“I…” Moira went very still in his grip. “Did you get in touch with the foundation?”
“Yeah. The day the letter came. I sent them an email saying thanks, but I’m not available.”
She pulled back enough to look up at him, searching his face with grave eyes. “You truly didn’t want to go?”
“And leave you and Caleb?” His voice sounded rusty now, the hurt thickening it. “No. I didn’t want to go.”
Moira retreated farther. The hands that had been pressed to his chest writhed as she wound her fingers together. “I thought I was doing the right thing for you. But today I realized I was listening to my fears more than anything.” She swallowed. “Did you think, Will? The way I asked?”
“Yeah. I thought. And I realized that I’m not very good at communicating with people. Not about what I feel. I’ve never had to try before. I also realized that I wasn’t completely honest with you. I was trying to hide the regrets I did feel. And that was stupid. I can talk to you. I just thought—” He stopped, lost for words.
“That I’d assume exactly what I did last night.”
He frowned. “But maybe you wouldn’t have, if I’d been open all along. If I’d said, ‘I loved it in Africa, but I love it here, too. With you, Moira.’”
“Is that what you’d have said?” she whispered.
He nodded.
“Will.” The strain on her face was heartbreaking, but no more so than the hope. “Do you really want to stay married to me?”
His throat closed, his chest spasmed. In a harsh whisper, he said, “More than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”
“Oh, Will.” She rushed into his arms again, and they were ready for her. She pressed her face to his shoulder, and he buried his in her cloud of copper curls. They rocked in place, a subtle, reassuring motion that came instinctively, comfort at its most primal. He knew he was probably holding her too tightly, but she didn’t seem to mind, and he couldn’t make himself unlock his arms from around her.
“I love you,” he said to the top of her head. “Maybe you can’t feel the same way about me, but don’t ever doubt me. I love you so damn much, it about ripped me apart when I was afraid you didn’t want me.”
Without loosening her arms at all, Moira tilted her head back to look at him. “You love me?” she asked, her voice cracking at the end, the vulnerability and uncertainty in it as excruciating as a blade between the ribs. “You really love me?”
He tried to smile. “I think I must have fallen in love with you that first night. I knew I shouldn’t do something as dumb as go in that hotel room with you, but…I couldn’t not. From the minute I saw you in the ballroom, I couldn’t look away. I never got your face out of my mind. You’d have heard from me as soon as I got back from Africa. I think I’d have spent two years praying you didn’t meet someone and get married while my back was turned.”
Her eyes filled again with a rush. “I fell in love with you, too. And, oh, so much more when you came to see me. And listened to Caleb’s heartbeat, and laid your hand on my stomach to feel him move. The expression on your face—” She choked to a stop.
“I should have told you,” Will said. “I thought you weren’t ready to hear those words. But I should have said them anyway. Maybe you’d have known that I wouldn’t leave you. Couldn’t leave you.”
She was the one smiling now, although her lips trembled. “I don’t know if I’d have believed you.”
His fingers tightened. “Do you now?”
There was something dazed in her eyes. After a moment she gave the smallest of nods. “Yes. I do. Part of me thinks I’m dreaming, but…I do believe you. Oh, Will. I love you so much!”
He kissed her then, using mouth and teeth and tongue to show her how hungry he was for her. The kiss wasn’t just about wanting her body. Although he did. God, he did. She kissed him back so fervently, he knew she felt the same. She still wanted to get inside him, and she wanted him inside her just as much.
Caleb let out a cry. When his parents ignored it, he got serious with a frustrated wail.
Will and Moira separated, only a few inches. He felt a grin stretching his mouth and loved the answering smile on hers.
“Oh, dear,” she said. “He thinks this is his time of day with Daddy. He’s not used to us ignoring him.”
Will stooped and picked up Caleb, murmuring, “You felt left out, didn’t you? I’m so sorry, buddy. So sorry.”
Moira kissed Caleb’s cheek, then briefly rested her cheek against Will’s arm. “This is my second favorite time of day. When you come home.”
“What’s your favorite?” he asked in a low rumble.
She gave a little laugh. “You know.”
Cradling Caleb in both arms, Will bent his head and nuzzled his wife’s ear. “Mine, too,” he said huskily. “And I’m already thinking about it.”
A little shyly, she said, “Good.”
Gently bouncing Caleb, Will said, “So, what’s for dinner?”
Moira laughed. “A pot roast.”
“Even though you were afraid I wasn’t coming home?”
Her smile, glorious and uncomplicated by any doubt whatsoever, stole his breath. “But you see,” she said, “I was being optimistic.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “I’ve cured you of pessimism?”
As if startled, she was quiet for a minute, her lips parted. When she answered, she sounded bemused. “I think maybe you have. Or at least, that I’m learning. What a funny feeling.”
On a surge of emotion that filled him to aching, Will said, “You’ll get used to it. I’ll help. I promise.”
“You’re a good and kind man, Will Becker,” she told him.
“And an honest one.”
“Yes, I believe you are.” Her mouth curved once again.
“There I go again. Optimistic.” The smile turned into a laugh. “I’ll get dinner on. That will bring bedtime closer.”
“Our favorite time of day.” Will took a deep breath.
“Damn, it’s good to be home,” he said, and headed for the bathroom. Their son needed a clean diaper.
Bedtime would come soon enough.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-7643-1
THE BABY AGENDA
Copyright © 2010 by Janice Kay Johnson
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*Lost…But Not Forgotten
†The Russell Twins
The Baby Agenda Page 22
