The Baby Consultant
Page 14
“All right, all right. He gets the picture.”
From the back of the house, a woman’s voice called, “Frannie? Could you help me out with D.J., please? Bring your fella along so I can get a look at him.”
Frannie grimaced as she turned toward the doorway. “That’s Donald’s wife. I’ll introduce you in a little while. Want to sit and rest for a few minutes? I’ll let you know when the burgers and ’dogs are ready.”
No, he didn’t want to sit and rest. He wanted to take Frannie into an empty room and strip off her clothes and kiss every inch of her long, pretty body, starting with the gentle curve of her buttocks barely hidden beneath the soft fabric of her white shorts. Since that didn’t seem to be an option, he figured he’d sit tight and relax.
When she left the room, Billy took the seat Donald had just vacated. “So how long have you been seeing my sister?” he asked. If he hadn’t been so openly friendly, Jack would have thought he was going to get another grilling.
“Not long enough,” he replied. “But I hope I’ll have plenty of time to remedy that.”
Billy regarded him thoughtfully. “Wow. You mean, like, become part of the family?”
Jack shrugged. “You never know.” And that was enough answering her brothers’ snoopy questions. “I understand Frannie pretty much raised you and your brothers.”
“There’s no ‘pretty much’ about it,” Billy informed him. “I don’t even remember my mother. I was only two when she died. If Dad had remarried, Frannie might have had more time for herself. But he didn’t, and then he died the year she graduated. And the four of us were so spread out in age that she was twenty-seven before I graduated from high school.”
“But she had finished college by then.” No question about it, it was more fun to be the snooper than the snoopee.
“Nope. She went part-time for a long time until she got a two-year degree, but it wasn’t until she finally decided to ditch the nursemaid role that she went back full-time and got a degree in clothing design.” Billy was an absolute fountain of information, easily primed for maximum flow.
“You mean until you were grown.”
“Not hardly. I mean after she finally realized she was spending her whole life taking care of other people’s kids. It was an interesting day around this ol’ homestead when she told Donald and Robert to start hunting for a sitter, ’cuz she was outta here.” He shook his head and the earring—which Jack would die before he’d ever wear—glinted in a ray of late-afternoon sun that fell across his chair. “Those two dirt balls really took advantage of her.”
“So let me get this straight,” Jack said. “Frannie stayed at home after your dad died until you graduated. And then...?”
“And then when she finally got me out of her hair, Donald’s first son was born with cerebral palsy and she helped take care of him. He started in a special preschool when he was two, but then Robert’s wife had the twins and was in bed on doctor’s orders for a few months, so Frannie helped them out, too.”
“So what made her decide—”
“Billy?” Frannie’s voice called from the rear of the home.
That was the end of Snoop Time, Jack realized regretfully.
“It’s time to eat. Will you help Jack out to the table, please?”
Jack didn’t really think he needed help, and apparently Billy didn’t, either, because he waited at a respectful distance until Jack hauled himself to his feet on his one good leg. Then he showed him through the kitchen to the screened-in back porch, where a picnic-style supper had been set.
The first thing he noticed were the twins. Adorable little dark-haired girls who looked enough like their Aunt Frannie to be her own. They giggled and batted their eyes at him, and he was enchanted. This was what their babies would look like. His and Frannie’s. He didn’t want Lex to be an only child, and Frannie was so good with kids that she’d probably want a bunch. The idea tickled him.
The thought of children caused him to look around for his own kid. Frannie held her in one arm. With the other, she was patiently offering bits of food from a plate for a little boy in a wheelchair.
“They usually get him started early because it takes him longer,” Billy said in an undertone from behind him.
Jack was stunned. The child looked as if he were easily five or six, and he was as helpless as a baby. He turned back toward Billy. “I thought people with cerebral palsy could walk with braces or walkers.”
Billy snorted. “You’re thinking of the poster child stuff. This is more often the real thing. His motor skills are pretty limited, but his mind is as sharp as yours and mine. They’re teaching him to use a keyboard to help communicate because he’s kind of hard to understand.” His tone changed, became meaningful. “He’s a great kid. We all love him.”
And you’d better, too, was the unspoken message. It wasn’t a problem, Jack decided, just a bit of a shock. Frannie hadn’t told him much about her family; he could see now that she’d been the rock for them all during the years she normally would have been going to college, meeting guys, marrying and starting her own family. Suddenly her single state—and her unexpected virginity—began to make more sense.
Her sister-in-law was an attractive blonde who looked a bit ragged around the edges. “This is why I only have two kids,” she said darkly, watching the twins and two other kids dropping more food on the floor than in their mouths and giggling like crazy when a fuzzy brown dog raced to gulp down the tidbits.
She directed him to the table, where Donald was setting down a tray of hot dogs and hamburgers, and he made himself a plate. Then it occurred to him that Frannie hadn’t eaten yet, either. He waved at her across the porch, and when she looked over, indicated the table. “’Dog or burger?”
“Burger, please,” she said, and the look on her face made him glad he’d thought about her. It was a little thing, but she appeared stunned that he would think to ask. He filled her plate with a little of everything, then limped over to sit next to her. Setting down the plates, he took Lex from her. She grinned and drooled and waved her little fists as if she recognized him, and his heart gave a little squeeze of pleasure. When he looked up, Frannie was watching him. On her face was a tender expression that he would pay a million bucks to see every day, and Without thinking, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, keeping his eyes on hers until she looked away, over at her nephew sitting patiently in his wheelchair.
She patted the little boy’s limp hand, which was drawn into an odd, taut curl. “I’d like you to meet my friend, Mr. Ferris.”
“Just call me Uncle Jack,” he said.
Uncle Jack. As Frannie bathed a screaming Alexa, who was at the end of her rope after such a big day, she thought about what Jack had said. Donald had nearly dropped an entire plate of raw hamburgers on the ground.
He hadn’t meant it in any serious context, she was sure. Jack was just that way—genial and friendly, leaving new members of the Ferris Fan Club behind him wherever he went. Her family had certainly been taken with him. Especially her sister-in-law, whom she’d noticed sucking in her tummy and wiping mascara from beneath her eyes with a napkin when she thought nobody was looking.
Uncle Jack. She’d made him put yet another ice pack on his knee while she got Alexa ready for bed. She’d refused to let him drive home, and she’d had to bribe him with the TV clicker to keep him off his feet. So he currently was propped on her bed watching the Orioles trounce the Yankees for a second time straight. She’d already mixed a bottle, which sat on the nightstand beside the bed, and she’d promised to bring Alexa in to him to feed as soon as she was bathed. With the ever-increasing shrieking ringing in her ears, she decided he had gotten the best end of that deal.
The bath finished, she quickly diapered and dressed the baby, brushed her damp hair up into a funny little curl atop her head, and carried her in to Jack. He reached for the infant, sighing happily when she was snuggled in his arms taking her evening feeding.
“I missed this tod
ay,” he said. “What was my life like before I had her?”
That wasn’t a topic she was particularly hot to discuss. “Sane,” she said. “How’s the knee?”
He considered the question for a moment, flexing the leg slightly and wincing. “Not too bad,” he pronounced. “I was afraid I might have cracked the kneecap, but I think it’s just bruised.” With his free hand, he reached out and tugged her closer to the bed. “Come sit with me,” he said. “You’ve had a busy day.”
She couldn’t resist. She crawled up on the bed and settled beside him, closing her eyes when he put his free arm around her and drew her close, so that he wouldn’t see the flood of emotion in her eyes. This was what she’d waited for all her life...if this wonderful fantasy were real and this was her family, it would be perfect. She enjoyed her business, but the bald truth that she hadn’t wanted to face was that she would be perfectly happy to be a wife and mother, to design gowns when time permitted. It wasn’t fashionable in this age of independent women, but it was her.
Alexa’s eyes had rolled back in her head, and her rosebud lips were slack around the bottle. Chuckling, Jack shifted her to his shoulder. “I do this to all the women.”
She snorted. “Yeah, I’ve noticed how bored women are when you’re around. Did you know everyone’s nicknamed you, Jack the Flirt Ferris?”
“They have?” His voice was suddenly much quieter, much cooler than it had been a moment ago. His arm around her felt stiff and uncomfortable. “And is that what you think?”
Self-protection kicked in. She’d fallen once for a man who didn’t love her. At least this time she didn’t have to let him know she was hurting. “What I think is beside the point.”
“I see.” He took his arm from around her and rose so suddenly that she nearly fell over. When he stifled a groan, she knew his knee must be terribly sore.
“I’ll put her down,” she offered. “You shouldn’t be on that leg.”
“She’s my baby. I’ll do it.” He hobbled from the room, and she heard him stump across the hall. After a long moment he came limping back. He walked to the dresser and placed both hands on it with his back to her, leaning heavily.
She hadn’t meant to hurt him, hadn’t known he could be hurt. Remorse overcame her desire to safeguard her heart. She began to try to tell him so. “Jack, I never meant—”
“Dammit, woman!” he roared.
She jumped a foot in the air. She’d never heard him raise his voice before.
“You tell me I’m a flirt, you tell me everybody knows it, and you pretty much say straight up that it doesn’t matter to you? How in the hell do you think that makes me feel?” He waved his hands in the air in short, chopped motions that told her how angry he really was. “We’ve been sleeping together. Hell, we’re practically living together. In my mind, that gives you some reason to be a little jealous, to be bothered just a little bit. So how come you’re telling me you don’t care if I flirt with other women? How about if I take another woman to bed—would you have an opinion about that?”
“Of course I’d have an opinion about that.” She drew in a shaky breath, aware that she would be putting herself at his mercy if she revealed how important he’d become to her, but unable to stop herself from admitting, “I’d hate it. I’d seriously consider shooting you.” Her voice rose to match his. “Is that what you want to know?”
They stared at each other across the space in the room, and she couldn’t stand the silence. “Can’t you tell how much I’ve liked having you in my life? I’m truly sorry if I made you think I don’t care—” She covered her face with shaking hands.
“Baby.” It was a hoarse whisper as he closed the distance between them. She met him halfway, winding her arms around his back and holding him as tightly as she could.
“I’m sorry. Jack, I’m sorry....” It was an unfinished theme, cut short by his mouth descending onto hers in a frantic, ragged kiss that didn’t end until she tore her mouth away, gasping for air.
“I’m sorry, too,” he said. “I don’t want to fight with you.” He urged her backward, walking her toward the bed until she felt the mattress bumping the back of her legs. “I can’t carry you tonight, but I still want you right where I’ve wanted you every night since we met.”
He unbuttoned her blouse and slipped his hands beneath, sliding around her torso to unhook her bra, then stepping away from her long enough to take all of her clothing from her. When he started to shuck off the T-shirt he’d put on after his shower, she brushed his hands aside and removed it herself. Then she slipped her hands beneath his shorts and briefs to his buttocks, and he groaned. Gently she lowered the clothing, freeing his jutting arousal with small warm hands that lingered until he was unable to resist thrusting his hips into her palms over and over again.
Finally, he drew her hands away with a rueful smile. “If you do much more of that, this will end before we really get started.”
She was kneeling before him, concentrating on easing his clothing over his injured knee. At his words, she leaned forward and placed her mouth on his heated flesh in a brief caress that made him jerk and groan again.
Taking her wrists, he drew her to her feet as he kicked away his shorts. When he slipped his big hands down her back and pressed her naked body against his, an involuntary shiver of delight ran through her. She put her hands up to his shoulders, resting her forearms against the firm muscles that covered his upper arms, and laid her head on his wide chest. Beneath her ear, his heart beat, sure and strong. She rubbed her cheek against him like a cat, loving the feel of smooth flesh beneath silky, curling hairs. Between them, the proof of his need for her pulsed insistently, and she felt him quiver when she turned her face and traced one of his small copper nipples with her tongue.
“Lie down with me.” His voice was a gutteral growl that she instinctively obeyed, climbing onto the bed and waiting impatiently as he eased himself down without jostling his knee. His knee could be quite a handicap, she thought suddenly. Then again...
When he reached for her, she turned toward him, raising her leg and draping it high across his belly. Immediately he seized her by the waist and pulled her up over him so that she straddled his hips.
The sudden action startled her. After a second of battling embarrassment at the uninhibited position, she relaxed. Jack was warm and solid—very, very solid—beneath her and she realized that in this position she had far more control over the pace of their lovemaking.
He grinned, although it was more a baring of his teeth, and said, “Like it up there, do you?”
She smiled and set her palms on his nipples, rubbing in tiny circles, feeling the little nubs rising beneath her ministrations. “It’s...interesting,” she said. “I think I could get used to it.”
“I’d be more than happy to let you practice on me anytime.” He lifted his hips slightly beneath her, and she clutched at his shoulders for balance.
Leaning forward brought a whole new point of contact into play, she discovered. She looked down. At the vee of her legs, her own dark curls were a striking contrast to Jack’s much lighter cloud of hair. And between them... between them, a thick column of aroused male was snugly sandwiched. Experimentally she rose onto her knees and his sex immediately sprang back to poise at the entrance to her body.
She was hot, already surprisingly wet and she couldn’t wait. Slowly she lowered her body, savoring the long, sweet slide of his flesh into hers. Glancing away from the riveting sight, she surprised a fiercely exultant expression on his face, an expression which altered, lightened into That Smile. “What are you thinking?” she whispered.
He chuckled, and she caught her breath as the action rippled the heavy muscles across his belly, making him move enticingly inside her.
“I was thinking,” he said in a deep, strained tone, “that we’re going to have to shift into a higher speed before I burn out my gears.” And with that, he took her hips firmly in his big hands, lifting her and releasing her again before restrainin
g her with an easy grip while beneath her he began to thrust powerfully, moving in and out of her with a purposeful stroke that shattered her control. Each slam of his hips was a fresh jolt of feeling. All her body seemed to draw in, to center at the point where they met over and over again. She threw her head back, cried out, and felt within her abdomen the long, deep rhythm of contractions that shook her entire body with their strength, slowly ebbing in power until she fell forward to lie on his chest.
And only then, with the shift in position, did she realize that he was still rigid and throbbing within her.
She started to push herself into a sitting position again, but he stopped her with a gutteral “Hold still.” His arms came around her like vises, one big hand splayed over her bottom pressing her more deeply around him, the other cradling her skull, holding her head against his chest.
“I don’t want it to end.” But his body had other ideas. Even as he spoke, she felt his hips gathering, shaking with his effort not to move, finally holding him rigid against her while the exquisite pumping of his body poured his seed into her. When he finished, his arms slowly fell away from her to lie, palms up in total relaxation, on the bed.
She lay where she was for long moments, until the harsh sounds of accelerated breathing died away and the air-conditioned room felt chilly on her backside. Slipping off him, she dragged the sheet up over them and curled against his side with her cheek on his chest and her hand on his heart
And she slept.
Nine
Two weeks later, on a Tuesday, Jack’s photographer friend, Runt, came to take the photos Jack had requested. He was manic and efficient, with a quick sense of humor, and he couldn’t have looked less like his nickname, she was amused to note as he barreled around the shop, somehow managing to slip around fragile displays and glass counters while she held her breath. Built like a sumo wrestler, Runt hefted his heavy equipment as easily as...as Jack lifted her.