Caught Between an Oops and a Hard Body (Caught Between series Book 2)

by Seabrook, Sheila

  This was all Stone's fault. This whole pregnancy, throwing up thing. Because he was irresistible and now she had to pay for being weak willed woman.

  He’d implanted the seed of motherhood in her, so that the idea of becoming a mother was slowly blossoming. In less than nine months, would she be ready for this tiny human being they’d created?

  Inside, the seamstress shoved pins and needles and thread back into her bag.

  “I’m so sorry for the confusion. Liz will be right along.”

  The seamstress turned, her thin nose held high, her nostrils quivering the slightest with restrained anger. “I’ve been waiting over half an hour. How much longer do you expect me to wait?”

  Stephanie began to hyperventilate. “We’re fetching the bride right now. It should only be another five—” She quickly calculated the time it would take Stone to get to Liz’s cabin, but if she wasn’t there, what would they do? “Five minutes. Ten at the most.”

  The seamstress returned to packing up her things. “Not soon enough. I’m a busy woman. I have other clients.”

  Dora walked into the room just then, and Stephanie wanted to rush over and hug her. Her mom would know how to deal with the seamstress.

  Except as she sidled up to Stephanie, her gaze darting around the room, she hissed, “Where is he?”

  Stephanie raised her eyebrows. “Who?”

  “That nasty divorce lawyer.”

  Right. Her mom never forgave and never forgot, which was too bad because it would hurt Stone. “He’s looking for the bride. She’s late for her fitting. If you could just—”

  Her mom huffed out a sigh and headed for the wedding gown. “He’s probably one of those men that likes his women big boobed and dumb.”

  “Mom, that’s not very nice.”

  She bent her head to examine the stitching and muttered, “He probably hates children, too.”

  Stephanie remembered how he’d taken Mariam’s little tyke into his arms, as though handing a toddler was an every day occurrence. She clasped her hands over her abdomen. “Actually he’s pretty wonderful with kids.”

  But her mom chose not to hear her.

  “Your father was right. The moment he saw that man’s hand up your top, he said, no good can come of this. But did I listen?” Dora tsked, then straightened her back and retraced her steps to Stephanie’s side. “I was so very, very wrong. I should call your father and apologize.”

  She knew her mom’s obsessive personality well enough to know she wasn’t going to be of any help with the current situation. As Stephanie glanced down at her silent phone, she said, “Yeah, you go ahead and do that, Mom. I can take care of this on my own.”

  On her way out, Dora nudged her on the shoulder and lowered her voice to a stage whisper. “If the seamstress walks, she’ll be doing you a huge favor. Her stitches are atrocious.”

  Great. Stephanie gritted her teeth, and as expected, the seamstress turned, her face a granite stone.

  “That’s it. I’m out of here. Tell your mother she can fix my bad stitching.”

  Stephanie stepped into the other woman’s path. “Please, don’t go. My mother thinks she has the market on wedding and party events, but she’s an amateur, not a professional like you and me. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Your stitches are beautiful.” Thankfully, her cell phone rang. “Wait, this will be Liz.”

  “It better be.”

  Stephanie turned her back and headed toward the door, determined to thwart any attempt the seamstress made to escape.

  “Did you find her?” she hissed.

  Stone's voice came clear through the connection. “No. I’m heading over to Roger’s cabin to check there. And if she’s not there, I’ll check to see if she’s with Kevin.”

  “Kevin? Kevin who?”

  “Never mind,” he said. “Leave Liz up to me. I’ll find her and get her there.”

  The phone went dead. Stephanie met the seamstress’s shrewd gaze and gave her a weak smile. “Just another five minutes, please.”

  With her index finger, she tapped her mouth, her gaze traveling down Stephanie’s body. “You and Liz are close to the same size.”

  “What?” Stephanie glanced down at her too tight top and thought of the button on her jeans which she’d had to leave undone, then back up at the other woman.

  The seamstress pulled the gown off the hanger and held it up in front of Stephanie. “You’ll do.”

  It dawned on Stephanie what she was thinking. She took a step back. “No, I don’t do fittings.”

  “If you want this dress done in time for the wedding, you’ll put it on.” She shook out the dress. “Come on. Climb in.”

  The gown was beautiful, with a fitted bodice, fitted waist and a princess style skirt. The fine bead work glittered in the light as the full skirt swished and swayed.

  She reached out and touched the material and experienced a sense of awe. It wasn’t as though marriage had ever been in her plans anyway. Especially now that she was pregnant. It was better to raise her child alone rather than raise her baby with a reluctant father.

  Except Stone wasn’t all that reluctant. He was willing to step up and take responsibility.

  With a shake of her head to clear her thoughts, Stephanie took another step back. “It’s bad luck to try on someone else’s wedding gown.”

  “That’s just a rumor started by brides to keep their bridesmaids from trying on their gowns.” She pulled her lips into a smile that looked more like a sneer. “Either you put on the gown or I walk.”

  “But we have a contract.”

  “A contract which clearly states you will meet my time requests. Which of course, you haven’t.” She huffed out a sigh. “Look, I’m giving you a break because we’re in the same business. Take it or leave it.”

  Stephanie turned her back and in one last ditch attempt, pulled out her cell and typed. Desperate mother-to-be here…did you find her?

  Almost at Roger’s.

  “Where are you, Liz?” she muttered as she reached for the top button on her shirt. Deflated, she turned back to the seamstress. “Fine, you win. Let’s get this over with before anyone comes in and catches me wearing that dress. There are certain people who could get the wrong idea.”

  Like her mother.

  And Stone.

  Although, as the other woman pulled out her supplies to measure and fit, Stephanie eyed the open doorway, and wondered if maybe it was all an act to make her agree to his marriage proposal.

  Maybe he’d take one look at her dressed in the gown, and turn tail and run.

  How much worse could her luck get? She was already pregnant, unmarried, and planning the wedding from hell.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Roger answered the door with a smile. “Hey there, almost brother-in-law. I wondered how long it would take you to track me down.”

  Stone stuck out his hand and noted that the other man’s handshake was firm and confident. “Roger. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  The other man stepped aside and waved a hand toward the seating area. “Would you like to come in?”

  “Another time. I’m looking for Liz. Have you seen her?”

  “She’s shopping.” He took a hard look at Stone and sobered. “Is it urgent?”

  What had Stephanie said? Something about Liz changing dresses? Stone wondered if his self-centered sister had shared that information with the groom.

  He glanced down the path, hoping to see her, shopping bags in hand. “She’s late for her appointment with the seamstress. I tried calling her and texting her, but she’s not answering.”

  “No offense, but that’s because you’re her older brother.” Roger bent his head and started thumbing the cell in his hands. A few moments later, he glanced up, the smile still in his eyes and on his mouth. “She always answers me right away.”

  The younger man glanced back at the screen, and as the silence stretched between them, he began to fidget and frown. “I don’t understand. W
here could she be?”

  Stone backed up a step, uncomfortable. “I’ll keep looking. If you hear from her—”

  Roger nodded, his mouth grim. “I’ll let you know as soon as I do.”

  “Thanks, man.” Stone thought of Stephanie and how somewhere between the lust and fear, there was another emotion threatening to break free. He shook off the thought. “Usually one encounter with our mother is enough to get rid of the potential life partners.”

  “I love your sister. Nothing is going to scare me off.” The truth of his statement was there, in the set of his jaw, the light in his eyes, the solid stance of his body. “The only way I’m leaving is if Liz tells me to go.”

  Stone glanced past the man where he saw the neat and tidy living room. And he thought of Liz’s room, clothes lying helter skelter everywhere. And he realized this kid—this young man—might be good for his sister. “I’m glad Liz picked you.”

  The surprised look in the younger man’s gaze was followed by relief. “One down, the rest of the family to go.”

  With a wave goodbye, Stone headed to Kevin’s cabin and when Kevin answered the door, he stared at the man on the other side of the doorway.

  The soldier stood in the center of the open doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, legs braced to take the brunt of whatever came his way. He looked like a rock, unmovable without the proper backup.

  And he gave nothing away. He was the perfect soldier. A stone cold killer.

  Why would Liz be with him? They were total opposites. She was vibrant and alive. Kevin was cold and lifeless.

  He peered around Kevin’s broad shoulders. “Is Liz here?”

  Kevin’s eyes hooded over. “No.”

  But Stone didn’t believe him because it was obvious he was hiding something. He tried to look around the man into the cabin beyond. “If you see her, remind her she’s late for her dress fitting.”

  “I will.”

  A noise behind Kevin brought Stone up another step. “Who’s in there with you.”

  Kevin’s stance broadened. “No one.”

  Stone took another step up. “Don’t lie to me, Kev. We’ve been friends a long time. I can tell when you’re lying.”

  Mariam’s head popped up behind Kevin and she brushed past him, careful not to touch him. “Don’t get your panties in a knot,” she said as she hurried past, skipped down the steps, and headed down the pathway in the direction of the house.

  Stone stared after her, noting that her usually neat appearance had been…mussed. He returned his attention to his friend and raised one eyebrow.

  Kevin just stared at him.

  With a sigh, Stone knew he’d get nothing out of the other man. Quietly, he said, “If you hurt my sister…”

  He let the words drift off, because really, what could he do?

  But Kevin gave a bitter laugh. “It’s not what you think. If anything, it’s the other way around.”

  Stone didn’t like the sound of that any more, and as he headed toward the house, he wondered why love couldn’t be easy.

  He rushed the rest of the way to the main house, bounded up the steps and through the house to the fitting room where he halted in the open doorway.

  Stephanie stood in the middle of the room on the raised platform, the skirt of the wedding gown floating around her bare feet, the soft skin of her shoulders gleaming in the morning sunlight.

  His body stirred, woke with something primitive, and even though he knew he should be running as fast as he could, he couldn’t make his feet go anywhere because his mind and his heart were suddenly working in unison. And they both urged him toward the woman staring back at him with a mixture of exasperation and worry on her face.

  “Where is your sister?”

  “Shopping.”

  “How could she forget about this appointment?”

  “Haven’t a clue.” He crossed the room and stared up at her, feeling poleaxed. “Wow, you look gorgeous.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Shouldn’t you be running and screaming in the opposite direction?”

  He caught her hand in his and gave a tug, but she stood solid. “Come down from there.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you look sexy in that gown and I want to explore what’s underneath.”

  Her smile turned dour. “Flattery from the king of divorce. What do you want?”

  You, he nearly said, but he forced himself to take things slow and easy with the mother of his child. He didn’t want just here and now. He wanted forever. “Is this the new gown?”

  Silent, she nodded, and broke eye contact when she looked down and fingered the lacy material.

  “Why are you wearing it?”

  “Because the seamstress is more impatient than your mother. It was put on the dress or she was out of here. And then half way through the fitting, she left anyway. Without, I might add, taking the gown with her. It’s my mom’s fault. She didn’t like the stitches and let the seamstress know.” Raising her head, she took hold of his outstretched hand, grabbed the edge of the skirt, and pulled it up to her knees so she could climb down. “Help me get this thing off.”

  “Oh yeah, that’s high on my list of things to do,” he murmured.

  She stopped mid-step and stared at him, a puzzled look in her wide eyes.

  He gave a tug on her hand, tipping her off balance just enough for her to fall into his arms. He caught her by the waist and held her close. “Where’s the seamstress now?”

  “Probably sticking pins into a Barbie doll or something.” She pulled down the shoulder of the gown, revealing more of her delectable skin. “Look. She’s stuck me at least a dozen times and I’m sure more than half of them were delib—”

  He shut her up the easiest way possible, by laying siege to her mouth until her eyes drifted shut and she leaned into him, returning the kiss like one drugged into submission. Good, because he felt that if he had to wait one more second, he was going to go stark raving mad.

  “I want to make love to you,” he whispered against her mouth.

  She reached around behind her back. “Give me a moment to take off this gown.”

  He started pulling out the stickpins and set them aside. “No, keep it on. I want to be the one to take it off you.”

  She paused and with a sigh, stared up at him. “Why do you do this to me?”

  He kissed the side of her neck, the bared skin of her shoulder. “Do what?”

  “Cloud my mind so all I can think about is you.”

  He nipped at her shoulder, felt her shiver in response. “Because, baby, that’s exactly what you do to me.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Stephanie shook her head in disbelief. “A wedding dress is turning you on? Are you sick? Mental? Something you’ll pass on to our baby?”

  “Yes. No.” He chuffed out a self-conscious laugh, his breath warm against her shoulder. “If you must know, it’s not actually the dress, it’s the woman inside it.”

  “Smooth talker.” She placed her palms against his chest, felt the thump of his heart against her palms. “The dirt—”

  “I’ll get it cleaned before Saturday.”

  Stone took her by the hand, and weak-willed woman that she was, she gave in and followed him out of the fitting room, out of the house, and down the path toward the cottages.

  He held on to her hand and they moved quickly, as though he were afraid they would get stopped by someone and wouldn’t make their destination.

  The moment they were inside his cottage, he locked the door, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her until she forgot all about getting the dress dirty, until all she could think about was how good he felt pressed against her.

  Slowly, as he backed her toward the bedroom, his mouth fused with hers, he worked his magic on the buttons until they no longer impeded his quest to remove the gown.

  Which was a really good thing, because Stephanie was losing control…but what good did control do when he was so close, so irresistible?
r />   He pulled back and peered down at her. “I’ve never seen you look sexier.”

  “I suppose one day I’ll find you ogling a bride magazine as if it were a nudie mag.” He looked at her with a moment of horror and as her stomach dipped with disappointment, she forced out a laugh. “Here it comes, the real Stone Kincaid. Want to borrow my sneakers?”

  The horror disappeared from his expression, replaced by one far sneakier. “Maybe I’m getting over my fear of weddings and brides.”

  “And wedding planners?”

  “Especially wedding planners.”

  She reached up and unpinned the hair piece and pulled the train down, setting it carefully across a chair so it wouldn’t wrinkle. Then she turned her back to him. “Finish this, will you?”

  “Not yet,” he murmured as he proceeded to kiss his way across one shoulder and up her neck to her ear.

  A shiver crept over her and she leaned her head back so it rested against his shoulder. His arms came around her waist and he caught her mouth in a bone melting kiss, which turned her knees weak and her brain even weaker. She forgot about everything but what it was like to be naked in his arms.

  He raised his head and met her gaze. “You taste good.”

  She smiled back at him. “Strawberry lip gloss.”

  “Mmmm, tastes more like Stephanie,” he murmured as he turned his attention back to the buttons.

  Even through the layers of the gown, she could feel the heat of him behind her and she wanted his hands on her bare skin so bad that she ached. “This is taking too long.”

  “Almost done,” he said, and seconds later, he caught her by the shoulders and turned her around to face him.

  Stephanie let the gown slowly drift down her body. She watched as his gaze follow the material down to the floor where it landed in a pool of white lace. Everywhere his gaze touched, her body came alive.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered into the quiet between them.

  She stepped out of the gown and bent to gather it into her arms. “Let me just—”

  He brushed it out of her arms back onto the floor. Then he swept her into his arms and carried her toward the bed, where he laid her down so gently, almost as though he were afraid she would break. “So beautiful.”