His laugh was a low rumble, and his arms came around her and drew her hard against him. “Why not let me be the judge of that?” he murmured an instant before his lips came down on hers.
Morgan felt the instant sweet pleasure of arousal as his arms drew her closer, so that her breasts pressed against him and her hips touched his thighs. He kissed her gently, an inquiring kiss, until at last she opened her mouth, allowing him to explore with his tongue, and the deepening intimacy sent a quiver of longing through her.
Heat pooled in her abdomen, and she forgot about caution. She stood on tiptoe and looped her arms around his neck, pressing herself even closer against the male hardness of his body.
She was at a disadvantage, because she was so much shorter than he, but an impatient groan rose from his throat and he lifted her feet off the ground, angling their bodies so that she was achingly aware of his erection and helpless in his embrace.
She’d been celibate for so long. Every suppressed impulse rose to the surface, and she drank in his kisses like nectar, undulating her hips against him.
The sound of a car door slamming penetrated the delicious fog of pleasure that surrounded them, and Luke set her on her feet, his arm protectively around her.
A patrol car had pulled up beside Luke’s vehicle.
“Evenin’, folks.” A uniformed policeman trotted down the stairs and moved into the pool of light where they stood under the streetlamp. He was young, and he gave them a knowing but apologetic grin. “Sorry to interrupt, but your car’s sitting up there with the keys in it and the doors are unlocked. We’ve had problems with car theft in this area, so it’s best not to extend an open invitation like that”
“Thanks, Officer.” Luke’s voice was ragged and he cleared his throat “We’ll be on our way.” The policeman hurried back up the stairs, whistling as he went, and climbed into his car.
Luke grasped Morgan’s hand and led the way up the stairs. Back in the car, he didn’t start the motor at once. Instead, he expelled a long, shaky breath and lifted her fingers to his lips, caressing each of her chapped knuckles with his mouth.
“I want you in my bed, Morgan. I intend to have you there unless you have better objections than the ones you raised a while ago.”
She tried to remember what they’d been, but for the life of her, she couldn’t recall. The only thing she knew with any certainty was that she wanted exactly what he wanted, the sooner the better. But imagining being in bed with Luke caused her practical mind to immediately come up with a whole new set of problems.
“I don’t see how we can manage that,” she blurted. “We can’t very well go to my house, Tessa’s there. And you’ve got Sophie, as well as your housekeeper, at yours. And going to a motel isn’t something I care to do.”
He gave her a dumbfounded look that made her realize he hadn’t considered the actual mechanics of the thing at all, and then he rhymed off a string of obscenities. Morgan found it impressive that foul language could sound so cultured.
“You’re right. Bloody hell! Well, leave it with me. I’ll come up with something.” He turned on the ignition and the car roared to life, and in the midst of her disappointment Morgan told herself that having nowhere to go to make love right this moment might be a good thing.
Their lives were complicated enough already, and going to bed together wasn’t going to make things any easier for either of them. This delay would give them both time to cool off and figure out whether or not being together was a good idea, she told herself, trying to be adult and reasonable and patient.
Reasonable, patient, phooey! Morgan leaned her head against the leather seat and blinked hard. She felt a lot like crying.
Wouldn’t you know just when she was ready to throw caution to the winds and leap into bed with a drop-dead handsome man, there wasn’t a bed available?
Chapter Ten
The first meeting of Connections, the support group for teenagers dealing with issues centered around pregnancy and parenting, ended at eight-fifteen on Monday evening, and Sophie was the first to bolt out of the stuffy room. She hurried down the hallway of the community center, heading for fresh air and freedom.
“Sophie! Hey, Sophie Gilbert. Wait up.”
Surprised and wary, Sophie paused as one of the girls from the group trotted up the hall and stopped beside her.
There’d been seven females trapped back there for an hour and a half, three like Sophie, pregnant but not showing too much yet, one who looked about to pop, an older girl who’d given her baby up for adoption and wanted it back. And there was that social work type, of course. Frannie What’s-Her-Name, who’d organized this whole dumb thing and kept asking questions like “How do you feel about that?” and “Do you care to share your experiences with the others?”
It was depressing and totally gross, Sophie decided. And then there was this girl with her purple hair and the rings in her nose and ears. Tessa something or other.
“Hey,” the girl continued, “your dad’s Doc Gilbert, right? I know him, he works with my foster mom, Morgan Jacobsen. My name’s Tessa Hargraves in case you didn’t catch it in the meeting.”
Sophie gave her another sidelong glance, wondering what this bone rack of a girl with her fluorescent spiky hair and black leather biker jacket wanted with her. She’d told them at the meeting that she’d had a baby a month ago, but it died.
Sophie had pretty much managed to block the others out, but she’d felt sorry about Tessa’s baby, because she knew all about death, how awful it hurt inside when someone you loved died. “Yeah, I remember you. I’m real sorry about your baby,” she muttered now.
“Yeah, thanks.” Tessa’s voice lost its vivacity.
“My mother died,” Sophie blurted out. “Four years ago. In a car accident.” She hadn’t planned to say that. The words had just popped out for some reason.
“Oh, yeah? I never had a real mom,” Tessa volunteered. “At least not one I remember, but it must be hard, having one and then losing her like that. Were you, like, close to her?”
"Yeah. Real close. We used to do stuff together, shopping and manicures and stuff.” Sophie’s throat closed and she gulped, blinking back tears. This was too weird, having somebody she barely knew talk to her like this. The kids in Victoria whom she’d considered her best friends had avoided her after her mom died. It was as if death were like AIDS or something they were scared to catch. When her father’d moved them to Vancouver and she changed schools, she’d been real careful not to bring up anything about her mother dying. The only people she’d talked about it with were Jason and his family.
“Having somebody die on you really sucks,” she added with vehemence.
Tessa nodded, her face somber. “Yeah. It’s like it leaves an empty hole inside ya.” They were standing outside now. It was wet and rainy, and Tessa shivered. “It’s freezin’ out here. You wanna hot chocolate or something, Sophie? There’s a fast food place just a coupla blocks away.”
“Yeah, that sounds good.” Sophie hadn’t really hung out with anybody since her breakup with Jason. Her best girlfriend, Tiffany, had dropped Sophie fast when she’d confided that she was pregnant. Pregnancy and death had a lot in common, Sophie figured. People didn’t know what to say or how to act in either situation.
They exchanged information as they hurried along the sidewalk, about the special classes for pregnant teens, the teachers they loved or hated. Inside the restaurant, they ordered and slid into a booth.
“So, when’s your baby coming?” Tessa found a tiny mirror in her shoulder bag and carefully checked her makeup, using a tissue to wipe away mascara that had smeared.
“March twenty-third.” Sophie watched as the other girl extracted a purple lip pencil from her bag and applied it to her full mouth.
“Is it movin’ around yet?”
Sophie shrugged. “I dunno. How do you tell?”
“Oh, you’ll know when it starts. At first it’s sorta, like, these little butterfly wings, and then after a
while you can feel feet just bootin’ you from the inside.”
Tessa’s eyes suddenly filled with tears and overflowed, and she dabbed at them with the sleeve of her shirt trying not to smear her mascara again. “Shit. Sorry, it’s just that I get thinkin’ about Kyla. She shoulda only been gettin’ born next month. I wake up in the morning sometimes and for a minute I think she’s still inside me.”
She scrabbled in her handbag and pulled outa package of cigarettes. “I was off these things when I was pregnant. I gotta try to quit again.” Her hand shook as she took one out and lit it.
Sophie saw how much Tessa was hurting and she wanted to help, but she wasn’t sure how. She only knew for sure that it was better to talk about the person who’d died than ignore the grief. “That was her name, Kyla? That’s so pretty. I really like that. I haven’t thought of names yet.” The truth was, she hadn’t really thought of the baby much at all, not as a live human being with a face and a name. The anger and sense of injustice she’d fortified herself with for so long slipped a little, and fear crept up her spine.
“D’you mind if I ask you some stuff, Tessa? About, umm, having babies and that kinda thing?” She’d wanted to ask in the meeting tonight, but she’d felt like such a dork.
“Nope. Go ahead.”
“Does it, like, really hurt when...it gets born?”
Tessa looked her straight in the eye and nodded. “Yeah, it does. At least, it did for me.”
Her face tightened and her hazel eyes took on a faraway look. “But I had an accident, see, and it was all happenin’ too soon and real fast, so they couldn’t give me anything, right? Morgan says usually they do this thing called an epidural if it’s hurtin’ real bad, and that makes it easier. But I couldn’t have one.”
Sophie thought that over for a few minutes, and they sipped their chocolate in. silence. “So you can talk to Morgan, huh? Ask her questions and stuff?”
Tessa raised her plucked eyebrows and spread her hands. “Hey, like of course I can talk to her. She’s my friend, right? I mean, she’s my foster mom, technically, but she’s a baby doctor, so she knows all the right answers.” Tessa tipped her head to the side and gave Sophie a curious look. “But so’s your dad, right? He helped when Kyla was born.”
Sophie nodded, lowering her head so her hair partly obscured her face. “Yeah. But I wouldn’t ask him anything.” Her voice dripped with disdain.
“So, like, he’s totally freaked about you being pregnant, right?”
Sophie’s head shot up and she glared at Tessa. “Did this Morgan tell you that?” Was her father discussing her with everyone? If so, it was one more betrayal to add to the list, and the ache in her chest that had eased a little during the past half hour came back again with a vengeance.
“Hey, don’t go ballistic on me. I guessed by the way your voice goes when you talk about him.”
“Oh. Yeah. Sorry.” Embarrassed, Sophie let her shoulders slump and she toyed with her empty cup, tearing off pieces of foam and crumpling them.
“So, what’s the score with the genetic donor? He on the scene or did he split?”
“The...the who?” Sophie was still thinking of her father.
“You know, the boyfriend. Your main squeeze. The kid’s father.”
“Oh. Jason.” It even to hurt say his name. “When my dad found out about the baby, he had this huge fight with Jason and his dad, and I haven’t seen Jason since.” Sophie glanced at Tessa. “How about you?”
“His name’s Dylan.” Tessa shook her head and avoided Sophie’s gaze, tapping her cigarette into an ashtray. “Things didn’t work out, so I broke up with him.” She took a long drink of her chocolate.
“You still miss him?” Sophie cried every single night, longing for Jason.
Tessa shrugged. “I’m, like, real pissed off at him, but I miss him, too, ya know?” She shot a hopeless glance at Sophie and shrugged expressively. “Go figure, huh?”
“Yeah. It’s the same with me.” The hurt she’d never admitted even to herself spilled out now. “He could call me, I’ve got a cell and it’s not as if there’re telephone police. Or he could meet me somewhere.” It was such a relief, being able to share a little of how she really felt with somebody who understood.
“Guys freak when you get knocked up, I guess.” Tessa glanced at her watch. “Yikes. I’ve gotta go. I told Morgan I’d walk the dogs for her ’cause she’s on call tonight.” She stood up and grabbed her leather jacket, shoving her arms into the sleeves.
“You’ve got dogs?” Sophie was envious.
“Yeah, two. Skippy and Major. And a kitten called Flower. Morgan can’t resist strays, so we agreed she’s not allowed to go near the pound anymore. She picks the ones nobody else’ll take, Skippy’s deaf and sorta neurotic, he’s kinda my dog. Major’s older and crippled, and the cat’s only got one eye.”
“I wish we had a dog. We couldn’t because my mom was allergic.”
“Well, you’ll just hafta c’mon over and meet ours.” Tessa hesitated, suddenly shy. “Hey, I’m learning to cook. You wanna come for supper one night this week? How about tomorrow? I’ve gotta go out Wednesday. I’m helping build a set for the Christmas play at the church.”
“You sure that’s okay? Morgan won’t mind or anything?”
Sophie pictured Eileen and the major crisis that would result if she’d asked somebody home for dinner on such short notice.
Tessa shook her head. “She won’t care. She’s not like that.”
Sophie thought of her father and his strict rules, and her face fell. “I’ll have to ask my dad first, though. He’s grounded me for the rest of my natural life.”
“I bet he won’t mind. He knows us. He’s been over to the house a coupla times. Him and Morgan actually went out on a date last Friday, did ya know that?” She rolled her eyes and giggled. “He was so cute, your dad. He brought flowers and chocolates, like in one of those old movies.” She scribbled on a paper napkin, missing Sophie’s shocked reaction to her casual revelation. “Here’s my number. Call, okay?”
Her father had gone out on a date with this Morgan?
Sophie watched Tessa hurry off and then slowly got to her feet and put on her coat. A tumult of emotions boiled inside her. She felt more left out and alone than ever, betrayed and hurt by the news that her father had taken somebody out and she hadn’t even known.
Of course she knew he was really good-looking, she’d seen lots of women coming onto him. And she understood about sex and people’s needs. Mummy had been gone four years now and her dad wasn’t a monk, after all. So what did she expect?
She expected him to understand about Jason. She expected him to pay some attention to her instead of being gone all the time. She expected him to mention it if he was dating somebody.
Fighting back tears, she walked slowly to the bus stop. It was getting late and she was tired, but more than ever before she hated going home. The house would be empty: Eileen had computer class and her father had said he had a meeting, but now Sophie wondered if he was actually somewhere with this Morgan.
Life was such a mess. She wasn’t allowed to see Jason, but her dad could spend time with somebody if he wanted. Was that fair? And that somebody had to be Tessa’s foster mom, of all people. Just when she thought she’d made a friend, her dad had to mess everything up, as usual.
The bus came and she got on, thinking of Tessa.
Eileen would totally freak when she laid eyes on her, what with the purple hair and the rings and the makeup, which was reason enough to be friends with her even if Sophie didn’t really like her. Which she did. Really.
Most of all, though, she wanted to meet Morgan. She had a right to know who her own father was dating, didn’t she?
Normally Morgan flopped onto any horizontal surface and slept until she was awakened by either an alarm or a telephone, a legacy from her days as an intern. But ever since her date with Luke, she hadn’t been sleeping well.
She’d spent part of Saturday and Sun
day nights drifting in a sensual fog, recalling every kiss, every caress, every sensation her body had registered, and Monday night followed the same pattern. Instead of the dose of cold reality she’d expected to occur once she was away from Luke’s seductive presence, she found herself regretting that circumstance hadn’t allowed matters to take their natural course.
After all, she was thirty-six years old, she told herself as a chilly dawn finally broke outside her bedroom window. She was enough of a realist to know that an affair with Luke wasn’t about to end with a wedding. So what harm could it do to allow her sensuality an opportunity to flower?
She got up and showered, pleased with the way the new haircut fell into place with the touch of a brush, and she decided to put on one of the outfits Tessa had insisted they buy on their shopping trip, black leggings with a long black turtleneck tunic. Tessa said it was just the thing to wear under a lab coat, and she’d made Morgan buy half a dozen variations of it. Morgan laced up the soft leather ankle boots she’d fallen in love with and looked at herself in the mirror.
Wow! Was this really her? She liked the effect, but she didn’t look like the Morgan she was used to, that was for sure. The outfit was as comfortable as her old cords, but she looked like one of those polished women who actually coordinated their wardrobe.
Downstairs, Tessa admired her from every angle, extravagantly pleased with the look she’d orchestrated.
“How’d your meeting go last night?” Morgan stuck bread in the toaster, delighted that Tessa seemed so happy.
“Not bad. There weren’t as many people there as Frannie hoped, though. You know you told me to watch for Doc Gilbert’s daughter?”
Morgan had told Tessa in strictest confidence about Sophie. “She was at the meeting? That’s great”
“Yeah. I got talking to her. She’s really cute. I asked her over for supper tonight if that’s okay. I’ll come home right after school and make that noodle stuff you showed me and some cookies. You don’t mind, eh?”
The Baby Doctor Page 10
