Closing Costs

by Liz Crowe

  Jack's strokes were perfunctory at first. Sara sensed his uneasiness like a physical presence between them. Then she felt it – a bump, some pressure, then a distinct heel or elbow as the baby rolled and mounded on one side of her. "Holy shit," he breathed. Sara blushed.

  "Shhh…" the couple next to them admonished.

  "Sorry." He leaned up, pressed his strong, warm torso against her back.

  "Now, mama, lean back on his shoulder, let yourself relax. Breathe deep and clean. Let it out slow." The woman wandered off. Sara closed her eyes and tried not to cry. The crystal-clear rightness of this moment, sitting cradled between Jack's legs, his strong hands caressing her stomach as the baby seemed to sense a new presence and played hell with Sara's internal organs. She sighed, breathed deep.

  "Relax," He whispered. "You're as tense as a damn guitar string. Breathe."

  His deep voice conjured up memories and forced her into an odd, almost dreamlike state. She let go of the near constant tension she held daily. "That's it, baby. Like that." His voice dropped an octave and Sara got another sensation shooting through her. Pure, unbridled horny. She shifted a little, kept her eyes closed, but her breathing got faster. His hands kept moving. The baby fluttered around and then settled.

  He rubbed, caressed all around the tight drum of her stomach. One hand made its way low, under the overhang of her belly. He growled in her ear. "I have such a hard on right now. Do not get up too fast." She grinned at his low-voiced admission.

  "Mmm hmmm," she pressed back against him, as a sharp shaft of need pierced her brain. "You're gonna have to take me home after this, you know?" She kept her voice soft.

  "Yeah. Well. Not happening. Friends, remember?" She groaned a little. Your bed, Sara. Lie in it. "But seriously don't move. I love the feel of you against me."

  She sighed and let him soothe her a few more minutes. Until the Lamaze lady made them stand and Sara got to giggle at Jack's attempt to adjust himself. The sight of him, of what she knew damn well lay beneath that straining dress pants zipper, made her breathless. She turned away, angry at herself for making him do this.

  "Now let's do our best middle school slow dance shall we?"

  Jack rolled his eyes but tugged her close. She put her arms around his neck, going up on her tiptoes to reach him and whispered. "Thanks for coming with me."

  "Sure. When is the next one?" She grinned, and gave him a light kiss, reveling for a half second in his familiar taste on her lips. No. Stop. Don't do it. Let him help you, be a friend, but that is it.

  "Next week." He pressed a hand into the small of her back, somehow providing just enough pressure to relieve the twinge of pain she'd developed sitting for so long.

  "I'll be here."

  Chapter Four

  Craig stretched his legs and leaned back in the stiff office chair. He still had hours of work to do but the bright sunshine streaming in the front office window distracted him. He glanced at his phone and suppressed a frown of frustration. Suzanne had managed to avoid agreeing to a date for weeks now, resisting him, making excuses, leaving town. Finally, he'd cornered her during one of their slightly breathless late night conversations and she'd admitted that she would be around and not busy Friday. Tonight.

  Sara buzzed him with a text. The sight of her name did its usual number on his emotions. Guilt, for having manhandled her so badly last fall. Anger at her stubbornness over the paternity test issue. And the sick puppy-like thrill he always got thinking of her. Giving himself a mental shake, he picked up the phone and read.

  "Hey, I need some help. Just few minutes. Trying to get the last of the kitchen packed up."

  "Where's Gordon?" He winced as he hit send realizing how that sounded. An email dinged into his inbox. Suzanne. His scalp tingled. Her go-slow approach, insisting they get to know each other as friends first before doing any more than the odd stolen kiss before cutting off physical contact – it was about to kill him. But he found himself anticipating the sound of her voice more than anything.

  "I don't know. You said you were around remember? Never mind."

  He sighed and hit "call" next to her name.

  "I'm sorry." He ran a hand through his hair. He'd been saying that a lot to her. It was starting to get old.

  "It's fine. Short notice and it's a beautiful Friday afternoon. Why would you stand around in my chaotic kitchen and help me pack?"

  "I can come by in the next hour. But I, um, I'm busy later." Why he couldn't just say, "I have a date. With a woman I think I love" to Sara? The woman he knew he had loved, once.

  "Oh? Suzanne?"

  He blew out a breath. "Yeah."

  "Okay. That's good. She's a nice person. Now that I know her as someone other than the woman who nearly killed my brother once upon a time."

  "Sara," he started, then stopped. Sara's relationship with the woman he had developed a serious crush on was not his responsibility. "So do you still need my help?"

  "No, I think I'll go for a walk instead. I'm getting stir crazy in here."

  He heard her sigh and guilt flooded his brain again. "Sorry."

  "Oh stop being sorry. I'm fine. Jesus. Seriously have fun tonight I mean it. I love the thought of you – happy. You deserve it."

  "Maybe." He stood, needing to end the conversation before he talked himself out of taking Suzanne out altogether. How he had managed to find someone new in the midst of all this crazy fucked up mess with Sara he couldn't imagine. But, the thought of Suzanne's thick auburn hair, cut short recently, like a pixie cap, perfect for her petite frame, emphasizing her huge brown eyes made a low buzz thrum through his brain. "Call me if you need me Sara. I mean it. I'm not trying to be distant. You just caught me..."

  She cut him off. "Trying to have a life. I'm sorry Craig. I'm such a selfish cow sometimes. I realize that believe me."

  "It's part of your mysterious and infinite charm I guess." He grabbed his Ray-Bans and helmet and headed out into the unseasonably warm afternoon. "Seriously, call me if you need anything and don't do stupid shit like, whatever it is pregnant ladies do to bring on early labor. You aren't on bed rest anymore I take it."

  She laughed and the sound warmed him, but in a way different than it used to. "No, I'm free to move about the cabin. Okay. Have fun and tell Suzanne I said hello."

  ****

  "So, what's your major?" Craig lifted his beer and clinked glasses with his date. She smiled – a slow moving, lovely thing that made his face get hot. Damn he wanted her. He hid his grin by taking a gulp of the beer she'd brought. He had made reservations at a nice restaurant, but she'd called and insisted on bringing dinner over herself. Had a new beer she wanted to try out on him. So he'd showered, cleaned up his long-neglected condo and tried to relax, playing his guitar a while, then a video game. He ended up in the bedroom, needing to relieve some of the pressure he'd been building up over the course of the last weeks. For a change, the face and lips he pictured on his at the last minute, sending him over the orgasmic edge, were not Sara's, but Suzanne's.

  When she opened the door, juggling a couple of growlers and a huge container of pasta, he'd laughed, given her a light kiss and they'd set up a picnic out on his balcony. His hands itched to touch her, but she had a big-time hands-off vibe today. He felt it. So decided to simply enjoy her conversation.

  "Chemistry, actually. I went to med school." Craig raised an eyebrow. "I'm full of surprises." She seemed a little distant so he let it go.

  "No doubt." He sipped more. "I bless this amazing IPA with my official approval by the way. But it's big, isn't it?"

  "Yeah, nearly ten percent." She put her glass down and stared at him. He looked over his shoulder, making her laugh. "What is this about anyway?"

  "Uh, beer. I think."

  "No, this." She made a little circling motion with her finger, encompassing them both. "Because I'm not sure I can…"

  "Hold on, right there." Craig held up a hand and leaned back in his chair, hoping to put her at ease. "You're the one who wanted
an intimate dinner at my place. I was gonna take you to Taco Bell or someplace equally romantic."

  "Huh, funny enough, I love Taco Bell, so there." She sighed. Craig decided silence was the better part of valor at that moment so he ate, and drank. And watched her. She stood after a few minutes, and stood next to him, her hand on his shoulder. He tried not to react, but lost the battle.

  "Craig," she whispered as he stood in one smooth motion and pulled her in, covered her mouth with his, parted her lips and tasted her, really took the measure of her and found her perfect.

  His phone buzzed. He ignored it as she pulled him back into his living room, onto the couch and started fumbling with his zipper. He yanked her shirt off, gazed at the petite perfection of her breasts before cupping one and taking a pert pink nipple between his lips. She groaned, arched into him, threading her fingers in his hair.

  "Yes," she whispered. "Please." His cock got even harder at the sound of her soft exhalations in his ear. He kissed her again, as he unzipped and eased her jeans down, cupped a hand over her bare mound.

  "I like your philosophy about underwear." He whispered, nibbling at her ear. "Sexy and yet, convenient."

  "Shut up and kiss me some more." He did, drowning in her, trying to hold back the urge to take, to make his mark on her. He'd never felt this way before, not even with Sara. Their whole sex life had been one long denial and argument, it seemed. But now, in his arms, was a woman wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  The damn phone…he groaned and tried to ignore it again. "Craig," she gasped as he felt her clit, a hard nub of delicious flesh that he suddenly needed to taste.

  "Hmm?" He licked his way down her neck, nipped at each nipple then moved lower as she squirmed and sighed.

  "You should answer that." He looked up from his southward journey. The smell of her lust swirled in his head, blinding him to anything and everything but Suzanne. She smelled of cinnamon somehow, or something else bright and spicy. He sighed and leaned across her to grab the infernal thing from the floor where it had slipped from his pocket.

  "Yeah?" He barked into it, groaning as Suzanne ran her bare foot over his lap.

  "Craig?" a familiar male voice filled his brain. Shit.

  "What's wrong? Where is she?"

  Jack spoke again. "U of M Emergency Room. Can you get there quicker than me? I'm with my sister and her kids but am leaving now."

  Craig was already standing, tugging his jeans back on. "What happened?'

  "Not sure. They called me first, I called you and I'll get Blake next. Sorry."

  "No, no," he sat, cradled Suzanne's face a moment with one hand. "On my way. Don't leave there until I call you. It may be nothing."

  "All right." He hung up and sighed.

  "Sara?" Suzanne's voice had an edge to it he didn't like.

  "Yeah."

  She sat up, found her shirt. "All right, want me come with you?"

  "No, it's okay. Stay here, why don't you? I hopefully won't be long. I'd like to pick up where we left off."

  Suzanne smiled, pulled him to his feet and laid a tongue tangling kiss on him. He moaned and held her close, trying to imprint himself on her. So she'd come back. But she slipped out of his arms, grabbed her purse and started for the door.

  "God damn it." He muttered, found his keys and followed her down to the parking garage. They didn't speak, or touch.

  "Someday," she said to him as she got into her car. "You'll see that it's Jack, not you." Craig frowned at her.

  "I already know that Suzanne. Trust me." He bit back anything really mean, fired up the bike and roared out onto the downtown street, his head and body buzzing with missed opportunity and bad timing. Story of his fucking life.

  Chapter Five

  Six Weeks Later

  Jack jumped out of the car in front of Sara's condo, gave a quick knock then opened the door. Floor-to-ceiling boxes and loud rock music assaulted his senses. He wandered into the kitchen, found her sitting at the table, staring into the middle distance. He snapped his fingers in front of her face. "Your feast, Madame." He dropped the bananas, chocolate ice cream and can of lemonade on the table. He'd been stopping by just about every night for the last couple of weeks, bringing her the snacks she craved which she could actually have – potato chips, jalapeños, and iced coffee being the forbidden ones.

  She glanced up at him, then down at the food. "Thanks." Her voice sounded thin. He put a hand on her shoulder.

  "You okay babe?"

  "Sure, just out of breath. You'd think I hadn't spent the last twenty years or so working out every single damn day. I'm like a rookie at a fat farm." She still had a bunch of silverware clutched in her hand. He reached down and pried them out of her grip, setting them in the nearest open box. She sighed and put her feet up in the chair.

  "No more climbing ladders. You promised." He admonished her, not kidding as he folded the stepladder up and put it away. "Not after last month's adventure."

  Sara put her head on her arms. "Yeah, I know. Poor Craig." Jack laughed. His friend Suzanne had ripped him a new one over that.

  "Can you keep your baby-mama out of my new boyfriend's life or what Gordon?" He still smiled at the concept – his firebrand friend and the calm, smooth Mr. Robinson.

  "She could be your boyfriend's baby-mama you know," he'd reminded her and had narrowly missed getting brained by a flying beer mug. As it was he'd helped her clean up the mess against the bar wall. Later they'd sat and gotten slowly drunk together, like old times, but now with an entirely new set of problems and complications.

  "I really, really like him," she'd slurred, leaning on his bicep at the bar. He'd kissed the top of her newly shorn hair.

  "And I'm sure he feels the same. He'd be insane not to. You deserve it, doll." And she did. She'd had a hell of a ride with that asshole of an ex-husband. Then, rushing in with Blake so quickly after that had nearly torn her apart, especially when she ended it. He'd made a mental note to talk to Craig, give him a bit of a heads up about what happened.

  Now, it seemed, he had Sara to himself once again. But for her damnable desire to keep him as "My Friend Jack." To distract himself he taped up a few boxes, labeled them then found a beer in her fridge. He leaned against the counter and gazed at her.

  "You look amazing." It had taken him a solid three months to work his way back into her life. The time and energy she spent aggressively ignoring him and Craig as her pregnancy progressed after that first horrifically shocking conversation was admirable. But they'd worn her down. Given the medical crises she kept having, she had no choice but to rely on them a little. By the time her parents had moved back to town and installed themselves firmly in her life, he nearly gave up. However, a late night call from her brother convinced him otherwise. A surprising ally to be sure, but Jack would take it. And then there were those Lamaze classes... He grinned at the sight of her, lush, full, and ripe. His balls positively ached from lack of use, but he'd made a vow to himself. One he planned to keep.

  She lifted her shirt, making him nearly breathless with a weird, possessiveness tinged with lust. "Really, then what is that?" She pointed to a dark line that had appeared beneath her navel running down to her…

  "Put your shirt down." He growled, turning away.

  "No seriously look at it." Sighing, he stuffed a few towels on top of the last box of kitchen stuff and turned to face her.

  "No, seriously, Sara. I can't. It makes me want to do things to you and you've already given me that ultimatum."

  She groaned and flopped into a chair, toying with the banana on the table. "I know. I'm sorry. It's just…"

  "I get it. I can be your friend. Can help keep you in lemonade and bananas, but that's it. Even if that is my kid in there."

  He closed the gap between them, touched her hair, cupped her chin. "I didn't want this." Her voice cracked. "I feel like such a selfish whiney bitch but this," she put a hand on the shelf of her nearly nine-month pregnant belly, "was not part of my plan."

&nbs
p; "Yeah, life. It has a way of fucking up plans. And you are a whiny bitch at times. But I'll forgive you."

  He pulled her up, unable to resist, needing to comfort, to reassure, anything to stop the pain that had settled in his chest when he realized she was completely serious about keeping him at arm's length. He held her, let her cry herself out against his neck, ruining yet another perfectly good shirt collar. Running his hands up and down her back, loving the hard press of the baby between them, he whispered, murmured and cajoled her out of her funk.

  "You know what?" He shut his eyes, sucking in deep breaths of her scent.

  "Hmm?" She mumbled as her arms crept around his waist.

  "I'd pay you right now for a kiss." She laughed, and stepped out of his embrace leaving him cold.

  "Why? Haven't you done enough already?" Her smart-ass tone only made him want her more.

  "Well hell Sara, according to you I'll never know that now will I?" He put her hand to his lips, pulled her slowly close again, sighing with contentment when their lips met. He held her close, or as close as her huge belly allowed. He took advantage of the moment to cup her incredibly full breast, run a hand over and around the ripe mound of her body. A sudden poke under his hand made him gasp and step back.

  "Yeah, welcome to my world Gordon." The moment gone, she flopped back in the chair. "You've had your grope. Now rub my feet."

  "Bossy and bitchy. Lovely my dear," but he welcomed any opportunity to have his hands on her skin. Dropping into the chair across from her he dug his knuckle into her instep, trying to ignore the hardening under his zipper at the sight of her sleek bare legs, and the way she leaned her head back and moaned. "Of course you realize this is the longest I've gone without sex in... ever." He cleared his throat, shifted in his seat and put her foot back on the floor.

  She glared at him, then her face softened. "Poor baby. Forgive me for not having more sympathy in my current condition."