Baby Times Two

by Marie Ferrarella

  Hurts suddenly bubbled to the surface. “You were my whole world, Chase. In this day and age, that’s pathetic.”

  Chase didn’t hear the rest of it. He heard only the beginning. He looked at her, pleased and humbled at the same time. “I was?”

  She hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but there it was. “You know that.”

  She sounded angry again and he knew they were on the cusp of another possible argument. But he couldn’t retreat yet.

  “I don’t know anything of the kind. I did know that you used to like to yell a lot and I didn’t have a clue as to why.”

  The hurts multiplied as she remembered various incidents. “That was because you were so caught up in your work and I wanted you to be caught up in me.” She was admitting more than she wanted to, although not all of it.

  “I was working for us,” he protested. After all this time, she had to understand that.

  It was a lie he was telling himself. She shook her head. “You were working for you, Chase, not us. You wanted to be somebody, no matter what it took.”

  She had never told him very much about her past. It had been a painful subject and he had let her have her privacy, not understanding that she needed to talk, to have him draw it out of her. He’d thought he was being kind.

  But the snippets she’d let out had led him to believe that her father was an ambitious man who had sacrificed his family to that end.

  He didn’t like being compared to such a negative episode in her life. “Are you talking about me, or your father?”

  She opened her mouth to retort, then thought better of saying anything. Instead, she suddenly grabbed Chase’s arm and pulled hard.

  Caught off balance, a surprised Chase tumbled into the pool, headfirst.

  Chapter Eight

  The flash of temper Gina had felt at his comment was completely assuaged as soon as Chase made contact with the water, sending a wave of water flying over the lip of the pool.

  Served him right.

  Laughing, Gina quickly retreated from Chase’s point of entry. She expected him to come bobbing up immediately, spewing water and hotly demanding to know what had gotten into her. That was the way he would have handled it in the old days. What he had once regarded as her playfulness he had rechristened foolishness as his temper grew shorter and shorter and he became edgier. Trophies, she knew, of the “upwardly mobile individual.”

  Chase wasn’t moving.

  Instead, he seemed to float up and just lie there, facedown in the water, his arms and legs oddly buoyant, as if he were unconscious. After another moment, the laughter abruptly died in Gina’s throat.

  Had he struck his head on the side of the pool when he fell in?

  “Chase?” She tugged lightly on his arm, but he didn’t respond. Panicked, she tugged harder. “Chase? Are you all right? Answer me, damn you.” Her voice cracked as fear splintered through it.

  Just as she framed his head with both hands, lifting it from the water, Chase suddenly jackknifed his body down into the water and grabbed her. The next thing she knew, he pressed a long, wet kiss on her lips.

  For exactly half a minute, she leaned into the kiss, her outrage and panic temporarily on hold. But as she felt his mouth curve into a smug smile, she broke away and looked at him accusingly. Her heart was pounding like a rabbit that had been running toward the sanctuary of a warren, pursued by hounds.

  The heels of her hands butted against his chest, she kept Chase at what she hoped was a safe distance. “What was that all about?”

  Her mouth was mussed from the imprint of his. Chase couldn’t help the satisfied feeling filtering through him. “It’s called a kiss.”

  Her eyes blazed. “I know what that was called, you big idiot. I mean before, with you acting as if you had...I don’t know, drowned.” In her frustration and anger, words eluded her.

  He ran a fingertip down her nose and watched her become even more annoyed. Her eyes always turned such a fascinating shade of blue when she was annoyed, like the sea at sunset. “Worried?”

  He’d like her to admit that, wouldn’t he? That she was worried about him. That she still cared. Well, he wouldn’t hear it from her.

  “Sure I was worried. You’re too heavy for me to drag out of the pool and I always like to leave things the way I find them.”

  “Yeah, right.” Chase pulled her to him for another quick, deep kiss that took most of the rest of her breath away.

  Once again Gina drove a wedge between them with her hands, this time not quite so forcefully.

  “Okay, you win. I was worried.” Her eyes narrowed. She hated pranks like the one he’d just pulled. Hated the feeling that had gone through her when she’d thought that he was hurt. Or worse.

  She tried to keep all that out of her voice. “Why did you do it?”

  “I thought you had it coming to you after what you did.”

  Gina looked at his wet clothes and tried to suppress her grin. Maybe she’d had it coming to her at that. She’d gotten him good. And he had paid her back in kind. “How did you learn how to hold your breath that long, anyway?”

  His eyes swept over her. Water looked good on her. So did nothing.

  He was torturing himself and he knew it.

  “I’ve gotten in a lot of practice these past few weeks. Holding my breath until you come around.”

  She was painfully aware, even submerged, how much her body was drawn to his. “Came around? Came around to what?”

  “Us.”

  The word glided seductively along her skin. Gina shook it off. She had to. The word wasn’t a promise, it was a lie. “Chase, there is no ‘us’ anymore. Just you, just me, no ‘us.’ Not anymore.”

  Her stubbornness hadn’t abated any with time. But he was no slouch in that department either. And he had a new goal to reach, one that was far more precious to him than the other ever had been.

  “Okay,” he countered honestly, “I’m trying to find out what happened to ‘us,’ then.”

  She couldn’t hide the accusation in her eyes. Why was he pretending to be so mystified when he was the one who had ended it? “You were there.”

  Because he wanted to touch her, to hold her to him again, he backed up against the wall and rested his arms along the edge of the pool. This had to be worked through. “So were you. Do you have a clue?”

  What sort of mind games was he trying to play? “You were the one who walked out.”

  Physically, yes, but the stage had been set long before that. “You drove me out, Gina.”

  Gina’s eyes narrowed into small pinpricks of cobalt blue. “I drove you out? I loved you.” She hit the water with the flat of her hand, sending up a spray of water in her anger. “Sure I shouted a little, but—”

  “A little?” he echoed incredulously.

  She shrugged. The strap of her suit slid off her shoulder and she tugged it back into place. “A little more than a little then, but the fact remains that I was willing to dig in and stay.” Water wasn’t nearly satisfying enough a medium. She hit his chest with her hand instead, taking her frustration out on him. It only seemed right. He’d been the one who caused it. “You were the one who shouted ‘divorce.’”

  He allowed her two strikes. When she wound up for the third, he grabbed her wrist in his hand. “You were always picking fights.”

  She tugged, but there was no breaking free. He had her wrist in a viselike grip. “You criticized.”

  “I tried to improve you.” He saw the warning flash in her eyes. “And I was out of line.”

  Gina opened her mouth to shout a retort, then shut it again as his apology registered belatedly. She huffed out a sigh, not knowing what to make of him.

  “Well, there goes that argument in the making.” This was getting them absolutely nowhere. They could continue shadowboxing with the same issues for hours.

  Her wrist still held captive in his hand, she nodded toward the hotel. “What do you say we dry off and get back to work?”

  He c
ould make up for lost time later. This was far more important to him. “Why? I thought we were making some more headway.”

  Didn’t he get it yet? She wasn’t about to allow herself to make the same mistake twice. “There’s nowhere to make headway to, Chase.”

  “That’s your opinion.” And he didn’t really believe she meant it.

  She arched a brow. Talk about stubborn. “And yours is?”

  That was easy. That had come to him somewhere between keying in August and September of 1986 onto the appropriate disk. “That maybe things can work out better the second time around.”

  She wished he’d stop trying to wear her down. Because he just might, and she was certain that it wouldn’t lead to anything more than they’d had before.

  “Chase, we’ve been through all this before, the attraction, the magic—”

  He smiled and she tried to tell herself that she didn’t find it irresistible. That something didn’t melt within her each time he did. “Still there, isn’t it?”

  There was no point in lying, not about this. “Yes, and probably some of it always will be.” He leaned in to kiss her and she blocked it. “So will the problems.” Her eyes pleaded with him. “Don’t spoil this.”

  He didn’t understand. Kissing her would only make things better. “Spoil what?”

  “The truce.” She didn’t want to fight with him anymore. It took too much out of her. And it was also a painful reminder of the past.

  He combed strong, sure fingers through her wet hair. “Truce is bland.”

  Her scalp tingled. She told herself it didn’t. Her throat felt as if it were closing up. It wasn’t fair what he could do to her with just a touch. “I’d settle for bland as opposed to hot.”

  “I wouldn’t.” The words glided tantalizingly over her lips as he gathered her in his arms.

  “Chase, you’re soaking wet.” There was very little enthusiasm in her protest.

  He grinned, smiling into her eyes. “I’m in the water, I’m supposed to be soaking wet. Besides—” he nipped the corner of her mouth “—who put me here?”

  “Me, but—” Each word straggled out like miners from a cave-in.

  Chase nipped the other corner, his tongue just skimming over her lips. “Shut up and kiss me, Gina. I won’t say it’s what you do best, but it really is up there in the top five.”

  She’d thought that she was bracing her hands against his chest. How had she managed to tangle them in his shirt, pulling her to him? “I—”

  “Yes, definitely you.”

  With that, he sealed his mouth to hers. Gina had no doubt that the temperature of the pool went up a good ten degrees. She could tell by the heat radiating from every pore on her body.

  This was what it must be like to drown, she thought, feeling reality and the world spiraling away from her at a dizzying speed. Dizzy was the word for it. She felt dizzy and hopelessly disoriented.

  All she knew was that this feeling coursing through her was better than anything on earth.

  Each time he kissed her, it occurred to him a little more strongly what a fool he had been to let her go. Whatever problems they’d had, he should have stayed to work them out. He never gave up at work. Was this any less important?

  No, more.

  It was the sound of a throat being cleared that abruptly penetrated the deep haze they were both in. Reluctantly, Chase raised his head and saw that a bemused-looking Benjamin was standing at the edge of the pool, watching them.

  Flustered, Gina broke free, then scrubbed her hands over her face, as if that could somehow wash away the myriad emotions scrambling about within her, each with a different placard, one urging her to flee, the other to remain.

  Benjamin had the grace not to smile too broadly. “Shirley thought I might find you here, Gina. She saw you walk by in your bathing suit earlier.”

  She knew he hadn’t come out just to survey her swimming apparel. With a stab at dignity, she looked at Benjamin. “Problem?”

  He spread his hands. “Depends on your point of view. The paintings you ordered for the halls just arrived.” He picked up the towel she had left on the lounge and held it out to her. “I don’t think they’re really what you had in mind.”

  Gina quickly scrambled out of the pool and took the towel from him. She didn’t remember conferring with Benjamin about the choice. How would he know what she’d had in mind when she’d ordered them?

  She rubbed the towel through her hair, her eyes on Benjamin. “Oh?”

  A smile lit Benjamin’s dark eyes, giving a hint of a curve to his mouth. “Unless, of course, you ordered abstract art. There’re a lot of paintings with women with, uh, three or more of everything,” he said as delicately as possible.

  Gina stopped rubbing. She looked at Benjamin in horror. She decidedly had not ordered anything even close to that description.

  “Remington,” she said, looking from Benjamin to Chase and then back again. “I ordered reproductions of Remington.” The ones she had selected had just the right Western flavor she was looking for. Gina closed her eyes and sighed. “I’ll call the gallery.”

  With the towel firmly wrapped around her wet suit, Gina slid her feet into pink thongs and hurried away from the pool, leaving Benjamin and Chase behind her.

  The noise behind him had Benjamin turning instinctively. Chase was hauling himself out of the pool. Tiny waterfalls flowed from his shirt and jeans. Benjamin allowed his smile to widen and become visible.

  “Nice outfit,” he commented. “Given this heat, you’ll probably be dry in fifteen minutes.”

  Chase stripped off his shirt and wrung it out. “Thanks, but I think I’ll change anyway.”

  Benjamin laughed as he turned to follow Gina’s damp footsteps. “Good idea.”

  * * *

  Gina changed quickly into white shorts and a loose-fitting red-and-white tank top. She was on the phone with the gallery, untangling the mix-up, for the better part of an hour.

  That resolved, there were other matters demanding her attention. One problem dovetailed into another. Before Gina realized it, it was almost seven.

  Her stomach growled at her irritably. It had been more than seven hours since she had consumed anything except coffee. Shirley, bless her, had brought in a full pot of espresso. At this point, Gina seriously thought that coffee had replaced her blood.

  She pressed a hand absently to her rumbling stomach as she finished making a note to herself about the chandelier in the foyer.

  “Not this time,” she muttered to it absently. “We’ll get something later, when the coast is clear.” One run-in with Chase today was quite enough. Besides, she was always more susceptible to things and much more vulnerable when she was hungry. She was taking no chances.

  The habit that had once annoyed Chase now seemed to him oddly sweet as he walked in on Gina in the middle of her muttering. Gina had always named and talked to all sorts of things. Smiling inwardly, he shifted the tray he carried—dishes for two, a magnum of red wine and a covered entrée. He set the tray on her desk.

  “Still talking to inanimate objects?”

  Surprised, she looked up. “My stomach is not an inanimate object.” Despite herself, she was curious. She nodded at the tray. “What are you supposed to be?”

  Chase was busy. He laid out two plates, one on either side of the desk, and then placed appropriate silverware next to them. “Room service.”

  She frowned. This was not going to work out the way she wanted it to. Something warm and tantalizing—besides Chase and his cologne—was wafting to her. “I didn’t order anything.”

  He turned and smiled at her. It was that confident smile that teased and annoyed her at the same time. “I second-guessed you.”

  She thought of his insensitivity to her feelings. “You never could before.”

  He reached for the two goblets and poured red wine into each. “Oh, yes, I could, about some things. I still remember your favorite meal.”

  She looked at him quizzical
ly. With a flourish, he uncovered the main dish.

  Gina’s eyes opened wide. “Lasagna?” This wasn’t something that could just be thrown together in a few minutes. Or even an hour. She leaned closer to inspect the serving. It looked freshly baked. “How did you manage this?”

  He cut a serving for Gina, then one for himself. “Charm.”

  Gina reserved further comment until she tasted the offering. It was a piece of heaven. She could see him talking the chef into this. Chase was very persuasive when he wanted to be.

  The first edge taken off her hunger, Gina looked at Chase. “You did always have that to spare, didn’t you?”

  Chase silently released the breath he’d been holding and took a bite himself. His eyes never left hers. “Is that a compliment?”

  “An observation.” Gina took several more bites before conceding. “And a compliment, not that you really need it.” There was nothing wrong with Chase’s self-esteem. It was alive and well.

  There was something very intimate about sitting here and eating with her, with the sun setting behind her, casting out long lavender fingers into the darkening sky. He felt as if he could say things that he couldn’t before. “You’re wrong there. Everyone needs to hear a compliment sometimes, to have their ego stroked.”

  Gina raised her eyes to his. He’d struck a very real chord. “Yes, I know.”

  Chase laid down his fork, interest outweighing hunger. “Did I forget to say them, Gina?”

  “Sometimes.” She looked down at the plate, trying to be blasé. It didn’t work. She hadn’t really wanted to admit that. “A lot of times.” Why did it always hurt when she thought of it? “At the end.”

  He placed a hand over hers. “That has a horrible sound to it.”

  Gina looked at him, wishing she could ignore the intimacy of the contact. Yet she couldn’t make herself pull her hand away. “What does?”

  “The end,” he repeated. Even when he had walked away from her, somehow, he had known it wouldn’t be forever. Hadn’t he?

  Gina was struggling very hard to stay strong. “But it did end and we moved on.”

  He loved her, he thought. Really loved her. What had possessed him to be so stupid as to leave her? “Yes, we did, and I don’t care for the neighborhood.” As he said it, he knew it was true. Had always been true.