by Knupp, Amy
“You sure this thing can hold two?” she asked, frowning. “And a half?”
“I’ve never tried sharing it, but yeah, I’m sure.” He glanced toward her middle. “And I don’t think that qualifies as a half yet. I can hardly tell you’re pregnant.” Thank God. He wasn’t looking forward to the day when Carey presented a visual reminder his cousin had slept with her. Although maybe it would keep his libido in check.
She steadied the hammock with her hands first, then backed up slowly until she was sitting. They swung back and forth, and she held on for dear life.
“Lie down and relax.”
The emotions of the past few hours had exhausted him. He was ready to vegetate and escape from his thoughts. And yes, enjoy Carey’s company. She’d been exactly what he’d needed tonight.
Her light hair stood out in the darkness, and he could see her studying his face. Finally, she stretched her legs out and settled in, lying on her side, turned toward him. Her face was next to his, inches away.
His heart pounded with awareness, destroying the peacefulness of the moment.
Her body fell into his, and her sweet scent enveloped him. Unwelcome desire surged through his veins, and he realized he’d been wrong to think he could relax with her at his side.
Her eyes were closed, as if she was unaware of the effect she had on him. As if she trusted him completely.
Trusting him at this exact moment was not particularly wise.
On one level, lying so close to Carey felt natural. They knew each other well, had been in each other’s lives almost forever. He was well acquainted with her annoying habits and she with his. He knew secrets she kept from the rest of the world. He could even vaguely recall what it’d been like to kiss her in ninth grade.
But she was no longer an inexperienced teenager. Her nearness sent his pulse skyrocketing in anticipation and nervousness, like she was completely new to him. Like he was an adolescent on his first date.
A haze of lust had settled over him the second her body pressed into his. He could think of nothing but exploring every inch of Carey, her soft curves, her smooth flesh. He ached to hold her.
But he would never fit into this ready-made family.
He wanted to forget all the ramifications and kiss her till she screamed for mercy—here, now, with no thought to the future.
His arms were crossed over his abdomen, and it took every ounce of restraint he could summon not to touch her. He was relieved her eyes were closed, because his desire was hard to miss. Shifting minutely, he didn’t want to disturb her but he needed relief from the confinement of his jeans.
He focused intently on the leaves above as they fluttered in the breeze. He sucked in a deep breath. Listened to the low droning of a bullfrog from the pond across the field. The only other sound was Carey’s soft, steady breathing. Damn the woman. She’d fallen asleep practically on top of him.
CAREY WOKE UP to discover her arm draped across Devin’s chest. Instantly, her entire body was alert.
He was asleep. His solid chest rose and fell beneath her hand, and she could feel his heart beat. She had a close-up view of the stubble on his face. What would happen if she touched it? What would he do if she climbed on top of him? If she kissed his slightly parted lips? If she…
She squeezed her eyes shut.
Forcing her concentration to anything other than the man who lay next to her, she tuned into the sounds of the late-spring night.
Crickets filled the darkness with their familiar, lulling melody. The breeze had chilled since they’d come outside, but Devin’s body and the heat from the baby kept her plenty warm enough. Her wandering thoughts had nearly caused her to break out in a sweat.
She became aware of an intense need to pee. The baby couldn’t be bigger than a grapefruit, but she would swear a watermelon was bearing down on her bladder most of the time.
It was one thing to wake up four times a night and stumble ten feet to the toilet, but it was quite another to have to unravel herself from Devin and an unstable net, tear across a yard the size of a football field and barge into a kind old man’s house in the middle of the night. Her body would have to wait.
What would it be like if Devin was hers? If she could feel those arms around her whenever she needed them? Touch him when she felt the urge, kiss him, pull his clothes off, love him? Be loved by him?
Making love with him would be magical, she somehow knew that implicitly. She knew him better than just about anyone, but to discover him intimately, to see his face in the middle of passion, to hear his husky voice whisper as he moved over her….
Dammit. Bathroom. Now.
The question was how to get off the hammock gracefully?
Forget gracefully, just how was she supposed to do this?
There was no way she could swing her legs forward—Devin was in the way. She tried to turn over onto her stomach, but she couldn’t get enough of a grip on anything to raise herself. Rolling on her back toward the edge, she finally swung her feet to the ground and pushed herself clumsily to a standing position. Somewhere along the line she’d miscalculated though, because the hammock didn’t right itself once she was off. Instead, Devin rolled off and hit the ground.
A string of obscenities flew out of his mouth, his voice groggy from sleep, but his temper very much awake. She tried hard not to smile.
“I’m really sorry, Dev. I have to pee.”
He glared up at her, and she pursed her lips on a laugh.
“Really have to pee.” She sprinted toward the house, chuckling with every step. He’d have to wait to scream at her.
As she washed her hands in the bathroom, still amused by the look on Devin’s face, she heard a strange noise coming from somewhere in the house. She dried her hands quickly, then followed the sound toward the bedrooms.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
IT DIDN’T take long to figure out the noise was Devin’s grandpa having some kind of coughing fit. She’d never been in any of the bedrooms before, but she had no trouble finding his, and she stood outside the closed door, unsure of whether to barge in on the old man.
“Gramps?”
Even if he wanted to answer, he didn’t stop coughing long enough. Concern propelled her through the door. Light from the hallway illuminated the room enough that she could see him in bed. He was half sitting up, leaning on his elbow, coughing so hard she thought he might pop a vein. Having no idea what else to do, she helped him sit upright. The coughing slowed a bit, but he still couldn’t talk.
“Are you okay?” she asked. Stupid question.
But he nodded, continuing to hack.
She grabbed a glass of lukewarm water from his nightstand and offered it to him, but he shook his head.
At that moment, Devin rushed in. “What’s going on?”
“I heard him coughing from the bathroom.”
She stood and gladly let Devin take over, hoping he knew how to handle it.
Apparently he didn’t, because she could see in the dim light he looked as panicked as she felt. He patted his grandpa’s back and asked him if he wanted a drink, to which the old man shook his head again.
“Should I call an ambulance?” he asked.
Another shake of the head.
“What do I do?” Devin’s voice had risen.
Gramps lifted his index finger, signaling Devin to wait.
After a couple more long minutes, his coughing slowed, even if he was obviously still short of breath. He turned up the setting on his oxygen tank.
“I’m going to call your doctor,” Devin told him.
“No.” Sputter. Wheeze. “Happens…” hack “…sometimes.”
“This has happened before?”
His grandpa cleared his throat loudly and leaned back against the headboard, exhausted.
“I’m taking you to the doctor tomorrow,” Devin said. “Unless you need to go tonight.”
Gramps shook his head. “It’s okay. I just need…a couple of pillows.”
“Tha
t didn’t sound okay, Gramps.”
“Sorry you had to witness it.”
“Sorry, hell. We’re going in tomorrow. No arguments.”
His grandpa slumped against the pillow Devin propped behind him.
“Where are some extra pillows?” Carey asked.
He coughed again, but not as violently. “Living room.”
She rushed off to find them. As she approached the bedroom again, she heard them bickering about whether or not he needed medical attention. They paused when she appeared with the pillows, and Devin pulled his grandpa away from the headboard to squeeze them behind him.
“Anything else I can do?” Carey asked, wanting to escape the tension in the room now that Devin’s grandpa was over the spell.
“Not unless you can knock some sense into him,” Devin muttered.
“I’ll wait in the living room then,” she said, uncomfortable. “Holler if you need something.”
She settled into a lumpy, worn cushion on one of a pair of ancient love seats, trying to calm herself.
After about five minutes, Devin emerged from the hallway. “He’s asleep.”
“He must have worn himself out. What now?”
“I’m not leaving him alone.” He collapsed on the other love seat. “You can take my truck and go if you want.”
“And how would you get him to the doctor in the morning?”
He appeared to consider the options.
“I’ll stay, too, Dev. I’m too tired to drive home anyway.”
“That’s fine.” He crossed his legs and ran his hand through his hair. “We’ll have to sleep on the bunks.”
“Bunks?”
“There’s only one spare usable bedroom. The others are used as an office and for storage.”
She squashed the tremor of desire that pulsed deep in her middle.
They’d spent the night at each other’s houses plenty of times. But they’d always slept in separate rooms. And she hadn’t been ensconced in endless daydreams about him.
“Come on. I’ll show you,” he said, standing.
When she got up, he touched the small of her back, causing her to jump in surprise.
“It’s the room my cousin Landon and I used to share during the summer. Not very big, but it’ll do.” He led her past his grandfather’s room to a small room at the end of the hallway. It was decorated in a nautical theme suitable for young boys.
“Gramps would invite all of the cousins out during the summer from the time I was about ten. Started after he retired.” Devin looked thoughtful for a moment. “Jerod was always too busy working at the station, and his younger sisters camped out with sleeping bags in the living room. Landon and I used to play pirate ship on these beds,” he said. “We argued over who got to be the lookout guy on the top deck.”
“No argument here. You get the top deck. I’ll have to pee every hour or so.”
He grinned. “That’s a charming little thing I didn’t know about you.”
“It’s the baby,” she said. “It uses my bladder as a trampoline.”
Besides the bunk beds directly in front of her, Carey saw a couple of black beanbag chairs stacked in the corner, a chest of drawers and a chair. Paintings of ships covered the dark blue pinstriped wallpaper.
Devin threw her a white shirt from one of the drawers. “It’s old but it should cover you.”
Pajamas. Great idea. She held up the T-shirt and wondered just how much of her it would hide. Not enough, considering her chest took up a lot more room than it used to, and the bulge in her middle, although everyone else called it small, looked to her as though she’d swallowed a hot air balloon.
“I hate people,” she read from the shirt. “Speaking of charming…”
“My preteen rebel-without-a-clue stage. I usually only wore it around the house, if that makes you feel any better.”
“Much.” She stifled a yawn. “I’m beat. I think I’ll hit the sack.”
“I’ll join you.” He stopped in his tracks. “I mean I’ll go to bed, too. In the top bunk.”
There was an awkward silence for a few seconds before he motioned toward a closed door. “Bathroom’s there. Towels should be under the sink.”
When she went in and shut the door, Devin whipped his clothes off and pulled on an ugly pair of plaid boxers he’d left in the dresser long ago. He climbed up to the top bunk just before Carey came back out. He’d turned the light off, but the one in the bathroom still shone into the room enough so when he looked down he could see her clearly.
Big mistake.
The T-shirt was too small and too thin, leaving nothing to the imagination. His pulse quickened and he grew hard. Again.
She carried her clothes she’d worn to the chair next to the door, bending to set them down, and he was graced with a scintillating glimpse of skimpy white satin panties.
Only Carey could make white seem sinfully enticing.
He rolled away from her and stifled a moan.
“Ready for lights out?” she asked.
Shit, was he. “Yep,” he croaked.
He heard her soft footsteps head back to the bathroom, and then the room was dark. How the hell was he supposed to sleep with his pulse going ninety miles an hour and a hard-on that wouldn’t quit?
He listened to her toss and turn for a while, trying his damnedest not to picture that luscious body moving under the blankets. Finally, she was still.
“Dev?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re really worried about him, aren’t you?”
The subject of his grandpa cooled him a bit. “Yeah.”
“You’re not worrying about the business thing, are you?”
“The business thing?”
“Turning a profit while Gramps is still around to appreciate it. Are you afraid that’s not going to happen?”
He took awhile to answer. “It’s there in the back of my head, but—”
If he lost Gramps, he’d be completely on his own.
“You’re lucky to have him,” she said quietly.
He nodded, a lump in his throat. Here he was, having a hard time fitting in one night a week for the man. He had to try harder.
Devin dreaded bad news from the doctor tomorrow. The coughing fit tonight had scared the hell out of him. Devin had felt like a helpless idiot standing there. He’d been on the verge of yanking out his cell phone and dialing 911.
“Do you think his problem tonight was related to the heart stuff?” Carey asked.
“I’d rather not talk about it. I can hardly hear you, anyway.”
“So come down here and talk for a while. I can’t sleep.”
“I’m not coming down there.”
“I don’t mean in my bed. Get the chair. We used to talk into the early morning all the time. We haven’t done that for ages.”
Back then, they’d been able to discuss their dates, banter about the weaknesses of the other gender, generally give each other a hard time. Easygoing, laid-back sessions.
Now things had changed, if only in his mind.
“I’m tired, Care. And I need to call the doctor early.”
She didn’t respond. The minutes stretched out, and he found himself listening for any move she made, for even breathing to signal she was asleep.
As worn out as he was, he was wide awake.
She let out a deep sigh.
Hell.
He climbed off the end of the bed and grabbed one of the old beanbag chairs he and Landon had used in countless beanbag wars. Throwing it onto the floor next to Carey’s bed, he plopped into it, resigned and fully aware he was asking for trouble. “What do you want to talk about?”
She chuckled. “That tired, huh?”
“It’s impossible to sleep with all the racket you make.”
“I’ve hardly moved a muscle. Are you still twitching from not sitting in your office, working late tonight?”
“Why do you say that?”
“It’s all you do anymore, with the exception o
f the one fishing night.”
“I like my work.”
“You’re obsessed with your work. Wonder why that is.”
He didn’t answer, hoping she’d get the clue and change the subject.
“Gramps seems to think it’s because of your parents, deceased as they may be.”
“Nooo,” he moaned. “I don’t want to play this game.”
“What game?”
“Carey Langford, amateur shrink.”
She laughed, and the sultry sound had his pulse racing once again. “Come on. It’s my favorite.”
He considered the upside of a fifth of whiskey. Too bad he hated the stuff.
“Your parents did a number on you,” she said.
“Doesn’t take a psychology degree to figure that one out.”
“Good thing, since I don’t have one.”
She was quiet for a while and Devin was relieved she’d dropped it. Talking about his parents was a waste of time.
“What happened when they died?” she asked suddenly.
He rolled his head back on the beanbag. “What do you mean, what happened?”
“Something happened. It was shortly after that when you hatched your whole plan to go to school and start a business.”
It was a good thing she was appealing in every other way because right now Carey’s insistent yammering had the same effect as an annoying gnat that wouldn’t stay out of his face.
“What happened was they left almost everything to Jerod and told me I had no future.” He hoped to shock her and end the conversation quickly.
“You…you’re kidding me, Devin.”
He scoffed. “Wish I was.”
“You never said anything…”
He hesitated. “Not something I’m proud of.”
“I knew their death messed you up for a while but I never imagined it was anything like this.”
He’d avoided Carey and Monica as much as possible after his parents’ accident for a reason. He didn’t want their sympathy. It only made it worse.
“I’m over it. It was a good thing in the end.”
“A good thing?”
“Once I got over being ticked off, it opened my eyes. Got me motivated.”
He heard her roll toward him and saw her blond hair fall across her shoulder in the dimness. “I hope I never do anything that awful to my child.”