She broke off, and he felt a bit tight beneath his zipper. Growing uncomfortably tight.
“And I’m particularly easy on the eyes where the ladies are concerned,” he pointed out with a grin, hoping to defuse the moment. But he managed to turn the air between them in the car so thick he could hardly draw in a complete breath as he met her gaze.
His words faded as their gazes locked, hers seeming to darken, and the next move had to be a kiss. It was destined, with a moment like that.
He stopped himself from tilting toward her, though. Because some things mattered a hell of a lot more than sex.
“We just have to make certain nothing happens,” she said slowly, looking toward his mouth.
“You’re right,” he said the words with more force than he’d intended. “I’ve already determined that it can’t happen on my end, either. Not now, at any rate. Not anytime soon,” he continued, telling himself as much as her. “Sex between us would only complicate an already complicated situation.”
He was pretty sure there’d been a flash of disappointment showing before she blinked. Nodded. Tried to give him what was probably meant to be a relieved smile. And then she asked, “Just out of curiosity, can I ask...is there something...unattractive about me?”
Confusion flooded him.
So...what...she’d been hoping he’d say yes?
He needed to open his fly and relieve some of the pressure. But he dealt with the pain instead.
The woman’s mixed messages were wreaking havoc on his night. Crib making was definitely the better alternative.
“I only have casual relationships so I don’t risk hurting anyone.” He said the first thing that came to mind.
“Not that I’m suggesting we do this, at all, to the contrary, but what you just said, is that true?”
“It is. I’m very clear from the beginning.”
“But...why? You could still have a family, Wood. You’d make such a great husband, great father...” The compassion in her tone caught his gut.
“You can tell all that from knowing me eleven days?”
She didn’t answer. Just looked at him. Waiting.
She’d given him her honesty.
“I’m a fixer. I see someone in need, and I feel a need to do what I can to make it better. And apparently I’m content to settle for gratitude instead of the deeper, lasting emotion that makes for a successful relationship.”
No, that wasn’t quite right. Maybe partly, but... “I need to help where I can,” he said. “To tend to those in my sphere. To whatever feels like family connection to me. It’s just who I am. But at the same time, I’m tired of settling for nothing more than that. Maybe I’m tired of running scared at the thought of losing any more. I lost my dad, then my mom, then Peter...”
Speaking the truth lifted a weight from him, even as it denied him what he wanted most at the moment. He looked at her. “As far as I’m concerned, every single thing about you is attractive. Inside and out. I want you in a way I don’t remember ever wanting a woman. And that makes me even more certain that I won’t sleep with you. You need me right now. But in the future, when you have a healthy baby and are ready to move on... I need to be able to still be there for you. And for Alan. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I can’t take a chance on being your second best.”
“What if...in the future...we still feel this way?”
She was making this more difficult than he’d ever imagined. He wanted her so badly; maybe because she was pregnant with his child, but he really didn’t think so. At least not foremost. The woman had been twisting him in knots from her first phone call.
He shook his head.
He knew himself.
“If we keep that door open, we both know where it will lead. Sooner rather than later.”
Her eyes darkened again. He’d bet his had, too, if they really did such things.
They were so close, their gazes locked.
The kiss needed to happen. Right then. Right there. He knew it. She had to know it, too. She licked her lips. He hid a wince of pain. He was stronger than anything his penis could do to him.
She was the one who looked away first. But it had been close.
“So...you make your list, and I’ll make mine?” she asked, reaching for the door handle.
The expectations. Now translated to mean boundaries. Fences and cages and walls that would protect those they loved.
He nodded. Vigorously.
Chapter Thirteen
Cassie was completely consumed with a case that next week. A privately held nonprofit she’d brought as a client to the firm was facing employee issues, and if she didn’t find a way to get the situation handled immediately, it could have catastrophic consequences.
Through all of the internal and external investigations, Cassie believed that the organization’s executive director had done nothing wrong, but that a disgruntled worker was making untrue accusations. Her job was to give the best legal advice to protect her client, not to determine guilt, but for her own sake, she had to know.
She worked long days and into the night, researching case law and reading social media accounts on both sides, building reasonable doubt while she looked for something more substantial. She did her best to keep her brain occupied during every waking hour.
Giving herself time to take a break from her personal life.
The irony in going from no personal life to having so much of one she needed a break was not lost on her.
And every night, after she’d readied for bed, she allowed herself to read whatever texts Wood had sent that day. He’d sent photos of his final three crib design choices. For two nights they discussed various pros and cons. She liked the idea of having a crib that could convert to a toddler bed, so that took out one choice. He mentioned making a dresser, crib and changing table, and when she sent back excited emojis, that took away the second of the three choices, leaving only one.
Then he’d moved on to finishes and colors. By the end of the week, she’d ordered a complete nursery, including glider rocker and bookcase in a maple wood with natural finishing. She’d decided to add color to the nursery in wall decor, sheets, rocker cushions and changing pads.
She insisted on paying for all supplies, but stopped short of offering him money for labor when he started to sound put out and said they’d work it out later.
Each night he asked how she was feeling. She said fine. And he told her to have a good night. She wished him the same. Neither of them mentioned the lists they were supposed to be composing. Or anything else about either of their lives.
Maybe they didn’t need the lists. Maybe they’d found a plan that worked for them: texting at night so they both knew the other had made it through another day. And sharing nothing about their individual personal lives. When she had news to tell him about Alan, she’d do so. And once the baby was born, then there’d be a lot to say about him. But for the now, all was good.
Except that she missed him like crazy. Which made her crazy. She’d known the man a couple of weeks and was mourning his absence like he’d been her best friend for life. Wishing she could talk over her current client’s situation with him, because she so badly wanted to hear his take on the situation, brought her up short.
She trusted Wood that much. Valued his opinion that much.
And at night, she’d go to sleep and end up naked with him, finally seeing his manliness intimately, to touch him, only to wake up alone in bed with a longing she couldn’t assuage.
She had no idea how any of that changed anything in her life. But she knew it did.
* * *
Wood told Elaina about the nursery project. He’d be spending most of his waking nonworking hours in his workshop.
He’d also told her that Cassie had indicated that he’d have some sort of relationship with the boy. She’d touched his face, sympa
thy shining from her eyes. But “Be careful” was all she’d said.
He wished he could assure her his eyes were wide-open. That he wasn’t going to get hurt, which she seemed certain was already a done deal.
Just because Elaina hadn’t been able to love him like that didn’t mean Cassie couldn’t.
The thought was beneath him. Feeling sorry for himself. Finding unfair fault with Elaina. And building castles where Cassie was concerned. Nonproductive.
Shame washed through him, and he pushed a little too hard on his planer. Lost a board that had cost him over twenty bucks. Not a good way to start a Saturday.
Picking up another piece, he steadied himself, focused on the task at hand. Worked hard for an hour, took a water break, and his mind wandered to a place it had spent much time, unsuccessfully, that week. His list.
So far, there was nothing on it. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to put on it. In a perfect world, he and Cassie would be in love and she’d be having his son.
He didn’t even know for sure if that kind of love even existed outside movies and novels.
He was no more in love with his ex-wife than she’d ever been in love with him. And who knew if Peter and Elaina’s love would have withstood the stresses and challenges of time? He liked to think it would have, but...
The world wasn’t ever going to be perfect. Not his. Not anyone’s.
He wanted to raise his son. Wanted to be involved in every aspect of that brand-new life.
Too late for conception.
And going forward?
He couldn’t figure out how the future would look. But was absolutely certain that as long as he had the chance, he had to be as much a figure in Alan’s life as Cassie would allow.
Alan’s mother. What did it say about him that his favorite part of life right now was climbing into bed at night and texting the woman who was carrying his child?
Couldn’t be good.
He’d been back to work for a couple of hours or so when Retro stood up from her bed and ran outside with her tail wagging. Glancing up, Wood saw Elaina walking toward the shed, a basket in her hand.
Standing straight, he left the crib frame he’d been working on and moved toward the doorway, watching her.
“What’s up?” he asked. Maybe she’d done the closets first. Was on her way out, stopping to tell him her changed schedule. It was one of their understandings...they generally let the other know their plans.
“I brought lunch,” she said, and he stepped back as she entered the shed. “I figured you’d get involved and forget to eat.”
He’d been known to skip lunch on occasion when he was deep into a project. But not because he forgot. The choice to ignore the meal in favor of another half hour of doing something he loved was a conscious one.
With the basket hanging over one arm, she reached with the other to pull a TV tray out of the rack of four of them. Grabbing it from her, he set it up.
She’d made tuna melt sandwiches for him. And brought herself out a plastic bowl filled with greens with a generous scoop of tuna on top.
She asked to see the nursery plans, studied them as she ate, asking questions.
“I’d add shelves on the changing table instead of these two drawers,” she said, pointing to an area on the rough picture he’d drawn. “You can get those square storage baskets to fit, and it would be much easier to pull out one of those to reach for something in a pinch than to have to move and yank out a drawer. You know, if you have one hand on the baby on top...”
He studied the drawing. Agreed with her completely.
“And maybe instead of this two-inch solid piece around the top of the table, put in the same spindle design you’re using on the crib. That way you’d still have that little bit of barrier, but the baby could turn his head and see out.
“And I’d do the same for the cradle. I know a lot of them have solid sides, but would you want to lie in such a small, closed-in space and only be able to see the ceiling?”
He wouldn’t. And liked her suggestions.
“I was thinking maybe we should set up a meeting between you and Cassie,” he said. “Just so you know each other...”
He was a guy who needed his family together, apparently—and Elaina was family.
She chewed. Grabbed a couple of grapes, popped them into her mouth.
“I’d rather not.” She glanced up at him, and he recognized the sympathy in her eyes. Hated it there. “When Alan’s born, I’ll be right there any time I’m invited. The best aunt ever.”
He heard the “but” she didn’t say before she continued.
“I know you feel a need to be involved right now, with the baby’s health issues, and I support any decisions you make, but...” There it was. He waited.
“I don’t want to watch you get hurt.”
“And you’re so certain I would be?” He heard the anger in his tone, even if she didn’t. “You really think there’s no way a woman like Cassie would go for me, don’t you?”
The accusation was too clear to miss. The shock on her face was clear, too, as she stood. “Why would you say such a thing?” Her mouth hung open.
He didn’t take the words back, even knowing they hadn’t been fair, that he’d hurt her. Maybe if Elaina hadn’t always been constantly trying to push him to make more of himself, he wouldn’t feel as though he wasn’t good enough.
She turned to go, leaving the mess of their not-quite-finished lunch sitting on the tray. At the door, she half turned, looking him right in the eye.
“For the record, if anything, I think she’s not good enough for you, Wood, and I’ve never even met her. I don’t know that you’ll find a woman that I think is deserving of you. I also know that you give everything you are to family who needs you, to your own detriment, to the point of not having a life of your own, including marrying me. It breaks my heart to think of you doing it again because a stranger chose to use a donation Peter talked you into giving. You’ve given up enough of your life for your brother.”
With tears in her eyes, she left the barn.
And he let her go.
* * *
Cassie spent Saturday evening in a private conference room, eating a catered dinner with the executive director of the charitable organization Safe!
By the time she got home that night, she still didn’t know what course the board of Safe! would take, but she knew that she’d done all she could to guide them toward a successful outcome. And that she’d follow through for them, no matter which of her options they chose.
And she hadn’t heard from Wood all day. While she never answered until night, he generally sent a text or two that would be waiting for her when she climbed into bed. Or lounged on the couch before bed.
A text or two that she knew were there...carried with her...and looked forward to reading.
She took her time getting out of her suit and into the nightshirt she slept in. Brushing her teeth. And her hair, too, though she didn’t normally do that before bed. She went to get a fresh bottle of water. Checked the doors again, though she knew they were locked. Stopped in her office to glance at the mail that had come. Mail she’d already gone through.
Eventually, she made it back to her room. Climbed under the covers, sitting up with pillows propped behind her. And picked up the phone she’d left plugged in on her nightstand. And felt her spirits drop as she saw that no text messages had come through.
She’d given him extra time. Why hadn’t he reached out?
Had something happened? How would she know if it had? It wasn’t like they were on each other’s in-case-of-emergency call lists.
Maybe they should be. If something happened to her and they needed Wood’s blood to save Alan’s life, she had to set up a family trust...name him legally as...something. Her legal brain clicked in, and she tried to bring back everything she’d ev
er heard or read about estate law. It hadn’t been her area of interest.
She knew a couple of people she could call, though. But ten o’clock on a Saturday night wasn’t the time.
Should she text Wood just to make sure he was okay?
Shaking her head, she grabbed the remote. Clicked to turn on an old sitcom. And then switched to another old show, one that centered around cops and lawyers. Something she could get lost in...
The jolt came out of nowhere. Not sharp, but definitely strong. And completely unexpected. She’d been feeling little movements, kind of bubble-like, on and off for most of the week. She hadn’t been certain they were the baby. Had hoped.
But this... She waited, heart pounding, to see what would happen next. If the baby had just kicked, would he kick again?
Or was something wrong?
Did anemia lead to other things? Was her baby in distress? If the pregnancy were progressing normally, she might not have wondered, but...
That worrying week had taken a toll. Could something be wrong?
Picking up her phone, she searched the internet. Landed on a reputable hospital website. Spent forty-five minutes reading everything she could find about signs of miscarriage, fetal blood disorder symptoms and a side piece about preventing diaper rash. There’d been no other movement in her stomach, no cramping or even a hint of needing to use the restroom, though once she thought about it, she did kind of have to pee.
So she did. Checked for spotting. There was none. And climbed back into bed. Picked up her phone and typed, “What does it feel like when your baby kicks?”
Twenty minutes of reading later, she was smiling. Wishing the sensation would come again. With a hand on her growing belly, she said, “You just do whatever you have to do to make yourself comfortable, Mama’s baby Alan. Move around as much as you like. Four months and one week can seem like a long time. Oh...and if you wouldn’t mind...could you please kick a lot? Just so I know you’re okay in there?”
Her Motherhood Wish Page 11
