Then Comes Marriage

by Bonnie Pega

  He saw himself at twenty-one, vowing he’d own his own business by the time he was twenty-five. And he saw himself at twenty-five, vowing he’d be Fortune 500 before ten years had gone by, no matter how much work it took, or how much he had to give up.

  And he saw Libby. Libby, with dainty pink toenails, her hair in a shiny curtain down her back, her dark eyes flashing silver blue as she argued a point, and that all-encompassing smile that wrapped around a man’s heart. And Libby, the way she’d been just a little while ago, with her lips red and swollen from his kisses, her full breasts bared to his gaze—the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

  But there was also Libby covered with perspiration and holding her arms out for her newborn infant, and Libby’s face glowing with adoration as she cuddled her baby in her arms. And no matter what he felt, or how close they were getting, the baby was—and always would be—there.

  As soon as the movie ended, Libby stood. “Hannah should be home anytime now. I’d better get Cupcake home and tucked in her own bed.”

  “If you wait until Hannah gets here, I’ll see you home.”

  “I have my car,” Libby said gently.

  “Oh. That’s right. Make sure you drive carefully.”

  “I always do. I have precious cargo.” Libby picked up Victoria, then leaned down for the huge diaper bag she always carried.

  “Here, let me get that for you.” Zac grabbed the diaper bag and hoisted it over his shoulder. He walked her out to her car and tossed the bag into the backseat while she fastened the baby in the car seat.

  She looked up from the baby with a shy smile. “Thanks for—thanks for—”

  “Asking you over to save my skin? Not to mention my eardrums. Thank you for coming to my rescue.” He gave a crooked grin. “I guess sometimes the knights in shining armor are ladies.” He ran the back of his hand down her cheek. “Good night, Libby.”

  Why had it sounded as if he were saying goodbye? Libby wondered as she drove home. Was it the resignation in his eyes, or the finality in his voice? She wasn’t sure. She just knew something had changed as he had sat there and watched her nurse Victoria. Every time she’d peeked at him, she’d seen his brows crease as if he were wrestling with a heavy thought. And, finally, as the evening wore on, she’d sensed a subtle but definite withdrawal on his part.

  So what had changed? He’d blithely overridden all her objections to their relationship. Had he come up with one he couldn’t overcome? If so, what was it? They’d almost made love, for Pete’s sake! She’d been nearly mindless with passion in his arms and she thought he’d felt the same. So why had he suddenly turned cold? Was it the sound of Victoria’s crying that had done it?

  It was after midnight, and she was tired, so maybe her intuition was skewed. She hated to think that their relationship might end so soon—she had a feeling she’d regret it the rest of her life. Yet she was afraid that if things didn’t end now, she might regret it even more later.

  One A.M. Zac had an eight o’clock meeting Saturday morning with a new distributor, and he couldn’t sleep. He paced the floor for a while, then flopped on the couch and stared at the fish. For some reason, it suddenly seemed silly to have fish that matched his living room. Why had he ever agreed to it?

  And another thing. It was too quiet. He’d been surrounded all evening by babies crying, the television blaring, and Libby’s pleasant chatter. Now the silence that should have been so welcome was getting on his nerves. He turned on the radio, switching the dial from his usual favorite classical station to the heavy throbbing beat of hard rock.

  That was better. Maybe all this noise would keep him from thinking. He was afraid that if he thought too much, he might just damn the torpedoes and go after Libby full throttle. But he’d planned his life too long and hard to let anything get in the way now. He was going places. He’d decided that years earlier. And if he was ever going to settle down, it would be after his ten-year plan had been met. Even then—if then—there wouldn’t be any kids. His brothers had done their bit to keep the Webster name going, so that let him off the hook.

  And while he wanted Libby with a passion that ate at him, he didn’t want anything that smacked of permanence, and Libby would settle for nothing less. He’d finally seen that. So he’d drop it. The hunger that burned through him couldn’t last forever. Could it? He’d get over it. Someday.

  And to help keep his mind off Libby, maybe he’d ask out that curvy blonde he’d met at the racquetball club. He was sure she didn’t have anything more permanent in mind than a date for the following weekend.

  Out of fairness to Libby, though, maybe he ought to talk to her about it. It was the least he could do. A nice candlelit dinner and good food went a long way to easing hurt feelings. Not that she’d be too upset, he thought. She’d been adamant all along that they wanted different things. Besides, it would be good to see her one last time.

  He called Libby Monday morning and asked her out for Friday night. They talked for only a few minutes, since Zac was between meetings, but for some reason the conversation left him feeling good. He whistled as he headed down the hall.

  Zac usually enjoyed business meetings. He loved the challenge and stimulation of new ideas and fresh blood. Today, however, his mind kept wandering.

  Thoughts of Libby cropped up distracting him at odd moments. The sound of laughter out in the hallway made him think of Libby’s laugh. No one had her laugh—musical, infectious, incredibly sexy. A colleague snapped the lid on a shiny black briefcase … and Zac thought of Libby’s glossy dark hair streaming over her shoulders.

  When his secretary handed him a phone message on a pink notepad he thought of the shell-pink polish on Libby’s dainty toes.

  He was beginning to break out in a sweat. Holding up an impatient hand he suggested: “Why don’t we take a five-minute breather?” Without waiting for agreement he left the room and stalked down the hall to the front door. It was a cool, drizzly day, but Zac went outside anyway.

  He wished he’d taken up smoking. Maybe a long drag on a menthol cigarette would steady his thinking, but he doubted it. In his younger days he’d have slammed his fist against the wall. Of course, he would probably have broken his hand, since the walls were solid brick. But when he was a kid, he was more concerned with macho posturings and less concerned with getting to the root of the problem. And the problem was Libby. Dammit! Why wouldn’t the woman stay out of his head?

  He was going to have to solve this problem and solve it fast. Friday night he was either going to tell her they couldn’t see each other, or he was going to take her to bed and love her senseless.

  All week long, Libby half expected Zac to call with some weak excuse for not going out Friday night. Though she wasn’t sure why, her gut instinct told her to watch out for the Dear Jill call. Every time the phone rang, her heart pounded and she had to force herself to answer it. It was never Zac.

  She wanted to call him—she missed talking to him, seeing him, feeling his strength surround her—but she sensed that things between them had changed.

  Hannah seemed to confirm this on Wednesday afternoon when they took the babies to the park and ate lunch in the shade of the old maple trees that lined the walk. The first words out of Hannah’s mouth were “What in the world did you do to Zac?”

  Libby who had bent down to take Victoria out of the baby carrier, paused, then straightened. “What do you mean? I didn’t do anything to Zac.”

  “He sure has been subdued the past few days. He probably said all of two words to me when I got back Friday night; he said maybe three words when he came over for Sunday dinner. I figured you either knocked him upside the head or kissed him silent.”

  Libby took the baby out of the carrier and placed her on a blanket spread on the grass. “Hannah, I have no earthly idea what goes on in that man’s head. Everything was fine Friday night. We talked, watched television, and everything was fine. Next thing I know, he’s staring across the room in a blue funk. I was hoping you coul
d tell me.”

  Hannah opened the lid on the box of chicken she’d picked up on the way to the park. “I wish I could help you. But if it’s any consolation, I think you’ve got him tied in knots.”

  “I don’t think it’s me,” Libby said morosely. “I think it’s the baby. You know, the other night I saw a glimmer of how good he could be with kids if he let down his guard. He and Nicky actually had a friendly truce going there for a while. Next thing I know, Nicky’s asleep and Zac’s looking at Victoria as if she had two heads and six eyes.”

  “Well,” Hannah said around a mouthful of fried chicken, “he’s got to get used to babies sooner or later. I mean, he’s got two nieces and a nephew all under two.”

  “But he doesn’t see the twins all that often, does he?”

  “He gets up to New York two or three times a year and Matt and Alice come down here every so often. And when they do, they usually stay with Zac.”

  “Why? Don’t you have more room?”

  Hannah’s face shadowed. “Things are a bit strained between Matt and me. He thinks I should make more of an effort to get in touch with Ben. He and Ben are very close.”

  “But you told Ben you were pregnant.”

  “I sent him a letter when I first found out. I’d been confined to bed for a few weeks because of some bleeding, and I begged Ben to come home. He never even answered the letter. The next and last time I had any contact with him was when I sent him the divorce papers. Last time anybody heard from him was a letter he sent to Matt, saying he was taking a special consulting assignment in the Middle East and would be out of touch for a while. But I’ve pretty much resigned myself to the fact that he’s not coming back. Nicky and I will have to make our own life.”

  She sighed. “Let’s talk about something less depressing. Like when you’re seeing Zac again.”

  “Friday night.” Libby reached for one of the small containers of potato salad.

  Hannah took another bite of chicken and chewed thoughtfully. “If I’m being too nosy, just say so. How do you feel about my erstwhile brother-in-law?”

  “He makes me feel like I’ve got a bad case of prickly heat.”

  Hannah laughed. “I thought so. He’s quite a guy, isn’t he?”

  “Yeah. Quite a guy. Quite gorgeous, quite bright, quite stubborn and pigheaded and arrogant and—”

  “I get the picture. Don’t give up too easy, Libby. He might be a tough nut to crack, but he’s worth the trouble. And, if it means anything to you, I think you’re good for him.” She picked up another piece of chicken. “And I think you give him prickly heat too.”

  Deb called first thing Friday morning. “Libby? I can’t sit for you tonight.”

  “Why? Is something wrong?”

  “Yeah, I’m dying.” She stopped for a moment, sneezed twice, then continued. “Or else I’m already dead and don’t know it yet.” She sneezed again.

  “You sound terrible.”

  “The doctor says it’s just an allergy, but what does he know? It feels like pneumonia to me. I hope this doesn’t cause a problem for you.”

  “Oh, no. No, everything will be fine. I’m sure I can get Hannah.” Libby promised to call Deb later to check on her, then called Hannah.

  “Gee, I’m sorry, Libby,” Hannah said apologetically, “but I’m just on the way out the door. I’m driving to Jersey to spend the weekend with my parents.”

  Libby thanked her and stared at the phone in dismay. She didn’t mind cooking dinner for Zac at her house, but that was probably all it would take to scare him off completely. She didn’t know what else to do, though, so she called Zac’s office.

  His secretary answered the phone, and Libby paused for a moment at the soft, sultry voice she heard. That was a bedroom voice if she’d ever heard one. She quickly stifled the jealousy that stabbed through her and asked to speak to Zac.

  “He’s in a meeting,” the sexy voice said. “May I take a message?”

  “Would you please ask him to call Libby Austin when he gets a chance? He has my number.” She carefully replaced the receiver and bit her lip. So what did she do now? Did she sit and wait for him to call, or did she run to the grocery store in case he chose to come to dinner? She decided not to take any chances and went to the store.

  The telephone was ringing as soon as she opened the door, a bag of groceries balanced precariously in one arm, the baby in the other. She plopped the bag on the counter, where it promptly fell, scattering groceries everywhere and startling Victoria so that she let out a wail. “Hello?”

  “This is Zac.”

  Right, Libby thought, like it was really necessary for him to identify himself when the first word out of his mouth caused an army of goose bumps to march up her spine. “Hello, Zac.” She raised her voice over the baby’s cries. “My sitter fell through for tonight. I thought we could eat dinner here if you want.”

  There was a long pause on the other end of the line, then Zac finally said, “Maybe it wouldn’t be such a good idea. It sounds like the baby isn’t doing so well today.”

  Libby propped the baby on her shoulder and began a rhythmic patting on her back. “She’s fine, really. She’s just a bit cranky from missing her nap. I have all the ingredients for fettuccine Alfredo,” she said, knowing it was one of his favorite dishes.

  “Fettuccine Alfredo? Well, if you’re sure the baby is all right … what time?”

  “Seven? That was the time we originally planned to go out.”

  “I’ll see you at seven, then. Should I bring a bottle of wine?”

  “I’m abstaining while I’m still nursing. But feel free to bring a bottle if you’d like. I don’t need anything else. I have a loaf of Italian bread from the deli and I’ll toss a salad.”

  “If you won’t drink, then I won’t. But I insist on bringing something,” Zac said with a tone of finality. “I’ll stop by Guido’s and pick up some spumoni.”

  “That sounds wonderful. See you at seven.” Libby’s hand lingered on the phone long after she’d hung up the receiver. This wasn’t a good idea, she knew, but she was fascinated by Zac, intrigued by him, mesmerized by him. And in love with him.

  The knowledge came as no big surprise to her. It was just something she knew about herself. She had black hair, blue eyes, a baby, a dog, and an overwhelming love for one Zachary Webster.

  Great. Just what she needed. Not only was he not in love with her, but she had a strong feeling that he was searching for a tactful way to get out of the whole situation.

  She sighed and sat down to rock Victoria for a few minutes before starting on preliminary preparations for dinner. With a baby, things didn’t always go as planned, so she figured she’d better get as much done ahead of time as possible.

  Nevertheless, by the time she’d washed and dried her hair, fed and walked the dog, fed Victoria and played with her for a little while, she had only fifteen or twenty minutes left to get dressed. That would have been just enough time if only Zac had not arrived fifteen minutes early.

  Libby, wearing only a towel, peered around the door and gave Zac an embarrassed smile. “Um, hi. You’re early.”

  He glanced at his watch. “I guess I am.” He wasn’t about to tell her it was because he couldn’t wait to get there. He might never see her again after tonight, and this one last evening with her mattered to him. “Can I come in, or would you rather have me wait out here until seven? I’m not sure how the spumoni will hold up, though.” He grinned at her, relishing the rare flustered look on her face and enjoying the fact that he had been the one to put it there.

  “I’m not exactly dressed, but—” She broke off as Victoria began to fret. Clutching her towel, Libby opened the door a little wider. “I guess you’d better come in.”

  As Zac stepped into the living room, she immediately dashed to the bedroom, affording him only a glimpse of her impossibly long, slender legs and creamy, bare shoulders. God, he was hungry—and it had nothing to do with fettuccine Alfredo. Just then a small sound r
eminded him he wasn’t alone, and he gave a nervous glance toward the baby propped up in a baby seat. “I guess it’s just you and me, kid, huh?”

  Victoria was wearing a frilly pink dress. A matching pink bow was fastened to her one curl of fine dark hair. She stared up at him with solemn blue eyes, then kicked out one tiny bare foot in a tentative overture. When that didn’t work, she kicked out both feet.

  Zac squatted down in front of the baby. “Uh, hi.”

  She waved her arms at him, but didn’t cry, so he felt braver. “How’s it going?”

  Victoria waved her arms again, still staring at him. He held out his finger and the baby immediately grasped it. Zac said, “I need to spend some quiet time with your mom tonight. So would you please think about going to sleep early? You get to have her every day. I just want to borrow her for a while this evening. If you’re really good, then I’ll bring you—well, I don’t guess you can handle a lollipop yet—so I’ll bring you some strained peaches or something. Okay?” He gave a little shake to her tiny hand. “Deal?”

  NINE

  For a moment Zac marveled at how tightly the baby held on to his finger, as if it were something important she didn’t want to let go. She really was a cute little thing—when she wasn’t crying, that is.

  As for Libby, Zac still wasn’t sure whether he was going to try to end this relationship amicably or continue it passionately. Maybe they’d get the chance to explore their options tonight without interruptions.

  The dog began whining outside the back door. Remembering what Libby said the night he came to dinner about the dog disturbing the neighbors, he went to let him in. Bracing himself, he opened the kitchen door. The dog bounded in, wagging and yipping with joy, and immediately jumped on Zac. He tried to keep his face out of firing range of that two-foot-long tongue.

  Victoria apparently didn’t like being alone, because her disgruntled kicks and fretful whimpers now degenerated into screams. Zac went over to her and eyed her uncertainly. Lord, she put her whole body into it, that was for sure. Her face turned red, her little fists clenched, her feet kicked out angrily. He could only admire her wholehearted determination.