Stephanie thought she understood. Sympathetically she said, “Because of the friends you lost?”
“That, too.” He grinned. “But the truth is, my nemesis from high school days is in this race, too, and he’s an overconfident jerk. I want to clean his clock.”
Laughing, she said, “I’ll do everything in my power not to interfere with your race. I promise.” In fact, she’d probably put off delivery—and labor—as long as humanly possible.
“Thanks, Twigs. I knew you’d understand.”
Maureen interrupted their conversation with a lecture on the various stages of labor, none of which sounded like fun to Danny. Then she had them move to the pillows on the floor in the middle of the room to practice relaxation exercises.
He checked the pager hooked to his belt. For the first time in his life, he wished for a huge fire to break out. Five alarms would just about do it.
No such luck, he thought as Stephanie knelt on all fours and he began to rub her back. Damn, it was going to be a long night. Thank God he had to return to the station after this instead of taking Stephanie home. The memory of what had happened after their last class created an all too familiar image in his mind.
Chapter Eleven
Stephanie handed Danny her magenta-and-goldenrod-swirled portfolio but it slipped from her fingers before he could take it. She’d spied him cooling off after one of his runs and had enticed him into the house to see the home office she’d spent the past two weeks setting up in the corner of her bedroom.
“I swear I’ve dropped more stuff in the past eight months than I have in my entire life,” she complained as he knelt to pick up the binder. Sweat dampened his hair to a dark brown and veed down his T-shirt both front and back, creating a macho image. Sexy, too. Intriguingly so, given her high hormonal state.
“Didn’t I see something about clumsiness in the pregnancy book?”
“The fact that being all thumbs is a symptom of pregnancy didn’t help my mother’s favorite crystal vase the other day when I dropped it.”
“That’s too bad.” He flipped through the portfolio and smiled. “Hey, these are good.”
“Of course. I’m a very talented, creative individual.” Cockily she raised her chin a notch.
“And only slightly egotistical.”
“Hmph. A healthy self-esteem is a necessary criteria for success in this business.” She didn’t take offense at his remark because she could see he was impressed with her work. SG and Associates, Multimedia Images, Stephanie Gray, President was a reality, including a business ID number. Now all she needed was to land a contract and produce some income to offset her substantial expenses.
“So who are these associates you’re talking about?” he asked, checking out her stationery.
“The baby. I figure she and I will be spending a lot of time together in this office. I thought she deserved to be included on the letterhead.” As though the baby knew she was being talked about, she stretched and shoved against Stephanie’s rib cage. Stephanie winced, rubbing her hand where she felt the pressure. “Besides, it makes me seem like a big agency instead of just me and a computer mouse in my pocket.”
“You okay?” Concern furrowed his brow.
“Lately the baby has been trying to work her way outside my belly by shoving my ribs apart and exiting that direction. She hasn’t quite figured out she’s supposed to aim south, not west.”
He laughed. “She’ll get the idea. It won’t be long now.”
“In some ways, it can’t be soon enough to suit me. I’m tired of looking like a giant balloon in the Thanksgiving Day parade.”
Unexpectedly he laid his hand on her stomach, the heat of his palm instantly penetrating through her blouse. She met his gaze and felt a warmth there, too.
“You look beautiful just the way you are, Stephanie. Like a Madonna in waiting.”
A flush of pleasure surged through her as he held her gaze, his eyes darkening to navy. Except for the hum of her computer, the room grew silent, the air heavy with the press of anticipation. Breath lodged in her lungs, carrying with it his subtly masculine scent, both rich and primal. At her core, she reacted in an elemental way.
She wanted him to make love to her again.
As awkward as her body felt, she’d never been more aware of every inch of her skin, never more sensitive to the lightest movement of air over her flesh. It was as though her nerve endings were closer than ever to the surface, and they ached for his touch. His caress.
The temptation to lean forward, to let their bodies collide in a sensual encounter of swollen breasts and stretched belly against the hard expanse of his chest and ribbed abdomen was nearly irresistible. The urge to feel his arms surround her converged with her need for his mouth to cover hers. To taste his flavor again.
Behind her, the bed where she’d dreamed of him all through her adolescent years mocked her. It was there that he’d made love to her a thousand times in her imagination and each time she had wanted more. Had wanted the steel-velvet length of him to fill her as no other man could.
A low moan escaped her throat.
His hand slid up her rib cage, his thumb a breath away from the swell of her breast. “Still friends, right?”
A trembling started deep inside and her gaze drifted to his lips. “Buddies. Right.”
“I suppose friends—if they were real close friends—might kiss once in a while.”
“Guy and girl friends.”
“That’s pretty much what I meant.” He dipped his head toward hers, and the sweetness of his breath washed over her heated cheeks.
She reached up toward him. “I was kind of hoping that’s what you had in mind.”
His taste was the vibrant red and orange of every sunset she remembered, his flavor as sharp and clear as a spring morning. As his tongue stroked against hers, she rediscovered his artistry, his skill at drawing from a woman the depth of her need. She surrendered to his mastery.
Curling her fingers around the back of his neck, she drew herself closer, combing through the hair at his nape, etching the healing scar at the curve of his T-shirt and relishing the way he sculpted himself to accommodate her shape. Their concentric curves echoed each other, harmonizing like parentheses tucked one against the other.
“Stephanie?” Breathing hard, he broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers. “I’m all sweaty.”
“I know.” Her breathing was as uneven as his.
“I probably smell.”
“I like how you smell. That’s probably ’cause you’re the guy and I’m the girl.”
“You’re eight months pregnant.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“We can’t—”
“The book says we can, if we want to.”
“I’d be afraid—”
“I asked my doctor. She said it’s okay but she also suggested other ways—”
Uttering an oath that was both sweet and intense, he claimed her mouth again. She cherished the moment, his ardent attack on her senses. She reeled under his sensual assault, celebrating her womanhood and his potent masculinity.
He gathered the hem of her blouse upward until he found the turgid nubs of her breasts. The brush of his thumbs across the rigid tips sent a white-hot surge of desire through her, making her moan his name.
“Beautiful,” he murmured before taking the nipple in his mouth.
Her adolescent fantasies paled beside the reality of Danny loving her. The bed was the same, the mattress giving beneath their combined weight as she had imagined, the sheets as cool as she remembered them.
But he was a different man. More gentle. More in control. More considerate of her needs, taking his time, making her impatient for the explosive release that she knew was only moments away.
He dragged moist kisses across her belly creating rivers of fire on her sensitive skin. Spreading her legs, he kissed the inside of her thighs, first one side and then the other.
On a cry, she arched up to him. �
�Danny, please—”
“Easy, Twigs. I don’t want to hurt you.”
The heat spiraled to the apex of her thighs. She buried her fingers in his hair and called his name again.
A rough sound came from deep in Danny’s throat and he exerted all of his willpower not to take Stephanie right then. He dared not sheath himself in her welcoming flesh. She could say it was safe but he’d never forgive himself if he hurt her in any way. Or the baby.
But he could pleasure her and that would satisfy him beyond all measure.
He tasted her, and her soft cries grew more urgent. She was like silk, all hot and damp to his touch. She writhed back and forth, but he held her tight while he pleasured her more. She grabbed the sheets, fisting them in her hands as she lifted her hips to him again.
“Danny!” Her explosive release shook her body and the aftereffects rippled through him.
Catching his breath, trying to slow his wildly beating heart, he rested his head on her belly. Gently he stroked the satin curve of her stomach and down her thigh.
“You’re not going to stop now, are you?” she asked.
A shuddering sigh racked his body. “Yep. I don’t care what that book says or your doctor, you’re too far along—”
“Daniel Sullivan, I know darn well you’ll never let me live it down if you satisfied me and I didn’t do the same for you.”
He lifted his head. “I’m okay with it. Really.”
“Oh, no, you don’t, buster.” She shoved him onto his back. Her eyes glittered with mirth and determination. “I’m going to have my way with you one way or the other, and you’re going to enjoy every darn minute of it.”
“Stephanie, you don’t have to—”
Too late. She was already kissing him in the most intimate way possible. No amount of willpower would have been strong enough to make him shove her away. How could he have not known years ago what a sensual woman Stephanie was? Or maybe he’d sensed it and that was the reason he’d kept his distance. He didn’t know the answer. For the moment, the sweet friction of her lips and tongue was all he could think about.
Then her hand replaced her mouth, the friction just as sweet and smooth, and he couldn’t think at all as his breathing grew harsher. The pulsing started deep inside and erupted like a banked fire sped out of control when oxygen fed the flames.
Numb and sated, he lay there for a long time, Stephanie’s head resting on his chest. Friends. More than that, he realized, but he still wasn’t sure how to define their relationship.
Nor did he know what he could offer to Stephanie without the risk of hurting her as badly as his mother had suffered by his father’s desertion.
More than once Danny’s mother had said he looked much like his father. He’d always feared he was like the man in other ways, too—unable to commit to a woman he loved. Twice in his life he’d thought he was in love—once in high school and once in Idaho. In each case he’d awakened one morning in a panic, claustrophobic at the idea of spending the rest of his life tied to the same woman.
Like his father had echoed in his head.
God, he couldn’t do that to her.
Already betrayed once by a man, Stephanie deserved better than that.
Vaguely he became aware of a car arriving at the house followed by footsteps on the driveway and then the back door opening.
“Stephanie, honey! I’m home.”
At the sound of her father’s voice, she shot off the bed. So did Danny. Frantically he scooped up his running shorts, tugged them on, and grabbed for his T-shirt. The still-sweaty shirt stuck to his skin as he tried to pull it on over his head with one hand while at the same time he stuck his feet into his cross-training shoes. He’d just righted himself when Harlan Gray appeared in the doorway.
“Oh, hi, Danny. I didn’t know you were here.”
Beaded sweat formed on Danny’s forehead. In about two seconds he’d be the target of a firing squad—or a shotgun. “Yes, sir. Stephanie was showing me her new office.”
“Nice setup she’s got, isn’t it?”
In a jerky movement, Stephanie finger combed her short hair and smoothed down her blouse. “You’re home early.” Her smile was a little too bright, her voice too high pitched. Her cheeks flamed with color, matching her vibrant red-and-yellow blouse.
The chief’s gaze touched on his daughter and her disheveled appearance, then slid to the mussed bedclothes and rumpled sheets.
“Yes, well, I had a meeting in the north end of town and thought I’d drop by to have lunch with you.”
Danny cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll be on my way—”
“Don’t leave on my account, son. I’ll, uh, just fix myself a cup of coffee and a sandwich.”
“I’ll be right with you, Dad.”
“No need. You carry on with whatever—” He made a vague gesture with his hand. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”
As soon as Harlan left the room, Stephanie sat down heavily on the end of the bed. In a hoarse whisper, she said, “I can’t believe my father practically caught us in the act.”
“I’m sorry, Stephanie. God, I’m really sorry.” He speared the fingers of both hands through his hair. “I’ll tell your dad it was all my fault. I took advantage of you.”
Her head snapped up. Her lips were swollen from his kisses, her cheeks still red from both embarrassment and the brush of his whiskers. “You’ll do no such thing. What we did was consensual on all counts—unless I was the one taking advantage of you.”
His lips quirked into a smile. “Face it, I’m a weak guy.”
Taking his hand, she ran his knuckles along her cheek. “You’d better go now, hotshot, before I take advantage of you again with my dad right outside the door.”
“Probably wouldn’t be a good career advancement move on my part.” Bending over, he kissed her lightly on the lips. He was weak when it came to Stephanie. He wasn’t sure how that had happened or when. She used to be such a pesky kid, always under foot. Now he simply knew, eight months pregnant or not, he couldn’t resist her. “See you tomorrow morning for our walk?”
She nodded and patted her tummy. “We’ll be ready.”
A WEEK LATER, Danny and Jay Tolliver were using push brooms to sweep up the debris they’d brought down while breaking through a ceiling to suppress an attic fire started by frayed electrical wiring. Soggy plaster covered the floor in the damaged kitchen. If the crew hadn’t protected the furniture with a salvage cover, the damage would have been worse.
“So how’s your wife’s pregnancy coming along?” Danny asked idly, although his question wasn’t at all casual. He kept wondering if his sexual attraction to Stephanie was abnormal, her being so far along in her pregnancy. But that wasn’t something you could outright ask, not even in the childbirthing class. Nor could he bring himself to discuss other troubling thoughts he’d been having in a public arena.
“She’s good. She complains she’s getting as big as a house, of course, but she’s healthy and that’s all that counts.”
“Guess being, uh, large like that can turn a guy off, huh?”
“Are you kidding? Kim’s never been more sexy. It’s like we’re on our honeymoon again, except she’s still working nights at the radio station.” Jay shot him a grin that had once made him a big money winner at the annual hospital bachelor auction supporting the burn unit.
Leaning on his broom, Danny watched Jay work for a minute. “Are you scared?”
“Scared? Of what?”
“Of something going wrong with the delivery, something bad happening to Kim.”
“Oh, that. I’m not just scared, Sullivan. I’m terrified.” He stopped sweeping, too, and assumed the same lazy pose of leaning on his broom that Danny had chosen. “But you know what’s really got me waking up in the middle of the night?”
Danny shook his head. It couldn’t be much worse than his own worries over Stephanie, and the two of them weren’t even married.
“That I won’t be a go
od enough father. That I’ll blow it like my old man did. That’s what gives me nightmares.”
“So how do you know you will be okay?”
“I guess you have to decide to give it your best shot and let the cards fall where they will. Kim keeps telling me there’s never been a perfect parent in the whole history of mankind so we shouldn’t beat ourselves up over it. We’ll make mistakes but as long as the little guy knows we love him, everything will come out okay.”
“You’re having a boy, huh?”
“Yeah. Kim wants him to look just like me.”
“With your ugly puss? You’re telling me she’d wish that on some poor little kid?”
“Hey, what can I say? She loves me.” With a satisfied grin, he went back to pushing his broom.
Danny envied Jay his confidence. He made having a baby and parenthood sound so damn simple. And maybe it was when the couple was married and loved each other.
Grabbing a shovel, Danny scooped up some of the debris and tossed it out the back door to a collection spot. He wasn’t in the same position as Jay. He and Stephanie weren’t married. He wasn’t even sure how he felt about her, except that he had trouble staying away from her and his dreams about her were getting downright X-rated. And he didn’t have a clue how she felt about him. She wasn’t repulsed but she sure hadn’t dropped any hints about marriage. At least none that he had heard.
Meanwhile, he’d been mentally toying with the notion that under different circumstances, if the timing had been different, the baby Stephanie was carrying could have been his.
That’s where things got a little tricky. Because lately he’d been thinking that would be a damn good idea.
TWO WEEKS OF PHONE CALLS, pounding the pavement and making presentations, and she’d finally done it. She had her first advertising contract. She’d talked Boutique Bagels into a summer-sandwich-special to boost their lunchtime volume. There would be print ads and local radio spots to promote the featured items. In contrast to the media packages she’d set in motion at Edgar’s firm, this contract was small potatoes.
But it was a beginning.
With Courage and Commitment Page 14