by Amy Fetzer
Anger lit his expression, anger on her behalf, as she said, "He never cared for an instant that his child was gone. Only wanted me and our life back just the way it was. He was too selfish to see we could never go backward after that."
"He was an idiot, Tessa."
"I like to think so," she said with a wry smile.
"You're going to be a great mother."
She smoothed one hand over her belly and took a bite of her sandwich. Mother. She'd waited and wanted so long and the words spilled from her lips. "I hated Ryan and for a long time I blamed him for the miscarriage. When I finally got over him, I decided that I didn't need him nor any man in my life to have what I wanted. And after a few years, I proved it." She watched her hand slide over the sphere of unborn life tucked beneath her vest and blouse, and Chase was mesmerized by the movements of his child shifting inside. "The clinic was the best option, other than risking disease and deceiving a man with casual sex."
"Why me? Or rather my donation," he added with a sour look. The more he thought of test tubes and cold examining rooms, the more he disliked it.
She glanced up briefly, holding his warm, blue gaze. "Well, beyond coloring that was exactly opposite of Ryan, it was nothing more than a feeling."
His features tightened with surprise.
"Must be my mother's influence. But I'd never tell her that." She shrugged. "Mother is rather … spiritual."
Chase's smile widened. "New Age?"
She laughed shortly. "More like another universe." She finished off her sandwich and dusted her fingertips, then her tummy. "No, no more," she groaned when he offered her a paper plate full of fruit. She sank down on her elbow, propping her head in her palm. She watched him eat, or rather devour the last of the sandwiches and fruit.
Beyond them was a baseball diamond and playground equipment shaped like a castle, with tire swings, chain bridges and children everywhere, swinging, running, screaming with laugher. Chase watched it for a moment, then turned to her. She could see it in his eyes, that need to share their energy. And when a baseball landed close and rolled, he reached for it as a boy of about eight came hunting after it.
"Hey, coach. Whatcha doin' here?" The boy's gaze shot to Tessa, her tummy, then to Chase.
"Hi, Jason, got a game going?" Chase offered him a bottle of water.
The boy wiped his sweaty face on his sleeve, then drank. "Yeah, me and the guys thought we'd practice." Chase and Tessa exchanged a smile. "Wanna play? We could use a pitcher. Tommy ain't—isn't—" he corrected when Chase eyed him "—very good today. He wiped out on his bike at school."
Chase tossed the ball up and down, then shook his head. "No, thanks. Go for a long one." Chase drew his arm back.
Tessa stopped him. "Go play."
He shook his head.
"I can see it in your face, Coach Madison. You want to. I'm okay just watching."
He looked at Jason waiting for the throw, then to the boys coming off the diamond to see what delayed their all-important practice. "You sure you don't mind?"
She took the ball, rose up on her knees and threw. It went high and long, and Jason had to back-step to catch it.
Chase was stunned and his wide eyes said as much. "Nice arm, Lightfoot."
"Shortstop, two years running, city league," she said with a touch of smugness.
He leaned close and kissed her. "Just a few minutes," he whispered, then called, "Hey, guys, wait up."
Tessa sank onto the pillows and quilt as Chase walked onto the grassy field, rolling up his sleeves. It was clear they all knew him, and soon they were deep into hitting some great shots. He remained bent over, hands braced on his knees, clapping occasionally, and his deep voice carried to her. When one child smacked the ball out of the field, Chase whooped like a fan, tousling the boy's hair, his expression fatherly proud. The sight of him, so comfortable and happy, made her heart trip. He praised the boys for every good hit, for their form, and when he stepped in to offer advice, adjust a grip, he encouraged. He was too good to be true, she thought, full and suddenly tired.
An hour later, Chase stood over her, drinking water, absently waving to his team as they mounted bicycles and rode home for dinner. She looked contented as she slept, her black hair loose from the bow and spread across the pillow. Her position on her side made her skirt ride up, and he valiantly tossed a blanket over those incredible legs. He sat down beside her, near her feet, and watched her sleep.
The muscles around his heart clenched as their child moved inside her, yet she slept on.
Chase was in trouble. Deep, dangerous trouble. He'd known it the instant he heard her laugh for the first time, saw her eyes gloss with tears. She was strong and independent and it killed her to trust him, even for a moment. But she did. She kissed like magic and erupted like … like an earthquake. He'd never felt this way about a woman before, not even with Janis. The two women were so completely different, he wondered now what he'd ever seen in his ex-wife. Everything about Tessa attracted him—the way she tilted her head when she questioned him, the cute habit she had of biting her lower lip when she was nervous or indecisive. He wanted to know more, like what she looked like when he made love to her, the expression on her face when his body brought hers to the threshold of desire. What it felt like to be moving inside her.
He recalled the moments in the storeroom and, though he would have preferred more privacy, he couldn't forget how her skin felt beneath his mouth, his fingers. The scent of her lingered on him and he loved it. God, if she only knew how close he had been to opening his jeans and pushing into her. Silently, he commended himself on his restraint and wondered how long it would last. Loving Tessa was better than breathing.
She stirred, and he changed the direction of his thoughts before the whole park full of people saw him make a fool of himself. "Tessa?" he called softly.
She woke, yawning and stretching, then jolted upright, lightly slapping her leg. "Ow, ow! Cramp. Bad cramp!" she cried, her look imploring him for help.
He came to his knees, cradling her calf in his thighs and digging his thumbs into the tight muscle. The blanket slid away, but Tessa didn't care. All she wanted was the clenching to stop, and then it did.
"Thank you," she breathed, his fingers still manipulating the muscle. "Uh, Chase?" She lifted herself up on her elbows and met his gaze. "It stopped."
"I know."
"Then let go."
He didn't. Instead he sank to the quilt, drawing her legs over his, and kept massaging her calves, ankles and feet. "You don't stretch out enough when you do your walks."
So male, she thought. An answer for everything. "I'm pregnant is the cause. Cramps are common. I'm carrying extra weight, hormones, et cetera, et cetera," she waved, yet it felt good. Her circulation was always the pits when she first woke up. "How was the game?"
"Jason was great. Timmy and Stephen need to work on their fielding, but I think we'll—"
He glanced up. She was smiling.
"Please tell me you have some faults, Chase Madison."
"My mother would kill to hear you say that."
"Well?"
"I've been known to eat over the sink and drink milk straight from the carton."
She waved that one off. "A guy thing. I want the dirt."
He looked at the sky, thoughtful.
"Oh, come on," she said, shoving him with her foot.
He grinned. "I squeeze the toothpaste from the middle," he said hopefully.
"Not good enough. I do too."
"I rarely sort laundry?"
She shook her head.
"I sleep in the nude?"
Her gaze slid lazily over him. That she'd like to see. "More."
"What do you want to know, Tessa? That I have a temper and it's taken me years to control it? That I'd rather work with my hands than in an office?" Those hands caressed her legs, distracting her. "That I avoid bars and nightclubs because I used to drink too much, hate living alone, and prefer videos to theaters?" Not satisfied, s
he urged him on. "Or that I plan my winter schedule around a hunting trip Colin and I take to Christian's place every year like clockwork, whether Christian likes it or not?" He leaned over her. "Or that I have one fault you won't believe."
"And that is?" she said, breathless with his nearness.
"I can't stop thinking about you and I want you in my bed, in my life."
A ripple of excitement roared through her. "A crime, I'm sure," she managed.
His brows rose.
"Why?" she finally said, gesturing to her tummy.
His expression softened and he lay beside her, his torso propped on his bent elbow. "I see beyond this, Tessa. Way beyond." He ran his hand familiarly over her belly and she caught it, stopping him. "And right now I'm so hot for you, if we were alone, you wouldn't get away."
"Is that a fact?" Her gaze shifted to his mouth, then back to his eyes. Feminine satisfaction raced through her.
He grasped her hand and beneath the rumpled blanket he pressed her palm to his arousal. "Fact."
Tessa gasped, a soft ragged burst. Her eyes closed. Her fingers flexed. Chase moaned. The image of him bare for her touch, their bodies entwined, bloomed in her mind. She opened her eyes and stared directly into his. His mouth was inches away.
"We definitely need to take this somewhere more private."
She jerked her hand back and sat up suddenly. Her? In his bed? The thought of him seeing her nude, like this, scared her.
"It's late, Chase, and Dana's been left alone too long."
Frowning, he sat up, touching her arm. "Tessa? Look at me."
She wouldn't. She busied herself with folding a blanket. "It's my shop, and neglecting it doesn't pay the bills. I have to restock inventory and there's jewelry to order." She knew she was rambling, but his words were laced with a commitment that was ludicrous to consider now.
But she didn't want to give up this day, not yet. She liked him a lot more than she'd ever anticipated, more than was wise, and she felt a strange pulling in the pit of her stomach when his fingers slid into her hair, tilting her head to look into her eyes.
"I'm a patient man, Tessa." The message was clear. This wasn't over. Not by a long shot. He drew her closer. He was going to kiss her again, give her that seductive energy he radiated. And when he did, she pulled him flush to her body and sank to the blanket with him in her arms. She didn't care that people watched, didn't care that his hands were where they shouldn't be. She wanted him to hold her.
"Chase Madison!"
The voice was strident and commanding. They broke apart and sat up to find Dia Lightfoot, in severe black and tall heels, staring down at them. No, not staring, glaring.
"What are you doing to my sister!"
"Has it been that long, Dia, that you can't remember?" Tessa asked before Chase could respond.
Chase's lips twitched to hold back a smile as he helped Tessa to her feet. Tessa motioned to Dia, who was glaring at Chase, and the two sisters spoke privately. Chase would have given his eyeteeth to hear the conversation and decided to make himself scarce with repacking the Jeep.
"Are you crazy?" Tessa's sister demanded.
"Dia. Get a grip."
"This is so unlike you."
"What? Kissing a man."
"No, kissing that man, in the park, in broad daylight, where everyone in town can see!"
Tessa planted her hands on her hips. "So." She didn't have to explain herself to anyone, least of all her kid sister. "God, Dia, what's happened to you? You used to be the one to instigate trouble, be reckless."
"That was then and this is now. Well?"
"Well, what?"
"Just what were you doing, besides kissing?"
Tessa blinked. "That's none of your business and tell me that's not the reason you hunted me down."
"No, Dana was worried and called. You've been gone all afternoon."
Tessa glanced at Chase as he finished loading the Jeep. "Yeah, I know."
"Careful, Sis."
Tessa frowned at her. "You were the one who said I should get to know him."
"Sure, so he wouldn't sue for custody. But that—" she waved to the spot near the tree "—is more than I meant."
"Afraid I'll stain your reputation?" Dia was the first of her family to oppose her decision to artificially inseminate.
That stung, and Dia knew the source. "No matter what I've said in the past, Tessa, it's you I worry about. You're vulnerable."
"Pregnancy does not make me stupid, Dia," she said, folding her arms over her stomach. "I know what I'm doing."
"It's the with whom I'm worried about."
"You need a break, Dia. Badly," she said, and left her sister standing on the grass, her expensive pumps sinking into the soft dirt. Tessa stopped beside Chase.
"I feel like a kid caught in the back seat of his daddy's car," he said.
She slanted him a glance. "You speaking from experience?"
"Nah, Dad never let me use his car. I had to buy my own and that didn't happen till I was in the Marines."
"Not in college?"
"Marines first, college came later." He shook his head, rueful. "I'm the black sheep of the family, you know."
"You?"
He grinned. "A fault you like?"
Her lips twitched. "Only if it doesn't carry over into genes." She rubbed her tummy.
"Yeah well, going into the Marines ticked my dad off good. Not following in the family dynasty didn't help, either."
Chase's father was a politician, she recalled, a retired senator or something. "And now?"
"God, I hope he's over it," he said dryly, amused.
Tessa laughed uneasily, not ready to meet his parents. That was just a little too deep. They climbed into the car.
"Your sister upset you?" He inclined his head toward Dia.
Tessa shook her head. "She's just wound up a little too tight these days." Tessa glanced out the window and Dia waved, offering her sister an I-hope-you-forgive-me smile as she slipped into her red Mercedes.
"She was mad, Tessa."
She sighed, brushing dry bits of grass from her blouse. "She warned me that I'm oh-so-vulnerable while carrying her niece."
"Family has a right to worry."
"Do yours?" Instantly she wished the words back.
Chase scoffed happily. "My mom is champing at the bit to meet you and Dad claims that his first grandson is destined to be president."
Tessa immediately looked out the window, unexpected tears filling her eyes as she realized how her decision, her baby, was affecting so many people. Yet he'd never reminded her of anything but his own concern. She knew this was his family's first grandchild, an occasion they should be involved in, and she was cutting them off. Even her own family was sort of lax about the baby. As if they weren't sure they could love a baby made with a stranger's sperm donation. But Chase, she knew beyond doubt, loved this child.
He pulled into a slot before her shop, and she was discreetly drying her eyes when he opened her door. Immediately, he frowned. "Angel?"
She slid from the seat. "I had a wonderful day, Chase. Thank you."
When she wouldn't look at him, he tipped her chin. "Was it something I said?"
She rested her hand on his broad shoulder. "No. I think I just need some time to think."
He nodded and knew she meant without him around. He ducked and brushed his lips to hers and she clung to him, fighting back tears and kissing him deeply.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, and he thought she meant about crying.
But Tessa realized she was being selfish and cruel and that keeping Chase out of her life, at this moment, wasn't fair, no matter how much it might hurt her later. And as she left him and entered her shop, she realized that she no longer thought of him as a donor, or even her baby's father, but as her man.
During the next week, Tessa saw Chase every day, even if it was just for a few moments between picking up supplies for his jobs. Half the time he was covered with dirt and sweat and he'd steal
a wet, smacky kiss, then head out, unmindful of his crew hooting from the back of a truck. Madison Construction built homes, she discovered, one at a time, customized. She admired the fact that he'd started out doing it alone, a one-man operation with no financial help from his father.
One day when he didn't show at her shop, she worried, but still couldn't bring herself to call his office or home.
"I missed you today, angel. I have a game after work. Call you later," was the message on her answering machine.
Tessa listened to it twice, missing him.
* * *
Eight
« ^ »
Chase turned his head to spit and nearly choked when he saw Tessa sitting in the bleachers. He grinned and missed his best player hitting a line drive to second base. He couldn't believe she was here. Here. And he had difficulty concentrating with his heart beating so hard in his chest. He called his player home, then strode toward the stands. She climbed down and met him at the fence, her fingers in the links. The fence came to just below her chin.
"Do you mind?" she asked hesitantly.
"Hell, no!" He resisted the urge to drag her across the fence and into his arms. "How long have you been here?"
"Since the second inning." That surprised him, since it was the ninth now. "You've got a good team," she said, looking out over the sea of blue jerseys and caps in the Mustang dugout before bringing her gaze back to his. She made a disgusted face. "Tell me that isn't tobacco in your mouth, Chase."
He blew a huge bubble, popped it, then sucked the pink gum back into his mouth.
"Worried about my health?"
Yeah, she was. But she wasn't going to puff up his already pleased look. She reached out to rub gum stuck to his lip.
It was a wifely thing to do, almost motherly, and he wanted this mother. Her navy blue bike shorts and sneakers showed off her shapely legs and the matching shirt, simple and loose, draped her softly. Her hair was twisted in a knot on her crown, the early summer heat dampening strands at her neck and temple. She looked good enough to eat. And he told her so.