Do You Take This Baby?
Page 17
Riveted to the scene, Gemma watched Ethan oh-so-carefully reach into the crib. As he drew the baby to his chest in an exquisitely protective cradle hold, she felt an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. She had lived this moment a thousand times before. In all her cherished daytime dreams, in her fantasies of the perfect life, this was how it had played out—with her husband looking at a baby so lovingly, so tenderly that she felt her own love flare to life in response.
If Ethan hadn’t been cooing to Cody at that moment, he might have heard her soft, quick intake of breath. Moving quickly into the hallway, Gemma leaned against the wall for support. I love this life. I love...
You.
It was true. Time to come to terms with the idea that she didn’t simply love Ethan—good friend, caring uncle and object of her vivid fantasy life. No, she’d fallen in love with him. She was already living the life of her dreams. Or she could be if she gave herself and Ethan a chance to truly make this marriage work. In fact, this was better than anything she could have possibly imagined.
Why had she insisted on that stupid moratorium?
Damage control if this doesn’t work out, remember?
Chewing her thumbnail, she thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. The “damage” was already done. Her heart was irrevocably his.
As quietly as she could, she turned toward the laundry room, where her freshly washed and dried clothes waited for her. She knew what she wanted. And it was all under this roof.
* * *
When Ethan’s footsteps finally sounded in the hallway just outside the kitchen, Gemma felt her knees begin to quake. Be brave. Nothing ventured...
She’d put a spiral-bound notebook, a relatively simple children’s story and several pencils on the kitchen table to set the stage for their...lesson. This had better work, she thought as she quickly donned the reading glasses she used for grading papers and positioned herself at the table. If for some reason her plan for the evening failed, she doubted she’d be able to live it down in this millennium.
As Ethan rounded the corner and swung through the kitchen door, he said, “Sorry that took so long. I had to get Cody...back...to sleep...” His voice trailed off and his movement stilled. As his brows rose, his eyes widened, then ever so slowly, the million-dollar grin unfurled.
“Hello again,” she said, hoping she sounded a whole helluva lot calmer than she felt.
Ethan’s gaze started at the top of her head and traveled down, making frequent leisurely stops to enjoy the scenery. And there was plenty of scenery to enjoy, as she’d donned the tiny sheer teddy from their wedding night.
As Ethan’s breathing grew noticeably more shallow, Gemma thought she might forgive her sister for the pajama switch, after all. “Excited to get started on your reading lesson?” she asked.
“Ohhh, yeah.” Like a lion stalking his prey, he moved slowly across the kitchen to stand in front of her. “In fact, I think reading is going to be my favorite subject.”
“That’s the idea.” Removing her glasses, she ran the stem along her lower lip. “I have a few learning techniques I’d like to try with you.”
“Really.” Reaching out, he traced the lace that ran over her collarbone and into the valley between her breasts.
She shivered, her head dropping back. “I take it you’re a hands-on learner.”
His palm slid over to cover her breast. “What gives you that idea?”
Gemma inhaled deeply. “Oh, just a hunch. Many dyslexic people are—” she had to swallow a moan when his free hand cupped her other breast “—quite tactile,” she completed her sentence.
“Mmm.” Ethan dipped his head to the side of her neck, his warm breath and the brush of his lips causing ripples of pleasure. “I had no idea there were so many advantages to this disability.”
“Me, either.” She allowed her head to fall back, giving him access to as much of her neck as he cared to kiss. “Might as well look on the bright side. Also, I believe strongly in the reward system. Have I mentioned that?”
“No. I bet you’re a really popular teacher.”
“Actually—” she gasped as he pressed his hips against hers, leaving no doubt about the effect she was having on him “—up to now, it’s all been theoretical.” Excitement, like soap bubbles, rose in her stomach as she felt his grin tickling her neck.
He trailed kisses along her collarbone, then touched his tongue to the hollow of her throat. She tingled everywhere. Barely able to murmur, she asked, “Did you want to start reading now?”
He growled his response. “No.”
“Oh, good.” Her head fell back, exposing more of her neck for him to enjoy.
Unleashed, he took her face in his hands and kissed her with a hunger that matched her own. Could it be? Was it possible he wanted this moment, this marriage, as much as she did? Hope tasted as delicious as his kiss as Gemma wound her arms around his neck. Only the hum of the refrigerator and their labored breathing broke the quiet as they made up for all the kisses they’d managed to sidestep since leaving their reception. When she was sure she was beyond the point of no return, Ethan pulled away and took a step back.
Lungs laboring, he dragged a hand through his hair. “What about the ninety-day prohibition on sex?”
She stared at him, feeling glassy-eyed, breathing just as hard as he was. “Moratorium. For educational purposes.”
He reached for her again. “What about the work you set out?” He nodded to the books and papers on the table behind her.
“We’ll tackle that later.” In one motion, she swept everything off the table. “For now, just tackle me.”
* * *
Ten days later, the afternoon sun looked like a ball of honey by the time Gemma returned home from a very special shopping excursion. She’d driven all the way to Sandy to buy the props she planned to use to set the stage for the most important night of her life. More important than her wedding. Because tonight she was going to tell the man she’d married that she loved him.
The past ten days had been better than any daydream she’d ever dared to dream.
For one thing, he’d received numerous calls about his decision to retire from the NFL and about their marriage. Though neither she nor Ethan had any idea how the information about their hasty wedding had been leaked, he seemed perfectly comfortable confirming it and adding that he was “completely happy” and “very excited about this next phase of life.” It could have been a sound bite, but somehow Gemma knew it wasn’t. She’d never seen him look so content.
He even enjoyed their learning sessions, which were turning out to be a revelation. Gemma would watch his broad shoulders hunch over a book, his handsome brow furrowed in concentration, and she would marvel at his humility and hunger to learn.
Then there was the sex.
Although she’d never made love without believing she was in love, neither had she ever experienced the passion she felt with Ethan. She’d never even come close.
Gemma was crazy in love with her husband, and he loved her, too. He must. No one could make love to her the way he did, be as attentive and caring and happy as he was right now, without loving her back.
The past couple of nights as she’d lain in his arms, warm and safe and complete, it had taken all her willpower not to blurt, “I love you, and I love the three of us together, and this is exactly how it’s meant to be forever and ever and ever, and I know you feel the same, but could you say it, please, because I’m a girl, and I reeeeeeaaaally need to hear it.”
Instead, she’d planned a night she hoped they’d both remember forever. With Cody happily bundled against her tummy and chest this afternoon, she’d shopped for groceries—including the ingredients for a chocolate body paint recipe she’d found online—and a brand-new teddy with matching bikini panties in purple lace. The skin-baring ensemble was decorated
with pink silk hearts positioned in a way that made Elyse’s selection look subtle by comparison. Tonight, she thought delightedly, was not going to be about subtle.
On her way back to town, she’d dropped Cody at her parents’ place. They were thrilled to babysit while the newlyweds had a date night. Now Gemma buzzed with anticipation as she carried her groceries and the tissue paper–filled gift bag containing her lingerie up to the front door. Setting the groceries on the ground, she fit her key in the lock.
“Hel-looo, I’m back!” she sang, wondering whether to begin the evening with the dinner or the chocolate body paint.
“Gem?” Ethan called from the direction of his office. “I’m glad you’re home. I was just about to call your cell. Stay right there.”
As he rounded the corner, Gemma felt her pulse accelerate. The chocolate body paint. Absolutely. Her husband was...everything. Everything she wanted. You know what? The heck with the body paint. It would have to wait. She couldn’t let another second pass without telling him all she was thinking.
“Ethan!” She ran to him before he reached the foyer. “Ethan, I have something—”
“Gemma, I’ve got great—” He stopped as they talked over each other.
“Oh, all right, you first,” she relented with a grin, looping her arms around his waist and leaning back to look at him. “I’m going to require your full attention.”
Bending down, he pressed his lips to hers in what felt like a swift, celebratory victory kiss. “Okay. About an hour ago, give or take, I got a call from Winston Rhodes, the private detective I hired to find Samantha. He tracked her down again, in Montana this time. He’s actually with her right now. I spoke to her, and Gem, she’s stone-cold sober. She says she’s been clean since she had Cody, and she’s agreed to stay put until I get there.”
Slowly, Gemma’s arms fell away from Ethan’s waist even though her thoughts were spinning so quickly now, she felt dizzy. “Until you get there?” she asked. “You’re leaving?”
“Right away.” He gestured to the door, where his duffel sat, waiting.
“You’re packed.” Slowly, she shook her head. “You said the detective phoned an hour ago, and you’re packed already...and you didn’t call me?”
“I was just about to. I told you that when you walked in, remember? Gemma, I’m sorry. I had to move fast. I needed to call Claire, so she could make my plane reservations.” Reaching for Gemma, he rubbed her upper arms. It was impossible to miss the excitement and urgency in his expression. “Samantha has run every other time we’ve gotten close. She’s finally willing to talk, to see me. We can’t lose this chance.”
“You really believe she hasn’t used drugs or alcohol since Cody was born?” Hearing the cynicism in her voice, Gemma cringed. Resentment was bubbling inside her, like poison in a witch’s cauldron. But at whom was she resentful? At Ethan for not calling her immediately to tell her what was going on? Or was she resentful that Samantha was back, possibly well and ready to parent the baby that Gemma already loved?
Ethan’s hands had stilled on her arms. “I do believe her. She told me she’s tired of running. I think she means tired of running away from her life and responsibilities.” A smile, small but heartfelt, pulled at his lips. “I think I’m finally going to be able to bring my sister home.”
Smile back, her conscience told her. Tell him how happy you are for him. For Samantha. But “When do you leave?” were the only words she could speak, and her lips barely moved.
“Now.” He rubbed his forehead, wincing apologetically. “I’ve got over an hour drive to the airport.”
Before her throat closed completely, Gemma asked, “Want me to take you?”
“No,” Ethan responded immediately. “I’ll use airport parking so the car’s there when I need it. I don’t have a return flight booked yet. This’ll be easier all the way around.” He hunched down to give her the Ethan Ladd Look, the one that implied she was the only other person on the planet in that moment. “I will call to keep you in the loop about everything. First priority. I promise.”
She nodded, using sheer willpower to summon a wobbly smile.
“Is Cody in his car seat? I want to say goodbye and take a photo so Sam can see what he looks like. He’s changed even this past week, don’t you think?”
Suddenly feeling as tired as if she’d run a marathon, Gemma said, “I took Cody to my parents’ house.” At his quizzical look, she admitted, “I’d sort of planned a surprise date night.”
Ethan squeezed his eyes shut briefly. “Aw, damn. I’m sorry.”
Sensing his guilt and that he was trying to figure out amends even with everything else on his mind, Gemma told him not to worry, and she meant it. “We’ll do it another time. When you get back.”
Pulling her close, he kissed her again, more thoroughly this time, though Gemma’s own head and heart were so full, she had a hard time responding the way she would have only a little while earlier.
When they parted, Ethan remembered. “You said you had something to tell me.”
“Let’s hold off. There’s so much going on...”
“You sure it can wait?”
“Yep.”
“All right.” Getting the duffel bag, he slung it over his shoulder. “You get my full attention as soon as I’m home.”
“Sounds good.” His leaving, on the other hand, still sounded awful, and try as she might, Gemma could not get comfortable with this situation. Or with the feelings that dogged her as she followed him to the car to watch him drive off. Returning to the house, she felt her body begin to shake from the inside out. Lowering herself to the couch, she let the tears come.
* * *
He texted her at six that evening to tell her the plane was taking off, at nine thirty to tell her it had landed, and then phoned her at midnight. His first words were, “Did I wake you?”
“No.” Gemma held the phone close to her ear. Ethan’s voice was rough, deep, careworn. Instantly, she wanted to soothe him, but she’d been so nervous all night and was so tired herself that she could barely speak. Spending the evening alone at home, she’d played scenario after scenario in her mind, and in every one Samantha returned to take the baby.
Gemma had been so sure she would burst into tears in front of her parents that she’d asked them to keep the baby overnight, and of course they’d been happy to oblige. Now she clung to the phone and waited for Ethan’s news.
“Where are you?” she asked.
“At a motel in Helena, Montana. I’m with Sam.”
“You are? Is she living at the motel?”
“Yeah. She works as a waitress in the restaurant next door.”
“I’m glad she was able to find a job.” Gemma said the only thing she could think of. “So...how is she?”
“Good. Hang on a minute.” His voice sounded more distant as he talked to somebody else. Samantha, presumably. “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, right? Maybe I’ll stop in for an early breakfast.” Dimly, Gemma heard another voice respond and a door close before Ethan got back on the line. “Okay, I can talk more freely now. Sam left to get some rest before her shift tomorrow morning.”
“Oh. Well, it’s great that she has a job.” She’d said that already, hadn’t she? “Is Samantha planning to stay in Montana?”
“No!” The adamance of Ethan’s response made Gemma sit up straight. “Of course not. She can’t stay here by herself. She’ll need support to take care of Cody. And support to stay in recovery. She’s clean now, but she ought to be settled in a place where she has lots of help.”
The weight of Gemma’s heart seemed to drag her whole body down. There were words that needed to be spoken, facts that needed to be clarified, but her lips refused to move. Samantha was going to take care of Cody.
“Sam needs to be in a twelve-step program,” Ethan co
ntinued in the face of her silence. “The counselor she had at the last place was clear that she should stay in therapy and attend as many group meetings as she can during the week. I don’t think she should be working now, either. It’s too much. Maybe she could take one of those parenting classes Jeanne told me about.”
“That’s your plan. Is that her plan, too?” Gemma found her voice, and clearly, Ethan was taken aback.
“She hasn’t made any long-term plans, Gemma. She needs help. That’s why I’m here.”
“So she’s coming back with you, then?”
Ethan paused. “Yes.” But his tone made her wonder.
“She said that? She said she’s coming back with you?”
“Gemma, Sam’s been struggling to take care of herself. Staying clean, paying bills on her own. She’s stressed out. She needs someone to step in and make the future less...frightening. She’s too confused to make major life decisions on her own right now.”
Sitting on Ethan’s couch, in his living room, glancing at the ring that made her his wife, Gemma began to feel less confused. And more than a little resentful. “Ethan, does Samantha want to be a mother?”
“Gem—”
“Did she say she wants to come back and be Cody’s mother?” Filled with an energy that needed release, she rose, pacing the dimly lit room with the phone clutched to her ear.
“She’s afraid.”
“Of what?”
Gemma could tell by Ethan’s voice that he was pacing now, too. “I don’t know. Okay? I’m not sure exactly what she’s thinking, I just know my sister.”
“Know her enough to pressure her into coming back? Because I’m wondering whether she wants what you want. It’s obvious you’d like her to be Cody’s mother. It’s clear as a bell that’s your agenda, but I haven’t heard you say she wants it. What did she say exactly, Ethan? So far you’re skirting that.”
“I’m not skirting anything. She wants it! She just doesn’t think she can do it. She always said she’d never abandon her kids the way our mother abandoned us. The way we grew up—” He blew out a noisy breath. “Damn it, Gemma, what’s the argument here? This is why we got married, isn’t it? We wanted to buy time to find Samantha and bring her back. That’s what I’m doing, and now you’re—” He stopped himself from saying whatever else he’d been about to say.