“Yeah, Sassy,” Luke interjected, beginning to look a little nervous. “There’s no reason to start anything tonight. Especially since Gretchen cooked us such a great dinner and everything.”
Sassy glared at Luke. It was clear she felt him the worst kind of traitor for taking their dad’s side in the brewing argument. “I’m not starting anything,” she cried in an anguished tone. “This all started when Dad married Gretchen. And even that makes sense now,” Sassy blurted out angrily as she stormed about the living room. She whirled toward Matt. “I knew you never would have married Gretchen under normal circumstances—”
Unfortunately, Gretchen thought, Sassy was right. If not for the baby, she and Matt would not have married. Guilt filled her anew.
“Sassy, that’s enough,” Matt reprimanded, looking as if he, too, were about to explode. “Gretchen is my wife and your stepmother, and you will treat her with respect.”
“Well, I guess I know who and what matters to you, don’t I?” Sassy shot back furiously, tears glimmering in her eyes. Shoulders shaking with silent sobs, she raced from the room.
With an apologetic glance at Gretchen and an exasperated glare at her dad, Angela ran after her. “Sassy, wait!”
“No! I’m getting out of here.”
The front door slammed once, twice.
Luke lurched to his feet and glared at Matt. “Nice going, Dad.”
In the driveway a car started.
Matt scowled at Luke. “Got a hankering to join your sister in the doghouse?” he drawled. “‘Cause that’s where she is right now, and where she’ll stay until she comes back here and apologizes to Gretchen and to me.”
Luke rolled his eyes. “She won’t do it,” he predicted direly.
“Then she’d better get used to her fall from grace,” Matt retorted.
Near tears herself—it seemed she had brought nothing but turmoil to Matt’s life—Gretchen pushed to her feet once again. “Where do you think the girls went?” she asked Luke.
“To Angela’s apartment, down by UT.”
Gretchen turned to Matt beseechingly. There was still time to prevent an all-out family feud, if only he would act. “Why don’t you go after them?” she suggested gently.
Matt shook his head, stood and began collecting coffee cups and dessert plates. “They know how to find me when they’re ready to talk,” he replied stubbornly.
“Please, Matt—”
“Dad’s right,” Luke interjected. Gretchen looked at him and he jammed his hands in his pockets of his jeans. “As upset as they both are, I doubt it would do any good right now. But I’ll try to talk some sense into them anyway. Thanks for dinner, Gretchen.” Luke patted her on the shoulder. He turned to his dad, merely shook his head in remonstration and exited the room.
Once again the front door shut—quietly this time. Gretchen and Matt were alone.
The tension dissipated, but did not fade altogether. “I’m sorry,” she said after a moment, as she, too, began to pick up.
Matt’s expression was grim, his irritation with the situation evident. “You have nothing to apologize for,” he stated flatly.
Gretchen swallowed, the remorse she felt going soul-deep. Knowing the last thing Matt needed right now was another emotional scene, she stood in front of him and kept her voice as even as she could. “I never meant to come between you and your kids,” she apologized softly.
“You haven’t,” Matt replied shortly, his expression bleak.
Recalling what had happened, Gretchen was not so sure.
* * *
THE PHONE RANG at midnight. Gretchen heard Matt answer it. He talked briefly, then hung up.
Unable to stand the suspense—calls that late at night almost always brought bad news, she got up, pulled on a robe and went down the hall to his bedroom. The door was open, the bedroom shrouded in darkness. He was lying on his back, both powerful arms folded behind his head, a brooding look on his face. His sinewy chest and shoulders were bare, the covers drawn only to his waist.
She paused in the portal, memories of their previous nights together flooding her senses, making her aware how very much she longed to make love to him again. But that was probably not going to happen until Matt restored some equilibrium to his life. And since she had helped destroy it, perhaps she could help put it back to rights. Clutching the lapels of her robe, she asked softly, “Was that the kids?”
His look turned even more brooding as he leaned over and switched on the bedside light, then turned back to her. “Yes.”
Shivering in the nighttime coolness of the house, she edged closer. “And they’re all okay?”
“And spending the night at Angela’s place,” Matt reported wearily, rubbing his hand across his brow.
Gretchen sat on the opposite edge of his king-size bed, facing him, and pleated the spread with her fingers. “Are they planning to come by tomorrow?”
He turned so he was lying on his side. “Luke and Sassy are both leaving first thing in the morning to go back to school. Angela plans to spend the day researching a paper at the library.”
Knowing how much he had looked forward to having all three of his kids with him that weekend, she knew how that had to hurt. “Maybe you should have breakfast with them,” Gretchen suggested.
“No. They made it pretty clear they don’t want to see me.”
“Oh, Matt—”
“It’s all right, Gretchen,” he said gently, his expression becoming more aggrieved. “They’ve all been mad at me before. They’ll get over it in time.”
“What if they don’t?” Gretchen asked. When he was silent, she rushed on emotionally. “Matt, I couldn’t bear it if I were responsible for alienating you from your family.” Whether he admitted it, he would not be able to bear it, either.
“Don’t worry about it,” he advised brusquely. “Any alienation my children and I are feeling tonight is strictly of our own making.”
Was it? Gretchen wondered. “That may be,” she allowed slowly, “but you can’t deny that the blowup tonight wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t married me.” And for that she felt an incredibly heavy burden of guilt.
Irritation sharpening his features, Matt got up, stalked to the closet and pulled on a robe. “That was my choice, Gretchen,” he reminded her.
Gretchen swallowed the growing knot of emotion in her throat. “Choice or obligation?” she countered.
He gave her a sharp look as he strode to her side. “No one forced me into anything,” he informed her. “I married you because I wanted to marry you, Gretchen.”
As much as she would’ve liked to think so, Gretchen knew that was not the case, not really. “You married me because of the baby,” she corrected icily. “And as much as I want to forget it, I can’t, Matt.” And neither can you or your kids.
Tears trembled on her lashes. Determinedly she blinked them back. Damn it all, she had known their hasty marriage was a mistake. Tonight had proved it. But it wasn’t too late to rectify the situation. “Which is why I’m moving out,” she continued quietly, her mind made up as soon as the impulsive words were out.
“What?” Matt did a double take. “When?”
Before I lose my nerve, Gretchen thought. Before I think about all I’m giving up and will wish forever that I still had. “First thing tomorrow morning.”
* * *
MATT STOOD in the doorway to the guest room. It was barely six-thirty in the morning, and Gretchen was already up, dressed in oversize navy sweats and a white T-shirt and folding clothes back into boxes.
He had hoped she would calm down if he gave her some time to get a night’s sleep and think about what she was doing. Apparently that was not the case. He leaned a shoulder against the portal, glad he’d gotten up when he’d first heard her moving around, and hit the shower, too. “Don’t I get any say in this?”
Her glance moved cursorily from the top of his damp hair to his moccasin-clad feet, the determination in her eyes appealing to him every bit as muc
h as the passion.
“Nope.”
Matt blew out a weary breath. “I see.”
Her mouth crooked up in a knowing smile. “I don’t think you do,” she countered ruefully, “but you will. Eventually.”
It took every ounce of self-control he possessed for him not to cross the small room and take her in his arms. “Suppose you explain it to me, then,” he told her with deceptive tranquillity, his temper beginning to flare.
“That’s easy.” Gretchen tossed her hair. “I’m giving you your life back.”
“No,” he amended. Pushing away from the door, he circled around the other side of the bed and slouched on the window seat. “You are making my life harder.”
Color flooded her cheeks. “I don’t see how you can say that,” she muttered emotionally.
Matt watched as she stuffed an armload of books in the box. “Has it occurred to you that I want you here, with me, so that I can keep an eye on you?”
Gretchen lifted her chin haughtily. “I assure you I am quite trustworthy,” she snapped back.
That had never been under dispute. Matt stood and paced the U-shaped area around the bed. “You are also pregnant, Gretchen.”
The color in her cheeks deepened. “I’m fine.”
Matt braced his hands on his waist and towered over her. “What if something happens?”
Gretchen slipped by him and stuffed a handful of lacy lingerie in her suitcase. “I can dial 911 as well as anyone,” she responded, as if there were no other way to go.
“Uh-huh.” Matt didn’t even want to think about how long it had been since he had seen her in that lingerie. “What about your desire to give this baby the best possible start?” he demanded, standing close enough to inhale the sexy fragrance clinging to her skin. “Or have you forgotten about that, too?”
Tears of fury glimmered in her eyes as she pivoted away from him. “I was fooling myself thinking that this was the way to do that.”
Matt grasped her shoulders and turned her to face him. “No, Gretchen, you weren’t.” She remained stiff in his arms. “Look, I know our relationship has had a most unconventional start.”
Gretchen quirked a brow. “Now, that’s putting it mildly,” she drawled.
Ignoring her sarcasm, Matt continued, “We got involved too soon. We never had a chance to let our relationship grow. And when we did get married, it was with both feet out the door.”
Gretchen folded her arms in front of her but made no move to escape his hold. “So what’s your point?”
Matt shrugged and dropped his hands. “Maybe the kids are right. Maybe this marriage of ours is a farce. But it doesn’t have to stay that way.”
Gretchen grew very still for a long moment. “What are you suggesting?” she asked warily.
“That we make a real go of it. That we sleep together and eat together and act like a real husband and wife. Who knows? The feeling just might take,” he said with amiability.
“Oh, Matt.”
Gretchen sighed, in that instant looking more vulnerable than he had ever seen her. Tears sparkled in her eyes but did not fall.
“Why are you suggesting this now?” she asked in a low, anguished voice.
“Because I realized something yesterday in Marissa’s office,” Matt said hoarsely, threading both hands through her hair and tilting her face up to his. “I realized how much I wanted you to have this baby. I also realized how much I’m beginning to care about you. I want those feelings to be mutual, Gretchen. I want us to care about each other as much as we both care about the health and safety of our baby.”
“I want that, too,” Gretchen whispered back, as the tears she’d been valiantly withholding rolled down her face. “But I’m afraid, Matt.”
“Afraid of what?” Matt asked as he swung her up into his arms and carried her down the hall to his bedroom. He shut the door behind them with his foot, then crossed the room and lowered her gently onto the unmade covers of his bed. He lay down beside her and took her in his arms.
“I thought I could handle this as long as I didn’t invest too much of myself.” Gretchen drew a deep, hitching breath as he aligned his length intimately with hers, cuddling her close as she buried her face in his shoulder. “What you’re asking me for is an all-out effort.”
Matt cupped a hand beneath her chin, forcing her face up to his, then smoothed the hair from her face with long, gentle strokes. “An all-out effort is what I’m promising to give in return.”
Gretchen studied him. “What if it doesn’t work?” she asked as she smoothed a trembling hand across his chest.
“Then we’ll be able to look back,” Matt said softly, kissing first her brow, then her temple, then her cheek, “and know that we both gave it our all. No one can ask for more than that, Gretchen.” Giving in to the desire that had been haunting him for days now, he pressed a hand to her spine, urging her closer, until her breasts were against his chest. He ran his hand up and down her spine. As she melted against him, his lips met hers in a searing kiss. Twining her arms about his neck, Gretchen murmured her pleasure and surged up to meet him.
Her mouth was pliant beneath his, warm and sexy, and Matt put everything he had into the kiss. This time, he did not want her running away.
He was kissing her the way he had during their wedding night, Gretchen thought, the way he had the first time they’d made love, with a sure, sweet tenderness that rocked her to her soul and left her feeling as if she were in heaven. Unable to help herself, she began to return his kisses, first shyly, then with growing ardor. The scent of his cologne, so brisk and masculine, filled her senses. She moaned as he pushed aside the layers of her clothes, baring her breasts, his thumb and fingers playing over her nipples until they were tight, aching buds. Still kissing him voraciously, she unbuttoned his shirt, unzipped his jeans. His arousal, so hot and hard, pressed against her palm. He was as eager to please her as she was to please him, and they swiftly shed their clothes, their words coming on ragged breaths.
“I can’t believe—”
“I know.”
“I want—”
“So do I, sweetheart, so do I.” Pulling her back to him, he caressed the gentle slope of her abdomen wonderingly, slid a hand between her thighs. She cried out as he touched her, arching her back as heat spread through her in waves. “Oh, Matt,” she murmured, raining kisses across his collarbone and his chest as the need to be part of him grew ever stronger.
“Let me love you,” he whispered as he laved her breast with his tongue and blew it dry with his breath.
And all the while his hand stroked, bringing her to a fever pitch. She arched against him again, needing to give, even as she took. Her hands caressing him, she straddled his hips, then knelt, her knees aside his thighs. Slowly she lowered herself, took the hot hard length of him inside.
Matt groaned and caught her hips in his hands, drawing her into an even deeper union. Then his fingers were sliding down their bodies, tracing tantalizing patterns in hidden places, searching for and finding her pleasure. The need within her exploded and her self-control evaporated. She cried out. The next thing she knew she was beneath him again. Thighs pressed against thighs, hips against hips.
She moaned as his mouth came down on hers, and then they were one again. Connecting...everywhere...body and soul. Gretchen hadn’t known she could need anyone like this, but she did. Perhaps always would. And then they were cresting together, wave after wave, moving headlong into fire, holding each other in a manner that took all the questions, all the doubts, away. Satisfaction came easily, for both of them, and with it the peace she hadn’t felt in weeks.
Matt was right, she thought sleepily, long minutes later as he continued to hold her in his arms, creating a safe loving haven that was invulnerable to the pressures and responsibilities awaiting them in the outside world. They did owe it to each other and their baby to give this relationship of theirs more than half a chance. There was no telling what the future was going to bring them, of cours
e, but right now, they needed each other. So right now, they would take it one day, one moment, at a time....
Chapter Nine
April
“Well? What do you think?” Marissa asked.
Gretchen examined herself in a three-way mirror and started to laugh. “I think I look like a big yellow blimp.” The maternity dress had bell-shaped sleeves that poofed off her shoulders like a bad soufflé and a hem that hit at a dowdy middle of the knee. She leaned against the dressing room wall and shook her head, her only comfort the thought that Matt was not there to see her. “I can’t go to class at UT dressed like this. If the other students saw me in this they’d think I was two bricks short of a load. And I can’t say as I’d blame them.”
Marissa grinned. “You’re right. It’s so bad it’s ridiculous. You’d probably be laughed off campus if you wore that.”
“And those two jumpsuits I had on a minute ago were just as poorly cut,” Gretchen moaned as she shimmied out of the dress. “Honestly, who designs these things?”
“Who knows. Who cares. Let’s just try to find you something to wear, and to that end, let’s try the maternity jeans and that white turtleneck sweater.”
Gretchen slipped off the dress and put on the jeans. The sweater was too bulky and the jeans were a miserable fit. “There’s no way these are going to stay up,” she lamented as she moved slightly to the left and the denim eased down her hips. Lifting the hem of her sweater, she pinched two inches off the waist of the stretchable front panel. “Maybe I should try a smaller size.”
“If you try a smaller size they won’t fit when you reach the third trimester,” Marissa said practically. “Let’s try the khaki slacks. There’s no polyester panel on these and the waist is elasticized all the way around.”
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