"I am happy," Jeannie said, lifting Daisy from the stroller and placing her on the rug. "Can you believe it?"
Kate perched on the arm of the sofa. "After the past week, I can believe just about anything. Talk about whirlwind romances...."
"Which brings me to the sixty-four thousand dollar question," said Jeannie. "What's with you and Trey Whittaker?"
Kate turned an incriminating shade of scarlet. "I don't know," she mumbled.
"Kate!"
"Really," said Kate, sliding down onto the sofa. "I'm not sure if there's anything between us."
"He's adorable."
"I've noticed."
"And you look adorable together."
Kate tossed a sofa pillow at Jeannie who tossed it right back at her.
"Just because you two happy romantics were struck by the thunderbolt, don't think the rest of us have been."
"Miracles happen," said Jeannie, redirecting Daisy's attention away from teething on the leg of the sofa.
Kate sat up straight and scrutinized her. "There you go again. There are times when I'd swear you had a secret life going for you somewhere."
"You've been reading too many mysteries."
"Maybe," Kate said, not sounding at all convinced. "But I have the persistent feeling there's more to you than meets the eye."
"You've missed your calling," Jeannie said dryly. "Forget comedy. You could give Agatha Christie a run for her money."
"So tell me," said Kate. "What did your families have to say about the big news?"
Jeannie began sorting through the magazines on the coffee table. "We haven't told them yet."
"You haven't told them?" Kate leaped to her feet, startling Daisy into dropping her ring of keys into the rug's thick pile.
"For heaven sake, Kate, you don't have to sound shocked. We're over twenty-one."
"Your parents will be so hurt!"
"My parents are somewhere in Alaska on vacation."
"What about Hunter's folks?"
"I told you things were dicey between Hunter and them. I doubt if this news will change anything."
"You know, Hunter asked me if I knew your family," Kate said. "He'd really wanted you to have them at the wedding."
"There'll be plenty of time for family," Jeannie said. "Especially with one the size of mine."
"No, I'm serious," said Kate. "He asked me a lot of questions when we were dancing at the reception." She narrowed her eyes comically. "It made me realize how much I don't know about you."
"There's not much to know," Jeannie said brightly. "I'm pretty dull, all things considered."
"Hunter doesn't think so."
"Wonderful," said Jeannie. "That means I'm doing something right." Maybe it was time to make a call....
* * *
"I called my parents this afternoon," said Hunter over dinner that night.
Jeannie looked up from her salad. "I called my parents this afternoon, too."
"What did yours say about the wedding?"
"They're still on vacation," said Jeannie. "My sister, however, was thrilled." And also concerned about Jeannie's lack of candor with Hunter. "How about your parents?"
"They extended their congratulations, asked about Daisy's health, then said they were off to play golf."
"You're kidding." She paused. "Aren't you?"
"The conversation took longer but that's all it amounted to." He cut into his chicken. "Now watch: they'll send us an arrangement of flowers with a balloon sticking out of it that says congratulations." He met her eyes. "They like the personal touch."
"We'll send them wedding pictures," Jeannie said. "A big eight by ten with Daisy in it. How could they resist?"
"Forget it," Hunter said, his tone sharp. "It's their loss. If they don't want to be part of our life, then I don't give a damn."
Jeannie couldn't help but regret that he was depriving Daisy of her grandparents' attentions, but then who was she to talk? The fact that they had made their calls without the other present was not lost on her. They each had their reasons but she found it very sad that it was Daisy who ultimately would pay the price.
The following week Hunter and Jeannie took Kate and Trey out for a thank-you dinner. One of Kate's friends, a registered nurse, was babysitting Daisy back at the apartment. Hunter chose a Hungarian restaurant in the East Seventies, a lush, old world establishment with gas lamps and weeping violins and the best goulash in the country.
He was feeling particularly expansive that night. He'd been on fire at work, all the old ambition and drive he'd thought gone forever was back, burning hotter than ever. Without Daisy in the office to distract him, he was able to focus in on the tasks at hand and push through in record time. Knowing she was safe and secure at home with someone who loved her made all the difference.
Their marriage had been impulsive, crazy. But it was the smartest thing he'd ever done. The last few weeks had passed like scenes from a romantic movie. Bright sunny days. Warm passionate nights. All the time and space he needed to pursue his career.
A man couldn't ask for much more out of marriage.
"Look at them," Jeannie whispered to him between courses. She gestured toward Kate and Trey out on the dance floor. "They're crazy about each other. Look at the way they're gazing into each other's eyes."
"The last time I saw Trey like that he was photographing Miss January."
Jeannie gave him a poke in the ribs. "I'm serious, Hunter. There's romance in the air."
"You're right," he said, taking her hand. "From the first moment we met."
"Not exactly," said Jeannie with a rueful laugh. "If I remember right, you had an eye on that blond model."
He gave her a blank stare. "Who?"
"Marcy," Jeannie prompted. "Tall, thin, big bo--"
"Oh yeah. Marcy." His grin was infectious. "Now I remember."
"So do I," said Jeannie, "and I hope she's eating her heart out."
Trey and Kate returned from the dance floor.
Kate flashed them a cat-and-canary smile. "What were you two talking about over here?"
"None of your business," said Jeannie sweetly.
Kate glared at her in mock annoyance. "Fine," she said. "Keep your secrets. See if I care."
Everyone laughed. Nature abhorred a vacuum but not half as much as Kate hated secrets.
"Don't bug them, Katie," said Trey, still laughing. "Jeannie probably has another husband stashed away somewhere and they're--"
"Oh!" Jeannie leaped to her feet as ice water poured over the side of the table. "I can't believe I did that!" Her upended glass of water lay in the middle of the table.
She excused herself and ran to the ladies' room, praying Kate would stay where she was. That was your guilty conscience reacting, Jeannie.
"And what was that all about?" Kate asked as she burst through the ladies' room door a few moments later.
Jeannie blotted her skirt with a wad of paper towels. "I knocked over my water glass. It happens all the time."
"Not to you," Kate said. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she said brightly. "Find me a good blow dryer and we can get back inside."
She came to him that night with a passion that left Hunter amazed.
She was everywhere, pleasuring, tempting, inviting him to lose himself in her and be found again and again.
"The lights," he said as she teased him with her lips and tongue. "I want to see you."
"Quiet." She placed her hand over his mouth. "No lights. No sound. Just let yourself feel."
He was a man accustomed to being in control, but when he tried to roll her over onto her back, his wife slipped just out of his reach.
"Tonight belongs to me," she said, letting the straps of her nightgown slip from her shoulders.
"Then let me--"
She moved in a way that stopped rational thought, his limber, inventive wife.
"I'm afraid you're going to give me trouble," she said, reaching for something on the nightstand beside her. He watched
, blood pounding, as she slid a pair of silky black hose through her fingers.
His eyes narrowed as she drew closer.
"This is for your own good," she said, looping his wrists together with the filmy silk. "Trust me."
She branded him with her touch. He would know her in the dark by the smell of her skin, the feel of her mouth against him. There was something urgent about her lovemaking, passion that went beyond heat and into pure fire. Slowly she moved her way up his body until she found his mouth with hers.
"Untie me," he said.
"Not yet." She dipped her head and took his nipple between her lips.
"Untie me," he repeated.
"Why?"
He told her exactly what he intended to do.
A voluptuous shiver rippled through her body.
With one quick movement he broke the fragile bonds that held him captive then pinned her to the bed with his body.
"I was right," she said. "You're dangerous."
He met her eyes. She smiled then opened herself to him, soul and body, and it was a very long time before they slept.
That night the dream returned. She had sensed its nearness, done her best to push it away, but still it found her, as she'd known it would.
The house sat on the corner of Elm Street and Hawthorne, a tiny Cape Cod with crisp black shutters and an air of happy domesticity about it. A huge pine wreath complete with red satin bow graced the front door and boughs of holly and twinkling lights decorated the windows and eaves.
It was everything Jeannie had ever wanted in life, every one of her girlhood dreams come true. This was the house she'd come to as a young bride, the place where her daughters had been conceived, the floors were the floors she and Dan had walked on those endless nights where nothing could ease a child's crying.
It was her home.
Christmas was three days away and there was so much still to be done that Jeannie despaired of finding the time. There were Barbie clothes to track down for the girls, the Fair Isle sweater to finish for Dan, the fishing pole for her dad and painter's easel for her mother, a slew of siblings and nieces and nephews to shop for and--
"Cookies!" She sat up in bed, heart pounding. Good grief, she hadn't even bought the ingredients yet. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Five a.m. Who in their right mind would be thinking about cookies at that hour?
Jeannie knew the answer to that. She climbed from bed, careful not to wake her sleeping husband and reached for her bathrobe. Any mother with only seventy-two hours left until Christmas morning, that's who.
She padded downstairs to check the pantry for supplies. There was no sense trying to sleep. She wouldn't be able to close her eyes now that she remembered that the holiday cookies weren't even in the planning stages yet. She'd make a list, slip into her clothes, then race out to the store and be back before her family stirred.
"Up early, Jeannie," said Ethel, the night cashier at Brody's Cash 'n' Carry a few miles away. "Got the Christmas crazies?"
"Show me a woman who doesn't and I'll show you a Grinch," Jeannie said, rummaging through her pocketbook for her wallet. She'd spent more time in the store than she'd expected--and more money as well. But didn't everyone come Christmastime? "I have to go home and bake ten dozen cookies for the hungry hordes."
"Save me a pfefferneuse," said Ethel with a friendly grin. "Nobody makes 'em like you do."
Jeannie eased the station wagon slowly out of the snowy parking lot, wishing for the hundredth time that they could afford a four-wheel drive. Maybe some day, she told herself as she made her way home. Living in northern Minnesota gave you a profound respect for Mother Nature. Ice and snow and bitter winter winds that--
She tilted her head to one side. Sirens at that hour of the morning? The town's noon whistle had the disconcerting habit of going off whenever it darn well felt like it. She grinned and continued driving. Back home Dan must be grumbling right now and pulling the pillow over his ears to drown out the sound.
Instead of fading the sound of the whistle intensified. A fire, she wondered, as she neared the foot of Hawthorne. Every year the local paper ran heartbreaking stories about deadly holiday fires and Jeannie had always whispered a quick prayer that her own loved ones were safe from harm.
And that was when she saw it. Billows of black smoke racing toward the morning clouds. Angry tongues of flame hissing through the cold air.
Fire engines. Powerful jets of water racing against the inevitable. The red-rimmed eyes of volunteer firemen as she ran toward her home that was no longer there--
Her scream split the stillness of the room.
"What the hell--?" Hunter sat bolt upright in bed. Jeannie was tangled in the sheets, eyes closed, trapped inside a nightmare of frightening proportions.
Her voice shook with terror. "Let me go! Don't try to stop me!"
"Jeannie." He gripped her by the shoulders and shook her gently. "Jeannie, wake up."
She twisted away from him, eyes open but unseeing. "No! Let me go! The fire...they can't breathe...they--"
He shook her harder this time. Sweat beaded at her temples. Her breathing was shallow, erratic.
His adrenaline pumped in response.
"You're dreaming, Jeannie. It's only a dream. You're safe...you're with me."
He forced her to look at him, to really see him.
"Everyone's safe, Jeannie. You...me...Daisy."
She drew a long, shuddering breath. "Hunter." She sagged against him, body limp with exhaustion. "Oh, God."
He held her in his arms, stroking her silky hair, murmuring to her as her trembling eased.
"That was one hell of a nightmare," he said after awhile.
She sat up in bed, touching her throat and wincing. "Did I scream?"
He nodded. "You screamed."
Her eyes closed for an instant. "Did I wake Daisy?"
"She's sleeping like a baby."
Jeannie managed a shaky smile. "You do have a way with words, Hunter."
"Are you okay?"
"Just embarrassed." She glanced toward the window. "Did I--did I say anything?"
He hesitated, unsure about the right thing to do. Did you confront nightmares or forget them? He opted instead for the truth. "You were calling for help."
"For myself?"
"No. It sounded like someone was trapped in a fire."
"It's just a dream," he said, pulling her close to him.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I feel like such an idiot. Grown women don't have nightmares."
"Don't," he said. "Everyone has bad dreams now and then. Forget about it."
Her head drooped against his chest and he held her close until she fell asleep, wishing he could banish her fears--whatever they might be.
"Your parents sound great," Hunter said a few nights later as he put down the letter they'd sent, congratulating the newlyweds on their marriage.
"They are great," said Jeannie, feeding Daisy a spoonful of baby glop. "The older I get, the more I appreciate how terrific they are."
"Why don't we fly out to Minnesota to see them next week after they get home?" Her parents were currently up in Alaska on their annual vacation.
"They'd love that," she said after a moment. "Maybe around Thanksgiving would be better." She smiled as she wiped Daisy's mouth and Daisy smiled back. She looked over at Hunter. "They do it up big at the inn. Lots of harvest colors, hayrides for the kids, bobbing for apples--the whole All-American thing in spades."
"Why wait until Thanksgiving?" he asked. "There's no time like the present."
"A man who's anxious to meet his in-laws. You're one of a kind, Hunter."
He chuckled as Daisy wrinkled her nose at the taste of zucchini. "So what do you say? Next weekend. We could fly out on Friday and be back Sunday night."
"I'll call them when they get home and we'll see about arranging something."
He started to push again but caught himself. This was his marriage, not a business deal. He had to learn to give as well as
take. It was hard, but he thought he was learning.
There were times he felt as if he were seeing the world for the first time, as if Jeannie had opened up his heart to feelings he'd believed existed only in other peoples' hearts.
Lately, though, he'd had the feeling that there was something else going on below the glossy surface of their life together. It was nothing he could explain, just the sense that nothing this good could stay that way forever. Now and again there was a shadow around Jeannie, a subtle shift in mood that made him wonder about the woman he'd married. Neither one of them went in for philosophizing or dredging up past lives and past sins. They had come together to share the present and look forward to the future. The past was yesterday's news.
Still, the sense that she was more complicated than she appeared lingered. Another man might have held her in his arms and asked questions. He was content simply to hold her.
His live-for-today philosophy had served him well in life. Shrugging off excess emotional baggage made it easier to climb the ladder in business. Callie had never been able to do that, however. She'd been the changeling in the family, the one who went through life with her defenses down, eager to see and feel and experience everything the world had to offer. She'd kept scores of journals in her attempt to wring all the best from life. Hunter had them locked in the credenza in his office. He'd never even cracked one volume.
He had everything he'd ever wanted. His career was working on all cylinders. He had the time and the space to pursue his goals. His baby girl grew stronger and brighter every day. And he had the woman of his wildest fantasies in his bed with him each night.
Only a fool would look for trouble.
Kate and Jeannie had a running date for a girls-only luncheon on the second Saturday of the month. Hunter laughed when his wife interpreted that invitation to include Daisy now as well.
"I don't think the folks at the Russian Tea Room would appreciate Daisy's unique charm," he said as he watched Jeannie dress. She made the act seem downright erotic. "I'll take care of her. You and Kate have a good time."
She kissed them both goodbye and raced out the door in a cloud of Chanel No. 5. Her footsteps had barely faded before he found himself fighting the urge to race after her.
Daddy's Girl (Bachelor Fathers) Page 12