He was silent then, and she thought that was the end of the discussion. Then he said, “I’ll drive you out in the morning.”
She was startled and she half turned in the darkness to face him. “That’s silly. It would take you more than an hour round-trip.” Then it occurred to her that he might be worrying about his niece’s safety, so she said, “I’m a careful driver. Alexa will be safe with me.”
He chuckled and his voice was warm with amusement in the intimate cocoon of midnight that surrounded them. “My motives are purely selfish. If I take you, then I have to come back and pick you up. Nothing is going to keep you from coming home to me for even one night.”
That shook her so completely that her mind went blank. By the time she realized she should say something, so much time had elapsed that anything would sound strange. So she remained silent, but she rolled fully into his arms so that her body was aligned with his, throwing her leg over his and wrapping her arms around him. He rolled onto his back, taking her with him and settling her on his chest so that the steady sound of his heartbeat lulled her to sleep with her limbs still twined around him.
On Saturday morning, they overslept. Frannie hadn’t set an alarm, since Alexa was always hungry around 6:00 a.m. It figured that she would decide to stretch her night’s sleep to nearly eight.
Frannie woke first, raising her head from Jack’s chest to check the clock face when she realized the room was lighter than it should be. “Holy cow!” She leaped off him, covers flying. Had something happened to Alexa in the night?
“What’s wrong?” Jack bolted out of bed from a sound sleep, shaking his head to clear it.
“I have to check the baby.” She left the room at a run.
She never slept this late. Had she stopped breathing? Smothered in the blanket?
After a glance at the clock, he ran after her. Frannie reached the crib an instant before he did—
—and stopped dead. Jack skidded to a halt right behind her.
“She’s fine.” She gazed at the baby, who had started to stretch and squirm from her sleep when she heard voices. Adrenaline was still rushing through her veins, and she put one hand on the crib rail for support, the other over her heaving breast. “Thank God she’s all right.”
“I can’t believe she slept this long. That’s over nine hours.” Jack’s voice was awed.
She had regained some of her composure and she looked over her shoulder at him. “I’m sorry if I scared you. I just had this horrible fear that something had happened—”
“I know.” He reached around her and set his hands on the rail, too, enclosing her within the circle formed by his arms as he dropped a kiss to the top of her bare shoulder. “I flipped, too, when I saw what time it was.” He looked down at his niece. “Good morning, princess. I bet you’ll be ready for action today.”
They both laughed when a beatific smile spread over the baby’s face and she squealed in a distinct effort to greet them.
His chest pressed against her back as they both leaned over the crib, and she realized that they were both stark naked. Sheepishly she said, “I hope seeing us like this won’t scar her for life.”
Jack laughed. “In about two minutes, she’s going to get hungry. She’ll have forgotten all about us.” Then he stiffened behind her. “Oh, man, tell me it isn’t really eight o’clock.”
Simultaneously they straightened and looked at each other. “We’re late!”
As it turned out, they just made it. After thirty minutes of rushing around dressing and gathering up baby supplies before driving off, they pulled into the driveway of her family home at exactly the time she’d promised to arrive. Jack would still make the tournament if he didn’t linger when he dropped her off.
None of her brothers were in sight as he carried Alexa in her portable infant seat to the front porch and set her down. “I can’t stay right now, but when I come back, I want to meet your family.”
“All right. I hope the tournament’s a success.” She looked up at him and couldn’t prevent herself from smoothing her palm over the shoulder of his uniform, loving the solid feel of the muscle beneath. Then she thought of the sport in which he was about to participate, and the sound of bodies hitting the ground came all too clearly. “Be careful.”
“Don’t worry.” He took her by the waist and pulled her against him. “You’re my battery pack. This will keep me going when my energy’s just a memory.” Then his arms went around her, and as his mouth came down, she met him eagerly, straining against him with all the love she couldn’t voice, until he reluctantly broke the kiss. “If you don’t walk up those steps right now, we’re liable to give your family a biology lesson.”
She smiled, scratching her nails up and down his back in the manner he loved, making him arch like a big cat under her hands. “Is that so?”
“That’s so.” He pressed a final, hard kiss to her lips and stepped back. “Think of me today.”
“Aye-aye, cap’n.” She saluted him with her right hand and smiled brilliantly as he turned away, keeping the smile pinned on until his newly purchased van rolled down the driveway. As the sound of the engine faded, so did her smile, until she briskly shook herself and reached for the handle of the infant carrier. She was not going to moon over the man all day like some lovesick cow.
Behind her the front door opened.
“Was the guy you were just peeling yourself away from the same guy who answered your phone when Robert called the other night?” Her brother Donald didn’t sound as if he was very happy. Oh, well, he’d never been a morning person.
“It was,” she answered levelly. “His name is Jack Ferris.”
“And when do we get to meet him?” Donald was taller than she, but she’d taken care of him for too many years to be intimidated when he stepped forward.
“He’ll be back to pick me up this evening. And—” she poked a stiff finger into her brother’s chest “—you will be polite to him, young man.”
Donald held the threatening posture for a long moment. Then his lips twitched. As they both burst out laughing, he reached out to hug her. “Ah, Frannie, we really miss you.”
Eight
When the van crunched to a halt in the driveway of Frannie’s brother’s house that evening, Jack took his time releasing his seat belt and getting out of the van. Part of the reason was his left knee, on which he’d held ice the whole way out here to try to limit the spread of the enormous bruise that was slowly, inexorably forming. The other part was curiosity. Frannie had grown up in this house; he wanted to be able to picture her here.
In counterpoint, a little voice in his head was telling him to move, to get inside the house and find his woman. He was doing his best to ignore it.
Driving away earlier in the day, he’d had the weirdest feeling...he didn’t want to play lacrosse, didn’t want to spend his Saturday hanging out with his teammates at a nearby watering hole between games. He wanted to be with Frannie and Alexa.
He had told himself he was pathetic. Peer pressure was getting to him. Just because almost all of his pals went home to warm-bodied wives and lively, bouncing little ones at the end of the day didn’t mean he had to.
Just because the guys spent half their bench time discussing pediatricians and preschools didn’t mean he had to. So what if he’d happened to mention his day care dilemma and Quentin Jernigan had said he’d check his son’s day care and see if they had any openings in the infant room coming up soon.
Just because Slick Wetzall had had his four-month-old daughter at the game, showing her off to anybody who would look, didn’t mean he had to. And just because he’d held Slick’s little kid until someone else protested that he was hogging the baby didn’t mean he wanted a pack of his own.
When he’d realized Stu had more than enough players to make up a team, he’d forced himself not to hop in his new, family-oriented van and hightail it back out to Taneytown. So he’d stayed, playing half-assed lacrosse and counting the hours till the tournament�
��s end. Just because he couldn’t concentrate on another damned thing except those sweet little noises Frannie made when he pushed himself into the warm center of her didn’t mean he was letting himself think of her too much.
He refused to be ruled by any part of his body other than his brain.
But that’s just what had been happening, he assured himself. Great sex was a rarity. Having it with someone you liked and enjoyed being with was a definite bonus. So how come, when Wendy Marshall, with whom he’d spent a few totally incredible nights during the bad days after Lannette left, had walked by and winked familiarly at him, he hadn’t had the slightest desire to chase her down and renew old ties?
Compatibility. That’s all it was. He and Frannie could talk, something he’d never known with Wendy. Or Lannette either, for that matter. He’d spent so much of his time with Lannette simply trying to be with her that he’d never noticed it before.
He decided that being with Frannie, with her warmth, her sense of humor and her practical streak, was infinitely preferable to the Wendys of the world. And, if he was honest, far better than being with his wife had ever been.
From there, it was an easy leap to the next decision.
He would marry Frannie.
Once he’d sworn he would never get trapped in matrimony again, but this was different. He might not love her, but he liked her, which was far more important. Frannie was his friend as well as the woman who had writhed beneath him in passion a few hours ago. As his body recalled just exactly how enthusiastically she had writhed, the jockstrap he wore beneath his uniform shorts became a prison, and he adjusted himself to relieve the pressure a bit. Better not think about that part of their relationship. Instead, he’d better consider the best way to get Frannie to agree to marry him.
She didn’t have that hungry, hunting look that so many unattached women did, that yes-I’ll-marry-you-tomorrow attitude. She had never mentioned any permanence between them. He had, and it hadn’t escaped him that she’d made no comment whatsoever. In fact, she seemed to take a mental step back, retreat into herself, whenever he pushed too hard. And the harder he pushed, the more remote she became. Last night, when he’d blurted out that stupid comment about wishing she were coming to the tournament, her whole body had stiffened in his arms for a second, though all she’d done was remind him that she’d made this other commitment.
As he limped toward the little ranch house with its light brick and faded, yellow paint, the same color that decorated the small stable set at the back of the lot, the way to get Frannie to agree to wear his ring came to him.
Court her. That’s what he’d have to do. Tricky, certainly, with Lex as his permanent sidekick, but definitely doable. Yep, he’d court her, make her feel special, let her see how good a union between them could be for both of them as well as Lex. He didn’t love her, didn’t want to spend every waking minute with her, so he’d never be in the same position he’d been in with Lannette.
Never again. But he could make her feel special, because she would be.
The front door flew open just as he began to mount the three steps, and Frannie appeared. As she hurried down the steps and wedged herself under his arm as a living crutch—which felt damn good, both for his knee and for the rest of him—she demanded, “What in the world happened?”
“Yeah, I missed you, too,” he said wryly.
She stopped dead, slanting a sudden smile his way. “I’m glad you’re back.”
He supposed it could have been worse. But it sure as hell could have been better.
He’d made a pest of himself once, simply by wanting to share his whole life with his wife. And what had happened? She’d accused him of making her feel like a Siamese twin, of never giving her any “space,” whatever the hell that meant
Then Frannie stepped in front of him, lightly placed her hand against his chest for balance and lifted herself on tiptoe to give him a gentle kiss, and he forgot everything but the feel of her soft mouth welcoming him.
“There,” she said, and her eyes were dancing. “Is that better?”
“A little.” He put his hand to her head, threading his big, rough fingers through the fine silk of her dark hair to cradle her skull. Holding her in place, he returned the kiss—his way. Harder, deeper, hotter, until she was making that little purring sound that turned him on even more. “That’s better,” he said, releasing her.
The sound of a throat clearing with an ostentatious cough startled them both. Looking over Frannie’s head, he checked out the man standing in the doorway. He was a good bit younger than himself, Jack figured, and not nearly as big, though he had to be close to six foot. And he looked exactly like Frannie. Or as close as a man could look, given the addition of whiskers and the absence of a dash of makeup.
Meeting a man whose sister had just given you the extra leg in your pants wasn’t exactly an auspicious start, but he guessed there was no help for it.
Mounting the final step, Jack stuck out his hand. It was always good to take an offensive posture. “Jack Ferris. Nice to meet you.”
The guy stepped up and took the offered hand, and for a moment they did the ritual familiar only to men who judged one another on the basis of a firm handshake. When Jack finally squeezed the bones of the younger man’s hand just enough to hurt a teeny bit, the guy relaxed his grip first. An important victory. “I’m Donald Brooks, Frannie’s brother. Come on in. What happened to the knee?”
“A freight train.” When Frannie and Donald both cast him identical, uncomprehending glances, he explained. “I made the stupid mistake of turning my head away from the defenseman in front of me for a minute too long. Got royally slammed. I think my knee might have been the first part of me to hit the ground.”
Frannie winced. “I don’t want to hear this.”
They showed him into a modest living room decorated in navy and mauve, and he eased into a chair. Frannie propped his injured leg on a hassock and zipped off to get ice and check on Alexa, who was napping, she said.
Donald leaned back in a chair across from him and crossed his arms. “So,” he said, “what do you do?”
“Advertising,” Jack said easily. “That’s how Frannie and I met.”
“What happened to your wife?”
Jack raised an eyebrow. “She left me.” It was way out of line, but he was determined not to pick a fight with Frannie’s brother.
“She left you with a baby that young?” Donald’s expression was scandalized. “Why?”
He couldn’t help it. The laughter had to dribble out or he’d burst. “My wife left a long time ago. I don’t have any kids,” he explained, chuckling as Donald’s expression turned to chagrin at his assumptions. “The baby is my niece.” He felt the amusement flee and sorrow step into its place. “My brother and his wife were killed in an accident right after she was born.”
Frannie had come back into the room with a towel and the ice pack during the last part. She leveled a warning look at her brother. “Stop it, Donald.” To Jack, she said, “I apologize in advance for anything he might say. He thinks he’s my protector. If he doesn’t approve of you, it’s a duel at dawn with water pistols.”
Donald grinned, and Jack decided that under the right circumstances, Frannie’s brother could be an okay kind of guy. To his sister, Donald said, “Somebody has to look out for you, sister, dear. After the last fiasco, I’m vetting all your dates.”
Jack could tell the moment Donald uttered the words that he regretted them. An awkward silence fell. Frannie didn’t reply, but Jack could have sworn her lip trembled for an instant. And in that instant he sensed that here was the information he needed to figure out what made her tick. He wasn’t leaving this house tonight until he had that secret.
Donald rose from his chair. “Jeez, I’m sorry, Frannie. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” He clunked himself in the forehead with his fist. “Billy’s right. I’m a dope even when I don’t work at it.”
“But sometimes you’re definitely a b
igger dope than others.” It was a new voice, wry and clearly affectionate, and they all turned toward the speaker. Lounging in the kitchen entry was a boy—young man—Jack figured was probably about college age. His dark hair was long enough to pull back in a stubby ponytail, and an earring glinted from one ear. “Your wife wants you to start the grill when you’re done being a doofus,” he informed Donald. Then he walked across the room to Jack’s chair and shook his hand. “Hi, I’m Billy.”
Jack noticed there was none of the macho stuff in this handshake. Billy clearly regarded him as the dominant male in the room. It made sense. Jack figured anybody who ran around in shorts big enough for two people and worn with the crotch dragging halfway to his knees would have a hell of a time convincing anybody of his machoness.
Frannie made introductions while Donald quietly disappeared. Billy was her youngest brother, and it quickly became apparent that he was the broadcaster of the family chronicles. Without being asked.
He told Jack he was currently studying business management at the University of Maryland. In between Donald and Billy came Robert-of-the-phone-call, who was on a minivacation with his wife for the weekend, leaving their three kids with Donald and his wife. Which was why, Billy went on, they had called on Frannie today when one of their kids had a doctor’s appointment scheduled....
Frannie interrupted Billy’s ramblings. “So when did the earring join your wardrobe?” she asked.
Billy grinned. “Now, now, Maw,” he said. “I’m a big boy, remember? I got the ear pierced about three weeks ago. I was going to ask if you like it, but I suspect I already know the answer.”
“I suspect you do.” Frannie walked across the room and hugged her little brother, who topped her willowy height by several inches. “But I still love you.”
Billy stuck a finger into her ribs, which made her scream and leap away. “Actually, I’m thinking about a nose ring. Or maybe one in my belly button.”
“Right.” She prudently kept a chair between her ribs and Billy’s tickling fingers. “I can’t believe you even got the earring without someone holding you down. I know you and pain, remember? The guy who fainted when they drew blood for your high school physical?” She turned to Jack with a wide smile. “I got this call from the school office that I had to come get him—”
The Baby Consultant Page 13
