“What I’d really like is to go with you,” she said wistfully. “You know, just be normal together.”
“Hey,” he said, instantly by her side. “What could be more normal than us?”
“Whoa—” She gripped her belly. “I was beginning to think I was dreaming this, but I swear the baby has started kicking more whenever you’re beside me.”
“No way,” he said, cupping his hand over her belly’s peak. Further proving her point, the baby kicked. Twice! “Holy crap. Make him do it again.”
“Dane, I can’t order him to kick for you.”
“I know,” he said, “but you said this has happened before, right?”
“Well, yes, but it’s not on command.”
“But you really think he knows me?” She’d never seen Dane so excited, which in turn made her feel the same. “So, like, after he’s born, he’ll recognize me?”
“According to the books, that’s what happens,” she said, putting her hand over his.
The baby kicked again. This time for both of them.
Their gazes locked, and if Gabby’s heart hadn’t been beating so fast, she’d have sworn it stopped. She felt disconnected from herself—as if she were conscious in a dream.
“I should get going,” he said.
She nodded. Please kiss me first.
“So, I’m just going to go.”
“Bye…”
He moved in closer and closer until his breath warmed her lips. “I’m leaving.” Closer and closer. And then he stopped, lightly shook his head and slowly broke her heart by backing away. “Be right back, ’kay?”
Swallowing a knot of disappointment, she nodded.
“WAKE UP, PRINCESS GABBY.”
When Gabrielle just murmured in her sleep and rolled over, Dane fought the urge to climb into bed beside her, hold her close and see if the baby would kick for him again.
Instead, he sat on the bed, just drinking in the sight of her. Four or five weeks, and then all of this would end. She’d no longer have need of him. Oh sure, he’d help out with the baby every once in a while, but he wouldn’t live here. Things wouldn’t be like they were now. Like they were a couple.
She stirred. “Dane?”
“You were expecting someone else?”
Her voice all sleepy-sexy, she laughed. “Maybe. I never know when Brad Pitt might stop by.”
“Mmm-hmm. He’d better not.”
“Or what?” she teased. “You going to challenge him to a duel for my honor?”
“You never know,” he said with a shrug. “What I do know is that I have two gorgeous T-bones ready to go on the grill. Hungry?”
“Starved.” Holding out her arms, she said, “Carry me to the deck? I can recline on one of the lounge chairs.”
“I would, but while I was heading home from the store, I heard thunder.”
“I haven’t. Please?” She wiggled her fingers. “I promise if it rains, you can haul me right back in.”
“Gee, thanks,” he said, already scooping her into his arms. “It’d be my pleasure.”
Twenty minutes later, Dane had installed Gabrielle in a lounger and started the grill. The scent alone had his stomach growling. Far-off thunder rumbled and the sky looked grouchy but dry.
“It’s nice out here,” Gabrielle said.
“If you like muggy and buggy,” he complained, swatting at a fly. Gabrielle’s backyard was lush and overgrown; the oaks and maples had arched together, forming a canopy of green. “Your grass needs mowing. Your neighbor to the south has been doing the front.”
“How sweet. I wish he’d come inside for a sec so I could thank him.”
Shaking seasoned salt on the steaks, Dane said, “In a little over a month, you can thank him yourself.”
“Oh, yeah,” she said with a wide grin. “I forgot.”
“You’re a mess.” Before putting the steaks on the grill, he swatted at another fly.
“And you’re great for my ego.” She stuck out her tongue.
“Sorry. I’m a judge—sworn to tell the truth.”
She rolled her eyes.
They kept up their banter until the steaks were done. Dane put them on a clean plate, covered it with foil, then removed the foil from the pan of zucchini he’d already sliced lengthwise and soaked in olive oil and a few spices while Gabrielle had finished her nap.
“That’s pretty fancy,” Gabrielle said as Dane placed the thick slices on the grill. “Why haven’t you shown off these skills before?”
“You’ve never asked. Prior to tonight, I thought mozzarella and butter were the only food groups you enjoy.”
Feigning a growl, she said, “You’d better be glad I’m still stuck lying down or you’d get it, buster.”
“Oooooh, I’m so scared.” As if on cue thunder rolled. “Damn,” he said, grinning toward the sky, “I couldn’t have planned that better.”
“You’re the one who’s a mess,” she teased. “At least I’m not talking to the heavens.”
The argument over who was the bigger mess continued until more ominous thunder forced him to hurry. “If it starts raining, want me to save you or dinner?”
“Dinner,” she said without hesitation. “You can’t towel-dry that delicious-smelling zucchini.”
He nodded. “Duly noted.”
Dane had just taken the last of the vegetables from the grill when the sky opened.
“Save the steak!” Gabrielle shrieked, holding the seat cushion from the chair beside her over her head. She was laughing and already soaked, as was he. Per her request, he ran dinner inside before returning for her, but just as he was opening the back door, she tottered her way inside.
“What are you doing up?” he scolded, holding the door open, urging her inside.
“It dawned on me that I am able to walk, I’m just not supposed to. But seeing how I have to use the bathroom anyway, I figured what would a few more steps hurt?” Dripping wet, her hair hanging in inky rivulets on her shoulders, she grinned up at him.
“You do know I’m going to have to yell at you, right?”
“Not necessarily,” she said, already heading for the bathroom. “You could pretend you don’t see me.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “The old invisible-pregnant-lady trick. Works every time.”
“If I weren’t so wet and miserable, I’d stop to let you have it.” In the house’s air-conditioned chill, her teeth chattered.
“Yeah, well, hold that thought while we get you into dry clothes.”
Urging her to have a seat on the closed toilet lid, he wrapped one towel around her head, and then handed her another. “Don’t move. I’ll be back.”
“You’re wet, too,” she pointed out, teeth still chattering.
“You think?” After dragging off his wet T-shirt, he tossed it in the sink.
Gabrielle followed suit.
“What’re you doing?” She sat there in her bra, towel-drying her hair. The sight of her full breasts and even fuller stomach left him speechless. She was beyond beautiful. With everything in him, he wanted to kneel in front of her, curving his hands around her belly. He wanted to kiss her. Not just on the lips, but all over. He wanted to taste every inch of her, feel every inch of her, know her body as well as he did his own.
“I’m changing.” Her expression was matter-of-fact, making him feel like a gaping twelve-year-old for even caring. “After all the time you’ve put into keeping me healthy, do you really want to lose me from something as senseless as catching my death of cold?”
At least then they’d be even, seeing how he was currently on the verge of dying from need. He had never wanted a woman more. Never had he been more achingly aware of the fact that she wasn’t his.
Chapter Ten
Only after Dane had left to get her fresh clothes did Gabby dare breathe. Good Lord, was his chest gorgeous. Well defined with just enough hair to make him manly without being a Sasquatch. The thought made her smile, as did the memory of his broad shoulders.
&
nbsp; He returned wearing dry khaki cargo shorts and nothing else. With his dark hair all spiky and wet, a hint of stubble shadowing his squarish jaws, he was stunning. Gone was the formal judge. In his place was a rugged man whom she’d be all too happy to have jump her bones. But then, like he’d really want to. After all, with her being grossly pregnant, she wasn’t exactly looking her best.
Presenting her with a pile of dry clothes, he said, “I wasn’t sure if you were wet all the way through, or just on top.”
Cheeks flaming, Gabby’s already naughty mind didn’t need much encouragement to take Dane’s innocent question the entirely wrong way. “All the way through, thank you.”
“Sure.” Politely looking away, he asked, “Need help?”
“Probably, but I don’t want to put you in an awkward spot.”
“What do you need me to do?”
Again, Gabby found herself giggling. If she told uptight Dane what she really needed him to do, he’d pass out! “First, help me up from here.”
He did, but instead of grasping her hands as she’d expected, he awkwardly took hold between her elbows and forearms, placing her face square in the center of that chest she’d admired earlier.
Once she was standing, Gabby wrapped her arms around Dane’s waist for support. “I seem to have lost all sense of balance.”
“Normal, I suppose, considering you have a watermelon where your waist used to be.”
“You are so good for my ego,” she said, shimmying free of her wet pj bottoms.
She was trying to be efficient. Clinical. She was trying not to notice the way her bare skin brushed his. And in the places where they touched there was fire. Her insides felt quivery and Baby Günter kicked as if he were in a championship soccer match.
All too soon, she had on her fresh yellow flannel pj’s.
“There you go,” Dane said, urging her toward her room. “Come on, let’s get you back to bed and I’ll fix you a plate.”
“Thank you for your help.” In the cramped, dark hall, she turned to him, flattening her hands against his chest. The wood floor chilled her bare feet. Dane’s warmth counteracted all discomfort. On her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek. “You’ve been so kind—through everything.”
She kissed his other cheek, and his chin.
Groaning, he warned, “Gabrielle…”
Turning her attention to his throat, and then lower, she said, “Please hold me. Please, don’t make me beg.”
“I can’t—”
“It’s just us, Dane.” Skimming her fingertips along the dark curls on his chest, she said, “Ben’s miles away. Don’t let his ghost ruin what we share.”
“What exactly is that?” he asked, resting his forehead against hers.
“I don’t know,” she said. “It’s not anything I can define, but surely you feel it?”
“I’m not sure what I’m feeling anymore. Watching you started out to be the right thing to do, but now I don’t just want to be with you, I have to be with you. And when the baby comes—”
“You’ll still be here with me, right?”
He tried backing away from her, but she held on for dear life. “Let me go. You know it’s for the best.”
Arms around his waist, she said, “No, Dane, what I know is that I’ve never been happier than these past weeks with you. If it helps, you’re hardly stealing me from Ben. I’m choosing you over him. Now I see he was a joke. You, Dane, are the real deal.”
She kissed his chest. Over and over, pressing her lips to his skin, but then he braced his hands on each side of her face, forcing her gaze to lock with his. As if agonized over a war of will raging within him, he groaned again. But then he kissed her, and there was no hiding the depth of his emotions.
“What are we doing?” he eventually asked.
“Enjoying ourselves?”
Her matter-of-fact statement must have been just the right answer because he laughed before sweeping her off her feet and settling her back into bed.
“Comfortable?” Dane asked, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.
She nodded.
“Need anything?” he asked in a throaty whisper. “Water…Extra pillow…A cookie?” Perched on the side of the bed, skimming her hair, he stared at her. Expectantly. Like maybe he needed something, but wasn’t sure what. His warmth alongside her felt good on the chilly night.
Smiling, she shook her head.
He rose, taking his warmth with him. “All right, then. I, ah, guess I’ll head to my room.”
“O-okay.” Something about him in the dreamy lamplight made him almost unbearably handsome. His unreadable eyes, mussed hair and whisker-stubbled jawline. Was it wrong for her to want for nothing more than him to stay?
At the door, he said, “Remember, if you need anything—anything at all, I’m right down the hall.” He hooked his thumb in that direction.
“That rhymed,” she couldn’t resist teasing with a giggle while trying to still her racing heart. “All—down the hall.”
Curiously sober, he said, “You know what I mean.”
Swallowing hard, she nodded. Boy, did she. Which was why she summoned her every ounce of courage to take him up on his offer. Shyly patting the empty side of her bed, she asked, “Stay? Please? I’ll behave….” Flashing him a smile, she added, “I just don’t want you to go.”
Faintly smiling back, already headed her way, he said, “Me, neither.”
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” GABBY SAID to Mama Bocelli Friday night, handing her a bouquet of two dozen hot-pink roses and a box of candy. The house smelled heavenly—rich with tomato sauce, Italian sausage and, of course, all sorts of cheeses. When Gabby’s stomach rumbled in anticipation, the baby kicked.
Mama refused the gifts and shrieked, “What are you doing out of bed?”
“Relax,” Dane said, taking the flowers and chocolates, then setting them on the hall table. “As long as she lies on the sofa ASAP, she has her doctor’s permission. I heard it myself.”
“That may well be,” Mama said, “but you’re under my care now, and I say you shouldn’t be up.”
“What’re you doing out of bed?” Nana asked. She’d entered the room arm in arm with a well-dressed, silver-haired man. Nana was wearing her best red dress and must’ve just had her hair done as it was teased into a shellacked pile high on her head. “Go lie down.”
Nana let go of the man Gabby presumed to be her Flavor of the Month and ushered Gabby into her purple recliner.
“Don’t get up again,” Mama said, pulling the lever that made the footrest pop out.
Sighing, Gabby looked to Dane for rescue, but he merely smiled and shrugged.
“Some help you are,” she said to him under her breath while Nana and Mama fought over whether or not Gabby needed a blanket.
“They scare the hell out of me,” he muttered. “I’m staying out of it.”
“You’re a wise man,” Dane’s father said, strolling up behind his son. “I avoid your mother as much as humanly possible.”
“Me, too,” Uncle Tommy said, a clear plastic tumbler filled with red wine in one hand and a thick wedge of garlic toast in the other.
Aunt Frieda had joined the great blanket debate.
An hour later, seeing how Mama still wouldn’t allow Gabby to leave her recliner, the entire party had moved to the living room. From TV trays, they ate lasagna, spaghetti and meatballs, fettuccini alfredo and homemade creamy Italian-dressed salads. Dane’s father had wanted to watch ESPN during dinner, but since it was Mama’s birthday, her vote was the only one that mattered. Breakfast at Tiffany’s was showing on TCM.
After the main course, there was tiramisu and singing before Mama blew out the candles on her birthday cake. She had four wrapped gifts. One was a new diamond watch from her husband.
Hands over her mouth, eyes shiny with tears, in a rare show of emotion, she kissed Pops full on his lips. “Thank you, Papa Bear.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, patting her ample behind.
Papa Bear? Gabby mouthed behind her hand to Dane.
He laughed.
Mama then opened a new Sunday hat from Uncle Tommy and Aunt Frieda. It was big and pink with plenty of netting, sequins and silk flowers. Following that was a red bathrobe and matching slippers from Nana. Her date’s gift was a brass butterfly that was a little dusty and tarnished behind the wings.
Nana blurted, “Wasn’t that the same gift you gave Helen for her last birthday?” Earlier in the night, they’d all learned Helen was Arthur’s former wife. Oops.
Glaring at her mother, Mama put the butterfly back in its box, and then rose. “Since I’m the birthday girl, I think all of the boys should do the dishes.”
“Here, here!” Aunt Frieda said.
“Yeah, and once Dane’s out of the room,” Nana said, “I want the inside scoop on what our little Gabrielle and him have been up to. Have you seen the way she glows?”
“That’s my cue to get out of here,” Dane said under his breath. “Good luck.” He patted Gabby’s right shoulder.
“Now that he’s out of the way,” Nana said, parking herself in the recliner next to Gabby’s, “give us some dirt. What have you two been up to?”
The kitchen phone rang. Gabby took it as her out. “Shouldn’t you get that?”
“Nah—” Nana waved in that general direction “—that’s what the menfolk are for. Now, has Dane proposed?”
“Wh-what?” Gabby struggled not to choke on her spit. Her back had really been throbbing, and now she had to deal with this?
“You heard me. Is he going to make an honest woman of you?”
Aunt Frieda cleared her throat. “Nana, would you like me to help you get ready for bed?”
“Bed?” Nana snorted. “Do I look like a nine-year-old to you?”
“Mama,” Dane said, cordless phone in hand. “It’s for you.”
“Who is it?” she asked. “Nancy from down the street? I was just thinking she hadn’t wished me a happy day, when for her birthday, I—”
“Mama,” Dane repeated, complexion ashen as he stared at Gabby, “it’s Ben.”
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