No Exchanges, No Returns

by Laurie Kellogg

  “Sorry.” He retreated a half step and took the glass.

  “That was fast.” She watched his Adam’s apple bob while he guzzled the water as if he were competing in a beer chugging contest. A couple of drops escaped and rolled down his chin and throat, pooling in the hollow at the base of his neck.

  Wiping his mouth with his hand, he froze as he noticed her watching him. “I’m sorry. Did you pour that for yourself?”

  He set the empty glass on the granite countertop and reached for another tumbler.

  She grabbed his arm. “No. I’m fine. That was for you.”

  “Okay.” He stripped his damp polo over his head and mopped the moisture from his face and neck with the shirt. “I swear it’s as hot as the earth’s core out there. If you don’t mind, as soon as I haul your stuff upstairs, I’m gonna take a dip.”

  She stared at the crop of dark hair dusting his chest. It dwindled to a thin line and bisected his rippling abs, swirling around his navel before it disappearing into his low-slung waistband like an arrow pointing to the secrets concealed beneath his fly.

  “So what’s your pleasure?”

  She jerked her gaze from his bronzed flesh, and heat flared in her cheeks. “Huh?” She seriously doubted he was doing a Monty Hall impression and asking if she wanted to check out what was behind zipper number one.

  “Do you want to join me for a swim? Or are you as aquaphobic as Brianna?”

  Even though Casey had watched her mother’s and sister’s limp bodies churn in a giant, angry wave like a couple of rag dolls in a blender, she had managed to continue to enjoy swimming—just not in the ocean.

  Swallowing hard, she shook her head and croaked, “No. My mom’s drowning actually motivated me to become a lifeguard at the community pool while I was in high school.”

  “So how about it then?”

  “I haven’t bought a maternity bathing suit yet.”

  “You have a two piece, don’t you?”

  “Yes, but I’ll look like a beached whale in it.”

  “Who cares? The house is surrounded by woods. No one’s gonna see you but me. Hell, when I’m alone, I don’t even bother with a suit.”

  The mental image of his gorgeous body floating naked in the pool sent a warm flush streaking through her.

  He patted her belly and grinned. “I’ve already seen your tummy, Shamu.”

  It wasn’t her swollen stomach that worried her. With the way her breasts had swelled since January, no doubt the skimpy top would look obscene on her. “Thanks a lot. I don’t think I’m quite big enough yet to star at SeaWorl—”

  “Stop it,” he cut her off and gazed into her eyes. “You’re beautiful, Tinkerbelle. And I need to stop teasing you. You’re pregnant, not fat. Do you have any idea how incredible it makes a guy feel to see a woman’s belly swell with his child?”

  He tenderly brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead, and her heart rap-tap-tapped like a rusty sewing machine. She continued gawking up at him—the man who loved her sister.

  Guilt and shame swamped her as a surplus of hormones started a war between her mind and body. She could remind herself David was Brianna’s ex-husband and a shallow, materialistic workaholic until she was blue in the face. None of it seemed to matter to the wanton part of her that insisted on inciting a mutiny to overthrow her common sense and principles.

  How in the world would she ever get through the next few months without aching for him to crawl into her bed? Especially if he kept wandering around half-dressed, flexing those gorgeous muscles.

  She must have been suffering from temporary insanity when she agreed to move in with him, because the only reasons any woman would subject herself to this kind of bittersweet torture were if she was stark raving mad, or she had the IQ of a rock.

  ~*~

  A half hour later, Casey took one last peek through the kitchen window at the rippling sinew in David’s back and his powerful arms slicing through the crystal clear water. If she didn’t quit watching him, she’d melt into a giant puddle of lust.

  Ever since he’d caressed her belly at her doctor’s appointment, the last of the Ten Commandments had become her mantra. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife.

  Her wise-guy inner voice had tried to insist she had nothing to worry about, seeing as old Mrs. Berger didn’t have a wife. Unfortunately, Casey was fairly certain sisters’ husbands—ex or otherwise—also came under the umbrella of the Almighty’s edict, whether it was stated outright or not. She allowed herself a smidgen of comfort that Thou shalt not covet was the very last of the commandments and came after a lot of other sins she would never dream of committing.

  She reminded herself again how superficial that mass of masculine pulchritude was and shoved herself away from the window, breathing deeply in an futile attempt to slow her pulse. She had to stop beating herself up.

  After all, Brianna’s friends had razzed her all the time about being married to Dr. Beefcake. So, obviously, Casey wasn’t alone in thinking her brother-in-law had the looks and body of a Greek god.

  Heck, a woman would have to be half dead not to notice how hot he was. Even the Wicked Witch of the West would hose herself down if she got a gander of David’s wet body in action.

  The phone’s shrill ring broke the peace in the house. “Hey,” Paul said after she answered. “I guess you’re all moved in.”

  “Pretty much. David’s out in the pool. If you hang on—”

  “No, don’t bother him. Just tell him one of my patients is hypertensive, so I’m inducing her. Dave’s her son’s pediatrician, and she’s only in her thirty-second week with twins. I know he’ll want to pop in at the NICU tonight and check on the babies.”

  “Okay. I’ll be sure to let him know. What’s the woman’s name?”

  “Sorry, Casey, I can’t tell you that.”

  “Oh, right. I forgot. HIPPA.”

  “Dave’ll know which patient it is.”

  After ending the call, she strolled toward the back door only to have the phone trill again, stopping her in her tracks. She pressed the talk button, and when her sister’s voice echoed in her ear, she grabbed the counter to steady herself.

  “I’m really sorry I haven’t called you back.” Brianna didn’t sound a bit surprised Casey had answered David’s phone.

  “As you should be. How’d you know I was here?”

  “Dave called my voicemail this morning and blasted me because you told him I’ve been ignoring your calls.”

  “What’d you expect? You make the Cowardly Lion seem downright brave.”

  She rolled her eyes. What was with her and the Wizard of Oz, lately? Next thing she knew, she’d be imagining Munchkins peeking out from behind the furniture.

  “I know,” Brianna said, a repentant note catching in her voice. “When he finished reaming me out, he told me he was moving you into the house today.” The line fell silent, and for a second, it seemed as if the connection had been broken. Finally Brianna’s voice quivered again. “Have you told Daddy about any of this?”

  In January, their father had married Liz, the woman he’d been dating for two years. He’d sold his house in Pennsylvania and moved to the milder climate in North Carolina to retire closer to Liz’s grandchildren. Casey spoke to her dad every few weeks by phone, but she hadn’t seen him since she’d become pregnant.

  “No, I’m leaving that up to you. I’m still hoping you’ll come home and try to work things out.”

  “I can’t. I promise I’ll fly back and spend a week or two with you after you have the baby.”

  “Doesn’t it bother you that I’m living in your house alone with your husband?”

  “Ex-husband,” Brianna corrected. “And it’s not my house anymore. David bought me out in our divorce.”

  “Do you realize he’s insisting I use the master suite, where you should be sleeping?”

  “Good. You deserve it. Make yourself at home.”

  If only she could relax enough around David to do t
hat. “Thanks. But I’m not planning on getting too comfortable here. Once you discover how lonely it is living alone, you’ll come to your senses and realize what a treasure you’ve thrown away. We both know how fickle you can be.”

  “Is that another veiled reference to the Thumbelina doll?” Brianna muttered.

  “No, but that’s a good examp—”

  “Damn it, Casey, I was eight years old. Are you ever gonna let me live that down?”

  “All I’m saying is you shouldn’t be afraid to change your mind in this case. David loves you. Your heart’s desire is here, not in Minneapolis, OZ, or anywhere else.”

  Oh, jeez. She cringed. All she needed now was a pair of bright red ruby slippers.

  “I care for him, too,” Brianna admitted.

  “Then what the H-E double L, pardon my French, are you doing there? Come home.”

  “I can’t.” Brianna’s voice cracked. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me.”

  “Just trust me, Casey. Sometimes love isn’t enough. My marriage was doomed no matter what. I know I’m doing the best thing for everyone.”

  “Says who?”

  “Look, you live your life, and I’ll live mine,” Brianna snapped in a this-discussion-is-closed tone. “I love you, and I’d really like to chat, but I’m moving into the furnished apartment I rented today. Enjoy the accommodations. Bye.”

  The line disconnected before Casey could say good-bye. She dropped the receiver into its charger and sighed as her sister’s I care for him, too reverberated in her head.

  There was no question it would be a pleasure living in David’s home and playing in its huge, well-equipped kitchen. She just had to make sure she didn’t enjoy the company as well.

  Chapter 5

  On an exhaustion scale of one to ten, he’d passed fifteen an hour ago. David cut the car’s engine and slumped back in the bucket seat. If it weren’t so muggy, he’d sleep right here in the garage. He wiped the sweat already condensing on his forehead and glanced at the clock on the dash. Only one o’clock? He was getting soft. As an intern, he never even had dinner until this hour.

  He hoisted himself out of the car and traipsed into the cool house through the laundry room. It probably wouldn’t seem so late if he hadn’t stayed up half the previous night rehearsing how to tell his parents they no longer had a daughter-in-law. He’d already made up an excuse when he’d taken his mother out alone on Mother’s Day. He’d claimed Brianna was traveling for business, because he’d still hoped she would change her mind about the divorce.

  As one would expect, his dad was crazy about Brianna. Her inherent sensuality and sparkling personality caused every guy over the age of ten to flex his muscles and suck his gut in. It was that same femininity and charm that made Brianna such a success as a sales rep and fundraising chairman for the charities she supported. Her involvement with MADD had forged a friendship between his mom and her. The two of them never got tired of yakking about the latest benefit function, make-up, and clothes.

  He pushed the laundry room door closed with his foot and yawned, rubbing his eyes. Trudging up the back staircase to the gallery overlooking the family room, he froze at the sight of Casey sleeping in the recliner below.

  She’d swept her tawny hair up into a high ponytail and wore a faded Tweety Bird nightshirt beneath the threadbare robe that had fallen open. She looked about twelve years old and sweet enough to push a diabetic into a sugar coma.

  He’d told her not to wait up for him.

  He crept back down the steps and removed the paperback lying open on her chest. He smiled at the picture of a bare-chested pirate embracing a woman in a low-cut gown.

  Thick lashes spread over Casey’s sleep-flushed cheeks like a couple of fuzzy caterpillars resting on two cotton candy clouds. Her mouth had the same vulnerable pout as a sleeping child’s. He dropped his gaze to her breasts slowly rising and falling with each soft breath. The generous bosom on the book cover had nothing on Casey’s pregnant rack. Even as angelic as she looked, she was definitely no child.

  He jerked his gaze southward to the tips of her toes, taking note of her rounded bottom and sleek legs along the way. No, sir. She might be pint-sized, but she was one hundred percent woman.

  Somehow, he suddenly didn’t feel quite so tired. Or at least, part of him didn’t. He squeezed his eyes shut. What was wrong with him? She was his sister-in-law.

  Evidently, no matter how inappropriate his erection might be, his body had finally realized how long it had been since he’d had sex. Still, regardless of whatever testosterone overload he might be experiencing, Casey deserved better than to have him ogling her while she slept. She should be upstairs in the privacy of her bedroom where she’d get a decent night’s sleep.

  Sucking in a deep breath, he slipped his arms under her shoulders and knees and scooped her up. Her face burrowed into his neck and the breath from a soft sigh tickled his throat. Her hair smelled just like fresh fruit salad.

  A strange primal protectiveness welled up in his chest. Damn. Maybe it wasn’t such a great idea to carry her up to her bed. Except now that he’d picked her up, it’d be ridiculous not to finish taking her upstairs.

  He’d always had his choice of women, and being a six-foot-two male with a heartbeat, he’d naturally gravitated toward tall willowy model-types. He never would’ve guessed how holding a tiny pregnant woman could awaken a guy’s caveman instincts.

  When he started up the steps, Casey yawned, and her lashes fluttered up. “What’re you doing?” she mumbled.

  “Taking you to....uh....putting you to bed.”

  “Oh.” She laid her head back on his shoulder and raised it again a second later, halfway up the stairs. “You know, I do have legs.”

  “I realize that.” How could he not with her bare silky thighs rubbing against his forearm?

  “Then put me down before you hurt something.”

  “Are you doubting my strength?” He chuckled, reaching the second floor landing.

  “I’m five months pregnant. I’d give Hulk Hogan a hernia.”

  “Look—if you make one more crack about weighing too much, I’m gonna put you over my knee and spank you. It’s women with attitudes like yours who raise daughters with eating disorders.”

  At the end of the long hallway, he pushed the master suite’s door open with his foot and gently laid her on the king-size bed.

  “Since you keep insisting we’re having a boy, you can breathe easy.”

  “It’s not funny. You have no idea how many thirteen-year-old girls I treat who’re starving themselves to fit the perfect body image they’ve been brainwashed to believe they should have. I don’t want to hear another word about you being fat.”

  “Okay. I’ll stop talking about it.”

  “No. I want you to quit thinking about it. You’re a normal healthy weight for a pregnant woman.”

  She glanced at the clock radio and promptly changed the subject. “Why’re you so late? I expected you to be back in a couple of hours.”

  He sank onto the edge of the mattress. “We had to put one of the twins on a vent. Then there was an accident, involving two cars with young families. Three of the kids were in critical condition, so I stayed to help out.”

  As understaffed as the ER had been that night, one of the children might have bled out if he hadn’t been there.

  A black composition book and pen lay on the night table. He picked it up and flipped the pages. “What’s this? You keep a diary?”

  “Not exactly. It’s more of a journal. I jot down poetry and some of my thoughts in it. I only write when I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

  Nodding, he tossed the notebook back on the table. “I imagine you’ve been doing a lot of scribbling, lately.”

  “You’ve no idea.”

  He silently stared at the vacant side of the mattress. He hated sleeping alone. As a kid, he’d taken a big stuffed dog to bed with him until he was twelve and James started teasing him. Huggin
g a pillow just wasn’t quite the same as having a warm soft woman in his arms.

  Casey shoved his shoulder. “Stop that.”

  “Huh?” He snapped his gaze to hers. “Stop what?”

  “Looking at this bed like you’re thinking about crawling into it with me.”

  Was he that obvious? Hell, it wasn’t as if he’d been thinking about doing anything but sleeping. Of course she couldn’t know that.

  Nevertheless, her maidenly outrage seemed inconsistent after what she’d implied in the parking lot the other day. Could he have misinterpreted what she’d meant? “So then you’re not attracted to me?”

  “David!”

  Oh, damn. Had he really said that out loud? This was coming out all wrong.

  “You’re my brother-in-law.” Her cheeks flushed to an even deeper pink.

  “Not anymore.” When he’d suggested Casey move into the house, he hadn’t considered the possibility that having her sleeping down the hall might become a sexual temptation. He’d never thought of her that way before.

  Or maybe he just hadn’t allowed himself see her that way.

  “We may not be in-laws at the moment, but when Brianna wises up, we will be again.”

  “I wouldn’t put money on that,” he muttered, intrigued as to why Casey still hadn’t answered him. “So are you?” he asked, unable to curb his curiosity.

  She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “Oh, Lord, spare me from men’s inflated egos.”

  “You’re evading the question.”

  “Yes, I find you attractive,” she blurted, turning her face away.

  Her reluctant admission gave birth to a paradox of emotions. Half of him felt flattered and aroused by her interest, while the other part was confused and not just a little terrified by the possible ramifications. Casey wasn’t just some bimbo he could casually screw and forget. She was having his baby.

  “Don’t take it personally,” she said as an afterthought. “The way my hormones have been gushing lately, I’d get turned on by a blow-up Homer Simpson doll.”

  Ouch. She could deflate a guy faster than a hypodermic could puncture a surgical glove. Still, even in popping his ego, her quirky sense of humor managed to make him laugh.