Passionate Kisses

by Various

Her eyes lit up and she did a little dance with her feet, her shoes clapping against the hardwood floor. “Yes! Can you believe it?”

  He had prepared himself for this moment. He’d told himself he’d have to look happy for her even if he wasn’t, but one look at her luminous eyes, at the excitement brimming from every pore in her body, and he found himself grinning ear to ear.

  “Congratulations, Sam. I’m thrilled for you.” Amazingly, he was. He’d never seen her in such high spirits. She was positively beaming. How could he be anything but happy for her?

  Her smile faded slightly although her eyes continued to glow. “Thank you, John. You don’t know how much I—” Her words caught in her throat, and moisture rimmed her beautiful eyes.

  He pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “It was my pleasure, Sam. Truly.” As he held her, her joy was a bittersweet ache in his gut. And his heart. Finally, he set her away from him. “So, when is the baby due? Do you have any idea?”

  She looked like a child who’d just been given a free pass to a carnival. “Well, obviously I haven’t seen a doctor yet, but according to my calculations, I’m due around Christmas.” She stepped closer to him and cupped his face. She kissed him. “Thank you.”

  He carefully peeled her hands away. “You already thanked me.” He gave her a teasing grin, lest she read something in his expression he’d rather she didn’t see.

  “That was for getting me pregnant. The kiss was for being happy for me.”

  “Of course I’m happy for you. Our plan was to get you pregnant, wasn’t it?”

  She blinked a couple of times, staring into his eyes. “I-I thought you might not be too pleased to hear my news.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “Well, because… because you know this means we won’t be... seeing each other anymore. I thought you hoped I wasn’t pregnant yet.”

  He released a quick breath. “Well, I won’t lie and say I didn’t wish it had taken a bit longer, but…” He shrugged and gave her a careful smile. “But hey, this was the plan all along, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, it was.” Her words were quiet. She pulled the lapels of her coat together. “Well, I guess I should be going.”

  No! He wasn’t ready to let her go. “You don’t need to leave already, do you? There’s a great old movie on the tube in a few minutes. I can make popcorn.”

  It annoyed him she even had to contemplate his offer. Normally, she’d have jumped at the invitation. But that was before. He bit back a frown.

  “Come on, Sam,” he said when his emotions were under control. “Just because you found out you were pregnant tonight doesn’t mean we can’t spend a little more time together, does it?” She still looked indecisive. “Rock, scissors, paper. You win, you can leave. I win, you stay.”

  “You always win that game.”

  “So stay. I’ll put butter on the popcorn this time.”

  She smiled then. “Boy, you drive a hard bargain, don’t you?”

  They watched an old Bette Davis movie, one of his favorites, but he didn’t enjoy it at all. Sam was preoccupied and fidgety. Instead of cuddling next to him as she usually did, she sat at the opposite end of the couch.

  It was close to midnight when the movie ended. Before the final credits had begun to roll, she stood. He rose, too. Their eyes met.

  “Stay with me tonight,” he said softly.

  A gamut of emotions flitted through her eyes and he thought she might say yes. “I can’t.”

  “Samantha.” He stepped closer to her and trailed a finger down her arm. “I want to make love to you.”

  “John, we’re already playing with fire here.”

  Which meant she wasn’t so nonchalant about parting as she seemed. This pleased him. “Then what’s one more night going to matter?” He wasn’t going to beg. Okay, maybe he was. “Please, Sam.”

  They stared into each others’ eyes for indeterminable moments. Then, wordlessly, she moved into his arms.

  Sometime in the middle of the night, through the haze of sleep, John felt her lips on his. Soft, sweet, delicious... then the sensation passed. Sleep overtook him again.

  He awoke at dawn. Pale light seeped through the wooden blinds. The house was completely silent. He felt cold, even under the comforter. He opened his eyes and turned his head.

  Sam was gone.

  “Summer’s over,” he whispered aloud. He closed his eyes.

  Chapter 16

  Sam hung her head, sweat dripping from her brow, as she gripped the edge of the toilet seat with trembling fingers. When she was sure the nausea had passed, she stood. Splashing cold water on her face, she stared at her haggard reflection. No matter how much rest she got, she was always exhausted. Yesterday, she’d fallen asleep at her desk during her lunch break. And this morning sickness — she couldn’t imagine feeling much worse. Everyone told her the first twelve weeks were the toughest. Well, she was counting them. Two to go.

  Sam groaned. She’d never make it.

  No one had warned her she’d feel this crappy. No one told her about the nonstop mood swings. She closed the bathroom door and studied her naked reflection in the full-length mirror. Placing her hands on her still-flat belly, she took a deep breath. It would all be worth it.

  As usual, when she thought of this baby, she also thought of John. It had been almost four weeks since she’d last seen him. That night had been beautiful. He’d made such sweet, gentle love to her. She’d known it would be hard to leave him, knowing she probably wouldn’t see him again. But that was how they both wanted it. Like she’d told him that night, they’d been playing with fire long enough. She hadn’t wanted to prolong the inevitable, so she’d left while he’d slept, preventing an emotional and possibly teary good-bye the next morning.

  God, she missed him. But this is how it had to be. John was adamant about not wanting children and she was adamant about raising this child by herself.

  Alone would be difficult. Alone would be lonely. But alone was safer.

  Getting seriously involved with John would open herself to total heartbreak, she was certain. He’d told her himself that marriage didn’t agree with him and she had no reason not to believe him.

  She missed John, but she had no regrets. She turned on the shower. As she waited for the water to warm, she chastised herself for even thinking along those lines. John clearly had no regrets either. He’d made no more of an effort to contact her than she had him. She wondered about that. Had he moved on? Did he have a new girlfriend? Did he play the piano for her and cook for her and offer his hot tub when she was feeling—?

  “Oh, knock it off!” she scolded her steamy reflection. She was acting like a lovesick child. Enough. John’s life was his own business. She frowned and stepped into the tub, pulling the shower curtain closed behind her.

  Everything was turning out just the way she’d planned. John had stuck to his part of the bargain, and she’d stuck to hers. She was expecting a baby. She was happy.

  She was.

  Brian appeared more sullen than usual today, John thought, glancing at the boy in the passenger seat. Over the past few weeks, they’d spent more time together as he managed to sneak away from work most days to give the boy a ride home. The more opportunities Brian had to avoid trouble, the better off he’d be. Although Brian hadn’t opened up much yet, John felt he was getting to know him better, getting to know his moods.

  He didn’t need to psychoanalyze his reasons behind his sudden extra interest in the boy, or why he’d been working longer hours at the gym lately, or why he’d been spending countless hours muddling through red tape for the youth center. It was to keep his mind off Sam, plain and simple. It had been almost a month since he’d last seen her, but it felt like a year. He hadn’t known he could miss someone so much. He missed talking to her, he missed seeing her, he missed making love to her.

  He just missed her. Period.

  He felt like he had a big, empty cavern in his soul that she used to occ
upy. Being in love and not being able to do anything about it really stunk.

  He’d been so surprised and dismayed to wake to find her gone that last morning, having left without a word. But upon later reflection, he knew he’d probably have done the same thing. That final good-bye would have been pure torture.

  Brian’s quiet sigh brought John’s mind to the present. “What’s bothering you, Bri?” he asked, turning the last corner before Brian’s house.

  “You mean besides the fact that my mom’s an addict and we’re livin’ with the world’s biggest asshole?” His words were dry, but John heard the bitter undercurrent.

  “Yeah. Besides that.”

  For a few silent moments, he thought the boy would ignore the question, but then Brian mumbled, “I can’t find a job.”

  “You’re looking for one?”

  “Yeah, but no one wants to hire me. Say I don’t fit their profile, whatever that shit means.”

  “Where have you applied?”

  Brian shifted in the seat of the BMW and stared vacantly out the window. “McDonalds, Subway, Burger King. Glad they didn’t want me, cuz I’da had to wear those pussy-ass uniforms.”

  “What do you need money for?”

  Brian shrugged. “Stuff.”

  John’s eyes narrowed and he shot the kid a hard glance. “What kind of stuff?”

  “Just… stuff. Nothing that would interest you.” Brian’s bony shoulders rotated further toward the passenger window.

  “Drugs?” John asked bluntly.

  Brian whipped around in the seat. “Shit no!” Obviously embarrassed by his adamant outburst, he went sullen again. “I seen what drugs do to my mom,” he said, his voice flat. “Don’t want to mess with ‘em.”

  John’s brows lifted. “So why do you need money? Come on, out with it.”

  Brian squirmed in his seat. “I, um, owe Earl some money.”

  “How much?”

  Brian’s hands clenched his baggy jeans above the knees. “Two hunnerd,” he muttered.

  “Why do you owe him so much money?”

  “I, um, kinda stole it from him,” Brian mumbled. “I actually swiped only a hunnerd fifty, but Earl says I have to pay him two. What really sucks is the awesome shoes I bought with the money were stolen from me. Earl gave me to the end of the week or he’s gonna kick me and my mom back out on the streets.”

  John frowned and pulled in front of Brian’s house. He knew it would do no good to scold the boy for stealing, or to say that Earl was right in expecting payment. The words would fall on deaf ears. His own parents had scolded him until they were blue in the face, and it hadn’t done any good. This boy needed John’s support more than he needed to be disciplined right now.

  Brian started to get out of the car and John said, “Wait a sec.” He fished into his back pocket for his wallet and pulled out ten twenty-dollar bills, then handed them across the console. “Here.”

  Brian stared wide eyed at the proffered money, but didn’t take it. “You’re giving me the money?”

  John shook his head. “I’m lending it to you. You’re gonna pay me back.”

  “But how? I can’t find a job and then I’ll owe you and—”

  John cut off the adolescent whining. “I need some work done in my yard. Instead of hiring it out, you can help me.”

  Brian looked stunned. “You— you want to hire me?”

  John nodded. “You can start Saturday. I figure a month worth of weekends should about do it.” He pushed the money into Brian’s hands.

  A giant smile lit the kid’s face, the first genuine smile John had seen from him. “Man! This is great, Mr. E. Thanks. I’ll do anything you need. Pull weeds, dig holes, damn, I’ll even shovel dog shit for ya if you have a dog.”

  Brian’s first thought upon seeing John’s house was, “Jee-sus, Mr. E lives in a friggin’ mansion.”

  “Come on in,” John said after pulling the car into the garage.

  “Really?” Brian asked, hoping his jaw hadn’t dropped to the ground.

  “What, you thought I’d make you stay outside all day?” Brian blushed and John waved him toward the door. “I thought we’d have lunch before getting to work. We men need our energy, right?”

  We men? Cool. Brian grinned as he followed John into the house.

  Inside was even more amazing than outside. Earl’s whole pathetic house could fit inside Mr. E’s kitchen. “Cool house, Mr. E,” Brian said, trying to keep the awe out of his voice.

  John pulled sandwich fixings out of the refrigerator. “You know, if you’d told my dad twenty years ago that I’d have a place like this, he’d have said the Devil was talkin’ through you.”

  “Really?” Brian stood awkwardly in the corner of the kitchen, not knowing if John would want him to sit at the counter or what.

  “He thought I’d never amount to anything. I think he expected me to live my glory days in a prison cell somewhere.”

  Brian leaned against the counter and glanced at John out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t seem to mind that Brian was touching his stuff. “Your old man sounds like an asshole.” He immediately regretted the words. He couldn’t believe he’d just insulted Mr. E’s—

  John’s deep chuckle cut off Brian’s internal chastisement. “That he was.”

  Brian breathed an inward sigh of relief. “Was? He— he ain’t alive?”

  John sliced two gigantic hoagie rolls and laid them flat on the cutting board. “He died a long time ago. But even if he were still alive, he’d probably find fault with what I’ve achieved. Think I came by it illegally or something.”

  “That sucks.”

  “Yeah.” John glanced up at him. “You can sit down, you know.” He grinned.

  Brian sat on the wooden stool at the center island where John was putting together the sandwiches. Brian’s stomach rumbled and he hoped John hadn’t heard. He hadn’t eaten since last night, and that had been a bowl of stale, dry Froot Loops eaten straight from the box.

  “You want the works?” John asked, nodding at all the fixings.

  Brian nodded. “Except no onions. Raw ones give me gas.”

  John laughed. “No onions, it is.”

  As Brian bit into the mouth-watering sandwich a few moments later and chugged an ice cold cola, he thought this was the best meal he’d ever had.

  After spending all Saturday afternoon cutting out flower beds in both front and back yards, and then tearing up the sod, they’d worked up a huge appetite. John had pizza delivered and Brian got to choose whatever toppings he wanted and he wanted just about everything except those salty, lame-ass anchovy things. And then John had suggested Brian spend the night because he’d be working there Sunday anyway and he’d called his mom to ask. Even though she was too wasted to come to the phone and Earl called him “shithead” at least four times in the two-minute call, Brian didn’t care. He was spending the night at Mr. E’s. He didn’t have to go home.

  After pizza, he and John drove to a nearby Redbox, then stayed up past midnight watching all the Terminator movies and scarfing Doritos, popcorn and anything else he wanted to eat. It was awesome. That night, he slept in John’s guest bed with clean sheets and a big, fluffy comforter, and the next morning, he had something other than Froot Loops for breakfast.

  Could life possibly get any better?

  Snapping the latex gloves in place, Sam grimaced as she slowly reached into Wayne’s cage. The pathetic creature backed into the corner of the aquarium, its body trembling.

  “Yeah, well, I don’t like you much either, rat-boy. Unfortunately, your cage is smelling mighty rank and I gotta clean it. Which means you need to come out for a while.” She inched her hand closer to the animal. “Which means I gotta,” gulp, “pick you up.” Wayne sniffed at her gloved fingers. “If you bite me, I swear I’ll deliver you straight to the snake house at the Woodland Park Zoo.”

  With an expression on her face like she was picking up fresh doggie doo, she nabbed the rat with her thumb and forefing
er and transferred it to a waiting box. It skittered to the nearest corner and trembled. Sam stared at it. “Okay, maybe I was kidding about the snake house, so you can stop shaking.” It didn’t. “Look, you’re the creepy one, not me. I don’t have a long, ugly tail and dark beady eyes.” Wayne’s little head cocked to one side as if to evaluate her statement.

  “We got through this before, we’ll get through it again,” she muttered, turning to reach for the cage. As she finished dumping the old litter into a trash bag, the phone rang. Setting the cage down, she pulled off a glove and picked up the receiver with that hand. “Hello?”

  “Sam, it’s John.”

  John. She closed her eyes. “John,” she said softly, pleased to hear his voice. She took off the other glove.

  “It’s been a long time,” he said.

  Four weeks and five days and, oh, about seven hours, but who’s counting? “How are you?” she asked.

  “I think the question is, how are you?”

  God, she missed him. “Other than throwing up every morning and being so tired I can hardly think, I’m fine.”

  He chuckled, and the deep sound bounced along her nerve endings like a sensuous massage. “Boy, ten weeks along already, right?” he asked.

  “Ten and a half.”

  He laughed again. “It’s good to hear your voice. I’ve been thinking about you.”

  “I’ve been thinking about you, too.” She closed her eyes and pressed the phone closer to her cheek, as if to bring him closer, too. “Did… did you want to talk to me about something?”

  He cleared his throat. “Uh, yes. I wanted thank you for the Sharks tickets you sent. You should’ve seen the looks on those kids’ faces when Alex and I told them about the game and that they could meet some of the players afterward. They can’t wait.”

  She smiled, her gaze going to the terrified rodent in the box. It still hadn’t moved from the corner. “Pretty excited, huh?”

  “Oh, yeah. Even Brian was excited.”

  “How is he doing, by the way? You making any progress with him?”