One Step Away: Once Upon a Proposal

by Sherryl Woods

  One thing did puzzle him, though. She had never once expressed any interest in his personal life. Maybe she knew all she needed to know from the tabloids and the gossips in town, but he doubted that was it. If that was where she was getting her information, he doubted they would be in this bed together now.

  He wondered how she was going to feel when she discovered he had custody of a seven-year-old daughter. He hoped it would delight her. They hadn’t discussed her culinary skills, but he had a hunch Beth could bake those cookies Chelsea pouted about not having whenever Delores Jensen wasn’t around to make them for her.

  Well, he would know soon enough how his daughter’s presence would alter their relationship. Delores was going to bring Chelsea up to Vermont next weekend. Chelsea’s rebelliousness was showing signs of fading just as soon as the finishing touches were put on the first rooms in the new house. Beth had promised they would be ready by midweek, which would give him time to move his own things over from the inn. Perhaps they’d even have a night or two there alone. He knew that no matter how things changed, he would never be able to walk through the rooms of his new home without envisioning Beth there, as well.

  Of course, why waste time anticipating the future when the present was so intriguing? He slid a hand under the covers and skimmed it lightly over Beth’s warm curves. The touch brought a faint smile to her lips. He pressed a kiss against her bare shoulder and earned a soft moan. A caress of her breast brought her eyes open and quickly had them smoldering with reawakened passion.

  Or so he thought, until she yawned and stretched, the movement as lazy and satisfied as a cat’s.

  “So, you find my attention boring, do you?” he taunted, intensifying his touch until she gasped.

  “Never,” she whispered, her voice breathless.

  “What was that?” he asked again.

  Her body arched toward him as he continued to explore. “Definitely...not...boring.”

  He grinned. “That’s better.”

  She reached for him then and the provocative game immediately reversed, until they were both slick with perspiration, their breath coming in gasps, their bodies demanding a fulfillment that finally came with shattering intensity.

  When their heartbeats had slowed and their skin had cooled, Beth stretched out alongside him, their bodies touching from shoulder to toe. Somehow that innocent, trusting contact of two satiated bodies seemed more intimate, more profound than the love-making itself. Ken discovered he was relishing the aftermath of sex as much as the act itself. It was a sensation he’d long forgotten. It had been lost sometime after he’d discovered how deliberately and coolly Pam had used her body to get what she wanted. And though he’d seldom been able to resist, he’d hated himself for the loveless unions.

  Whatever happened between him and Beth over the coming weeks and months, he would be grateful to her for this moment, for reminding him of the simple joy of genuine togetherness between a man and a woman who wanted nothing more complicated from each other than to give and receive this incredible, most basic of all pleasures.

  * * *

  “You know, it’s a strange thing, my man,” Claude Dobbins said to Ken first thing Monday morning. “I called you at this quiet, isolated country inn two or three times Saturday night. Clear up till midnight, in fact. I coulda sworn you told me they rolled up the sidewalks there at nine o’clock.”

  Ken guessed where this conversation was heading. He attempted a diversion. “Maybe I should be telling the coach about his key offensive lineman staying up past curfew the night before a game.”

  “Don’t you go trying to change the subject,” Dobbins said, not taking the bait. “I called you again right before I left for the stadium Sunday morning. No answer. No sign of you downstairs in the restaurant. In fact, do you know what the incredibly helpful dude at the front desk told me?”

  Ken could see they were going to play this conversation all the way to the end, no matter what he did. He decided he might as well relax and let Dobbins have his fun.

  “I can’t imagine,” he said, praying that his friend hadn’t shared this speculation with Delores. His goose would be cooked then.

  “That man said you’d left on Saturday morning and he hadn’t seen you since. He said you had a nice little stack of messages that hadn’t been picked up, either.”

  “Good work, Sherlock,” Ken said dryly.

  Dobbins ignored the sarcasm. “Now, I know for a fact you didn’t come down to see your kid, because I stopped by to see Delores and give her a cake Harriet had baked. She said she wasn’t expecting you at all this week. She said she’d be moving Chelsea up to Vermont next weekend and you were busy getting things ready.”

  “All true. What’s your point?”

  “Well, I got to thinking. What would keep a man who doesn’t know beans about decorating hanging around an empty house? And you know what I decided?”

  “I can’t imagine.”

  “I decided it seemed real likely that, despite all of your denials, you do have a thing for that real estate person.”

  “I thought I explained to you this real estate person is just working for me.”

  “After hours?”

  “What makes you so sure I was with Beth? Maybe I was out with Chet Mathias.”

  “No way, man. He’s out of the country. I called his house, too, and talked to the housekeeper.”

  “You are one nosy son of a...”

  Claude laughed. “Come on, now. Tell the truth.”

  “About what?”

  “Were you engaging in a little hanky-panky with the hired help?”

  “Dobbins, my man, I don’t believe that’s any of your business.”

  “Me and Harriet weren’t none of your business, either. Didn’t stop you from messin’ with my life.”

  “You have a very short memory. That was Delores at work, not me. I just stood on the sidelines and watched.”

  “You still haven’t answered my question.”

  “That’s right,” Ken agreed cheerfully. “Did you have some reason for calling? Other than jerking my chain, that is?”

  Dobbins’s laughter boomed over the line. “My man, I am not finished with this subject. Not by a long shot. However, I will delay that particular discussion for another time. I called because I thought you ought to know that Chelsea is giving Delores fits. Threw an outright tantrum while I was there on Saturday for a few minutes. Over nothing, as near as I could tell. Didn’t want no part of me. Wouldn’t touch the cake. Finally stormed off to her room.”

  Ken’s spirits sank. Chelsea adored Claude. For her to display a fit of temper when he’d come to visit was totally out of character. What was happening to his lovely, good-natured daughter? “Delores hasn’t said anything to me and I’ve called there to talk to Chelsea every day.”

  “She wouldn’t. She knows you’ve got a lot on your mind now. And she thinks this thing with Chelsea will pass once the two of you are settled in Vermont. I’m thinking maybe you ought to bite the bullet and give Pam a call and see if you can’t get her to call her daughter.”

  The very idea of speaking to his ex-wife made Ken’s stomach churn. Unfortunately, however, he couldn’t argue with his friend’s logic, especially since he had a hunch it was advice straight from Harriet, who was a school counselor and very wise in the ways of troublesome kids.

  “I assume Harriet agrees with you.”

  “More like me agreeing with her,” Dobbins admitted. “If ever there was a kid missing her mama, that child of yours is it. If you don’t want to call Pam, Delores would probably do it, though the way she’s feeling about her daughter these days, it doesn’t seem to me like that’s such a good idea.”

  “It’s not. Besides, it’s my responsibility. Thanks, buddy. I owe you for letting me know about this. I’ll call Chelsea after schoo
l today myself and I’ll see that Pam does, too.”

  “You coming home soon? We got a place of honor for you on the sidelines anytime.”

  “I don’t think I’m much suited for watching the action from the sidelines. Besides, this is home now.”

  Even after he had hung up, Ken couldn’t get the words he’d spoken out of his head. This was home now. And in large measure, that was due to Beth’s presence. He could only pray that Chelsea would quickly come to feel the same way.

  He glanced at his watch. It was barely 7:00 a.m. in California, no doubt a good time to catch Pam. She’d probably be sound asleep and irritable at being awakened. However, it also meant she’d be too muddled to give him much aggravation.

  The phone rang half a dozen times before being tumbled off the hook and sent clattering to the floor. He held the receiver away from his ear, prepared for the impending burst of anger.

  “What the hell?” she muttered grumpily when she finally had phone in hand. “Who is this?”

  “Ken.”

  Silence greeted him, then a calmer, but no more friendly, “What do you want?”

  “When was the last time you talked to Chelsea?”

  “Last week. The week before. I can’t remember exactly. It’s the middle of the night, for God’s sake. Ask me again at noon.”

  “Dammit, Pam. You’re her mother. Even if you don’t give a damn about her, she misses you. Would it be too much trouble for you to take five minutes to speak to her every couple of days while she’s adjusting to all the changes we’re dragging her through?”

  “What about you? Last time I called, I heard you hadn’t been home for days.”

  He drew in a deep breath and prayed for patience. “Look, I’m sorry. Let’s not let this disintegrate into an exchange of accusations, okay? She’ll be up here with me by this weekend. I talk to her once or twice a day. It’s not me she’s missing. It’s you.”

  “Okay, okay. I get the message.”

  “You’ll call her this afternoon?”

  “I’m going out on an audition. I’m not sure when I’ll have time.”

  “Make time, dammit,” he retorted, then slammed down the phone before he got into a futile shouting match with her despite his best intentions.

  When his pulse rate had returned to normal, he sent a brief gaze heavenward and gave thanks that he was only a few days away from having Chelsea with him, only a few days away from getting a little stability back into both their lives.

  * * *

  On Wednesday afternoon, barely two weeks after they’d started work on the remodeling of the Grady place, thanks to whirlwind activity and persuasive charm, the master bedroom was at least livable, even if the rest of the house was still in disarray.

  Though Beth had seen Ken nightly all week long, he hadn’t stopped by to check on progress. He’d said the crew was better off left alone to get the job done, rather than training him in the process. She had a feeling, though, that he had suddenly wanted to put at least a little distance between them so they could both examine what was happening with some semblance of rationality.

  Personally, though, she didn’t want to think. For the first time in a very long time, she was content simply to feel. She could hardly wait for him to see the finished room, could hardly wait, in fact, to join him in the extravagant king-size bed he’d insisted he had to have.

  “It’s ready,” she had told him on Wednesday night as they lay entwined amid the rumpled sheets and quilts on her own bed. “Can you come by in the morning?”

  “Make it afternoon and I’ll be there,” he had suggested. “In fact, why don’t you give the crew the afternoon off and we’ll celebrate.”

  Her pulse had skittered wildly at the provocative glint in his eyes, even though it had been only moments since they had made love with so much passion and abandon that her body still ached from it.

  With his eyes hooded and his gaze locked with hers, he’d said huskily, “In the meantime...”

  As she thought back, a smile tugged at her lips. In the meantime, there had definitely been plenty to occupy their time.

  Now, though, as she waited for Ken to arrive, she paced nervously through the debris still littering the downstairs. What if he hated the carpet? Or the wallpaper? Or the antique oak furniture? Oh, sure, he’d chosen it with her, but there was a vast difference between a small sample of something and a finished room. She could envision the end results with no difficulty, but what if he hadn’t been able to and was disappointed?

  Filled with doubts and anticipation, she took the chilled bottle of champagne from the refrigerator, picked up the two glasses she’d brought from home and carried them upstairs. She was still there, fiddling unnecessarily with the hang of the drapes, when she heard his car pull into the driveway. With her breath caught in her throat, she waited where she was.

  “Beth?”

  His shout echoed through the mostly empty house.

  “Up here.”

  She heard his footsteps on the uncarpeted stairs. Hampered by his injured knee, his progress wasn’t nearly as fast as she would have liked. Hands clasped tightly, she met him in the doorway.

  His arms came around her at once, gathering her close. His clothes and his skin were cold against her, but she could feel the warmth radiating from deep inside and knew that within seconds they would both be on fire and the purpose of this visit would fade. Reluctantly, she stepped away.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” she said. “You at least have to look around first.”

  “Trust me. I’ll see the bed soon enough,” he said, reaching for her again.

  Beth couldn’t recall anyone ever being so hungry for her. His desire was exhilarating. And tempting. The battle to resist was a real struggle, but one she ultimately won.

  “Ken Hutchinson, I did not lure you over here just so you could test the bed.”

  A grin spread across his face. “Okay, I get it. First, I praise your work. Then I get to sample it.”

  “Something like that.”

  “Then let’s get this tour over with.”

  Beth pulled him into the room, then stood aside. With far more invested in his reaction than simple professional pride, she watched avidly as his expression changed from unexpectant to astonished and finally to delight.

  “You’re a miracle worker,” he enthused, hauling her into his arms and planting a kiss on her forehead.

  Beth’s pulse bucked with what had become a predictable stirring of excitement, then seemed to skid to a halt. Her gaze flew to his. He looked just as stunned as she felt. His eyes focused on her mouth, then lifted to meet her gaze. Then slowly, ever so slowly, his lips covered hers in a kiss that quickly left her pliant and fuzzy-headed.

  That incredible moment lasted for an eternity, then he was reaching for the hem of her sweater and tugging it up, sprinkling kisses across the bare flesh of her midriff. Beth was lost in the sweet, wild abandon of his touch when she heard the creak of the door downstairs. Her entire body froze.

  “Did you hear that?”

  “What?” he murmured distractedly.

  She pushed him away and straightened her sweater. “Somebody just came in downstairs.”

  “I didn’t hear anything.”

  “I did,” she insisted. “Maybe one of the crew came back for something.”

  He sighed. “You won’t be satisfied until we check this out, will you?”

  “Afraid not.”

  He cast a longing look at the champagne, then at the bed and finally at her. “Damn, but I was looking forward to trying out that bed.”

  She grinned at the plaintive note in his voice. “Me, too, but it will still be here when we come back upstairs.”

  “You could just climb into bed and wait for me,” he suggested hopefully. “I’d like to th
ink about finding you there, naked, anxious.”

  “Oh, no,” she said, forcing herself to ignore temptation in favor of common sense. “I don’t want to explain what I’m doing there, if whoever it is gets past you.”

  “It won’t happen, but come along if it’ll make you happy.”

  They started down the stairs together. As they neared the bottom, at a cautionary gesture from Ken, Beth hung back. The position gave her an excellent view of the foyer and the living room beyond. In fact, she was perfectly positioned when a towheaded child wearing a velvet-collared coat, black patent leather shoes and fur earmuffs came barreling through the archway from the living room and threw herself straight into Ken’s arms.

  Beth watched the smile break across his face, saw him gather the child close and pepper her face with kisses until she was giggling with delight. Beth’s heart thudded dully in her chest as she took in the scene with a deepening sense of dread and betrayal.

  Maybe she was wrong. Maybe this wasn’t Ken’s child, a child he had never once mentioned. Maybe, she thought, as the sinking sensation spread through her.

  But the gray eyes, the strong chin, the exuberant greeting said otherwise. So did the glow of parental pride and pleasure in Ken’s expression.

  If those things alone hadn’t convinced Beth of the relationship, the child’s first comment ended speculation.

  “Daddy!” she said, an expression of dismay on her little face as she surveyed the downstairs of the house. “Do we really have to live here? This place is a mess.”

  Daddy, Beth repeated to herself, more hurt by that single word than the childish disdain for the house she loved. What terrible twist of fate had allowed her to begin falling in love with yet another man who already had a child?

  Chapter 9

  Holding his daughter in his arms, Ken took one look at Beth’s pale, stricken face and wondered what on earth was wrong. He realized that Chelsea and Delores, who must be in the living room, couldn’t have turned up at a worse time, but Beth looked stunned. In fact, when she finally shifted her gaze to meet his, he could have sworn what he saw in her eyes was a terrible accusation of betrayal.