Make Room for Baby

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  Tad shut the bedroom door behind him. He headed straight for her. As he neared her, he rolled his eyes. “It’s hideous, isn’t it?” he whispered bluntly.

  Abby was unable to take her eyes off her reflection. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” she murmured, her humorous expression mirroring how they both felt. “If I were Lucy Ricardo or June Cleaver,” she quipped, “this would have been a great dress.”

  Tad continued to regard her skeptically. “Look, you don’t have to wear it. I’ll just go down and talk to Aunt Sadie.”

  Abby thought about the hours of work that had gone into this and curled a hand around his biceps before he could depart. “No, Tad, don’t,” she said, her fingers warming to the solid feel of his flesh. “You’ll hurt her feelings.” And that was the last thing in the world Abby wanted.

  “I know, but—”

  “But nothing,” Abby said firmly, already thinking of ways to accessorize the dress to make it a little more current. “She’s your aunt. And she did this out of love for both of us.” Abby smiled at him warmly. “I’ll wear it.”

  “THERE’S SOMETHING your husband needs to understand and, quite frankly, doesn’t,” Joe Don Jerome told Abby at the open house. Dressed in an all-white summer suit, white boater-style hat, white shirt, white shoes and black bow tie, the only used- and new-car dealer in Blossom was as flamboyant in person as he was in his humorous television commercials. “It isn’t good for business when he prints inflammatory letters to the editor like the one he ran last week.”

  “There are no crooks in Blossom,” Nowell Haines, a buttoned-up banker in a three-piece suit continued, sweat glistening on his brow.

  Cullen Marshall, who was known as much for his bad toupee as the insurance policies he sold, said smugly, “Your hubby never should’ve started that Troubleshooter hot line, either.”

  Nowell Haines nodded as he mopped his face with a handkerchief. “Businesses around here don’t need to be investigated.”

  There Abby disagreed, as did the rest of the Blossom Weekly staff.

  “Particularly when those same businesses supply a lot of his advertising revenue for this newspaper,” Joe Don Jerome told Abby flatly.

  “And, as the little woman in this situation,” Cullen Marshall continued, “you undoubtedly have a lot of influence over that new hubby of yours.” Well, that, Abby thought, was a matter of opinion. She couldn’t think of a single thing she could dissuade Tad from doing if he really had his heart set on it.

  “And now that you know how things are done by those in the know here...” Cullen began when Tad sauntered over to join the four of them. He wrapped an arm around Abby’s waist and tugged her close. Everywhere they touched, Abby felt solid male muscle.

  “Gentlemen.” Tad nodded at Joe Don, Nowell and Cullen, then looked at Abby as though she was the only woman in the world. “What’s going on, darlin’?”

  Cullen Marshall adjusted his toupee, elbowed his way forward and cut in before Abby had a chance to answer. “We were just explaining to your wife here why it’d be smart of you not to stir up any more trouble, running unsigned letters to the editor in the town newspaper.”

  “’Cause if you do,” his buddy Nowell Haines warned, “we might be forced to pull our advertising.”

  Tad smiled like a shark in a wading pool and studied the trio of businessmen skeptically. “Is that so?” he countered pleasantly, a warning to back off—now—underlying his low tone.

  “You better believe it,” Joe Don Jerome replied, stepping forward and flashing Tad a crocodile grin of his own. His eyes narrowed maliciously as he continued threatening Tad with grating Southern charm. “’Cause we know you put your life savings into this. And we’d all just hate to see you lose your shirt.”

  Tad remained unimpressed. “I wouldn’t worry about it,” he drawled.

  “Do the right thing and you won’t have anything to worry about,” Cullen Marshall warned smoothly as the three businessmen moved off.

  As soon as they did, Abby released a long breath. She hadn’t realized until the three businessmen left how tense they’d been making her.

  Tad kissed her head just above her ear. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  There was no doubt she felt a lot safer in his arms. Staying cozily within his protective grip, Abby turned to him. “You’re the one who should be worried,” she murmured, looking up into his handsome face.

  “About the Three Stooges?”

  As Abby watched them leave the building, a shiver ran through her. “They’re angry, Tad.”

  “They are also most likely crooks. Otherwise they wouldn’t be so worried.”

  Abby bit her lower lip. Aware she didn’t know quite as much about Tad’s financial situation as she’d like, she continued to regard him steadily. “Can they put you out of business?”

  “Not unless I let them,” Tad told her confidently as he led her toward the refreshment table and paused to pour them both some lemonade. “And I don’t intend to let them.”

  “How much revenue do you get from the ads they place?” she asked quietly.

  Tad helped himself to a flaky cheese puff from Audrey’s Bakery and Café down the street. “In the past their ads have paid for nearly twenty percent of every issue.” He handed Abby one, too.

  “Ouch.” Abby bit into the fragrant flaky appetizer.

  “Yeah,” Tad said, now helping himself to a stuffed mushroom cap. “But I don’t want their dirty money. Besides, I had two new advertisers sign up this evening already.”

  “That’s great.” Abby sampled the quiche squares.

  “And we’ll have even more signing on when we get the Lifestyle section up and running.”

  The rest of the evening was a blur of introductions and question-and-answer sessions. By the time Tad and Abby picked up a pizza and salad and got home at ten-thirty, she was exhausted. Tad poured the milk while she brought out the plates. Both kicked off their shoes. They settled down on the sofa and dug in.

  Tad playfully nudged her thigh with his. “Did I mention how pretty you looked tonight?”

  Abby blushed and rolled her eyes. She’d done her best to accessorize the outfit, but even with her hair down and a white summer sweater over her shoulders, she was acutely aware she’d still looked like the heroine out of a fifties TV sitcom.

  “I’m serious,” Tad said gently as they clinked their milk glasses together in a silent toast. “Most women couldn’t have managed to look thoroughly competent and professional in a dress like that, but somehow you did. Whenever you talked about your plans for the Lifestyle section, you just glowed.”

  “You looked and sounded pretty excited yourself,” she said. In fact, it was impossible not to get excited about the prospects for the future when Tad spoke about his plans for the newspaper.

  “It was really nice of you to wear that dress,” he continued.

  Abby shrugged. “No nicer than Sadie making it for me,” she said as their eyes met.

  “Speaking of Sadie—” Tad grinned “—she got a promotion tonight. She’s going to be doing some writing for the newspaper, too. So she’s not going to have time to sew any more dresses for you. I told her that was okay because I’m driving you to the closest maternity shop first thing tomorrow morning. And I’m going to do my husbandly duty and make sure you’re outfitted properly from head to toe.”

  Abby considered this while she munched on her pizza. “And she wasn’t hurt?”

  “No, excited.” Tad smiled. “I also told her we needed some hand-sewn quilts and blankets and sheets for the baby’s room. So she’s going to talk to you and Donna about color schemes and get right on that.”

  Abby shook her head in silent admiration. “That was really nice of you,” she said softly at last.

  Tad put his plate aside and pulled her onto his lap so that her bottom was nestled snugly in the warm hard cradle of his thighs. “Don’t you know there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you?” he said tenderly as he sifted his hands through he
r hair.

  “Tad...” Abby groaned as his sexy bedroom eyes met and held hers again.

  “Abby...” He mocked her lightly, then lowered his head and took her mouth in a searing kiss. Abby moaned. Tad deepened the kiss and wrapped his arms around her, the pressure of his hands on her back bringing her intimately close. A torrent of need swept through her, sending all her senses into an uproar. It felt so good to be wanted and touched again, Abby thought. Desire trembled inside her, making her insides go all warm and syrupy.

  Tad made a low contented sound in the back of his throat. “I’m ready to make love anytime.” He brushed the hair from her nape. His warm breath caressed the skin of her neck, sending yet another shiver of desire coursing through her.

  “All you have to do is let me know you’ve changed your mind, and we’ll turn this into a real marriage.”

  But was that true? Abby wondered without warning, a tidal wave of conflicting feelings surging through her. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, there was still so much she didn’t know about Tad. Things that Sadie—and perhaps even his old friend Donna—knew. Like what had happened in Houston. If they wanted to have a chance of making things work for the long haul, the two of them had to get to know each other first and form a friendship that was so strong, so enduring, it would last the lifetime of their child. She knew Tad well enough now to realize that wouldn’t happen if she let them be distracted by passionate sex.

  “I’ll just bet you are.” She sighed wistfully, a part of her wishing she could still be as foolish and impetuous and driven by passion as they had been in Paris. But with a baby on the way—their baby—that was no longer possible. Like it or not, Abby told herself sternly, she had to be responsible. Her child’s happiness—and hers and Tad’s—depended on it.

  “But?” Tad prodded as his black brows drew together.

  Reluctantly Abby reminded herself they were only in this predicament because she’d rushed into bed with Tad. She was far too savvy to make the same mistake again. “But we have to get up very early tomorrow if we’re going to go clothes shopping together before we head to the paper.”

  Tad tensed from head to toe. “So no go,” he guessed, disappointed.

  “No go,” Abby confirmed, delivering a look meant to quell him into submission even as she wished she weren’t so damn susceptible to his kisses.

  He loosened his hold on her. While he accepted her decision, clearly he was not giving up. “You know where I’ll be if you change your mind,” he told her as he lightly, triumphantly kissed her forehead one last time.

  Yes, Abby thought, sighing wistfully as her still-tingling body continued to telegraph its regret. That was the problem—she did.

  Chapter Six

  “You’re not playing fair,” Abby told Tad late the next morning as she cornered him in the supply room at the rear of the building.

  Figuring this was one conversation the rest of the staff did not need to hear, Tad shut the door behind him and put down the package of yellow legal pads he’d been about to tear open. He took his time getting to her side. “What do you mean?”

  Abby tossed her head imperiously. Color swept into her cheeks. She pursed her bow-shaped lips together. “Asking everyone how to sex up the copy during the staff meeting.”

  “I think the word I used was jazz,” Tad corrected, amused and pleased to see he’d gotten under her skin just as he’d hoped. “Jazz things up.”

  “Then you went on to say sex sells.”

  Tad braced his shoulder against the wall and tilted his head down at her. “It does. Everything from toothpaste to cars to beer.”

  Abby rolled her eyes in exasperation. “I’m not arguing that.”

  “Furthermore,” Tad continued, more aware than ever how pretty and pulled-together she looked with her golden-brown hair fastened by a stylish silver barrette at the nape of her slender neck, “no one else seemed to mind.”

  Abby folded her arms militantly and leaned back against the wall. “That’s because they were full of ideas about features on the most romantic places to dine, what kind of mattresses were best and where to go on dates in the good old summertime.”

  Tad stepped close enough to inhale the intoxicating vanilla fragrance of her perfume. “Cindy’s idea about starting a G-rated Personals column was a good one, don’t you think?”

  “Yes. I’m sure it’ll cause quite a stir.”

  He looked into her eyes, deliberately holding her gaze, daring her to look away. “Then what’s the problem?” He was tired of putting his desire for her on hold, and yet he didn’t want to hurt her. He didn’t want her thinking that the only reason he wanted them to stay married was the baby they were expecting, because it just wasn’t true. He’d wanted her from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her and he still did. The question was, how could he make her believe it? Not just in her head but in her heart.

  “Like you don’t know exactly what I’m so fired up about.”

  His expression all innocence, Tad flattened his hands over his chest. “I don’t.” And it was true.

  “Then I’ll spell it out for you, my dear husband.” Abby propped both her hands on her trim hips. “It was the way you’ve been looking at me all morning long!”

  Ahhh. Now they were getting somewhere. He touched her face with his callused palm, cupping her chin in his hand, running his thumb across her lower lip. “Like I wanted to put my arms around you and kiss you again?”

  “Yes!”

  “Can’t help that.” Tad shrugged and dropped his hand. “It’s the way I feel.”

  Abby glared at him, refusing to back down. “Tad, this was a staff meeting,” she admonished with a weariness that went all the way to her soul.

  “We’re all one big family here. I thought I’d made that clear.” Plus, everyone—except Abby, it seemed—knew he was head over heels in love with his wife and always would be, no matter how this hasty marriage of theirs turned out.

  Abby turned away from him stubbornly. “Yes, you did.”

  “Then you also know that no one else seemed to mind if every once in a while there was a spark or two between us.”

  “A spark!” Abby echoed. “More like a bonfire!”

  So, Tad thought, pleased he was getting to her. Maybe more than he’d realized.

  “Did I tell you how much I like what you’re wearing?” That morning, before they’d gone shopping, she’d asked to borrow one of his shirts and a tie. Curious to see what she was going to do, he’d opened up his closet and given her free rein. She’d selected a jade green twill dress shirt and a jade, black and amber necktie and later paired both with a pair of dressy black maternity slacks and leather flats.

  Abby sighed and fiddled with the hem of his loose-fitting shirt. “You probably think I should be wearing one of those maternity blouses we purchased for me this morning.”

  Tad grinned and shook his head. That wasn’t the case at all. He loved the idea of her in his clothes. The buttoned-up look was damn sexy on her. He even liked the way she’d rolled up the cuffs twice to make the sleeves the proper length for her. “You look a lot better in that shirt and tie than I ever did,” he said. And he understood Abby’s reluctance to make the leap to total maternity wear just yet, when she was showing only a little bit. He curled a hand about her waist and guided her close. “You look...very sexy in a Katharine Hepburn sort of way,” he said, kissing her cheek. “What’s even sexier is this.” He slid a hand beneath her shirt and caressed her tummy.

  Abby sighed and melted against him. Tad gave in to a whim and touched her face with the back of his hand. It felt like hot silk beneath his flesh, softer than the petals on the bouquet of roses he’d bought for her their first night in Paris. He let his hand slide beneath her hair to the nape of her neck. He tilted her face up to his. The way she looked at him then—all soft and wanting and vulnerable—made his heart pound even harder. This was tough on her, too. Tough on both of them. He knew she needed him, even if she wouldn’t yet let hers
elf admit it.

  “I meant what I said last night,” he told her softly, guiding her closer still. “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you.” He knew damn well there would be hell to pay later, but right now he couldn’t help himself. Abby was his wife, she was carrying their child, and he wanted her more than life itself. He lowered his lips to hers, slanted his mouth over hers and poured everything he felt, everything he wanted, into the slow leisurely caress.

  Abby moaned, soft and low in her throat. Her hands came up to ineffectually push at his chest, then ended up wrapped around his neck. He felt the need pouring out of her, mingling with the desire and the tenderness that was so much a part of her, too. And knew no matter what happened, he would never get enough of her.

  Abby hadn’t meant this to happen. But then, she thought, as Tad kissed her with a thoroughness that shook her to her very soul, she never did. The yearning that swept through her was almost unbearable. Her breasts ached and burned for the nimble play of his fingers while lower still she longed to be as one. Moaning, she chalked up her wantonness to pregnancy hormones and surrendered to the need pouring through her. She stopped fighting him, fighting this, and let herself go. Threading her hands through his hair, she kissed him back passionately, wildly, until everywhere their bodies touched, liquid fire pooled.

  And that was when it happened. When the door swung open behind them and an unsuspecting Sadie barged in.

  “Whoops!” Sadie said, laughing and clapping an astonished hand to her face.

  “Honeymooners,” said Raymond, who was standing behind her and chuckling, too. He shook his head. “When we noticed the two of them had disappeared, we should’ve known.”

  “YOU CAN STOP blushing now,” Sadie told Abby as they went over the layout for the next edition of the paper. “It was only a little kiss.”