Page 28 of Not the Bodyguard's Baby
“Let’s play that by ear.” Melanie took some more salad. “If he thinks of attempting a paternity suit, he will need to wait until Tuesday when the courthouse opens again.”
“Why would he want to do a paternity suit? He didn’t want a baby.” September covered her abdomen, memories of how much he didn’t want a baby flooding her mind.
Adam grunted. “Control. Make your life miserable.”
“I thought you didn’t know him.” September trembled.
“I read the file Alan put together on him. I know the type.”
Melanie gathered the empty plates. “Why don’t you take September and show her the safe-room access.”
Adam leaned over. “Take two bites, then we will go.”
She expected the food to taste like sand as her mouth was already dry, but the meat was tender, with a hint of hickory, and two bites weren’t enough. Adam played with Harmony while she finished eating.
15
Adam squeezed September’s hand.“Mom, will you watch Harmony?”
“Sure, put a few baby supplies in the room along with the bassinet.” Melanie bent over the bouncy seat.
September looked back over her shoulder, eyes wide.
He squeezed her hand again. “Don’t worry. Mom will take care of her. I’m curious. You’ve been in this house several times over the years. Any idea where our hidden room could be?”
“No, I assumed those were things in old castles and mega-paranoid superstars’ houses. Not a family of security guards.” She paused at the entrance to the living room. “Behind the bookcase?”
“No. Dad designed it himself. Mom gave him the idea for the door.” Adam opened the door to the linen closet next to his parents’ bedroom and lifted the third shelf from the top. “You lift on the shelf and then push on the right side of the wall.” The entire shelf unit slid into the wall, revealing a passageway. As Adam stepped across the threshold, low-wattage lighting blinked on to illuminate a windowless room.
September followed, brushing her fingers over the wall forming the side of the closet, past an open steel door and into a small windowless room. She gazed around the room, eyes wide. “I never would’ve guessed. I always thought a secret room should be behind bookcases or stairways, not the stash of towels.”
“Mom’s idea. No one would think to look behind the guest linens and spare rolls of TP.” He led her over to a small screen the size of a tablet embedded in the wall. “From here you can watch all the camera feeds, including the one situated above the door to this room. There’s food and water as well as a cell phone kept charged at all times and a dedicated landline with a number known only to members of the family.” Adam pointed around the room to the various items. “This couch makes into a bed, and these two large panels will pull out into sets of bunk beds. We can put the bassinet in this corner. I don’t see a scenario where you would be in here more than a half hour. The room is soundproofed, but it’s best if Harmony doesn’t cry for long.” September wandered around the room, picking up books and a deck of cards. “Have you ever had to use it for long?”
“No, we’ve only used it for drills. Once we stayed in here for thirty-six hours during Christmas break. I was a teenager. It may have been around Y2K. Dad wanted to test the room in case of the worst. I remember Dad wanted two full days, but we discovered the mini porta potty could not accommodate seven Hastings for long.”
She walked back over to the entrance. “How do I close the door?”
Adam stood close behind her. She’d used a different shampoo than last year, perhaps one the hospital provided. He reached around her and put his fingers into an indention on the back side of the closet where the sliding portion stuck out from the wall two inches. “Put your fingers here and pull. The rolling shelves slide easily. It automatically closes the closet door in the hallway. Try it.” He removed his hand.
September placed her fingers in the groove and pulled. The closet slid easily on the tracks and closed quietly.
Adam took another step back beyond the frame of the security door. “Then you need to shut this door.” Adam swung the heavy metal door in place and turned the huge vault-like dial until he heard the dead bolts engage. Then he opened the door. “You try. The vault door takes more pressure than a regular one.”
September used both arms to crank the lock shut, then smiled up at him. He brushed a lock of hair off her brow and trailed his fingers down the side of her face the same way he had that fateful night. Every muscle in his body ached to reenact the kiss. She didn’t move as he lowered his head. He wasn’t sure if she was ready and tried to think of a way to ask without breaking the spell, but when she rested her hand on the center of his chest and rose on tiptoe to meet him, Adam closed the gap. Their lips met, tentative and questioning at first, but then the spark they’d ignited so long ago flickered brightly. No longer questioning, he pulled her closer and ended the kiss with an exclamation mark. He lifted his head but didn’t step away, and September rested her head on his shoulder.
As they stood in silence, his mind raced faster than his heart, leaping ahead to the possibility of forever.
September stepped back first, a slight frown wrinkling her brow. “We need to go get the bassinet.” She opened the vault and closet doors. As he exited the room, he heard her footfalls on the stairs. She hadn’t run far, but still, she had run.
* * *
As soon as the lock clicked, September leaned back against the bathroom door and slid to the floor. Why had she kissed Adam? Dr. Brooks had warned her about making big decisions during the first few weeks of postpartum recovery. But then, loving Adam wasn’t a decision, at least not a new one. She wasn’t sure when her heart had chosen him. Most of the PPD mothers had a significant other. Was it so wrong for her to want Adam?
She used a deep-breathing technique to calm her heart. Kissing him felt so right. The hole in her soul wasn’t merely being filled, it was being healed. But this was crazy. She was crazy. No, not crazy, she told herself again. Postpartum depression wasn’t crazy. If she’d learned anything this week, she’d learned that. If there weren’t so many other issues going on, she would have kissed him again and again.
Someone tapped on the door, and Melanie’s voice floated through. “September, are you in there?”
September pushed off the floor. She shouldn’t hide. The last thing she wanted was for someone to think the PPD had gotten worse. She opened the door to find Melanie standing in the hallway, Harmony asleep in her arms.
