“I know. Frankie says you were just hurt.”
“Frankie’s smart.” He sucked in a fortifying breath. “Trisha, I lost you once sixteen years ago and haven’t fallen for anyone else since. I’m afraid you’re the only woman I’ll ever love, so if you don’t want me and Haley, I’ll probably spend my life alone. It doesn’t matter that your baby isn’t mine. I’ll love him just because he’s part of you.”
She hesitated a moment, pursing her lips. “Is this a proposal?”
“If you want it to be.” He spread his arms, praying she’d fill them.
“Yes.” She threw herself at him and pressed her mouth to his. Her lips gradually parted and gave his tongue access to the sweet interior of her mouth. Every cell in him rejoiced at having her body plastered against him again.
He drew back and dotted her face with kisses. “I love you so much.” He slid his hand down to her belly and spanned the tiny mound growing there. “And I can’t wait to meet our little Brain.”
“I’d argue with you about that, but I really do think it’s a boy.”
“When will we find out?”
“In a couple of weeks.”
He slid his hands up to cup her breasts. “Do I have to wait until after dinner before making love to you again?”
“If you do, it’s going to be a very short meal.”
It was all the invitation he needed. In practically no time at all, both of their clothes lay strewn over the family room’s floor. He tumbled her back on the sofa and kissed her while his hands reacquainted themselves with her curves. “I think your breasts are bigger,” he murmured.
“Is that a good thing or bad?” She moaned.
“Just different.” He sucked one of her luscious nipples into his mouth. “You still taste wonderful
“I need you, Justin. Now.” She wrapped her legs around his hips and arched her back.
As he entered her, she gasped.
“I’m sorry.” He remained perfectly still. “Did I hurt you?”
“No! You just feel so good inside me.”
Good was a total understatement for him. It was the first time he’d had unprotected sex since the night Trisha bathed him in champagne back in college—the same night he must have impregnated her.
She held him tighter and rocked her hips, urging him on. “I’ve missed you so, so much.”
Her silken sheath gliding over his hard flesh felt so indescribable every thought besides taking her hard and fast flew out of his head.
Less than thirty seconds later, she shuddered beneath him and clawed his back. “Yes!”
He said a prayer of thanks because he couldn’t last much longer. A few more thrusts of his hips sent him over the edge with her. Every muscle in him seized as a wave of heat flooded his body, and he pumped his seed into her.
He collapsed on her, panting in her ear. “Damn, that was good. Way too short but freaking fabulous. I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’ll do better next time.”
“Please don’t.” She laughed into his shoulder. “If it gets any better, the pleasure might kill me.”
~*~
Trisha smiled and closed her eyes, reveling in Justin’s weight on top of her.
“Am I too heavy?” he whispered.
“No way.” She stroked his back and felt something wet. “Oh, no! Did I draw blood?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care. I’m just glad Haley isn’t coming home tonight.” He rolled off her and pulled his boxer briefs on before handing her his shirt.
“You know,”—she slipped her arm into a sleeve—“she’s never gonna let us forget she’s responsible for us getting back together.”
“That’s okay.” He helped her roll up the sleeves on the shirt. “She deserves some credit. I just hope you’re up to handling such a sneaky teenager. I’m starving. How about we have some of that lasagna?”
She had to tell him. If she didn’t do it now, it would only become more difficult. “Can dinner wait another few minutes?”
“Sure. Why?”
She patted the sofa next to her and buttoned the shirt over her belly. “Sit down for a minute. We need to talk.”
A worried look flitted across his face. “Those words don’t usually bode well for me.”
“I hope what I have to tell you will ultimately make you happy. Just promise you won’t get mad in the meantime.”
“I can’t make that promise, querida. Not until I know what it is I’m not supposed to be angry about. But even if I’m furious, I can promise I won’t ever stop loving you.”
And Frankie said he was no good at expressing his feelings.
“Okay.” She couldn’t ask for more than everlasting love. “I’ve never been to the Colonial Tavern.”
He chuckled. “I didn’t think you had been.”
“What I mean is—I haven’t been with anyone else but you in over five years.”
His forehead furrowed as he laid his hand on her stomach. “I don’t understand. How—”
“I went to a sperm bank. The same one you donated to.”
He stared at her for several tense moments.
“I was inseminated on October nineteenth.”
“Are you suggesting I could be the baby’s father?”
She gnawed on her lip and nodded.
He smiled and shook his head. “Not likely. Do you know how many donors they have? Really, sweetheart, it doesn’t matter to me. I’ll love the Brain no matter where his DNA came from.”
“I didn’t tell you everything yet.”
“There’s more?”
“Yes. You see, I’ve always loved you, too, and I was devastated when I lost our baby.”
“I know you were.”
“I wanted our child back, so I gave a description of you when the sperm banks’ counselor asked about my preferences. Well, in October, I decided to use a new donor because I wasn’t having any success with the first one. I joked with the counselor that I wanted a Ricky Martin lookalike.”
He cast a doubtful look at her. “Seriously?”
“What can I say?” She shrugged. “I’d never heard of him until he released Livin’ La Vida Loca in ‘98. I couldn’t believe how much he looked like you. So I figured it was the easiest way to describe you.”
“I don’t know about any similarity between us, but if anyone resembles the other,”—he jabbed his thumb into his chest—“I look like Martin. He’s older than I am.”
“That may be, but I knew you first. Not that I actually know him.”
His gaze narrowed in a sideways glance. “Wait a minute. Are you sure you only wanted your child to have my ethnic background, or did you have some deep-seated need to get back at your bigoted old man?”
She’d wondered that a few times herself. If she couldn’t be honest with Justin, their relationship didn’t stand a chance. “I-I’m not sure. Would it bother you if that was part of the reason why?”
Justin laughed. “Hell, no. It would make my day. I hope you send him a birth announcement and enclose a five-by-seven glossy of our Ricky Martin clone.”
She took his hand and stroked the back of it. “Justin, very few people in the world are like my father. You need to stop looking for prejudice everywhere you turn.”
“I don’t.”
“But you do. You jumped all over Frankie at the wedding about making two sweet Caucasian girls look Hispanic. I don’t want you passing your paranoia down to our Latino child. If you refuse to let what happened with my dad go, I can’t—”
“Okay. I promise to work on it.” He turned his face away. “It wasn’t your dad that left me paranoid—if that’s what you want to call what I feel.”
“Then what was it?”
He turned back to face her, pain flickering in his eyes. “All those years of believing you left me because your old man didn’t approve of you having anything to do with a penniless Chicano. It broke my heart when I thought you’d chosen him over me. And then you broke it again when you didn’t want anything more wi
th me than a fling. I felt like I was just a stiff dick to you.”
“Oh, no, Justin!” She kissed him hard. “It was exactly the opposite. I left home because I loved you and our baby, and I didn’t want anything to do with my father if he couldn’t love you, too. And the only reason I didn’t want to continue our relationship was because I felt like you were only interested in sex and padding your studly ego by seeing how many times you could make me come.”
He ran his knuckles down her cheek and chuckled. “Hearing that makes all the difference, cariño. I don’t deny that knowing I can please you so much is a giant ego boost, but my main interest in giving you pleasure is purely because I love you. I want to make you happy.”
“You do.” They stared into each other’s eyes for several moments before she continued her explanation. “Anyway, the counselor at the sperm bank showed me a profile for a college graduate Latino man your height and weight. When I saw his childhood picture, I wanted my baby to look just like him.”
“You mean me.”
“Yes.” She drew tiny circles in the center of his bare chest with her fingertip. “I wanted him to look like you.”
He grabbed her hand. “You keep that up you may never get dinner.”
“So you’re not mad?”
“What could I be mad about?” His voice grew huskier as if emotion clogged his throat. “That you love me and want our child to look like me?”
“No. That I didn’t tell you when you mentioned donating to the same facility I used.”
“I understand why you didn’t. You know,”—he tweaked her nose—“Brain could always end up looking like you.”
“Or I could be carrying another Pinky.”
“Oh, man!” He dropped his head back. “I forgot about Haley. Do you think she’ll be all right sharing our attention with a baby?”
“She’s already nagging me to go shopping for him. She said I have to take her because she’s gonna be the godsister.”
“That sounds like one of F. Lee Haley’s arguments.”
“Cute. She really does debate every issue like a Boston lawyer, doesn’t she?”
“So much, I’m already checking out law schools.”
“Seriously, don’t you want to know if you were my donor?”
“No. I told you it doesn’t matter. Besides, now that I know there’s a distinct chance I could be your baby-daddy, I can let myself believe I am. I don’t want to find out I’m not and be disappointed.”
“I can understand that. But I’d feel a lot better if I had a more detailed family medical history for our child. And if you’re the dad, we would have one. How do you think Nick and Sam would’ve felt when Dani was diagnosed with leukemia if they’d had no idea if Nick had contributed to her DNA?”
“Okay.” He raised his hands. “I guess that makes sense. You can find out, but I don’t what to know.”
“Are you sure? After the baby’s born, we can do a DNA test—”
“There’s an easy enough way to check right now.”
“How?”
He stood and strolled over to the built-in bookcase where he pulled out a photo album. “I don’t want you to tell me,” he said, leafing through several pages, “but this way you’ll know in case our child ever gets sick.” He held the book out to her and pointed to a picture next to a blank space where a photo had been removed. “That shot was taken the same day as my donor picture.”
She studied the image of the same adorable little boy she’d chosen standing next to an older boy who had to be Nick. Justin wore the same exact polo shirt as her donor.
“Thanks.” She turned away, struggling to keep a straight face.
He stared down at the floor. “It wasn’t me, was it?”
She smiled. “I thought you don’t want to know.”
“It is me.” He heaved an exasperated sigh. “Just tell me, already. I’ll deal with it.”
She crossed her arms and turned away from him. “I don’t think I will.”
“Oh, yeah? Do I need to tickle it out of you?”
She jumped off the couch and dashed down the hall while he chased after her, his hands outstretched like claws.
“You know I’m faster than you.” He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her down to the living room’s thick carpet on top of himself, breaking her fall.
“All right!” she screeched as he tickled her ribs. “I’ll tell you!”
He rolled her to her back and brushed the hair from her face.
“You’re not the baby’s biological father.” She pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh.
“Okay, then.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I still love you both, more than I can tell you.”
“Do you wanna know a secret?”
“What? That you like old Beatle’s songs?” He chuckled, lightly pinching her bare bottom. “Or that you’re a terrible liar?”
“Those, too.” She grinned.
“What’s your secret?”
“Brain and I love you a whole bunch, too.” She combed her fingers through Justin’s dark hair. “And the only thing we’re interested in taking over is your heart.”
“Not possible.” He brushed his lips across hers, and whispered, “You already did that—a long, long time ago.”
EPILOGUE
At four a.m. on the Fourth of July, Justin woke to a warm wet sheet under him. Damn. Had he wet the bed?
He carefully extricated himself from Trisha’s arms and felt his side of the mattress. The moisture had come from Trisha and it seemed like a lot more than a little incontinence. Fortunately, his wife had had the foresight to put a waterproof protector under the sheets.
How could she stay asleep, lying in that mess?
He shook her gently. “Querida, I think it’s time.”
She moaned and rolled over, snuggling deeper into her pillow. “Just five more minutes.”
Wasn’t she supposed to wake him when the Brain decided to arrive? For the last week, she’d been so uncomfortable, she’d barely slept.
“Trisha, baby. We need to go to the hospital.” He stripped off his damp boxer briefs and pulled on his jeans without taking time to put on fresh underwear.
“My back is killing me,” she mumbled.
“Trisha! Wake up. You’re having the baby.”
She sat up and rubbed her eyes. A moment later, she grabbed her stomach and doubled over for a solid thirty seconds. “Owww, that really hurts.”
“How long has your back been bothering you?” He yanked a shirt off a hanger in the closet and pulled it on.
“For the last three months.” She yawned.
“Very funny.” He grabbed his sneakers and wiggled his bare feet into them.
“It’s only been bad since right before we went to bed. I figured if I got off my feet it would get better.”
“Shit. Why didn’t you say something? You’ve probably been in labor all night!”
“I couldn’t be. The pain would’ve woken me.”
“Right, Rip Van Trisha! You slept through your water breaking. Don’t you remember them talking about back labor in our childbirth classes?”
“What’s going on?” Haley knocked on the door. “Is the Brain comin’?”
When they’d found out they were having a boy, she’d loved the fact that she was Pinky to their little Brain.
Justin flung the bedroom door open. “Yes! Get Trisha’s keys and start her car while I bring her downstairs.” He grabbed the overnight case his wife had packed from the closet. “And take this down to the car.”
Haley scrubbed the sleep from her eyes and yawned. “Can I go with you?”
“Only if you can be dressed in less than a minute.”
Trisha doubled over again, clutching her stomach. “Hurry! It’s been a lot less than five minutes.”
Haley left the suitcase and raced down the hall to her bedroom. She returned in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt before Justin could get Trisha’s robe on her.
“Don’t ju
st stand there!” he yelled. “Go, go, go!”
Haley grabbed the overnight bag. A second later, he heard her feet pounding down the staircase.
Justin scooped Trisha up and followed.
She struggled in his arms. “Put me down. You’re gonna strain your back!”
“I’m fine.” Or he would be if she’d stop fighting him.
“Do you have any idea how much I weigh right now?” She’d been worrying about how much weight she gained throughout her entire pregnancy.
“Less than a bulldozer and about eight pounds more than you will by tomorrow. I don’t wanna be the one catching our little Brain.”
By the time he lumbered down the stairs and out the door, Haley had pulled Trish’s Honda out of the three-car garage. He laid his wife on the back seat of the Accord. “I’d better ride back here with her. You drive, Pinky. And be careful.”
“But I’m not legal. Remember, I’m not supposed to drive before six a.m. on my probationary license.”
“I don’t give a damn. Drive! Hell, I’ll explain to the police if you get pulled over.”
“All right!” She backed out of the driveway. “But those two curses cost you fifty cents.”
“Damn and hell don’t count.”
“They’ll damn well count after Brain gets here,” Trisha muttered through her gritted teeth.
“Well, he isn’t here yet, and he better not arrive until we get to the hospital.”
“I don’t think I can promise that! Owww! I think he might be coming.”
“Oh, shit. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.” He ranked his fingers through his hair. “Whatever you do, don’t push!”
“That’s fifty cents more.” Haley laughed.
He looked around at where they were. “Change of plans, Pinky. Turn right at the corner. We’re goin’ to the Fosters. They live in the next subdivision. The first street after you turn, hang a left, and—”
“Relax. I know where their house is.”
Trisha grabbed her stomach again and groaned. “O-oh it hurts.”
“Focus and take short breaths, querida,” he coached her, doing the he-he-ha breathing they’d learned in their childbirth classes.
Thirty seconds later, Haley pulled into Matt and Abby’s driveway.
Don't Break My Heart (Return to Redemption, Book 6) Page 16
