by Ginna Gray
Tess was sure that Ryan's brother meant to pursue her friend. She also had a strong hunch that Reilly would not be as easily discouraged or manipulated as Amanda's other admirers. One thing was certain; whether it was war or romance, whatever developed between those two would not be dull. Tess found that she was looking forward to witnessing the next meeting between them.
Amanda visited Tess frequently—more so than usual, now that Tess was in her last trimester—and Reilly was in and out of his brother's apartment all the time. They were certain to run into each other again soon, Tess was sure.
❧
The next day, however, Amanda called to tell her that she was being sent overseas to cover a fast-breaking story in one of the world's hot spots. She was leaving within the hour.
"Oh, Tess, I'm so excited. This could be my big break. I'm sick to death of covering local holdups and fires and political rallies. I've just been waiting for something like this so I could show the bigwigs what I can do. And who knows, if I can get a really fresh angle on the story or ferret out an exclusive of some kind it might even lead to a network job."
"I'm happy for you, Amanda." Tess bit her lip, hoping that Amanda had not heard the catch in her voice.
Ever since they were children, Amanda had been driven by the need to prove herself, to succeed, to be the best at whatever she did. Beneath that sophisticated nonchalance was a burning ambition to make it to the top.
Amanda was very dear to Tess, and she wanted her to be happy, but the thought of her taking a network job in New York or Washington filled Tess with dread. So did the possibility of Amanda getting hurt.
"You will be careful, won't you? Things are horribly unstable where you're going. Promise me you won't take any unnecessary chances."
"Honey, taking chances comes with the territory. But I can handle myself. You know that. I'll be fine. So don't you fret about me. You hear? It's not good for junior."
"I won't," Tess lied, but Amanda must have heard the forlorn note in her voice, for she immediately sobered.
"Tess, honey, I'm really sorry about running out on you like this. But I'm sure this assignment won't last long. ^ Three... four days tops. Don't worry. I'll be back in plenty of time for Lamaze class next Thursday night."
Three days passed with no word. Then four. By Wednesday Tess was almost frantic. Then that evening she received an overseas call.
"Tess, it's me," Amanda hollered over the static. "I'm sorry I didn't make it back, but things are really popping over here."
"Never mind me. Are you all right?"
"I'm fine. Great!" Even over the crackle and pop on the line and the disturbing shouts in the background, Tess could hear the excitement in Amanda's voice. "Look, Tess, I've gotta run," Amanda shouted over the worsening static. "I'll be back.. .few days if all goes well. Should th...ituation get wor... be a week ... more. If that hap... I'll ca—"
The line went dead. Tess replaced the receiver with a heavy sigh and closed her eyes. Thank God, Amanda was all right.
She collapsed on the sofa, her relief so great it was some time before it occurred to her that she was now without a Lamaze coach.
She worried over the problem for a while before finally accepting that there was only one thing to do. The instructor had stressed the importance of attending class during these last months. Tess had no family and no other friend with whom she felt comfortable enough to ask them to take over as her coach. She would just have to go alone.
❧
The next evening Tess trudged down the stairs with her pillow tucked under her arm, but when she tried to start her car the engine made a sick ump ump wnp sound. The second time she turned the key all she heard was a click.
"Oh, no. What now?" Muttering under her breath, Tess popped the hood and struggled out of the car.
With the hood raised all the way, she leaned over as far as she could and peered at the jumble of greasy auto parts, though she had no idea why or what she expected to see. It merely seemed like the correct action to take under the circumstances.
Another vehicle pulled into the parking slot beside her and immediately car doors slammed.
"What the devil is wrong now?" a familiar voice barked as Tess straightened.
She sighed, and closed her eyes. Why? Why did it have to be him?
"I ... I don't know." She turned in time to see Ryan and Mike converging on her and the car. "It just won't start."
Sidling up to her, Mike murmured a greeting and gave her an encouraging smile.
Ryan ordered her to tell him exactly what she had done and what had happened. When she did, he muttered something under his breath, climbed inside the car and turned the key in the ignition. The result was another sickening click. Grim-faced, he stomped to the front and checked the engine.
"Just as I thought," he grumbled, retracting his brawny torso from beneath the hood. He snatched a rag out of the back of his Cherokee and started wiping the grease from his hands, his eyes boring into her. "Your battery is deader than a doorknob. When was the last time you replaced it?"
"I, uh...I don't know. My... That is. .."
"Let me guess. Your husband took care of those kinds of things. Right?"
Tess caught her lower lip between her teeth and nodded.
"Great. Just great. Of all the irresponsible, stupid—"
"Aw, c'mon. Dad." Mike's anxious gaze skittered back and forth between his father and Tess. "If you don't knock it off you're gonna make her cry again."
Ryan clamped his jaws shut, biting off the rest of the tirade, but his taut face and aggressive stance radiated disapproval. He slammed the hood and tossed the greasy rag into the back of his vehicle, then faced her with his fists planted on his hipbones. "Were you going anywhere important?"
"Uh... yes. I was on my way to Lamaze class."
Ryan glanced around, frowning. "Don't you need a partner for that? Where's your friend? I thought she was supposed to be coaching you."
"Yes, but she's out of town." Quickly, Tess explained about Amanda's assignment. "Even so, the classes are too important for me to miss, especially now. I'll just have to make the best of it on my own."
"Say, Dad. I've got a great idea!" Mike piped up. He beamed at them, his young face alive with excitement. "Why don't you take Tess to class and be her coach?"
Chapter 4
'"What!"
"Oh, no!"
Ryan and Tess blurted out the protests in unison, their faces wearing identical appalled expressions.
"Mike... I... I appreciate your concern," Tess stammered. "Really, I do. But I can't ask your father to do that. Coaching someone in Lamaze is... well... a very, uh... a very personal thing. Your father barely knows me."
"But he'd be good at it," Mike replied, not one whit discouraged. "Dad loves kids. Don'tcha, Dad?" He looked at his father, his face alive with eagerness.
"Well.. .yeah. Sure I do. But-"
"Mike, for heaven's sake. Your father doesn't even li— "
Breaking off, Tess slanted a chagrined glance Ryan's way, and he realized that she had been about to say that he didn't like her. He frowned.
"That is...he doesn't really have time to be my coach. And anyway, Til just be alone this one time. I m sure Amanda will be back before next week's class."
"Then it'll work out great. Dad doesn't have anything special to do tonight. Do you, Dad?"
"No. Not really."
He had no idea why he had admitted even that much. Except that he wasn't comfortable with the idea of her thinking he disliked her. It wasn't true. Well... not precisely. He was down on women in general but it had nothing to do with her personally.
Tess's gaze flew to his face, her whiskey-colored eyes wide with shock. Clearly, she had not expected him to agree with Mike, not even on so minor a point. "Even so, Mr. McCall," she said with a desperate edge to her voice. "I'm sure there are other ways you'd rather spend the evening than coaching a virtual stranger in a childbirth class."
He could probabl
y think of a hundred or so without half trying, but his son's pleading eyes would not allow him to do that. In addition, there was that niggle of guilt he still felt around this woman.
Aw, what the hell. It wouldn't kill him. It was only for one night.
" Where is this class held?" he asked, ignoring her statement.
"At the Y. But-"
"Look, Mrs. Benson, it's no big deal. Mike's right. You need a coach and I'm free tonight, so I might as well take you to the class."
"All right!'' Mike whooped and jumped two feet straight up in the air.
Tess looked as though she might faint. "M-Mr. McCall, I really don't think this is a good idea."
Perversely, her objection made him more determined. "Nonsense. It's settled." He grasped her elbow and opened the passenger door of his utility vehicle. "Is there anything you need out of your car?"
"My... my pillow and... my purse."
Ryan looked at his son, and the boy scurried to retrieve the items while he all but stuffed Tess into the Cherokee.
"We won't be late. Keep the door locked and behave yourself," he told Mike, striding around to the driver's side.
"I will. Don't worry."
They left the boy standing in the parking lot, beaming as though he'd won the lottery and waving them on their way.
The Y was only about a mile away. They were there in less than five minutes, barely time for Tess to make one more stab at dissuading him.
"Mr. McCall...you really don't have to do this. If you'll just drop me off at the Y, I'm sure I can get a ride home with one of the other couples."
"Look, I said I'd coach you and I'm going to. So just drop it, okay."
She wanted to shriek. The very idea of this intense man performing any kind of personal service for her was ludicrous. But a childbirth coach? He was going to kneel beside her on the hard floor of the meeting room like all those proud fathers-to-be and guide her through the stages of labor and delivery?
Tess shivered. No. She couldn't even imagine it. The whole purpose of the exercise was to learn to relax and focus her attention away from the pain. How could she do that I with those piercing blue eyes focused on her? That dark ! voice rumbling instructions in her ear? The very idea was absurd.
Biting her lower lip, she studied him covertly out of the corner of her eye. He had obviously just come from a construction site. Dressed in jeans, a work shirt and heavy boots, he was the picture of rugged virility, the kind of breath-stealing, larger-than-life male featured on beefcake calendars.
Tess could imagine Ryan staring into a camera lens, his arrogant stance a challenge in itself. He would have a tool belt strapped around his slim hips, his shirt opened to the waist, beads of sweat trickling through the hair on his glistening chest.
Oh, yes. Madison Avenue would love him, she thought wryly. Hours in the sun had turned his skin a deep bronze and physical labor had corded his big frame with muscle. A five o'clock shadow darkened his jaw, and his slightly shaggy black hair lay in tousled curls across his forehead and the back and sides bore marks of a hard hat. He was big, brooding, and brawny. And he was all man.
As he turned into the Y's parking lot, the setting sun gilded his profile, sharply defining those chiseled features.
Tess sighed. Absurd or not, it seemed she had no choice. She didn't want him there. She wasn't even sure she liked him. But Tess was a realist; what she couldn't control or change, she accepted. Ryan was an implacable, determined man. She had already learned that opposing him when his face had that obdurate set was futile.
The instant Ryan brought the car to a stop she reached for the door handle, but he stopped her with a sharp look. "Don't even think about it," he snapped. "This time just sit tight and wait for me."
He flung open his door and climbed out. Wide-eyed, Tess watched him stride around the hood of the Cherokee to her side. So ... he had noticed her hasty bailout that day at the grocery store. She was surprised.
When he opened her door, Tess turned to take his hand, but instead he grasped both of her elbows. As he assisted her from the vehicle, her hands automatically closed around his powerful forearms. The sleeves of his chambray work shirt were rolled up almost to his elbows, and she experienced a faint shock at the feel of warm, hard muscles beneath her fingers and the prickly brush of crisp hair against the underside of her forearms.
She sucked in her breath, and his scent overwhelmed her—musky, dark.. .totally male. For an instant she felt disoriented, almost dizzy. With a faint sense of shock, she realized that it had been over seven months since she had been that close to a man. Any man.
She stepped away quickly. To her relief, he didn't seem to notice her discomfort. After retrieving her pillow out of the back seat, he slammed the car door, grasped her elbow and led her into the building without a word.
The other couples and the instructor were already there. Everyone appeared surprised to see her with a man, and they eyed Ryan curiously.
"Good evening, Tess," Cathy Greene, the instructor, greeted. "What have we here? A new coach?"
"No! Yes. That is... temporarily. Amanda is out of town on assignment. Mr. McCall is..." She stopped and bit her lower lip, her gaze darting to Ryan. She had no idea what to call him. Friend certainly didn't apply. Anything else seemed far too distant, given the circumstances.
Ryan stepped forward with his hand outstretched. "The name's Ryan McCall. I'm Tess's neighbor," he said, using her first name with the ease of long acquaintance. "She was in a bind, so I'm standing in for Amanda tonight."
There were murmurs of approval and introductions were made all around, but the speculation in the faces of the others dimmed only partially.
Cathy clapped her hands. "All right class. Take your positions and let's get started."
The couples spread out in a semicircle in front of Cathy. Following the other men's lead, Ryan assisted Tess into a sitting position on the floor and dropped down beside her. He sat casually, leaning back on one arm, the other draped over his upraised knee. The position stretched his faded jeans taut over powerful thighs.
To Tess's horror, her gaze zeroed in on his crotch and clung. Scalding heat flooded her body from the soles of her feet to her hairline. She felt on fire. Even her earlobes throbbed and burned. Mortified, she jerked her gaze away and stared blindly at Cathy, heart pounding, ears buzzing.
Oh, Lord, had Ryan noticed? She could only pray that he had not; she could not bring herself to look at him.
What on earth was the matter with her, gawking at the man that way? She had read that pregnancy increased some women's libido, but she had not expected it to happen to her. And certainly not over this man.
Tess swallowed hard, forcing down the flutter of panic and guilt. She had simply been alone too long. That was all. That, and her nerves were frazzled by his presence. It was nothing to get upset about.
As usual, Cathy began the class by putting them through a few simple stretching exercises that required the coaches' participation. They were designed not only to help the expectant mother relax but to foster a sense of partnership between the couple. In her case, Tess knew the effort was doomed; she felt about as relaxed as a slab of set concrete.
Gritting her teeth, she lay back on her pillow and steeled herself for the ordeal. Ryan, listening intently to Cathy's instructions and watching the other men, knelt at her feet. The feel of his large, callused hands closing around her ankles sent a shock through her, and she started. If Ryan noticed he did not let it show. Concentrating on his task, he began to methodically guide her through the exercises.
To Tess's surprise, everything went smoothly. By the time they had finished the warm-up, she was feeling ahnost relaxed.
Then Cathy announced that tonight's class would be a rehearsal of the entire labor and delivery, from start to finish.
"Coaches, take your positions," she instructed. "Now class, this is our scenario. You have checked into the hospital. Your mother-to-be has been prepped and the two of you are in the la
bor room. Dads ... or rather I should say, coaches," she corrected with a sly glance at Ryan. "It's your job to reassure your lady and to direct and assist her. To do this, you will have to monitor the contractions and begin your breathing instructions the instant one starts. Does everyone understand?
"Very good,'' Cathy said when they nodded and murmured assent. "Then let's get started, shall we. Coaches, place your palm on your lady's abdomen."
Ryan's head snapped up. His startled gaze shot to the instructor. Then his head whipped around, and that blazing blue stare locked onto Tess.
She bit her lower lip. She was as stunned as he was. The focus of previous lessons had been on technique; they had never actually gone through a rehearsal.
Ryan stared at her distended abdomen, and she saw his jaw tighten. For a moment she thought he would refuse.
He glanced around at the others. Then he looked back at the mound covered by the yellow maternity top and rubbed his palms down his pant legs. Slowly, he reached out his hand. It hovered over her tummy, the callused fingers spread wide. Tess noticed that it wasn't quite steady.
Finally, as gentle as a feather floating to earth, his hand settled onto her tummy.
Tess sucked in her breath. She felt the imprint of that broad pahn and long fingers like a brand. She lay rigid, unable to move, or even breathe, her gaze clinging to Ryan's hard profile. He stared at her abdomen, his face set in its usual remote mask. She had no idea what he was thinking.
"Were your partner actually in labor, at the start of each contraction you would feel a definite tightening of the abdominal muscles," Cathy's voice droned on.
Through the first pretend contraction and the interval of rest that followed, Ryan dutifully kept his hand on Tess's abdomen and performed his part mechanically, his voice a monotone, his face as inscrutable as a sphinx.
