by Amy Lillard
“It’ll take half that time if you help me.”
She had a point there. “Hand me an apron.”
Side by side they scrubbed pans and pitched out burned hunks of bread and rubbery noodles. The plastic colander would have to be replaced, and he wasn’t sure if his saucepan would ever be the same, but it didn’t matter. That was just stuff. She was so much more important to him than kitchen accessories. And she needed to know that. Her meltdown this evening was a prime reason to take their relationship to the next level. It was time to let her know how much she meant to him. That she didn’t have to worry about convincing him to like her. Even if he only told her with touches and kisses.
Half an hour later, they finished cleaning the mess. He pushed open the screen door and held it for Jessie.
She sat in the swing and steadied it as he joined her.
The night was perfect. This was all part of his plan, watching the sunset with Jess while the cicadas sang and the bullfrogs called to their mates.
“The baby’s room looks nice,” he said as he rocked them back and forth with his heels.
“I think so.”
When had things gotten awkward?
Or maybe it was just him.
He felt fourteen again, trying to figure out a way to kiss a girl and hoping the whole while that she wouldn’t slap him across the face.
But this was Jessie. All he had to do was scoot a little closer, wrap his arm around her, and—
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She gave one vigorous shake of her head, then doubled over.
“Jessie?”
“Sick,” she gasped.
“Do you need help getting inside?”
“Is this going to happen every night?”
“I can’t say for certain, but I’m thinking yes. This is three nights in a row.” He couldn’t be too upset about his plans being shot, not with Jessie wheezing and gasping and doing everything in her power to keep her dinner inside.
He rubbed her neck, wondering what he could do to make her feel better. He had wanted them to have a special time. He wanted to show her with his body that he loved her. He had been a patient man, but now that patience was wearing thin. But she was sick, and all because of his baby.
“Can you make it to your room?” His plans would have to be put on hold for a while. Maybe months if she was going to get sick as soon as the sun went down.
“I think so.” She stood and swayed like tall grass in a strong wind. “Can you help me?”
He rose and wrapped one arm around her. As slowly as he dared yet as quickly as he could, he walked her to her room.
He helped her into bed, pulled up her covers, then got her a wet washrag just as he had the night before.
“Just rest,” he murmured, bending low to plant a chaste kiss on her cheek. Not exactly how he had imagined their evening would end.
He started toward the door.
“Seth,” Jessie whispered.
“Yeah?” He stopped, waiting for her to continue.
“I’m sorry.”
“Aw, Jess. You don’t have to apologize. Just feel better, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I love you,” he said with one last look at his wife before letting himself out of her room.
* * *
Jessie woke the next morning feeling as right as rain, as Grandma Esther said. She had slept nine straight hours and felt refreshed after her bout of “morning sickness” the night before. Of course Seth’s words didn’t hurt either. He loved her. For a man who had trouble expressing himself, he sure knew the right thing to say.
The thought was satisfying and scary all at the same time.
It’s going to be a good day. She pushed herself from the bed, a little stiff from her long sleep. As she stretched, her muscles cramped. What did she expect after three nights of dry heaves?
She could hear Seth moving around getting ready for work. Taking care of her bathroom business as quickly as possible, she washed her hands and face and met him in the kitchen.
His eyebrows rose in surprise at the sight of her. He had one hip propped against the counter as he sipped his coffee.
“Good morning,” he said.
Normally she would have headed straight for the coffeepot for her shot of morning caffeine. But this morning she had something else on her mind.
“Good morning.” She stood in front of him, contemplating her next move. “Last night,” she started, inching a bit closer. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but she told herself to wait. “Last night you said that you love me.”
“Yeah.” His jaw tightened and his eyes grew a bit guarded.
“Did you mean that?” she asked.
A moment hung suspended between them; then his mask cracked and fell away. “Yeah.”
She rose on her toes and pressed her mouth to his. He loved her!
His lips were stiff beneath hers. Then they softened as she continued to kiss him.
He loved her and yet he pulled away.
“Jessie,” he said, his voice choked and strained. “I need to go to work.”
“You mean now?” she asked, deciding that if he wasn’t going to let her kiss his lips, she would move her efforts to his jaw and that crazy pulse beating in his neck.
“Soon,” he croaked.
“How soon?” she asked, sliding her hands down his chest. He had been so diligent in his courting efforts, but enough was enough. There was something between them. She couldn’t say exactly what it was. But he loved her and she was beginning to think that she loved him in return.
Scratch that. She did love him. She had loved him her entire life like a brother, but ever since that afternoon in his truck . . .
He had been thoughtful and angry. Her rock, her nemesis, her savior, and now her husband. What was not to love?
“Fifteen minutes.”
She continued to kiss her way down his neck. How could one man smell so good?
“Half an hour,” he corrected, swooping in to capture her lips with his own. The kiss was searing and curled her toes. She loved every bone-melting minute of it. “Forty-five minutes. I got forty-five minutes before someone comes looking for me.”
She laughed as he captured her lips once again. They could do a lot in forty-five minutes. Her arms snaked up and circled his neck, holding him closer and closer. His kiss was delicious, electric, and she couldn’t get enough. She never wanted it to end.
He walked her backward until her behind bumped the kitchen counter, then lifted her up and nestled between her legs.
“Much better,” he murmured as he continued his possession.
She was on fire, consumed by this need she had for him. “Is it always like this?” she asked as she tipped his hat from his head and tossed it onto the kitchen table.
“Yes,” he said, his teeth capturing her bottom lip and tugging. “I mean, no.”
She pulled away so she could look into those incredible green eyes and see the truth. “Which is it?”
“It’s not always like this,” he admitted. “But it is when I’m with you.”
That was good enough for her. She tangled her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him in for her kiss.
The explosion was back. That out-of-control desire that had been there from the start. She might be inexperienced, but she could tell that Seth was holding himself in check, touching her as if she would break at any moment. He was gentle and caring, but she wanted more of that wild ride they’d shared on the seat of his truck.
“Touch me,” she whispered.
“I am touching you.” His fingers brushed across her breast, pebbling the nipple and sending tingles throughout.
“Touch me like you mean it.” She pressed herself into his hand. She wanted him real. She wanted it real. Everyth
ing between them needed to be real. So much had happened and yet nothing. She needed him to stop holding back. He needed to be himself. Love her naturally.
He moved that hand up to cup the side of her face.
“Are you doing this because you’re afraid?”
“I don’t want to hurt you. Or the baby.”
“People have been making love since the dawn of time. I’m sure a few of them have been pregnant.”
“I suppose.” He dipped in for another kiss.
“Would it help if I told you that the doctor said it was okay?”
“Gary said that?”
She nodded. “He said making love in the first trimester is perfectly safe as long as there are no other issues.”
“He’s a good doctor.”
Jessie laughed and pulled his lips back to hers.
She smiled against his kiss, running her hands into his waistband and untucking his shirt from his jeans. “Kissing a man with a gun is tricky,” she said, bypassing his weapon to ease her eager fingers under his shirt and up his warm torso.
“You have no idea.” He shivered as she made contact, then moved in a little closer. “But if you keep this up, I won’t have any self-control left at all.”
“Isn’t that the point?” She hooked her heels behind his legs to hold him in place.
“No, I want to love you like you need to be loved.”
His words shot a thrill through her greater than the desire that filled every pore.
“I want to lay you down in a soft bed.” He planted a quick kiss at the corner of her mouth. As he talked, he moved his hands over her, tugging at her cotton sleep shorts and the other pieces of their clothing.
“I want to kiss every single inch of you,” he continued. “Your chin, collarbone. Each breast.” His mouth covered her through the fabric of her shirt, the cotton clinging to her as he wet the cloth.
“I want to touch every part of you and make you mine.” His hand slipped between them as Jessie fell into his words.
“I want to be yours,” she said. She had always been his. She just hadn’t known it until recently. She scooted closer to him, realizing that her shorts were half off, dangling from one leg. He was a clever man, her sheriff husband.
“And you will be.”
His fingers found her, slipped inside. She was ready for him, so ready. She had been ready her whole life.
“Seth,” she gasped as he pushed farther inside. Touched her like no man before. “Seth, please.”
“Seth, please what?” he asked. He pulled away just enough for her to want him back.
“Please love me.” This friction was killing her.
“You know I do.”
Unable to take any more, Jessie fumbled with his zipper. She left his belt in place, needing him so desperately. She needed him now, five minutes ago, since the dawn of time.
It seemed like forever before her trembling fingers freed him. She brushed her fingers down his length, soft, hard. So much like the man.
“Jessie.” Her name was between a prayer and a curse, gritted from between clenched teeth. His control was slipping. She could see it in his eyes.
His hands came around and cupped her bare bottom. He lifted her and pressed for entrance. She used her hands to guide him home.
He filled her wholly and completely, the solid length of him taking her breath.
“Got to slow down,” he panted. She needed to move. She wiggled, urging him deeper.
He groaned. She gasped.
“No.” She buried her face in the warm crook of his neck. She wanted to stay that way forever, locked as one with him. But she needed that sweet friction even more. She pushed against him, urging him to complete their union.
His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her rear as he used his hands to pull her closer, closer, and then he moved away, only to come crashing in again.
Jessie kept her ankles hooked behind him, refusing to let him leave her for even a moment.
She met his thrusts with one of her own, finding an ancient rhythm with him that she hadn’t known existed. He was more than she’d expected, and yet she needed him more and more.
“Don’t,” she panted. “Don’t . . .” But she couldn’t get the words out as he loved her so fully.
“Am I hurting you?” He stopped, and Jessie bucked against him one last time.
“Don’t ever stop loving me,” she finally managed.
“Never,” he said. Then took them over the edge of sanity.
And just as the last pulsing wave of their shared desire quaked through her, Seth’s phone rang.
* * *
Jessie floated through the morning on the euphoric high of their lovemaking. They hadn’t even gotten their clothes back to rights before Dusty called wondering where Seth was. Jessie supposed that was what five years of being punctual and never missing a day got him. Caught with his pants down. Almost literally.
The first pain hit just after lunch. At first Jessie thought she had to go to the bathroom, but soon it became apparent that something else was wrong.
Please don’t let it be the baby. Please don’t let it be the baby.
She needed to call Seth. She needed Seth. He was her rock. He would know what to do.
She grabbed her purse and fished out her cell phone. It was dead. Unaccustomed to having the phone, she had forgotten to charge it. There wasn’t a landline at the house. She would have to go to the big house. Someone there would help her.
One hand pressed to her lower stomach, she grabbed her keys. She had to stop at the front door and wait for the pain to subside. There hadn’t been anything about searing abdominal pain in any of the books that she had. She had flipped through them all twice just to be sure.
Sadie whined as Jessie let herself out of the house and stumbled over to her Jeep. The ranch truck was still there in the yard. Seth was going to take it back this afternoon. Maybe she should drive it over, but she had grabbed the keys to her car and she wasn’t going back now.
She slid behind the wheel of her Jeep and headed for the big house.
Wave after wave of pain washed over her as she drove.
She still had her appendix. Maybe it was her appendix. She wasn’t sure how surgery would affect the baby, but the doctors would take care of her. She just had to get to the hospital. And pray that the baby was okay.
Jake waved as she pulled her Jeep into the drive. She tried to wave back but wasn’t able. She had one hand pressed to her cramping stomach and the other in a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel.
She stopped the car, somehow managing to get out though she clung to the door like a lifeline.
Another pain doubled her in half.
“Jessie!” Jake yelled from his place in the corral. She could hear the pounding of his boots as he ran toward her. Then the warm, sticky gush between her legs. She barely registered the stain of blood on her jeans before she slipped unconscious.
Chapter Seventeen
Where is she?” Seth skidded to a stop on the hospital’s overwaxed tile floor. “Where’s Jessie?”
The waiting area was strangely empty, but he didn’t have room in his thoughts for the whys. He needed to find out about Jessie. “Where’s my wife?”
Jake stood. He was pale, his expression grim.
Seth looked to his mother for some reassurance, but there was none. Grandma Esther sat next to his mama looking as grim as his brother.
This couldn’t be happening.
He turned. He had to find her. He had to find her now. “Where is she?”
“She’s sedated and resting,” Jake said.
“The baby?” His voice was barely above a whisper. He didn’t need to ask to know.
Jake shook his head. “I’m sorry, Seth.”
He collapsed into the seat nearest him, his fe
et unable to hold him any longer. He braced his elbows on his knees and stared at the floor. “This is all my fault.” He shouldn’t have made love her to this morning. Sure, all the books said it was okay, but what else could have caused her miscarriage?
“It’s not your fault,” Jake said from beside him.
“It is,” Seth snarled. “This morning—” He stopped, unable to share. But Jake didn’t need to hear the intimate details of their relationship. And Seth didn’t need to hear that it wasn’t his fault. He was responsible. He knew it.
“Seth?”
He looked up as Gary Stephens approached. He wore the same grim expression as everyone in his family. Seth was beginning to hate that look.
Gary—Dr. Stephens—stopped in front of him, reaching out to shake. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Seth looked at his hand for a full three seconds before giving it a shake. It wasn’t the doctor’s fault. It was his. “Thank you,” he murmured, realizing as he said the words they were the dumbest response he could have made.
“Do you have any questions?” Dr. Stephens asked.
He thought his head might come off. “Yeah,” he all but snarled. Then he tempered his voice to a normal tone and continued. “Why?”
Gary shook his head. “No one knows for sure. Twenty-five percent of pregnancies end in miscarriage. And with first babies . . .” He shook his head. “Sometimes the body isn’t exactly sure what to do with it. Sometimes it’s a matter of early developmental deformities. The body recognizes that the fetus is not developing correctly and stops supporting it.”
Jesus. Did he say fetus? Was that what they were down to these days? It was a baby, for God’s sake. Did he think calling it by another name would lessen the pain?
You know why this happened.
Seth stood. As much as he wanted to believe all the reasons the doctor had outlined, he knew the truth.
“Seth, this isn’t your fault,” Jake consoled.
Gary looked from one of them to the other. “Why would it be your fault?”
Jake had the decency to take a few steps back and allow Seth the privacy he needed.
“This morning we, uh, made love. We shouldn’t have. I know that now.”