by Susan Gable
“Evil woman.” He hissed as she rubbed him, then reached down and clamped her wrist, stilling her. “Don’t stoke a fire we can’t put out, Amelia. It’s cruel and unusual punishment.”
“Tell me about it.” Despite his grip, she managed to wiggle her fingers, making him twitch again. “I can put this fire out. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Let me touch you, Finn. Let me…make you feel good.”
He groaned. “Don’t tempt me. But I’m not about to engage in…fun…when you can’t have some, too. It’s not fair.”
“Fair? What part of any of this is fair, Finn? Didn’t you tell Chip the day of the surgery that life’s not fair, and he should learn that now? I mean, our daughter’s facing a life-threatening disease and—”
“What did you say?”
“Huh? Life’s not fair?”
He shook his head, then flopped onto his back. “Our daughter. You called her our daughter.”
The urge to deny it burned her tongue. But after all he’d done, after his tears, his obvious love for Jordan…“Yeah. I guess I did.”
He sighed. “Wow.”
“A pronoun doesn’t mean all that much. I can give you a pronoun after tonight.”
“Gee, thanks.”
He returned to his side, looking down at her. “What exactly is the plan, Amelia? For after, I mean. Does that pronoun come with any actual benefits later on, or is it just an empty word?”
She shrugged. “You…this whole situation…my plans are blown to hell. Right now, believe it or not, I’m just trying to get through one day at a time.”
“One day at a time. Okay. That will work for now, I suppose. But not forever, Amelia. I want more.”
Her stomach tightened. She wanted more, too, but wasn’t sure what more looked like. She did know what it didn’t look like—it didn’t look like marriage.
SPENDING TIME together in her bed became something of a habit. One Amelia found she really enjoyed. They talked, they snuggled, they kissed…sometimes they simply lay there in companionable silence.
Other times they lay there in seething hot, frustrated silence, struggling with desire they couldn’t quench. Exasperating as hell to have a batteries-not-required partner but not be able to make use of him. And the stubborn man continued to refuse to allow her to alleviate his frustration.For four long weeks.
The stubborn man in question glanced over at her from the driver’s seat of his Explorer. They’d stopped, she assumed at some sort of intersection. Hard to see the landscape when you were completely reclined in the passenger seat.
“How you feeling over there?”
Amelia tightened her grip on the shoulder portion of the seat belt. The lap portion rode well below her rounded tummy. “Good. Relieved. I mean, at least we know Chip is now sort of out of the woods.”
Late that Sunday afternoon, out of consideration for Amelia so she didn’t have to run into other patients, Bethany had administered an ultrasound in her office. At thirty-five weeks along, Chip was pronounced fully viable. They’d rushed the development of his lungs with steroid injections so that if he was born now, he’d be fine.
Still small, but able to breathe.
But for them, for Jordan, size mattered. So they had to hope he didn’t come early. The stitches that secured him in the womb would stay put until week thirty-eight or thirty-nine, unless Amelia began experiencing contractions, or an increased sense of pressure. In which case Bethany would remove them immediately.
Finally, they were in the home stretch. Although five more weeks in bed until she hit full-term did seem like another eternity. She’d written three journal articles, revamped the office bookkeeping system, to Sia’s dismay, and built a new Web site for the office. She was running out of actual productive things to do. She sighed. “I wish we didn’t have to go straight back to the house. Just driving around, even though I can’t see a damn thing, is such a treat.”
“You’re in luck then,” Finn said, as the car began to move again, “’cause I have a surprise for you.”
Amelia’s stomach churned and she shivered—a Pavlovian response to the word. “You know I hate surprises.”
“You’d rather go back to bed now?”
She gritted her teeth. This was Finn. Not Ron or whatever his real name was. “Are those my only two choices?”
“Yep.”
She rode in silence.
He chuckled. “You’re actually thinking about it, aren’t you? Come on, be brave. Face the big, bad surprise. I think you’ll like it. I’ve put a lot of effort into it.”
A lot of effort? “You’re not helping.” Still…going back to staring at the ceiling in his room… “Okay. I’ll take the surprise.”
“That’s my girl.”
His girl. The concept didn’t jar as much as she expected. In fact, she sort of liked the idea. The last few weeks, drawing closer to him, she’d realized that maybe she had been shortchanging herself. Her daughter.
The gentle motion of the car, combined with actually being out of the bed, being pregnant, and the relief over Chip, made her snooze. She started awake each time they stopped.
Finally, he parked. “We’re here. Give me a few moments to take care of some stuff, okay?”
“Okay.”
The car rocked as he shut his door. The tailgate opened, and she tried to catch a glimpse of what he was doing. To no avail. She couldn’t see a damn thing. And she couldn’t sit up without his help.
He made two more trips to the car before he opened her door and offered her his arm. Finally upright, she glanced out the windshield while the wave of dizziness passed.
A weathered picnic table sat in the sand only yards beyond the car, near the gently lapping lake. Alongside it, he’d pitched a beach umbrella. He’d staked a red-and-white checked cloth to the sand, beside it, an air mattress.
“Oh…” Amelia eased herself out of the car.
Finn scooped her into his arms, trudging through the sand. He carefully sank to his knees, then settled her on the mattress. He peeled off her slippers. “Gotta have bare feet at the beach.” He smiled at her. “I have a few more things to get. You good?”
She nodded. “I’m so good I could burst.”
“No bursting. That would be messy. Good surprise, right?”
It certainly beat being left at the airport while your bank accounts were cleaned out. “Right.”
He jumped up and headed back to the Explorer.
Amelia smoothed the denim circus tent she wore, tucking the edges under her to keep it from blowing. Fashion, never her strongest suit anyway, had been another casualty of her situation.
The wind fanned her skin. The low-riding sun warmed her feet. She wiggled her toes and sighed.
Finn returned with a wicker picnic basket and a silver bucket with a bottle sticking out of it. “Sparkling grape juice,” he explained.
“This…this is amazing, Finn. Is this the same spot where you made the video with Jordan?”
“You’re getting ahead of me.” He scooted across the picnic blanket to her. With a hesitant smile, he uncurled his hand.
Glad you’re here.
She lifted his ink-covered palm to her mouth, pressed a kiss to it. “I’m glad, too.”
Instead of the fried chicken he’d prepared for their indoor beach picnic, this time he’d pulled out all the stops. Shrimp. Bite-size pieces of filet mignon. A medley of summer squash roasted in olive oil. A potato chip and marshmallow fluff sandwich on white bread that they shared, him grimacing, her laughing. The elegant flute he used to serve her sparkling grape juice made her laugh more. “Somehow the straw detracts from the crystal more than the lack of alcohol does, don’t you think?”
He shrugged. “We do the best we can with what we have. Or what we need. Or something like that.” He clinked his glass against hers. “To making lemon meringue pie when life gives us lemons.”
“You’re not calling me a lemon, are you?” She took a sip from the straw.
His blue
eyes twinkled. “No. But now that you mention it…”
A man and woman strolling the beach slowed as they passed. “Aww,” the woman said. “How romantic.”
Face flushing, Finn saluted her with his champagne flute.
As the couple walked farther down the beach, the woman whacked the man on the shoulder with the shoes she was holding. “Jerk.” The wind carried her complaint to them. “How come you don’t do something romantic like that for me?”
“Ow.” The man rubbed his arm. “We’re at the beach enjoying the sunset. Take it or leave it.”
Amelia bit her lip, but burst into laughter once the couple were out of sight. Finn laughed, too.
“Poor guy,” she said, once her giggles had died down. “You set the bar too high for him to follow.”
“Because you’re worth it.” Finn leaned over to kiss her. Suitable for public viewing, it was sweet. Tender.
She completely melted.
He cleaned up their dinner mess, repacking the basket. Then he stretched out beside her. The wispy clouds over the lake turned cotton candy pink. Then peach. Then orange.
Finn fidgeted.
Finally, she turned her head from the glorious setting sun to him. “You’re wiggling like a five-year-old on too much sugar. Do you have sand fleas in your pants or what?”
“Um…or what.” He rose to his knees on the picnic blanket, fumbling in his pocket. “Amelia, I know I’ve already got two strikes against me, but I’m thinking the third time’s the charm. I don’t want to lose you. Or the kids.”
Amelia’s heart began to pound. No, dear God, please, don’t let him go where I think he’s going.
“I know it’s not what either of us planned, but I want us to be together. A real family.”
Her stomach tightened.
The little box creaked as he snapped it open. Sunlight caught in the diamond, casting tiny rainbows across her. “Amelia, will you marry me?”
She covered her mouth with a trembling hand. Her pulse thundered in her ears. “Oh…Finn. Oh, God.” She shook her head as the lovely dinner he’d fed her churned in her stomach. “Marriage…I—I…no. I don’t do marriage.”
His eyes widened. Then his brows drew together. “But—”
“No. No, no, no.” Her whole body shook. Marriage? Because of the kids? To be a family?
“Take some time, Amelia….”
The first man had taken her money. Her pride.
This one wanted something even more precious.
Her children.
Bile rose in her throat. She rolled in the opposite direction of him, coming to rest on her hands and knees on the sand.
He held back her hair while she lost her dinner.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
EVEN HIS HAIR HURT.
Finn stared morosely at the five shot glasses he’d lined up on the kitchen island’s serving bar. Beside an almost full bottle of vodka with a pouring spout.He’d expected some hesitation from her. But not an outright no. And definitely not an oh, hell, no.
He’d knocked back two of the shots before midnight, just to take the edge off, but was waiting to do some serious damage until…
A key turned in the back door, and Hayden sauntered in from his late-night date. He’d postponed his own plans and taken Jordan to the movies earlier, knowing only that Finn had planned a special dinner for Amelia and wanted Jordan occupied.
Finn hadn’t said a word to Amelia since the beach, simply brought her home and returned her to bed. He’d done his damnedest to act normal when Jordan came home. Now both of them were asleep upstairs.
And he’d spend the night back in his temporary room.
Alone.
“Good. You’re home.” He tossed another shot down his throat.
“Didn’t know I had a curfew, Dad.”
“No curfew. I just want someone else here in case Amelia or Jordan need anything. I’m about to get shit-faced.”
Hayden dropped onto the second stool, glancing over the bar. “So I see. What’s the occasion?”
Finn fumbled in his pocket, then slapped the ring box on the island counter. He reached for shot number four.
“It’s not legal in this state for us to get married, bro, but I appreciate the kind offer.”
Finn snorted, then winced, eyes watering as the vodka burned his nasal passages. He lifted the next glass, raised it in Hayden’s direction. “That’s a nicer rejection than I got from Amelia. Salud!” He fired back the liquor.
“What? Here I thought you were looking for courage. You already asked, and she said no?”
“Not only did she say no multiple times, she threw up. She’s taking freakin’ antinausea meds, but the idea of marrying me was that appalling.” That moment was seared into his memory. His divorces had hurt far less. He lifted the bottle, refilled the line of glasses.
“Harsh. Yeah, that calls for some alcohol-induced amnesia.” Hayden culled three glasses from the line. “Still…let’s not get carried away, huh?” He went to the racks of clean dishes by the commercial dishwasher, pulled out two water glasses and added ice. Returning to the island, he dumped Finn’s two shots into one, and three into the other, which he kept for himself. “Let’s move to sipping rather than shooting.”
“Hey, I’m taking it like a man.”
Hayden laughed. “Real men don’t risk alcohol poisoning, so slow it down.”
“Who’da thunk it? You, the voice of reason when it comes to women. I didn’t intend to become a real dad. But it happened.” Finn laid his head on his arm.
“Do you love her?”
“Yeah. I do.”
“What makes you so sure it’s love? And why on earth does that mean you have to marry her?”
“Greg said it the day of his wedding. I won’t risk losing her. Them. I started thinking about what happens when Chip’s born. She’s so damn independent, which is good. And bad. She’ll be gone before I can even think. And I couldn’t imagine my life without them. How empty it would be. That’s love, right? When you can’t imagine life without someone?” He barked a wry laugh.
“Imagine life without them… Hmm…” Hayden took another drink. “I think that’s the answer right there.”
Finn raised his head, then blinked hard to focus on his brother’s face. “What?”
“Remember when Shannon dumped Greg last year? How he kept wanting to run over to her apartment? And what did we both tell him?”
“Give her space. Let her come to her senses.”
“Exactly. And that’s what you need to do. You gotta give her a chance to miss you. Before she gets the green light to split.”
Finn snorted. “How the hell am I supposed to do that?” He gestured at the ceiling. “She’s sleeping up there! She’s dependent on me for almost everything right now.”
“Set her free. Let her depend on someone else. Give her space.”
He stared at his brother.
Hayden took the glass from his hand, set it on the counter. “Send her to Mom and Dad’s.”
AMELIA BLINKED BACK the tears burning her eyes. Dressed for the second day in a row, which should have made it a special occasion, she lay on top of the comforter, not feeling very comforted.
She refused to cry. Especially where Jordan could see.Her daughter folded her arms across her chest and stomped a sandal-clad foot. “I’m not going. I’m staying here.”
“You’ll do as you’re told, Jordan.” The weariness of her voice wouldn’t convince anyone, let alone a teenager, that she had the energy to enforce her command.
“No. I won’t. You still haven’t told me why we have to go. I’m not stupid. I know you had a fight about something. What happened last night?”
Hayden appeared in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot. He’d been charged with loading their stuff into Finn’s Explorer and moving them.
“Ask your fath—Finn.” He was putting her out. He hadn’t given her a chance to explain how she cared for him, was sorry she’d hurt him… Hell, she’
d crushed him; she’d seen it in his eyes. But marrying wasn’t something she’d ever do again. Ever.
“I did. He said to ask you.”
“What can I tell you?” Amelia shrugged. “The truth!”
“I’ll tell you, pip.” Hayden glared at Amelia. “Finn asked your mother to marry him and make him part of your family. She said no, and broke his heart. Having her around now would hurt him too much, so you’re moving to Grandma and Grandpa’s. End of story.”
Jordan’s arms dropped to her sides, and her mouth gaped open. “He asked…you said no? I can’t believe it.” She left abruptly, pounding down the back staircase.
“Hayden! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Letting the cat out of the bag. It’s not good to keep cats in bags. Things die that way.”
“It wasn’t your place.”
“Ask me if I care.” He stalked to the bed and scooped Amelia into his arms. Though anger radiated from him, he held her gently as he started from the room.
“Wait, wait! I’m not ready.” She grabbed on to the door frame as he was carrying her through.
“The longer you wait, the harder it’s going to be.” Compassion softened his tone. “Just let go.”
Sage advice. No point in trying to hang on to a man she never intended to marry. One who’d shown that when things didn’t go his way, he’d kick her out on her ass.
Just like her stepfathers—and some of the “uncles”—had done to her mother.
Swallowing hard, Amelia slowly released her death grip on the wooden frame. She looped her arms around his neck. Hayden headed down the hall.
“Aren’t we using the back stairs?”
“No. He’s in the kitchen, prepping for lunch. He’s already bandaged three fingers this morning, and I’d rather he didn’t actually slice one off.”
Her throat constricted. She struggled to speak. “What about Jordan?”
“Maybe it would be best if we get you settled first. I can come back for Jordan later. I’ll bring your car over, too.”
Leave her daughter, who was now mad at her, with Finn, who was equally mad? That didn’t sound like much of a plan. Still, it would give her a chance to figure out what to say to Jordan.
