She’d brought his present along. But she wouldn’t mind privacy to give it to him. “Would you like to open yours here or do you want to save it for later?”
“Let’s save it. I can put a couple of logs on the fire, we can put Christmas carols on, and I can give Shadow his new chew toy, too.”
She laughed and it felt good. Her whole experience tonight with church and his family had been heart-catching. She saw how close this family was. Would her child be a part of this? How could she deny any child this type of togetherness?
“You’ve been quiet tonight,” Grady murmured close to her ear. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking your family doesn’t realize how special they are. When I was a little girl, I would have done anything, said anything, been anything to have this kind of family—parents who hug their kids, grandparents who don’t feel kids are a bother.” She abruptly stopped. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have let all of that spill out.”
“You can let whatever you want spill out. We’re friends now, aren’t we?”
Was that what they were? She couldn’t help but ask, “Like you and Cassidy are friends?”
“No,” he admitted. “There are sparks between us that I never had with Cassidy.”
As Francesca absorbed that, Patrick Fitzgerald stood and handed out the presents under the tree. She was surprised when she received gifts from Laurie, Jenna and Maureen. After she’d left Grady that night in the saddle shop, she’d found gifts for his parents, brothers and sister. For Patrick she’d bought a book about old saddles, for Maureen a cookbook of favorite Irish recipes. She’d picked up lotions and bath products for Jenna and Laurie. John, Liam and Mark seemed to be prime candidates for treats from the candy shop. She’d had the most fun buying books for the children according to their age ranges.
When she opened Laurie’s present, she discovered a delicate multicolored crocheted scarf. “It’s beautiful,” she told her.
“I make them in my spare time.”
Francesca draped the scarf around her neck. It was perfect with her off-white sweater. “Thank you so much.” Impulsively she gave Laurie a hug.
Grady’s sister looked pleased and hugged her back.
Jenna’s present was a small trinket box in the shape of a butterfly decorated with crystals. Francesca thanked her and gave her a hug, too.
Maureen stood by her side as Francesca unwrapped her gift. It was a mother’s book, where she could record everything in her life she wanted her child to know. When she stood to give Maureen a hug, she was a little more hesitant, but Maureen wasn’t.
Grady’s mom gathered her in her arms and squeezed her tight. “We want you and your baby to feel at home with us. Will you remember that?”
Tears came to Francesca’s eyes as she nodded. “Yes, I’ll remember that.”
The only one who had been standoffish all evening was Liam. Now, as everyone disposed of wrapping paper and ribbons, as Grady went to the kitchen to refill their glasses, Liam sank down next to Francesca on the love seat. “Thanks for the candy.”
“You’re welcome. I hope you like cashew brittle.”
“I didn’t get you anything.”
“Christmas isn’t about that.”
He gave her a quizzical look. “What do you mean? Everyone exchanged gifts.”
“At Christmas you should give gifts because you want to, not because you have to.”
He thought about that, then he asked, “Are you going to quit work after the baby’s born and let Grady take care of you?”
She didn’t know where Liam was coming from—if he was bitter because his wife had done that or if he was just trying to protect Grady. “I don’t intend to quit working.”
“How are you going to take care of the baby and be a doctor, too?”
“Women have families and careers these days,” she pointed out to him.
He grunted. “That might work in theory.”
“Grady asked me to move in with him. Did he tell you that?”
Liam’s eyes narrowed. “Are you going to?”
“I don’t know yet. My last relationship wasn’t good for me, so I’m not rushing into anything now.”
“Grady shouldn’t rush into anything, either,” Liam muttered.
“I know about Chicago,” she said, wanting him to realize she knew how Grady had been hurt.
“Then you see we all just want to protect him. If you run off with his baby, it would tear him apart.”
“I don’t intend to go anywhere, not for a while anyway.”
“What does that mean?” Liam asked suspiciously.
“It just means that I want my child to see more than Sagebrush. I want him to know there’s a great big world out there that he can explore if he wants to.”
“Mom said you were deeper than you looked.”
“Excuse me?”
“Now, don’t get all mad. That was a compliment. In my estimation, pretty women use their looks to get what they want. Sometimes that’s all they’ve got, good looks. But you, you’ve got more than that. That’s what Grady says, too.”
“What else does Grady say?” Maybe she could figure out what he felt from what he’d told his brother.
“He says you’re a challenge.”
“He makes me sound like that wild mustang he adopted,” she muttered.
Liam laughed. “I don’t know about that, but Grady never has liked ‘easy,’ so a challenge could be a good thing.”
The thing was, she had been easy the first night they’d met. For the first time in her life, she’d let her barriers down.
“Anyway,” Liam added, “I’m sorry I didn’t get you a present. So…how about if after the baby’s born, I teach you how to ride? Grady says you don’t know how.”
“Are you patient?” she joked.
“I can be,” he replied.
Whether Liam did take her riding or he didn’t, she appreciated his offer. “I’d like to learn how to ride. After the baby’s born, we’ll set it up.”
Liam nodded, stood, turned away and then swung back to her again. “I just want you to know I think you’re pretty brave taking on this family. That’s not something just anyone could do.” Then he went to the kitchen and picked up a fresh plate.
She wasn’t brave. She was just hungering for a family of her own. But she wouldn’t make the mistake of believing Grady could lead to that family if there was no trust between them. If all he was interested in was his child, how could she trust him?
After Grady lit a log in the fireplace at his ranch an hour later, he took Shadow out for a run. Francesca wandered around the living room, remembering when his house had felt like a home.
She set his present on the coffee table. The raffia ties and the green holly paper were masculine enough. She just hoped he liked it. Instead of worrying, she went to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of milk and a glass of apple cider for Grady.
Moments later, Shadow came bounding in, his master right behind him. Grady was still dressed from Christmas services in a blue cable-knit sweater with a gray turtleneck underneath, gray trousers and black boots.
He spotted the cider. “Thanks. You remembered.”
She thought it was best not to reply. To her dismay, she remembered everything about Grady, everything about their time together, every conversation they’d exchanged.
“Do you want your present first?” he asked with a grin.
She looked under the tree and didn’t see any wrapped packages.
“Oh, it’s too big for under the tree,” he explained, reading her thoughts. “It’s in the spare room.” Suddenly he crossed to her and took her hands. “Close your eyes.”
“Grady…”
“Close your eyes and trust me.”
Trust him—not to lead her into harm or danger or into something she couldn’t handle. But at some point she had to take this leap of faith, even if they were just going to parent together.
“My eyes are closed. I promise I won’t pe
ek.”
“And you’re a woman who keeps your promises.”
“As well as I can.”
“That’s the best any of us can do. Come on now, put your hand on my shoulder and follow me.”
It was the oddest sensation walking down the dimly lit hall. Grady’s sweater was soft, yet coarse under her hand. She could feel the straight strength of his back. If she bumped into him, their baby would touch his hip.
At the doorway to the room she didn’t bump into him, but she came very close.
He turned, however, and took both of her hands in his, both the free one and the one in the cast. “Just come straight ahead,” he ordered her. “There’s nothing to trip over.”
She could feel the floor beneath her feet and believed him. When he turned on the light, the shadows behind her eyes weren’t as dense.
He said, “Okay, you can look now.”
A beautiful, polished wood computer desk stood in front of her. It was compact with a removable hutch. “Grady! Where did you—? How did you—? This is too much!”
He pulled her arms along his sides, careful not to hurt her casted one. “No, it’s not too much. I wasn’t going to get you something you didn’t need. You said you needed a computer desk.”
“But I didn’t mean for you—”
“Would it make you feel better if I told you I got it on sale?”
She studied him, trying to gauge his truthfulness.
He shrugged. “It’s one of those pieces of furniture that you’ll be able to hand down someday.”
When she looked up at Grady, she couldn’t speak past the lump in her throat. He was a good man. Had she ever thought she’d meet one of those?
Finally, she managed to say, “I do appreciate your gift. I’ll have a place to work now.”
There was a glimmer in Grady’s eyes that told her he was going to kiss her if they kept standing here. So she stepped back, grabbed his hand and said, “Now let’s go see if you like your present.”
A few moments later they’d settled on the sofa. She handed him the package and he balanced it on his lap. “Is it breakable?”
“Could be.”
“Does it have moving parts?”
“Not exactly. Go on, open it.”
“Anticipation is a wonderful thing,” he teased.
“But anticipation isn’t the real event. You’ve got to get past it to find that.” When she glanced at Grady, she realized they weren’t talking about his Christmas present any longer.
She felt her body warm in anticipation of feeling even closer to Grady. Tonight had been about family and acceptance and Christmas. Now they were left with just the two of them.
Grady untied the green raffia and slipped off the holly paper. When he lifted the lid off the box, he found two pieces of Styrofoam taped together. He separated them and discovered a handcrafted painted pony inside.
“It’s beautiful,” he said, noticing the artist’s name on the horse. “How did you get one of hers? I heard this year’s were all sold out. She only paints three hundred to sell every Christmas.”
“I found it online. I noticed your collection by the fireplace the first day I was here.”
“No one has ever given me one of these. The ones I’ve found, I’ve found on my own. Thank you. I like the horse painted on the horse’s side. It’s a freedom horse, right?”
“It’s also known as a spirit horse, but yes, it represents freedom.”
Carefully he set the horse on the coffee table. Then he leaned toward her. “I think a thank-you kiss is in order.”
“How’s that different from a regular kiss?” she joked, suddenly nervous.
“Let’s try it and see.” His voice was smoky with desire and she suspected he’d been waiting for this all night. To be honest with herself, she had been, too. What would Christmas Eve be without Grady’s kiss?
Before tonight, Christmas hadn’t seemed special. It had been a holiday that had reminded her of a longing for deep and abiding love, the respect and loyalty of someone who knew her and accepted her the way she was. Grady seemed to understand where she came from and where she wanted to go. More than that, he seemed to understand what she wanted for their child—two parents who would put that baby boy ahead of their own desires, wishes and aspirations. Would Grady be the perfect father? Could he be more?
The fire pop, pop, popped, and its hickory scent sailed on the draft. The odor of pine was strong, too. Grady’s kiss brought to mind Christmas sleigh bells, favorite carols, smiles when gifts were given and received. Bows and shiny ornaments were only part of the story. Hearts ready to receive love were the other part. Could she love again? Could she accept love? Could Grady?
He was kissing her now, as if that was the only Christmas gift he wanted to give her. She touched his face, then laced her fingers in his hair.
He groaned, then pulled away, breathing hard. Recovering enough breath to speak, he said, “I want you to stay the night with me, Frannie. Will you?”
Chapter Ten
Francesca knew she shouldn’t. If she did, one of two things would happen. Either she would get closer to Grady and she’d panic, wanting to run away, or tonight would show her they really had nothing but chemistry. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe then she could just concentrate on her baby.
“Stop thinking,” he commanded gently. “Do you want to stay or don’t you?”
She wanted to stay. Oh, how she wanted to stay. “Grady, I don’t know how pregnancy and hormones affect—”
He covered her lips with his finger. “Nod yes or no.”
Gazing into his blue eyes, seeing the desire and hunger there, knowing hers matched it, she could only nod yes.
That seemed to be the signal he’d been waiting for. His hands delved into her hair, he searched her face and then his mouth devoured hers. This wasn’t a slow stroll into desire. It was a diving plunge. Before Francesca knew it, she was swept away—by feelings and sensations that were heightened tonight. Because anticipation was the best fuel for passion?
All she knew was that she couldn’t think very well when Grady kissed her like this. She reacted impulsively, matching his desire, stroking her tongue against his, trying to press as close to him as she could possibly get.
When the baby kicked, he felt it, chuckled and rubbed over his restless child. Then he drew her up from the sofa and swept her into his arms.
“Grady, I’m getting heavy.”
“You may be ten pounds heavier. I lift bales of hay. Remember?”
She laughed. “You’re comparing me to a bale of hay?”
He groaned. “I knew I wouldn’t get that one by you. You know what I mean. I can carry double your weight.”
Asleep on the rug by the fireplace, Shadow shook himself awake. But Grady said to him, “Stay.”
That command seemed agreeable to Shadow because he settled again on the rug and closed his eyes.
Grady strode out of the living room down the hall to his bedroom.
Francesca had never been inside Grady’s bedroom. Many times she’d been tempted to peek, but she hadn’t.
Grady carried her through the doorway and she saw his room had a Western flavor. A four-poster, high-backed pine bed, king-size, took up its share of space. A suede throw with geometric shapes in brown and black lay over the deep brown dust ruffle. Chocolate-brown scatter rugs on the floor added soft, inviting appeal. He walked over those rugs now and carried her to stand beside the bed.
If she had any doubts at all, when he hugged her again, brought her close and said, “Frannie, don’t be afraid,” she realized he knew how momentous this was for her. Tonight wasn’t just about the baby or their desire. It was about so much that had gone before and what could happen next if this was right.
“Do you want to undress me first or should I undress you?” he asked.
She didn’t know if she was shaking because she wanted him so badly or because she was nervous, so she decided, “Let me undress you first.”
“Go at it,” he offered with a grin that was supposed to make her relax. Instead it just made her butterflies flutter more.
After she tunneled her fingers under his sweater and he lifted his arms, she raised it up and over his head. He tossed it and caught her for a kiss—a delicate, whimsical, let’s-see-where-we-can-go kiss that curled her toes.
She reached for the turtleneck under his sweater and when it got caught on his chin, they both laughed. The moment was giving them the opportunity to be playful. And playful she was.
His kiss had been a surprise. Now she gave him one. She leaned into his chest, kissed above both nipples, ran her finger slowly down the center to where the hair arrowed under his belt buckle. He sucked in his stomach, and she knew she was arousing him. His body had gone taut, and he was hardly breathing. His stillness told her he was waiting for what came next, maybe trying to prepare himself for it. She didn’t know what came next because she was playing this by ear.
“Do you want more?” she asked, letting her hand linger under his belt buckle.
“Of course I want more! But I won’t let you have all the fun.” With one quick motion he pulled her sweater up and over her head, quickly, yet careful of her casted arm. “Your breasts are bigger,” he said huskily, appreciating them with his hands. His fingers spread over them, circled them, rounded the nipples with his thumbs.
“I know. It’s hard for me to get used to. I was always small.”
“No, just right.”
His words warmed her the same way his hands were warming her, heating her, lighting a fire.
A few moments later the focus was elsewhere. Sliding his hands lower, oh so slowly, he let them lay on her rounding belly. “Is he moving?”
“A little. Not so much that you can notice. It’s usually around midnight when he likes to kick the hardest.”
Grady laughed. “So we’re going to have a night owl?”
“Apparently.”
Grady bent his head to her abdomen and kissed it. Then he kissed higher, over her breasts, up to her collarbone. Nuzzling her neck, he said, “I think it’s time to get into that bed.”
Baby by Surprise Page 13
