by Leanne Banks
Tate pulled her as close as her stomach would allow. She felt good in his arms, and he found himself wondering what it would be like to hold her after she had the baby, to feel her breasts pressed to his chest. His groin tightened and he found himself having to concentrate on the dance steps that were normally second nature to him.
When the baby kicked him several times just above the belt buckle, he laughed, relieving some of his building tension. “It looks like someone else wants to dance.”
Her cheeks colored a pretty pink. “I’ve decided the baby is going to be a ballet dancer or a football player, depending on whether it’s a girl or a boy.”
“One of the guys on the circuit and his wife found out way before she had the baby that they were having a boy. I think he called it a sono-something or other.” He frowned. “Hasn’t your doctor done one of those yet?”
“They’re called sonograms. And yes, I’ve had several,” she said, laughing. “But I told the doctor that I didn’t want to know the sex of my baby. Call me old-fashioned, but I like the idea of waiting to find out when the baby is born.”
He tightened his arms around her and kissed the tip of her cute little nose. “I like old-fashioned.”
As the band started another song, he noticed her rubbing the lower part of her back. “You’re getting tired, aren’t you?”
“A little.” She smiled. “Tiring easily is one of the hazards of an advanced pregnancy.”
He was glad that each couple had driven separately and they wouldn’t have to inconvenience anyone by asking them for a ride home. “Let’s go.”
“Where?” she asked, clearly confused. “Back to the table?”
“Nope. Home.”
“But—”
“No buts about it, darlin’.” He led her over to where her sisters and future brothers-in-law were seated, watching Jason and Becky play with their friends. “We’re going to head back to the house. Marilou’s tired and I don’t want her overdoing things.” Turning to Joe, Tate reached out and shook the man’s hand. “Thanks for inviting us. We really enjoyed the party.”
“We’ll do it again next year,” Joe said, grinning.
Tate knew better. But forcing a smile, he nodded. “We’ll look forward to it.”
Faith stood up to hug Marilou. “Going home is probably a good idea. You’ve had a busy day and I’m sure you’re ready to drop in your tracks.” Turning to hug him, Faith smiled. “Thank you for taking such good care of our little sister, Tate.”
Gazing down at the woman by his side, he smiled. “You don’t have to thank me. Taking care of Marilou is my pleasure.”
Thoroughly perplexed, Marilou lowered herself to the side of the bed and kicked off her slippers. How could she be pregnant and still feel such an intense level of desire? Were her hormones that out of sync?
But as Tate emerged from the bathroom, she knew there was a very simple explanation for the overwhelming tension flowing through her veins, and he was standing right in front of her wearing a pair of black boxer-briefs. She also realized that she’d feel this way even if she wasn’t pregnant.
She’d spent hours being held by the sexiest man she’d ever met, and if that wasn’t enough to send her libido into orbit, nothing would. Good heavens, any woman with a pulse would have been reduced to warm pudding after an evening of that.
“This is insane,” she muttered, lying back against the pillow. Hadn’t her ill-fated relationship with Harlan taught her anything?
She closed her eyes and tried to remind herself that she couldn’t trust her judgment where men were concerned. But something deep inside told her that Tate was different.
“Did you say something?” he asked as he slipped into bed.
“No. You must have imagined it,” she lied.
When he turned onto his side, she opened her eyes to find that he had propped himself up on one elbow and was staring down at her. “Marilou, there’s something I’ve been meaning to do all evening.”
The heat she saw in the depths of his dark brown eyes took her breath. “Wh-what?”
“I’ve been meaning to tell you how pretty you are.” Her heart skipped a beat as he tenderly touched her cheek with his index finger. “I was the envy of every unattached man in Mission Creek tonight.”
She laughed nervously. “Oh, I can’t believe that. I’m as big as a beached wha—”
Placing his finger to her lips, he nodded. “It’s the truth, darlin’. I caught several guys checking you out while we were dancing.” He brushed his lips across her forehead. “And don’t talk like that about yourself. Like I’ve told you before, you’re a beautiful, sexy woman, who just happens to be pregnant.”
Unable to find her voice, all Marilou could do was gaze up at him. He certainly knew what to say to make a woman feel better about herself.
“There’s something else I’ve been meaning to do all evening, too, darlin’,” he said, treating her to a smile that caused her to tingle in some of the most interesting places.
“What would that be?” she whispered.
“Kiss you,” he said, lowering his head.
At the first touch of his mouth to hers, Marilou’s eyes drifted shut and she wrapped her arms around his neck. As much she’d tried to deny it, she wanted to feel Tate’s lips on hers again, wanted to experience the heady rush of sensations she’d felt when he kissed her under the mistletoe.
Tate coaxed her to open for him, and when she did, he slipped his tongue between her parted lips to reacquaint himself with her. Marilou’s heart skipped several beats and her temperature soared as he teased her with strokes that imitated a more intimate union.
Shivers of delight slid up her spine when he rained tiny kisses from her chin, down the column of her throat to her collarbone. But when he cupped her breast in his large hand, she opened her eyes to find him staring down at her.
“Do you like that, Marilou?”
“Yes,” she whispered. How long had it been since she’d felt a man’s touch? Harlan had pulled away from her physically, as well as emotionally long before he ever packed up and moved out of her apartment.
“Do you want me to stop?” Tate asked.
“No.” Heaven help her, but that was the last thing she wanted.
His mouth returned to hers and as he kissed her with a passion that stole her breath, he unbuttoned the top of her flannel gown to slip his hand inside. The combination of his tongue mating with hers and the touch of his calloused palm covering her bare breast sent warm ribbons of desire from her head all the way to her toes.
Breaking the kiss, he gave her an encouraging smile as he removed his hand from her nightgown to lift the tail of the garment. “Raise your hips, darlin’.”
“Tate, I’m afraid my figure isn’t very inspiring right now.”
He smiled as he lowered the covers, then slowly raised her gown over her rounded belly. Instead of the look of disgust she’d seen on Harlan’s face when he’d noticed that her pregnancy was starting to show, Tate had a look of awe in his eyes.
“You’re gorgeous,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to her taut skin. The baby chose that moment to move, and smiling, Tate rested his cheek against the spot. “Don’t get all excited, little one. It’s just me. You know, the guy you kicked all evening while he danced with your mom.”
Tears flooded Marilou’s eyes as she listened to the tenderness in his voice. “You’re a remarkable man, Tate Carson.”
Shaking his head, he moved back up beside her to take her in his arms. “Not me. You.” He gave her a kiss that sent a wave of longing straight through her, then nibbling his way to her ear, he whispered, “Now, turn over on your side and face me. The weight of your womb can restrict circulation if you stay on your back too long.”
Distracted by his insight about the last trimester of a pregnancy, Marilou did as he directed. “How did you know about that?”
“While you were taking a nap yesterday afternoon, Faith asked if I’d had a chance to read anything
on pregnancy and birth.” He shrugged. “When I told her that I hadn’t had time, she gave me a couple of books she had read when she was pregnant with Becky and Jason. She even marked the pages she thought would be the most informative.”
Marilou felt heat color her cheeks. Leave it to her thoughtful sister to lend a helping hand. “I’m sorry you were put in that situation. All things considered, that must have been extremely embarrassing for you.”
“To tell the truth, what she told me, and the few pages I read before you woke up, were pretty amazing.” Tate tenderly ran his hand over her bare stomach. “It left me with a deeper appreciation of what you’ve gone through the past nine months.”
The feel of his warm palm on her taut skin and the sincerity she detected in his softly spoken words caused her heart to skip a beat and made her insides feel as if they’d turned to melted butter. As unlikely as it seemed, she believed that Tate meant every word he said. And equally incredible was the feeling that she wished he was the father of her baby.
Before she could fully comprehend what that might mean, Tate’s mouth captured hers in a kiss that seared her all the way to her soul. As he teased her with his tongue, he slowly moved his hand down the stretched skin of her abdomen, sending tiny currents of need skipping along every nerve in her body. When his hand dipped inside the waistband of her panties to gently caress her, Marilou gasped at the exquisite sensations radiating from his tender touch.
“Easy, darlin’. Does that feel good?”
She nodded, and if she could have found her voice, she would have told him that she wanted to touch him, too. But incapable of forming a single word, she simply placed her hands on his chest and did a little exploring of her own.
Tracing the thick pads of his perfect pectoral muscles, she circled each flat nipple with her fingertips, then leaned down to kiss each in turn. She smiled when a shudder ran through his big body and a groan rumbled up from deep in his chest.
“I’ll give you all night to stop that,” he said, sounding out of breath.
Smiling, she trailed her index finger down the shallow indention dividing his abdomen and the ridges of muscle covering his trim stomach. He was in excellent physical condition and she loved the way his warm masculine skin felt beneath her palms.
“Damn, darlin’, I think you’re going to kill me.” His hands still caressed her, but he’d scrunched his eyes shut.
“Do you want me to stop?”
Tate’s eyes flew open. “Hell, no! If you do, I’m pretty sure I’ll die right here on the spot.”
The smoldering heat in Marilou’s emerald gaze held him captive as she ran the tip of her talented little finger around the rim of his navel, then along the fine line of dark brown hair that led to the waistband of his underwear. The room suddenly felt a good ten degrees warmer than it had only moments before. But when she lightly traced the front seam of his briefs down to the opening, his pulse took off at a gallop and sweat popped out on his forehead and upper lip. He was harder than he’d ever been, and if she kept this up, he was pretty sure he’d be reduced to a cinder in nothing flat.
“Tate?”
“Wh-what…darlin’?” All of a sudden his vocal cords didn’t want to work.
“Would you mind taking these off?” she asked softly.
His heart slammed against his ribs like an out of control jackhammer. “I don’t want you to feel pressured. I’ll just go jump in a cold shower—”
She lightly brushed his mouth with hers, effectively stopping anything else he’d been about to say. “I want to.”
Tate stared at her a moment, searching to make sure he hadn’t misunderstood. But the look on her face convinced him that he hadn’t, and he quickly got out of bed, removed his underwear, then retrieved a small packet from one of his jeans pockets.
Rolling the condom into place, he got back into bed and gathered Marilou into his arms. He smiled at her confused expression. “It will make things a little easier…afterward.”
He watched understanding dawn in her expressive green eyes as he lowered his mouth to hers. Kissing her with every emotion he had filling his soul, but wasn’t quite ready to name, Tate let her know how much the moment meant to him.
As he explored the sweet taste of her, she slid her hands down his chest to his flanks, then beyond. At the first touch of her soft hands on his heated flesh, he felt as if his head just might come right off his shoulders. Breaking the kiss, he struggled to draw air into his starved lungs and fought to maintain what little restraint he had left. He knew beyond a shadow of doubt that in all of his twenty-eight years, he’d never been this turned on before.
Positive that he couldn’t take much more, Tate caught her hands in his and brought them up to his mouth to kiss each one of her fingertips. “We’re going to have to slow down just a little, or I’m going to finish the race before the starting gun goes off.”
“I like the way you feel, cowboy.” Her sexy little grin didn’t help his control one damned bit.
He closed his eyes and counted to ten, then twenty. When he finally felt a small amount of his sanity had returned, he remembered something from one of the books.
“Has your pregnancy been normal?”
She slowly nodded. “The doctor said I’m as healthy as a horse. Why?”
Relieved to hear that she’d had an easy time carrying the baby, Tate slowly slid his hand down her hip to the top of her thigh. “I know that making love the conventional way is out of the question because it might be uncomfortable for you.” He let his hand stray to the apex of her thighs. “But the book mentioned there are other ways of being intimate that are perfectly safe for you and the baby.”
She didn’t say a word, but her slight nod and the sweet smile curving her sensuous lips as her hands found him was all the answer he needed. Groaning, Tate took her into his arms to kiss her, showing her how much her trust meant to him, letting her taste the need that she’d created within him.
Fighting to maintain the slender hold he had on his control, Tate slowly slid his hand between them, then touched her as she touched him. The tension inside his body increased with each movement of her small hands, and Tate was determined to give her the same pleasure that she gave to him.
As he parted her to find the tiny nub of her desire, Marilou sighed. But when he gently began to stroke her, a soft moan of pleasure escaped her lips and she shivered against him.
Heat and light danced behind Tate’s closed eyes, and he struggled to prolong the feelings building within him, even as he raced to end them. Only when he felt Marilou tremble and whisper his name as she crested the wave of pleasure did he surrender his control and give into his shuddering climax.
Holding her close as they both drifted back to reality, Tate knew beyond a shadow of doubt that he’d never felt closer to a woman than he did to Marilou at that very moment. And from the trusting way she’d let him caress her body, he was certain she felt the same way about him.
Chapter 6
Marilou dabbed at her eyes with a linen handkerchief and leaned against Tate as they walked toward the door of the chapel at the Mission Creek Cemetery. The New Year’s Eve afternoon memorial service had celebrated her aunt’s life with fond memories shared by family and close friends. But it had been the special message her aunt had written just before her death that left everyone in tears. Aunt Beth had wished Marilou and her sisters a life filled with health, happiness and a love as pure and strong as the love she’d shared with their Uncle Lloyd.
“I always knew Aunt Beth cared for Uncle Lloyd, but I never realized how deeply,” Faith said when Marilou and Tate joined her, Gabriel, Ann Elise and Joe on the chapel steps.
“Uncle Lloyd was so authoritative, I used to think they were mismatched,” Ann Elise said, shaking her head. “But the more I think about it—”
“They…complemented each other,” Marilou said, her voice breaking. Tate’s arm tightened around her shoulders, and when she glanced up, the understanding in his dark brown
gaze touched her in ways she’d never imagined.
“We’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “There’s something we need to get from the back of my truck.”
As her sisters continued to talk about their memories of the aunt and uncle who had taken them in after their parents’ deaths, Marilou watched Tate and the other two men walk toward the parking area.
With broad shoulders, narrow hips and wide-brimmed Resistols pulled down tight against the chilly winter wind, it was easy to see that all three men were true Texans. But there seemed to be something about Tate that set him apart from Joe and Gabriel—something that made him special. At least to her.
She bit her lower lip. How was she ever going to survive without him in her life?
Over the course of the past week, they’d shared childhood memories, future plans and become closer than she’d ever imagined. Tate had even driven her to his ranch on the other side of Mission Creek to show her the home he’d grown up in, and where he intended to raise his own family one day. He’d told her of his plans for the Circle C and asked her opinion on several ideas he had for remodeling the interior of the house. And each night as he held her in his arms, making her feel more cherished than she’d ever felt before, she found herself wishing more and more that she would be the woman sharing it all with him.
Rubbing at the strained muscles in her lower back, she sighed heavily. In reality, she knew that a relationship with Tate was never meant to be. But that still didn’t keep her from wishing that things could be different.
“Where did Becky and Jason go?” Ann Elise asked, interrupting Marilou’s wistful thoughts.
“They left with Sue Ellen Monroe,” Faith answered. “They’re attending a New Year’s sleep-over that her children, Tiffany and Brock are having.”
When Faith stopped to give her an odd look, Marilou frowned. “What?”
“How long has your back been bothering you?”
Marilou laughed. “Eight and a half months. But who’s counting?”
