The Christmas Baby Bump

by Lynne Marshall

  With a dark, hooded stare, Phil studied her. “Your turn,” he said. He brushed his warm hands over her breasts, cupping and lifting them as he dropped feathery kisses on her shoulder, and expertly unlatched her bra. “You’re beautiful. So beautiful,” he said in a hushed, reverent tone, kissing each breast.

  Their mouths came together again, his lips full and smooth, as they dropped onto the bed. He unzipped and removed her jeans and lacy thong that matched her bra. “Cute,” he said, eyebrows lifted in approval as he tossed it across the room. It landed on a lampshade.

  Phil’s natural banter and easygoing manner helped her relax when she briefly felt out of her depth. What the hell was she doing, having sex with a coworker, with a man known for being a playboy? But she looked into Phil’s eyes, saw unadulterated desire, and lost her train of thought. Again.

  Today she needed to be desired. It was a truth she could face, a gift he offered, and she had every intention of accepting and savoring it.

  They rolled together into the center of his huge bed, finally feeling every part of each other. The exquisite feel of his muscles and skin fanned the flames licking in her belly. They kissed and tasted, touched and kneaded each other until she was frantic. “Please,” she said, taking him in her hand and placing him between her thighs. She touched her tongue to his, and nibbled his kiss-swollen lower lip. “I need you,” she said.

  From the flashing depths of his eyes there was no doubt he needed her, too.

  “Let me get some protection,” he said with a bedroom-husky voice.

  “Not necessary. My tubes are tied,” she said, pulling him closer.

  He cocked his head as if momentarily surprised, but it didn’t stop Phil from seizing the moment and making her needful wishes his complete command.

  CHAPTER SIX

  STEPHANIE crawled out of her postsex haze and glanced at the surfing god beside her. She couldn’t believe what she’d just done—she’d slept with a man after only knowing him for a couple of weeks. Was she out of her mind?

  She’d let him tug her down the hall to his bedroom and have his way with her. Now nestled in the crook of his arm, she blinked. Come to think of it, she’d pretty much had her way with him, too. Maybe that was the freedom that having her tubes tied had finally given her. She’d never forget this night, no matter what happened next, and that realization felt great.

  He definitely knew how to satisfy a woman, yet he was anything but mechanical or practiced. What they’d shared had been nothing short of fan-bleeping-tastic. When he’d filled her, she’d let herself go with basic instincts and savored each and every sensation coiling tighter and tighter until release had torpedoed through her. Now feeling like a huge mound of jelly, she admitted how much she’d needed this. How glad she was he’d taken her there.

  They snuggled warmly in the center of his king-sized bed, lights dimmed, breathing roughly, completely satisfied. Now that he’d had her, he still hadn’t lost interest. No. He folded her into his chest—his muscular chest brushed with light brown swirls and curls—and stroked her hair. She loved the soap-and-sex smell of his skin and marveled at how smooth it was and how substantial he felt. She smiled against his chest, her hand on his upper thigh. Phil was definitely substantial.

  His fingers lightly played with her matted hair, sending chills over her shoulders. She’d thought she was tingled out, but his touch settled that debate. When she looked up at him, a grin was on his flushed face. He’d had a workout, too.

  It had been so long since she’d been with anyone, wasn’t this the point where the first-time lovers were supposed to feel awkward and clumsy? She felt anything but as she shared a completely contented smile with him. There wasn’t a hint of regret in his clear-as-the-sky eyes.

  “I’ve been fascinated with your hair since the moment I met you,” he said, honey-voiced, giving her shivers all over again.

  Truth was she’d been fascinated with his hair, too. She’d loved digging her fingers into it and kissing him hard and rough as they’d rolled around his bed. She liked the thickness, and how there was so much to tug and hold on to. She’d even tasted it when he’d covered her with his compact, muscular body and brought her to orgasm.

  “Same here,” she said.

  He laughed. “You like my hair?”

  She nodded, digging her fingers into his scalp, further mussing the dark blond cloud of hair. He grinned before sudden concern changed his expression. His crescent-shaped eyes grew wide.

  “Damn. Robbie! I’d better go check on him.”

  He jumped out of bed and pulled on his jeans but not before she enjoyed the view of his sinewy back and handsome behind. He had an obvious tan line left over from summer from surfer-styled trunks.

  While he was gone, she stared at the high, beamed ceiling and thought how romantic his French country-style bedroom was. The man had had impeccable taste when it had come to choosing this house. There had to be more to him than met the thoroughly satisfied eye.

  He’d also made her feel like a complete woman again. Wow. She stretched and arched in the comfy bed, senses still heightened, enjoying the finely woven sheets against her back. She could get used to this kind of escape. And wasn’t that what this two-month job was? An escape from all things?

  Phil returned, his smile wide, sexy. “He’s still asleep.” He stripped and jumped back under the covers with her. “Now, where did we leave off?” He nuzzled her neck and ran a cool hand across her breast. Even if she tried, she couldn’t stop her response.

  The deliciously warm current he’d started with his fingertips rolled right to her center and, as quickly as that, she was ready for him again.

  Robbie’s nap ended much too soon, if you asked Phil. He’d have liked to spend the rest of the night making sexy memories with Stephanie on the best Thanksgiving of his life. But Robbie was awake and protesting by banging on his bedroom door.

  “Pill! Whar you?”

  “Hang on, Robbie, I’ll be right there.”

  “Don’t let him see me in here,” Stephanie whispered.

  “Okay.” He took one last glance at her creamy skin and, yep, her nipples were the same color as her freckles, except, thanks to his attentions, everything about her was much rosier now. He’d have to make a mental snapshot because he had a kid banging on the door.

  He hopped into his jeans and strode toward the door, then opened it just enough to squeeze through. “What’s up, little dude?”

  “I’m hungwee.”

  “Again?” Phil ruffled Robbie’s already messy hair and led him to the kitchen. He smiled at how the boy had put his glasses on lopsided, and how his round belly pushed against the sleeper. The kid was a total wreck, but still managed to look cute.

  Did I just use cute in a sentence?

  He cut up a piece of pumpkin pie, poured him a glass of milk, and sat him at the kid-size plastic table Roma had left. When he was sure Robbie was preoccupied enough with eating, he slipped back down the hall to check on Stephanie’s progress.

  She’d put her underwear back on, and the sight of her long torso and shapely legs gave him another pang of pure desire. He couldn’t wait to unload Robbie back on Roma and his father. If all went well, they’d arrive home tomorrow, and his bachelor life would finally be back to normal.

  “Here you go,” he said, handing her the clothes he’d found across the room.

  “Thanks.”

  There was still fire in those dilated pupils, and it took a lot of restraint to keep from grabbing her and throwing her on the bed again. If he was lucky, he’d have six more weeks of great sex with Stephanie—a gift he hadn’t expected when they’d hired the locum.

  He liked her pumpkin-colored top just fine, but it looked so much better discarded on the floor. And would he ever take those great legs for granted? Not in six weeks, he wouldn’t.

  Usually, once he’d been with a woman, he was fine with sending her home, preferring his alone time. But he wasn’t anywhere near ready to say goodnight to Ste
phanie. And he still had Robbie to deal with.

  “Can you stick around for another glass of wine or some coffee?”

  “You know, I’ve scheduled that colposcopy for early tomorrow morning,” she said, clasping the belt over her hips.

  He was fascinated watching her, as if he’d never seen a woman dress before. “Then on Saturday night I want to take you to dinner.”

  She finished zipping her ankle boots, rushed him, and brushed his lips with a moist kiss. “I’d like that.”

  The simple gesture set off another distracting wave of desire. O-kay. They had a great thing going, with no strings attached, and as far as he could tell, they were on the same page.

  Stephanie willed all the crazy thoughts about the huge mistake she’d made out of her head. By the time her sex-with-Phil high had subsided this morning, she’d realized her blunder. She’d given herself a pep talk on the drive in to the clinic on Friday. Last night had been a one-time thing. She’d gotten carried away, that’s all. Phil probably felt obligated to take her out to dinner. For her part, she’d blame it on that evil sweet-tasting red wine she’d imbibed and the sexy wonders of Phil. Heck, she’d already accepted his invitation for dinner on the weekend and, considering his allure, it would be extra-hard to tell him there wouldn’t be a repeat bedroom performance.

  Old habits were hard to break, and there was comfort in safety. Why couldn’t she figure out what to do?

  Celeste Conroy lay on the examination table, prepared for the special procedure. As she’d done countless times before, Stephanie used the colposcope to examine the area of cervix in question and to take a small biopsy.

  It only took five minutes.

  “You may feel some cramping today. Take it easy. No lifting or straining for a couple of days, and no sex for a week.”

  The mention of sex sent her mind back to last night with Phil, making her ears burn. She shook her head, hoping to stop the X-rated visions on the verge of materializing in her mind as she made her last few notations on the patient chart.

  Celeste, as always, had a slew of questions, and Stephanie was grateful for the distraction.

  “I’ll need a week to get the results,” Stephanie answered, “and I’ll call the minute I get them.”

  The busy morning postponed her curiosity, but by lunchtime, when she still hadn’t seen Phil, she asked Gaby.

  “He’s at the airport, picking up his parents.”

  He’d made it clear he wanted to take their acquaintance to a whole new level once his parents took Robbie off his hands. The thought made her insides scramble up with anxiety yet excited her at the same time. Soon an unsettled feeling had her finding the nearest mirror and taking a good long look.

  Make up your mind, Bennett. Either go for a fling or keep your distance. Don’t leave it up to Phil to decide.

  Hadn’t she given herself permission to let go last night? And hadn’t the results been beyond any fantasy she could have dreamed up? After a long inhalation, a tiny smile curved her lips. She had six more weeks in Santa Barbara before she’d be back in her world—why not totally escape from all things Stephanie? And, besides, she’d had her tubes tied—there was nothing to worry about.

  The thought of pursuing a carefree romance with Phil launched a wave of flittering wings in her stomach. Did she have the guts to carry it out?

  Well, if this didn’t take the prize. If Phil hadn’t been so worried about his dad he’d be frustrated by having to hold on to Robbie for a couple more days. The layover at the airport had made Carl sick and Roma had taken him directly to the hospital once they’d landed. He’d picked up a nasty bug and was already showing signs of dehydration. The big iron man Phil had grown up admiring looked far too human in the hospital bed, and it sent a weary wave of dread down his spine.

  “I’ll keep Robbie for the weekend or until you feel ready to take over,” Phil said to Roma.

  She sat at her husband’s bedside, her dark hair heavily streaked with silver, holding his hand. “If you could bring Robbie by later today, I’d really appreciate it. I miss him so much.”

  “Go, Roma. You don’t have to sit here watching me sleep,” Carl said. “Go and see Robbie.”

  She gave Phil a questioning gaze. How different Roma was from his mother, who’d left when things got tough. His mother’s action had jaded Phil and had planted a lifelong mistrust of women. They couldn’t be counted on to stick around, so why get serious? Roma broke the mold, but she was the exception.

  “Come with me,” he said. “Robbie can’t wait to see you. I’ll drop you back here on my way home.”

  It dawned on Phil that his fabulous weekend plans, with the hottest lady he’d met in forever, would get put on hold. Again.

  Once he sorted things out with Roma and Robbie, he’d give Stephanie a call to give her a heads-up. Either she’d be willing to let Robbie tag along for dinner or they’d take a rain check, but there was no way he’d leave Robbie with a babysitter. The kid would be disappointed enough knowing his mom was back in town yet he still couldn’t go home.

  How did you explain such a thing to a kid? He’d step back and let Roma do the chore, see how a pro handled it, and maybe learn something.

  Later, after he’d heard the latest doctor’s report on his father and Robbie was preoccupied with building blocks and making his version of the world’s tallest building, or so he’d announced with extra esses and saliva, Phil thought about Stephanie. He thought about how much he’d enjoyed spending Thanksgiving with her, and especially how great it had been to make love to her. And he thought how he’d like to do it again. Soon. But he had to look after the squirt.

  So why was there a smile on his face? Because the kid really was a great source of entertainment.

  After several attempts, Robbie had made it to ten blocks high, but he’d jumped up and down, knocking the top block off again. Phil stifled a laugh when he glimpsed the expression of frustration cross the boy’s face. Phil had to hand it to him, the kid didn’t quit. He picked up the same block and balanced it on top of the others, then went hunting for several more.

  Phil took the opportunity to call Stephanie. Hearing her soft voice on the phone, it occurred to him how much he’d missed seeing her today, and just how disappointed he was about canceling their plans.

  “Looks like I’ll be keeping the kid brother for the weekend,” he said on a resigned sigh. Though she’d made real progress being around Robbie on Thanksgiving, he wanted her all to himself the first time he took her out to dinner.

  Phil felt compelled to give her the whole story about his father’s illness, flight home, and current status. Once he’d filled her in they’d settled into an easy conversation, and as Robbie was still erecting the west-coast version of the Empire State building, he kept talking.

  Hell, he’d had sex with the woman. They knew each other intimately now. And though completely out of character, he wanted to take the opportunity to get to know her even better.

  “Do you have a minute to talk?” he asked. How busy could a person be in a hotel room?

  “Sure,” she said.

  The problem was that, if he wanted to learn more about her, he’d have to talk about himself. Should he take the risk?

  He glanced at Robbie, who’d now moved on to scribbling with crayons in his newest coloring book from Hawaii, and decided what the heck.

  “It’s been bugging me. I mean, how does a doctor with an aversion to kids wind up being an obstetrician?”

  To her credit, she blurted out a laugh instead of taking offense. Though maybe she sounded a little nervous? “I guess it does seem odd, and please don’t get me wrong, I love delivering babies. It’s just…well, pregnancy and delivery is one thing, and child rearing is another.”

  “See, now, that’s where I get tripped up,” Phil said, trying hard to understand her elusive explanation. “It’s been my experience that people usually go into a specialty profession because it’s their passion. For instance, I chose medicine because
of my mother.”

  Maybe it was the fact that his dad was sick and in a hospital, looking all too frail. Maybe it was because, even after professing to hate his mother all these years, he still missed her, but she’d been on his mind today.

  “Your mother wanted you to become a pulmonologist?”

  “Actually, she never knew, because I stopped talking to her.”

  Phil wasn’t ready to tell Stephanie the whole story, that he’d been in Australia at a surfing championship when his father had been diagnosed with lymphoma the first time—and that his mother’s leaving turned his life upside down. It had made him quit the surfing circuit at twenty to care for his dad and, eventually, head back to school.

  “I’m so sorry to hear that, Phil.”

  He’d confused her. He sensed honest compassion in Stephanie’s voice and it felt like a forgiving breath; made him want to be honest with her. Maybe he did owe her an explanation.

  “My dad had lymphoma, and when he first got diagnosed, my mother walked out on us. She couldn’t deal with his disease. Evidently she didn’t give a damn about me either because I never got to say goodbye.”

  “Oh, God, how awful.”

  Phil hadn’t meant to turn their conversation in this maudlin direction, he’d just wanted to keep her on the phone a little longer, but here he was stripping down barriers and letting the new girl on the block know about the secret of his mother. He could count back ten girlfriends and know for sure they’d never had a clue about his family or whether either of his parents was alive or dead. So why had he opened up to Stephanie?

  “Yeah, I haven’t talked to her since. I don’t have a clue if she knows I’m a doctor or not.”