The Baby Trail (Baby Bonds #2)

by Karen Rose Smith

  Garrett’s hands were on Gwen. Gwen’s hands were on Garrett. Their clothes were definitely in the way.

  The fire threw both light and dark shadows. At one moment Gwen could see Garrett’s face clearly. At another, he angled his head and the darkness in the room concealed the lines on his face and any emotion in his eyes. As she had before, Gwen waited for flashes of light when she could see hunger and desire. Then she could convince herself there was even more.

  As with everything else about him, Garrett’s desire was focused and intense. When he touched her, she felt such exquisite yearnings, she couldn’t breathe.

  He didn’t ask permission when he grabbed hold of the hem of her top and lifted it over her head. “Do you know how hard it was for me to stay away from you these past two weeks?”

  “Why did you?” she asked, wondering how she could get him out of his clothes as fast as he could rid her of hers.

  “Because I wanted to give us both some time, not only to find out about the pregnancy, but to let you think about what you wanted.”

  “I want you,” she breathed as he took her breasts in his hands and bent his head to kiss them.

  She meant it in a much broader sense than what they were doing now, and she hoped she wasn’t deluding herself into thinking it could happen. Mark hadn’t told her he wasn’t ready for marriage, at least not for marriage with her. Garrett had made his terms plain—live in the moment…seize the day. Marriage was an institution he didn’t want to be chained up in.

  She’d asked herself over and over again if she could be satisfied with that…satisfied with loving Garrett but maybe not entwining their lives with vows and a gold band. Even though he didn’t think marriage was in the cards, she hoped he wasn’t dismissing children altogether. She hoped even without marriage she might still become a mother…and give Garrett the gift of being a dad.

  Garrett’s finger was wickedly erotic as it encircled her nipple, teased and taunted.

  When she moaned, he laughed. “Your knees weak yet?” he asked with male satisfaction.

  “I feel as if I’m melting in your hands.”

  “You can’t melt yet. We’ve only just begun.”

  The melody of the old song played like a hopeful anthem in her head as she found new resolve and reached out to tug his shirt from his jeans.

  Breaking away, he tore it off himself and tossed it to the floor. As her hands stroked up his sides in teasing exploration, he bent, his forehead resting against hers.

  “The condoms are in the bedroom.” His voice was low, husky and filled with need.

  “What about the fire?”

  “It’ll keep. I’ll take care of it afterward.”

  Afterward.

  Tonight…afterward…she wouldn’t have regrets. Tonight…afterward…she’d hold Garrett and he’d hold her until morning. Tonight…afterward…she’d show Garrett that intimacy and vulnerability went hand in hand, and he didn’t have to shy away from either.

  When Gwen was an adolescent and her father rambled in a drunken stupor, the house needed to be cleaned and supper needed to be cooked, and she just wanted to be turned into somebody else who had a different life, she’d woven fairy tales. Well, one fairy tale about a strong, tall super heroic man, scooping her up out of the life she knew and carrying her off to a better one with him. That reality had gotten trampled by men and women’s changing roles, by adolescent boys who weren’t the superhero type, by a reality that compromised wishes. But that day when she’d spotted Garrett in his shed, and he’d turned his gray eyes on her, that fairy tale had arisen from the ashes, and she hadn’t even realized it.

  As if fulfilling a dream she’d almost forgotten, Garrett stepped away momentarily and scooped her up into his arms. Did she trust him to carry her? Could she depend on him not to let her fall in any sense of the word?

  He seemed to read those questions in her eyes. “This is going to be good, Gwen. So good.”

  “I know it will,” she murmured, and hung on to him as he carried her down the hall to the master bedroom.

  When Garrett set her beside his gigantic bed, she barely noticed the Navajo blanket on the wall, the lodgepole pine bedroom suite, the navy-and-red quilt that felt thick and soft as her hand brushed against it. Garrett was her focus, and every beat of her heart made her more aware of him. Her feelings for him shouldn’t shut out the rest of the world, should they? Her feelings for him shouldn’t make her forget about past hurts, shouldn’t make her see life anew, shouldn’t urge her to reach for a dream she’d tucked away.

  Should they?

  While he reached around her to unclasp her bra, she wrapped her fingers around his biceps, stopping him.

  “What?” he asked, looking concerned, as if she was going to stop everything here and now.

  “I want this to last.”

  “Nothing lasts, Gwen. Absolutely nothing. You know that as well as I do.”

  Yes, she did, but still… “You don’t want tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow?”

  “I want tonight. Be here with me now.”

  She knew what he meant. She had trouble living in the present. She liked to plan and analyze and project. All of that made her feel as if life were more than random, as if she had some control.

  “Tell me what you’re afraid of,” he prompted gently.

  She couldn’t. She couldn’t tell him she was afraid he’d leave. She was afraid he’d get tired of her and move on. She was afraid his connections to his ex-wife might not be severed. She was afraid he’d keep himself hidden and she’d never really know him…never really know she could trust him. As he’d said, men didn’t like to discuss.

  For once, though, choosing the moment over the future, she wasn’t going to spoil tonight with talk of her fears. Running her hands over his hot skin and up his shoulders, she raised herself on tiptoe and teased his lips with her tongue.

  Groaning, he crushed her against him, her breasts pressed against his chest, his arousal snug against the V of her thighs.

  “We can’t do it like this,” she breathed against his lips with a smile.

  “Then let’s get rid of these damn clothes,” he said, but he didn’t move to do it.

  “You feel good,” she whispered against his lips.

  “You feel better than good,” he muttered against hers.

  When he rocked against her, she felt like a lit firecracker ready to explode. When he rubbed against her again, she climaxed. Just like that. It took her by surprise. For a moment she stiffened in his arms as the nerve-tingling sensations danced through her body.

  “Oh, Garrett.” She clutched him harder and he pressed into her deeper until she was weak against him.

  As she opened her eyes, he was right there studying her.

  “It shouldn’t have happened yet,” she murmured. “I mean, I don’t even have my clothes off. I wanted to wait for you.”

  Laughing, he swung her up onto the bed. Then he stripped her, piece by piece, until she lay naked and he was looking down at her as if he couldn’t wait to gobble her up.

  Gwen soon discovered that Garrett was an active partner who didn’t want her to lie passive, who wanted her to reach out and touch, kiss, lick, just as he did. He seemed to have an unending supply of erotic kisses, teasing touches and experimental nibbles that soon sent her to the edge of orgasm again. Almost playful with her, they rolled over several times in his big bed. She loved the feel of his long, hard body pressed down on hers, his coarse hair rubbing against her soft skin, his lips kissing a line from her temple to her neck. When they switched positions, he caressed her bottom and the backs of her thighs.

  Suddenly, he brought her into a sitting position so he could caress her breasts and watch her face.

  “You just want to see me blush,” she teased.

  “I want to see more than that. I want to see the passion start. I want to see it go so high you can’t wait to have me inside you.” His thumb stroked her secret nub and she moaned. “That’s it,” he said.
“Give in to it, Gwen.”

  “I did. I have. I’m—”

  “You’re ready,” he growled, “and so am I.” Reaching over to the nightstand he picked up a packet lying there. “Do you want to put it on or should I?”

  “That depends. How much can you take?” she asked coyly.

  “As much as you know how to give.”

  That was a challenge if she ever heard one. After she took the packet from his hand, she tore it open and joked, “Does this glow in the dark?”

  “No. But I don’t think you’ll have any trouble finding me.”

  No, she certainly wouldn’t.

  She rolled the condom onto him…touching, caressing, kissing. As she did, his whole body tensed and she smiled. “How’re we doing?” she asked. “We’re only halfway.”

  “We’re doing just fine.”

  Leaning down to him, Gwen let her hair brush his groin as she finished rolling on the condom. Then she rubbed her cheek through the hair below his navel and kissed right above it.

  “Okay,” he groaned. “I think the foreplay’s over.”

  “You can’t take a few more hours of this?”

  “This from the woman who climaxed before I had her clothes off.”

  A few seconds later he’d reached for her and rolled her onto her back. She gazed up at him, loving him so much it hurt. How had this happened so fast? How had he pulled the rope and raised the curtain on what could be? She had to stop questioning and just be grateful. She had to start living in the moment…with Garrett.

  He had her arms pinned slightly but now she raised them and scraped her nails over his chest.

  Closing his eyes for a moment, he finally opened them again and smiled. “You are so…”

  “So?” she asked with a little laugh.

  “So natural. So damn sexy I can hardly stand it.”

  “Then what are you waiting for?”

  “I’m not waiting. I’m…prolonging. But I think we’ve both had enough of anticipation and we can always do this again.” With that pronouncement he raised his lower body then urged her, “Bend your knees.”

  She no sooner had when he eased into her, slowly filling her, healing the emptiness she’d known all her life. It was miraculously gone and she couldn’t blink away her tears. When had she last cried from sheer joy?

  Although his eyes were glazed with desire, his hair damp from their prolonged foreplay and restraint, he went still. “What’s the matter, Gwen? Am I hurting you?”

  “No,” she replied quickly. “Anything but. It just feels so wonderful. I just love you being inside of me…”

  She couldn’t finish and he seemed to understand. Pulling him back to the moment, she contracted around him, stroked his back and finally murmured, “Don’t stop.”

  The expression on his face told her he’d finally lost control. When he thrust into her more powerfully, she moved with him. As he headed toward satisfaction, she accepted every thrust, felt herself swirling toward erotic release, much different than she’d known a short while before. Every single one of her muscles tensed and trembled as Garrett joined with her again and again. She felt as if she were coming undone. The sensations were glorious, terrifying, extraordinary, and she cried out Garrett’s name.

  “Let go, Gwen. Go with it. Come with me.”

  She gasped as the orgasm overtook her…as it chased the trembling from her body, leaving in its wake fiery frissons of pleasure. The first wave of them hadn’t ceased when a second orgasm shook her. As it did, Garrett stilled, shuddered, rocked into her again, then collapsed on top of her.

  She could feel his heart racing just as hers was. A few moments later he raised his head and shifted to his side, separating them. She hated that feeling of separateness, as if they’d been wrenched apart from the most beautiful union she had ever known.

  Did he feel that, too?

  When she looked over at him, she didn’t know what to expect. After all, this was Garrett—Mr. Inscrutable.

  Reaching out, he trailed his fingers down her cheek, over the tracks of her tears. “I’m speechless,” he admitted.

  She loved the feel of his sweat-slicked body close to hers. She loved the closeness she felt, sharing the intimacy of his bedroom. She loved their scents mingling in that raw, after-sex way. “I hope you’re speechless because it’s the best sex you ever had.”

  Keeping a light tone now was probably best. If she told him she loved him, she had the feeling he’d go all remote…that he’d put time and distance and space between them.

  “It was the best sex I ever had.”

  Coming from any other man, that could be a line. Coming from Garrett, she knew he was serious.

  “I’ll be right back,” he assured her, then slid out of bed and went to the bathroom. A few minutes later, he returned and gathered her into his arms. Grabbing the sheet, he threw it over them.

  His stomach growled and she laughed. “Hungry?” she asked.

  “Yeah. But that and the fire can wait. I just want to hold you for a few minutes.”

  And she wanted to hold him. Maybe men’s and women’s needs weren’t so very different after all.

  Chapter Twelve

  When the phone next to Garrett’s bed rang, Gwen needed a few moments to come awake. By the time she did, his arms weren’t around her anymore.

  He was sitting on the edge of the bed, alert, his expression intent as he listened. “Hold on. I’ll get her. She’s right here. It’s okay, Tiffany.”

  The sound of Tiffany’s name had Gwen sitting straight up. Panic began beating against her chest as she took the phone from Garrett. “Tiffany? What’s wrong?” Glancing at the clock she saw it was 2:00 a.m.

  “Amy won’t stop crying and I don’t know what to do. I’ve never seen her like this. She’s been fussing since nine o’clock and I’m afraid I’m doing something wrong, or she’s sick. I didn’t want to call you.” There were tears in Tiffany’s voice and Gwen wondered how long she’d waited before making this call.

  “Honey, calm down. Take a breath. Does she have a fever?”

  “I used that ear thermometer we got but it’s hard to tell. She’s so hot from crying.”

  “What did the thermometer say?”

  “It said 98.6 but I don’t know if I’m reading it right.”

  “Tell her I’ll bring you home,” Garrett said close to her ear. “We’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Garrett insisted on going into the house with Gwen. She didn’t protest. She knew people didn’t often go out of their way for each other. She, Kylie and Shaye always had. But their small circle had been pretty much a closed one, and Gwen hadn’t known unselfish giving from many others. Now Garrett didn’t seem perturbed or put out or even upset about his lack of sleep as she enfolded a crying Tiffany into her arms along with the baby.

  Tiffany finally pulled away, looking embarrassed, especially when she glanced at Garrett. “I’ve laid her on her stomach, I’ve laid her on her back, I’ve rocked her and walked her and played music. I don’t know what else to do.”

  When Gwen took the baby into her arms, she could feel Amy’s little legs coming up to her stomach. She suspected the infant was simply having a colicky night. When she used the ear thermometer herself, Amy did not have a temperature. But she was riled up, crying and in distress. Gwen suspected this had started with some sort of stomach upset and snowballed.

  “I can call Dr. Pinelli’s service—” Gwen began.

  “Why don’t we take her for a ride?” Garrett suggested.

  Gwen and Tiffany both stared at him.

  He addressed Tiffany. “Didn’t you tell me she always falls asleep in the car?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “It’s worth a shot, isn’t it?” He had to almost shout to be heard above Amy’s crying.

  “It’s worth a shot,” Gwen agreed. “And, if it doesn’t work, I’ll call the pediatrician.”

  Five minutes later they were all in Garrett’s SUV
, Amy in the car seat he’d purchased for days he’d be chauffeuring Tiffany and Amy home to Gwen’s. Tiffany sat next to Amy in the back. The baby’s cries seemed to fill the whole world as Garrett backed out of the driveway and drove up the street. He was controlled, calm, seemingly unperturbed by the whole ordeal. How many men would go to these lengths to help a teenager who worked for them?

  The streets were practically deserted, and at first, Amy’s cries still rent the air. Then there was a subtle change. They became not quite as high-pitched, not quite as sustained. By the time they’d traveled five miles on the road to Cody the baby was hiccuping and would finally take the pacifier Tiffany offered.

  “Oh my gosh!” she said almost with awe. “It’s working. Mr. Maxwell, you’re a genius!”

  He laughed and to Gwen it sounded a little wry. She had no doubt he was thinking about his own baby, maybe how fatherhood would have affected him. Maybe how it might have changed his life.

  A half hour later, when they returned to Gwen’s, she was afraid Amy might start crying again as soon as the car stopped. But the infant stayed asleep and Gwen knew that was from sheer exhaustion.

  She said to Tiffany, “Shaye had one of those swings for Timmy. I told her I’d let her know if we needed it. If Amy likes motion, that might quiet her when she’s fussy.”

  “I’ve got to save up for a car,” Tiffany decided with a huge yawn. “Then you two wouldn’t have to drag me around.”

  After Tiffany carried Amy into the house, she headed toward her room. But before she left the living room she turned to face them. “I’m so sorry I had to call tonight. I didn’t want to bother you. I didn’t want you to think I couldn’t handle Amy on my own. But I knew I had to do what was best for her.”

  “Yes, you did. You did the right thing,” Gwen assured her. “Now go on, get some sleep while you can.”

  With a nod, Tiffany yawned again, then ambled down the hall.

  Garrett made no move toward Gwen, and she didn’t quite know what to do now, either. She remembered the safety and excitement and happiness she’d felt as he’d held her in his huge bed.