Lake - Manning Page 16

  He leaned his elbows on his knees. “So you’ve been trying?”

  “Since before the wedding.”

  Lady rolled around on the grass as Tweedledee flopped down next to her, panting.

  Corbin counted on his fingers. “Is that longer than normal to not get pregnant?” he asked. “I don’t know anything about this.”

  “Kaplan women are extremely fertile,” I said, imitating my dad’s voice.

  “Oh, fuck that, Lake,” Corbin said. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Except it does. We actually threw out the birth control over a year ago.” I twisted my lips, then drank a little more soda. “It’s longer than normal.”

  I didn’t want to mention the doctor’s visit, to say the diagnosis aloud. It would make it too real, and Manning was the only person who needed such intimate details about my health. “It’s not going to be an easy path for us . . . if it happens at all.”

  “No way,” he said. “You’re meant to be a mom, Kaplan—sorry—Sutter. I feel it in my gut.”

  “And my gut says something’s wrong.”

  “Ignore it.” Corbin rubbed his palms together. “It’ll happen for you. You’re good at going after what you want. Nobody can deny that.”

  That was true, and hadn’t it paid off in the past? This wasn’t the time to surrender, but the alternative was armoring myself for another uphill battle. “Sure.”

  “Have you guys discussed adoption?”

  “Me and my doctor?”

  “You and Manning.”

  “Oh. No.”

  “Why not? You’re so passionate about rescues—”

  “We’re talking about babies, not dogs.” The idea of adoption hadn’t even entered my thoughts. I wasn’t ready to consider alternatives. So, I supposed that meant I wasn’t giving up just yet. “I don’t think Manning would go for it.” Protect, provide, mate. “He wants his own children.”

  “He said that?” Corbin sounded surprised. “That’s kind of shitty considering it’s not really something you can control. And since when is adopting not the same as having a child?”

  “No, no,” I said quickly. “He didn’t say that, and of course we feel that way. Especially considering his relationship with his aunt and Henry. I know it’s not what he wants for us, though.”

  Corbin took my soda and sipped. “Is he not being supportive? Because I can talk to him. A buddy of mine in New York is going through the adoption process.”

  With my palms on the wall, I dug my nails into the concrete. “We haven’t talked about it yet, the possibility of a problem. Definitely don’t bring it up.”

  “You haven’t talked about it?”

  “No.” I pulled back. “It’s not something you just come out and tell your new spouse. ‘Sorry I’m barren, but you’re stuck with me now.’”

  “Hey. Come on.” He put an arm around me, nestling me into his side. “You’re not barren.”

  Corbin wouldn’t be so optimistic if he knew what the doctor had said. I was tempted to unload it all on him, but that wouldn’t be fair to Manning. The backs of my eyes heated with unshed tears. “What if I am? How do I tell him?”

  “That dude is obsessed with you and everything you do. He’d never feel stuck with you—but I guarantee he’d hate that you’re going through this alone. Tell him.”

  “But—”

  “Tell him. Let him be there for you.”

  “He’ll be so disappointed.” A few tears slid down my cheeks, and I wiped them away, frustrated. “We’ve been talking about this since New York, Corbin. Before we were even official. We want children, and for him, it’s like a biological need.”

  “He’ll have to get over it.” Corbin kissed the top of my head. “What other choice does he have?”

  We sat that way watching the dogs for a few more minutes. There was nothing else to say. Corbin couldn’t change the situation, and the more I talked to him about it, the more real it became. I had to be honest with Manning. He would want to know, and besides, we needed to start discussing our options. Just because one door might be closed didn’t mean it was all over for us.

  “You don’t really tell Val she makes too many jokes, do you?” I asked.

  He chuckled. “Humor as a defense mechanism?”

  “Yep.”

  “I never said that. But I do want us to connect on all levels, and sometimes that means she has to drop the act.” He pinged the tab of the can with his thumbnail. “I’m guilty for not seeing her earlier than I did, but I also think she didn’t want me to. She tried extra hard to keep me from knowing how she felt.”

  I nodded slowly. “Even I didn’t know. How do you feel about not getting married?”

  “Honestly?” He handed me back the ginger ale and straightened up to pull his hair back into a bun. “I like the idea of doing the whole big thing like you guys, but it’s not a deal breaker for me. If she doesn’t want it, it’s cool, as long as she isn’t going anywhere.”

  I squinted at Dum as his front half disappeared into a bush. He wagged his tail and whined, trying to get to something. Probably a lizard. “Are you sure she doesn’t want it?”

  “No.” He shrugged. “She’s fucked up over her dad leaving her mom. She’s scared. She even talked about having an abortion.”

  I lost my breath a little. It wasn’t all that surprising—she’d always valued her independence. And even though it was painful to think she might decide not to have a baby when I didn’t have that choice, I had no right to judge her. The day Manning had left New York, Val had gotten me to Planned Parenthood for a morning-after pill when I’d rather have cried myself to sleep. Maybe that’d been my only chance to have Manning’s child. Or maybe I’d always been broken. My gut smarted.

  “Sorry,” Corbin said. “That was probably insensitive considering what you’re going through.”

  I tried to push my own feelings aside because Val was my family. I knew from our conversations that she was in it for the long haul with Corbin. “She’s just scared.”

  “I know.”

  “Please tell me you talked her out of it.”

  “Can’t talk that girl out of anything,” he said. “I had to let her get there on her own, but I knew she would. We’re having this baby.”

  “Wow.” I blew out a breath and with it, a tiny bit of my resentment. “I can’t believe it.”

  “See what I’m dealing with? Heavy stuff.” He shook his head with a laugh. “The deeper it is, the funnier she seems to get.”

  “Ah. The defense mechanism.” I elbowed his arm, purposely avoiding the ribs this time. “You’re right. Maybe a few less jokes would do her good.”

  “I think so,” he agreed, hopping off the wall to stretch above his head. “Anyway, ain’t nothing funny about unplanned pregnancy.”

  I shielded my eyes from the sun to look up at him, and we both broke into laughter. Maybe it was a tiny bit funny.

  I finished off my drink and called for the dogs. When Corbin opened the back door, they sprinted inside. Manning wasn’t in the kitchen or study, so I returned to the den. While Val and Tiffany compared notes on morning sickness, my dad read the Sunday paper in a recliner next to Tiffany’s.

  He lowered the paper. “Lake,” he said when Lady sat by the chair, “this one won’t leave me alone.”

  I picked her up to put her on his lap. She immediately climbed over the paper, crinkling it as she turned in a circle and settled down. “She likes you,” I said.

  He hummed. “It would seem so.”

  Two arms wrapped around my waist from behind, and Manning pulled me against his front. He rubbed my tummy with his thumb, and I could practically hear his thoughts. “Val’s pregnant?” he asked in my ear.

  “It’s not confirmed yet,” I said. “But probably.”

  He swayed us side to side. “There are puppies and babies everywhere.”

  As if I hadn’t noticed. I clenched my teeth to keep a response inside that would only sound bitter or defensive. />
  “What’d you say her name was?” Dad asked, his hands open and hovering as if he wasn’t sure what to do with her.

  “She doesn’t have one.”

  He inspected her. “You know, Lake wasn’t the name I would’ve chosen for you. Since I picked Tiffany, I let Cathy decide yours. But I always liked the name Rebecca for some reason.”

  Lady wagged her tail as she lifted her head to look at him.

  “So call her Rebecca,” Manning said. “I think she likes it.”

  My dad finally rested his hand on her back to pet the length of her. “Silly name for a dog.”

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “I like it. It’s original.”

  “Rebecca.” Dad sighed. “Fine then. She can be Rebecca.”

  Manning tightened his arms around my middle. “Picking out names is fun, eh? You ever think about that?”

  I couldn’t breathe, but if I didn’t play along, Manning would know something was wrong. Even though the truth bore down on us, I wasn’t about to reveal my shortcomings to him here in front of all our friends and family. “Sure,” I said.

  He lowered his voice. “Got any frontrunners for our baby cub?”

  Goosebumps were my natural response to the excitement in his voice. Just talking about babies did all kinds of things to Manning. It turned him into Papa Bear. Protective, primal—and horny.

  “No favorites yet,” I said, hiding the emotion in my voice. “I don’t want to get ahead of myself. Let’s wait, okay?”

  “Whatever you want, beautiful.” He nuzzled my temple, rocking me as we stood puzzled together, a seemingly strong unit to everyone around us—even Manning—but with a very crucial piece missing.

  16

  Manning and I drove out of my parents’ cul-de-sac after dark. We weren’t the only ones leaving the beach on a Sunday night, but even without traffic, I suspected the drive home still would’ve felt longer than the one up. It was definitely quieter.

  “What’re you thinking about over there, Birdy?” Manning asked.

  I spun my wedding ring, picturing its soothing, pearly stone in the dark. “Just how empty it feels.”

  “The puppies are in great hands,” he said. “Val was excited. Lydia would’ve taken two if she could’ve. Even your dad fell in love with Rebecca. You should be proud of yourself. And happy.”

  The way he said happy made me think he could sense that I wasn’t, but that didn’t surprise me. Manning always seemed to know how I was feeling, sometimes before I could even name it. “I’m tired, that’s all.”

  “You’ve been quiet since before dinner. Did you really want to keep the puppies? I thought you were joking.”

  “No. There’s no way we could handle raising five all at once.”

  Manning stayed quiet a few miles, long enough for me to assume he’d dropped whatever he was getting at. Deep down, though, I knew he hadn’t, so I wasn’t surprised when he broke the silence again.

  “Then it has to be about Val’s news.”

  I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to talk about this. I didn’t want to think about it anymore. I didn’t want to feel like such a failure. Why couldn’t he ever just leave it alone? For the first time in my life, I wished he didn’t love me so much, didn’t try to protect me from everyone—even myself. “I’m happy for them.”

  “I know you are.”

  “So can we leave it at that?”

  “You know we can’t,” he said.

  “I have a headache.” I stared out the passenger side window as the landscape changed from breezy, lively Newport Beach to the dark, still mountains. Manning and I had taken this drive many times, but none would ever be as thrilling as the first. The night we’d driven into town, around perfect neighborhoods, and into unforgiving woods, had been one of the best of my life. True, he’d had too many cares and worries for such a young age, ones I’d adopted as my own, but even now, I’d go back, just for tonight. Especially if it meant escaping what lay ahead of us.

  Manning didn’t push the subject. He let me sulk for the remainder of the drive, but I wasn’t off the hook. Not only because Manning wouldn’t let me go long in a mood like this, but also because of what Corbin had said. I owed Manning the truth; I just didn’t know how or when I was going to tell him.

  A few miles from the house, around ten, Manning’s cell rang. He flipped it open. “Yeah?” he asked, pausing. “No, it’s all right. I’m glad you called.” He listened, steering us onto the small road toward the house. “Yeah,” he said, his tone wooden. “I understand.”

  He squinted ahead, ignoring me as I tried to get his attention. “Manning?” I whispered.

  “Makes sense,” he said into the phone. “It’s been a while since I was in the business, so I can’t say I don’t understand. Keep me in mind, though. Sure.” He snapped the phone shut.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Excuse me?” I asked. “This is a two-way street, you know. If I have to talk about my stupid feelings, so do you.”

  His nostrils flared as he pulled into our long driveway. “Big Bear’s tearing down and rebuilding some public restrooms on the other side of the lake. Joe at the city said he’d put in a good word for me.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “For furniture?”

  “I submitted a bid, but Joe wanted to tell me personally it would be rejected.”

  “As a contractor? You don’t even have a crew.”

  “I’ve been getting one together. It’s—it was—a small job.”

  “You never mentioned that. I didn’t even know you were thinking about any of this until this afternoon.”

  “Doesn’t matter now.” He parked and got out, slamming his door shut and starting around the front of the truck.

  I hopped down before he reached my side. “Have you submitted for anything else?” I asked as Blue whined from the back gate. After her accidental pregnancy, and with so many puppies, Manning had put up a temporary fence.

  “Not yet.” He went up the porch steps as Blue ran around back to her dog door. “I still need to register as a business, but I wanted to get the ball rolling.”

  Register as a business? “Are you doing this for real?” I asked. “What about furniture?”

  “I can do both.” He opened the front door for Blue, and Altair and Vega came tumbling out after her. Manning took their leashes from the foyer. “Who wants to go for a walk?”

  Blue went berserk at the word walk, and the puppies followed suit, yelping as they ran circles around Manning’s boots.

  Well, I’d gotten what I’d wished for. Manning was no longer looking at me, trying to read my every last thought, or soothe my worries. He focused on getting the dogs leashed, then stomped down the steps, right past me.

  I turned around to watch him go. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Nothing.”

  Inside, I prepared three bowls of kibble with raw meat, and waited at the dinner table for Manning. My bad mood had rubbed off on him, and as a result, I felt more guilty than annoyed. Waiting for me to get pregnant couldn’t be any easier for him than it had been for me. For the first time, it occurred to me—what if he thought he was the problem?

  *

  Half asleep with my back to the door, I stirred when Manning entered our bedroom, the dogs’ nails clicking on the wood floor after him. He set something on the nightstand, slid between the sheets and up against my backside. “Lake,” he murmured.

  “Hmm?”

  “I need you.”

  I turned to him. “What do you need, Great Bear?”

  He rolled on top of me, pushing my sleepshirt to my waist and sliding his hand down the front of my underwear. “Kiss me.”

  I put an arm around his neck, gasping as he plunged one finger into me and then another. I lifted my mouth to his, and as soon as our lips touched, he turned frantic, finger fucking me until I was so wet I could hear it. He shoved down his pants, and I had only seconds to wrap my legs around him before h
e drove into me.

  I made a squeak of surprise, and he paused, his breath warm on my cheek. “Lake.”

  Once I’d gotten over the initial shock of him, I exhaled. “I’m fine, Manning, just . . .”

  “What, Birdy?”

  “I love you. So much.”

  He drew his hips back. “And still less than I love you.”

  “Impossible,” I whispered. “Take what you need.”

  He lifted onto his arms and did just that, fast and hard, until I’d slid to the top of the bed with the force of his thrusts. He stopped to put a pillow between me and the headboard, then grabbed the rail for leverage as he resumed fucking me. “You want a baby?” he growled at me.

  I was high enough on him, raw and aroused enough to growl right back. “Yes.”

  “You’re going to come with me, understand? Your tight motherfucking pussy’s gonna squeeze every last drop out of me.”

  “Yes,” I groaned, resigning my will, my heart, my body to him.

  He didn’t relent until I started to come apart, orgasming around him as he plunged to the hilt and came deep. He collapsed on top of me, a sign he was truly lost to the moment, since he normally worried about crushing me. Without words, because there really wasn’t anything to say in those rawest moments, we each drifted to sleep.

  I woke up alone in the middle of the night and looked over at the clock on his nightstand. I had to sit up to read it since he’d left a bottle of aspirin and water in the way. For my headache, I guessed. It was two in the morning and silent in the house.

  The puppies slept soundlessly, but Blue was gone. I rubbed my eyes, sitting back against the headboard.

  “You want a baby?”

  I wasn’t dense. Manning had probably known all along what was going on with me. This wasn’t the same kind of obstacle we’d come up against in the past. Back then, we’d had a sliver of control over our destiny, and we’d taken that little bit and pushed it wide enough to make room for ourselves. This time, it was out of our hands. This was the circle of life, and I was being weeded out of the ground.

  Did I want a baby? What the hell did he think? That if he fucked me hard enough, came deep enough, wanted it badly enough, then it would happen?