Allison stiffened. This was the subject she and Chas never really talked about. The regret. She’d told him about the baby, of course, on a tearful night long ago. And he’d fought back his own tears as he’d held her, then made love to her as if trying to erase the memory, a memory not even her nightmare with Dorchester had eliminated.
She tried pulling out of Chas’s embrace, but he held her fast against his warm body.
“Don’t go,” he said.
“Chas—”
“I know. We’ve always known that we can’t have any more children together.”
Despite the pain the topic brought, she had the fleeting thought that she loved him all the more for the casual way he’d said we can’t have any more children, when it certainly wasn’t true—he could.
She couldn’t relax in his arms now. She felt something akin to one of the panic attacks that had seized her so painfully two years ago. And he didn’t let her escape and run now, just as he hadn’t then.
“But that doesn’t mean we can’t raise a child together.”
The whole world seemed to still. All she could hear was a roaring in her ears and the thundering of his heartbeat against her cheek. And felt the hope. A staggering, terrifying hope.
“We did a pretty fine job with Billy.”
“You did,” she managed to croak out.
“And who was it who coached him through his finals? Who talked him into trying out for that play? Who helped him with his tux for the senior prom? Who listened to his girlfriend troubles and saved the day?”
Allison’s eyes filled with tears, though she couldn’t have said what the tears represented.
“I want us to adopt a baby, Allison. I’ll understand if you don’t want to rush into it right away, but I’d like us to talk about it.”
When she pulled away from him this time, he let her go. She rose and brushed her now moderately long hair back from her face. She couldn’t think what to say to him. Couldn’t think how to say anything. He deserved his own child. He’d sacrificed everything to raise Billy, his happiness, his life with her. And had never once wished otherwise.
“Allison?”
In the single, agonized vocalization of her name, she heard his deep longing, his love for her, his acknowledgment of her pain and doubts. And his understanding.
“Yes,” she said.
He didn’t speak then, and she knew that he was trying to assimilate her answer.
“I’m saying yes.”
Still he was silent and finally, having blinked back most of the tears, she turned to him and lifted her hands to cup his dear face. “I love you, Chas. Like you, I always have and I always will.”
“Allison—”
“Shhh,” she whispered, angling her little finger over to press gently against his lips. “You are the best father I’ve ever seen. And I would love to raise a child with you.” She couldn’t hold back the tears now, the emotions were too strong for any semblance of control. She loved him so much.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“As sure as I am of our love,” she answered brokenly.
He wiped the tears from her face, not bothering to hide the sheen in his own eyes as he met her gaze gravely. “Then I can tell Sammie Jo her scheme worked?”
Allison gave a watery chuckle. “Her schemes almost always do.”
He grinned crookedly and pulled her close for a long, lingering kiss that once and for all put all debts and wrongs from the past firmly to rest.
“What can you expect when they come from a town named Almost?” he asked.
“Everything,” she answered, kissing him back fully, loving the way his hands lowered to run over the swell of her breasts, loving him.
“Everything it is then,” he murmured, pulling her atop him, sliding his hands down her back, massaging her, nuzzling her, enticing her to renewed passion.
“Half the town must be talking about it already then,” she said, digging her fingers into his hair and gasping a little as she rose to sheath him with her own silken heat.
“Oh, they’re already planning the christening party,” he said before capturing a taut nipple and plying it with his tongue.
Allison inhaled sharply, arching back even as she leaned into him. “I suppose they’ve already picked out the name.”
“Sure,” he said, pausing only long enough to draw her down upon him, groaning as he slid deeply within her. With a visible effort, he continued, “They’re calling it ‘Doc-and-Allison’s -youngun.’ All one word.”
Allison chuckled and cradled him to her breasts, relishing his strong hands on her back, then forgetting what made her chuckle as he drove slowly and steadily into her. And soon, she couldn’t remember anything at all except her overwhelming love for the man who had been her husband now for two blissful years.
Much later, once again nestled in his arms, the Christmas tree lights again sending a glow over their sated bodies, Allison chuckled. “I guess we’ll have to explain to our son or daughter why we set up the Christmas tree in February.”
“Why? Doesn’t everyone?”
Don’t miss MARRIED BY DAWN,
the next wonderful story by Marilyn Tracy.
Look for this memorable romance in
Silhouette Intimate Moments’s
special two-in-one collection,
BRIDES OF THE NIGHT,
IM883, available in October 1998.
ISBN : 978-1-4592-6567-7
ALMOST REMEMBERED
Copyright © 1998 by Tracy LeCocq
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 300 East 42nd Street, New York, NY 10017 U.S.A.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and TM are trademarks of Harlequin Books S.A., used under license. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
Almost Remembered Page 22
