Friends, Lovers...And Babies! (The Baby Bet #2)

by Joan Elliott Pickart

  But when Ryan awoke hours later, his fury returned in full force.

  The first thought he’d had, the first vision he’d seen in his mind when he woke up, had been of Deedee.

  Chapter Three

  “Here you are,” Deedee said, handing a woman a plastic bag. “I hope you enjoy the books.”

  “Oh, I will,” the woman said, smiling. “My husband has gone to a business conference for three days in Colorado. I plan to light a fire in the hearth, curl up with my cat and a warm afghan and not budge. These books will be the frosting on my ‘it’s my turn for me’ cake.”

  “That sounds marvelous,” Deedee said, returning the woman’s smile.

  “Don’t misunderstand me, dear. I love my husband every bit, if not more, than when I married him thirty-six years ago. But I’ve learned that if I indulge myself, pamper myself, when he goes away like this, my emotional batteries get recharged. And I’m so very glad to see him when he arrives home.”

  “You’re a wise woman,” Deedee said, nodding.

  “My dear,” she said, laughing, “I truly believe that women in general are far wiser than men. Well, goodbye for now.”

  “Goodbye.”

  A frown replaced Deedee’s smile as she watched the woman leave the store.

  Thirty-six years, she mused. When that woman had spoken of her husband coming home, love had shone in her eyes, on her face. That couple had been married longer than she, herself, had been on this earth. Incredible. What would it be like to literally spend a lifetime with a man, a soul mate? How glorious it must be to have a forever with a special someone.

  Deedee shook her head slightly in self-disgust.

  Where were these strange thoughts coming from? During the years since her husband, Jim, had been killed, she’d intentionally avoided any serious relationships with men. She’d considered her options carefully, weighed and measured, sifted and sorted, and decided never to remarry.

  What she’d shared with Jim, albeit for a short time, had been rare and beautiful. Love like that, she was convinced, didn’t happen twice. Rather than settle for less than what she’d had, she had focused on starting her own business with Jim’s insurance money.

  She was a dedicated career woman, and had been for a long time. Her life-style suited her perfectly, and she was content and fulfilled. She dated regularly, had wonderful friends and even a family in the form of the MacAllister clan.

  Her own parents had passed away within months of each other seven years ago. She’d been widowed for three years then, and the loss of her parents had been devastating. Once again she’d had to reach deep within herself for the strength to cope with her grief.

  Why was she dwelling on the past today? Deedee wondered. She really didn’t know, but she’d felt a strange chill of loneliness within her as the customer had spoken of the love for her husband of thirty-six years.

  Loneliness? That was absurd. Deedee was not lonely. She wasn’t a single woman by default, but by choice. She had her existence established exactly the way she wanted it. The MacAllisters were even adding more babies to the ever-growing family, babies she could spoil rotten in her role of Aunt Deedee.

  No, that hadn’t really been loneliness she’d registered, it was merely fatigue. She was exhausted, because she hadn’t slept well the night before. It was very unusual for her to toss and turn, but she’d spent a restless night, only dozing, then waking again. No, she hadn’t slept well at all because…

  Deedee sighed.

  Because she’d been thinking about Ryan MacAllister.

  There, she’d admitted it.

  She glanced at the clock on the wall.

  It had taken her until 1:16 in the afternoon to square off against the ridiculous truth, but now she’d done it. She’d been consumed through the seemingly endless night by thoughts and images of Ryan.

  Like a silly teenager, she’d been unable to keep herself from replaying in her mind every moment she’d spent with Ryan at the twins’ birthday party.

  “Dumb,” she said under her breath.

  She retrieved a dust cloth from beneath the counter and marched across the room to dust books that didn’t need dusting.

  Because of her asinine performance of the night before, she’d been reluctant to telephone Ryan’s office today to make an appointment with him to come to Books and Books and determine the best security system to protect her collection of rare books.

  She now realized she’d been harboring the irrational idea that if she came face-to-face with Ryan, he’d instantly know that her mind had been centered on him through the night.

  Even worse, she’d somehow telegraph to him the fact that more than once during those hours she’d experienced the heated thrum of desire pulsing low in her body.

  “Dumb, dumb, dumb,” she said to a cookbook. “He’d never know how infantile I’d been.”

  Well, now wait a minute.

  She stopped, holding the dust cloth in midair and staring into space.

  Maybe she was being too hard on herself. It was…healthy—yes, she liked that conclusion—that she had a normal, womanly, although a tad wanton, reaction to an extremely handsome, virile, masculinity-personified man.

  As long as she didn’t tear her clothes off and leap into Ryan’s arms when she saw him again, she decided with a smile, there was no harm done. Her restless night simply reaffirmed that she was alive and kicking. Healthy.

  The next encounter with Ryan would prove without a doubt that she was over her momentary femaleto-male reaction to him, and everything would be status quo.

  She was perfectly fine now, as a matter of fact, and would confirm that knowledge by telephoning him at his office as she should have done the moment she arrived at the store that morning.

  With a decisive nod and the self-assurance that she’d logically explained and could therefore dismiss her bizarre and sleepless night, Deedee started back across the room, her destination being the telephone.

  When she was within four feet of the counter, the door opened, accompanied by the tinkling of the brass bell above it. She turned with a smile to greet the customer, then froze, the smile disappearing into oblivion.

  Ryan MacAllister had just entered Books and Books.

  Ryan closed the door, but didn’t move forward. Their eyes met. Neither spoke.

  Ah, damn, Ryan fumed. His grand plan had just gone up in the smoke being created by the heated desire rocketing through him.

  After being wired and edgy the entire morning, and still unable to dismiss Deedee Hamilton from his mind, he’d decided to confront her in person. The encounter, he was certain, would get him safely back on track. Deedee would once again become the friendly, attractive woman he’d known for several years, with no major role or impact whatsoever on his life.

  He had a legitimate excuse to come to Books and Books. Deedee had expressed the wish to discuss business with him, but he’d been called away before they’d talked about what was on her agenda. He was being an efficient executive by following through on her request.

  So there he was, standing in her store, fully prepared to breathe a sigh of relief that whatever nonsense had possessed him during the hideous night before was actually long since gone.

  Instead…? His blood was pounding in his veins, his heart was beating like a bongo drum and he had a nearly overpowering urge to cross the room, haul Deedee into his arms and kiss her senseless.

  Damn it to hell, what was this woman doing to him?

  A deep frown settled over Ryan’s features as he swept his gaze around the spacious, attractive store.

  “Nice place,” he said gruffly.

  Deedee gave herself a mental shake, ordered her heart to slow its racing pace and plastered what she hoped would appear to be a normal friendly smile on her face.

  Suddenly remembering her irrational thought that Ryan would be able to peer into her brain and see how she’d spent the night, she blushed. The warm flush on her cheeks caused her to silently moan in embarrassmen
t.

  Oh, Deedee, she begged herself, please get it together.

  “Hello?” Ryan said.

  “Oh. Thank you for the compliment about the store. I’m very proud of Books and Books.”

  She hurried across the room, deciding to put the counter between her and Ryan, hoping to feel less vulnerable and exposed.

  “I was just going to call you, Ryan,” she said, smiling brightly. “You must have been reading my mind.” Oh, good grief, what a dumb thing to say. He’d better not be reading her mind. “I appreciate your coming by.”

  “You said at the twins’ party that you wanted to discuss business,” he said with no hint of a smile, “but we didn’t have a chance to do so.” He shrugged. “So here I am, ready to discuss business.”

  Yes, Deedee thought, there he was, gorgeous as all get-out and grumpy. There was no evidence of the warm, friendly, relaxed Ryan of yesterday emanating from the man standing before her now. If this was his business demeanor, it was a miracle that he had so many customers. Well, fine. Two could play at this game.

  “I wish to have a cost estimate done,” she said, lifting her chin, “on an upgraded security system. As you can see, I’ve had cabinets custom-made with locks and wired glass to protect my rare books. The landlord has installed an alarm system that sets off a siren if exterior doors or windows are forced open.”

  “Mmm,” Ryan said, nodding. He walked slowly across the room to stand opposite her at the counter. “Let me guess. All the shops on this block have the same system, and they go off at the slightest provocation. For example, if a heavy truck is driven down the street. No one pays any attention to the sirens because of all the false alerts.”

  “That’s correct.” She folded her hands primly on top of the counter. “My rare-book collection has grown considerably over the past few years and is very valuable. I want to protect those books more effectively and efficiently.”

  Ryan narrowed his eyes. “Is there some reason you’re talking like a schoolteacher lecturing a classroom full of kids who aren’t paying much attention? You sound stuffy as hell.”

  “Well, I beg your humble pardon,” she said, planting her hands on her hips. “I was merely matching the tone you set when you came through that door. Not stuffy, Mr. MacAllister. Grumpy.”

  “Grumpy?” he repeated, then laughed in spite of himself. “Now that is a great word.” He shook his head, still smiling. “Grumpy.”

  The rich timbre of Ryan’s oh-so-male laughter had the now-familiar effect on Deedee, and she felt the rush of heat swirling within her. While she’d decided her feminine reaction to Ryan’s masculinity was healthy, it was becoming extremely unsettling and definitely annoying.

  “Yes, well,” she said, poking her nose in the air, “you were grumpy when you arrived. You were not in a frame of mind befitting a professional businessman.”

  “Want a sample of my cop mode?” he said, grinning. “I could give you a demonstration of my ‘Up against the wall, scum,’ that goes far beyond grumpy.”

  “No,” she said, unable to curb her bubbling laughter any longer. “I’ll pass on that one, thank you.”

  They continued to look at each other, sharing their smiles and savoring the warmth of the moment. Then slowly, so slowly, their smiles faded as the sensuality simmering beneath the warmth grew stronger, weaving around and through them, changing the comforting warmth into licking flames of heated desire.

  Deedee’s breasts were heavy, achy, yearning for a soothing caress. Her heart was pounding, and somewhere in her hazy mind she had the irrational thought that surely Ryan could hear its rapid tempo.

  Everything seemed magnified, heightened. She was strangely aware of the feel of the soft curls of her hair against her cheeks and neck, of the gentle slope of her hips and buttocks and of the pulsing heat deep within her femininity.

  From a source unknown, a little voice began to whisper to her, gaining volume as it insisted on being heeded.

  Deedee, wake up. Ryan is dangerous. He’s a threat to your peace of mind and the path you’ve chosen to walk in your life. Wake up.

  She tore her gaze from his and took a step backward, wrapping her hands around her elbows in a protective gesture.

  Ryan shook his head slightly to dispel the lingering, passion-laden fog that had consumed his sense of reality. He had been thrown off-kilter by Deedee Hamilton yet again. He knew it, and didn’t like the fact, not one damn bit. He was, to quote Ms. Hamilton, now definitely grumpy.

  “Hell,” he said, running a restless hand over the back of his neck. “This is nuts. We’re rather old to be experiencing hormone wars and unbridled lust. Enough is enough here.”

  Lust? Deedee’s mind echoed. What an awful, unappealing word to describe the sensations she’d felt. Ryan was frowning again, retreating behind his walls, being grumpy to the max.

  Lust? Ryan was right, of course, she mused on. That’s all it could be, as there certainly weren’t any romantic emotions involved in what kept happening between them. This was a classic case of chemical attraction, or some such thing. But wasn’t there a more gentle word than lust?

  “Did you hear what I said, Deedee?” Ryan said. “I don’t want any part of…” He stopped speaking for a moment, searching his mind for a suitable description, then giving up the futile attempt. “I don’t want any part of whatever this is!”

  “You don’t have to yell about it,” she said, glaring at him.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled.

  “Unbridled lust,” she said with a cluck of disgust. “You’re so eloquent, Mr. MacAllister.”

  “Well, what would you call it?” he said, matching her glower.

  “I don’t know. But I wouldn’t describe it with something as tacky as lust.”

  “This,” he said, pointing one long finger at her, “is an asinine conversation.”

  “Don’t point that thing at me, it has a nail in it.” She paused. “That was a joke, Ryan. You know, those funny little things people say so that other people will smile? Oh, forget it. You probably used up a year’s quota of smiles at the twins’ party, and now you’re stuck on automatic grumpy, sullen, cold…all of the above.”

  “That’s a lousy thing to say,” he protested.

  “It’s right up there with ‘unbridled lust,’ mister.”

  Ryan opened his mouth to retort, then closed it again. When he finally spoke, there was a nondescript expression on his face and his voice had a pleasant tone to it.

  “I can’t help wondering,” he said, “what that customer who’s around the corner there is thinking about this chat we’re having.”

  Deedee’s eyes widened in horror and her hands flew to her cheeks.

  “Oh, no,” she whispered. “Don’t tell me there’s someone in here. I could have sworn I was alone when you arrived. Oh, my word, how embarrassing. Ryan, please say it isn’t true.”

  He leaned toward her. “It isn’t true,” he said, matching her whisper for whisper.

  “You rat,” she said with a burst of laughter. “I believed you.”

  “You bought it, all right,” he said, chuckling. “Even the freckles on your nose were blushing.” He paused. “Deedee, look, let’s start over. I just now came into the store. Okay? I’m here to discuss the possibility of upgrading your security system. As for the other…Well, we’ll forget it. It won’t happen again. It wasn’t important. Agreed?”

  Deedee nodded, while telling herself that what Ryan had just said made perfect sense, and was the best solution for moving past what had transpired between them. She was not registering a sense of disappointment at his having said, “It wasn’t important.” No, of course, she wasn’t. It was just that…Oh, Deedee, shut up.

  “Deedee, do you agree?”

  “What? Oh, yes, certainly.” She waved one hand breezily in the air. “As you said, it wasn’t important.” She cleared her throat. “Now then, let’s talk about protecting me from…” You! “What I mean is, protecting my rare books and keeping them from being sto
len.”

  “Right. First I need to look at the system you have now, then go from there. I want to check the electrical box. Where’s your back door?”

  Before Deedee could reply, a woman in her sixties entered the store.

  “Hello,” Deedee said, smiling. “May I help you find something, or would you prefer to browse?”

  “I’m looking for a book on butterflies,” the woman said. “It’s for my grandson, who is about to celebrate his tenth birthday. He’s fascinated by butterflies.”

  “Let me show you what we have in the children’s section,” Deedee said. “Ryan, the back door is through the storeroom, around the corner there.”

  “I’ll find it,” he said.

  Ryan watched as Deedee came from behind the counter, then joined the woman. As the pair walked across the room, he let out a pent-up breath.

  Butterflies? he mentally fumed. A woman comes into the store at exactly that moment and wants a book about butterflies?

  Damn, the dream he’d had about Deedee the night before was rolling across his mental vision like a movie he had no way to stop.

  There was Deedee, dancing with the butterflies. There was Deedee, looking like a vision of loveliness. There was Deedee, beckoning to him.

  I’m a butterfly, Ryan. Catch me if you can. Then I’ll be yours. We’ll make love, here, in the beautiful flowers beneath the blue sky. There will be only the two of us, together. Forever, Ryan. Forever, forever, forever.

  Ah, man, he thought, dragging both hands down his face. Deedee Hamilton was driving him crazy. He had to get out of the store and away from that woman.

  With heavy steps, he strode to the storeroom, taking a small notebook and a pen from his shirt pocket as he went. He entered the storeroom and closed the door behind him.

  Deedee slid a glance in the direction Ryan had gone, then redirected her attention to the woman next to her after he disappeared from view.

  “Why don’t I leave you to look through the various books on butterflies at your leisure?” Deedee said. “I’ll be at the counter if you have any questions.”