Wedding Rings and Baby Things

by Teresa Southwick

  “I was afraid of that.” She turned away, toward the mirror on the dresser. It was a useless gesture in shutting him out since he was right behind her and she could see his reflection. There was such an earnest look on his face, she had no doubt that he meant what he said.

  “I think you love me, too.”

  “Oh, God…”

  “What’s wrong with being in love? Lots of people would lie, cheat, beg or steal to find what we have.”

  “It’s catastrophic for us. If I let myself love you, I’ll lose you.”

  He shook his head. “You’re gonna have to explain that. I just don’t get it.”

  “I watched your marriage go from love to disaster to divorce. You never spoke to Carol after that. You never even talked about her.”

  “Because there was nothing to say.”

  “You’ve never lied to me before, Cameron. Don’t start now. You talked to me about everything. But you never discussed the divorce. I know it was because it hurt too much to even share it with me.”

  He made a cross over his heart and held his hand up, palm out. “I swear. I didn’t talk about it because there was nothing to say. Carol left me because the days in the spotlight were over. I wanted to work with kids, she wanted the limelight. Afterward, I realized not only that I never loved her, but that I didn’t much like her or miss her.”

  Her gaze raised to his in the mirror. “You’re telling me the truth?”

  He nodded. Moving one step forward, he put his hands on her arms. After turning her, he cupped her cheek in his palm. “I love you, Kelly Cameron. Not because I feel I owe your family anything, not because I’m a nice guy, not because of the baby. I love you because you’re you. I think I’ve always loved you.”

  “I love you, Mike. I think I always have, too.” Tears of happiness burned her eyes. “By the way, that was eloquent.”

  “I’m sorry. I know you want romance—”

  She silenced him with her finger on his lips. When he drew it into his mouth and sucked, her stomach knotted with need. “I wasn’t being critical. That really was eloquent in its simple sincerity.” She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath as he kissed her palm. “And in the romance department you could give lessons,” she said, her voice growing husky.

  “Even after Le Chêne?”

  Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “That was an attempt to sweep me off my feet?”

  “It was.” The sheepish expression on his face was so endearing it made her want to cry.

  She punched him playfully. “I knew you were up to something.”

  “And you saw how well it worked out.”

  “Better than you know. I was dined and charmed and so confused, bewildered and amazed by you.”

  “And afraid that love would destroy the perfect friendship.”

  “But that’s another thing you coached me on.” She trailed a finger down his chest and smiled when he sucked in a breath and his dark gaze intensified. “I can have it all. A hunky husband, romantic lover, friend and father all rolled into one nice, neat package.”

  “And I got a beautiful, sweet, worry wart wife who needs to relax and not talk so much.” He lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her deeply. Kelly slid her hands up his chest and looped them around his neck. She was just giving herself up to the magic when he pulled back.

  “What is it, Mike?”

  “You make me forget everything. I had something to talk to you about earlier, but I lost it when I thought I’d lost you.”

  “Talk to me quick, Coach.” She kissed him lightly on the lips. “If I know our daughter, she’ll sleep soundly and long enough for us to—” She raised one eyebrow suggestively.

  “Speaking of Sammi, how would you feel about me adopting her?”

  “You’re already her father in every way.”

  “I want it to be legal,” he said. “I spoke to Tim about it, just to see if there would be any problems. He said Hammond signed off his rights and nothing would stand in the way of me adopting her. Unless you object—”

  She started to cry.

  “What’s wrong, Kel? It’s okay if you don’t want me to.”

  She shook her head as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. “There’s nothing I want more. Like I said, you showed me I can have it all—husband, lover, friend, father, all rolled into one.”

  He grinned. “Then everything’s settled.”

  She glanced at the bed. “Not quite. There’s the matter of the lover part—”

  “Ah,” he said, following her gaze. “I once said you’d be the first to know if I needed a woman.”

  “You did.”

  “I need you, Kel,” he said, meeting her gaze with his own dark one. “I will always need you.”

  “I need you, too. I love you, Mike Cameron.”

  He walked to the bed and swept the covers down. Then he walked back to her and lifted her into his arms. The sweet romantic gesture brought a lump to her throat. He carried her to the bed and set her down gently on the sheets, then joined her. With their bodies they signed an agreement more binding than their wedding vows. It was a promise of the heart, a pledge of the soul.

  Kelly knew she and her coach would be friends and lovers, husband and wife. It was a good time to swear back on men. At least one man in particular. He was a good one, in fact the best.

  * * * * *

  Silhouetre’s newest series

  YOURS TRULY

  Love when you least expect it.

  Where the written word plays a vital role in uniting

  couples—you’re guaranteed a fun and exciting read

  every time!

  Look ror Marie Ferrarella’s upcoming Yours Truly,

  Tract on the Spot, in March 1997.

  Here’s a special sneak preview….

  1

  Morgan Brigham slowly set down his coffee cup on the kitchen table and stared at the comic strip in the center of his paper. It was nestled in among approximately twenty others that were spread out across two pages. But this was the only one he made a point of reading faithfully each morning at breakfast.

  This was the only one that mirrored her life.

  He read each panel twice, as if he couldn’t trust his own eyes. But he could. It was there, in black and white.

  Morgan folded the paper slowly, thoughtfully, his mind not on his task. So Traci was getting engaged.

  The realization gnawed at the lining of his stomach. He hadn’t a clue as to why.

  He had even less of a clue why he did what he did next.

  Abandoning his coffee, now cool, and the newspaper, and ignoring the fact that this was going to. make him late for the office, Morgan went to get a sheet of stationery from the den.

  He didn’t have much time.

  * * *

  Traci Richardson stared at the last frame she had just drawn. Debating, she glanced at the creature sprawled out on the kitchen floor.

  “What do you think, Jeremiah? Too blunt?”

  The dog, part bloodhound, part mutt, idly looked up from his rawhide bone at the sound of his name. Jeremiah gave her a look she felt free to interpret as ambivalent.

  “Fine help you are. What if Daniel actually reads this and puts two and two together?”

  Not that there was all that much chance that the man who had proposed to her, the very prosperous and busy Dr. Daniel Thane, would actually see the comic strip she drew for a living. Not unless the strip was taped to a bicuspid he was examining. Lately Daniel had gotten so busy he’d stopped reading anything but the morning headlines of the Times.

  Still, you never knew. “I don’t want to hurt his feelings,” Traci continued, using Jeremiah as a sounding board. “It’s just that Traci is overwhelmed by Donald’s proposal and, see, she thinks the ring is going to swallow her up.” To prove her point, Traci held up the drawing for the dog to view.

  This time, he didn’t even bother to lift his head.

  Traci stared moodily at the small velvet box on the kitc
hen counter. It had sat there since Daniel had asked her to marry him last Sunday. Even if Daniel never read her comic strip, he was going to suspect something eventually. The very fact that she hadn’t grabbed the ring from his hand and slid it onto her finger should have told him that she had doubts about their union.

  Traci sighed Daniel was a catch by any definition. So what was her problem? She kept waiting to be struck by that sunny ray of happiness. Daniel said he wanted to take care of her, to fulfill her every wish. And he was even willing to let her think about it before she gave him her answer.

  Guilt nibbled at her. She should be dancing up and down, not wavering like a weather vane in a gale.

  Pronouncing the strip completed, she scribbled her signature in the corner of the last frame and then sighed. Another week’s work put to bed. She glanced at the pile of mail on the counter. She’d been bringing it in steadily from the mailbox since Monday, but the stack had gotten no farther than her kitchen. Sorting letters seemed the least heinous of all the annoying chores that faced her.

  Traci paused as she noted a long envelope. Morgan Brigham. Why would Morgan be writing to her?

  Curious, she tore open the envelope and quickly scanned the short note inside.

  Dear Traci,

  I’m putting the summerhouse up for sale. Thought you might want to come up and see it one more time before it goes up on the block. Or make a bid for it yourself. If memory serves, you once said you wanted to buy it. Either way, let me know. My number’s on the card.

  Take care, Morgan

  P.S. Got a kick out of Traci on the Spot this week.

  Traci folded the letter. He read her strip. She hadn’t known that. A feeling of pride silently coaxed a smile to her lips. After a beat, though, the rest of his note seeped into her consciousness. He was selling the house.

  The summerhouse. A faded white building with brick trim. Suddenly, memories flooded her mind. Long, lazy afternoons that felt as if they would never end.

  Morgan.

  She looked at the far wall in the family room. There was a large framed photograph of her and Morgan standing before the summerhouse. Traci and Morgan. Morgan and Traci. Back then, it seemed their lives had been permanently intertwined. A bittersweet feeling of loss passed over her.

  Traci quickly pulled the telephone over to her on the counter and tapped out the number on the keypad.

  * * * * *

  Look for TRACI ON THE SPOT

  by Marie Ferrarella, coming to

  Silhouette YOURS TRULY

  in March 1997.

  eISBN 978-14592-7277-4

  WEDDING RINGS AND BABY THINGS

  Copyright © 1997 by Teresa Ann Southwick

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 300 East 42nd Street. New York, NY 10017 U.S.A.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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  Printed in U.S.A.