Breathe Again Page 3

  “You look tired.” He came to sit beside her and handed her a cup of coffee. “I was thinking about the tension between us, and it’s not good for us or the team. I think I should move out of the house. What do you think?”

  She stared at Nick, who looked as perky as an ex-Marine with issues could look. He knew, and he was testing her. That was the only explanation she could come up with.

  His eyebrows came together as he frowned. “You look a little pale. Did that doctor get your results back?” He moved his hand toward her head, and she ducked, causing him to look at her with concern.

  “I am sorry about the other day. I really am. I think having any kind of relationship, even if it’s only a physical one, can get messy, and I respect you too much for that.”

  She sighed. He didn’t know. If he did, he would tell her.

  Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

  “It’s not like you to be this quiet,” he prompted.

  She swallowed her guilt. Maybe she could get away with not telling him. If he moved out, he wouldn’t notice her being pregnant. Then he’d be gone on tour, and he wouldn’t need to know.

  “Everybody seems to be asking me strange questions and talking about babies a lot. You don’t know what that’s about, do you?” He sipped his coffee and let out a sigh.

  “Grapevine,” she said.

  He nodded as if he understood before turning to her.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  Skye watched him for a reaction. There wasn’t any. He sat there, looking at her, as though he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. Maybe he hadn’t heard. Maybe he didn’t want to hear. She wasn’t sure, and she sure as hell was too scared to ask. She looked away, trying to remember their life together. What she’d done was stupid. She knew that, but it was too late to do anything about it.

  “It’s not possible, right?” he asked after an endless moment.

  They’d discussed babies briefly, and his stance was always no. He used to say he didn’t need to become a father to prove his incompetence. He pressed down on the small round scar on his hand. She watched him and wondered why he never wanted to discuss his life before or during the Marine Corps.

  His gaze hardened as he clenched his jaw shut. “How could this have happened?”

  “I—”

  She looked down at her hands, linking her fingers together. Tell him the truth. Tell him you didn’t mean to. The tears burned her eyes, fell. She rubbed at the wetness on her cheeks.

  He curled his hands into fists. She was too scared to take his hands in hers. Too scared to touch him.

  “We weren’t a happy couple. I know the last thing we should be doing is having a baby.” She didn’t meet his gaze.

  “No.” The word might have been a lot harsher than he’d meant it to be. “I’m sorry.”

  “So how did we end up pregnant when we took every precaution?” he asked.

  She avoided his gaze. She’d tell him. Just not now. She couldn’t handle having to tell him now. The accusation. He wouldn’t shout. He’d go silent. It was worse than shouting. She’d prefer to have a ripping argument, but the silence— “I know you never wanted to be a father.”

  He shook his head. “It was a deal-breaker when we married. You know how I feel. There are enough children in the world without a home—”

  “You always said that, but there was always more to that excuse.”

  This time he turned away with guilt in his eyes. “So now what?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Like single parents say, you can be as involved as you want to be.”

  His wary gaze caught her by surprise.

  “I’m not asking you to stay. You wanted out long before the baby. You never signed up for babies, and as of before you found out about the baby, you were moving out. You are free to leave. No strings attached.” Skylar looked down at her tummy. She’d wanted this. Once. She’d deal with it. Now. She cupped her abdomen protectively.

  She looked at Nick and smiled. “I’m going to be a mummy.”

  Chapter Three

  “He stopped breathing in the car. It’s peanuts—one whiff and he gets a reaction.” Skylar gently pushed the panic-stricken mother aside and focused on the nine-year-old boy on the stretcher.

  The skin around his mouth was cherry red, but what troubled her was the bluish tinge of his lips. The raspy noise of his breathing sounded like an alarm bell in the otherwise quiet resus room.

  Pulling the oxygen tubing and mask from its place on the wall behind the stretcher, Skylar spoke to the mother in a calm voice, a voice that belied the panicked sense of doubt in her mind.

  She lifted her gaze and met the young woman’s. “Did you give him any adrenaline?” she asked as she placed the oxygen mask over the boy’s nose and mouth.

  The mother threw her hands up, her voice thickened to a hoarse whisper. “The one time I forget it. I forgot his EpiPen. I knew I should have carried it with me.” She pulled his hair away from his face and hovered over him. “Will he be okay? If anything happens to him, I only have myself to blame.”

  Looking around the small resus room, Skylar spotted a student nurse. She beckoned the nurse as she spoke to the boy’s mother. “We’re going to take good care of your child, but I need you to go with this nurse. As soon as I can, I will send for you.”

  The mother rubbed at the tears falling from her eyes. Reluctantly, she nodded and followed the student to the family waiting area of the emergency room.

  Skylar scanned the room once more wondering where Nick was. His MIA moments since the news about the baby were wearing on her nerves. It had been three weeks, and he was taking his time moving out of the house, finding some excuse or the other to prolong his stay.

  Taking a quick look at the boy's size, she drew up the correct dose of adrenaline for his age and got the nurse next to her to check it before she administered it into the child's thigh. She double-checked the oxygen flow and made sure he was starting to respond.

  As the boy slowly regained color, he started to breathe easier. The quiet hum of the emergency room was comforting. At this part of the morning, Hawkes Bay was waking up, and this would be the most interesting thing happening in the small town at this time in the morning.

  “Has anyone seen Doctor Delaney?” Skylar watched as each team member shrugged.

  Letting out a frustrated breath, she combed her fingers through her hair. She secured the oxygen mask with one hand around the boy’s mouth and used the other to open the drawer next to her. She pulled out needles and syringes, her gaze flicking between the drawer and the child.

  When the air in the room changed, Skylar didn’t need to look up to know why. She felt the heat behind her, and she curled her hand into a fist until her nails bit into her palm.

  Nick. She pulled in a breath and turned. He ignored the question in her gaze and focused on the patient’s notes.

  “How much adrenaline did you give him?” His words were a heated breath next to her ear.

  She fought for control.

  She bit down on her lip and realized she held her breath. She paused as he turned to her. Her gaze held his stubbornly. “He’s had the correct amount, Doctor. As per protocol. Where were you caught up? Looking for a bachelor pad perhaps?”

  His stoic expression didn’t fall, but she knew that one day the teasing would either get her in trouble or get her a reaction, and she was okay with either.

  She didn’t let him see the slight quiver of her hand as she closed the drawer. What was it about the man that made her want to peel back the layers to see what was inside?

  The resus room was too small for a man of his size. But then, lately she was beginning to realize any room with Nick Delaney was proving too small for her. She sighed, and try as she may, she couldn’t get her mind off him. Hormones had to be blamed for this.

  He ignored her question and signed the chart, before watching her every move with that same quietness that made her feel like a target about to be taken down.


  If only they talked, like they used to.

  She swallowed a soft curse as her heart hammered against her chest. He couldn’t help himself. That hero complex he had. Sometimes she thought it was an act— sometimes. Sometimes, she wasn’t sure.

  “I could do this on my own, but I’m not supposed to. I was worried about you.” Her voice cracked into a soft whisper. She tugged on her lip again and met his gaze. “I wish you’d talk to me.”

  His lips formed a thin line as he took the drug chart and checked the dosage.

  “I gave him point three mils. He is already responding.” Surprised her voice was steady and less husky than it sounded before, she took in a breath.

  He looked from the chart to the boy and then focused on her. “I'll put in the line.”

  He didn’t say, “Job well done.” Neither did he say, “We can talk. Later.”

  Skylar handed him the equipment she’d gathered and turned her attention back to the little boy. Nick refused to talk about the baby. That wasn’t normal. Not even for a slightly emotionally challenged man. If there was some way to reach across that large expanse of nothingness, she could touch him, really touch him—

  As they’d been doing for years, together they worked to insert the drip and commenced treatment. Skylar stepped back and watched Nick finish checking the fluids.

  “He's responding really well. We'll need to give him an antihistamine and some fluids. Keep an eye on his vitals. There could be a rebound effect if the adrenaline wears off.”

  She swallowed an uncomfortable lump in her throat as Nick found her watching him. “I’ll check on him and carry out those orders, if you’re finished,” she said, hoping he didn’t sense her eagerness for a different response from him.

  His curt nod made her smile. Nick was in no danger of feeling anything that wasn’t in a report or on some radar in front of him. She’d lost him.

  She searched in her pocket for the jellybeans she had stashed earlier, and finding them, she put a few in her mouth as the boy’s mother walked toward them.

  Nick tensed, and she could feel his restlessness from where he stood.

  “That's his mum coming over now. She was very distressed, so be gentle.”

  The moment she said the words, she knew they didn't fit him. Be gentle. Being gentle wasn't his style. She knew that. He was the fix-it man. Always had been and now that he was back from the army, he was different. More like the fix-it man and less like the man who laughed and smiled with her.

  “Nick, we can’t go on like this.”

  Skylar wasn’t sure why she chose this moment to talk to Nick. She only knew her heart was breaking.

  He met her gaze, his brow creasing, and then he shook off the thought. “Now? You want to do this now?”

  She shook her head. “No, you’re right. Later.” Who was she kidding? He’d find some excuse for there not to be a later. He was good at that. No, he was great at that.

  The boy’s mother stepped forward cautiously, and Skylar gave her a warm smile as she moved to her son.

  Skylar slowly pushed Nick closer. He gave a small grunt and then fidgeted with his pen as he addressed the mother. “Your son is stable for now. We will keep him for observations to make sure he doesn't have a rebound reaction when the adrenaline wears off.”

  The woman wiped her tears with a limp tissue. “Thanks, Doctor.”

  Nick gave a slight nod and then turned to walk away. A look from Skylar made him stop. He turned back, put his hand out awkwardly, touched the woman's shoulder and then let his hand drop. The movements were mechanical, but somehow they were Nick.

  Skylar looked away and hid her smile. There were times when she saw hope. Flickers of the Nick he used to be, maybe still could be.

  “Next time, carry his EpiPen. You could have lost him.”

  His words grabbed her smile and wiped it clean away.

  Skylar bit her tongue. Typical. She scowled her disapproval and watched him walk away.

  The boy's mother didn't pay attention to Nick as she went to her son, who was sitting up looking less like a red blowfish and a little more like the boy she adored.

  After making sure the boy was comfortable, Skylar went to find Nick. When she eventually found him, he was in one of the treatment rooms. Skylar pushed open the heavy wooden door and watched him. He sat at the foot of the stretcher, concentrating on a little boy’s leg wound.

  The boy peeked at her from behind his mother’s waist, as he held on tightly. Skylar gave him a smile and turned back to an oblivious Nick. Although the tear streaks and thumb-sucking would be hard cues to miss, Nick was doing a fabulous job of saving the child’s leg.

  Hands on hips, Skylar looked around the room. “Has anyone seen my headless rooster running around?” She walked to the end of the room and pulled out a glove from the box on the rack above the hand basin.

  Nick’s steady gaze met hers with a ridiculous pull of electricity. His gaze softened, and her heart ping-ponged inside her chest. A knowing look passed between them, causing Skylar to stagger. Something caught in her throat, and for a moment, reality struck her hard. Her reaction to Nick was stronger than any she’d had before, and that scared her. She wasn’t ready to walk away. She was ready to fight. For him.

  “Rooster?” The boy took his thumb out of his mouth and lifted his head before looking around the room with interest.

  Skylar smiled at his parents, and his mother unclenched her jaw and smiled back.

  Nick tilted his head as he watched Skylar, his eyes alight for the first time ever. Then after he gave a curt nod, he looked down at the boy’s leg again.

  Skylar’s heart rate slowed and then picked up pace when she realized that look in his eyes…that was the first time he reacted to her. With a headiness she wasn’t expecting, she walked toward the boy. “I am sure I saw him come this way, and if I don't find a head for him soon, he will be in trouble. Are you sure you didn't see a headless rooster come this way?”

  The boy shook his head adamantly. Skylar had always loved red-headed boys.

  “What's your name?” she asked.

  The boy first looked at his mum and after her slight nod, he answered, “Angus.”

  “Well Angus, do you want to help me make a head for this rooster? We can’t have him running around headless. It’s against the rules, and Doctor Delaney likes his rules.”

  Angus nodded, giving her a gap-tooth smile. She reached across and pulled a pen from Nick’s pocket. It seemed like such a natural thing, she didn’t question her actions until his gaze met hers and faltered. This time when she tugged on her lip and bit down, it was to stop from being the fool. With his face so close, she could reach up and touch that little cleft on his chin, kiss it even. Would that open Pandora’s Box? At that second, the only thing she knew for sure was she wanted to kiss and be kissed. Like she used to be.

  “Delaney? Are you two related?” The boy’s mother looked from one of them to the other.

  His hand trembled for a second before he looked up.

  “Skye and I were married.”

  Her gut scrunched at the taste of disappointment to his matter-of-fact words. She placed her lips around the balloon and blew as hard as she could until it quickly inflated. After tying a knot, she looked at the odd-shaped glove.

  She wasn’t in the mood to play with the boy who was looking at her.

  She continued to stare at the rooster. She wanted to be the headless rooster, so she could run around and hide. Cry, scream, act mental. Be anywhere but here. Skylar turned to find the boy’s mother watching her with sympathy. It was that obvious.

  It took everything she had to move the seventeen muscles it took to smile, although something told her the science was wrong, because it seemed like a hundred and seventeen.

  Handing the pen to Angus, she held out the odd-looking head, which was an inflated glove. “Do you mind drawing some eyes and maybe a beak? Hopefully by the time you’re done, I’ll find my headless rooster.”

  Ang
us let his tongue catch against the corner of his mouth as he concentrated on his drawing. Her gaze didn’t leave the boy. She couldn’t bear to look anywhere else. If she found pity in his mother’s eyes, she’d cry.

  If she saw emptiness in Nick’s eyes, she’d—

  She wasn’t sure what she’d do. But she knew it wouldn’t be good to lose composure in front of this family.

  When the child was finished with his artwork, Nick had completed his sewing. Skylar kept her gaze trained on the boy. In a different reality, Nick would see her discomfort. In a different reality, he would take her in his arms and kiss away the hurt. But that was a different reality.

  “All good, young man.” Nick put away the instruments he used and threw the needle in the Sharps box. He looked at the boy’s artwork. Dismissing it, he turned his attention to the parents.

  “He doesn't need tetanus, because you have given him all of his immunizations. Keep that dressing on for two days, and then it can come off. Bring him in a week’s time and one of the nurses will remove those stitches. Any problems, don’t hesitate to come in before then.”

  The child looked from Skylar to the blown-up glove, and then he held out the head. “Here’s the head. I hope you find your rooster.”

  Skylar smiled, resisting the urge to ruffle his hair. “You know what? I think you should keep it. You’ve done such a great job on that head, it would be a shame to give it to a silly rooster who is forever losing it. I am sure we can find another head for him.” She turned the head each way and nodded before handing it back to the boy, “Although the next one won’t be as pretty.”

  After saying goodbye to Angus and the parents, Skylar watched Nick as he wrote his notes. “That was one cute kid.”

  He clicked his pen, fidgeted and then concentrated on crossing a T. “That was one nasty laceration. But it could have been worse.” He looked up. His green gaze caught hers, and kept it. Skylar folded her arms across her chest. He grew uncomfortable under her gaze. “What color hair did he have?”

  Nick clicked his pen twice and then looked at the page he held.

  Was he actually looking in the notes for the information?