by Susan Crosby
“Yeah? Keri told me he got married and is expecting a baby.”
“And building a ski resort.”
“Amazing. All that happened since I’ve been gone.”
“Time marches on. Speaking of which, I need to get Mom back to town.” He started the engine. “So, you’re really okay with me writing the article?”
“Write a book, if you want. Or a screenplay.”
“Thanks.” Donovan made a U-turn onto the highway. “You’ll have to tell Mom, and the rest of the family, you know. You don’t want them to read about it.”
“I will. What’s the deal with Joe and Dixie, do you know? You think they broke up for the last time?”
“Neither of them are talking. They secretly watch each other when they’re in the same room, so I know there’s still a connection there. She broke up with him because he wouldn’t set a wedding date. Maybe she’s waiting for that this time.”
“He seems restless to me,” Jake said as they pulled into his driveway. “As much as he’s made a success of his business, he doesn’t seem satisfied.”
“Maybe you can get him to open up. Unlike Mom, who is an open book,” Donovan said with a grin when they spotted their mother on the porch gesturing wildly as she talked with Keri. “You know, if you don’t marry Keri before the baby comes, Mom’s not going to hide her feelings about it.”
“Mom’s feelings don’t make my decisions.”
“Yeah, well, good luck with that.”
Jake laughed. Aggie McCoy was, indeed, a force to be reckoned with. Although not as much of one as Maebelle McCoy.
“What do you suppose she had in that big beach bag she brought along with her?” Jake asked as they got out of the car, but then he spotted the answer immediately. A long, pure-white gown was laid over the porch railing, some kind of netting blowing in the wind—and it was way too large to be a christening gown.
“Look what your mother brought,” Keri said with forced cheerfulness. “Your sister Carly offered her wedding gown, which should fit since she was also…”
“In the family way,” Aggie finished when Keri hesitated. Aggie handed Jake an envelope. “Figured you wouldn’t have much time to deal with the details.”
Inside was a marriage license.
“It’s all filled in, son. You two only need to get someone to perform the ceremony then sign the license. No waiting period. No blood tests.”
Silence descended as if a bomb had gone off, leaving nothing alive in its wake. After a good thirty seconds, Donovan took his mother’s hand and tugged her down the stairs. “You’re due to babysit.”
Jake waited until the car disappeared before he looked at Keri.
“I told her I look better in ivory,” Keri deadpanned, then her eyes sparkled.
Jake held back a smile. “I imagine she had a solution for that.”
“Your cousin Elise has an ivory maternity gown.”
“Elise is six-foot-three.”
“So Aggie said. But duct tape is the solution to every problem, even hemming.”
He landed in the chair next to hers. In his direct line of sight was the wedding gown. He remembered his sister wearing it, her six-months-pregnant belly camouflaged by gathers, the bodice covered in beads—to draw the attention upward, he’d been told.
“I suppose you’ve dreamed of your wedding all your life, like most girls,” he said, having heard his sisters talk about it forever.
“Actually, no. I’ve dreamed of being a mother, but the whole wedding thing wasn’t something that mattered to me.”
“You don’t want to get married?”
“I didn’t say that. I want love and marriage. I just don’t need a huge, fancy, costly ceremony. So,” she said, her tone a clue to the fact she was changing the subject, “what did you think when you heard the baby’s heartbeat?”
He looked right at her. “It made everything real.”
Chapter Seven
He was pacing again. Keri sat up in bed the next night listening to him, as she had both nights before. Back and forth, out the front door for a while, back inside. The television was on then off, on then off. She’d had a nightmare for the first time since he’d arrived.
She needed him to hold her. How could she make that happen?
She drummed her fingers on the mattress, considering possibilities. They’d tiptoed around each other all day. She’d caught him looking at her belly—or maybe her whole body—a number of times. He went for walks with her but never held her hand except to help prevent her from stumbling. He also let go quickly, as if afraid to touch her.
She understood that. She was afraid if she put her hands on him, she wouldn’t let go, either.
People had called, a few were invited to stop by, each visitor helping to break the tension temporarily, then it would rebuild. She’d gone to bed early and struggled to sleep, only to drift into a nightmare of epic proportions. And now she was awake and shaky from it, listening to him, wishing he would fall asleep himself.
After waiting as long as she could, Keri got out of bed and walked into the living room. She found him sitting on the sofa, wearing a T-shirt and boxers, his elbows resting on his thighs, hands clasped, shoulders slumped. He lifted his head as she neared. She took his hand and pulled him up, then walked back to the bedroom with him, neither of them speaking.
Without letting go of him, she lifted the sheet and climbed under it, tugging him along with her. Resistance emanated from him.
“I had a bad dream,” she said as soon as he lay beside her, then she scooted close to him and rested her head against his shoulder.
After a minute, he lifted his arm around her and drew her closer. “Me, too.”
She wished he would take off his shirt. She wanted to feel his skin.
“You want to talk about yours?” he asked.
“It’s always the same. I’m locked up. It’s dark. I can’t get out.” She slid her arm across his chest. “What about you?”
“Worse.”
Tears stung her eyes. She hoped those evil men got the punishment they deserved.
Keri rubbed his chest. He put a hand over hers, stopping the movement, flattening it over his sternum. She recalled that he had some hair on his chest, had pushed up his shirt when they’d made love in their cell. They’d both kept their clothes on, shifting only what was necessary to make intimate contact. And they’d had to be quiet. So very quiet. She remembered biting his shoulder through his shirt as she’d straddled his lap, the feel of his mouth on hers, then on her throat, his tongue trailing down the inside of her arm and on her breasts, the erotic contact of his teeth and tongue on her nipples. She remembered how he felt when he slid inside her, hot and hard, filling her, their mutual orgasms instantaneous and powerful, and how he’d dragged her mouth to his, stopping her moans, tears streaming down her face and into their mouths.
“We’re not getting out alive,” she’d whispered again and again.
“Yes, we are,” he’d whispered back, his voice harsh but sure—
“You’re crying,” he said now, stopping her memories cold, pulling back to look at her face, the hall light enough to see by. “What’s wrong?”
“Do you think about it, Jake?”
“You’ll have to be more specific.”
“Us, making love in that cell.”
Only a blip of hesitation. “Of course I do.”
“I can’t even believe we did it. That we took that chance. And that we didn’t get caught.”
“Desperate measures.” He settled back against the pillows again and nudged her to lay her head against him. His fingers sifted through her hair.
“I have to tell you something,” she whispered. “You don’t have to respond, if you don’t want to, but I want you to stay here with me all night, even if—”
“Just say it, Keri.”
“Ever since the doctor said we could have sex, I’ve been thinking about it. I feel like I’m on fire all the time. It doesn’t matter what you�
��re doing—driving the car or eating or talking to someone else or just sitting on the sofa. I’m all achy and throbbing and—”
He kissed her, a full-out, no-tender-leading-up-to kiss, but with lips and teeth and tongue all involved, on and on and on, as if he couldn’t get enough, would never get enough. No one had ever kissed her like that, like she was the sexiest, most desirable woman in the world—and she was nine months pregnant. She never would’ve guessed she could feel like this. That a man would find her attractive.
The kissing went on until she felt raw, yet she didn’t want it to stop. She wanted more, much more. Everything…
Finally he put his hands on her face and held her still. “Do you want to keep going?”
“Yes. Oh, yes.”
“What would you like? As Doc said, intimacy comes in many forms. I want you to be comfortable. And sure. And honest, Keri. Please be honest.”
She worked up the nerve to be direct. “I want us to be naked. I want to touch you everywhere. I want to feel your hands on me, all over me. I don’t want to hurry, even though I know I won’t last long.”
He stroked her hair, ran a finger across her lips then kissed her gently.
“Just so you know,” she said against his mouth, “my expectations won’t change because of this. All it means is I want you. Need you.”
“Message received.” He touched his forehead to hers and drew a deep breath. “Getting naked was first on your list.”
She wore a simple cotton gown that he lifted over her head then laid aside. He didn’t touch her, just looked without smiling, without offering words of comfort. Nerves had her shaking. Her body was so different from the last time.
“It’s okay,” he said softly. “Everything’s okay.” Then he peeled off his T-shirt and shoved his boxers down and off, kicking them aside.
And, oh, he was glorious in all his naked splendor.
He set his hands on her belly, slid them over her taut skin up to her breasts, across her nipples, then back down again, his touch featherlight. Her internal furnace raged as he sat against the headboard and drew her over him, straddling his thighs, a vivid reminder of their time in the cell—except this time they were naked and assured of privacy. And time. Lots of time.
He leaned forward and ran his tongue over her nipples. She felt an instant tug down the core of her body, where everything tightened and pounded, then when his teeth scraped the hard flesh, she groaned. Reaching for his erection, she wrapped her hand around him, heard him suck in a harsh breath before he moved her hand away.
“Too much,” he said. “Too fast.”
“Me, too.” She set her hands on his chest. “But I need to touch you. To taste you.”
He swore, low and harsh. “Just hearing those words…” He held her by the shoulders, struggled for air, his body rigid with resistance.
“So let go and enjoy it,” she urged as she took him in both her hands and cherished him. A few seconds later he groaned, then arched, then lost control. His fingers dug into her thighs. She loved the look on his face, the pained ecstasy there. She had done that.
Long moments later he relaxed, limb by limb, muscle by muscle. He opened his eyes and held her gaze as he returned the favor. Straddling him as she was, she was open to him, to his exploring fingers that glided and dipped and aroused. Everywhere he touched added to the fire, the slower and softer the touch, the stronger her response to it. The climax slammed into her without any escalating sensation, only an all-consuming, powerful force that gripped and held and lasted forever, almost too strong to enjoy. She held at the peak, wouldn’t go over the top.
“Can’t…quite—” she panted “—finish…it.”
Jake heard her plea, and the desperation. Was he hurting her? The baby?
“Please, Jake…”
He stuffed pillows under her shoulders and knees, slid down her, settled between her legs, set his mouth on her, slipped his fingers barely inside her. She grabbed his hair and held, then there was no doubt she was finding her own satisfaction.
Finally she went still, and he moved to lie next to her. She opened her eyes, then covered her mouth with her fingers, as if embarrassed. “Did I hurt you? I know I pulled your hair really hard.”
“I’m fine.” He was more than fine, even though it was probably the dumbest—second dumbest—thing he’d ever done. Now that they’d given in to their needs, how could they go back to what had been? She would expect him to sleep with her from now on. And while he didn’t mind that, he figured she would read something into it that wasn’t there. Even now she probably wanted the after-sex cuddling that he wasn’t good at. “I think I’ll take a shower.”
He hurried out of the room. While he waited for the water to warm up, he kicked himself for sleeping with her, having sex with her. It wasn’t as if she’d forced him, or even rushed him. He’d had plenty of time to walk away.
Jake stepped into the shower. That time they’d made love in the cell had been the same. He could’ve stopped it at any moment, should have stopped it, especially given how it’d turned out. There was something about Keri that made him give in—
“Want your back washed?” the woman being debated asked from outside the glass shower door.
How could he say no? It would hurt her feelings. He’d really painted himself into a corner this time.
He opened the door and held her hand as she stepped inside. Her smile was tentative as she reached around him to grab a bar of soap.
“Turn around,” she said.
He did, leaning his hands against the shower wall in front of him, glad not to be facing her or letting her see he was already getting aroused again. What the hell was wrong with him, anyway? He should be protective of her, making sure she was comfortable, not lusting after her, not picturing how she looked when she climaxed.
He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath as she massaged his back with soap-covered hands in long, luxurious strokes, truly massaging him, not just washing. Her fingers eased knots, stretched muscles pliable. How long since someone had done something just for him? A very long time.
You don’t let anyone.
The voice in his head spoke the truth, and he was fine with it. He liked being on the move, and every new adventure. He didn’t like to be beholden to anyone. He liked doing his job, getting paid and going away, leaving it behind. He wasn’t going to be able to do that with Keri—with his child. They were his for life now.
“Am I pushing hard enough?” Keri asked, the heels of her hands pressing into his lower back and dragging down his spine.
“Yeah, it’s good.” Vulnerable women had always touched off a protective streak in him, but Keri’s vulnerability stemmed more from her pregnancy than her personality. In front of the kidnappers she’d held her own, been belligerent, even. It was only when she was alone with him after they’d let Escobar go that she’d shown her fear.
His memories finally shut down as her hands molded his rear, gliding with soapy ease, then her thumbs pushed into pressure points he didn’t know he had. He felt her belly brush against him now and then, keeping him mindful of her condition. He should take her back to bed, tuck her in and go sleep on the sofa, let her get some rest.
But the selfish side of him let her continue.
She eased him around to face her and soaped up his chest, taking her time, eventually running her hands over his abdomen until he couldn’t hold still any longer. Then she explored him, teased him, tormented him.
“I didn’t know if my memories were real,” she said, her strokes long and slow.
He sucked in a breath. “In what way?”
“You really are…as I remembered. It wasn’t just the heat of the moment.”
“You must not have much experience.”
She laughed. “I’ve had few lovers, but I’ve seen a lot of naked men in the course of my work.”
“Aroused?”
“You’d be surprised. It’s generally as embarrassing for them as it is for me.”
/> “And some are just flaunting it.”
“True.”
“Jerks.” The thought of it had him clenching his fists. That shouldn’t be part of her job. “How do you handle it?”
She laughed, low and sexy. “Interesting choice of words.”
“Answer the question.”
“If I think it’s unintentional, I act as if nothing’s happening. If I think they’re allowing it, I have someone else come into the room, like their wife or mother. That takes care of it. Generally it doesn’t happen twice.” She never looked at his face, but kept her head down, her shiny, wet hair reaching her shoulder blades.
He wanted to make love again, more slowly, more thoroughly, so he took control, plucking the bar of soap, reaching around her to wash her back, angling her belly to one side to keep her close. She made purring sounds, the vibration reverberating through him. He knew he couldn’t resist much longer….
Hell, it was just one night. Tomorrow things would go back to normal. He would talk to her, make sure she didn’t expect a marriage proposal because of this night, make sure she was okay with it. He’d go back to sleeping on the sofa, away from temptation.
Having made his decision, he gave in to that temptation. He switched their positions so that her back would stay warm in the shower, then he soaped her up, top to bottom. She made all the right sounds, all the right movements.
“Let’s go back to bed,” she said, her fingers pressing hard into his arms.
He turned off the shower and opened the sliding door to reach for the towel.
From behind him he heard her say, “Uh-oh.”
Chapter Eight
Keri met Jake’s gaze. “My water just broke,” she said, still feeling it trickle.
“Okay. What’s next?”
She liked that he didn’t show any signs of panic. “I’m going to hang out in here for a little while.”
“Do you want me to stay with you or get dressed?”
She clung to his calmness. “Do whatever you want. We’re not going anywhere. I haven’t had any contractions yet, and they could take hours to start. We won’t have to rush off.”