Having Adam's Baby

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CHRISTYNE BUTLER fell in love with romance novels while serving in the United States Navy and started writing her own stories six years ago. She considers selling to Mills & Boon® Cherish™ a dream come true and enjoys writing contemporary romances full of life, love, a hint of laughter and perhaps a dash of danger, too. And there has to be a happily-ever-after or she’s just not satisfied.

She lives with her family in central Massachusetts and loves to hear from her readers at chris@christynebutler.com. Or visit her website at www.christynebutler.com.

Having Adam’s Baby

Christyne Butler

MILLS & BOON

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“How could I not love a series devoted to my favorite

things—complex families and deep friendships? I’m

so proud to have been a part of this wonderful

tradition at Mills & Boon.”

—Sherryl Woods

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 night’s sleep would probably work wonders, too. After eighteen months, she still wasn’t used to sleeping alone. Even though she’d 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 she’d had for the last two months. With the busy Fourth of July holiday and the one-year anniversary of Scott’s death just a few weeks away, she needed all the energy she could get.

All reasons why she was sitting in her doctor’s 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 she’d hated every moment she’d spent here.

“So sorry to have kept you waiting.” Liz’s lilting voice filled the air as she hustled into the room and closed the door behind her. “I wanted to double-check the test results myself.”

Her friend sat in the matching chair across from Fay, instead of taking her seat behind her desk. Fay smiled. “Over a simple case of the flu? Things must be pretty slow around here. So what are the doctor’s orders? Lots of rest and orange juice?”

Liz crossed one ankle over the other with a natural grace. “We haven’t had a chance to visit in a while. How are you feeling, Fay?”

“Other than wishing for a week where I could do nothing but sleep, I’m fine. Like I told your nurse, the dizziness comes and goes, and it’d 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 weren’t kidding.”

“I’m talking about how you’re doing emotionally.” The older woman glanced pointedly at Fay’s lap. “I notice you haven’t gone back to wearing your wedding rings.”

Fay clenched her battle-scarred florist hands, her thumb and forefinger automatically rubbing at the indentation on her left hand that was almost gone. “I told you that I decided to take them off back around Christmas.”

“Understandable. Scott had been gone for six months by then.”

Understandable after she’d discovered the lies and secrets her late husband had left in the wake of his death last summer. After fifteen years of marriage, she’d thought neither of them had the ability to surprise each other anymore.

She’d been wrong and trying to recover ever since.

“You said you were wearing them on a chain around your neck instead.” Liz’s gaze moved over the open collar of Fay’s blouse. “I see that’s gone now, too.”

Yes, the chain and her rings were buried in the bottom of her jewelry box, along with her husband’s dog tags.

Ever since that night two months ago.

Ever since Adam Murphy.

“Are you involved with anyone?” Liz asked.

“What?” Her friend’s question jolted Fay from her thoughts. “No, of course not. Just because I decided—That doesn’t mean I’m—” Fay realized she was babbling and paused, fought for a controlled breath and then continued. “Dating isn’t something I’m even thinking about.”

“I know things have been difficult, but it’s 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 falling—”

“Liz, between trying to hold on to my business and sorting out the colossal mess Scott’s creative financing left me, my life’s been nothing but chaos for the last year. Believe me, I’m working hard at moving on.”

“I meant with a man.”

Fay let loose a bark of laughter that wasn’t close to being humorous. “I know what you meant, but no.”

“Sweetie, then this is going to be a shock.” Liz placed the folder she was holding in her lap and reached out, laying a comforting hand on her arm. “You don’t have the flu. You’re pregnant.”

Her friend’s words echoed in Fay’s ears, each time becoming more muted and garbled.

She hadn’t heard her friend correctly.

There was no way she’d heard correctly.

“You must be wrong.” Fay shook her head. “I only have one working ovary, remember? An ovary that works at a reduced capacity making it impossible for me to get preg—” She bit off the word, unable to say it aloud. “You said so yourself.”

“I 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.” Liz tightened her fingers in a gentle squeeze. “The test results are positive. You are pregnant.”

A baby. After years of wanting, desperately wanting a child and now …

“We can discuss your options. Out of the office if that would be better.”

Fay’s hands automatically flattened low over her belly. “Options?”

“You just said you aren’t involved with anyone. Did something … happen?”

“Something?”

Liz’s gaze filled with concern. “Honey, were you hurt or forced—”

“No, no, of course not.” Fay’s protest came swiftly, just like the eight-week-old memories from those passion-filled, guilt-ridden hours spent in Adam’s arms. “I was—I mean, it was unplanned and impulsive, but I knew what I was doing.”

Yes, she certainly had.

Sleeping with her dead husband’s 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 she’d straddled Adam’s 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.

They’d brushed against Adam’s jaw and he’d 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 Fay’s neck until it reached her cheeks. The memory of that night, and the way she’d 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.

“This is a shock, I realize that.” Liz offered a warm smile, her words forcing Fay to push away the memories. “Take your time to think about your next step.”

“I’m having this baby.”

The words were soft, but spoken with a sense of purpose Fay hadn’t 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. “I want this—my baby. I’m keeping my baby.”

“And the father?”

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 husband’s death he was going to be the father of her child?

“Hey, soldier, don’t I know you from somewhere?”

Master Sergeant Adam Murphy squared his shoulders and stood a bit taller, but he didn’t 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 didn’t 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. He’d been fourteen when the kid was born.

Geez, he felt old.

He turned, bracing himself, and found Dev grinning at him.

“Hey, bro.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Adam asked.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?”

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.

“Damn, it’s good to see you,” Dev said. “What are you doing in Cheyenne? You weren’t due back from Afghanistan for another ten days or so.”

“The entire unit is coming back sooner than scheduled, in less than a week, but I was able to catch an earlier ride home.”

Dev arched one eyebrow. “And you didn’t bother to let anyone in the family know?”

“It was last-minute, and I could’ve gotten bumped off the flight anywhere along the way.” Adam had hoped to slip back into town without anyone finding out. He didn’t want to explain how he’d finagled avoiding the pageantry of his unit’s arrival at the air base after being overseas for the past year and a half. “The plane finally landed at Camp Guernsey a few hours ago. I caught a ride with a retired vet who was heading toward Destiny.”

His brother peered around Adam’s shoulder at the rows of ice-cold beers in the refrigerated unit behind him. “And the two of you decided to stop and pick up a few brews?”

“He decided,” Adam said. “I was just admiring the view.”

Dev smiled and seconds later had a twelve-pack tucked under his arm. “Come on, I think you’ve earned this.”

“You sure?” 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 didn’t want to tempt him.

“Hey, this is all for you, bro.” Dev offered an easy smile. “Come on, let’s find your Good Samaritan and let him know you’ve got a new taxi service.”

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 brother’s 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 he’d missed while serving his last tour.

Yes, he’d 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. He’d 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 he’d always wanted.

And could never have.

But he did have her. And she’d had him. For a few incredible hours on a makeshift bed in his living room in front of a blazing fire. They’d 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.

He’d 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 she’d known he was in town, he’d only stood there and listened as she ranted and raved, releasing all her anger and grief as she blamed him for her husband’s death the previous summer.

He’d escorted Scott’s body home and stayed for the services, but he and Fay had hardly spoken to each other that hot July day. She’d certainly made up for the lapse that night, but hell, she didn’t say anything to him that he hadn’t 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, he’d 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 impossible—

“Hey, bro. You okay?”

Adam jerked his head around.

Blinking away the memories, he forced words past the hard lump in his throat. “What? Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You’re looking a bit pasty.” Dev turned his attention from the road to look at him. “What are you thinking about?”

Shaking his head, Adam noticed they’d already driven through the center of Destiny, right past Fay’s shop, and he hadn’t even noticed.

He yanked his BDU—Battle Dress Uniform—cap farther down over his forehead. “Nothing. Go on, keep talking.”

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 father’s dismay he’d 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.

“Is it too soon to bug you about your plans?” Devlin asked.

“Sleep.”

“I mean now that you’re home. For good. You’re still set to retire, right?”

Adam nodded. He’d 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 he’d 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 he’d purchased a share of the family’s 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. “I’ve been up almost twenty-four hours straight. I need sack time more than anything else right now.”

His brother steered them down the road to Adam’s 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. It’d been blisteringly hot in Afghanistan when he’d 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 weren’t for him. Spending as much time alone working on his ranch was the perfect plan.

At some point, he’d have to find a way to make things right with Fay, but there wasn’t any rush. Destiny wasn’t a big town, but he could keep out of her way, positive she wasn’t in any hurry to spend time with him.

Not after the way she’d torn out of his place when she’d 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 he’d 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 home’s security system. “I should warn you, the place is probably a mess.”

He couldn’t remember if he’d 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. “Yeah, I’d forgotten how much of a dump the old homestead is.”

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.

“I’m talking about inside my place, moron.” Adam dropped his duffel to the floor. “It’s going to need airing out if nothing else. I left in a rush.”

Dev leaned over and grabbed the bag. “It’s a good thing the folks are still trolling around the Southwest in their RV. There’d be hell to pay if they knew you were home and hiding from everyone.”

“I need some downtime.” Adam opened the door and stepped inside. “A day or two by myself before … What the hell?”

Dev sidestepped behind him. “Whoa, don’t want to drop the cargo.”

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 Fay’s impromptu bed.

Adam walked in farther and a quick glance at his kitchen revealed that the appliances and countertops shined as if they’d never been used. The dining table, once covered with stacks of laundry, now held only a potted plant—one still alive, at that—and a neat pile of mail.

His place was spotless.

“Looks like your fairy godmother knew you were coming.” Dev walked into the kitchen and placed the beer in the refrigerator. “Geez, you’ve even got orange juice and tubs of butter in here.”

Adam shook his head. “Who could’ve done this?”

“Are you kidding?” Dev tossed a beer at him, then opened a bottled water for himself. “This has Mom written all over it.”

Adam easily caught the bottle one-handed, then set it on the table behind the couch. “I talked to Mom a few days ago. She never said anything. Do you think it could be one of the guys or Laurie?”

“Laurie’s been busy crunching the numbers for a hot new account.” Dev headed for the couch. “Mom 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.”

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 wasn’t even fifteen hundred—three o’clock in the civilian world—and 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.