Falling for the Mom-to-Be

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Falling for the Mom-to-Be Page 12

by Lynne Marshall


  He realized even this procedure could be a bone of contention with those who opposed touching the burial ground in any way, but he also stressed it seemed the best compromise in this serious matter. And compromise was the bottom line.

  Then Lilly dropped a bomb by asking if he’d heard about the Maritime Museum group expedition discovering what seemed to be parts of a sunken ship up the coast of the Columbia River. Speculation was it might possibly be the pirate ship mentioned in the captain’s journals.

  “Are you serious?” What else could happen in the cluster of baffling revelations?

  Eyes big with excitement, she told him everything she knew.

  The discovery had happened just that morning, and she’d been on site scribbling notes before coming to interview him. His first thought was, he couldn’t wait to get home to tell Marta all about it. His second thought was, thank goodness, this might shift attention from the burial ground and divert some of the heat from his project.

  “While I have you here…” Lilly said, her classic almond eyes offset by her borderline punk–style haircut. “I know Gunnar has thanked you, but I wanted you to know how much I love the add-on. Ever since I saw the blueprint, I knew it would be a special house, already was, but the addition, well, wow. Just wow.”

  Leif smiled—for a writer, she’d gone minimalist—then nodded, filled with satisfaction. “Gunnar knew exactly what he wanted.”

  “He did. And now that we’re engaged, he’s given me the okay to make a request.”

  “You mean I’m not done yet?” he teased, his interest piqued over what might be next.

  “Nope.” Though in her early thirties, Lilly still had the enthusiasm of a teenager. She handed him a picture of a small Japanese tea pavilion with a pagoda-style roof and wood pillars. It sat in a yard thick with woods, exactly like Gunnar’s lot.

  “This is beautiful,” he said, excited about the chance to build something new and unique.

  “I’ve got all kinds of plans for a teahouse, right on down to the shoji panels and Zen garden. You think you can build this for us? My parents and grandmother would be honored by it.”

  “Sure. I’d love to.”

  Lilly hugged Leif. He’d gotten out of practice in the hugging department, but thanks to Marta, he relaxed and enjoyed it. Even hugged back.

  “One last thing,” Lilly said. “Gunnar and I are having a get-together this Saturday night at Lincoln’s Place to celebrate our engagement. We’re inviting a few people, and since most of them will be Gunnar’s friends, I’d love for you and Marta to come.”

  “That would be great,” he said without hesitation. “Thanks for asking.”

  Well, how about that? First Marta brings me back from the dead, and now the town counts me in as one of the living.

  It felt pretty damn good, too.

  *

  On Saturday night Marta emerged from her room looking nothing less than stunning. She’d pulled her hair back into a loose twist and wore extralarge gold double-hoop earrings. She divided a classic-cut white silk blouse and a full-length gold-textured satin skirt with a thick artisan leather belt. Gold Greek-style sandals spotlighted her bright red toenails.

  Leif swallowed hard, fighting the impulse to sweep her up and take her straight to his bed. “You look gorgeous.”

  “Why, thank you. You look pretty damn great yourself.”

  He’d cleaned up wearing dark slacks and a pale violet dress shirt opened at the throat and with the cuffs rolled to his forearms. He’d even put on his black dress shoes, after searching way in the back of his old walk-in closet to find them.

  Marta sauntered over to him and, careful not to mess her hair, he claimed her with a hand on the neck and a tug toward his mouth. They kissed long and tenderly, enough to jumble his brain cells. “You taste great, too,” he said, regretfully ending the kiss.

  Her caramel eyes looked dreamy and willing to do anything he asked. He loved that about her—knowing she wanted him as much as he wanted her. But she needed time with new friends and he wanted her to be happy. Breaking the moment, he glanced at his watch. “I guess we should go—”

  “Or we might get in trouble?”

  “You read my mind.”

  “It’s a gift.” She gave that saucy, confident expression that always got a rise out of him.

  *

  Cliff Lincoln had bought his restaurant after discovering Heartlandia while working as a chef on a cruise ship, and under his hand Lincoln’s Place had become the local hot spot. A favorite tourist stop, the town was often overrun by cruise-line guests, pumping much-needed business into local commerce. Tonight, Gunnar and Lilly had taken over the bar area with their private party, though dining was still up and running in the adjacent restaurant.

  “Hey, welcome, you guys.” Lilly rushed to greet Leif and Marta with a glass of champagne in her hand.

  Marta and Lilly hugged hello as Leif looked on smiling.

  Lilly wore a cute fluffy-skirted cocktail dress in lavender, with a tight, shiny, sequined top and extra-high silver platform shoes, and she still only came to Gunnar’s shoulder. Out of uniform, Gunnar looked rugged, like a younger version of Leif but with a whole lot more muscle mass. The man looked as if he could pull up a tree including the roots with his bare arms.

  Heartlandia certainly knew how to grow gorgeous men.

  “Help yourself to anything. It’s an open bar,” Gunnar said, already looking beyond to greet another couple. “Make yourselves at home,” he added, moving off.

  Leif asked the bartender for a draft beer for himself and club soda with a twist of lime for Marta. Drinks in hand, they roamed the room greeting folks; some were familiar faces and others she’d never seen before. They chatted and listened as someone told a joke that didn’t really compute for her, but she laughed politely anyway. Her eyes wandered.

  Elke, Gunnar’s sister, sat at the end of the bar by herself, and Marta looked around for Ben because she always saw them together and had jumped to conclusions. He was nowhere in sight.

  Marta slipped her hand out of Leif’s and went over to say hello. “Where’s Ben?”

  Elke looked puzzled. “I’m not sure.”

  Feeling she’d put her foot in her mouth, Marta was about to apologize.

  “He may stop by later, I think,” Elke continued, a finger rubbing the rim of her wineglass.

  “I see.” Marta had assumed they were a couple since she’d first seen them at the town meetings. They often passed meaningful looks back and forth. At least that was how Marta had interpreted them—meaningful with something more simmering just beneath the surface. Longing? Plus, she could have sworn she’d seen them hold hands once on campus.

  “We’re not dating or anything, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  Ah, another mind reader. Marta gave a playful grimace topped off with chagrin as she nodded. “I really sensed something between you. Excuse me.”

  A quick but definite wishful expression passed over Elke’s features. “He’s a great guy but doesn’t socialize much.”

  Marta made note of Elke dressed very unlike her usual self in a little black dress, actually showing some shoulder and hinting at cleavage. “Too bad he’ll miss seeing you like that. I think you look hot.”

  For a history professor who tended to imitate an old-school librarian in fashion, the change was refreshing, and Marta hoped Ben had the good sense to show up and get an eyeful.

  Elke smiled and blushed.

  From the corner of her vision, Marta saw an African-American man in a starched white chef shirt and pressed gray slacks, his cook’s hat sitting at a jaunty angle. “Is that Cliff Lincoln?”

  “Sure is,” Elke said, turning her wineglass round and round by the stem. That Ben better show up.

  Marta had learned all kinds of interesting tidbits about Cliff from her new friends Desi and Lilly. Like the fact that Cliff Lincoln, a Southern chef by nature, had started serving sushi after Lilly had kept hounding him about it. So tonigh
t’s table of appetizers not only included crawfish dip, fried green tomatoes, shrimp and grits and hot buffalo wings, but also California and rainbow rolls and assorted raw fish–style sushi bites.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to sample the goodies.” Being pregnant, Marta avoided the raw fish but discovered something called a punk roll with a tempura-fried green bean at the core, and a hand roll made with a seaweed wrap, vegetables and rice. They were both divine. To her surprise, the fried green tomatoes complemented the other food on her plate.

  The bar, filled with friends and a constant stream of cops, both off and on duty, was loud and congested. Marta hadn’t been to a party since Lawrence had celebrated his last birthday, and though the atmosphere was more exclusive for that, the camaraderie and goodwill in Cliff’s bar was far more enjoyable. But then, her mother’s death had put every part of her relationship with Lawrence in a new light.

  Thankful to have a smile put back on Marta’s face, she noticed Ben Cobowa had managed to sneak in under the radar. As he headed right for Elke, Marta saw the young woman’s face light up, and the sight warmed her heart. Maybe she was a mind reader after all.

  Desi and Kent arrived a little late, both with a fresh flush to their faces, making Marta wonder what they’d been up to before they’d gotten here.

  “Hi!” Desi called out, first hugging Lilly and Gunnar, then finding Marta. “You look gorgeous.”

  “Thanks. You’re looking hot yourself.”

  Desi’s tight red dress hugged her curves in all the right places, and from the admiring look in Kent’s eyes, he’d probably been the one to pick it out.

  “This little old thing?” Desi teased with an exaggerated Southern accent, then turned in a circle. “I only wear this when I don’t care how I look.” She’d quoted the sexy actress who’d played Violet from It’s a Wonderful Life to a T, making Marta laugh.

  Desi had told Marta while helping out at the mural that she’d grown up on the road with her mother playing piano bar in a Midwest hotel chain. Desi had also said she’d watched more than her share of old movies. Then they’d gotten into a contest over who could recite the most one-liners from all the classics. It had been a fun way to pass the afternoon painting, but Desi had won, hands down.

  Leif wandered over and put his arm around Marta’s waist. Funny how great that simple gesture made her feel. As if she belonged to him. More and more lately, she wanted to belong to him, but she figured that was more than she could ask any man while being pregnant. Especially a proud someone like Leif, who’d once wanted his own family but had had the chance taken from him.

  Desi’s bright diamond engagement ring sparkled in the bar lights, catching Marta’s eye. Was getting engaged the latest trend in Heartlandia? For an instant she let herself imagine how it might feel, then on an even greater whim, she pictured her mother’s expression, if she were still alive, when Marta showed her an engagement ring of her own.

  If you’re looking down, Momma, I know how happy that would make you.

  Cliff appeared at Desi’s side, looking proud to host the engagement party. Desi had told Marta he’d been a mentor and father figure since she’d arrived in town—that he’d encouraged her to stay and even had given her a job. Some people actually thought they were related. They hugged hello.

  Lilly rushed up to Cliff, popping some sushi into her mouth. “You did a great job on everything, especially the futomaki.”

  “What’d I tell you about cussing in public, young lady?” Cliff teased, pride spilling from his large black eyes in making one of the guests of honor happy.

  The circle of friends laughed. Marta loved being a part of everything, especially being here as Leif’s date.

  “What this party needs is some music,” Cliff said, shifting back to host mode and before Marta had the chance to go all melancholy. “Desi, you gonna play something?”

  She shook her head. “I’m here as a guest tonight, and besides, you’d have to pay me more for private parties.”

  “Is that so?” He looked at Desi with a father’s esteem, and Marta suddenly understood why Desi had asked him to walk her down the aisle in December.

  In a few short moments, Latin music carried over the speakers and a handful of couples began to dance. It was a salsa and Marta loved to dance, so she moved her hips to the beat the slightest bit, making her skirt sway this way and that. In an instant, a familiar hand was at her back.

  “Want to dance?” Leif said.

  Completely surprised by the offer, never in her wildest dreams thinking of Leif as a dancer, she grinned. “Of course!” What could she be getting herself into? No matter how he performed, she’d pretend she loved to dance with him.

  Expecting the worst but immediately pleased and dazzled by his smooth moves, Marta’s grin stretched even wider. “How’d you learn the salsa?”

  “Took some lessons. Sorry if I’m a little rusty.”

  “You did more than take lessons to dance like this. You’re a natural.”

  “Not that natural. The Danes aren’t exactly known for their dancing abilities.”

  She laughed softly, loving being with Leif, seeing him so much more relaxed than when she’d first met him. Moving with him. Thoroughly enjoying being out with friends in a new town, feeling the camaraderie and general goodwill from everyone. “So what’s your secret?”

  “Ellen made me take waltz lessons before we got married, and we enjoyed it so much we kept taking lessons. It kind of became our thing. Worked our way through the Latin dances, and the rest, as they say, is history.”

  Though he smiled as he swayed his hips to the beat, she waited and watched for that distant look that always followed when he spoke of his wife. Tonight she either missed it or he hid it well. All she could see on his face was joy and sexy blue eyes gazing only at her, undressing her one item of clothing at a time.

  Oh, God, this wasn’t at all how it was supposed to be when she’d told him they could help heal each other. She’d meant it strictly clinically, not emotionally. He guided her hips outward to the beat and twirled her, then tugged her back to his chest. She draped her arms over his shoulders and, on a high from the fun dance, whispered into his ear. “Now I know why you’re such a great lover.”

  He tilted his head back, eyes bright with a grin. “It’s all about the hips, baby.”

  You got that right. And the passion that drives those hips.

  The song ended and quickly morphed into a slow standard, and Leif pulled her close again. She knew, no matter how long she was back in Sedona, she’d never forget his musky leather scent and the strength of his arms whenever he held her. And all the potential she’d never get to see…

  *

  Naked. Tangled together. Leif still inside her. They snuggled after sex. Tonight had been particularly passionate. She thanked the hot Latin music they’d danced to all night. The best foreplay in the world.

  Completely undone from the climax, she lay limp, breathing shallowly.

  His hand came to rest on her stomach, where he rubbed lightly. He hadn’t forgotten for a second that she was pregnant, that much she knew. Even if he tried to forget, her belly grew each day, reminding him. This baby belongs to someone else. She’d hardly been able to buckle her belt tonight. He kissed her forehead and withdrew, then made a quick visit to the bathroom. Behind the closed door, she heard him hum a happy tune. She’d brought life back into his existence, and he’d helped her forget the blow to her ego from Lawrence. Lawrence who?

  And she was falling in love with Leif.

  It was true. She couldn’t deny it another second, even though it was the stupidest thing she’d ever done. Well, that, and wasting five years on a man who would never marry her. Why couldn’t a girl listen to her mother?

  *

  Sunday evening Marta and Leif worked side by side in the kitchen. She’d prepared an apple crumble ready to go into the oven, and he dazzled her with whipping up a salad, then led her outside while he cooked cedar-plank salm
on. He grilled it poolside on the designer barbecue. It was a chilly November evening and she wore her poncho to keep warm.

  The dogs cavorted around the yard, eventually wandering over to test the scent from the grill.

  “Sit,” Leif said. Chip and Dale did as they were told. One yellow and one black Lab sat patiently side by side while he balanced a baby carrot on both of their snouts. “Stay.” He stepped away. “Stay.” Leif glanced at Marta and grinned; her heart flipped and pulse shimmied. “Staaay.” He drew out the word.

  Saliva hung in strands from both dogs’ mouths, their patience weakening.

  “Take it,” Leif said, the dogs happily tossing the carrots into the air and, like magic, making them disappear.

  Marta clapped with delight, laughing lightly. “You think they even tasted them?” The dogs rushed to her to check if she had a goody for them, too. All they got was a loving pat.

  “Who knows, but they’d do that all day if I let them.” A satisfied-looking man, Leif lifted the top on the grill to check the salmon. “Originally, when my buddy told me he had two Lab puppies left, I told him I’d take just one. I wanted the yellow dog. But when I went to get him, I saw the two of them rolling around playing, and I didn’t have the heart to break them up. I decided they were a package deal and brought them both home. Smartest decision I ever made.” He rubbed Chip’s ears, then Dale’s. “Wasn’t it? Yeah.”

  So the guy had a heart for package deals. Might that give her hope for her own situation?

  When the fish was done, he placed it in a dish covered in aluminum. They trekked back toward the house, where a salad and quinoa awaited. It was time to put the dessert into the oven, too. Approaching the kitchen door, she felt a pang of longing that was anything but subtle. It felt like home here. In five years, she’d never come close to this feeling with Lawrence, yet she’d settled for it, telling herself it was the life she wanted. More than likely because her mother kept telling her it wasn’t.

 

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