In the waiting room, she tried to concentrate on a magazine rather than another conversation with Dylan. However, he paced and she couldn’t help but watch him as he did. She couldn’t help but picture him in the wild, riding an elephant, camouflaging himself in the brush, hiking where other men wouldn’t go.
When they heard footsteps in the hall, Shaye hoped they belonged to Dr. Carrera. The middle-aged neonatologist came into the waiting room with a slight smile on his face. It was the first Shaye had seen since this whole situation had begun.
“How did it go?” she asked, worry sticking in her throat.
“He’s breathing on his own.”
Dylan moved close to her then, so close their arms brushed. “Can we see him?” he asked.
“For a few minutes. The lab results are promising, too.”
Shaye experienced such relief she almost felt dizzy with it. To her surprise, Dylan settled his arm around her shoulders. “Let’s go.”
The contact felt right and she didn’t stop to analyze why.
As they sat with Timmy, they reached to touch him. Sadness gripped Shaye when she thought about Julia and Will never holding their son, never feeding him, never kissing him good-night. Shaye couldn’t wait until she could actually hold Timmy in her arms and she wondered if Dylan felt that way, too.
They didn’t talk much except to comment on a monitor or readout, but their gazes met often and quiet understanding passed between them. They both had this child’s best interests at heart.
When their allotted visiting time was up, they returned to the waiting room again, which had become a second home.
“Are you hungry?” Shaye asked, feeling pangs of hunger for the first time in several days.
“Actually, I am,” Dylan responded with a smile as if he were surprised.
“If you’d like to come back to my place, I can make us something to eat. I thought you might like to see where Timmy will be living. All the hours I’ve been waiting here, I’ve been planning what I’m going to do with my spare room.”
He took a few moments to respond, as if he was coming to grips with her guardianship of his nephew. “Do you have groceries at your place?” he asked. “We could stop on the way.”
“Grocery shopping is probably a good idea. We can call the hospital once we get to my town house to make sure everything is still okay.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
They both drove their cars to the grocery store and Shaye was glad of that. Being cooped up with Dylan inside a vehicle would be altogether too nerve-tingling. However, the trip through the store was almost as bad. They only used one cart, and he pushed it. The sensation of shopping with Dylan should have seemed strange, but somehow it didn’t. Their hips bumped as they walked down the canned goods aisle.
When Shaye glanced at Dylan, he was looking at her.
As she moved ahead of the cart, she left him to navigate on his own. But he was always right there beside her. Their hands tangled as they reached for the same apple. Their fingers brushed as they realized they both liked the same kind of salad dressing. When Dylan insisted on loading the grocery bags into his SUV, she helped him, the sleeve of her jacket rubbing against his, his hands coming to within a few inches of her body when he took a bag from her grasp.
Sliding into her car for the drive to her town house was almost a relief, yet a disappointment, too. She was glad Dylan had agreed to go to her place for lunch.
The older streets of Wild Horse Junction were lined with larch and aspen. Pines decorated backyards and towered high over decades-old houses. Shaye, however, lived in a newer section of town where the western Victorian flavor wasn’t as prominent. The groupings of duplexes had high-peaked roofs with modern trim. With tan siding and blue shutters, they announced that Wild Horse Junction wasn’t just a small Western town, but rather a growing town. Retirees who didn’t mind the volatile winters moved here every year. Tourists on vacation who fell in love with the town sometimes relocated whole families into the area. Wild Horse Junction fostered a sense of community and that’s what Shaye liked most.
“Nice section of town,” Dylan commented as Shaye opened the front door and they went inside.
“I like it. Gwen lives in a ranch house on a street behind this one.”
“Is that by design or coincidence?” he asked with a smile.
“By design. She lived with her father for a few years after she got her training, but then decided it would be better for both of them if she was on her own.”
That decision hadn’t been an easy one for Gwen, Shaye knew. Her father, an alcoholic, had played on her sense of responsibility for years until finally Gwen realized she was enabling him. That was when she’d moved out.
After Dylan set the bags on the table in the kitchen, he scanned the downstairs.
“This is nice,” he remarked, his gaze passing over the rust, brown and turquoise Southwestern design on the sofa, the light oak tables, a sculpture of The End of the Trail, as well as a landscape painting of the Rocky Mountains above the sofa. All of the colors coordinated, coming together in the braided rug on the floor.
“I have two bedrooms upstairs,” she said in a chipper voice that didn’t come off quite that way. Talking with Dylan about bedrooms made her heart beat much too fast.
To cover her confusion, she said, “I’m going to call the hospital to make sure Timmy’s still doing okay.”
With a nod, Dylan slipped off his jacket and hung it around one of the kitchen chairs. She unzipped her parka and arranged it on a chair across from his. Their gazes met and she felt a trembling start inside.
He broke the silence. “I’d better stow away the eggs and milk while you make the call.”
They’d decided on grilled ham-and-cheese sandwiches for lunch, along with deli salads. The meal would take about five minutes to prepare.
Crossing to the counter, she picked up the cordless phone and dialed the hospital. When she reached the nurses’ desk, Dr. Carrera happened to be there. Apparently from her conversation with the nurse, he realized who was calling and asked to speak to her.
“The nurse said he’s stable. That’s true, right?” Shaye asked the physician.
“He’s stable. By the end of the week, hopefully we’ll take out the feeding tube and he can eat on his own, too. Now I want you to stop worrying, Shaye. Relax. Try to find your life again, because as soon as you take this baby home, it’s going to change.”
“How long do you think that will be?”
“A few weeks. A month. I can’t tell you for sure. But to get ready, you have to stay well, get plenty of rest and stop worrying.”
Over the past week Shaye had wrapped her professional demeanor around her, the one that stayed in control, took everything in stride, was assertive when she had to be. Now at Dr. Carrera’s words, that facade cracked along with her voice when she answered, “I will.”
As she set the handset in the base, tears came to her eyes. They spilled over and ran down her cheeks. There was absolutely nothing at all she could do about them.
She felt Dylan come up behind her. She felt his strong, tall body close to her back. His large hand capped her shoulder. “Is Timmy all right?”
“He’s fine. It’s just…Dr. Carrera told me to relax and stop worrying. Ever since this whole thing started, I’ve been operating on autopilot and—”
Dylan turned her around, put his palm under her chin and made her look at him. “I know what you mean. I did the same thing. It’s habit for me. After my parents died, I had to come up with a plan…not give in to the loss. Julia and I talked about that once. For me, anger took over instead of grief. It didn’t go away until I was finally her legal guardian and we were really brother and sister again. Now, losing Julia was awful, but I have to think about Timmy.”
“I know, and she would have wanted us to think about Timmy first. You know that as well as I do.” Her tears were falling again. “I just know I miss her and I’m still worried—”
When Dylan enfo
lded Shaye in his arms, she knew he was giving comfort. As he bent his head to hers and kissed her, she knew they were looking for escape and they needed to affirm life. She never expected to get so lost in Dylan…never expected to respond to his kiss as if her life depended on it. Her hands laced in his shaggy hair, loving the feel of it, the coarse texture of it. While his tongue slid into her mouth, his hands pulled her even closer. There was no space between them. The entire length of her body was pressed against him, and she was excited by the maleness of every aspect of him. His chest was hard. His belt buckle pressed into her tummy. And below that…
How long had it been since a man had wanted her? Since she’d wanted a man? How long had it been since she’d felt fully alive as a woman? How long had it been since touching and being touched hadn’t seemed important anymore?
Much too long.
Dylan broke away to trail kisses down her neck, and her knees felt weak. As his fingers fumbled with the buttons on her blouse, she pulled his turtleneck from his jeans. She slid her hands underneath onto his bare skin…into the soft chest hair. He groaned, a deep guttural sound that made her wet. Time and place and reason disappeared as they undressed each other in a frenzy of wanting to touch and taste and enjoy.
They were alive and had to prove it. They had lost and wanted to forget it.
After they were both undressed, Dylan pushed grocery bags aside and lifted Shaye onto the table. Its round edge was hard under her knees. Then he slid her forward until her legs went around him and their bodies met. She wanted their joining but he seemed intent on making sure she was more than ready for it. As he kissed her, his calloused hands caressed her breasts.
“I need you,” he said as he rubbed his thumb over her nipple.
“I need you, too,” she admitted in a rush, never before experiencing this hungry desire that couldn’t wait.
When Dylan’s hands slid under her bottom and he pressed inside her, a moan broke from her lips. As she held on to him, she knew she’d never forget this union as long as she lived. One streak of pleasure galloped against the next, and the breakneck speed of the race left her breathless. Dylan’s skin was slick and so was hers. They glistened, slid, enjoyed every single moment of pleasure. As her climax built, she began an ascent, the air growing thinner, her world expanding into a universe she’d never known. The experience was like standing atop the Painted Peaks gazing at the stars. The wonder of Dylan inside her seemed too big to comprehend. Giving up logic and rational thought, she let herself go, let Dylan take her to a foreign land where everything seemed possible.
Murmuring her name, he gave one faster and longer thrust and they were both calling out, both taking all the pleasure they could get, both alive in the moment.
However, it only took a few moments for cold reality to set in.
She shivered.
Dylan pulled away.
Their gazes met and held as if they were seeing each other for the first time.
“That wasn’t me.” Absolutely embarrassed by what had happened, she quickly hopped off the table, scooped up her panties and quickly pulled them on. Then she plucked up her blouse, shrugged into it, buttoning it in a hurry.
“Who was it, then?” Dylan asked almost curiously, as if his world hadn’t been shaken, as if what had just happened was commonplace for him.
“I don’t…I don’t sleep around. I don’t—”
With him still naked, she couldn’t help but notice every inch of him.
“Don’t have regrets, Shaye. We both needed that.”
“Not have regrets? Dylan, I’ve only ever made love to one other man in my life! I’ve never let hormones rule my head. I’ve never even thought of doing that…of doing that on my kitchen table.”
Taking her by both arms now, he gazed into her eyes. “We needed to prove we’re still alive and to rejoice in that.”
Backing away, she said, “It was wrong.”
“In my book, it wasn’t wrong or right. It just happened.”
Not liking the nonchalance of his attitude, she stepped into her slacks, then pulled them up, zippering and buttoning them.
As she tucked her blouse neatly inside, her hands shook. She felt embarrassed, confused and altogether unnerved. “You and I live by different codes. I don’t live for the moment. I think about consequences, and I never get involved unless I know the relationship has somewhere to go.”
“And that’s why you’ve only slept with one man?” Dylan asked with a quirk of his brow.
Shaye didn’t usually swear, but she felt like doing it now. “This was a mistake. Maybe you sleep with a woman after every shoot—”
“I don’t.” The words were bit out and she could tell he was angry now.
By the time she ran her fingers through her mussed hair, Dylan was dressed, looking dark, dangerous and much too sexy for her well-being.
“I’d better go.”
Keeping her shoulders straight, she responded defiantly, “You paid for the groceries. You should stay for lunch.”
She hadn’t wanted him to pay, but he’d slipped out his wallet and given the cashier money before she’d had a chance to protest.
“I don’t think you want to sit at lunch making small talk any more than I do.” He pulled his jacket from the chair, put it on and zippered it. “What are the chances you could get pregnant from today?”
That was always a man’s basic worry, she guessed, feeling tears well up again. She blinked them away, mentally calculating her monthly cycle. “I should be safe.”
“There are early pregnancy tests. Maybe you could use one before I leave Wild Horse.”
And then what? If she was pregnant, he would stay? She doubted that. Dylan Malloy had a life to live and nothing was going to stop him.
He headed for her door, but before he opened it, he added, “I just want you to know, I’ve never had unprotected sex with a woman before.”
Then he was outside…with the door closing behind him.
Never had unprotected sex? He was handsome, sexy and roamed the world. How could she possibly believe that?
A week later, remembering every minute of what had happened in Shaye’s town house, Dylan sat in Walter Ludlow’s office, Shaye in the chair beside him.
Clearing his throat, Walter straightened his tie. “Since Julia survived her husband, everything of his went to her. However, since she died, all of it, of course, now goes to Timmy. Because Shaye is his legal guardian, she has jurisdiction over it all. However, Julia left particular personal effects to Dylan, and Will left some to his mother. Since she went back to Nebraska, she’d like the things she inherited shipped back there.” He took off his glasses and laid them on his desk. “Shaye, you can live in the house if you’d like, rather than sell it.”
“I’d prefer to sell it and put the money in a trust fund for Timmy.”
With a glance at Shaye, Dylan asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to live there? It’s bigger than your place.”
“No, I’d rather not.”
“So, Dylan,” Walter drawled, “I need to know what to do with the things Julia left specifically to you. I know Shaye entrusted you with the task of sorting through Julia’s personal effects.”
Dylan didn’t hesitate. “I’ll put them in storage.” He turned once more to Shaye. “Since Timmy’s doing so well, I’ll be leaving in a few days.”
There wasn’t one iota of surprise on Shaye’s face. “I assumed you’d be leaving soon,” she responded stiffly.
Her words bothered him more than he wanted to admit. Before he left Wild Horse Junction, there was something they needed to settle.
While visiting Timmy this past week, he hadn’t seen her much. They’d seemed to arrange their schedules so they wouldn’t run into each other. One of the nurses had told him Shaye had temporarily gone back to work and stopped in whenever she could. He visited with Timmy during the day, knowing she often spent the evening there. He’d passed his nights sorting through the transparencies in his spare ro
om, thinking about Julia, barely noticing how his work had changed through the years. He and Shaye had exchanged hellos, goodbyes and “he’s doing well today,” but that was about it. When Walter had called this meeting, Dylan had braced himself to see her in close quarters again…braced himself for the consequences from their intimate tryst.
Glancing down at his notes, Walter concluded, “I think that’s all we need to discuss. Dylan, if you’d like to be present when Shaye meets with the real estate agent, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”
“I don’t need to be there,” he commented. Spending more time than necessary in that house where Julia and Will had expected to live happily ever after would accomplish no purpose.
A few minutes later, while standing in Walter’s foyer, Dylan kept his voice low as he asked Shaye, “Did you take a pregnancy test?”
“Yes,” she answered tersely. “I’m not pregnant. You can leave with a clear conscience.”
Her insinuation and righteous attitude rankled. “We were both there, Shaye. Neither of us considered protection. You can just be grateful we were lucky.”
The silence was so dense, he had to cut it. “I told Walter to send me reports on Timmy. I’ll make sure he can always contact me.”
She didn’t respond.
The urge was strong to put his arms around Shaye, to bring her close, to kiss her again. Instead, he thrust the urge aside.
After he opened the door, they stepped outside. Without a word she headed for her car and he climbed into his. They were going their separate ways.
As he switched on the ignition, he thought about Africa and the animals he’d photograph there. In a few days, Wild Horse Junction would again be part of his past. Freedom and his work called to him as it had for years.
Yet now as he accepted the call, he felt reluctant to go. Two stark truths battered his reasons to leave.
Shaye’s touch had affected him at core level.
Timmy had Julia’s eyes and nose.
His nephew was the only family he had left. If he fought for custody…
But Julia had apparently believed that Timmy needed Shaye as a mother more than he needed a father— Dylan as a father. Dylan needed distance from this situation to see it more clearly.
Custody For Two (Baby Bonds #1) Page 5