She slipped off his lap and allowed the robe to fall to the floor. Ben stood and reached for the buckle on his belt.
“Ben?” Megan said. “That sack you brought in with you is getting soggy.”
“Uh-oh.” He snatched it from the floor and dropped it into the trash basket.
“What’s in it?”
“An ice-cream cone,” he said, smiling at her. “It was a symbol of the fact that I finally understand what love is all about. I’ll explain it ” his glance slid over Megan’s naked body in a heated path “—later.”
Ben shed his clothes as quickly as the cast on his hand allowed, then they tumbled onto the bed.
They touched, kissed, explored anew all and everything about the one they loved, the person, the man, the woman, their partner for life.
When they could bear no more, Ben entered Megan’s willing body, filling her, joining them to create one entity, one being. They soared to their place of ecstasy, bursting upon it as they called the name of the other, holding fast, knowing that in heart, mind and soul, they would never be parted again.
Afterward they lay close as Ben told Megan of his meeting with Professor Wilson, of later seeing the professor’s wife bring her husband an ice-cream cone and the love that had emanated from the couple.
He related the story of the chance meeting with Janie, the woman who was so happy because she and her husband were about to become parents of a baby girl.
“It doesn’t matter that Professor Wilson can’t walk,” Ben said. “It doesn’t matter that Brian can never father a child. All that’s important is the love those people have for each other. Thanks to you, Megan, I finally get it, finally understand. Man, I’m dense.”
“Yep,” Megan said, entwining her fingers in the moist curls on Ben’s chest. “You’re a stubborn Italian, Dr. Rizzoli.”
“It won’t be easy, Megan, all the things we’ll have to deal with in the future.”
“Nothing can defeat us, Ben. Not now. Not ever.”
They were silent for several minutes, sated, contented, each lost in their own thoughts.
“Megan,” Ben said finally, “I never called my brothers to get an update on the condition of their eyesight after all these months. I think I should do that now, while we’re together.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what we should do. Your future is my future. My future is yours.”
Ben chuckled. “Are we back to raising chickens?”
“No,” Megan said, laughing. “I have a fabulous plan for what I want to do. I’ll tell you all about it But first...”
“First, we call my brothers. The days of playing ostrich are over. No more of that. No more anger, self-pity, the whole crummy nine yards. I’m just Ben, doing what I have to do.”
“And I love you.”
“Mmm.”
“Mmm,” Megan echoed.
An hour later Ben replaced the receiver to the telephone, then got to his feet and began to pace naked around the room.
“This is crazy,” he said. “I don’t know what to think. The brother who was having blurred vision had ordinary cataracts that have been tended to. He sees fine now. The next brother in line who was having daily headaches had a chronic sinus infection that has been treated. What in the hell does all this mean?”
Megan left the bed and went to Ben, wrapping her arms around his waist and looking up at him.
“It means,” she said, “that no one, not your brothers, nor us, really knows what’s going to happen. Maybe this mysterious menace has run its course, won’t affect the rest of the Rizzoli males. Or maybe this is just a momentary reprieve, the lull before the storm that is yet to strike all of you. There’s no way to know.
“But, Ben? However it goes, whatever happens, we’ll be fine, because our love is stronger than anything that may attempt to defeat us. The now is ours. And, oh, my darling Ben, the future is ours, as well.”
Ben kissed Megan deeply, then lifted her into his arms and carried her back to the bed.
No more words were spoken for a very long time.
None were needed, because love had said it all.
Epilogue
Aunt Prudence and Aunt Charity bustled across the lobby of Hamilton House, chatting happily as they headed for the elevator.
“It was such a beautiful wedding,” Aunt Prudence said with a wistful sigh. “Our Ben was so handsome, and our Megan was a beautiful bride. They’re so very much in love, Charity.”
“Most brides and grooms are, Pru,” Charity said. “The big news is that Jennifer caught the bridal bouquet. Did you see the look on her face? You would have thought those flowers were rotten eggs.”
“Jennifer doesn’t wish to remarry, dear,” Pru said.
“Oh, posh,” Charity said as they entered the elevator. “What does she know?”
As the doors of the elevator swished closed, the front doors of the hotel opened once again. Andrea and Brandon strolled in, Brandon’s arm encircling Andrea’s shoulders as she dabbed at her nose with a tissue.
“I just adore weddings,” Andrea said, sniffling.
Brandon chuckled. “Yep, you really look like you had fun. By the way, your nose is pink.”
“I’m just so happy for Megan and Ben,” Andrea said, then stopped walking and took a steadying breath. “There. I’m fine now. Crying tears of joy makes me hungry. Let’s go into the dining room and have a snack.”
Brandon bent over slightly and spoke to Andrea’s stomach.
“Hello, hello, daughter of mine,” he said. “What would you like to eat?”
“You’re going to be eating crow if this baby is a boy,” Andrea said.
“Would you care to make a small wager on our blessed event, my sweet?”
“Ah, a baby bet,” a deep voice said. “That brings back fond memories.”
Andrea and Brandon turned in the direction of the voice just as a man sitting in one of the high-back chairs in the lobby lowered a newspaper and smiled at them. He was tall, well-built, had dark, thick, auburn hair, brown eyes and ruggedly handsome features.
“I’ll be damned,” Brandon said, a grin breaking across his face. “Jack MacAllister. How are you, Jack? Even more, what are you doing here?”
Jack MacAllister got to his feet, placed the newspaper in the chair, and strode forward to greet an approaching Brandon. The men shook hands, then punched each other on the shoulder.
“There’s that strange male bonding number, or whatever it is,” Andrea said, laughing. “The deeper the friendship, the harder you punch each other. Weird. Very weird.”
“No worse than women who cry at weddings, then say they thoroughly enjoyed themselves,” Brandon said. “Andrea, come meet this worthless bum.”
Andrea joined the pair, Brandon made introductions, then Jack bowed.
“Jack MacAllister at your service, ma’am,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to meet the lovely lady who snagged Mr. Playboy of Manhattan here. I would have sworn it couldn’t be done.”
“Oh?” Andrea said, raising her eyebrows. “Do tell.”
“No,” Brandon said. “He’s not telling any tales of the old days. Cork it, MacAllister. Let’s go have a piece of pie and you can explain what you’re doing so far from the Big Apple.”
The trio was soon settled at a table in the hotel dining room, digging into slices of hot cherry pie.
“Delicious,” Jack said, then paused. “So, when do you become a daddy, Brandon?”
“First of March,” he said. “Thanksgiving is only a couple of weeks away. Our baby girl will be here before we know it.”
“Easy for you to say,” Andrea said. “You’re not the one lugging her around.” She rolled her eyes heavenward. “Now you’ve got me doing it. She could very well be a he.”
“There was a time,” Jack said, “when I would have said you needed my cousin, Forrest, to settle this squabble. Forrest won every baby bet that took place within our family, plus some extras on the side.
“My aunt Margaret, For
rest’s mother, used to write or call me every time it happened. The man could not be beat. It was eerie, it really was.”
“I remember Forrest,” Brandon said. “Didn’t he come to visit you in New York years ago? Sure, that was him. He came with his brothers, Ryan and Michael. None of them was married then.”
“Yep, those were the boys, my cousins,” Jack said. “Man, we sure had a good time going to all the—” he shot a quick glance at Andrea “—muse—ums, didn’t we?”
“Museums,” Brandon said, nodding. “Yes. Lots of museums. Very informative, educational places, those museums.”
“Oh, please, give it up,” Andrea said, laughing.
“Not buying museums, huh?” Brandon said, smiling at her.
“Five bachelors on the loose in Manhattan?” she said. “Museums were the last thing on your swinging singles minds.”
Jack shook his head. “Good thing there wasn’t a bachelor bet going on, or I’d be busted broke. I’m the only one of that rowdy group who isn’t married. I would have put money on all of you guys being confirmed bachelors.”
“And my boyhood friend, Ben Rizzoli, got married today,” Brandon said. “The odds are looking good, Jack. Maybe we should start a bachelor bet. I’ll collect my money and buy you a wedding present.”
“No way,” Jack said, raising both hands. “I’m on my own and doing fine, thank you very much.”
“Back up to this baby bet business,” Andrea said. “You made it sound as though Forrest eventually lost his knack at winning.”
“He did,” Jack said, nodding. “He was on a roll, was really hot. He even predicted that his wife, Jillian, would have triplet girls and, son of a gun, she did. Those identical dolls are five and a half years old now.
“Anyway, let me tell you, it was getting pretty scary the way Forrest would nail the baby bet time after time.”
“Then what happened?” Andrea said, leaning slightly forward.
“Well, there’s this guy, Ted Sharpe. He’s not a MacAllister, but he might as well be because he’s like a member of the family. He’s a cop, the partner of my cop cousin, Ryan.
“Ted said that his Hannah would have a baby girl on Christmas Day. Forrest predicted that she’d have a boy on New Year’s Day. Remember now. Forrest was the baby bet champion of long standing.”
“And?” Andrea said eagerly.
“Patricia Elizabeth, known as Patty, popped into the world to say hello to Santa Claus.”
“Forrest lost the baby bet?” Andrea said.
“Yep,” Jack said, nodding. “Not only that, but ever since then, the daddies have pegged it. As more little MacAllisters came along—and, man. there are a slew of them—the daddy-to-be has won the baby bet.”
“That’s amazing,” Andrea said, sinking back in her chair.
“I love it.” Brandon ran his hand down his tie and puffed out his chest. “The daddies are geniuses. We, sweet wife, are having a girl.”
Andrea stared at Brandon with wide eyes. “I’m beginning to believe you.”
“You should,” Jack said. “Brandon and I have been friends for many years. That makes him a MacAllister of sorts. Yes, ma’am, I’d put my money on a girl in a baby bet based on Brandon’s prediction.”
Andrea laughed. “You’re as cocky as Brandon is, Jack. I like the idea of a bachelor bet much better.”
“I’m outta here,” Jack said, pretending to rise from his chair.
“You haven’t told me why you’re here in Prescott yet,” Brandon said.
“As unbelievable as it may sound,” Jack said, “I dropped out of the fast lane of New York, just as you did, Brandon.”
“You’re kidding,” Brandon said.
“I told you it was unbelievable. I woke up one morning in my apartment in Manhattan and walked smack into a wall, because I thought I was still in a hotel in Hong Kong. Enough was enough.”
“What type of work do you do?” Andrea said.
“I’m an architect,” Jack said. “I think there’s an extra gene or something that some MacAllisters get. There are a bunch of architects in our family.
“There’s going to be a reunion of the whole clan at Christmastine over in Ventura, California. I folded my tent in New York and started driving cross-country a month ago, stopping, exploring, when the mood hit. I decided to look you up, Brandon, since I was in the neighborhood.
“When I eventually get to California in time for the holidays, I’m going to join the firm of MacAllister Architects, Incorporated.”
“I’ll be damned,” Brandon said. “Oops—mustn’t swear in front of my daughter. So, you’re in no rush to leave Prescott?”
Jack shrugged and took another bite of pie.
Andrea and Brandon looked at each other, then Andrea nodded.
“It’s fate,” she said. “Meant to be.”
“Hmm?” Jack said, looking up again.
“We’ve decided to have an architect draw up plans for our house, because we just haven’t been able to find what we’re looking for,” Brandon said. “What do you say, buddy? Want the job?”
“On one condition,” Jack said, narrowing his eyes as he looked at Andrea.
“Which is?” she said.
“That you forget all about this bachelor bet nonsense,” Jack said.
Andrea Cunningham Hamilton just smiled.
ISBN : 978-1-4592-6025-2
THE MOST ELIGIBLE M.D
Copyright © 1999 by Joan Elliott Pickart
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The Most Eligible M.D. (The Bachelor Bet #3) Page 18
