by Dawn, Penny
"It's not mine."
She blinked. “Pardon me?"
"The baby."
"How do you know?"
"None of my guys have seen the inside of a uterus since January. Five months, if you're keeping score."
"I'm sorry."
He squeezed her hand. “It happens, you know?"
She nodded. “Unfortunately."
"So are we ever going to let this happen? You and me?"
"I'm pregnant."
"I wish it were my baby."
"Mine or Diane's?"
"Both."
It figured. “Do any of the men in my life know how they feel about me?"
"Give me a reason to walk away."
"I think Diane gave you one."
"Well, give me another.” His index finger caressed the top of her hand, and his remaining three rubbed back and forth in her grasp. Back and forth, back and forth.
His fingers moved through hers, sparking a deep-seated urge between her legs. Wow, if he made love with other parts the way he used his hands ... She imagined those fingers slowly pressing into her tunnel and dragging out. In, in, in, in. Out, out, out, out.
"I saw you,” he whispered. “I came for three nights without seeing you, but then, right on time, at three, I saw you, eating ice cream, crying."
"Did anyone see you?"
"You cry more than you should."
Were her panties damp?
"Tell me, beautiful girl, do you make love to him when he's slobbering drunk?"
She did that night, reaching orgasm with her eyes closed, whispering a name. And the intense feeling between her legs now inspired her to whisper it again: “Luke."
"Do you?” He stared hard at her, his fingers keeping the same, slow rhythm against her hand.
A shudder ran through her, and she licked her lips.
A lascivious grin overtook him. “Whatever I'm doing right, let me know, and I'll keep doing it."
Her cheeks flushed with color and she straightened. “Let's just say you're good at what you do."
"You don't know what I can do."
"I can't know."
"Do you ever think we should just ... go with it?"
All the time. Family-shmamily, right?
"Look.” He licked his full bottom lip. “I know you try. You're a good wife. You weren't looking for someone to fill Brennan's shoes Sunday night through Friday afternoon when you found me. But this is natural. Two beautiful people who found each other at a time when—"
"Stop, Luke.” Her words escaped her in a hushed whisper, although she'd intended them to be severe.
"I know you're not screwing the mailman. I'm different. I'm special when it comes to you.” His fingers continued to massage her hand. “Right?"
Special? Like Jason? She nodded. “Yes."
He released her hand and in a split second, disappeared under the table. Before she knew what was happening, he'd rested his head in her lap, his hands working their way against her backside.
God, he felt good. Hands under her dress; fingers wiggling into her panties.
"Don't.” She shifted, but her movement only enabled his swift hands to reach their destination faster.
"Relax,” he whispered against her thighs. “I promise, Kimber, I'll be good. But I just have to know first.” A thick finger wrestled against her clitoris for half a moment before another pushed into her.
"Oh, God!"
His wedding band rubbed against her insides, dragged along her walls and exited. How could something so wrong feel so good?
Again, he pressed into her.
"Please,” she whispered, “don't make me want this."
"Do you want it? Do you want me?"
"God, yes. But..."
His hands slid away, and he reappeared in his chair, licking her taste from his fingers.
Why would Diane refuse that kind of pleasure?
"Sorry,” he said with a schoolboy grin. “I had to."
She frowned.
He headed toward the door, a hard seven-and-five-eighths bulging at his crotch. “Thanks for the coffee."
She'd yet to pour a mug.
"I should get back to work, beautiful girl."
"About that.” Breathing was a struggle.
"Yeah?"
"What do I owe you?"
He smiled. “Another cup of coffee."
* * * *
"Let's go for a walk, Mommy,” Allison said, jolting her from the same daydream occupying her thoughts all day—of Luke's fingers treating her well. “To the park."
"You're too sleepy, Allie, and I can't carry you when you get too tired to walk."
"I'll ride, Mommy. In my stroller. Please?"
She blinked away thoughts of climaxing under Luke's rugged body. “All right."
"Yippee! I'll change outfits."
"Can't you wear what you're wearing?"
"These are play clothes. Not park clothes."
"Make it quick.” Twenty minutes later, she pushed her daughter in the stroller, walking around the block and through Satchel Park, rubbing her engorged clitoris between her pregnant thighs.
More. She needed more. One night wouldn't be enough. A week wouldn't come close. One night a week for the rest of her life. Not fair, not enough, but it would have to suffice. Oh God, I'm falling in love with him.
* * * *
"Kimmy, Kimmy Coco Bop.” She looked up at her house to see Brennan, lolling on the front porch swing, dress shirt unbuttoned and untucked, home hours earlier than she'd expected.
"Brennan. Hi.” She swallowed hard, wondering if the scent of sex steamed from her pores. Did she smell like Luke? Did she taste like him? “Where's the repairman? He was staining the new garage door."
"Gone when I got here."
Whew. She bent to unbuckle Allison from the stroller.
"Let me get her, Kimmy. You shouldn't be lifting her when you don't have to."
She ignored her husband, hoisted her daughter, and held her tight to her chest. “I'm going to take a fast shower,” she whispered, hurrying inside and up the stairs.
"Wait a minute, Kim."
"I'll be quick, but I'm hot. Nauseous.” She deposited Allison onto her princess bed and rushed to the master suite. She yanked off her clothes and pulled on the faucet. Yet seconds before she stepped into the shower, Brennan swooped her into his arms and deposited her naked body onto the dressing table.
"Bren, I'm sweating."
"Good. Let me sweat with you.” His hands grazed along the contours of her breasts, and he dropped to his knees, darting his tongue into her slick, stimulated opening.
Her thighs tightened at his cheeks, and she closed her eyes, quivering. Coming. Gushing on his tongue.
* * * *
"Do you have something to tell me?” Luke asked, tossing a shop towel over a puddle of urine next to the back door.
Diane crossed her arms under her breasts. “One more accident on my floor, and that dog's getting the needle, Luke."
"I don't mean about Derby. About you."
She took a deep breath. “I'm going to my sister's tonight. I think we could both use a break."
He nodded. “Sure."
"I'll leave the children, if you think you can handle them in morning. I'll be back before your session with Dr. Schaeffer."
"Yeah, I don't think I'm going to go to counseling anymore."
"Suit yourself.” She turned toward the stairs.
"Anything else you want to tell me?"
She shook her head. “Not especially."
* * * *
The worst dinner cruise to date. And she'd thought last year's tragedy was insurmountable. Brennan stepped on Kimberley's toes for the eighteenth time. The brisk wind on Lake Michigan made for choppy water and a rocking vessel, and coupled with his drink of choice, his usual suave dance moves were anything but.
"Let's sit down,” she said.
"No.” He pulled her against his shirt, damp with sweat, and exhaled an atrocious bre
ath in her face.
"I'm tired, Bren."
"What a surprise."
"I'm pregnant."
"So is Gina, and so is Christine. And they're awake."
"I will be, too, by the third trimester."
"Yeah, yeah."
"Brennan, this baby is a choice we made together. I'm sorry it inconveniences you."
"If I ever gave you the impression now was the right time to expand our family, Kimmy...” He shook his head. “You wanted it, you got it. Deal with it."
"We wanted it. Not me. We."
"What's your problem tonight?"
Perhaps the-shot-of-Jack-per-basket during his morning basketball league shouldn't bother her. Maybe the scent of whiskey on his breath, the beads of sweat dripping from his brow, and the slurring since two in the afternoon shouldn't faze her in the least. And, yes, maybe she should even overlook his contempt for this pregnancy. “Nothing, Brennan. I'm having a great time."
"Oh,” he whispered into her ear. “Well, I beg your fucking pardon, Kimmy, but if you're having such a great time—"
"I'm fine, Brennan. Let's just—"
His grip on her hand tightened, and he squeezed her uncomfortably close, against his moist skin. “Maybe you should have a drink. Loosen up. One glass of red wine won't kill the baby, you know."
"I'd rather not."
"Would you rather I throw you into the dinghy and let you paddle back to shore?"
She stepped back, alarmed by his hateful glare, the pure evil seeping through his expression.
"Have a good time,” he said. “That's all I ask. Or at least pretend to enjoy yourself. But you won't. Jesus Christ, Kimmy, this night isn't exactly a fucking riot for me either. Do you think I wanted to wear this tie?"
"If the blue tie were so important, you should've gone to the cleaners yourself."
"I work hard. You spend my money.” He gripped her wrists, holding her prisoner. “Picking up the dry cleaning isn't brain surgery, and it's the least you can do."
She pulled to free herself, her wrists aching, and immediately looked away when she caught sight of Lauren. The last thing she needed was another pity party, but her best friend had already reached for her. Finally free, Kimberley darted to the ladies’ room, rubbing her red wrists, with Lauren at her heels.
"Honey, what happened?” Lauren sat next to Kimberley on a bench.
"I said yes.” Tremendous tears soaked her cheeks. “And I regret saying yes every Saturday night. It's no wonder I still reserve a place in my heart for Jason. If this were your life, wouldn't you wish you'd chosen option number one?"
"Kimmy."
"Of the two men who've loved me, why did I say yes to Brennan Roderick?"
"Don't say that. He's a good man, he's just—"
"I don't know what else to say. I mean, why didn't you accept when he proposed to you? What makes you so smart?"
"Honey, what do you want me to do?"
"Push rewind. Please, just push rewind."
"I'll go talk to him."
"It won't make a difference. What's done is done, and you can't erase this constant humiliation, the irreversible hurt. Every goddamn year, every special occasion."
"I'll calm him down. Wait for me here?"
"I assure you, Lauren, I'll be here for the rest of the night. I'm not going back out there."
"Can I get you anything?” Lauren walked toward the door.
"You mean, besides a new husband?"
"Oh, honey.” Lauren's pink lips flattened into a line, and she opened the door. “You know he loves you."
Once alone, Kimberley pulled her cell phone from her purse, dialed, and left a message. “Hi. I know it's late, and I can't talk, so don't call me back. But meet me tomorrow. One o'clock. Rain or shine."
* * * *
As luck had it, the sun shone.
"Did I ever tell you about the most flattering moment of my life?” Kimberley asked, lying on her stomach in the forest preserve, kicking her feet like a carefree teenager. Luke had been waiting, bearing gifts in the form of a strawberry milkshake and French fries, when she arrived.
With a smile, he mocked her, kicking his feet, too. His lips encircled a red-and-white striped straw, and he sipped from the paper tumbler she held securely against the ground.
"Most flattering moment.” His nose wrinkled as he contemplated. “No, Kimber, I haven't heard this one."
For a few moments, she imagined life with him. Waking up with him, kissing him at the door as he left for work in the morning, serving him dinner every night. Being a stepmother to his children, his being Allison's stepfather, her everyday father figure.
Easy. Relaxing. Frightening.
"Well?” He chuckled. “Now that I'm curious..."
"Oh.” She blinked away thoughts of forever. “It's nothing, really, just a tiny piece of history that's stayed with me since my sixteenth birthday. When I met his grandmother, Jason held my hand."
"That's it? Anyone could do that."
"His grandmother used to wear a charm bracelet with a commemorative charm for each grandchild, and—"
"What was Jason's charm?"
"A baseball hat, and she was very proud of it, too. She'd show her bracelet to waitresses, doctors, anyone who'd look. Even strangers on the street. And she'd explain each and every charm and why it signified a specific grandchild. And when I met her, Jason gave her a golden four-leaf clover. He said he felt lucky around me."
Luke took hold of her hand, his fingers warm against hers. “Don't worry, Kimberley. I'll hold your hand when you meet my grandmother, too. I promise."
She smiled. “What are you doing next Wednesday?"
"Are you asking me for a date?"
"Of sorts."
* * * *
That Wednesday, with her shirt gathered just under her bra, and her jeans unfastened, Kimberly smiled up at Luke. “Were you with Diane the first time she heard your kids’ heartbeats?"
"Caleb's. Not Rachael's.” He gave her hand a little squeeze, but quickly backed away, keeping one eye on the door. “But I wish I had been. Was Brennan there for Allie's?"
"He had a meeting."
"Hello.” Dr. Janus entered the room, fixing his stare on Kimberley's file. “How are we today?"
Although her obstetrician hadn't given Luke a second glance, she cleared her throat and delivered the fib she'd practiced all the way to the doctor's office. “My husband is out of town, so I brought a proxy. This is my brother."
The doctor glanced at Luke over a file and only mumbled a noncommittal hello, but when he turned to Kimberley, a small smile touched his lips. “You're getting a little baby bubble down here."
"It's ice cream,” she said.
"You're only up three pounds, but you'll want to watch that ice cream from now on, Kim, all right? Now let's see if we can find this heartbeat."
"Eat if you're hungry,” Luke interjected.
The cold Doppler met her skin.
"Are you going to find out if it's a boy or girl?"
The doctor probed around her abdomen.
"No, I like to be surprised."
"Diane has to know. It drives her crazy until she knows."
The doctor adjusted the Doppler and glanced at the chart. “You're ten weeks?"
"Almost eleven."
"We knew with Caleb, just had a feeling. And the ultrasound proved us right. Rachael ... well, I've never been in tune with her but—"
"Ten weeks? Ten-and-a-half?” The doctor piped up.
"Yes."
"I can't find it.” The doctor removed the device and wiped gel from Kimberley's skin.
"What?” Instantly, tears filled her eyes. “What does that mean?"
Luke crouched at her side.
"It doesn't necessarily mean anything, Kim,” the doctor said. “It just means that—"
"Try again,” Luke said. His brown eyes darted to the doctor's gaze, but swiftly returned to hers.
