*
“I HEAR CONGRATULATIONS are in order!” The moment Heath ushered Libby through his mother’s back door, Gretta rushed from the kitchen to the screened porch to wrap her in a warm hug. “I’m so proud of you!”
“Thank you. It really was an amazing day. I made a little over fifteen hundred dollars, which means I can repay you for room and board and Heath for gas money and medical bills and all the supplies he bought for my booth, and hopefully still have enough left to fix my car.”
“I can’t speak for my son,” Gretta said, “but as much as I appreciate your offer, I refuse to take one cent of your hard-earned money. Save it for getting home. I’m sure your parents will be thrilled to see you.”
Libby paled. “I wish. Anyway, let me at least treat everyone to pizza.”
“Too late.” Morris held a pot in the crook of one arm, and nudged the porch’s screen door open with his other. “To celebrate Libby’s big day, I made spaghetti.”
Long after their delicious meal and Heath had helped his uncle clean the kitchen and Gretta had gone to bed, Heath walked the dogs with Morris and helped him close up the diner.
Back at his mom’s, he’d selfishly hoped Libby would have also called it a night, but she sat on the back porch, reading.
The dogs were ecstatic to see her, but then he supposed he’d be excited, too, if she rubbed his belly and lavished him with praise.
“Those two worship you,” he said. “They’re going to miss you when your car finally gets fixed.”
“I’ll miss them.” Was that a wistful note in her voice?
She winced when she leaned back in her chair.
“You okay?” he asked.
Nodding, she pressed her fingertips to her temples. “It’s just been a long day—wonderful—but long. My body’s one giant ache.”
“Sounds like you need a good soak in a tub.”
“Ha! As heavenly as that sounds, even if I fit, I’d never be able to get out.”
An idea popped into his head. “While I was waiting for these mutts to do their business, I noticed steam rising off the pool. It’s bathtub warm. Wanna soak in there?”
“I couldn’t...”
“Why not?”
“For one, I don’t have a suit. And two, what if someone saw me?” The way she looked down made him wonder if she was specifically concerned about him seeing her. Why? He’d always found pregnant women beautiful. She was no different.
“Sounds like a lot of lame excuses to me. We’ll turn off the lights. If we’re quiet, there’s no way anyone would see us.”
“I couldn’t...”
“Chicken? Haven’t you ever skinny-dipped?”
“Heath!” She pressed her palms to her cheeks, but even in the dim light he’d have sworn he saw her blush.
“What? It’s fun. Come on...” He held out his hand. “I dare you.”
Chapter Ten
“Don’t look!” Libby whispered, praying none of the motel guests were up. Though it was nearly midnight, there was the odd chance someone could still be about. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”
“Best as I can recall,” he said from the deep end, “it wasn’t too hard. How was I supposed to know you’ve never turned down a dare?”
“Lucky guess?” It was no easy feat removing her panties. Her bra proved even worse. It was the anticipation of escaping the awful pressure of the baby’s weight, if only for a little while, that drove her toward the pool even more than Heath’s challenge.
The cloudy night provided the perfect cover, and soon enough, she’d immersed herself in liquid bliss. Her formerly pendulous breasts floated high and she barely felt the weight of her belly. Pleasurable relief washed through her in waves. Was this how good she’d feel upon finally giving birth? No—even better, since her daughter would finally be in her arms.
“How is it?” Heath asked from barely five feet away.
“Better than sex,” she said without thinking, immediately regretting her choice of words.
He laughed. “Damn, if it’s that good, maybe you haven’t been doing it right?”
“You’re awful!” She splashed water his way.
“Me? You’re the one who first mentioned the S word.”
“Whatever.” Eyes closed, she leaned backward into a float, relishing the night’s inky cloak. The dark lent her a freedom she hadn’t found in a long time, and she was determined to steal every trace of contentment.
The water’s warm hold made her eyelids heavy, and before too long, she couldn’t be sure if the heady experience was merely a dream.
Cool breeze licked her hypersensitive nipples, bringing on a yearning for the kind of man’s touch that had landed her in this position.
“You really are beautiful.”
“Oh—sorry. I didn’t know you were there.” Startled to find she’d unwittingly floated alongside Heath, she tried standing, but the water was too deep.
For a moment she floundered, but as always seemed to be the case, he was right there at the rescue. Only when her baby bump brushed against his bare six-pack, all manner of havoc coursed through her.
“Oh, my God...” he murmured, still holding her unnecessarily close, but she wasn’t complaining. If she’d thought merely floating had felt good, being held by Heath proved a decadence beyond measure. She didn’t dare breath for fear of him letting her go. “You feel so good.”
He held her tighter still, nuzzling her neck, burying his face in her wet hair as if he were breathing her in.
His erection was no secret.
The humming awareness between her legs was most unexpected, and yet suddenly all-consuming.
In the water’s warm, dark cocoon, they could’ve been anywhere in time or space, and when their lips met, it was by some unspoken yet mutual admission that whatever happened next, they were both adults and more than okay with it.
He kissed her like a man starved, and she answered his tongue’s bold sweep, seeking to fill hungers all her own. For far too long she’d needed to be wanted, desired, and he made her feel all of that and more.
When she wrapped her legs around him and he entered her, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. It’d been so long for both that neither lasted long, but long enough for mutual satisfaction to soon be found.
Finished, she sighed against him, resting her cheek on his strong shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he said, completely spoiling the moment. “I had no intention of doing that. It just happened.”
“I know,” she said, more for his benefit than her own. He was feeling guilty again. And she...well, she wasn’t sure what she felt, other than regret that he was once again apologizing when what they’d shared had been special—at least for her.
Tears stung her eyes and as they drifted apart, she felt safe silently shedding them from a distance where he wouldn’t be able to see. But then what would it matter if he did?
Obviously, what they’d shared had been nothing more than satisfying urges.
But if that were entirely so, why did her tears feel as if they might never stop?
“I’ll grab a few towels,” he said, already leaving the pool.
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him not to bother, but what would that accomplish, other than ensuring a cold, soggy walk to the house? “Thanks.”
“I am sorry,” he said upon his return from the utility room.
“Stop. Don’t you have any idea how horrible that makes me feel? I mean, I know we don’t share any real connection, but I’d like to think we’re at least friends.”
“We are,” he said, holding out a towel for her to step into, while politely looking away.
“And you don’t have to act as if the sight of a naked woman will turn you to stone, Heath—especially considering what just happened.”
“Forgive me for trying to be a gentleman.”
She snorted. “I think you’ve already missed the mark on that.”
“So you’re sa
ying you didn’t want to be with me?”
Sighing, she wrapped the oversize towel sarong-style around her. “That’s not what I said at all. If you were truly concerned about coming across as a gentleman, you’d still be holding me in the pool.”
“I can’t. You know that. I’m—”
“No—don’t you dare say you’re still with Patricia, because point of fact, like it or not, she’s dead. No matter how hard you brood or pout or wish for her return, it’s not going to happen, Heath. Meanwhile, here you are, very much alive, obviously with just as many needs as the rest of us mere mortals, yet there you go, running off to pretend what we shared didn’t happen. Well—newsflash—it did! And having you inside me felt wonderful and life affirming and I’m not sorry!” The moment the words left her lips, Libby regretted them.
Even more so when Heath pitched his load of towels to the pool deck, then yanked on his jeans, T-shirt and leather sandals before storming away. He didn’t even walk toward the house, but headed to the road.
“Heath? I’m sorry!” she shouted after him. “I don’t mean to sound cruel, but you can’t go on living this way, pining for your dead wife. It’s not really living at all.”
He kept walking. He didn’t so much as turn around to acknowledge her words.
Hugging herself, once again feeling gravity’s crushing weight upon her pregnant body, Libby felt terrible about the hurt her words had inflicted on Heath.
Of course, he rationally understood Patricia was never coming back. But in his heart? She feared that may be an entirely different matter.
*
HEATH RAN ALL THE WAY to the crashing shore. His lungs and thighs burned, but he didn’t care. Nothing mattered except running from the pain caused by not only Libby’s harsh words, but his own outrageous actions.
What had he been thinking?
Obviously, he hadn’t been thinking.
But what was he supposed to do about it now? An act like this couldn’t be undone. There’d be repercussions.
Even worse, he didn’t get his cabin back until Mason and crew left on the fifth to visit family in Alaska, meaning Heath had three more days trapped in the same house as Libby. Or did he?
Sure, it was the height of summer tourism season, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t just pop a tent somewhere—anywhere—if it meant avoiding her.
Sure it’s her you’re avoiding, buddy? Or the way she makes you feel—not just alive, but good. Happy. Not remotely depressed. Even worse, when you’re with Libby, you stop dwelling on the past.
Heath picked up a rock and hurled it with a mighty roar at the angry Pacific.
When would he stop feeling this way? When would he be able to forgive Patricia for leaving him and himself for not being able to keep his promise to her to never be with another woman?
The really ironic part about his situation was that Patricia never wanted this limbo for him. She’d made deathbed pleas for him to not only find someone else to love, but to live a life full enough for the both of them. She’d made him promise to follow through on all of their shared dreams—have kids and a great house. Take family vacations and grow old with someone while their children grew into adults and had children of their own.
Patricia had dearly wanted all of that for him, but in those agonizing moments when he’d watched life drain from her body, he’d wanted nothing more than to keep her with him always.
In those moments, he’d made his own promise.
I’ll love you forever, he’d cried, holding her to him, refusing to let go until a nurse gently intervened. I promise to never love any woman the way I love you.
Sitting hard on the rocky shore, he planted his hands behind him for support and crossed his legs at the ankles.
Tipping his head back, he looked to the sky for answers, but heavy cloud cover only made him feel more alone.
*
“YOU SLEPT LATE this morning,” Gretta said when Libby wandered her way from the bedroom to the kitchen. “Feel better?”
I wish. “Great. Thanks.”
“I was thinking, since yesterday was such a busy day, you should probably use today to rest. So how about a nice beach picnic? Morris loves cooking over a campfire, and we could wrangle a few harrowing SEAL stories out of Heath.”
Oh, have I got a story for you! “Um, that sounds nice, but let’s play it by ear. I’m really not feeling up to much.”
“Of course. I’m sorry. Here I am planning out your afternoon when you haven’t even had breakfast. Would you like eggs or oatmeal?”
“I can get it. Please, go on with whatever you were doing. I’m pregnant—not an invalid.” Libby didn’t mean to be short with Gretta, but she just wasn’t in the mood for hovering. Come to think of it, she wasn’t in the mood for much of anything other than hiding under the covers until her baby girl decided she was ready to enter the world. “I’m sorry. Guess after all of yesterday’s excitement, I’m feeling kind of blah.”
“That’s understandable,” Gretta said, ushering her to a kitchen table chair. “But you still have your talk with the gallery owner to look forward to. What was her name? Zoe?”
Libby nodded.
“Maybe Heath can drive you to Coos Bay on Monday? It’s a lovely area. You can make a whole day of it.”
Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to happen.
For an instant, Libby closed her eyes, wishing Heath’s angry glare wasn’t the first image popping into her mind.
“I would take you myself, but with the motel fully booked I really should stay here. You know, in case we run out of towels or there’s a plumbing emergency. And speaking of towels, I can’t believe how rude some guests are. There’s a metal bin near the pool that’s plainly marked for used towels, yet I found at least five of them just tossed to the pool deck this morning. What’s wrong with people these days? Were they raised in barns?”
Heat rose up Libby’s neck, flaming her cheeks.
If Gretta knew the truth behind how those towels had been strewn, she’d no doubt suffer from an apoplectic fit.
“Will you be all right if I go throw another load in the washer?”
“Of course. Is there anything around here you need me to do?”
“Not particularly. Thanks for the offer but I’d rather you rest. You’ve had enough excitement for one weekend.”
Wasn’t that the truth!
“Oh—and when Heath wakes up, ask him about the picnic. I really think it’ll be fun.”
If your idea of a good time includes chilling with a morose, brooding, foul-tempered, miserable wretch of a man.
Just as Gretta left out the back door, Fred wandered over. He sat. Scratched a bit at his tummy, then plopped back on his haunches to stare at her expectantly.
“You think food solves everything, don’t you?”
He barked.
She fished a few dog biscuits from the canister Gretta kept on the counter, then tossed them to the begging dog.
“Where’s Sam?” Since Fred wasn’t answering, Libby made a sweep of the house, only to come up empty. Not only was Sam not home, but neither was Heath.
Her anger with Heath morphed to worry when she found that the bedding Gretta set out for him every night had been left untouched. Had he been gone all night? Should she launch a search?
In her room, she dressed in maternity shorts and a draping floral blouse, slipped her feet into sandals and ran a brush through her hair.
In the kitchen, she checked Fred’s food and water bowl, only to find them both full.
“Hold down the fort,” she said to the dog before creaking open the back door.
Outside, the day was far too pretty to suit her dark mood.
Why couldn’t Heath just be a normal guy? Sleep with her, thank her for a good time, then leave? Why’d he have to storm off, making her worry about his emotional well-being?
Moreover, why couldn’t she just let him be? Why did it matter how he felt, because it was obvious that after what they’d shared, he
couldn’t give two figs about her frame of mind.
But then why should he? For all practical purposes, as pleasurable as their union had been, it was essentially a one-night stand—not anything she’d ever imagined herself indulging in, but if she had to put a label on it, there was nothing else their impromptu hook-up could be called.
That said, she was deeply sorry for bringing up his obsession with Patricia. First and foremost of the issues she planned to discuss, that one topped her list.
When she’d shuffled her way around the motel’s lot and found Heath’s truck, but no sign of Heath, Libby decided to take her search further by borrowing his keys.
She’d made it to the house and back to the truck without being seen when Gretta emerged from one of the guest cabins with her arms laden with bed linens.
“Where are you off to?” Heath’s mom asked. “And where’s my son? I’d feel better about you leaving if you have someone to keep an eye on you.”
“Actually—” Libby crossed her fingers behind her back for the fib she was about to tell “—Heath just called the house phone. He’s with Sam, and they walked a little too far. He, um, asked me to pick them up.”
“Why is he bothering you? He knows you’re supposed to be resting.”
“I’m feeling great.” Libby hated lying again, but in this case it couldn’t be helped. She not only needed to find Heath, but talk to him. And it wasn’t a conversation Gretta needed to be a party to.
“If you’re sure you’re okay. But be back soon. Morris and I still want to try for an afternoon picnic. Oh, and when you grab Heath, tell him to invite Mason and Hattie and their kiddos. Just to be neighborly, I think I’ll even call Hal and his boys.”
“Sounds good.”
Hattie had hauled herself behind the truck’s steering wheel when Gretta shouted, “Libby, hon, wait up! You didn’t even tell me where you were going!”
Vowing to ask forgiveness after she came home with Gretta’s son, Libby pretended to not hear Heath’s mom or see her chasing after the truck in the rearview mirror. Thankfully, the circle drive allowed her to make a clean getaway before Gretta could catch up.
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