Their Baby Blessing Read online

  Skye wanted to throw up. “You’d bribe her? What court would allow that?”

  A muscle in Mr. Simmons’s jaw knotted. “No one said anything about a bribe.”

  “But that’s what you meant, right?” Skye dug her fingernails into her palms to keep from pounding her fist on the table. “Tell me, how much would you pay her in exchange for her baby?”

  “Skye.” Gage’s voice carried a warning, but she didn’t care. Her body trembled as she leaned across the table.

  “I’m sorry that you lost your son. Truly, I am, but taking Connor away from everything he’s known isn’t in his best interests.”

  “It is reasonable and prudent for us to have visitation rights,” Mrs. Simmons said, her eyes flashing. “You can’t keep him from us.”

  Skye heaved an exasperated breath. “Visitation and custody are not the same.”

  The waiter arrived with their meals, but Skye wasn’t hungry anymore. While Gage attempted to eat, she held Connor and rocked him gently until he fell asleep with his head on her shoulder.

  Mr. and Mrs. Simmons ate in silence. The hum of muffled conversation and silverware clinking against plates filtered around them, and Skye took deep breaths in an effort to calm down. She rested her cheek against Connor’s head as he released a contented sigh.

  They couldn’t take him. Even if she exhausted all her resources, and it was an uphill battle, she’d fight to keep Connor with the only family he’d known.

  * * *

  Early the next morning, Gage helped Mr. Simmons load their luggage into the trunk of their rental car while Mrs. Simmons sat in the passenger seat. They’d spent the whole weekend either talking about Connor or arguing about his care, and never once mentioned Ryan. Gage’s pulse sped. He was almost out of time.

  “I’m sorry.” He scraped his hand across his face as Mr. Simmons slammed the trunk lid closed.

  “What for?”

  “For everything. For not trying harder to save Ryan, for not helping you come to some sort of agreement with Skye and her family about Connor. I—”

  “Listen.” Mr. Simmons’s blue eyes bored into Gage. “We might not agree on much, but I want you to hear me on this. You are not responsible for Ryan’s death. Understand?”

  “I’m afraid you’re wrong, sir. If I had—”

  “Son, I read the report until I had it memorized. Spoke to your former commanding officer and the senior enlisted officer numerous times. Human error, limited budget for our defense department and faulty equipment are responsible for Ryan’s death. Not you.”

  No. Emotion clogged his throat. He should’ve gone back instead of thinking of himself first. If only he’d tried harder, there would’ve been enough time—

  “I can tell you don’t believe me.” Mr. Simmons’s breath left white puffs in the crisp morning air. “Maybe in time you’ll be able to accept what I’ve said and finally forgive yourself. Irene and I certainly don’t hold a grudge. The navy has taken appropriate disciplinary action for the men who messed up that night.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Gage barely choked out the words.

  “It’s unfortunate that you’re caught in the middle of this situation with our grandson.” Mr. Simmons clapped Gage’s shoulder one last time, then circled around to the driver’s side. “I realize you don’t have any skin in the game, and we appreciate you looking out for him anyway.”

  “I’m—”

  “Thanks again. We’ll be in touch.” One last tight smile, an obligatory wave from Mrs. Simmons, and they drove away.

  Gage stared after them in disbelief. No skin in the game? That wasn’t true at all. He loved Connor, and he cared deeply about Skye. The realization stunned him—a one-two punch on the heels of Mr. Simmons’s candid statements about Ryan’s accident.

  If only she cared about him. He’d managed to keep the peace at the restaurant last night, and everyone said goodbye on civil terms, but barely. Thankfully Skye and Connor had come separately, otherwise it might’ve been a very contentious drive to Merritt’s Crossing.

  He shook his head and strode back inside his apartment. She’d had trust issues before Ryan’s parents visited. He could only imagine how she felt after the way they’d behaved. While he hadn’t planned the visit, she no doubt blamed him for his role. Add that to the ever-growing list of reasons why she probably wasn’t a fan of him.

  The week ahead required more studying, completing online assignments and preparing for another climb at the wind farm on Friday. None of that held his attention, though—not with the memory of Skye’s reaction at dinner last night still cycling through his brain. She was right. Bribing McKenna to give up Connor was wrong.

  He went through the motions of cleaning up the breakfast dishes, his new reality weighing like an elephant on his chest. Maybe Mr. and Mrs. Simmons didn’t blame him for Ryan’s death, and the navy had ruled it an accident, but he kept circling back around to the fact that Connor’s life was forever altered by the events of that day.

  After throwing in a load of laundry, he dressed for church. On the way to Merritt’s Crossing Community Church, he prayed and asked for guidance. Doubts threatened his confidence, though. The situation seemed impossible to resolve—at least the resolution he hoped for—he and Skye and Connor all together.

  In the parking lot, he steered his truck into an empty space as Laramie climbed out of her car nearby and then lifted a baby from a car seat—Connor? He glanced around the parking lot. Where was Skye? He cut the engine and hurried to catch up.

  “Laramie,” he called after her. “Hang on.”

  She turned and smiled. Connor’s eyes widened, and he opened and closed his fist in a clumsy wave.

  Gage’s steps faltered. “Nice waving, little dude.”

  “Hey, Gage.” Laramie shifted Connor in her arms. “How’s it going?”

  “Not great.” He palmed his neck. “Did Skye tell you about last night?”

  “She did. Which is why I sent her for a short retreat.”

  “What do you mean? Where is she?”

  “I’m taking care of Connor today, Drew is at home with Mrs. Tomlinson and we sent Skye to Denver.”

  “Oh.” He tried not to let his disappointment show. It was great she was getting away to recharge, but he also wanted to see her. To make sure she was all right, and to talk about what might happen next.

  “You didn’t hear this from me, but her spa appointment is finished at three thirty.” Laramie grinned. “I bet she wouldn’t mind if you were waiting outside to take her to an early dinner.”

  He hesitated. “Are you sure she isn’t sick of me?”

  Connor babbled incessantly, drawing the attention of curious onlookers on their way into the church. What if Skye was angry that he surprised her? Maybe she wanted to be alone and as far away as possible from anything that reminded her of their emotionally draining weekend.

  “One more teeny, tiny hint. There’s a restaurant near Washington Park that she adores.” Laramie fumbled for her phone. “I’ve made a reservation already. Give me a second, and I’ll text you the addresses for the spa and the restaurant.”

  Gage swallowed hard. Dinner reservations. Picking her up at the spa. This had the potential to go off the rails if Skye wasn’t pleased with him hijacking her plans. “If you’re sure—”

  “Trust me.” Laramie gave him a playful shove. “Now, go.”

  “All right, all right.” He jogged back to his truck, a smile tugging at his lips. What was the worst that could happen? Skye wasn’t shy about speaking her mind. If she didn’t want to go to dinner, she’d make her feelings known. More than anything, he desperately wanted to redeem this weekend and prove to her that no matter what happened with Connor, he wanted to be with her.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Thank you so much.” Skye smiled at the attendant behind the front desk at the spa. “Eve
rything was wonderful.”

  “So glad you enjoyed it.” The young woman handed her a receipt. “We hope to see you again soon.”

  “Me, too.” Skye dropped the receipt in her purse and tried not to think about how much the massage and facial cost. It was well worth it. This was the most relaxed she’d felt since, well, since she’d gone to Merritt’s Crossing. Her limbs felt loose and fluid, and the muscles between her shoulder blades weren’t scrunched in tense knots anymore. She’d forgotten how good it felt to be pampered, if only for a short time.

  She looped her scarf around her neck, shouldered her purse, then stepped outside. While snow still edged the sidewalks, the concrete was bare and the blue sky stretched overhead with hardly a cloud in sight. The midafternoon sunshine on her face offered a hint of warmth. Maybe spring wasn’t far away after all.

  As she rounded the corner of the building, her steps faltered at the sight of a familiar blue pickup parked nearby.

  “Oh my.” Her breath hitched. Gage leaned against the driver’s side, one long denim-clad leg crossed over the other, with a bouquet of daffodils wrapped in brown paper in his arms. In his leather jacket and aviator sunglasses, his handsome features were more striking than ever.

  “Hey.” He straightened to his full height and removed his sunglasses. She strode closer, stopping in front of him.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Can’t a guy surprise a lady every once in a while?” He held out the flowers. “These are for you.”

  She took the bouquet, noting the way her pulse did a subtle blip-blip-blip as his fingers grazed hers. “Thank you. They’re lovely.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “You didn’t have to drive all the way to Denver to bring me flowers.” She tilted her head to one side. “Didn’t anyone tell you there’s a new flower shop in Merritt’s Crossing?”

  “But you’re not in Merritt’s Crossing, so where’s the fun in that?”

  Her heart cartwheeled at his flirtatious banter.

  “If you knew where to find me, were you a part of this covert operation to get me out of town?”

  “I wish.” He reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You deserve a break.”

  She shivered at his touch but didn’t step back. His imposing presence didn’t intimidate her like when they’d first met.

  “If you’re free, I’d love to take you to dinner. Laramie set us up with a reservation at one of your favorite places.”

  Skye smiled. Laramie. Her bold attempt at matchmaking was impressive. She glanced down at her yoga pants, T-shirt and ballet flats. “I’m not really dressed appropriately for dinner.”

  “That’s debatable.” He held her gaze. “I think you look wonderful.”

  Warmth heated her cheeks. “Thank you. I’d still rather change into something nicer than this.”

  “So that’s a yes, then?” he asked, his expression hopeful.

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” He smiled. “I hope it’s a better experience than our last visit to a nice restaurant.”

  Laughter bubbled up. “Me, too.” She wrinkled her nose. “You don’t think I was too childish?”

  “Not at all.” His eyes searched her face. “I thought you did a wonderful job speaking your mind. Connor’s fortunate to have you in his corner.”

  Her heart hammered. She wanted to trust him. She really did. He hadn’t given her any reason not to. He’d cared for Connor and helped Mom so selflessly. Inviting him to her apartment a few blocks away while she changed clothes was too forward, though.

  “What’s wrong? You look worried.” He glanced down and dragged the toe of his boot against the snow-crusted parking lot. “I shouldn’t have assumed you’d want to have dinner with me.”

  “It’s—it’s not that. I do want to have dinner with you.” She met his cautious gaze. His expression looked guarded. Did he think she might blow him off? “I was trying to figure out the logistics, because parking can be a challenge. If I text you the address of a coffee shop in my neighborhood, will you meet me there in thirty minutes?”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “We can grab coffee and walk through the park before dinner.”

  His wide smile made warmth and excitement spread through her chest. This wasn’t how she’d planned to spend the rest of her day. Did everything always have to be the way she wanted, though? Hadn’t the last few months taught her there was good in embracing the unexpected? Maybe this spontaneous outing was worth the risk. Maybe he was worth the risk.

  * * *

  Gage sank into an overstuffed chair in the corner of a busy Denver coffee shop. He’d sensed Skye’s discomfort at inviting him to follow her to her apartment and tried not to let it bother him. She was smart. Cautious. Accustomed to life in a midsize city. But he couldn’t ignore the underlying current of uncertainty that sometimes resurfaced, flashing across her features before she quickly regained control. What had happened to her?

  He dug his fingers into the armrests of his chair and tried not to think about what kind of a man might treat such a beautiful woman poorly. How could he convince her that he cared deeply and admired her strength and confidence?

  The door opened, and he glanced up, hoping it was Skye. Instead, three young women strode in, all glued to their phones. A coffee grinder rumbled behind the counter, followed by the hiss of steam from the espresso machine. Gage surveyed the modern decor, people sitting at tables hunched over their laptops and the line of customers snaking from the register.

  Outside, a steady stream of cars, pedestrians and even a few bike riders filled the city streets. This was quite a change from the slower pace of Merritt’s Crossing. The buildings around the coffee shop looked like a mix of high-end condos and restored Victorian homes—the kind of place where young career-oriented single people might live to be close to the amenities and nightlife of downtown, without giving up the vibe of a neighborhood.

  Did Skye enjoy living here? She’d only committed to a short stay with her mom, and her leave from her job was probably coming to an end. What did that mean for Connor? For him? It seemed unlikely that Gerald and Irene would gain custody of Connor quickly, but if they did, might Skye resume her life here right where she’d left off?

  All these questions only added to his unsettling discomfort. He shifted in his seat, bouncing his knee up and down, and stared out the window impatiently. When he caught a glimpse of Skye walking along the sidewalk in a floral-print dress, knee-high brown leather boots, with a coat draped over her arm and small purse dangling from her shoulder, his heart thrummed in his chest. Her long hair bounced across her shoulders as she walked, and he had to grit his teeth as two men passed her and offered appreciative glances.

  Oblivious to them, she met Gage’s eyes through the window and smiled. He stood and met her at the door.

  “I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” she said, joining him inside. “A friend is staying at my apartment while I’m away, and I felt rude rushing back out so quickly.”

  “No problem.” Gage’s shoulder brushed against hers as they took their places at the back of the line. “I’m a great people watcher.”

  “There’s a lot to see compared to Merritt’s Crossing.”

  Gage resisted the urge to ask which she preferred—Denver or Merritt’s Crossing. He was afraid he might not like the answer.

  A few minutes later, to-go cups in hand, they left the coffee shop.

  “Feel like a walk?” Skye asked. “There’s a nice trail around the lake a couple of blocks from here.”

  “Sounds good.”

  They walked in companionable silence, until his regrets from their visit with Ryan’s parents threatened to steal all the joy of being alone with Skye. “I’m so sorry that our interaction with Gerald and Irene was contentious. I feel partly responsible for that.”
<
br />   She glanced up at him, eyes round. “Why?”

  His mouth felt as dry as sandpaper as he forced the words out. “Helping Connor connect with his grandparents felt like a positive step in keeping my promise to Ryan. If I’d known what they’d propose once they got here, and what that would mean for you and your family, I—I would’ve given it more careful thought.”

  He stared at the lake coming into view and braced for Skye’s reaction.

  “I think you did what anyone in your situation would do—help two grieving people connect with their grandson.”

  The tightness in his chest loosened. “Really?”

  Skye nodded. “I’m not thrilled about their strategy for being more involved in Connor’s life, but I don’t blame you for their actions or the things they said while they were here.”

  They walked in silence and then she glanced at him again. “If you don’t mind my asking, why have you remained so loyal to Connor through all of this? Is it still just about keeping a promise to Ryan?”

  “It’s more...complicated.” The anxiety of reliving those last horrifying moments sent a shiver down his spine. The darkness from the loss of power belowdecks, men scrambling to escape the damaged compartments, the acrid scent of smoke...

  “The day Ryan died, we were at sea, after a long day of training exercises on our sub. I was getting ready to go to sleep, and Ryan was standing watch because we’d traded shifts. There was a horrible fire—”

  His heart pounded in his chest. “I—I tried to get to Ryan’s station, but the fire was spreading, and I didn’t have time...” He trailed off, his throat clogged with emotion. “Ryan and five other guys didn’t make it out. I’ve always blamed myself because I was the one who traded shifts with Ryan.”

  Skye gently squeezed his arm. They stopped walking, and she faced him. “I am so sorry. It must’ve been awful.”

  “Thank you.” He looked away, wishing he hadn’t forgotten his sunglasses in his truck. Letting her see his anguish scared him. “In the eyes of the navy and even according to Gerald and Irene, the accident was blamed on human error and equipment failure, due to budget shortfalls, but I can’t help thinking that maybe if I’d tried harder, acted a split second sooner, Ryan might still be here. If I hadn’t asked Ryan to trade shifts with me, Connor would have a dad.”