“Oh.” Barbara placed her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. But you are going to propose, aren’t you?”
Brandon rolled his eyes. He was almost forty and his mother still tried to tell him what to do. “When the time is right.”
“Don’t take too long, Brandon. Women don’t like to be kept waiting.” She picked up the telephone book. “I’ll order a couple pizzas and pick them up when I’m in town.”
“Thanks, Mom. Oh, and a birthday cake? Her birthday was sometime while we were out there and she never told me. Chocolate.”
Barbara nodded at him as she started placing the order.
~*~*~
Isabella leaned back in the massive bathtub, her eyes closed, the warmth of the water soaking into her all the way to her neck. She’d scrubbed her hair, put gobs of conditioner in, and then scoured her skin clean with the rose-scented soap from the soap holder and a big loofah pad. She should have felt marvelous. She didn’t.
Barbara was the kind of woman she would have chosen as her own mother. Sweet, pretty—not that looks mattered, but it was nice. And she loved Brandon with all her heart. Just as Isabella did.
Her eyes fluttered open when a cool draft wafted through the room. Brandon stood just inside the door, smiling at her with that sweet, sexy, lopsided smile of his. The one that made her heart ache and her tummy flip-flop. He shut the door behind him and began peeling off his clothes. First the gray flannel shirt, then the black T-shirt, the same one he’d been wearing when she’d fished him out of the lake. Next came his socks and jeans. He’d discarded his hiking boots elsewhere. Then he pushed his snug fitting briefs down his long, muscular legs and stepped out of them.
“Mom’s gone,” he said as he stepped toward the tub. “Takes her at least an hour to do the shopping, and then she’ll pick up dinner.”
“Uh-huh,” Isabella said with a welcoming smile. God, did she love this man.
“Mind if I join you?”
She scooted up against the back of the tub, which was half again the size of a normal bathtub, and tucked her knees to her chest to give him room. He stepped in and sat down, hissing a soft curse at the hot water. With him in there, the water rose to her chin, nearly to the edge of the tub.
He dunked his head under the water and pushed his fingers through his hair when he resurfaced. “Come here,” he said in the husky tone of voice that meant he was about to make her feel really, really good. He wrapped his hands around her legs and pulled her toward him until she straddled his thighs.
“She’d probably have those palpitations if she came in now,” Isabella said as she wound her arms around his neck. “What if she forgot her purse or something?”
Brandon shook his head. “I don’t care. I want you. Now.” He pulled her hard against him and kissed her deep, his tongue sweeping into her mouth. She melted like caramel in the sun. His hands cupped her bottom and teased her sensitive flesh. His whiskers scraped her skin, exciting her even more. She nibbled on his bottom lip, flicked her tongue over it. He growled. She laughed. He lifted her and brought her down on him in one hard, deep thrust. Their mingled groans and splashing water echoed through the quiet room.
“You are so beautiful, baby,” he whispered against her ear before pulling her lobe between his teeth. A shimmer of pleasure traveled from her ear downward, leaving a tingly trail along her nerve endings.
She wrapped her legs around his hips, laid her head on his shoulder, and held him tight as they slowly rocked in the steamy bath. She wanted to stay this way forever. Locked together. Just the two of them. A quiet kind of pleasure that was slow, warm, so very tender.
Brandon trailed his fingers up her sides to cup her breasts. His thumbs skimmed between their bodies, over her hard, sensitive nipples. She sighed and tightened around him. His hands were magic. The simplest touch could make her shiver. His teeth nipped her shoulder, his whiskers tickled, making her skin even more sensitized than it already was.
The pleasure built inside her, preparing to burst. She wanted it to last, though. She wanted to stay locked with Brandon forever. She squeezed her eyes shut and clung to him.
He slid his hand between their bodies and found that spot. She shook from trying to control her body’s need for release. She couldn’t breathe. She could only feel. Slowly, the climax built. Her body refused to be held back any longer. Squeezing her legs around his hips, her head on his shoulder, arms tight about him, streamers of pleasure coursed through her body, crashing again and again like waves to the shore. Brandon’s husky groan filled the room, and his fingers tightened on her hips as he held her hard against his body while he pulsed deep within her.
Leaning back against the tub, Brandon sucked in deep breaths while he stroked her back with gentle fingertips. She kissed his shoulder then laid her head back down. Little trailing spasms echoed inside her, and Brandon’s sweet, unintentional response to them kept them alive. Their bodies were made for each other, so responsive to the other’s needs and desires. Isabella knew she’d never find this with any other man. Brandon was the only one she’d ever truly love.
“Do you have any idea,” Brandon said softly, “just how amazing you are?”
“Hmpf. I was just trying to take a nice, peaceful bath.”
She felt his deep rumbling chuckle as if it were part of her. It was part of her. He’d taken part of her soul. “You’re such a brat.”
“Yeah, you keep reminding me of that.” She liked the teasing almost as much as she liked the feel of him inside her. Another difference between Brandon and her ex-husband. There had been no teasing, no talking, no sharing in bed.
She leaned back and looked at him, memorizing his features. She touched his jaw, brushed a stray lock of hair off his forehead, fingered his earring.
“Yeah, yeah, I need a shave, my hair’s too long, and I should lose the earring,” he said with a mocking smile.
“No, I never said that,” Isabella smiled. “I love your hair. I love having it in my hands. And your earring and two day growth gives you that—” She grinned. “—bad boy aura.”
He raised an eyebrow, a perfect eyebrow, not to thick, not too thin, beautifully arched over those amazing dark chocolate eyes. “I didn’t realize you were into bad boys.”
“Hmm, neither did I.”
Brandon reached over his head to a small shelf and pulled down a bottle of shampoo. “Wash my hair for me?” he asked.
She could only smile and hope he didn’t notice the telltale signs of tears forming in her eyes. One more memory made. One more to take with her.
~*~*~
They were just stepping from Brandon’s room where they’d dressed when the front door opened and his mom came in with two extra large pizza boxes and a six-pack of beer. “Someone ordered extra anchovies and green peppers?” she asked.
Bella rolled her eyes, and Brandon laughed. He took the food and beer from his mom and carried it into the living room where he deposited it on the coffee table. Bella looked so sweet in his clothes. An old, soft, royal blue T-shirt with a faded University of Alaska logo on it, and a pair of his boxer shorts, held onto her tiny waist with a safety pin.
“Feeling better, honey?” Barbara asked.
“I’m fine, Mom,” he answered.
Barbara chuckled. “I was talking to Isabella, not you.”
Bella smiled. A real smile, one that reached her eyes and melted his heart. “Yes, ma’am, I’m fine. That bathtub is wonderful.”
Brandon laughed as the color rose in Bella’s cheeks. She smacked his arm. His mom gave him “the eye” before she went into the kitchen to get plates.
“Wonderful, huh?” Brandon asked as he wrapped his arms around Bella.
“You need a good whipping,” she whispered.
“Mmm sounds good. I’ll get out the whips and handcuffs after Mom goes to bed.” Bella’s eyes widened and her blush deepened. “Oh, so I see that thought isn’t totally repulsive to you.”
“Have you...would you... I mean...”
/> Brandon laughed. She was too precious. With his lips against hers, he whispered, “Anything you want, baby. Anything. Anytime. Anywhere.”
“Isn’t it bad enough that I can guess what you two were up to while I was gone? You could at least pretend your mother is in the room.”
Bella groaned and buried her face against his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Wilks.”
And he laughed again.
His mom slapped his shoulder playfully and narrowed her eyes. “It’s Barbara, Isabella, or Mom. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Come on and eat while it’s hot,” Barbara said around a chuckle as she opened the first box of pizza.
The fragrant steam that rose from the extra large, totally loaded pizza, made Bella’s stomach growl. “And not one blasted anchovy in sight.”
After they’d all eaten their fill, Isabella cuddled on the sofa with Brandon as they finished their beer. Half reclined on him, his arm around her waist, she felt as if she belonged right here. Home. Like no place she’d ever been. Barbara was in the kitchen washing the few dishes they’d used, having declined any offer of help saying she could manage quicker alone.
“There’s definitely something to be said about hot water, hot pizza and cold beer to make me love civilization,” Brandon commented as he idly stroked her side with his fingertips.
“Mmm, yeah. Especially the hot water.”
“You’re back to that, are you?” She could hear the laughter in his voice. She loved it. Since the very beginning, he’d always been quick with a joke and a smile.
“I was referring to clean hair and skin that doesn’t smell like bug dope.”
“Sure you were, babe. Sure you were.”
As he raised his beer bottle to his lips, she elbowed him in the ribs. His teeth tapped against the glass.
“You really are trying to injure me, aren’t you? If you’re not cracking my skull open, you’re trying to dislodge my teeth.”
“Hey, Mom, Brandon’s whining again,” Isabella called toward the kitchen before she realized what she’d said. It had just come out. Her breath caught for an instant as a horrible sense of loss washed over her.
“Yeah, he’s really good at whining. You should try saying ‘no’ to him sometime. You’ll never hear the end of it.”
Brandon laughed, the motion jarring Isabella back into the present. “She can’t say no to me, Mom. She’s tried, believe me.”
“When the honeymoon is over...” Barbara warned.
Isabella tried to relax again. To get back that soft warm glow she’d been feeling. Just for tonight. Just take it and pretend it’s all real. Just for tonight.
Brandon rubbed his chin on her hair, something he seemed to enjoy doing, and did a lot. “The honeymoon will never be over,” he said softly as he kissed her temple. “I won’t let it.”
“Brandon,” Barbara called from the kitchen. “Go out to the car and bring in the box that’s on the front seat.”
“Al-l-l righ-ht,” he groaned as if he were a spoiled child rather than a grown man. She supposed it didn’t matter how old a child was, they were always the child.
Isabella heard Brandon come back in through the kitchen door, and he and his mother spoke in low tones. Leaning her head back on the sofa and sighing, she stole a quick glance at the clock over the fireplace. In less than nine hours she’d be on a plane.
“Happy Birthday to you... Happy Birthday...”
Isabella sat up. Brandon and Barbara came into the living room singing to her, carrying a cake loaded with candles. Isabella burst into tears and covered her face.
She’d not told Brandon when her birthday had come and gone. She didn’t want the reminder of what couldn’t be.
Brandon sat down next to her and pulled her into his arms as he finished the song, then planted a big, wet kiss on her cheek. “Stop the tears, love. Make a wish and blow out your candles.”
Isabella hugged him and then sent a watery smile toward Barbara who’d taken her seat in the recliner at the end of the coffee table. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“Make a wish,” Brandon whispered as he nuzzled her ear.
“Wait, wait!” Barbara jumped up from her chair and hurried into the kitchen. She returned with a small digital camera. “All right, now.” She held it up to look through the viewfinder.
Isabella placed her hand over her middle and wished for the one thing she knew she could never have. Then she leaned forward and blew out all the candles in one big breath. The flash on Barbara’s camera went off, and Brandon hugged her tight.
~*~*~
Brandon awoke to the delicious aroma of fresh brewed coffee. He rolled over and reached for Bella, but the bed was cold. He pulled her pillow into his arms and breathed in her flowery scent still clinging to it. He felt good. So alive.
He had a lot to do today and hoped Bella would go with him. He needed to talk to the manager of place he’d rented the plane from, fill out the necessary forms, and figure out what was to be done about it. The plane, thankfully, was fully insured. And the owner was a friend, his flight instructor from when he’d been seventeen and wanted nothing more in life than to complete his first solo flight.
He needed to call the Detroit office and talk to Cal, his supervisor, and then call his partner. He was sure Jared had already been told about his resignation, but he wanted to speak to him in person. And he’d ask Jared to clean out his place for him and ship him the few odds and ends he wanted.
Then he’d call Sheila and Case and tell them all about his Alaskan adventure with his little redheaded wood sprite. Brandon grinned. Maybe that would be their first trip before they started worrying about jobs. He’d take Bella down to Seattle to meet Sheila and the McCormicks. Yeah, that would be fun.
Brandon sat up and stretched. He hoped it was his mom’s coffee he smelled and not Bella’s. She could make amazing meals out of scraps, but her coffee would choke a bear. He grabbed a pair of jeans out of the laundry basket on the floor. Bella must have folded everything this morning. He pulled them on and fastened them before heading for the kitchen. His mom was at the counter.
“Where’s Bella?” he asked as he absently scratched his chest.
“Sit down, son,” she said as she handed him a steaming mug of coffee.
He took a sip and smiled. Definitely not Bella’s brew. Then he spotted the folded piece of notebook paper on the table, his name written across it in Bella’s smooth scrawl. He slowly lowered himself into a chair, and his mom sat down across from him. Mom wasn’t smiling at him. Worry wrinkled her normally smooth complexion.
“Where is she?” he asked again, this time a feeling of... He didn’t know what he felt, but it was an awful feeling that spread through him.
Barbara pushed the note over to him. “I’m sorry, honey,” she said softly.
Brandon tried swallowing the lump growing in his throat, but it wouldn’t budge. He reached for the paper.
My Dearest Brandon,
Please don’t hate me.
I know that this is for the best.
I can’t give you the family you deserve. You need to find a woman who can give you as much as you give to her. She’ll be the luckiest woman in the world. I am just happy I had you for a short time in our hideaway.
Your words of love will stay with me forever.
I’m off to find my garden now. Wish me luck.
I’ll always think of you when I smell rain or hear the chatter of squirrels in the trees, or when a ripe, tart blueberry bursts on my tongue.
Forgive me, Brandon.
Love always,
Bella
Brandon crumpled the paper in his fist as a thousand shards of glass cut deep into his heart.
Chapter Fifteen
January 15th
Four months later
Isabella stared at the doctor, speechless. It couldn’t be. Not now. Not after all this time. Not with all the problems she and Bart had trying to con
ceive. “You’re sure?”
Dr. Sweeny, her elderly face softening into a gentle smile, nodded. “Everything looks good, Ms. Hammond. I’d say you are at least four months along, maybe closer to four and a half. Would you like to know if it’s a boy or girl?”
Isabella’s heart clenched so hard she thought she might cry from the pain of it. “You can tell?” she said, her voice sounding weak, desperate.
“Yes.” Dr. Sweeny tore a piece of paper from the little printer below the black and white monitor and handed it to Isabella. “That’s your baby.”
Isabella’s hand shook as she took the paper from the doctor. Her baby. Brandon’s baby.
Oh dear God. Brandon!
The tears came without warning, and she could do nothing to stop them. She’d tried so desperately to put the man out of her mind for good. These past months she’d kept herself in an unending whirlwind of activity for the simple purpose of not letting herself have any spare time on her hands. Time she would have devoted to thoughts of Brandon.
“And...and the baby is healthy?” Isabella asked as she stared at the picture of the tiny being that was nestled inside her. “I’ve been so tired. So...oh! What if I hurt my baby?”
Dr. Sweeny placed a warm, reassuring hand on Isabella’s shoulder. “The baby looks very healthy. Your weight is perfect, and there’s a lot of motion in that little guy. Arms, legs, fingers.” The doctor pointed out each little limb to Isabella on the picture. “Now, we need to get you on some prenatal vitamins, check your iron levels, have your blood sugar levels tested, and do you know the father’s blood type?”
“B negative,” Isabella responded. It had been listed on his organ donor card. “Just like me.”
“Well, that’s good, then. The Rh factor isn’t a problem.” Dr. Sweeny picked up her chart and began making notations. “I’d like you to come to the lab first thing Monday morning for the blood tests. You’ll need to fast for twelve hours.”
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