And Babies Make Five

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And Babies Make Five Page 13

by Judy Duarte


  “I’m okay with going.” He placed the grocery sack on the counter. “My family is great. You’ll like them, and I’m sure they’ll like you.”

  Still, if he’d looked her in the eye when he’d said that, she’d have felt better. So she faced the truth head-on. “You seem a little hesitant, which is fine. Really.”

  He turned toward her, and their gazes locked. Something simmered in his warm, brown eyes, something heart-stirring and breath-catching.

  She couldn’t gauge the distance between them, since the intensity in his gaze seemed to connect them. Still, he stepped toward her, narrowing whatever gap there was.

  When they were just a whisper apart, he lifted his hands and cupped her jaw. His thumbs brushed against her cheek. “It’s just that you’ll be on display, Sam. Every single one of them is going to think that we’re an item, and that your babies are probably mine.”

  And that was a bad thing?

  He must have sensed her confusion, her worry, because he brushed a kiss on her brow, then dropped his hands and returned to what he’d been doing. With his back to her again, he reached into the sack and pulled out the meat.

  His kiss stunned her. She could have joined him at the counter, but for some reason, her feet didn’t move. Her hand did, and she trailed her fingers along her cheek, on the spot that still tingled from his touch.

  Had they become an “item”?

  She’d be darned if she knew.

  So how in the world could she blame his family for wondering?

  Hector had gotten a late start on grilling the meat, thanks to one interruption after another.

  While the steaks marinated, he’d taken a shower and slipped into some comfortable clothing—cargo shorts and a T-shirt. He’d returned to the kitchen, only to find that Samantha had made herself scarce. Or maybe it had just seemed that way, since he kissed her. Not that the kind of kiss you’d give an elderly aunt or a toddler counted. But it had come from the heart—sweet and unexpected—so he wasn’t sorry.

  At six o’clock, he’d gone outside to heat the barbecue and to set the table. But he’d gotten a phone call from one of the newer attorneys at the firm about a wrongful-death suit that could prove to be a big one—and high-profile. So he’d gone into the den, where he could speak privately.

  The attorney wanted his advice, and after getting the details and sharing his initial thoughts, Hector had called another one of the partners for a second opinion. By the time they’d all settled on a solid game plan, it was nearly dark when he’d started to grill the meat.

  Now he and Samantha sat at a candlelit table, their plates full. His wine goblet was filled with cabernet sauvignon, and hers with milk.

  The moon was new, and the stars were sparkling bright in the night sky. Indoors, the stereo played soft music, a perfect touch to the evening meal.

  “I’m sorry I took so long on that phone call,” he said.

  “That’s okay. I kept the potatoes warm.”

  As they ate in silence, Hector couldn’t help thinking that the last few meals he’d shared with Samantha had been some of the nicest he’d had in years, and not just because of the taste of the food.

  Maybe it was because of the company, he thought as he glanced across the table at his pretty dining companion.

  She was wearing a pale blue sundress that did the most amazing thing to the color of her eyes, especially in the candlelight. Her hair was curled along her shoulders, and he wondered if she’d fixed it just for him.

  Whether she had or not, Hector couldn’t keep his eyes off her.

  “It’s a beautiful night,” she said, glancing at the sky. “The temperature is perfect. Can you believe that we had such a cold and rainy evening last week?”

  No, he couldn’t. But he found it even more difficult to believe that he’d actually taken off early today—something he rarely did—just because he’d wanted to come home to Samantha.

  Not willing to make an admission like that, he said, “The weather can be a little unpredictable at this time of year.” And that was true. But then again, ever since Samantha had moved back to Primrose Lane, he’d found a lot of things hard to second-guess. Like his growing attraction to his pregnant neighbor.

  In the background, Eric Clapton sang a love song, and Hector couldn’t help thinking that the words were perfect. Because Samantha certainly looked wonderful tonight.

  But it was more than her appearance that drew him to her, and he had a feeling that he could easily fall in love with her—if he’d let himself.

  They continued to eat in silence, and when they’d finished, Hector reached for the wine bottle and poured a second glass for himself. Moments later, Samantha stood and began to gather her place setting.

  “I’ll get that later,” he said. “Why don’t you sit out here with me for a while. It’s such a nice night.”

  “I thought I’d get another glass of milk, so it seemed like a good idea to carry in the plates while I was at it.”

  “Then let me help.”

  They cleared the table, then took the dirty dishes to the kitchen. Hector waited while Samantha filled her goblet with milk, then they walked outside together.

  “I can’t believe how clear and bright everything is tonight.” Samantha arched her neck and scanned the sky. “Look at the moon. It’s so full. And the stars are so twinkly.”

  Hector glanced up, but he was more interested in watching Samantha—and thank God that he was.

  While looking at the sky instead of her path, she stumbled, dumping half the milk from her glass and nearly taking a tumble.

  He grabbed her and held her close. “Are you all right?” He sure hoped so. What would happen if she tripped and fell in her condition?

  “I’m okay,” she replied, looking down at her feet, then at his grip on her arm. “But that was a close one.”

  As her face lifted and her eyes met his, something—the summer sky, the evening breeze, the attraction that had been sparking over them since she’d moved back into the neighborhood—surged between them.

  Hector had ignored the stirrings for as long as he could, but he was only human. With his heart racing, his pulse thundering, his hormones rushing through his veins, he tilted her chin and lifted her lips to his.

  The kiss was soft, tentative, like that of two teenage lovers experimenting with love and passion for the very first time. But as she leaned into him, as her lips parted, inviting him to take the lead, he was lost.

  Their breaths mingled, their hearts pounded and their tongues dipped and tasted until the tender kiss exploded with heat.

  As Hector drew her closer, glass shattered on the concrete, and he realized the goblet had slipped from her hands.

  “Oh, no,” she said as she broke the kiss. “I’m sorry about that.”

  About the broken glass? Or about the kiss?

  He wanted to tell her to hell with the goblet. He’d rather lower his mouth to hers again and forget the broken glass. But he figured it was better to get his mind grounded in reality, rather than…whatever they were doing.

  “It’s no big deal,” he said. “Don’t worry about it, Sam.”

  He carefully maneuvered her a couple of steps away from the mess, yet he didn’t release her. Instead, he placed his forehead against hers and continued to hold her close, breathing in her floral scent. “So, where do we go from here?”

  “I have no idea.” She slowly drew away from his embrace and rested one hand on the mound of her belly, reminding him that she wasn’t the kind of woman a man could kiss on a whim.

  There was too much waiting in the wings. But he shook it all off—the heated kiss that had knocked him senseless, as well as the fact that their relationship had just kicked up a notch on the intimacy scale—just as he’d tried to shake off the mess on the ground.

  “I’ll clean this up,” he said, “why don’t you pour yourself another glass?”

  “Actually,” she said. “I think I’ve had enough for tonight.”

&nb
sp; Enough of what? Kissing him? He wasn’t sure he wanted an answer to that, but he said, “It was just a kiss.”

  “I know. But it packed a powerful punch.”

  It certainly had. “So what do you want to do about it?”

  “Nothing. Something. I don’t know.”

  Well, that made two of them. He nodded toward the table where the candle still flickered, where his wine waited. “Have a seat. We can talk more about it when I get back. I’ll just be a minute.”

  “You know, I think I’d rather help you pick up this mess and do the dishes so I can turn in for the night.”

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “I’m fine.” She offered him a smile he found impossible to read. “Really.”

  But something told him neither of them would be “fine” again.

  Chapter Ten

  Hector’s kiss had not only swept Samantha off her feet, but her reaction to it had knocked her for a loop.

  The gentle assault of his lips had escalated from sweet and tender to heated and demanding, which had weakened her knees. Within heartbeats, she’d been filled with an overwhelming need for more.

  He’d said it was just a kiss, and maybe he was right. But by the time she’d turned in for the night and had climbed into bed, she’d realized that it had been much more than that to her.

  She’d lain awake for the longest time, trying to sort through her thoughts and feelings. Eventually, she’d dozed off, but she was up again just after dawn.

  Realizing she’d better call it a night, she climbed out of bed and headed for the shower.

  Now, as a spray of warm water poured over her head, she reached for the bottle of shampoo, squirted a dab into her hand and lathered her hair. But rather than gaining some clarity, her thoughts again drifted to the questions that plagued her.

  What would have happened if she’d moved back to Primrose Lane before visiting the Armstrong Fertility Institute, before the in vitro? Would she have gone ahead with the pregnancy plan? Or would she and Hector have…?

  There it went again, the start of another replay of all the what-ifs that had crossed her mind last night.

  She rinsed the shampoo from her hair, climbed from the shower and grabbed a towel. She paused long enough to run her hand along her swollen belly. Each day, it seemed, the babies were growing bigger, making her baby bump more pronounced. And she realized this wasn’t about Hector and it wasn’t about her. The babies were her top priority.

  Don’t worry, she silently whispered to her little ones. It’s the hormones, that’s all. I love you all very much, and I’m thrilled to have you.

  She dried off, then began to slip into her underwear and the new sundress she’d purchased yesterday.

  It was only a kiss, Hector had said, downplaying it all. But that had been some kiss.

  And he was some man.

  And she was…

  Sudden awareness swept over her, and she realized that she was falling for him. And where did that leave her?

  She blew out a sigh. But worse than that, where would she be if her feelings were only one-sided? What if Hector had been brutally honest when he’d said that the kiss they’d shared hadn’t been anything out of the ordinary?

  As she ran a brush through her wet hair, she told herself to get a grip on the crush she had on Hector.

  Maybe she should have told him that she was carrying Peter’s children last night. That certainly would have put a damper on her fantasies. But for some reason—the moon, the stars, the heart-spinning smiles of the handsome man seated across from her—she hadn’t wanted to ruin the magic.

  Nevertheless, she was going to have to tell him—and soon. Maybe even over breakfast.

  As she reached for the blow-dryer and plugged it in, she realized that telling him wasn’t going to be easy.

  How did she slip the news into the conversation? Oh, funny you should mention the babies, Hector. Did I tell you that they’re Peter’s children?

  Would he back off? Be less likely to want to be a part of her life, the triplets’ lives? Would he wonder why she hadn’t told him right from the get-go?

  She blew out a sigh, then styled her hair and applied a bit of lipstick.

  When she entered the kitchen, Hector had just put a glass into the sink and appeared to be getting ready to leave.

  “Aren’t you going to eat?” she asked.

  “I’ll pick up a muffin or something later. I’ve got an early morning appointment.” He scanned the length of her, then smiled. “Pretty dress.”

  “Thank you. Nice tie.”

  Silence crept between them until Hector broke it by asking, “How did you sleep?”

  “Good,” she lied. “How about you?”

  “It took a while for me to finally doze off.” He hesitated. “I worried about you, about how you were dealing with that kiss.”

  The fact that he’d worried about her, that he hadn’t slept well, either, touched her. But she suspected that meant the kiss hadn’t shaken him to the core, as it had her.

  “I’m doing okay,” she told him. “The kiss was nice. Maybe too nice. It left me a little unbalanced, though. It’s been a long time since I was kissed like that, and I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed it.”

  Hector sobered, and the corner of his left eye twitched—or maybe she’d just imagined it.

  “I hadn’t meant to remind you of Peter,” he said.

  “You didn’t.” Her late husband had been the last thing on her mind when they’d kissed. She could admit that much. Couldn’t she? “For the record, I wasn’t thinking about Peter last night.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” His expression lightened.

  “I admit that I’m a little ruffled by whatever’s going on between us, but it’s only because of the babies. I realize that getting romantically involved with me would be a big step for you. And having triplets is going to make a huge change in my life, one I can hardly imagine. So there’s a lot to ponder and a good reason to take things slowly. Or even to not take them at all. I’m okay with that, too.”

  But she wouldn’t be okay, she realized. And she wondered if it might be better, safer, for her to put some distance between them.

  “I feel the same way, Sam.” There was the nickname again, indicating that their relationship had already taken an intimate turn, that they might never be the same two people again when this was all said and done. “Why don’t we take one day at a time and see what happens?”

  In that case, maybe being in close contact wasn’t so bad after all.

  Relief breezed through her, and she offered him a smile. “That sounds like a good game plan to me.”

  He reached for his sports jacket, which hung on the back of one of the kitchen chairs, and slipped it on. “So, what do you have planned today?”

  More relief. She appreciated him changing the subject and switching the focus of the conversation. She answered by saying, “The wallpaper hanger is coming this morning, so I’m eager to see what the nursery looks like when he’s done.”

  “You’d shouldn’t go inside yet.”

  “I won’t. But I’m going to talk to the painter and ask when he’ll be finished.”

  “I imagine you’re eager to move back into the house and get settled.”

  Actually? She was eager to set up the nursery and to finish nesting, but she wasn’t looking forward to being alone again, to being sequestered in silence. She’d had enough of that in the last six months.

  “I really appreciate you letting me stay here,” she said. “It’s been fun.”

  “I’m not in any hurry to see you leave. You really should let that house air out before you go back in there.”

  “Are you sure I’m not putting you out by staying here?”

  “Not at all.” He straightened the knot of his tie. “I haven’t eaten this good since I lived at home with my parents.”

  She took that as a sincere compliment and couldn’t hold back a broad smile.

  Th
en, for some crazy reason, she moved forward, crossing the room to stand before him. Without saying a word, she reached for the knot of his tie, adjusting it even though it wasn’t the least bit crooked. Then she brushed her hands across the front shoulders of his jacket, as though fixing something that was amiss.

  It wasn’t, though; he’d looked sharp already. She’d just wanted a chance to touch him before he left.

  And to give him an opportunity to kiss her again.

  When he tilted her chin with the crook of his finger, her lips parted, ready, waiting. And as he kissed her sweetly, deeply, she nearly melted into a puddle on the floor.

  Earlier she’d told herself that she might be falling in love with Hector. But with each yearning beat of her heart, she realized there wasn’t any doubt.

  An hour after Hector left, Samantha checked in with the painter and the wallpaper hanger. Both men assured her that their work would be finished by the end of the day.

  She returned to Hector’s house, happy that everything was coming together nicely. Of course, there was still a lot to do, a lot to buy. But before she could focus on the nursery, she had to tell the Keatings they were going to be grandparents.

  It would only take one look at her for them to see that she was pregnant, and while she didn’t mind surprising them with the news, she couldn’t hold off on telling them any longer.

  She’d been invited to have dinner with them next Sunday, but she still wasn’t sure if it would just be the three of them. And if not, it would be cruel to spring it upon them in that way.

  So instead of waiting until Sunday and arriving early, she gave Marian a call to see if she could stop by their house sometime today. It seemed to be a safer plan, all things considered.

  “Of course, you can,” Marian said. “But you’re still planning to come over for dinner next Sunday, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Good. We’ve included the Hansons, too. They’re practically family. You remember Don and Gloria, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I do.” The Hansons were probably the Keatings’ closest friends, but Samantha didn’t want to reveal her secret in a group setting. “There’s something I need to discuss with you and Randall privately, so that’s why I want to stop by this morning.”

 

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