Ring. The phone vibrated under her hand.
Lori startled back a step, then yanked it off the wall, uncaring if she sounded too eager. She had been waiting by the phone after all, and since he'd finally been the one to call she didn't care if he knew.
"Hello." Her voice sounded breathless and eager even to her own ears.
"Lori, this is Barbara."
Her attorney? With the evidentiary hearing a week away, they weren't scheduled to check in for another few days. Why would she call now? Foreboding gripped Lori by the throat. "Yes, Barbara, what can I do for you?"
"Lori, I hate to tell you this. But we've got a problem."
"What's the problem with this house, Major Clark?"
Gray stared back at the matronly real estate agent, a stack of house listing printouts gripped in his hand. "I'm not sure."
He circled the empty family room, searching for some flaw. They'd started with apartments, and he'd quickly known that wouldn't work for him anymore, not enough room and strangely too generic.
He'd asked the agent to pull house listings, having since plowed through about forty. The last had too small a backyard. The one before was located on a busy street. Another didn't have hardwood floors like Lori preferred.
And that was just it.
Every house he looked at fell short of what Lori and Magda needed. Of course, he wasn't sure he measured up any better than the houses. But if she was carrying his kid, then they would just have to make the best of it.
Husband. Father. He forced himself to think the words and not overlay images of his own childhood.
Each day that Lori didn't call increased the probability she could be pregnant. What kind of parents would they make with so much unresolved mess starting them off with two strikes? Their last parting hadn't been any better than the one a year ago.
He'd waited around in Charleston an extra few days to give her time to cool down, but no luck. She hadn't called. Two weeks had passed since she'd walked out of his life again, and he wasn't having any more luck getting her out of his system than last time.
Gray looked around the room, through the windows. It was a good house. A great family home, with sidewalks and a cul-de-sac for Magda to ride her Big Wheel. He could already envision Lori and Magda in the airy sunroom with the dollhouse and Barbies scattered around. The yard stretched for half an acre, with a gentle slope for sledding in the winter, flower beds in the summer.
And there was a deep, inviting hot tub in the master bath for after the kids went to sleep.
He couldn't stop the irrational hope that she was pregnant. Then neither of them would have to make a decision. Yeah, real honorable, pal. Force the woman to marry you.
God, he missed her even more than the past year.
Gray sifted the through stack of house listings in his hand. What a waste of time when he didn't know if he would be putting a family in one or not. Whether he and Lori had any future or not. The papers crumpled in his fist.
Time to find out.
He started to reach for his cell phone in his back pocket. His hand stalled midreach. Some things were better said in person, when she couldn't hang up on him or hide her eyes. He'd made a mistake in not going after her a year ago and talking it out. He wouldn't make the same one now.
A half hour to stop by the hotel to pack and he would be gone. And he would be bringing his service dress uniform, because if Lori was pregnant, they would be in front of a judge by morning.
Whether they ended up in front of a preacher or not, they would resolve this face-to-face.
Gray folded the listing for the current house into quarters and slid it in his pocket. He passed the rest of the stack to the sales agent. "I'll get back to you on this one later. I've got a plane to catch."
* * *
"Time to get a blood test."
"What?" A blood test? For a marriage license? Lori couldn't believe that's all Dr. Charming had to say after two endless weeks of silence.
Lori grabbed her doorknob for support and looked for a shotgun at Gray's back, because he certainly couldn't have said what she thought, of his own free will. There wasn't a rifle in sight, just a determined thrust to his stubborn jaw as he brushed past into her living room.
"Come on. Find your shoes. Purse. Whatever." He snagged a Raggedy Ann doll from the floor just before he stepped on it and placed it gently across a cradle. "We're going to the clinic to get a blood test."