Miracle Baby (Harlequin American Romance)

by Laura Bradford

  When he didn’t respond, she opened her eyes, saw him studying her with a look she couldn’t identify. “What?”

  “Wishes have a way of doing that, you know.”

  “Do they now?” she teased.

  “I happen to know you have a few more out there.”

  “I do?”

  Nodding, he stood and ventured into the hallway, returning with the two bags she’d brought over. He set the first one in her lap. “Open this first.”

  She looked from the bag to him and back again. “What did you do?”

  “I listened.”

  “You’re good at that.” She pulled the handles of the gift bag apart and peeked inside. The assortment of her favorite penny candies caught her by surprise. “Candy?”

  “It’s not exactly the lifetime supply you mentioned, but it’ll keep you busy for a while.” He dropped onto the sofa beside her. “The chocolate caramel twists were some of my favorites growing up.”

  She looked at him through the misty haze that suddenly filled her eyes. “How do you do it? How do you remember all of this?”

  He shrugged, then pulled his hand out from behind his back to reveal the second bag. “Now open this one.”

  “Rory, I can’t. You’ve done too much already.”

  He set it on her lap. “Please. This one is special.”

  “They’ve all been special.” And she meant it. She pried the handles of the second bag apart, a familiar scent wafting through the opening as she did so. “Oh, my gosh…you didn’t.”

  Reaching into the bag, she retrieved the tissue-wrapped plant from inside, the mist in her eyes finding its way down her cheeks.

  “There’s no reason you can’t hang it in your uncle’s suite. It’s a memory, you know?”

  “A wonderful memory,” she whispered. Raising it above his head, she leaned in for a kiss, only to stop just short of his lips. “Thank you, Rory. Thank you for everything.”

  HE CUPPED THE BACK OF HER head with his hand and pulled her close, the feel of her mouth on his obliterating any restraint he had left. When her lips parted ever so slightly, he pressed on, his tongue mingling with hers as his hands dropped to her waist.

  His body hardened as she scooted closer, slipping her arms around his neck. Dropping his lips to her chin and then her neck, he found himself wishing it was summer. A camisole or halter top would give easier access to the skin he longed to touch, to memorize.

  “Maggie,” he groaned as she wiggled closer, the swell of her breasts visible through her V-neck as she pressed against him. “You have no idea how often I think about you. You’re on my mind all the time.”

  She put her hand against his chest and leaned back. “Why?”

  It was a question he couldn’t believe she could ask, when the answers seemed so obvious. “Because you’re sweet. You’re special. You’re…” He pulled her onto his lap and nuzzled the side of her face with his nose. “You drive me wild.”

  “Wild?” she echoed, the word morphing into a soft moan as his hands traveled to the bottom of her sweater and slipped beneath the hemline.

  “Absolutely, positively wild.” Slowly, he moved his hands upward, savored the feel of her soft skin beneath his palms, the sensation broken only by the silky bra that blocked his path. Daunted for only a second, he unhooked the clasps, felt the material give way against the push of her rounded breasts.

  He stopped, met her eyes with his own, wordlessly pleaded for permission to continue. She, too, spoke without words as she grabbed hold of her sweater and lifted it over her head.

  SHE WATCHED HIM FROM beneath her lashes, his moan of appreciation giving her the courage to continue. If he noticed the angry scars on her arm, he didn’t mention them. Instead he simply stared at her in awe.

  “God, you are beautiful, Maggie,” he murmured as he jumped to his feet and clasped her hands in his. “Absolutely beautiful.” He leaned in and whispered against her ear, “Are you sure? I mean really, really sure?”

  She nodded, savoring the sensation of his breath on her skin. “I’m sure.”

  “Then let’s go upstairs,” he said, his voice husky with desire. “I want this to be perfect.”

  “It is perfect…right here.” She tipped her head toward the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree, the nibble of his lips on her neck making her body tingle. “It’s magical.”

  “Being here with you is what makes it magical.” His lips dropped lower, trailing his hands as they moved from her shoulders to her breasts. With quiet urgency he teased each nipple with his tongue, arousing her more.

  When he stopped to look at her, she reached for the buttons of his shirt and slowly undid each one, the feel of the cloth beneath her fingertips more than a little exciting. As she neared the bottom, the maroon-colored fabric fell open, affording an unobstructed view of his muscular chest….

  She wanted him. And he, no doubt, wanted her. She could see it in his eyes every bit as much as she could feel it in his touch.

  They made their way over to the tree, where he knelt on the rug and pulled her to him. Slowly, deliberately, he unfastened the buttons on her jeans, slid them down her thighs until they pooled at her feet. Then, reaching up, he inched her black lace panties down, a look of sheer admiration on his face.

  For the past week this man had listened to her thoughts, remembered her wishes. And one by one he’d made them come true, changing her life in the process.

  Now it was her turn.

  Maggie took charge, unfastening first his belt and then the button that held his jeans closed. Boldly she took the zipper between her teeth and lowered it, the most intimate parts of her growing wet with desire at the sight of his body craning toward hers.

  He pulled her to him, his hands resuming their exploration. Every caress, every kiss, every nibble, every stroke drove her closer and closer to the edge.

  She met his lips with her own, then moved lower—to his shoulders, his chest, his stomach, the inside of his thighs… When she took him in her mouth he cried out with desire, tangling his strong fingers in her hair.

  After several long moments he coaxed her back up, only to shift both of them to the floor. Covering her body with his, he entered her with a gentle authority that left her spinning. She moaned with pleasure at the feel of his length inside her, the rhythmic motions making it nearly impossible to breathe as he rose and fell against her again and again, their release coming at the same heart-stopping moment.

  FOR HOURS HE SIMPLY HELD her as she slept, his eyes commanding every inch of her body and every nuance of her face to his memory. It didn’t matter that he had to work in a few short hours, or that he hadn’t gotten so much as a wink of sleep yet. The only thing Rory cared about was lying in his arms. Sleeping peacefully.

  Maggie was everything he’d ever wanted. She was sweet, yet sexy. Funny, yet serious. Smart, yet innocent. And for whatever reason, she seemed to care about him, too.

  She’d been through so much. The angry red scar on her forearm was visual proof of that, while the push-pull of the past week signaled the part he couldn’t see.

  But that was about to change.

  He was going to keep her safe from here on out, loving her with everything he had. And he was going to give her the life she deserved—one filled with realized dreams and answered wishes.

  His mind made up, he finally closed his eyes, the sweet scent that was Maggie filling his senses as he drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Maggie rolled onto her side and nestled her head into the pillow, a shaft of sunlight warming the left side of her face as she became aware of a vaguely pleasant smell.

  Mmm, bacon.

  “Bacon?” Pushing up onto her elbow, she looked around at the sofa, the rug, the coffee table, Rory’s Christmas tree…

  Rory’s Christmas tree?

  “How on earth…” Confusion overtook her as she peered down at the unfamiliar blanket she clutched to her chest. Slowly, she pulled it back, and felt guil
t sweeping in. “Oh no…oh no…what have I done?”

  A door on the far side of the room opened. “Maggie? Are you awake?”

  Rory. She’d been with Rory last night. They’d made love….

  Suddenly she remembered it all. Every touch. Every kiss. Every thrust of desire. Every moan of pleasure.

  “Stop right there,” she begged, using the blanket as a shield. “Please. I—I have to get dressed. I have to go home.”

  “There’s no rush, sweetheart. I’m making breakfast right now.”

  She pushed herself to her feet, her heart thumping wildly. “I have to leave. Now.”

  He came around the sofa, opening his arms as he did. She backed up into the branches of the tree. “No. Please. I—I can’t. Oh…I can’t. Not again.”

  His smile faltered. “Maggie, what’s wrong?”

  “I made an awful mistake,” she said in a tear-choked voice. “An awful, awful mistake.”

  “What are you talking…” And then he stopped, her words wiping every last glimmer of joy from his face. “Maggie…please. Don’t say that. You were happy last night. I was happy.”

  “I wasn’t thinking,” she protested over the tears.

  “You’re right, you weren’t.” He reached for her. “You were feeling, Maggie.”

  “I don’t want to feel! It leads to pain. Every single time.”

  “But it doesn’t have to be like that.” He reached for her again, only to have her back up farther against the tree. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Do you think they wanted to leave?”

  “No, of course not. But that still doesn’t mean—”

  “Everyone I love disappears from my life. It’s like I’m some sort of bad penny.”

  A look of horror flashed across his face. “Don’t say that! Oh God, don’t say that.”

  “It’s true.” She clutched the blanket still tighter. “First my parents…then Jack and Natalie. I can’t do it again.”

  “You love your uncle, don’t you?” Rory stepped back, the hurt in his eyes a stark contrast to the calm of his voice. “He’s still here. He’s been here since you were a little girl.”

  Once Rory was far enough away, Maggie stepped forward, scooping up her neatly folded clothes from the top of the coffee table. “I’m sorry, Rory. I really am. But you mean too much to me to ever let this happen again.”

  IT WAS NEARLY THREE O’CLOCK before he arrived at the inn, and Maggie’s car was nowhere to be found. Rory knew he should be grateful for her absence after the way she’d stomped all over his heart, yet he wasn’t.

  In the week he’d known her, Maggie sightings had become the high point of his day. The moments they actually spent together—at the diner, at his home, in her suite, at the gift shop, in the car—only served to underscore that fact.

  And last night? Well, that had been like nothing he’d ever experienced before.

  Sure, he’d been with other women over the years—attractive, intelligent women who’d enjoyed his company as much as he had theirs. But Maggie was different.

  Her breathtaking beauty was only an exterior view of a woman who was sweet and true, honest and loyal….

  Loyal.

  He unlocked the front door of the inn and stepped inside, his feet leading him in a different direction than his heart begged to go. Maybe it was silly to take the hallway that bypassed Maggie’s suite, but he had to. Doing otherwise would be akin to stepping in front of a moving car.

  It was just as Delilah had said when he’d called her for words of wisdom after Maggie left. He couldn’t fix everything.

  It was a fact that was painful to hear and even more painful to accept, but if he removed his heart from the equation he knew she was right. He’d been trying so hard to fix Maggie’s pain he hadn’t given her room to breathe.

  The whole reason she’d come to Lake Shire was to find a way to move forward. And while he’d intended his gifts to help in that regard, they’d only served to muddy the waters.

  “Some things just need time and space, Rory.”

  Delilah’s voice filtered through his thoughts as he turned the corner into the room he was rehabbing. It made sense. It really did. But there was a part of him that was more than a little wary of that kind of advice.

  He’d gone that route with Reardon and it had backfired in ways he would regret for the rest of his life.

  Could he really take that chance with Maggie?

  He sat down on the pile of lumber in the center of the room and stared up at the beamed ceiling. Making love to Maggie had been everything he imagined and a million times more.

  And it wasn’t going to happen ever again.

  The truth of the situation was like a punch to the gut, one he knew would come again and again as they ran into each other around the inn. Unfortunately, it was the way things were as long as he was working for Maggie’s uncle.

  Which could only mean one thing…

  He needed to finish the job or find his own replacement.

  SHE WATCHED AS THE SUN slipped behind the trees, casting orange-and-red streaks across Lake Shire. So much in her life had changed since the first time she’d seen this lake.

  Maggie had gone from being a lost little girl to one with hope for a second chance at the family she’d lost. She’d gone from being married and having a child of her own to realizing second chances could blow up in her face, too. And she’d gone from spending her days staring aimlessly up at the ceiling to contemplating a new path—one she couldn’t help but feel excited about.

  Pulling her knees onto the seat, Maggie studied the lights dancing and shimmering atop the water. There was so much she regretted—every argument she’d ever had with Jack; the times she’d put Natalie in her crib to sleep rather than holding her while she napped; not remembering the diaper bag the last time.

  But if she cut herself some slack, she knew things had happened the way they were meant to happen. Couples argued, yet it didn’t mean they loved each other any less. Parents put their children in cribs to sleep so they could get things done. That way cuddles could happen during the all-important awake time. And as for the diaper bag…it had happened before. To her and countless other moms.

  No, a forgotten diaper bag hadn’t caused the accident. Fate and a patch of ice had.

  But knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less. It was a pain Maggie woke with every morning, and a pain she went to sleep with every night.

  Yet somehow, some way, she’d managed to find some footholds of late, the possibility of opening a gift shop of her very own the biggest one of all. Working on the frames and the ornaments had stirred something inside her. Something real. Just as realizing a dream tended to do.

  And it had been a dream. A big one. So why not chase it? Especially now, when she had more time than she ever wanted on her hands, and no one to spend it with? It was something to get her through the days, something to put her all into without sacrificing her heart once again.

  She closed her eyes in an effort to blot out the memory of Rory’s mouth on hers, his hands traveling every curve of her body, his tall lean form moving above her….

  No, she had to forget. She had to.

  Chapter Eighteen

  She glanced down at the documents in her hand, the whimsical logo she’d created sprawled across the top page.

  Natalie’s Nook.

  The name had come to her in a dream, after a long day of making frames, magnets, wall hangings and table decorations. And despite the late hour and the cloud of fatigue that hovered over her, she knew it was perfect.

  If not more than a little bittersweet.

  Yet as her inventory had mounted, along with her excitement over the past two weeks, something was still missing.

  Such as having someone to share it with.

  More than once Maggie had found herself with her hand on the doorknob and Rory in her thoughts. Yet each time she’d simply made her way back to whatever craft she was working on at that moment. Rory was busy�
��working morning, noon and night, if the nearly constant hammering was any indication. And seeking him out to talk about the gift shop wasn’t fair. Not when he had feelings for her.

  And you for him…

  She sat on the edge of her bed and stared down at the documents, willed her mind to focus on the legwork she’d laid in place in order to embark on her dreams. If she could just keep focused on the shop, she’d learn to forget.

  Or would she?

  Making crafts still left her time to think. If she designed a picture frame to reflect the beach, she recalled vacations she’d taken with Jack. If she designed a sample frame for her Everlasting Smiles line, she imagined her daughter’s sweet face. If she made a tabletop decoration, she thought of colors they might have liked or ideas they might have had. And as she finished each and every project, she longed to show it to Rory.

  Shifting the papers to the bed, she stood up, distracting thoughts and feelings lending an aimless quality to her mood. What was her problem? She was doing the right thing. She really was.

  She just hadn’t expected to hurt so much.

  RORY WAVED AT VIRGINIA and headed for his favorite table in the back, the exhaustion of his fourteen-day workathon leaving him with aches from head to toe. Throwing himself into the inn’s restoration had been a good call, the long days keeping him busy. The busier he was, the less time he had to think and second-guess his every move.

  Unfortunately, the moment he slipped his hammer into his belt that all changed. In a flash he’d find himself analyzing every word he’d said, every step he’d taken, every move he could have done differently.

  Which was why he’d ignored the bone-numbing exhaustion that had begged him to go home for dinner. At least at Delilah’s there’d be people to talk to other than the voices in his head that refused to shut up.

  “Well, would you look at what the cat dragged in,” Delilah said as he stepped onto the elevated back section he preferred. “Why, I thought you’d upped and moved clear to the other side of the country since the last time we spoke. That, or you defected over to Larchmont in favor of Sam’s place.”