The Pregnant Bride Wore White

by Susan Crosby

  Well, that could change tonight. There could be action galore, if she put to use the items in the gift bag Doc had given her a few minutes ago, which contained a CD called “Pure Romance,” a bottle of lubricant that warmed upon use and a box of ribbed condoms.

  She’d felt her face heat up when she peeked inside, and he’d laughed.

  Yes, she wanted to make love. Even now her body was aching with anticipation. She also needed to find accord with him. But enough to put off her rights as his wife?

  In the end, the answer was simple. Some needs trumped others.

  When she pulled into the driveway, Jake was sitting on the porch, rocking the baby in the new outdoor rocker her parents had given them before they left. Isabella’s eyes were open. She shifted her glance to Keri right away when she spoke, then smiled, her newest skill.

  “I’ll trade you,” Keri said to Jake, passing him Doc’s gift bag and taking their daughter from him.

  He opened it. He didn’t smile, just looked at her, his eyes saying everything.

  “He doesn’t want me to go on the pill yet,” she said, explaining what was perhaps obvious. “And while there’s only a small chance of pregnancy at this point, we probably shouldn’t take the risk.”

  “Now?” he asked, his gaze direct and intense.

  She wanted him to work for it a little, she decided. Both of them, actually. “Tonight.”

  “You’re a cruel-hearted woman, Keri McCoy,” he said, but he did finally smile, as if he would enjoy the whole day of anticipation, too.

  In a way it was her wedding night. She’d even bought a sexy negligee last week, worthy of a memory or two—or dare she hope for three?

  She smiled to herself. Yes, a girl could always hope.

  Timing was everything, Jake thought, when you had a breastfeeding infant in the house. Last night, Isabella had slept from around ten until six in the morning. He and Keri had made the decision to move the baby into the office, now nursery, and were rewarded for their nervousness with a full night’s sleep—if one didn’t count all the times they woke up and checked on her. In the morning, they’d toasted each other with glasses of orange juice to whomever had invented the baby monitor.

  But tonight was different. Jake took a shower while Keri fed Isabella around nine-thirty, then he took over, walking her to sleep and putting her to bed while Keri showered. He wished it was winter so that he could light a fire for ambiance. Instead he stood next to the CD player, and the second she opened the bathroom door he started the music. Personally he would’ve preferred something other than violins, but at this point he doubted he would even hear it for long.

  Keri appeared in the doorway, looking a little tentative—and incredibly hot. She wore a long, red, almost see-through gown, her breasts two tempting mounds above the low-cut bodice. Her nipples were hard, their silhouettes visible. He wore plain black pajama bottoms he’d dug out of a drawer, not remembering why he even owned them, anticipating the moment when she would untie them and let them fall.

  She didn’t come toward him, so he went to her, took her hand and pulled her along with him into a space he’d cleared in the living room so they could dance.

  He took her in his arms and moved with her. “You are so beautiful,” he said, her hair drifting down his chest, her warm breath dusting his neck.

  She snuggled closer, tucked her head against him. “So are you.”

  He slid his arms down her back and drew her even closer.

  “I think you’re happy to see me,” she said, her hips moving against him, a smile in her voice.

  “I’ve been happy to see you since the day I met you.”

  She moved her arms from around his neck, angling back a little to put enough room between them to let her fingers explore his chest, pressing a kiss here and there.

  “You smell good,” he said, nuzzling her hair.

  “You don’t like my regular scent? Eau de infant?”

  He laughed low. “I like that scent fine. But at the moment, you don’t seem like anyone’s mother.”

  He could tell he’d said the right thing. She stopped smiling, her eyes turned dark and full of temptation, her lips opening a little, luscious and in need of kissing….

  She tasted like a dream, responded like a fantasy. She spoke about need and want and forever, the words breathless and jumbled. He could’ve taken her right there, on the floor or on the sofa, but he lifted her and took her to their bedroom as she licked his neck, sending chills all through him.

  He’d already folded back the bedding, lit several candles. He couldn’t remember ever being this anxious before, wanting to please so much. He was trembling when he set her down next to the bed, cupped her face and kissed her. Her fingers dug into his rear. He’d had some grand notion that he would be able to sustain foreplay, to make it last for a long time.

  Foolish notion.

  Apparently she had no desire to wait any longer, either, because she moved away slightly, put her fingers on the drawstring of his pajamas and pulled, the whisper of fabric making him suck in a quick breath. The garment pooled at his feet. He let her take the lead—just for the moment….

  Keri admired him for several seconds without touching, taking her time to enjoy the sight. “I can’t wait to feel you inside me.”

  He groaned. A second later, her gown had joined his pajamas. She had a passing thought about her not-yet-firm belly then discarded it when he bent to kiss her there, then he moved his hands all over her, a slow, gentle tease from head to toe, as if she’d needed any teasing at all. The second time could be slow. This time she just needed.

  They moved onto the bed, twined around each other, their hearts beating loud enough to feel each other’s, a double rhythm. I love you. She wanted to tell him, ached to hear him say the same words. But what she said was, “Hurry.”

  He didn’t keep her waiting. The feel of his hot skin against hers, and the spiraling pleasure of him filling her, caressing her from the inside, was like nothing she’d known. Real sex. Beautiful sex. Making love. Yes, making love, utterly and completely. His arms enveloping her, his body covering and moving in a way that comforted and thrilled until there was no more time to think. Her mind emptied, shattered by the explosion inside her, every color of the rainbow bursting behind her eyes. Then the flattering and satisfying recognition that he had joined her in the celebration.

  The wait was over—and worth it.

  Jake didn’t have words to describe how he felt. He rolled onto his side, taking her with him, pulling her as close as he could. He felt her breath, warm and shaky, against his chest, and her head beneath his chin, her hair soft and fragrant, her skin dewy.

  This changes everything..

  Maybe everything was too big of a word, but a lot would be different now. He hadn’t wanted to care deeply about her before, because he’d known he wouldn’t give up his work, and he didn’t think he’d ever meet a woman who could adapt to his life—until now. In the end, he hadn’t even had to make a decision about if or who. The decision had been made for him that night in a cell in Venezuela, when he’d only sought to comfort her and it had escalated into lovemaking that had resulted in Isabella.

  He wouldn’t go so far as to say it was meant to be, but he was beginning to believe a little in fate.

  He was also ready to get back to work and was grateful they’d found accord with each other in time for him to accept a new assignment. He understood that she loved Chance City, and it would always be their home base, but work and his subsequent fulfillment meant being where the action was.

  “Are you awake?” he asked, summoning the strength to speak.

  “I took a nap this afternoon for a reason.” She sounded drowsy and sexy. “I don’t plan to sleep again for a while. Do you?”

  She angled back so that he was able to see her expression. “You look just like Isabella after she’s eaten,” he said, kissing her. “Satisfied.”

  “For the moment.”

  He raised his brow
s.

  “I expect you’ll find me pretty demanding.” She bit lightly into his shoulder, an enticing nip, then launched into a long, sexy commentary in Spanish about what she intended to do to him the rest of the night.

  He returned the favor in French.

  “I think you just told me how to build a car,” she said.

  He hadn’t, but then he did just that, giving it a sensual lilt and spreading kisses over her at the same time, an apparent promise of more sex but instead talking about axels, transmissions and drive shafts.

  “Votre arbre d’unité est très agréable,” she said in a singularly sexy voice. Your drive shaft is very nice.

  He laughed in surprise at her perfect French. “I’m glad you think so. And just how many languages do you speak, Mrs. McCoy?”

  “Eight. I learned French in Cameroon.”

  “So you trump my seven. Why didn’t you mention it?”

  “To take advantage of a moment like this,” she said, grinning.

  It was good to see her lighthearted and at ease. He felt the same, although experience had proven that such things often preceded disaster of some kind in his life. He hoped not this time. He wanted this to last.

  “Stay put,” he said, climbing out of bed. “I’ll be right back.”

  He peeked into Isabella’s room, the hall light just enough to see her. He gently rested his hand on her chest, feeling it rise and fall. Her lower lip moved as if nursing. He didn’t have to guess what she was dreaming about. He would probably have a similar dream himself tonight.

  Smiling, he headed into the kitchen, grabbed a box from the refrigerator that he’d told Keri she couldn’t open, two forks, two wedding-gift crystal flutes and a bottle of sparkling cider he’d hidden in a paper bag. Champagne would’ve been nice to celebrate the occasion, but he knew Keri—no matter what any expert said, she wouldn’t take even a sip of something alcoholic while she was still nursing.

  He was surprised to find her exactly where he’d left her. He’d expected her to get up and check on the baby herself, or even just pull the sheet over her, but she was still stretched out, gloriously naked, candlelight flickering over her.

  “Are you going to keep your hair long?” he asked, admiring how it flowed over her shoulders, a shiny lock coiling above one breast like an invitation to kiss it.

  “I’ve been debating. I do like being able to clip it out of my way. Do you have a preference?”

  “Like this.”

  “I figured. That’s what I’ll do. For now.”

  He laughed. She never let him get the upper hand, and he liked that about her, how she kept him on his toes.

  Jake grabbed a bed tray leaning against the nightstand and managed to set everything on it. He opened the cider and poured, passing her one flute. She sat up, started to drag the sheet into her lap. He stopped her, just shook his head and then held up his glass to her.

  “To you, and new beginnings,” he said.

  She looked as if she were going to add something but then tapped her glass to his and took a sip. He wondered, though, what she would’ve said—and why it was important to him. She wasn’t shy. She talked a lot, in fact, but he’d come to realize she kept a lot to herself, too. She spoke about life and the world, but she rarely said how she felt about life and the world. Him. Their marriage.

  “What’s in the box?” she asked.

  He lifted the lid and pulled out the pie inside, placing it on the tray.

  Her face lit up. “Key lime! My absolute favorite. How did you know?”

  “Honey.”

  “Oh, and she makes the best.” Keri dove her fork into the pie and took a huge bite, her eyes closing, her expression one of immense pleasure.

  Everything about her turned him on. He’d fought it—just a little—but now accepted that fact. Even the way she ate pie.

  Keri noticed his response and raised her brows.

  “How does it make you to feel, knowing you do that to me so easily?” he asked, scooping up a bite for himself.

  “Happy. Relieved. Powerful,” she added before she took another bite and savored it in a way that seemed utterly erotic to him. “You have the same effect on me.”

  They teased each other a little longer, finally able to take a little time to enjoy the touches and caresses, the curves and planes of each other’s bodies, the hidden and unhidden places that brought instant response and, finally, the same enormous satisfaction.

  Life was good.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Three days had passed since their “wedding night.” They’d been insatiable since then, taking advantage of Isabella’s naps as well as enjoying the nights. Everyone else had seemed to look at their calendars and left them alone. They hadn’t gone anywhere, and no one dropped by, only called, hints of “I know what you’ve been up to” in their voices. Keri didn’t care. She was in love from her head to her toes, and everywhere in between was being satisfied completely.

  Then Jake dropped a bomb as they sat down to dinner. “I have to go out of town tomorrow.”

  Keri’s previous contentment shattered into a million fragments. “You’re going away?” Her mouth went dry. Her heart thudded.

  “It’s a short trip,” Jake answered, stabbing a piece of chicken and setting Isabella’s bouncy chair into motion again when she looked ready to cry. “No more than a week.”

  “Where?”

  “Costa Rica.”

  A safe enough place. Generally. Nowhere seemed safe to Keri anymore. “What will you be doing?”

  “Preliminary plans for a security overhaul for an appliance manufacturer’s home and factory.”

  She’d avoided thinking about him going anywhere. Had almost convinced herself he wouldn’t leave, even as she was aware of his pent-up energy and his excitement when he talked to his partners. His head was back in the game, and he was happy. Happy to be sleeping with her, too, but that wasn’t his whole life. He needed it all.

  He reached across the dining table and took her hand. “Keri?”

  “What?”

  “I’ll come back.”

  “You’d better.”

  “You knew this day was coming,” he said gently.

  Her appetite disappeared. She looked at Isabella, who was smiling as Jake made faces at her. She was so close to laughing for the first time….

  What if she laughed while Jake was gone? And how many other firsts would he miss?

  “I’m sorry.” She pushed away from the table. “I need to go for a walk. Alone, okay?”

  He eyed her steadily. “Take your cell phone.”

  “I will.” She grabbed her phone and a couple of tissues, just in case, and headed up the driveway. She walked and walked, until she saw the path down to his favorite fishing hole and detoured there. It was late June, and although it was dinnertime, she had a couple of hours of daylight left.

  She recognized the sprawling oak tree from their last visit and decided not to sit there, instead continuing down to the river. She dipped her hand in the water, still cold and running fast. Another couple of months and it should be warm enough to bring Isabella to dangle her feet. What would she think? Would she laugh? Holler? Need her popsicle toes kissed to warm them?

  How much time would the two of them spend on their own? Yes, Keri had known this was coming, as Jake reminded her. She’d been worried for weeks. But his leaving hadn’t been a reality until he’d voiced the words out loud.

  Now she knew how far beyond worried she was.

  She was terrified.

  He’d helped bring down a kidnapping ring, including the offshoot that had taken him. Them. He might have enemies who would pay for information on him. She didn’t know if she could ever get used to it.

  “Hey! If it isn’t my favorite sister-in-law.” Donovan trudged toward her, fishing pole in hand, a creel slung over his shoulder.

  She made herself smile. “Your only sister-in-law.”

  “You’re quibbling.” He stopped short of her and frown
ed. “You’ve been crying.”

  “No, I haven’t. I think I’m allergic to something around here.”

  He crossed his arms. “If you want me to trust you, as you said, you need to be honest with me.”

  She mirrored his pose. “I don’t recall telling you I want you to trust me. I said you didn’t trust me.”

  “Splitting hairs.” He held up his hands in surrender. “Anyway, I do trust you. And like you. I think you’re good for my brother.”

  “He’s leaving.” A hot lump in her throat had her swallowing hard and fast.

  “Ah.”

  She studied the landscape that she’d come to love. “Have you ever been in love, Donovan?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why aren’t you with her?”

  “Anne only loved her career.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s been years. I’m long over it. But thanks.” He moved downstream a few feet and cast his spinner into the river.

  “Jake loves his career,” she said to his back.

  “You can’t compare Jake and Anne. He made a commitment to you and Isabella.”

  Such as it was, she thought. He married her, yes, but he’d done it for his family, to respect the McCoy traditions. Certainly he was good to her. Kind. Thoughtful.

  Passionate.

  But she wanted more. She wanted love.

  “How’d you get over her?” she asked. “Anne.”

  “Decided to.”

  Love is a decision, Nana Mae, too, had said. “It couldn’t be that simple.”

  He pondered that. “Yeah, it was, pretty much. I’m not one to hang on to a useless cause. If it’s not working, walk away.”

  “I don’t know if that’s sensible or just cold.”

  “I’ve been accused of the latter. Doesn’t bother me.”

  “Why have you been hanging around, Donovan? Word is you’re never here for more than a few days at a time, like Jake. Although Jake at least owns a cabin. You’ve been here for almost two months.”

  “Having fun driving Joe crazy,” he said with a grin. “He’s used to his peace and quiet.”

  “You haven’t stayed just to drive Joe crazy. I would never buy that.”