Celebration's Baby

by Nancy Robards Thompson

  There’d been no physical intimacy. Not even another kiss since the one they’d shared in front of the XYZ reporter. He had relived that kiss every day, but he wasn’t going to risk blowing everything out of the water by trying it again. Still, despite the lack of a physical relationship, he felt closer to her than ever. Of course, she seemed to have her fair share of hormones, or at least that’s what she chalked her occasional moodiness up to. But he had decided it would be a challenge to change her mood when she had her moments, and usually he was successful. The place where he really felt he was making the most progress was that she hadn’t brought up the trust issues since he’d put the ring on her finger.

  All these changes between them had added up to a trial run of what they would be like as a couple, and he hadn’t felt the urge to pull away.

  For him, that was huge.

  Bia had always had a special place in his heart, but now she had taken up residency there. That was the reason he didn’t mind spending a Saturday evening putting up shelves in the spare bedroom that would be the baby’s room.

  She had already started buying things and wanted to get organized as soon as possible. Even though she wasn’t due for another six and a half months, her job demanded a lot of her—a lot of overtime and sometimes unpredictable hours, depending on what she needed to cover for the newspaper.

  When she had asked him to put up the shelves tonight, he hadn’t hesitated. Toolbox in hand, he walked up the porch steps and let himself inside her house.

  “Hi, honey, I’m home!” The one thing in their relationship that remained the same was that they could joke with each other.

  “I’m in the baby’s room,” she called.

  He followed her voice down the hall to the first door on the left, where he saw her standing on a stepladder getting something out of the closet.

  “Be careful,” he said. “Do you want me to do that for you?”

  “I’m fine,” she said. “But here—could you take this?”

  She turned and handed him a medium-size cardboard box she had gotten off the top shelf of the closet. He took it from her, set it on the dresser and extended a hand to help her down from the ladder.

  It was a good thing he had because she faltered on the last step and fell into him. He caught her, holding her in his arms.

  She didn’t say a word and gazed up at him, looking shocked.

  “See, this is why you need me,” he murmured.

  He closed the circle of his arms around her and pulled her closer. He lowered his head toward her, hesitating a moment, giving her a chance to object.

  Their first kiss had been for the benefit of the tabloid reporter. Whether they wanted to acknowledge it or not, that kiss had been fueled by temptation and attraction that had been building for years.

  It had been a subconscious test. A justified pushing of the envelope to see if their relationship could go there. They had crossed the bridge. And not only had they survived; they seemed to be thriving.

  His mouth fused to hers.

  This kiss wasn’t for show. This one had been a long time coming. Silently she confirmed that, kissing him back, allowing him to take the kiss deeper. She moved against him, sliding her hands up his arms, over his shoulders until her fingers laced around the nape of his neck, holding him.

  A hot rush of need coursed through his veins, a need the likes of which he’d never felt before. How was it that each new step they took overwhelmed his senses even more, bringing on new feelings and desires—fiery, fierce and undeniable. Feelings he had never experienced in his long history of women. Because each woman he’d pursued was supposed to be the antidote to his feelings for Bia. Little did he know there was no antidote. There was no way out or around. Only through her could he be happy.

  His hands slid down the length of her curves until he cupped her bottom and pulled her closer, reveling in how perfect her body fit against his. She moaned into their kiss.

  Keeping one hand in place, the fingertips of the other found the waistband of her shorts and dipped beneath the cloth barrier that stood between them.

  Obstacles.

  There had always been obstacles between them—Duane or Hugh or Tracey or some woman he couldn’t feel anything for except a cordial kindness, which always meant cutting her loose before the friendship outgrew the bounds of amity. Physical distance, engagements, his marriage and jobs had separated them, too. Until finally the job in Celebration had presented itself. He had been patient, not wanting to move too fast when he’d first arrived, because things seemed to be going well between them. And then there was Hugh.

  Enough was enough.

  He was claiming what was his.

  Chapter Nine

  When she closed the doors to the chocolate shop the end of the first week that it had been open for business, Maya was both exhilarated and exhausted.

  Business had been steady the entire week. She was working hard to keep up with the demand—especially for her handmade chocolates. Bia had been in to see her a couple of times. During the last visit, she’d asked if Maya would like to meet Aiden.

  Of course she would. Maya had noticed the engagement ring on Bia’s hand, but she hadn’t asked too many questions other than having Bia confirm that she was, indeed, engaged to be married. There would be plenty of time for details, but right now Maya didn’t want to scare her off with too many questions. Even if she was dying to know every last detail of her daughter’s life—past, present and future.

  It was such a treat to look up from the wrap stand or from a shelf that she had been dusting to see Bia’s smiling face. It meant that she was ready for a relationship. Maya could feel it in her bones.

  The one person who hadn’t returned was Charles Jordan. Perhaps his business in Celebration was finished and he had returned to Orlando before he could say goodbye. Or maybe she had hurt his feelings when she had declined his offer for dinner at the pub.

  Whatever the reason for his absence, he had provided an interesting daydream: that somehow Ian was still alive. She needed to stop torturing herself with what could never be and focus on everything that was good in her life.

  Even so, on her walk home, she found herself taking a detour. She ended up walking by Baldoon’s Pub. While she was down here, she wondered, what could it hurt to pop into the place and check it out? She might even order a shepherd’s pie to take home for her dinner.

  The place smelled of fried food and beer. It was crowded, but then again it was Saturday night. It was nice to see other downtown businesses thriving.

  Maya looked around. She didn’t want to sit at the bar. Not alone. But she didn’t want to take up a table, either. She was just about to ask the bartender for a menu when a familiar voice behind her said, “Those were the best salted caramels I’ve ever had in my life.” Maya turned around to see Charles Jordan standing there. A strange excitement she hadn’t felt in ages blossomed in her stomach. It was a dangerous feeling. She knew she needed to be careful. It wasn’t so much that she was in physical danger as it was that her heart might be in jeopardy. She took a long hard look at the tall man clad in khaki pants and a white button-down shirt, his sleeves unbuttoned and pushed up his forearms, his blue eyes and dark hair that was graying at the temples. She saw his broad shoulders, so much like Ian’s that it made her want to weep. She found herself a little tongue-tied as heat began to creep up her neck.

  “Hello,” she said, finally finding her voice. “I thought perhaps you had already returned to Orlando.”

  “No, I’m still here,” he said. “I’ve been wanting to stop in to see you. However, I thought I’d best pace myself.” He patted his middle, but his eyes hinted that he might not be talking about the candy.

  “If you call ahead, I will make a fresh batch for you.”

  Charles nodded. “I’ll be sure and do that. In t
he meantime, would you care to join me for a bite to eat? Seeing that you’re already here and all.”

  He smiled at her, and there was a look in his eyes that pulled her right in.

  “That would be lovely,” she said and followed him to a table in the middle of the pub.

  It had been ages since she had been on a— Would she even call it that? It wasn’t a date. She was too traditional to consider this chance meeting a date. She had come here of her own free will to pick up her dinner. She just happened to run into...a friend. Dinner with a friend. That’s all this was.

  Charles ordered Maya the same ale that he was enjoying.

  “How has business been this week?” he asked.

  That was a good neutral topic, Maya thought.

  “It’s been fabulous,” she said. “Exhausting, actually. I may have to hire more help if business keeps up at the pace that it was this week. Then again, I suspect some of the customers may have just been curious. I hope they will return. I suppose I’ll just have to wait and see.”

  Charles had propped his elbow on the table and was leaning on his fist, gazing at Maya. His stare made her uncomfortable. It made her want to fill the silence with words. And she usually didn’t ramble.

  Despite the awkward silence, she forced herself to be quiet.

  The server returned with her beer, tried to flirt a little with Charles and then left them alone to look at the menus.

  “Do you believe in fate, Maya?” he asked.

  What kind of question was that? She’d never really thought about it, although to some extent her life did seem a bit preordained. The chocolate shop had been passed down from one generation to the other. Her stomach fluttered as she thought, for the very first time, that she might now have an heir to continue the legacy. Then again, Bia had her own career. Her daughter had freedom of choice. Fate was not pushing her; it wasn’t driving the train.

  “That’s an interesting question, Mr. Jordan.”

  “Are you always so formal?”

  Maya shrugged. “Charles. Is that better?”

  “Much.”

  “You remind me of someone,” she said. “I keep trying to decide if it’s because I remember you from your visit to the St. Michel shop. But that was so long ago. I’ve had many customers since then.”

  “Who do I remind you of?”

  “Somebody from a long time ago.”

  “Did you care for this person?”

  “A great deal.” She suddenly caught herself, not sure she wanted to continue where this conversation was headed. “I must say, Charles, you’re awfully forward to be asking such personal questions. Questions about fate. Questions about my past. What about your past? Do you believe in fate?”

  “I believe that sometimes life puts us in a position where we don’t have the luxury of choosing the path that we want to take.”

  “I’m not exactly sure what you mean by that.”

  “There’s not an easy explanation.”

  He was looking at her so intensely that for a moment Maya couldn’t breathe. Those eyes. Those blue, blue eyes. She’d only seen eyes that color—with flecks of silver and gold radiating from the iris—one other time. If she looked only at his eyes, she felt in her soul that this man was Ian. But that was impossible. She knew it was, and all the hurt that she had managed to shove away over the years sprang free from its trap, lodging in her heart and in the very blood that coursed through her veins.

  She couldn’t do this to herself. So much was going right in her life right now—the reunion with Bia, the new shop. Why was she going to torture herself with what she couldn’t have when things were going so well?

  Common sense said that she found Charles Jordan attractive. Why not try to start anew?

  Why not? For the same reason she had never been able to love anyone else since the day that she found out Ian was dead. Charles Jordan reminded her of everything that she had loved and lost and would never have again.

  It wasn’t fair to him.

  But what was she supposed to say? I can’t do this because you speak in riddles and remind me of my dead soul mate? Is that all I’m responding to? That you look like somebody who loved me and left me and took my heart with him?

  But you’re a stranger who appeared out of nowhere. This just won’t work.

  “If you’ll excuse me for just a moment, I need to—”

  She stood up from the table and walked quickly toward the front door.

  * * *

  Bia’s life felt fuller with Aiden in it. There was no doubt about that. Or about how these newfound feelings scared her more than just a little bit. All these years, she’d thought she had him figured out, but every day she was learning so many new things.

  Every time they were together, she found out something new about him. Small things, such as how he liked pickles but did not like them on his sandwiches. He wanted them on the side. She’d never noticed that before. And that while he liked to tell her about his day, he needed a few minutes after work to unwind and change gears. In the past, they hadn’t been around each other in these off hours, and she’d never realized just how much they could reveal about a person. One of the best things she’d recently learned about bad boy Aiden Woods was that he called his mother, who now lived in North Carolina, faithfully every Sunday afternoon. He had a deep connection with his family. When he talked about his mother, his sister and her family—they lived in the same small town as his mother—he exhibited a warmth and vulnerability that she never knew he possessed. These were just a few of the things she was beginning to discover and appreciate about him. And the more she learned, the more vulnerable she felt.

  They were so natural together, and it didn’t feel weird.

  And that, in itself, was weird.

  Her equilibrium was off, and she couldn’t keep blaming it on the pregnancy hormones. She feared she was beginning to buy into the PR that she and Aiden were selling to everyone else, and she wondered if she should start thinking about an escape plan.

  Just as Cinderella’s ball had ended at midnight, she was beginning to realize that their own bewitching hour would come. How was this fairy tale that they’d spun supposed to end? Because good things always ended. And she needed to start thinking of a plausible way out before her heart got in any deeper.

  Everyone knew them as a couple now. However, Aiden’s friends and coworkers had mostly stayed out of their business except to offer congratulations. She appreciated the space.

  However, tonight was the dinner party at Drew and Caroline’s house. Miles and Sydney would be there, along with Pepper and Rob, and another couple—A.J. and her husband, Shane.

  Venturing outside the intimate bubble world that she and Aiden had created, she feared that things were about to get really real. As she began to get ready for the party, she wished that she would have declined the invitation.

  Nerves flew around her stomach like a swarm of dragonflies. It was the first time she and Aiden would be out as a couple with a group. Now that they were together, they would be invited to gatherings like this dinner party—things that couples did together. In the past, they’d never been included.

  It was as if now that they were a couple they were somehow validated. That bothered her a little bit. She had been an interesting person before she had merged with Aiden. And the joke was on the others, since they weren’t really a couple at all.

  Tonight, they would be thrown together with actual couples, and she hoped it wasn’t a recipe for disaster.

  Her hair was done. She’d taken extra time with her makeup, and she’d chosen a green sundress paired with strappy sandals bejeweled with rhinestones. The dress, with its V neckline and full skirt, had always made her feel pretty. Now it accentuated the new fullness of her breasts. She paused a moment to appreciate her still slim waistline. All too
soon it would be a thing of the past. At least until after she had the baby and could get back into shape.

  She had to admit that despite her earlier trepidations, she felt sort of sexy getting all dressed up to go out. If she was completely honest with herself, she would admit that she was eager to see Aiden’s reaction when he saw her.

  It had been a long time since she’d felt sexy. And, it seemed, even longer since she’d been out on a date. If this even qualified as a date. Despite the rational side of her brain telling her not to make more of this than she should, it felt like a date.

  She was at her jewelry box, selecting a simple pair of hoop earrings, when she heard the sound of the front door opening as Aiden let himself in.

  “Hello!” he called.

  Her heart pounded.

  “I’m in the bedroom,” she called. “I’ll be right out.”

  She put in her earrings, then gave herself one last once-over in the full-length mirror.

  “I have a bottle of merlot to bring with us tonight,” Aiden called from the living room. “And a bottle of club soda for you.”

  He’d remembered the club soda.

  Oh, it really did feel like a date.

  Insecurity hit her like a tidal wave and threatened to knock her flat. Was the dress too much? Too low-cut?

  She tugged at the V-neck.

  People were used to seeing her in business attire or simple blue jeans and a button-down. Oh, well, this would be a definite change. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin, trying to remember how good she had felt just moments ago.

  Ah, well, this would have to do.

  Come on, you can do this.

  She wanted to do this.

  And what about the exit strategy that had sounded like such a good idea before Aiden had arrived with the club soda?

  The club soda was for tonight. The exit strategy would have to wait for another day.

  She walked out into the living room, her heels click-clacking on the wood floor in a way that made her want to shift her weight to her toes. But she didn’t, for fear that she might lose her balance. She’d purchased the sandals on a whim when Hugh had been in town. She’d only worn them once—the night of the Doctor’s Ball.