Dawson looked surprised she was mentioning the session.
“How does he feel about country music?” Since Dawson kept watch over Luke’s downloads, she hoped he’d know.
“Kelly had it on all the time. He always liked it. Why?”
“He didn’t want to listen to it, and I wondered if that just started or if he’s always liked other music better.”
“Come to think of it, the last time he showed me what was on his iPod, I didn’t notice any country. He must have deleted it. Any idea why?”
“No. It could be something as simple as it was playing in the car the night of the accident.”
“I never thought of that,” Dawson said soberly.
Suddenly they heard footsteps running into the hallway, but they didn’t jump apart as they might have once done. They were standing close, arm to arm, and they stayed that way.
Luke didn’t seem to notice. Grinning, he said, “I won, Dad. Aunt Anna said we could take along the rest of the pie.”
Dawson laughed. “Now that’s a prize we’ll both enjoy.” He crossed to Luke and dropped his arm around his shoulders. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
As Mikala watched, Luke didn’t pull away. Maybe Dawson and Luke were really both healing. Maybe her dream wasn’t so far-fetched after all.
* * *
When Dawson arrived at Mikala’s studio on Friday afternoon, she was sliding percussion instruments into a box.
She answered the door, her heart tripping fast, her expectations for the afternoon too high. They climbed even higher when she saw him. Dressed in a hunter-green sweater and black jeans, she couldn’t imagine him looking any sexier.
“Come on in,” she said. “I’ll just straighten up the music room and grab my coat.”
Dawson looked relaxed as he entered her office. “I thought we could drive into Flagstaff and eat at Charly’s at the Weatherford. That hotel has as much Western charm as Miners Bluff.”
She laughed. She knew the restaurant at the Weatherford Hotel and appreciated its historic appeal. “I’d like that,” she said.
In spite of looking forward to the afternoon, she couldn’t help thinking about the two pregnancy tests she’d bought but hadn’t used yet. Her period was late and she was never late. She knew she was burying her head in the sand, but neither she nor Dawson were ready for any life-changing news. What difference would a few more days make?
She went into the music room and lowered a set of maracas into the instrument box. Stowing it on a shelf in the closet, she shut the door.
When she turned around, Dawson was right there. Something about his expression made her feel expectant.
“I have something for you,” he said.
When she gazed into his eyes, she saw his affection for her and his desire. But was there love?
“It’s not my birthday,” she joked.
He handed her a small white box. “Just consider this a belated Valentine’s Day present.”
When she opened the box with trembling fingers, she found a gold chain holding a charm keeper with a rose at the bezel. A tiny gold piano dangled from the keeper. “Oh, Dawson. This is beautiful! I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll wear it.” He was grinning at her, and she felt so much joy she could hardly contain it. Her fingers shook as she plucked the necklace from the box and held it up. The sunlight shining through the windows glinted off the gold.
Sliding his long fingers under the chain, Dawson took it from her. “Let me put it on for you.”
When she turned around, there was silence for a few moments. She could feel Dawson behind her, remembering how she’d known his body in intimate ways. Was he remembering, too?
He brushed her hair aside, his fingertips grazing the nape of her neck, and she shivered at his touch. He leaned toward her, his jaw near her temple.
“I think about you in my arms all the time,” he said in a husky voice.
“I do, too,” she admitted.
This time his fingers lingered on her neck, then stroked through her hair. He was making the quivering inside her become a longing-filled ache. She wanted him again, and from the way he was touching her, he wanted her.
His lips were smooth and hot and firm when he pushed aside the neck of her sweater and kissed her shoulder. She felt as if she were going to collapse in a swoon at his feet.
“Dawson, wait,” she said breathlessly, turning toward him.
“You don’t want me to put the necklace on you?” His brow was arched but there was a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
She suddenly couldn’t seem to find words, but she cleared her throat and did the best she could. “I don’t want us to be disturbed when you do.”
It only took her a matter of seconds to go to her door, turn around the sign that said In Session and lock the dead bolt. She was back before him, feeling more wanton than she’d ever felt in her life. Is this what love did? Is this what desire did? For her, at the moment, the two were one and she couldn’t figure it out.
This time he took the chain and his arms seemed to surround her as he hung it around her neck. Then he kissed her cheek.
“Turn around.”
When she did, he wasn’t looking at the charm. He was looking at her in a way that made her want to cry. Had any man ever looked at her like that before? She’d never felt this much love or this overwhelming need to be part of him.
He slid his fingers under the charm, touching the point between her breasts. Desire began rippling through her, weakening her knees.
“You brought music back into my life, Mikala, in more ways than one.”
His kiss was hypnotically erotic. It told her what he wanted and the immediacy of his need. She held him tight, kissed him back, pressed into him, ready to fulfill his fantasies as long as they were about her.
They kissed until they both needed air. When they broke apart, took in deep breaths, they gazed into each other’s eyes and then kissed again. Mikala’s hands were in Dawson’s hair, ruffling through it, touching the back of his neck, caressing his ear.
He pulled away and said, “You make me want too much.”
Want too much physically? Or emotionally?
He didn’t give her a chance to think further about it. His hands shaped her breasts into his palms and a maelstrom whirled inside of Mikala. She felt defenseless against his passion. Yet she knew she had power because when she slipped her hand under his sweater, his groan of pleasure told her it was so. His mouth was possessive, his hands greedy, every touch glazed with passion.
He was careful when he lifted off her sweater, so he didn’t damage the necklace. He fingered the charm, let it sink between her breasts, then he toyed with it, creating sensations that were making her crazy.
“Dawson,” she breathed almost on a whimper.
“I like the way it looks there,” he said roughly with a bit of amusement.
She slid his sweater up, letting her fingers sift through his chest hair. His green eyes darkened, then he roughly lifted his sweater over his shoulders, over his head and tossed it to the floor. He removed a packet from his pocket and she knew he’d come prepared.
But he hadn’t been prepared before. What were the chances she was pregnant?
Then as he removed his jeans and briefs, she lost the ability to think. She must have been standing still just watching him because he smiled at her.
Then his hands went to the waistband of her slacks. “Want some help?”
“Only yours,” she said honestly.
He stopped for a moment as if there were more meaning to her words than he wanted to hear. But then he helped her undress until she was as naked as he was.
Leading her to the sofa, he lay back and then pulled her on top of him. She felt self-conscious at first, much too exposed. What did he wan
t her to do? But Dawson didn’t seem to care what she did as long as she touched him, as long as she kissed him, as long as she held him. They were driving each other crazy with the foreplay but she realized this was what he wanted, because when they did join, their union would be explosive.
After he prepared himself, he let her take control. This was a new experience for her, a freeing experience. As she straddled him, she realized maybe Dawson had guessed it would be that way. There was a knowing in his eyes. He wanted to erase any bad experience she’d ever had. He wanted to show her that being with a man meant something.
As she slowly let him fill her, her world spun. She belonged to Dawson and she wanted him to belong to her.
Wildly pleasurable sensations wiped away the thought of consequences or the future. Only the union of their bodies mattered, only the rocking motion that brought them both pleasure. She found bliss a few seconds before he did, then he was reaching for it, too, reaching for her, holding on to her as if he’d never let her go. Her climax was the most erotic, body-shivering moment she’d ever known.
Dawson seemed unable to catch his breath, too, and she was so happy about that. They fit together so perfectly. But after long moments of lying there together, Mikala needed an answer.
“Dawson?” she asked.
“Hmm?”
“What are you thinking?”
She felt him tense and then he relaxed again. “I’m thinking this is better than lunch at Charly’s.”
She could ask more questions. She could spoil the mood. Or she could enjoy the afternoon for what it was—her time with Dawson.
However, the intensity of her feelings at this moment told her tomorrow morning, she would be using that pregnancy test. She had to know one way or the other and so did Dawson.
Maybe then they could figure out where they went from here.
Chapter Eleven
Mikala waited until her aunt had left the house for choir practice early Saturday morning. Not that Anna would ever barge in or anything, but Mikala needed privacy to do the pregnancy test, to be able to face the facts of whatever the results were.
She’d had a wonderful afternoon with Dawson yesterday. They’d gone to lunch after all and had laughed, told stories, brushed elbows and thighs under the table as if they held a wonderful secret. She did. She loved him. But Dawson was still just on the edge of a new life, trying to balance his future and Luke’s. He’d asked her to come to dinner with them tonight. But with her period late now, she had to do this. She had to find out for sure if she was carrying Dawson’s baby.
Her hand shook as she took the box into her bathroom and opened it. This test would be crystal clear. There would be no mistaking the results. Still she’d bought two tests just to make sure.
Fifteen minutes later Mikala had finished using the second test. She stared down at the two sticks on the vanity and didn’t know which emotion was going to win her heart—joy that she was pregnant with Dawson’s baby…or panic about what Dawson would have to say.
She had two counseling sessions this morning and an in-home session this afternoon. And then she’d have to get ready for dinner with Dawson and Luke.
Just how was she going to tell Dawson that he was going to be a dad…again?
* * *
Mikala was nervous as she drove to Dawson’s house. She might as well admit it. She just didn’t want her anxiety to ruin dinner. She’d have to hide it. After Luke went to bed, then she and Dawson could talk.
But what would they talk about? A future? Or no future? Her hopes were all mixed up with her fears. The past was all mixed up with the present.
On Dawson’s porch she rang the bell and waited. When he opened the door, he wasn’t smiling. The first thing he said was, “Luke’s upstairs. I just have a minute or two to tell you this.”
“What?”
“He had a nightmare last night, a bad one, the first one in a couple of months. He said it was different. He said he couldn’t remember what was in it. When he woke up, everything was gray and he didn’t know what was real and what he’d dreamed. But in the midst of it, he was a mess. He was crying. He was calling for Kelly. It was awful. All I could do was hold him.”
“His memories are trying to get through, Dawson. I suggest we set up an earlier session for him than next Thursday. Maybe with me he can relax enough to let some of it out.”
“Why can’t he be relaxed with me?” Dawson wondered aloud.
“Because you’re his father, and there might be something he doesn’t want to tell you. In the meantime,” she went on, “we have to show him we know how to have a good time and he can, too. It isn’t one or the other, Dawson. He has to meld what happened into his real life.”
The lines around Dawson’s eyes eased and a slip of a smile turned up his lips. “You always bring perspective to this.”
Now if she only had perspective on what she had to tell him. She could do it now…before they started the evening.
But Luke came barreling down the stairs. “Hi, Mikala. Come see my room. It looks great. Dad and I got a spread last night. It’s got horses and trees and elk.”
Taking a deep breath, she said enthusiastically, “I can’t wait to see it.” Then she followed Luke up the steps, down the hall and into his room, knowing change was brewing for all of them.
“I got some red pillows for my bed, too, to go with it, and Dad found the horse print and the one of the yellow Mustang for my wall.”
“Looking very cool. What’s this on your graphite wall?” He’d written: Jake, one o’clock, Sunday.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” he said. “Jake’s coming here tomorrow. He’s learning to play the guitar. I think I might like to do that, too.”
She waited for more.
“We’re just going to hang out, maybe play basketball.”
Mikala had considered having a session with Luke tomorrow. But now she rethought the idea. If Luke had made a friend, that interaction was just as important. “Sounds like fun. I bet you’ll have a great time.”
Luke did seem to be settling in, did seem to be communicating more with his dad. This could still take many, many months, but he was on the right track. Their next session might reveal something or it might reveal nothing. Just maybe, the locked box of Luke’s memories was coming open and she would be there to help unravel them.
She told herself to relax through dinner. Dawson had made shrimp scampi and rice and there was a salad. They’d kidded each other about culinary skills as Luke explained he’d made the salad. But Mikala discovered the smell of the shrimp was almost turning her green. She pushed them around her plate, ate the rice and nibbled on the salad. Since Dawson had made brownies for dessert, she managed half of one of those.
“Watching your weight?” he kidded her, and she wanted to blurt out everything right then and there. But Luke was devouring a second brownie and she knew her news had to wait for a private moment.
She just responded lightly, “I’m always watching my weight,” and realized putting food in her mouth was going to take on a whole new meaning with a little life growing inside of her. She put her hand to her stomach and thought about everything that was going to happen. She was so excited!
But would Dawson feel the same way?
The three of them cleaned up the kitchen together and then Dawson surprised her again by producing his guitar. A fire was going strong in the fireplace. Luke pointed out the piano that fit perfectly along a side wall. Then they settled on the comfortable furniture Dawson and Luke had chosen and Dawson started with “Blowin’ in the Wind.” Luke didn’t know the song, but as Mikala and Dawson sang, he soon joined in. Just for the heck of it, Dawson did a rendition of “Jingle Bells” that made Luke laugh. After another round of brownies for Luke and Dawson, Luke said good-night and went up to his room.
Mi
kala’s heart began to pound and her palms felt a little sweaty. Maybe her hormones were already in an uproar. Or maybe she was just scared.
Dawson moved closer to her on the couch and put his arm around her.
To postpone the inevitable, she said, “Since Luke is having a friend over tomorrow, how about Monday after school for his next session?”
Dawson thought about it. “Monday’s good.” Then he brought her even closer for a kiss.
She breathed in his aftershave and drank in everything that was Dawson. She loved kissing him. She loved touching him. She loved him.
Because she did, she settled her hand on his roughly woven tan sweater.
He regarded her with amusement. “Afraid Luke will come down and find us?”
She inhaled deeply, trying to calm every nerve jumping around inside of her. “That’s one concern,” she admitted.
“You have others?” The amusement faded and he became serious.
“I do. I have something to tell you.”
He looked worried now. “About Luke?”
“No, not about Luke. About me. About us. I’m pregnant, Dawson.”
She’d seen many emotions cross Dawson’s face in the past months, but she’d never seen the shock that was there now. He looked as if she’d just told him the world was going to end.
When Dawson didn’t say anything, Mikala couldn’t be silent, too. “Say something.”
He sat forward on the sofa, raked his hand through his hair, studied her for a moment, then gazed into the fire. “How do you feel about this?”
His tone was cautious. She wanted to throw her arms around him, tell him she loved him, and that she was ecstatic about the pregnancy. But he wasn’t saying the words she wanted to hear. He wasn’t saying, Together we’ll make this work or I love you. He was pulling away and becoming remote.
She felt her walls going up again, too. Holding on to her pride suddenly became more important than telling him how she honestly felt.
To her dismay, her voice shook a little as she said, “Your baby is a special gift. And I want to be a mom, Dawson.”
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