Obediently George sat. Then without waiting for further direction, he hoisted Lily up on the arm of the chair, then tugged Sophy down onto his lap.
“George!” she protested as she bounced onto his thighs. But he simply wrapped a strong arm around her and tugged her back hard against him. And Sophy had no will or desire to protest. She could feel his breath against the back of her neck. It made her knees weak.
“Smile,” Elias commanded and snapped the picture. He studied the image. “Not bad.” He took another and another. “Yeah,” he smiled at the last one. “That’ll do.”
Each of the boys then got to have their picture taken with their new sister. And Elias took one of Lily holding Thea, too, because he said, “You girls have to stick together.”
Picture taking done, it was time to take the children home.
“Could you guys stay the night?” Elias asked as they were leaving. Under his elation he looked ragged and strained, his cheeks stubbled, his hair uncombed, his shirttails hanging loose. “I hate to ask you. I know you’ve been there all day. But—” he shook his head wearily “—I want to stay here. I need to stay here tonight.” He glanced back across the room at Tallie, who was holding Thea again. And there was such tender longing in his gaze that Sophy touched his arm.
She understood his words. Understood his need. Thea’s birth had been difficult and scary. No one said so, but all the adults knew it could have had a very different outcome. “Of course,” she said. “I’ll stay. George will have to see to Gunnar, but—”
“I’ll go home and put him out, then I’ll be back,” George said. “You stay with Tallie.”
Elias gave them a grateful smile. “Thanks. I’ll be home to take Nick and Garrett to school. And I’ll bring Digger back here with me.”
“Take as long as you need,” Sophy told him. “We’ll be fine.”
She took the kids home in a taxi while George caught the subway back to the Upper West Side. She oversaw baths and snacks and was letting the twins read in their beds while she read to Lily and Digger when George returned bringing a backpack with a change of clothes for her and Lily. His were in his briefcase, he told her. And he had to leave early to go home and put Gunnar out again before he headed up to the lab for a meeting with some high-powered grant people early the next morning.
“I’m afraid I’m sticking you with a lot,” he said. “I’d change it if I could. But it’s a meeting we’ve had on the books for weeks.”
“Not a problem,” Sophy assured him. “Why don’t you read to the kids while I clean up the kitchen?” It was in the same state they’d left it when they’d gone to the hospital right after they’d eaten.
“I could clean up the kitchen if you’d rather,” George offered.
Sophy shook her head. “You read. Lily likes it when you read to her. You do the best growly voices,” she quoted their daughter with a smile.
George smiled, too, a slow and, to Sophy’s eyes, sexy smile that curled her toes. “A man’s gotta use his talents,” he said in his best growly voice. Then he winked and headed upstairs.
Sophy rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, then turned it on and wiped off the table and countertops. She didn’t get to hear the growly voices because George was up in their bedrooms. When she finished, she climbed the stairs, but it was quiet.
One peek in the back bedroom showed her that Digger and Lily were already fast asleep. Nick, too, was sprawled fast asleep in the top bunk of the room he and Garrett shared. Garrett still had his nose in a book. She didn’t see George.
Then she heard a noise and turned to see him coming out of the bedroom at the front of the house, carrying a pile of laundry in his arms.
“I changed the sheets in Tallie and Elias’s room,” he said.
And that was when Sophy realized there was only one bed.
The look on her face must have betrayed her realization. George’s expression didn’t really change so much as his eyes seemed to shutter for an instant before he said, “You don’t have to share it, Sophy. Not if you don’t want to.”
But even as he said the words, Sophy knew she did.
“I do,” she said, meeting his hooded gaze and feeling rather as if she were making a vow. “If you do.”
A muscle in George’s jaw ticked and a corner of his mouth lifted. “Oh, yeah.”
She gave him a tremulous smile and reached out to take the sheets from him. Their fingers brushed. “I’ll just take these downstairs and turn off the lights.”
George was waiting when she got back. He had turned down the bed and left on only the single small reading lamp by the bed. “Do you want a shower?” he asked.
She nodded, then made a face. “I feel like I’m covered with peanut butter and jelly and mac and cheese.”
He grinned. “A little boy’s delight.” But the look he gave her, though hungry, was far from boyish. He raised his brows. “Want me to wash your back?”
Sophy wet her lips nervously. “That would be…lovely.”
Their eyes met and Sophy felt the awareness tingle all the way to her toes.
And it was. He took his time undressing her, peeling her sweater over her head, then stopping to kiss her neck before proceeding. She fumbled with the buttons of his shirt and felt like an idiot when he did them for her.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
“I’m just impatient,” he said, a rough tremor in his voice. “It’s been a long time.”
Never, in fact. They had never taken a shower together. He had never washed her back. And by the time they were undressed, it wasn’t clear that they were going to take one together this time, either—or if their desire would lead them straight to bed.
But just then George, kissing her cheek, murmured, “Mmm, grape, I think,” and Sophy laughed.
“Yes, shower time for sure,” she decided, and stepped in. Fortunately George had already turned it on, so the water was warm. So was the slick wet body of the man who stepped in behind her, who reached around to cup her breasts and nibble his way along her shoulders.
“I thought you were going to wash my back,” Sophy said, shivering with delight at the feel of his lips on her skin and at the press of his erection against her bottom. She leaned back into him, moved.
George groaned. “Getting there,” he muttered and went right back to nibbling. But one hand did leave her breasts long enough to snag the soap. He skated it over her belly, then slowly and sensuously worked up a lather, which he spread over her breasts, along her ribs and around to her back.
But washing her back meant stepping away, leaving space between them. And just as she was about to object to that, George turned her in his arms and wrapped them around her, rubbing soapy hands over her back while his chest and her breasts got better acquainted. Then his hands dipped lower, slid between her legs.
Sophy’s knees trembled. Her breath caught. She ran her hands up his abdomen, then caressed his chest, his flat belly, his sex.
A breath hissed out from between George’s teeth. “Soph,” he warned.
But Sophy was beyond warning. She was learning his body all over again. She touched her tongue to his nipples. She scraped her fingernails along his ribs. She smiled at the low growl of need and pleasure when she stroked him.
At that touch his whole body went rigid.
“George?”
“Just…getting a grip,” he said through his teeth. His eyes were dark as midnight, glazed with desire.
“I could…get a grip,” she murmured.
He gave a strangled half laugh. “Don’t.”
“No?”
He shook his head. “It will be better…this way.” And he rinsed his hands, then grasped her ribs and lifted her.
Instinctively Sophy wrapped her legs around him and felt him fill her. Her breath caught.
“All right?” George held her, didn’t move.
Sophy nodded, putting her arms around him, giving a little wiggle that made him bite his lip.
“A
h,” he breathed. And then he began to move.
Sophy’s nails bit into his shoulders. Her heels pressed against the backs of his thighs. And as they moved she felt the tension grow, the power surge between them, felt her body tighten and then shatter around George even as he came within her.
He sagged back against the shower wall, still holding her, wrapping her tight. And Sophy clung to him as she tried to find words to express what this meant to her. But the words were lost in the emotion. Her heart was too full. And when she tried, when she lifted her face to look at him, and saw him looking down at her, his gaze dark and intent, no words would come.
He stroked her face with the tips of his fingers, then touched his lips to hers. “Beautiful,” he said.
Yes, just one word. She could live with that.
They washed all the soap off. They dried each other slowly and carefully. And then George took her to bed and they made love all over again.
Sophy said it now as she curled into George’s side and rested her cheek against his chest. He was already asleep. But it didn’t matter. She could tell him tomorrow. She could tell him every day for the rest of their lives.
She would, too.
George would have preferred to stay in bed with his wife.
His wife. The words made him smile.
When his watch alarm went off at five-thirty, he briefly debated calling up his colleagues and grad students and the grant from Washington and telling them so, then grinned as he imagined the dropped jaws and the sputtering that would greet any such announcement.
He turned his smile on Sophy, who slept curled against his side, her cheek resting on her hand. There had been no tears last night. No Ari, hovering like a specter, over their lovemaking. This time she was his—wholly and completely.
George bent his head and pressed a light but possessive kiss to her cheek. Then, because there was never any doubt about what he had to do, he levered himself quietly out of bed and headed to the bathroom.
He took a quick shower, trying not to let his mind linger on the memories of what had happened in this shower just scant hours before when he’d last stood under this spray—with Sophy in his arms.
But it wasn’t easy, especially when the merest recollection had him ready to go back to the bedroom, slide back into bed next to her and take things up all over again.
Deliberately he turned the water to cool, then cold. It helped, but not much.
He shaved, dressed and combed his hair, then went into the bedroom to put on his shoes. It was still quite dark and his eyes, unaccustomed to the dimness, didn’t notice that Sophy was awake until she said sleepily, “Good morning.”
He could hear the smile in her voice. George smiled, too, then finished tying his shoe and crossed the room to bend over the bed and kiss her. “Good morning yourself.”
She shoved herself up on one elbow and looped her other arm around his neck, deepening the kiss, making him ache.
God, he wanted her. He glanced at his watch. It was still too dark to make out the time, But he knew he didn’t have enough without even looking. Regretfully he pulled back from her embrace. “I have to go, Soph.”
She sighed. “I know.” She settled back against the pillow and he could feel her gaze on him as he tried to knot his tie in the dark. “Do you always do what you have to do, George?”
“What?” He threaded the end through the loop, then frowned. “Pretty much. Doesn’t everyone?”
“Ari didn’t.”
Ari! Damn it to hell! Was it still Ari? Was it always going to be Ari?
“I’m not Ari,” George said through his teeth.
“I know that.”
“I’m not ever going to be Ari,” he went on, jerking his tie tight, practically strangling himself.
“You married me because of Ari,” she said quietly.
He sucked in a breath, wanting to deny it entirely but knowing that he owed her the truth. “Yeah, I did.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “And I’m sorry I did,” he added harshly because God knew that was the truth, too. “I shouldn’t have done it.”
Sophy sucked in a sharp breath, but she didn’t speak. She didn’t move. She didn’t say a word.
George ground his teeth, then glanced at his watch and could finally see the hands well enough to know there was absolutely no time to discuss and explain anything as important as this right now. He raked a hand through his hair, undoing everything the comb had accomplished minutes before.
Then he sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “But we can make this work, Soph. But right now I have to get to this meeting…”
Sophy lifted a hand and gave it an almost dismissive wave. “Go,” she said quietly. “By all means, just go.”
Chapter Eleven
SOPHY DIDN’T TELL Elias they were leaving New York when she and Lily left the house that morning.
She just said goodbye to George’s brother-in-law and told him what a wonderful family he had and how lucky he was to have them. And if she teared up a little saying it, well, the adults in the house were all a little emotional that morning.
Elias was still a bit rattled from his daughter’s birth. He still looked tired, and he was clearly distracted, busily chivying the twins into the car to go to school and then putting Digger in his car seat so they could go from school directly back to the hospital to see Tallie and Thea. He didn’t notice the quaver in her voice at all. He was simply very grateful she had stayed the night.
“We’ll have you guys over when we’re home and organized,” he promised. “Tallie will want to say thanks. And the boys will want Lily to come over.”
“Thank you,” Sophy replied because it was all she needed to say. She and Lily saw them off, Sophy did up the breakfast dishes and then they took the subway back to George’s.
“Where’s Daddy?” Lily wanted to know. “Where did he go?”
“To the lab,” Sophy said. “He had an early meeting.”
“So we couldn’t go with him,” Lily said. “Maybe we could go now?” she suggested brightly after a thoughtful moment’s consideration. “We could take the kites.”
“No,” Sophy said. She had almost said, “Not today.” But that wouldn’t have been fair. That would have been misleading. “No,” she repeated. “We have to go—” she almost said home, too, and stopped herself before she did “—back to the house and let out Gunnar.” Then she took a deep breath and added, “And then we have to go home.”
“Gunnar is home,” Lily said, misunderstanding.
Which just made it that much harder. “No, to our home. With Natalie and Christo. In California.”
Lily shook her head. “This is our home,” she said. “With Daddy.”
Sophy didn’t argue. She tried another angle. “It’s Daddy’s home. And you can come stay sometimes—” because that was obviously necessary now “—but it’s not my home. And I need to go home, Lily.”
“But—” Lily might only be four, but she had mastered the art of argument.
Sophy tuned it out. She stared straight ahead and didn’t listen, though doubtless everyone else in the subway car was. It was a blessed relief to get to their 86th St. stop and get off.
Gunnar was delighted to see them. Lily took him out in back and threw tennis balls for him, pointedly ignoring her mother since Sophy had ignored her arguments. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than the alternative, which was Lily kicking and screaming her way back to California.
Sophy stood in the living room, waiting for an airline ticket agent to take her call, simultaneously looking through the window down at Lily and Gunnar, and remembered the day George had been there with them. She remembered his arm around Lily, their two heads close together as he’d talked to her about the dog. It was then that she’d begun to let her defenses crack. She should have known better.
Well, now she did. She wiped a tear away just as the agent came on the line.
“I need two tickets to Los Angeles,” Sophy said. “
Yes, for today.”
George was not distractable.
His single-mindedness was legendary, his preparation exemplary. He always focused on the object at hand. And he never ever, as his father was fond of saying, got emotionally involved. He was perennially practical and perpetually unperturbed.
Except today.
Today he had to fight to keep his concentration focused on the meeting taking place. He was thinking about Sophy. He had to struggle to remember the details that usually sprung from his lips at the slightest question. He was remembering their night together and the way she closed up on him this morning.
He said, “Sorry?” And “What?” and once he even said, “Huh?” which had his colleagues confused and his grad students befuddled and made the grantors scratch their heads and say they thought they’d like to come back and discuss the project another day.
“Good idea,” George said briskly, grabbing at the possibility of an early departure. “Let’s do that.”
“Here’s your hat, what’s your hurry?” Karl VanOstrander, the senior physicist on the committee murmured.
“What?” George was already stuffing papers in his briefcase.
Karl just shook his head and clapped George on the shoulder. “Nice to see you’re human,” he said.
George didn’t realize there had ever been any doubt. But he just nodded absently and headed off to the station at a brisk pace.
He tried calling Sophy’s phone as soon as he was on the train, wanting to know whether he should come back to Elias and Tallie’s or go to his own place. He supposed he should stop at his place even if Sophy was still at Tallie’s. Gunnar would need letting out.
She didn’t answer, so he called Tallie and Elias’s. No one answered there, either, which didn’t precisely help him know where she was. She might even be at the hospital seeing Tallie and the baby.
He cracked his knuckles and punched in Sophy’s number again.
In the end he decided to go back to his place. Gunnar would need out. And if Sophy wasn’t there, he could always grab clean clothes for all of them and head back over to Brooklyn.
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