by JM Stewart
Her stomach dipped and swayed. “A bath?”
“Mmm-hmm.” He nipped at her bottom lip, then took her hand and led her into the attached bathroom. “I seem to recall we have some unfinished business in this tub. When we’re done, I’m going to lay you on this bed and worship every inch of you. Until sometime tomorrow morning.”
She followed, deliriously happy and amazed. The day she’d left him all those months ago seemed like another lifetime, another world. Back then, she never would have thought they’d end up here. Somehow, despite all the odds, they’d found their way back to each other. The amazing part was, they were stronger for it. Even on the day she married him, she hadn’t felt this close to him. She had no doubt that whatever the future held, they’d tackle it. Together.
“How are we going to tell Allie?”
Jackson stopped on the other side of the threshold and turned to her, tugging her against him, his fingers already attempting the buttons on her blouse.
“You worry too much. She’ll be fine. After all, she’s your daughter. Tough as nails.” After several unsuccessful attempts to undo the buttons, he frowned and let out a quiet growl. He bent and nipped at her bottom lip, murmuring against her mouth. “My sweater I could take off fine, but somehow, I can’t seem to manage buttons. I hate that I can’t undress you. Put me out of my misery, sweetheart. Take. This. Off.”
She smiled and made quick work of the buttons on her blouse. The last one undone, she held her breath and slid the shirt from her shoulders, letting the garment drop to the floor behind her. Then she waited for his reaction. When she’d left the cabin, she’d been so upset, she hadn’t taken off the lingerie. She’d merely gotten dressed, half numb with grief. Now she was grateful she’d left it on.
Catching sight of the lingerie, Jackson froze, surprise and hunger flaring in his eyes. The sheer fabric of her dark, clingy camisole left little to the imagination. It was tasteful but risqué.
His gaze slid over her but stopped at her nipples, straining against the fabric. Oh, she knew that’s what he stared at, for his thumb followed his gaze, swiping over one taut peak. “Damn.”
A shiver ran through her, and Becca closed her eyes, a pleased smile easing across her mouth. “Lila took me shopping last Wednesday. She insisted I needed something sexy.”
He tugged her against him and claimed her mouth, whispering against her lips. “Remind me to thank her next time we see her.”
Epilogue
Two steps through the front door, Becca stopped short. She closed her eyes, inhaling the delicious aroma of freshly baked garlic bread and bacon, with a spicy hint of cinnamon. Following the sound of little-girl giggles into the kitchen, she stopped in the entrance. Jackson and Allie stood at the island in the center. Their two blond heads were bent together, their conversation hushed. Allie had her hands over her mouth, grinning at Jackson like she had a secret.
Neither had noticed her yet.
Dishes of food lined the granite countertop. A ceramic serving bowl was filled with steaming pasta and a plate held sliced garlic bread.
“Smells good in here.”
Both heads snapped in her direction. At the sight of her, Allie giggled. A distinct giggle she knew well. The conspiratorial twinkle in her eyes as she darted a glance at her father had suspicion itching at the edges of Becca’s consciousness.
“Evening, sweetheart.” Jackson smiled and rounded the counter. Having lost the cast a week ago, he now had use of both arms, wrapping them tightly around her as he pulled her in for a kiss. His lips settled over hers, little more than a soft, lingering peck, but so warm and welcoming everything but the feel of him went momentarily forgotten.
This. During their separation, she’d missed this the most. His welcoming kiss when she came home from work. These days, he usually beat her home.
Allie giggled again. The sound said their daughter had caught her parents kissing, reminding Becca they weren’t alone. Jackson pulled back but didn’t release her, his eyes lit up. “Our daughter and I have a surprise for you.”
She couldn’t help but smile in return. “I have a surprise for you, too.”
“Me first.” Mischief glinted in his eyes. He released her and took her hand instead, tugging her behind him to the center island. There, he picked up a fork, twirled it in the pasta, and held the bite out to her. “I thought you could use a break tonight. Allie and I took care of dinner. Taste this and tell me what you think.”
As she accepted the bite, the flavors exploded on her tongue. Chicken carbonara. Firm but tender pasta, perfectly cooked chicken, topped with a rich, creamy sauce containing a hint of smoky, salty bacon. “This is wonderful. Where’d you pick this up at?”
Allie giggled again.
Jackson grinned so big it took over his entire face. “I didn’t.”
Becca looked from one to the other. Suspicion no longer itched at the edges of her consciousness . . . it smacked her upside the head.
“All right, what’s going on?” She narrowed her eyes, pointing her finger from one to the other. “You two look mighty guilty. What’s the joke?”
Jackson set down the fork and took her hands in his, stroking her fingers. “All those father-daughter dates Allie and I have been going out on?”
She nodded. Over the last eight weeks, father and daughter had gone out once a week, just the two of them, but they never told her where they went.
“I signed us up for a cooking class.” Jackson watched her with careful eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching with his effort to hold back a smile.
Allie bounded around the counter at her, her little face beaming with pride and joy. “Daddy’s learning how to cook, Mommy!”
As the knowledge slammed into her brain, Becca turned her head, took in the bowl of pasta, the garlic bread, the smells filling the entire house. Awe and surprise hit full force. She turned to look at the two of them, beaming at her.
“You . . . made this?” She stared at Jackson, waiting for him to deny it, sure her mouth had to be hanging open, but unable to hide her reaction. The man couldn’t cook to save his life.
Obviously pleased by her reaction, his smile finally spread. “Allie and I made dinner together.”
Allie threw herself against Becca’s side, wrapping her arms around both Becca and Jackson. “We made dessert, too!”
“Tell her what we made.” Jackson looked at Allie, pride in his eyes.
“Pudding!” Allie released them, jumping up and down beside them. “We made rice pudding!”
“I love rice pudding.” Warmth filled Becca’s chest, and her eyes flooded as the moment washed over her. She’d been officially home for eight weeks now. They’d been taking things slowly, for Allie’s sake. They’d only told her last week that they were trying to make their relationship work again. Becca hadn’t even officially moved back into their room yet. She still slept in the spare bedroom. But Allie had taken the news in stride. She’d squealed, much the same way she had when Jackson had told her she could keep Fred.
Jackson really had changed. He was home on time every night, and every day when she came home from the dojo to find him, she was grateful for the second chance they’d gotten. This time, however, the gratitude swelling in her chest nearly knocked her off her feet.
Jackson wrapped his arms around her, pulled her against his chest, and pressed his cheek to hers. “Tell me those are happy tears.”
“Very happy. This was a sweet surprise.” She hugged him tight in return, hesitated, then forced the words out past the lump in her throat. “It’s also ironic. I came home with a surprise for you, too. I went to see a doctor today.”
She’d gotten news she’d expected, but which had still left her stunned all the same. She couldn’t wait to tell him.
He pulled back, concern puckering his brow. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” She bit her
bottom lip and nodded, darting a glance back at Allie, who stood watching them with a smile on her face. Their daughter did a lot of smiling whenever she saw the two of them showing affection. Occasionally, in the middle of a tender moment, she’d run up and throw her arms around the both of them. Except Becca wanted to tell Jackson first. They could figure out how to tell Allie together later. “I kind of wanted to tell you in private.”
Seeming to understand, Jackson peered around Becca. “Sweet pea, why don’t you go finish setting the table for supper.”
“’Kay.” Allie nodded, picked up a stack of plates and silverware off the island, and moved toward the table in the breakfast nook.
When Allie was well out of earshot, Becca barely managed to contain her elation. “I’m pregnant.”
His face blanked, and for a long, aching minute, he simply stared at her. “You’re sure?”
She nodded. “I heard the heartbeat. Strong and fast. A hundred and fifty-six beats per minute.”
Jackson’s arms closed around her, crushing her to him. He lifted her off her feet and twirled her around in a circle before setting her down again.
A giggle escaped her. “I guess this means you’re happy?”
“More than happy. I didn’t think I could get a better gift than my girls coming home, but this . . . I feel so very blessed.” He kissed her gently and whispered against her mouth, only loud enough for her to hear, “Do you suppose we conceived at the cabin?”
She immediately followed the direction of his thoughts. “Wouldn’t it be an ironic twist of fate? Like starting all over again.”
“Mmm. Another chance to do this over.” He pressed his nose to hers. “Marry me, Becca. I know we said we’d wait and take things slow, but I don’t want to wait anymore to make you mine again. This time, I want you to know I’m marrying you because I can’t live without you.”
Love shined like the sun in his eyes, and tears pricked behind her eyelids. Her heart felt full to bursting.
“I’ll always be yours, Jack.” She pressed close and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. “The idea is beautiful. I love it.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners, illuminating from within. “Would that be a ‘yes’?”
“Yes.” She whispered the word and lifted onto her toes to kiss him. “I love you, Jackson. I always will.”
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Keep reading for an excerpt from
RISKING IT ALL
Available now from InterMix
“Kyle, I’m pregnant.”
The smile Kyle Morgan opened his front door with slid from his face. The cheerful greeting he’d worked hard to drum up lodged in his throat. For a moment, he could only stare, stunned, at the woman on the other side of the threshold.
He’d woken in a bad mood this morning. Another blinding headache had grabbed him last night and hadn’t let go. A detective for the Puyallup Police Department, the homicide he and his partner, Marsha, worked on reached another dead end. Four women had died in the span of two days, all left with the same calling card, and they weren’t one step closer to finding their killer. The perp had evaded them every step of the way so far. It made sleeping impossible and had put him in a foul mood.
Namely, because he couldn’t stop thinking about her. On the other side of the threshold stood the only woman capable of tying him in a million knots. Cecelia Anton had been his best friend since he was ten. Three years ago, hell, even six months ago, he might have picked up the phone and called her. He might have gotten home from work at two in the morning, but he knew damn well she’d have answered. She’d have known exactly what to say to talk him out of the angry regret and failure wound tight in his stomach. Except the thought of talking to her now left him more conflicted than this damn case.
How did you deal with falling in love with your best friend, knowing you could never have her? He’d been avoiding her. He hadn’t seen her in two weeks, and he hadn’t been able to stop missing her. Or wishing he could go back to a simpler time when her showing up on his doorstep didn’t leave him so conflicted. The mere sight of her through the peephole, and a goofy grin plastered itself across his face, only to sink seconds later as the familiar rush of attraction flooded his body.
Now, there she stood, dripping on his welcome mat. She was drenched from top to bottom. Her light brown locks, normally shiny and bouncing around her chin, now lay plastered to her head, water dripping from the ends. Her arms hung limp at her sides, her hands having gotten lost in the sleeves of the thick white sweater that now drooped on her slender form. Outside, a mid-March storm battered the building, sending gusts of wind howling up the stairwell and blowing past him inside his apartment. By the looks of her, she’d walked over to his apartment in it.
Her eyes caught his. Familiar, round eyes, the color of warmed honey and flecked with gold. Ceci had never been good at hiding her emotions. Everything she felt always showed on her face. Now, her eyes confirmed what he already knew. As much as he wished otherwise, he hadn’t heard wrong. The woman he loved was pregnant with a baby his heart yearned to be his.
The part of him that had protected her since somewhere around third grade told him he was being selfish. This ought to be about her, not him. He was her best friend, and she obviously needed him, but for several moments, he could only stare and remember to breathe. Emotions swamped him faster than he could stop them. An inferno of anger and betrayal ignited his blood. His hands curled into fists at his sides, itching to swing out and put a dent in the wall beside him. She had no idea how much it hurt to hear her say those words. No idea that the mere thought of her with someone else stabbed at his gut like a knife with a jagged blade. Because he could never tell her.
Thunder crashed overhead, shaking the thin walls of his apartment. The lights flickered once, twice, snapping him back to the present.
She needs you, idiot. Snap out of it.
Stepping into his role as her best friend, Kyle drew a deep, calming breath and blew it out, releasing the tangle of emotion caught in his chest. He gathered his wits about him and forced an impassive expression and his body to relax. If he didn’t, he’d say things he’d regret. Like tell her he was in love with her. Or, worse, he’d go find her boyfriend, Jimmy, the schmuck no doubt responsible for the tears in her eyes, and put a little fear into him. Experience told him she wouldn’t be standing on his doorstep soaking wet if Jimmy had been happy about the pregnancy.
Positive he had his wayward emotions under control, he reached across the arm’s-length space between them, took her gently by the shoulders, and pulled her inside.
“Come here.” He drew her to him, and she crumbled, sagging against him, wrapping her arms around his waist as if to hang on for dear life.
“Oh God, Kyle, I don’t know what to do.” She buried her face in his chest and sobbed. Gut-wrenching, shoulder-shaking sobs that slowly shredded his insides.
He tightened his hold on her and rested his cheek against the top of her head, steeling himself against the emotions threatening to choke him. The feel of her in his arms was both too much and not enough. Holding Ceci was like getting his hands on the forbidden fruit. He could see it and touch it, but he could never take a bite or taste its sweetness melting on his tongue. He couldn’t ever let her see how her admission affected him. He could never tell her he’d fallen in love with her. Aside from the fact that he was lying to her, he’d made a promise to a dying old woman to protect her at all costs. Who knew what lasting effects her post-traumatic stress might have on her? Not to mention that sitting in a prison in upstate New York was a man who, once upon a time, had wanted her dead.
Not that knowing those facts, or even reminding himself a million times, ever helped. The feelings rose from a deep well he hadn’t even realized was there until one day he found himself reacting to her the
way a man reacts to a woman, rather than just his best friend. Now, knowing she was pregnant with another man’s child made him long for everything he could never have with her. Yet he was grateful simply to have her in his life at all.
Her sobs slowly quieted to the occasional hiccup, and, with a deep, shaky breath, she lifted her head and pulled out of his embrace. She sniffled and laid a hand against the wet spot now covering the center of his chest. “I’m sorry. I got you all wet.”
“It’s okay. I can change.” He cupped her face in his palms, wiped the tears from her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, and offered her a gentle smile. “How ’bout we go dry you off, hmm? Then you can tell me what happened.”
She nodded, and he slipped his hand into hers, threading their fingers. Hers were ice-cold. He led her down the short hallway toward the back of his apartment. Ceci lived only a ten-minute walk from here, but they were knee-deep in the rainy season. Washington’s west coast was well-known for its constant cloud cover and excessive rainfall. For them, fall, winter, and spring rolled into one long season, and they were in the middle of it.
That she’d walked to him in the pouring rain told him more than words could that she needed him as her best friend. Whatever he felt for her would be squelched and shoved back into the box in his chest where it belonged.
When they reached the bathroom, he released her hand. After fetching a clean bath towel, he crossed into his bedroom and pulled a set of clean, dry clothing from his dresser. When he rejoined her in the hallway, she was staring down at her hands, splayed across her flat stomach.
“What am I going to do?” Confusion and the heaviness of her predicament etched her features, seeming to weigh on her.