He shrugged into his blue oxford shirt and began buttoning it, slowly, treating his ex-wife to an insolent once-over. “You just can’t admit there’s still something between us, can you? Some kind of chemistry.” Buckling his belt, he shook his head with that same superior little smile that had always set her teeth on edge.
Chemistry? she thought. Try oil and water.
She said, “I’ve never given you the slightest reason to believe I’d sleep with you. Never.”
He sat and slipped his loafers on, holding her gaze. “I don’t see it that way. Actions speak louder than words.”
“Is that so?” With unmistakable deliberation she turned and pointed toward the doorway.
“Come on, Percy. Mommy doesn’t want us around.” At the bedroom door he slowly turned back. “You know, you always talked a good game, Zanny, acting so holier than thou about your so-called professional ethics. And I always bought it. Is this a recent thing, getting it on with the chefs you review, or were you doing it when we were married?”
Her heart skipped a beat. “What are you talking about?”
He gestured toward the picture of Eric on her night table. “I’m talking about the guy with the bad attitude and the key to your apartment.”
Lina felt the blood drain from her face.
Her reaction wasn’t lost on Steve—he appeared immensely pleased with himself. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. Eric was here? He saw you in my bed? Steve’s mean little smirk gave her the answer. With a trembling hand she pushed her hair behind her ear. “He must’ve stopped by for my birthday.”
That familiar uh-oh look came into her ex-husband’s eyes—a look she knew all too well. The bastard had no idea it was her birthday. Well, why break with tradition, after all?
“Get one thing straight.” She stiffened her spine. “This is my home, Steve. You’re not welcome here.”
He leaned on the doorframe. “On second thought, I’d guess the getting-it-on part comes first, and the review is a nice little bonus for the lucky restaurant owner.” He shook his head sadly. “You don’t even know when you’re being used, Zanny. If you’re that desperate to get laid...” He spread his hands in invitation.
Lina’s eyes stung with the threat of tears. She took a deep breath. She’d be damned if she’d let Steve see her cry. “If you don’t leave this instant, I’ll call the police.”
His steel gray eyes skewered her. “You bitch.”
Having discharged the final salvo—that had always been important to him—Steve called his dog and stalked down the hallway. Lina braced for what she knew would follow.
Her apartment door slammed thunderously, rattling the pictures on her walls and the bottles on her dressing table.
She slumped onto the bed. “Happy birthday, Lina.”
Chapter Sixteen
Two weeks had passed since Lina had arrived home to find Steve ensconced in her bed. She needed to talk to Eric, explain the preposterous incident for what it was, but he refused to even come to the phone. She’d considered ambushing him at his house, but couldn’t bear the humiliation of face-to-face rejection. Besides, the boys didn’t need to witness a scene like that.
His callous refusal to hear her side hurt her deeply. If he truly cared for her, wouldn’t he at least let her speak her piece? This was the man who’d declared his love time and again during the past few months. She’d always thought love implied a degree of trust.
For the thousandth time in two weeks, her hand slipped down to reverently stroke her belly. No difference. No outward sign of the miracle taking place deep inside. Life was truly unpredictable. In all the years she’d dreamt of being a mother, never once had she considered single parenthood. And yet here she was, embarking on this great adventure.
Alone.
A pile of maternity clothes occupied the sofa next to her, still sporting their tags. Okay, so she was jumping the gun a bit, but it was hard not to. How many times had she passed maternity stores and wished she had a reason to spend a month’s wages on tentlike frocks and pants with ugly elastic panels?
Eric didn’t know about the baby. Joy was the only one she’d told. It would have been hard keeping anything from her roommate, much less daily bouts of morning sickness. Lina wondered, if he were to find out, would he be happy? Would he want the baby? Probably not. His sons were teenagers. No doubt he was thankful diapers and colic were a thing of the past. Responsible type that he was, he’d probably feel obligated to marry her for the sake of respectability.
Or maybe he’d eschew marriage and settle for visitation rights. She shivered. Out-and-out rejection looked good compared to grudging acceptance. Of course, she could opt to keep him in ignorance—and the child, too. Never acknowledge his paternity to either of them.
She thought of the wonderful, warm years of her own childhood. While it might be politically incorrect in this age of free-form parenting, she’d never shaken the belief that a conventional nuclear family is best for a child.
She sighed and patted her belly. “Well, little one, looks like it’s just you and me.”
She heard Joy’s key in the lock. Her roommate’s voice rang out from the foyer. “So did you buy out the store?”
“What do you think?”
Joy laughed when she saw the mound of dresses, pants, skirts, tops, nightgowns, and underwear. There was even a flowing wool coat. “I think they saw you coming.”
“Well, I’m going to need clothes, aren’t I?”
Joy tore open the wrapper on a pair of maternity tights and held them up. Her eyes grew round. “Jeepers.” She glanced at Lina’s flat belly. “Are you really gonna fill these out?”
“So they tell me.”
Her roommate lifted a stretchy yoga top. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
Lina snatched the garment away from her, laughing. “Dr. Schulman says I can continue to exercise, within reason.”
Joy perched on the back of the sofa. “When are you gonna tell Eric?”
She groaned. “Joy, don’t start that again. He won’t even talk to me.”
“So send him a registered letter. Don’t you think he has a—”
“Yes, he has a right to know, and I’ll tell him when I’m ready.” Maybe.
Joy’s expression made Lina wonder whether she could read minds. She swung her legs over the back of the sofa and bounced down onto the pile of clothes. “The longer you put it off, the harder it will be. You know that.”
Lina toyed with the tag on a jumbo-size beaded evening dress. “I’m not trying to put it off, I’m just...”
“You’re confused. And scared to face the thing head-on.”
Lina knew she could deny it. But what would be the point?
Joy jumped up, pulling Lina with her, hauling her into the foyer. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“What are you doing? I’m not going anywhere.”
Joy pulled Lina’s buff suede jacket off the coat tree and tossed it at her. She donned her own fleece-lined windbreaker. “That’s what you think.”
*
“What kind of maniac goes jogging in forty-degree weather? In the rain?” Joy squinted out the windshield of her beat-up Chrysler hatchback. The beach appeared deserted. They’d tried Eric’s rambling white clapboard house first. Lina had remained in the car while Adam directed Joy to Rocky Bay Beach.
“It’s not raining, it’s misting,” Lina said. “He’s not here. Take me home.”
“No. What’s back there?” She pointed to where the dunes curved around to the right.
Back there is a lovely little secluded cove with hot sand and cold water and gulls who beg for bites of Fluffernutter.
“Nothing. There’s nothing back there.”
Suddenly alert, Joy leaned forward and wiped fog off the windshield with her gloved hand. “Liar.” Through the mist a tall figure came into view from around the dunes, loping at a steady pace along the water’s edge. “Is that him?”
“Yes.” Even at a distance Lina r
ecognized his fluid, masculine grace.
Joy turned up her collar and opened the car door. “Out.”
There was no use fighting her. When Joy latched on to a mission, she was like a dog with a bone. “I’m coming,” Lina grumbled.
The sky was a somber gray shroud on this brisk November afternoon, blending with the gray-green of the choppy ocean, obscuring the horizon. A lively wind whipped the mist, stinging their faces. Perfect weather for a confrontation, Lina thought, shoving her bare hands into the pockets of her jacket as she shuffled along in her roommate’s wake.
Joy didn’t hesitate. She marched straight toward Eric, tossing glances over her shoulder to make sure her charge hadn’t escaped. When he saw them he stopped and stared, chest heaving from exertion, breath smoking. Lina stopped, too, and tried to make out his expression. Joy snagged her sleeve and hauled her across the white sand.
Eric cut an arresting figure against the backdrop of the churning surf, broad-shouldered, still as stone. They stopped a few feet away, close enough to see the trace of steam that rose off his head and his forearms where he’d pushed up the sleeves of his dark green sweatshirt.
Close enough to see the hard set of his jaw.
“This has gone on long enough,” Joy announced without preliminaries. “It’s time for you two to clear the air.”
“This isn’t your concern, Joy,” Eric countered. He studiously avoided looking at Lina. “I know you mean well, but—”
“Don’t give me that crap,” she interrupted. “You have to at least talk to the woman, hear her side—”
“The circumstances speak for themselves.”
Lina felt weary and defeated. The man she loved had no desire to make things right, to even entertain the possibility she was blameless. If this was his level of commitment to her, she didn’t need him. “I’ll be in the car, Joy.”
She turned to leave, then stopped, wanting to make one thing clear. “This wasn’t my idea, Eric. It won’t happen again. I—” She choked on her words, feeling as if her heart were being torn from her chest. “I only wish you trusted me enough to—”
“Trust you?” Eric was animated now, his eyes glowing with a fierce golden light. “I did trust you, dammit. I loved you.”
Joy took this as her cue to leave. As she headed toward the car, she called over her shoulder, “Ask her why the super was fired.”
Eric was unable to contain his bafflement. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?” He looked at Lina’s pale face. He told himself that her eyes were tearing from the wind, that her cheeks were damp from the mist. She slipped her hands into her pockets, hunched her shoulders against the cold, and started back toward the parking lot.
Shutting her out was damn near impossible now that he’d looked into those sapphire eyes, so filled with pain—now that he’d heard that little catch in her voice. It ate right through him. Refusing her calls had been so much easier. As he’d known it would be.
He closed his eyes and sucked in a lungful of briny air. Let her walk away. It’s what you should have done a half year ago at The Cookhouse. Just let her walk away.
“Lina.” What was he doing? “What’s this about the super?”
She kept walking.
“Lina!”
He cursed soundly and sprinted to catch up with her. Brusquely he spun her around. There was no denying her tears now. She tried to jerk out of his grasp, but he held on to her shoulders.
Eric sighed in defeat. He had no will where this woman was concerned. “Okay,” he said gently, “I’m asking. What’s with the super?”
She looked away, snuffling pathetically. “He was
f-fired.”
“Yeah, so I gather.” He patted the back pocket of his gray sweatpants, but all he felt was his car key. No tissues.
Lina dug one out of her pocket and blew her nose. She dragged in a steadying breath.
“Why was Rocky fired?” he asked.
“Because he let Steve into my apartment when I wasn’t home.” Her sad eyes met his at last. “Steve greased his palm and said he was my brother. Then he...well, you know...got comfortable. In my bed. Waiting for me.”
Abruptly Eric released her and pushed his fingers through his damp hair. He turned his face in to the icy breeze. This was too weird. Nobody was that big a jerk.
Except possibly the arrogant creep he’d met in Lina’s apartment.
“You’re telling me...” He shook his head as if to dispel the absurd notion.
“That’s what happened,” she said flatly. “I told you I wasn’t involved with Steve.”
His mind supplied the part Lina left out. And you chose not to believe me.
He hurt for her. He hurt for them both. “And for this they fired Rocky?” he asked.
“It was the final straw. He’s been pulling this kind of nonsense for years, and the management company finally decided to can him. What’s the sense in having twenty-four-hour doormen and all kinds of security if someone can slip the super a few bucks and get into an apartment?”
“Especially unsavory types like horny ex-husbands.”
“Exactly.”
He couldn’t help asking, “So what did you do when you came home and found Steve in your bed?”
“I tore off my clothes and performed unspeakable acts with him.”
“In front of Percy?” Lord, it felt good to smile again.
“I blindfolded Percy.” She looked away again, toward the murky horizon. “So are you going to call the management company and verify my story? About Rocky?”
“Of course not. I believe you.” God, he wanted to hold her. She probably wouldn’t let him. He framed her cool, moist face in his palms. “When I found that creep in your bed—after what happened with Ruth...” He dragged her into his embrace, holding her tight, nuzzling her silky hair. “Forgive me, honey.” His voice cracked. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too. I don’t think I realized how much I love you—need you—until Steve started mouthing off about how I’ve abandoned my scruples, how I’m granting reviews to restaurateurs I’m sleeping with.”
“The son of a bitch,” he growled.
“It’s okay.” She looked up at him. “I’m glad he said those things. He opened my eyes.”
“I can’t believe you’d give any credence to what that bastard—”
“I don’t. Don’t you see? Long ago you told me not to worry about what petty, small-minded people might say or do, and you were right. Steve’s about as petty and small-minded as they come. When he laid that on me, about favoritism, he was just trying to get to me. I don’t even care whether he believes what he’s saying. I know he’s wrong. So will any thinking person. What it comes down to is, I refuse to abdicate control of my life to people like Steve.”
“Does this mean we can show our faces in public? At the same time? In the same general vicinity?”
“I’d say we’re about five months overdue for that first date. Especially considering...” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “There’s something I’ve needed to tell you for the last two weeks.”
When she didn’t elaborate, Eric said, “Honey, whatever it is, just spit it—”
“I’m pregnant.”
Those two little words slammed into his gut, making his heart skid and his mind seize up. He could only stare mutely, looking her up and down.
“A baby?” he whispered.
She nodded, biting her trembling lip.
From somewhere deep inside, a tidal wave of emotion swelled and crested and burst forth in a long, loud whoop of pure elation. He laughed like a madman and lifted Lina, whirling her around and around in that wind-driven mist, under the dreary gray skies.
When he finally ran out of steam, they collapsed together on the wet sand, laughing breathlessly. The delicacy of her condition dawned on him and he sobered.
“Honey...” He laid a palm on her flat belly. “Are you okay?”
“Of course.”
She looked, well,
radiant. Wasn’t that how pregnant women are supposed to look?
Radiant and relieved. “Are you happy?” she asked shyly.
“Hell no. Do I look happy?” He was well aware of the idiot grin plastered across his face.
“I was afraid you might not be thrilled about becoming a father again.”
“In my dotage?” He sprang to his feet and pulled her up.
“Well...” A teasing light came into her eyes.
He began brushing damp sand off the front of her suede jacket, letting his fingers linger naughtily. “I’ll show you just how decrepit I am when I get you alone, witch.”
Sobering, he dropped his hands to enfold hers and searched her eyes. He took nothing for granted. This would be done properly. She was entitled to that, baby or no baby.
“Will you marry me, Lina?”
She hesitated. “Are you asking because I’m pregnant?”
“No. I was planning to ask you before this whole mess with Steve. I think we both knew we’d reached a make-or-break point. All that sneaking around—it was driving me crazy.” He squeezed her hands. “Honey, I love you so much, I want to holler it from the rooftops.”
Her eyes misted and she bit back of little gust of laughter. She threw her arms around his neck and sobbed her joyful answer.
“Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you, Eric.”
He couldn’t have said how long he stood there holding her, rubbing her back, absorbing her warmth and her heartbeat. Wondering about the tiny new life pulsing within her. A life the two of them created out of their love.
Suddenly the losses of the past paled against a future of limitless potential.
At last he kissed her, a lingering kiss of devotion and promise. When they separated, he was surprised to see the sky had cleared and the sun was trying to peek between the clouds. It was a good omen.
He put his arm around her and steered her past the dunes.
“Where are we going?”
“There.” He pointed to two rows of beach cabanas set facing each other, two long whitewashed buildings actually, each subdivided into a dozen little rooms behind barn-type doors secured with padlocks. He headed for his cabana—third one on the right—and impatiently spun the combination lock.
Too Darn Hot Page 14