Jack would probably show her his typical distracted indifference. And Sheila…Well, Sheila would go ballistic, especially when she learned who the father was, something Katie realized now she couldn’t hide.
Her mother had called a half-dozen times since their conversation two days earlier but Katie chose not to answer when she saw the number flashing on the caller ID.
She just didn’t think she was up to a confrontation with her mother yet, but she knew she couldn’t put it off much longer.
She pushed away her dread to deal with later. For now she would focus on her overwhelming joy that all appeared to be well with her baby.
She squeezed Laura’s hand. “Thank you for everything.”
“You can thank me by letting me hold a bouncing, healthy baby in a few months.”
“It’s a deal.” Katie smiled.
Laura kissed her cheek, then shrugged into her heavy parka. Before she could pick up her bulky pack, Peter beat her to it.
“Let me carry this out to your vehicle for you.”
“I never turn down a handsome man.” Laura winked at Katie, kissed her again and followed Peter outside.
She would love to have Laura deliver her baby, she thought as she watched them go out into the pale twilight. Not only was she a dear friend but Katie trusted her medical skills implicitly. If Laura didn’t love the rural Wyoming lifestyle where she had raised her own family, she could have been practicing medicine anywhere in the world.
Could she manage it somehow? Katie wondered. Maybe Laura would consent to fly out to Portland for the birth or Katie could always return to Sweetwater and have the baby here. Laura’s clinic wasn’t set up for childbirth but perhaps they could go to the small hospital in Jackson Hole.
The idea appealed deeply and she vowed to talk it over with Peter. Whether he wanted to marry her or not, he had a say in all of this, she admitted to herself.
A few moments later Peter returned to the great room, his expression remote, as it had been since her mother’s phone call. “If you’re ready to go back to Portland, we can fly out together after the Taylors return in the morning.”
She sighed, hating this distance between them. “I suppose I have to. If I don’t return soon, Trent will come and yank me back.”
His mouth tightened as if he disliked the mention of her brother. “I hope you’re not planning to jump right back into the deep end. Despite Dr. Harp’s ringing endorsement that everything should be fine, I think you need to take it easy now.”
She raised an eyebrow at his dictatorial tone. “I have a job to do, a career I enjoy that I’m good at.”
“I’m sure you do. But I know damn well how stressful R & D can be. The long hours at a computer, the constant pressure to come up with something new. I’m just suggesting you think about whether that’s really the best environment for a pregnant woman. You have a baby to think about now.”
In the last few days her abdomen had seemed to swell rapidly, as if the baby decided there was no reason to hide her presence anymore. Katie loved her new roundness, loved seeing the little mound and imagining the person inside.
“Believe me,” she retorted, “I’m very well aware of that fact, Peter. But I’m not one of your employees that you can order around. You’re not my boss or my husband or my father.”
Before her mother’s phone call, he probably would have come back with something about how he wanted to be her husband; she only had to say the word.
Instead his mouth tightened. “But I am the father of that child you’re carrying. Whether you like it or not, that gives me certain responsibilities to make sure you don’t wear yourself out during the pregnancy with unnecessary stress.”
This concern was for his child, not for her. The knowledge made her heart ache, made her tone more combative than she intended. “Are you planning to monitor my time card?” she snapped.
His tone was just as cold. “Will I have to?”
Oh, she wanted to weep at the distance between them. This autocratic stranger was so different from the teasing, smiling man she had come to know in the days since her accident—the man she had come to love. She wanted him back!
“I know my limits. I don’t intend to exceed them,” she said quietly. “Contrary to the way I seem to act around you, I’m not completely lacking in common sense.”
“I never said anything about your common sense or lack thereof. But you have a taxing, stressful position. I know how things go on the corporate level. You think you’re only going to work a little late to tie up some loose ends and before you know it, the clock tolls midnight and you have to be back for a 6:00 a.m. conference call with Tokyo.”
She knew that only too well. She had grown up watching it firsthand with her father. Before she had been sent to boarding school, she remembered sometimes going weeks without seeing Jack. He invariably left before she rose, no matter how early she set her alarm, and he returned home long after she went to bed.
She had to hope Peter would be different, for her baby’s sake.
“It doesn’t have to be that way. You said the other day you have good people who work for you. So do I. I fully intend to cede some of my duties to them during the pregnancy and talk to Trent about cutting both my hours and my responsibilities after the baby arrives.”
“I’m sure he’ll be just thrilled about that.” Peter’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
“He’ll deal with it.”
“You seem remarkably certain of that.”
“He’s my brother and he loves me.”
His skeptical look made her ache again for all that lay between them. “He does,” she said sharply. “Believe it or not, even we Crosbys are capable of loving each other.”
“I never said you weren’t.”
You didn’t have to say it, she started to say, but before she could open her mouth to utter her hot words, the strangest sensation tickled inside her—a flutter in her womb, like the tiny touch of butterfly wings whispering together.
She thought maybe she imagined it but then she felt it again, stronger this time, unmistakable.
The baby!
She froze and one hand flew to her mouth while the other covered the swell of her abdomen.
This was real!
She had a little life growing inside her, someone whose arms or legs—or both!—were flailing around right this minute. An incredible rush of emotion poured through her—shock and excitement and joy—and she couldn’t hold back her tears.
“What is it?” Peter’s voice was urgent, his brown eyes shadowed with concern. “Are you cramping again? Do I need to call Dr. Harp back?”
“No.” The sound was halfway between a laugh and a sob. “I just felt the baby move.”
He stared at her, thunderstruck. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Absolutely.” Those tiny butterfly wings quivered once more and Katie laughed out loud. “There she goes again.”
He still looked shell-shocked. “Isn’t it too early for that?”
“The books I’ve read say the fetus starts moving independently at around seven weeks but the first time the mother can detect it is usually between thirteen and eighteen weeks. I’m on the early side of that spread, I suppose. Maybe she’s going to be a soccer player.”
“Do you think—” He paused and cleared gruffness from his throat. “Could I feel it?”
“I don’t know. It’s very light, just a flicker really. But you could try,” she offered.
She felt suddenly shy when he crossed the room to her but she hitched up her shirt. He placed one of those warm, strong hands on her abdomen and Katie was overwhelmed at the intimacy of standing here with him, sharing the sweetness of the moment.
“Is he moving?” Peter asked.
“A little. Not as much as before. She must be tired out. Can you feel anything.”
He shook his head but seemed reluctant to remove his hand. Katie didn’t mind. Even though he was only touching her abdomen, she felt embraced by him, almost che
rished. Her heart brimmed over with love for him and for their child, and she tried fiercely to burn this moment into her memory.
“We spent one night together and now there’s a little life in there.” His voice was low, gruff and tugged at her heart. “It’s amazing.”
“I know. It’s the most incredible thing that’s ever happened to me.”
He curled his hand over her abdomen as if he couldn’t bear to let go and she leaned into his solid strength. She didn’t want to move, didn’t want to shatter this fragile, wonderful peace.
“I know this baby wasn’t something you wanted,” she said after a moment.
“It was unexpected, certainly, but not unwanted.”
If she hadn’t already been deeply in love with him at that moment, the sincerity of his words would have done the trick.
Peter seemed as reluctant as she to sever this fragile connection between them. With his hand still warm on her skin, he moved to the plump sofa and pulled her onto his lap.
This wasn’t bad, either, she decided. Not bad at all. She added another memory to her precious store.
“When I was about seven my father came home with a puppy,” he said once they were settled. “Keep in mind, I had never said a word about getting one and had never even acknowledged to myself that I might like a pet until Dad showed up with the thing. From the moment I saw the little mutt, I adored him. Roscoe slept in my room until I went to college.”
His words touched her, at the same time she grieved for a little boy she sensed had never felt completely secure in his parents’ love.
“We’re having a baby, not a puppy,” she pointed out. “I wouldn’t expect her to lick your hand or chew your slippers, at least not at first.”
His laugh jostled her a little against his hard chest. “I know they’re vastly different things but the principle’s the same. I never knew how much I wanted a puppy until Dad brought Roscoe home.”
He met her gaze with a tenderness in his eyes that stunned her. “And I never realized how much I wanted a child until I found out you were pregnant.”
The tears burning behind her eyelids spilled out at his words. She sniffled, more in love with him than she ever believed possible.
At her tears, raw panic flickered across his features and his arms tightened around her. “Don’t cry, Katie. Whatever I said, I’m sorry.”
“It’s the hormones,” she lied, then decided she was tired of untruths between them. “Well, some of it’s the hormones,” she admitted. “Mostly I’m just so happy you want this baby as much as I do.”
He was quiet for a long moment, an odd expression on his face. “Katie, I have to tell you something.”
His voice sounded tight, almost nervous, and she suddenly didn’t want to hear what he had to say. Whatever it was, it had to be something grim with that solemn look in his eyes.
“Later,” she said. “Would you mind just kissing me for now?”
She didn’t give him a chance to say no before she pressed her mouth to his.
He froze for one shocked second, his eyes wide, then he closed them and kissed her back with all the passion and heat that had been simmering between them for a week.
She didn’t have the courage to tell him of her feelings but she could show him this way. Her arms held him close, her fingers entwining in his hair, as she poured into the kiss all the love she ached to give him.
They had kissed several times since he arrived at Sweetwater but every touch had been tarnished by the anger and tension simmering between them. For the first time since the night of the bachelor auction, she kissed him without reserve.
He groaned her name and pulled her closer, so close she could feel his erection jut against her hip. “You feel so good I could stay right here forever and do this.”
“Okay,” she murmured against his mouth. “But I think in three or four days we’d probably get hungry.”
“By then the Taylors will be back. We can swallow mouthfuls of Margie’s delicious stew between kisses.”
Her laugh turned into a moan as he trailed kisses down her throat. All she could think about were Laura’s parting words, that she didn’t need to restrict normal activities.
Did that mean they could they make love? she wondered, blood pulsing thickly through her veins. She wanted to, desperately. Her body cried out for his touch, for the heat and wonder they had found together for only that one night.
His mouth touched the high slope of one aching, sensitive breast through the open neck of her shirt and she gasped.
She couldn’t bear it. She wanted him to touch her completely, to bare her skin and draw a taut, achy nipple into his mouth.
“I should stop,” he murmured.
“Why?”
“Because if I keep torturing myself like this, I won’t be able to stop.”
“I don’t want you to.”
He groaned and his mouth found hers again in a kiss that scorched her clear to her toes.
Somewhere in the middle of another of those long, drugging kisses, she was vaguely aware of a noise that didn’t belong, the squeak of the front door opening.
Before she could force her numbed brain cells to work so she could figure out how to extricate herself from his arms and see why the door would be opening, she heard a terrible sound.
A truly awful sound.
The most hideous sound she could imagine under the circumstances.
“What the hell is going on here?”
Her mother’s voice rang through the room like metal grating on metal.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Katie scrambled to her feet, terribly conscious of her tousled, just-been-kissed disarray. She was vaguely aware of Peter rising, as well, smoothing down the shirt her hands must have rearranged.
Oh, this was horrible!
“M-mother. This is a surprise. What are you doing here?”
Sheila’s collagen-implanted lips curled into a snarl. “What is he doing here? This is the friend staying in this hellhole with you? Peter Logan?” Her voice rose on the last word until she was nearly screeching.
“Yes.”
“Quite the cozy little love nest you have here. No wonder you wouldn’t tell me the name of your mystery man.”
Katie blew out a breath. “I knew you wouldn’t be pleased.”
Sheila’s face started turning so purple her makeup took on a garish hue. “Not pleased? Not pleased? Have you completely lost your mind? I knew you were up to something—you’ve always been a terrible liar—so I decided to stop here on my way back to Portland. In my wildest dreams I never would have expected this!”
Sheila flung each word at her like wickedly sharp rocks, and Katie couldn’t help flinching.
“What were you thinking? He’s a Logan.” She said the word like the most vulgar of obscenities. “Or at least one of the adopted ones.”
Peter’s features had been without expression since Sheila barged into the house, but at this, his jaw clenched and his eyes darkened with anger. He stepped forward but Katie put a hand on his arm, begging him silently to let her handle it.
If he entered the fray, Sheila would annihilate him. She fought dirty and had no compunction about kicking below the belt.
“Mother, I can explain,” Katie said lamely.
“I certainly hope so.” Sheila stalked in and plopped onto the chair opposite the couch where they stood.
Katie didn’t know where to start. She didn’t want to tell her mother anything, not about the night of the gala and not about the days since. Somehow telling her mother would taint what had been the most wonderful time of her life.
Before she could catch hold of any of her wildly scrambling thoughts in order to offer some kind of coherent defense, Sheila’s gaze landed on the stack of books on the coffee table between them.
“What is this?” She grabbed one and thrust it at Katie. “Your Baby’s First Nine Months?”
She cringed. Oh, this was a nightmare. Worse than a nightmare. Katie closed her e
yes, wishing she could retreat into her safe, invisible comfort zone. It was too late for that. She had walked out of that comfort zone forever the moment she let Carrie Summers talk her into a makeover.
“You want to tell me why you’re reading pregnancy books?”
She opened her eyes and met her mother’s gaze squarely. She refused to feel ashamed about her baby and she would do anything necessary to protect and defend this child. “The usual reason.”
“You’re pregnant?”
“Yes. About fourteen weeks along.”
She had never seen her mother speechless but Sheila gaped for a full thirty seconds. All too soon, she found her voice. “He’s the father? You got knocked up by Peter Logan?”
“This is not some version of Rosemary’s Baby, Mother. He’s not the devil incarnate.” She wasn’t sure where the sarcasm came from but it was too late to stow it back down.
“He might as well be!”
Sheila looked her up and down with more than her usual distaste and Katie burned under the perusal. “What were you thinking, Katherine? Are you truly that desperate for a man in your bed that you’ll even sleep with a Logan?”
Though she wanted to stay calm and in control, Katie swayed a little from the attack. She brushed against Peter’s chest and for the first time realized he was standing at her back.
At Sheila’s words, though, he stepped forward, his eyes blazing. “That’s enough,” he snapped.
“I wondered if you were going to say anything or just stand there, you bastard. We both know damn well a man like you could never be attracted to Katie. What were you after, then? Crosby company secrets? Did she tell you any? I hope they were worth all you must have had to go through to get them.”
Katie wanted to die. She wanted to curl up into a ball of humiliation and expire on the spot. The really sad thing was, she could have written the script for this conversation with her mother almost word for word, right down to Sheila’s disbelief that someone like Peter Logan would ever be genuinely interested in her.
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