, help with the administrative side of running the clothing line.”

“Zack—“

“Tegan, listen—“

“In our marriage vows, you said you wouldn’t ask me to give up who I am. Remember?” Without another word, she left the room.

He heard her on the stairs, then the sound of her closing him out of their bedroom.

He just prayed it wasn’t the start of her closing him out of her life, the way Gena had done.

This time, he wouldn’t be so blind. With Gena, he’d been wrapped up in music and the line and ended up working eighteen hour days, falling into bed exhausted. He hadn’t paid attention to the hour she left or the time she returned. The more she was gone, the more he’d withdrawn, until she ended up sleeping with another man.

He wouldn’t allow that to happen with Tegan. Their marriage meant too much.

So how did he learn to compromise, without losing?

Lunch was a good place to start, he decided the next day.

He returned to the ranch house at noontime, surprised to notice how quiet it was without her.

How lonely it was without her.

Lonely? Hell, it wasn’t lonely. He’d never been lonely his entire life. Wasn’t about to start now.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t married.

He drove into town, stopping by a little market and hoping to sweet-talk Megan into making him a picnic basket to go.

“Men. Think they can get a woman to do anything, if they just ask nice enough.”

“Does it work?” he asked hopefully.

“I’m supposing it might,” she grumbled. “Next time, mind you, I’d like a bit of warning. I do have other customers, you know.”

When she gave him the basket—one like she used for special occasions—he surprised them both by kissing her on the cheek.

She brandished a wooden spoon with a beaming smile. “Go on with you.”

When he arrived at Huntington’s Flowers, it was to find Tegan talking to a customer, a false smile on her tired face. She’d slipped off her shoes and her shoulders were slightly slumped.

Grinding his teeth, he said nothing.

When she looked up and saw him, her exhaustion faded. She smiled, and it lit her eyes with hazel flecks. A physical response tightened his insides, making him instantly ready.

A few minutes later, he was alone with his wife.

“Brought you some lunch.”

“How’d you know I’d be hungry?”

“Lucky guess.”

“There’s a break room in the back. We can eat there.”

She didn’t even get to eat half a sandwich before the bell on the front door jingled.

“Can’t people grow their own damn flowers?”

“Zack! Behave yourself. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Impatiently he waited.

“Your blouse is starting to get tight across the front,” he observed a few minutes later.

“Guess I’ll need to buy some new clothes.”

“New bras, too?”

“Didn’t I tell you to behave?”

“Me? I was just offering to take you shopping, as long as you’re willing to model.”

“You’re impossible.”

He grinned. “Yeah. Now sit and eat.”

She took the chair across from him, and he reached for her feet, pulling them onto his lap and rubbing them.

Closing her eyes, she sighed contentedly.

“New shoes are a good idea,” she said a few minutes later. “Maybe pants, too.”

“When do you want to go?”

“Shopping?” she asked, nearly purring. “You’re not serious?”

“Sure.”

“Men don’t like to go shopping,” she said.

“I’ll pick you up at four.”

“I get off at five.”

“I’ll pick you up at four,” he reiterated.

“You’re being impossible again.”

“You wouldn’t know what to do with me if I wasn’t.”

“Maybe you’re right,” she agreed.

He was glad he came at four. Exhaustion had sapped all her color, and her smile was more delicate than an orchid petal. “I’m taking my wife home,” he told Beth.

“I told her to go home two hours ago. She’s stubborn.”

“Never noticed.”

“Thought we were going shopping,” Tegan said when he headed for the outskirts of town.

“Thought it would be better if you rested.”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re bossy?”

Zack smiled. “Maybe a time to two.”

By the time they arrived home, she was fighting to keep her eyes open.

“We can eat in the living room,” he said.

“What do you want me to fix for dinner?”

“Got it handled,” he said. “Tomato soup, from a can, and grilled cheese sandwiches.”

“Sounds like heaven. You’re a man after my heart, Zack.”

Maybe he was. And he wondered if he’d ever get it.

“You don’t need any help?”

“Told you I could cook,” he said.

“But you never said you were a gourmet.”

He smiled. If he’d been picking women to have his baby, he couldn’t have done a much better job.

After dinner he eyelids drooped, and he sent her off to the bathtub. He gave her a few minutes of privacy before impatience rattled him.

He knocked the door, and without waiting for an answer, went in.

She lounged against the rim, and now that she’d washed off her makeup, he saw the shadows lurking beneath her eyes. She was working too hard, damn it, and he didn’t know what in the name of God’s fertile earth he was supposed to do about it.

He’d never felt more helpless, and that led to frustration. What he wouldn’t give to wrap her in a cocoon of rest and relaxation. Instead, he did what he could, tamping down his natural—bossy—urges.

“Lean forward,” he said, reaching for a bar of soap. “I’ll wash your back.”

“You’re spoiling me.”

“You deserve it.”

She sighed softly, and he noticed the way a damp tendril of her hair curved across her nape. As if hypnotized, he lifted the curl and kissed the wet skin.

“Oh, Zack.”

He adjusted the front of his jeans. Just touching her aroused him. He shoved aside the nagging voice that told him it went beyond physical attraction, that it was something deeper than her carrying his child that drew him to her.

“Time for bed,” he said.

“I’m already half-asleep.”

He knew. He grabbed a fluffy towel from the linen closet. Holding it with one hand, he reached for her with the other.

“I could get to like this attention.”

“So could I,” he said. “So could I.”

Instead of just wrapping her in the terry cloth, he dried her.

Her breath caught in her throat when he rubbed the nubby material across her nipples. Instantly they responded, hardening, thickening, reaching toward him. With a gentle squeeze, he closed his thumb and forefinger around a sensitive tip. “Are you going to breast-feed?”

“I want to.”

The idea of his child suckling at her trustingly, with complete love, stole his breath.

“What do you think?”

“Me?”

She blushed, color flooding her cheeks. “It’ll be your baby, too.”

“If you wanted to just bottle-feed, that would be okay.”

“But…”

With tenderness, he cupped her breasts, delighting in their feel, the heaviness, the changes his child brought to her body. “I thank you for wanting to do that for our baby.” He kissed her breasts, but when she shivered, he knew he needed to dry her completely.

He toweled her abdomen, noting the contours weren’t quite as flat as they had been before. “You’re showing more and more.”

“You sound…”

“Proud. Honored.”

“We’ll see if you feel that way in a few months, when I’m too big to tie my own shoes.”

“More so,” he said. “And I’ll tie them for you.” Dropping to his knees, he dried between the legs, then there, making her squirm.

“I don’t know—“

He looked up at her.

“—that getting dry could be such a sensual experience.”

He hadn’t, either.

He hadn’t known, either, how much he liked caring for another human being. After Gena left, taking Shanna from his life, he’d sworn he’d never be vulnerable again. Now he wasn’t so sure.

“Bedtime,” he said.

“But it’s not even dark.”

“And you’re not tired?”

She pulled the pins from her hair, letting the silky brown strands fall around her face. “Maybe just a little,” she admitted.

In their room, he took out her nightgown and pulled it over her head.

“You don’t want to make love?” she asked around a yawn.

“Yeah, I do.” Just her mention of it had him thrusting against his zipper. “Tomorrow.” He wondered when he’d become so noble.

He ticked her in, and he swore she fell asleep smiling.

Restless energy churned inside him and he went downstairs and grabbed a guitar out of a spare room. He walked through the silent house and out the front door to the porch. He sat the wooden swing and began to strum randomly on the acoustic guitar while watching the sunset. He waited for the comforting sounds to south him, but they didn’t come.

Instead, thoughts of Tegan surrounded him. The scent of her, of lavender and hope. The sound of her climax, short bursts of breath, his name whispered in his ear. And the way her body responded to his touch. Her legs wavering and her hands reaching for him…

She made him glad to have found her.

And she made him harder than the seat he was sitting on.

Zack didn’t know what the hell he was going to do about his Tegan. For the first time in his life, he had more questions than answers, and they all centered around one thing: how not to lose the most important person in his life.

If he enforced his will on her, she’d see him as overbearing and controlling, ruining any hope of a long-term relationship. But he couldn’t sit back and watch while she worked herself into exhaustion.

How could he make Tegan understand that he cared about her every bit as much as the baby?

That thought burned like a branding iron.

They wouldn’t be together if it wasn’t for the baby. Sure, she made his blood run hot, but that was all. Beyond great sex and their mutual obligation, they meant nothing to each other.

Zack scowled.

He’d never intended to care for Tegan, hadn’t wanted to care for anyone, ever again. He’d had enough experience with that to last him a couple of lifetimes. But there it was, plain and undeniable, no matter how far or fast her ran.

He wanted his child, but he cared for Tegan.

Those realizations didn’t change anything, they just complicated his life further.

Tegan didn’t want a real relationship. More than once, she’d made that clear.

So that left him…where?

Confused and confounded, he decided, exhaling deeply in the California dusk. Somewhere along the line, things had gotten complicated.

No closer to an answer now than when he’d first sat down on the porch an hour ago, he’d returned inside the house, to find Tegan awake and waiting for him. Silently, she reached for his belt, then his zipper, then him.

Liking this bold Tegan, he communicated with his body what he couldn’t with words—that he cared for her and didn’t intend to let her go.