Simply perfect.
* * *
Baby Bonus, a retail store stocked with furniture, clothing, bedding, strollers, high chairs, car seats and toys, offered the best selection in town.
Julianne and Bobby wandered the aisles, checking out every display.
"I like this," he said, stopping to admire a white crib trimmed in red. "The bedding is nice, too."
Julianne studied the sunburst print on the quilt. The man who lived in darkness and seclusion seemed determined to decorate the nursery in bright, vivid colors.
"I like it, too." She could imagine their baby sleeping in a room bursting with sunshine and candied apples. She moved toward a tiny rocking chair and smiled at the teddy bear occupying it "He's cute."
Bobby came up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist "This setup would work for a boy or a girl."
Julianne leaned back, relaxing against his body. He felt so strong, so right. A big, brawny cowboy who would protect his family, keep them safe and warm.
Am I part of his family? she wondered. Did conceiving his child make her more than a friend? More than a lover?
She kept telling herself that his refusal to undress in front of her wasn't a big deal. Yet deep down she knew it was.
Maybe the problem was more than just shedding his clothes. Maybe Bobby wasn't capable of giving a woman the security she needed.
He'd admitted that his wife had wanted more from him, that she'd argued over what he considered silly things.
Yet he still wore his wedding ring. A gold band that seemed far too significant.
So don't think about that, Julianne told herself. Don't dwell on Bobby's past. Think about the future, about the child they'd created.
She placed her hand over his, cradling their baby.
Wasn't a child more significant than a ring?
As he nibbled her ear, a delicious stream of pleasure snaked up her spine.
"I can't wait to touch you," he whispered.
He was touching her now, but she knew he spoke of something much more intimate.
"When will it happen?" she asked almost as quietly.
He slid his hands from her waist to her breasts, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples. "When do you want it to happen?"
Instantly aroused, Julianne pressed her bottom against his fly. "Tonight."
A hardness pressed back and she let a wave of dizziness wash over her.
Voices sounded at the end of the aisle. Bobby dropped his hands and she righted her posture and shot her gaze in the direction of the noise. Other shoppers. Another pregnant couple.
"Sorry," Bobby said.
"That's okay. I don't think they saw us."
He cleared his throat. "Hope not."
An unexpected smile twitched her lips. He always cleared his throat when he was nervous. Or embarrassed. Or battling to banish naughty thoughts.
Intrigued, she debated on hugging him, on holding on and never letting go. Suddenly she felt young again. Young and in love.
In love?
"We should buy him."
"What?" She blinked, tried to calm her jumping pulse.
"The teddy bear." Bobby strode over to the rocking chair and picked up the stuffed animal. "It'll be the baby's first toy."
A blast of panic struck her hard and quick. She'd fallen in love with him. This wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to let her emotions go that far.
He wiggled the bear's arms, making it dance, and she took a much-needed breath, fighting for oxygen.
"Sometimes I still can't believe this is happening." Furry brown feet kicked this time. "I'm actually going to be a dad."
She released the air in her lungs, and he smiled. "Do know you what's going on in there?" The teddy bear poked a playful paw at her tummy. "The baby's not much bigger than an inch, but its facial features are already formed. It's amazing, isn't it? Our kid probably looks like us, even now."
Us. The two of them.
Of course she loved him, she thought, watching those dark eyes crinkle. How could she not?
"We should wait until the baby is born to come up with names," he said. "That's the Cherokee way."
Still struggling for composure, she merely nodded. "In the early days, a Cherokee baby was named in a ceremony by an elder in the community. A Beloved Woman," he explained. "An older lady who held a place of honor among the people. But the name she chose wasn't always permanent. Later in life, a new name might be earned or given."
He tucked the teddy bear under his arm, clearly set on buying on it. "But things have changed. Today the father names a child."
And that was important to him, she realized. To adhere to tradition, to play a significant role in naming their baby.
"A lot of things have changed," he went on to say. "In an ancient Cherokee household, a man moved in with the woman he married, and he was restricted in his authority over the children. Now, a man is the undisputed head of the household."
She didn't know how to respond, not when his words barely applied. How could he be the head of the household when they didn't even live together?
"I want the baby to have my last name," he said.
Then marry me, Julianne thought hopelessly. Marry me.
When she remained quiet, a frown creased his brow. "Celeste did that for Michael. She gave him Cam's last name."
Because Celeste had loved your brother, she wanted to say. The way I love you.
"Is this conversation upsetting you?" he asked. "I'm not trying to discount your roots. We'll teach the baby about your heritage. About magic, myths and Irish folklore."
"I'm not upset." She looked into his eyes and saw her future, a need she couldn't deny. "Everything just seems to be happening so fast."
"I know. But we're figuring things out." He leaned into her, pulling her against his heart.
Julianne closed her eyes and listened to the strong, steady beats, praying that somewhere deep inside of him, he'd begun to fall in love with her, too.
* * *
Chapter 11
«^»
Hours after the shopping spree, Bobby pulled his truck onto the ranch and then remembered that he'd left his cell phone at the barn.
Should he stop now? Or deal with it later?
Now, he decided. He needed a few minutes to gather his wits, to prepare for the lovemaking ahead.
He didn't know if he should bring Julianne to his house or to hers. If he should burn candles, play soft music or draw a herbal-scented bath and let her relax first, soak in the tub by herself.
He wanted to do right by Julianne. But these days, romance eluded him.
When he looked over at her, she smiled, as spellbinding as an enchanted sprite. Orchids bloomed on her skirt and fire danced in her hair, warming his blood.
Bobby could almost taste the heat, the flames licking his skin. And like the hungry male he was, he could imagine taking her here, in the truck, with stars peeking down from a darkening sky.
In his truck? Was he crazy?
He hadn't had sex in a vehicle since he'd lost his virginity. And even then, he'd been nervous, an anxious teenage boy lacking finesse.
Apparently romance had eluded him in those days, too.
"I have to swing by my office," he said, parking at the side of the barn. "I left my cell phone there. Do you want to come in or would you prefer to wait here?"
"I'll go with you."
She brushed his hand and he steadied his breath. He couldn't remember wanting a woman as badly as he wanted Julianne. Not even Sharon.
Don't go there, he told himself guiltily. Don't compare your new lover to your dead wife.
They exited the truck and walked the short path to the building. Security lamps burned softly and a mild breeze blew, scenting the air with night-blooming fragrances.
He guided Julianne into the barn and they went straight to his office. He flipped on a light and closed the door, automatically locking it behind him.
"I'll only be a minute. Of
course, I should probably check my messages."
"Take your time. Is it okay if I make a cup of tea?"
"I don't think I've got any tea. But I'm pretty sure there's some hot chocolate. The instant stuff with the little marshmallows."
"That sounds even better."
She headed for the kitchenette and he sat at his desk and found his phone. So what was he going to do? Whose house should he take her to?
He supposed hers would be the logical choice. His might seem too presumptuous, even if she had agreed to be with him tonight.
By the time Bobby checked his messages, Julianne stood behind him, sipping chocolate.
She leaned over and put the cup on his desk. "I've been dying to unbraid your hair. To see how long it is."
He didn't turn around. "Really?"
"Mmm. Would you mind, Bobby?"
He closed his eyes. She was asking for permission to touch him, to send erotic shivers up and down his spine. "No, I don't mind."
She unbound the braid gently, working her hands into his hair, combing through the dark mass with agile fingers.
"It's beautiful," she said.
He opened his eyes, felt his body harden. "So is yours. I have fantasies about your hair, Julianne." He turned in his chair, then rose to kiss her.
Their lips met, as warm and moist as a summer rain. She tasted sweet, like swirling chocolate and melting marshmallows. He stroked her tongue; she sucked on his. Within seconds, they were devouring each other in a hot, voracious kiss.
He pulled back and their gazes locked and held. "I've been going crazy. Wondering how to please you. What to do to make this right."
"Just love me," she said.
"Here? Now?"
"Yes."
That was all it took. One word. One need.
He reached for her blouse and unbuttoned it. The silk melted in his hands as he let it fall to the floor. Her skirt came next. He slid the pleated circle down her hips and she stepped out of the elastic waistband.
Bobby couldn't have dreamed this; he couldn't have planned for it to unfold the way it did.
She stood in front of him in a white bra and simple panties. She looked so delicate, so trusting, in bits of cotton and lace.
He took a moment to appreciate that her legs were bare, that she wore nothing but skin.
Smooth, creamy skin.
When he unhooked her bra and discarded it, he filled his hands with her breasts.
Soft, he thought as he rubbed his thumbs around the darkened areolas. "Pretty," he said out loud as her nipples hardened from his touch.
Anxious, he went after her panties, and she held on to his shoulders while he removed them.
He guided her toward the chair. She sat and looked up at him, clearly wondering what he had in store.
Bobby lowered himself to the floor, finding a comfortable position in front of her. Recognition dawned in her eyes and he smiled.
She still wore her shoes, a pair of strappy sandals that tied around her ankles. He tugged at the crisscross of leather.
"Bondage," he said.
She laughed, her hair falling forward, draping her face. "I'm a little kinky."
"So am I." He grabbed her hips, scooted her to the edge of the chair and pulled her toward his mouth.
The air in her lungs whooshed out and he knew he'd aroused her good and proper.
She bucked on contact and he took what he wanted, what they both craved. He tasted her, encouraging her to press closer, to rub against him.
He deepened his next kiss, licking and teasing, swirling with his tongue. She arched her back and made a needy sound.
Nothing mattered but this moment, he thought.
This feeling. This woman.
She played with his unbound hair, touched his face, his mouth, his tongue. He licked her fingers and pressed them inside of her, making her stroke herself.
She gasped and he glanced up her. She looked down at him and, for a moment, they just stared at each other.
It was, he thought, the single most erotic instant of his life.
He kissed her again, as intimately as he could. Julianne climaxed against his mouth, her body going taunt, then molten, then taut again.
Bobby rose to his feet, taking her with him. Desire churned, stiff and erect in his jeans. He could still taste her release, the sweet, musky flavor.
He lifted her onto his desk, tore off his shirt and battled his belt.
His breath burned his throat; his mind went foggy. He fought for control, told himself to slow down.
Don't hurry. Don't let this end too soon.
He unzipped his pants, waited a beat, freed himself.
When he slipped into her, Julianne pulled her hands through his hair.
He quivered like a stallion, nibbling her neck, breathing in her scent. She wrapped her legs around him, and he bit back the urge to take, to ravish.
With care, with caution, he moved, determined to love her reverently.
She kissed him in response and he slid his hands over her breasts, around her hips and let the sensation linger on her tummy.
She touched him, too, caressing muscle and bone, hard edges and rough planes.
He pushed deeper, increased the rhythm, pleasuring himself, arousing her.
They danced on water, on a wave as mystical as the shimmer in her eyes, as green as a Celtic sea. Time passed and his heart beat with every stroke, every rocking motion.
Sighs, sweet surrender, unspoken promises.
When she climaxed, he could have sworn he'd seen it happen, seen it swirl through her body in a prism of melting colors.
In the glowing aftermath she blinked and smiled, bringing him closer.
Unable to refuse the invitation, Bobby spilled into her and let himself fall, collapsing in the warm, willing circle of his lover's arms.
* * *
The following day Bobby did his damnedest to stay away. He worked with the horses, tried to keep his mind busy, his body labored.
But both kept thinking about Julianne.
Cursing his weakness, he got in his truck, hoped he'd find her at home. He drove too fast, slowed down, considered turning back to the barn.
But in the end, he kept heading in her direction, too damn anxious to be near her, to ask her on a date.
Not a good sign, he told himself.
But hey, he was only human. And the sex had been incredible. Why wouldn't he want to spend more time with her?
He parked in front of the cabin and saw her sitting on the porch steps, with Chester at her side.
What was that mutt doing here? The big lummox had his head in her lap, probably drooling all over her dress.
Bobby got out of his truck, and Julianne acknowledged him, but the first words out of her mouth were about the dog.
"He just showed up at my doorstep," she said, scratching behind Chester's Dumbo ears. "Do you think he's a stray?"
Bobby gave Chester a narrow-eyed look and the mutt snuggled closer to Julianne. "That's Michael's dog. The most spoiled beast you'd ever want to meet."
"Really? He doesn't act spoiled."
Was she kidding? "He eats table scraps, whines for attention and sleeps on Michael's bed. Believe me, Chester gets whatever he wants."
"Chester? Oh, that's cute." She kissed the top of the mutt's ugly head. "You're a good boy, aren't you?"
Yeah, a good boy. Bobby sat next to the dog and Chester snubbed his nose at him.
"What are you trying to pull?" he asked the dog, nudging the mixed breed with his elbow.
Chester made a pathetic sound.
"Oh, I get it. Your redhead wasn't available today, so you're moving in on mine."
"Are you referring to me?" Julianne asked, her eyes bright and curious.
Too curious.
Uncomfortable, Bobby shrugged. Why did women have to analyze everything a man said? "That was guy talk."
"Guy talk?
"Chester has a crush on an Irish setter."
"A redhe
ad," she commented.
"Yeah, and I told him about you and me. That we had sex and made a baby."
"You told the dog … oh, my." She turned away, restraining a giggle.
"It seemed like the thing to do at the time." He frowned at the back of her head. "Knock it off, Julianne. It isn't funny."
"Yes, it is."
When she turned back around, Chester woofed and she gave in and laughed. Her dimple surfaced, then disappeared, playing an intriguing game of peekaboo.
Bobby smiled, taking a moment to enjoy the woman and the dog.
A few quiet minutes later she asked, "Do you want some iced tea?"
"Sure." He followed her inside, Chester on their heels. She'd spruced up the house with potted plants and baskets of dried flower petals, adding touches of who she was.
Spending time at his old place wasn't as difficult as he'd assumed it would be. At least not with Julianne here, making the cabin seem like a home again.
She handed him a tall glass of tea sweetened with sugar and garnished with a lemon wedge.
"Thanks." He took a sip, deciding Julianne looked like a wood nymph with her garden-printed dress and bare feet.
No wonder Chester couldn't resist her. The dog sat on the tiled floor, staring up at her with big, droopy eyes.
"Is it all right if I feed him?" she asked.
"I don't see why not. Michael gives him all kinds of junk."
She opened the fridge and came up with some leftover corned beef and cabbage. Chester wiggled as she picked through it, separating a few slices of beef and placing them in a plastic bowl.
The dog gulped up what she gave him. Chester should probably get used to Irish meals, Bobby thought, considering he had his heart set on an Irish setter.
"Do you think I could try some of that?" he asked.
"Oh, of course." She spooned the rest of the leftovers onto a plate and heated it in the microwave.
When it was ready, she handed it to him, along with a fork and a bottle of vinegar.
He eyed the bottle warily. "What am I supposed to do with this?"
"Season your meal. Haven't you ever eaten corned beef and cabbage before?"
"No." But he was determined to acquire a taste for it, the way he'd acquired a taste for petite redheads.
She watched him take a bite and he tried not to feel self-conscious. He'd awakened this morning wishing she were beside him and cursing the reason she wasn't.
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