Father to Be

by Marilyn Pappano

  All traces of humor slowly disappeared from his face, but he didn’t become sad or angry. Merely serious. “I was married to her. Of course she knew.”

  Twice before, they’d discussed his marriage. The first time he’d snapped a plastic fork in half and walked away. The second time he’d told her it was none of her business because they were just friends and nothing more. Did Saturday night’s kiss make them something more? With business between them, could they even be something more?

  Might as well hang a Hands Off sign around his neck, Mary Therese had advised. It hadn’t been a warning—the woman believed Kelsey was too smart to get involved with a client—but it might as well have been. It was a warning she’d been giving herself since coming to Bethlehem.

  It was a warning that was becoming increasingly harder to heed.

  “What is it you want to know, Kelsey?”

  She wanted to know that he wasn’t still desperately in love with his ex-wife, that she wasn’t making a major mistake. She wanted to know his past and her future, wanted promises, guarantees, reassurances. She wanted …

  Him.

  Nervously she pretended that crossing the street, then the apartment parking lot, required her utmost attention. Digging in her pocket, she pulled out her keys, then ran up the steps to the door.

  “It scares you, doesn’t it?” he asked quietly. “This thing between you and me.”

  The key was in the lock, but she didn’t turn it. Instead, she looked at him, standing at the bottom of the steps, hands in his pockets, looking incredibly earnest.

  “You want to pretend that we’re just friends, but you know it’s not true. I don’t kiss my friends. I don’t spend most of my days thinking about them. I don’t spend most of my nights dreaming about them.”

  She stared, unable to move, to speak.

  “Tell me you don’t think about me, Kelsey.” He moved up one step. “Tell me you don’t miss me when I’m gone.” Another step. “Tell me you’re not interested in touching or kissing me.” One more step. Now he was directly in front of her. “Tell me you don’t want me.”

  Feeling hot, edgy, and in far more danger than she could survive, she tried to turn away, but he caught her arm. His fingers were gentle, his grip loose. She could pull free with no effort, but she didn’t. She didn’t want to.

  Her fingers trembled as she lifted them to his face, hesitantly touching his cheek, his jaw, before withdrawing. “I could lose my job,” she whispered.

  “Or your heart. Which one scares you most?”

  Both. She’d devoted her life to her career, to making up to Steph for letting her down. Often the work was difficult, sometimes thankless, but it was her life. Or had been so far.

  But wasn’t a job, even a career, worth sacrificing if it meant getting someone to share her life in return? Wasn’t the opportunity to love worth the possibility of heartbreak? Wasn’t it the risks that made the prize so worthwhile?

  He climbed the final step and she took a matching step back. He continued to advance, his movements slow, deliberate, threatening—no, not threatening. Promising.

  She continued to retreat until the door was at her back. “I’m not scared,” she murmured.

  “Of course not. You’re just trembling for fun.”

  “It’s cool.”

  “It’s seventy-five degrees.”

  “I’m just—”

  He touched his fingers to her mouth, and she stilled. Such a small touch … but it sent heat through her body. Tied her stomach in knots. Made her lungs impossible to fill. “Tell me, Kelsey.”

  She swallowed hard, brushed his fingers away, then clung to them. “I don’t think about you. I don’t miss you. I don’t want to touch you or kiss you. I don’t want you.” With each lie she pulled him closer, and as soon as the last one faded from her lips, she touched her mouth to his, slid her arms around his neck, brought her body into contact with his.

  It was a hungry, needy kiss, fueled by urgency, passion, and heat. He held her tightly, thrust his tongue into her mouth, stroked her, teased her, made her sizzle. His hands glided over her hips, sending a throb through her as he touched the bruise, but the pain was forgotten the instant he lifted her bottom against him, rubbing his arousal against her.

  For a moment she tried to remember Mary Therese’s advice, her own warning, but he tasted too good. She felt too good. She was past caring about consequences. There was always time to deal with them later.

  Cupping her hands to his jaw, she pushed him away, ending the kiss even though he protested. For a long time she stared at him, and he stared back. It was easy to identify the desire in his eyes, but there was more, something that softened it, that intensified it, that made her feel … special.

  She pressed one chaste kiss to his mouth, then turned, opened the door, and went inside. She left the door open in silent invitation, ignored the lights, and started through the darkened living room to the bedroom. She was halfway there when the door closed behind her. A moment later she heard her keys hit the dining table with a jangle.

  And then he was in the bedroom.

  Thin light came through the window. She moved to close the blinds, but his hoarse command stopped her. “Don’t. There’s nothing but woods out there. No one can see but me … and I want to see.”

  With a faint smile she turned back. He’d stopped just inside the door and was looking at her as if he liked what he saw. She folded her arms across her chest, noticed that it pulled the neckline of her dress lower, then dropped her arms to her sides. “You’re the first man I’ve brought here.”

  “I’m going to be the only one.”

  “You’re pretty sure of yourself.”

  He didn’t respond but came closer, then moved around behind her. With strong, gentle fingers he unfastened the tortoiseshell clasp that restrained her hair, then let it fall over his hands. “I don’t know about you or even myself, but I’m damn sure of us. I’m sure we belong together. I’m sure this is right. I’m sure.” He brushed her hair to one side and touched his tongue to her ear, making her shiver, making her turn in his arms to face him.

  He rationed his kisses—slow, sweet touches to her ear, her jaw, her chin, and finally her mouth. He coaxed her lips apart, eased his tongue inside, teasing, tasting, feeding her hunger. Leaving her mouth, he dusted a trail of kisses down her throat to the sensitive skin between her breasts, where her dress blocked his way. He returned his mouth to hers and let his hands explore further, stroking over the fabric, leaving heat and want and need everywhere they touched.

  “Please,” she whispered, but the word had no sound. It passed from her mouth to his, swallowed in his kiss, lost in the sweet ache he created.

  She settled her hands at his waist, where her fingers tugged up the bottom of his shirt, where her palms flattened and rubbed across his belly, over his chest, across his nipples, making his breath catch, making him groan. Her hands took his shirt with them, worked the sleeves over his arms, pulled it over his head. They had to interrupt the kiss to discard the shirt, and she took advantage of the break to brush her mouth across the smooth, warm skin of his chest.

  Though his muscles were taut and his breathing ragged, he didn’t interrupt her slow exploration. He didn’t hurry her along, didn’t guide her to the kisses he wanted most, though she knew. The instant her teeth closed around his nipple, he gasped and his fingers, tangled in her hair, tightened their grip. When she sucked it, his muscles grew harder, and so did he. She felt the proof against her hip.

  When her fingers dipped low over soft denim and hard flesh, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away. He swept her dress over her head with one swift movement, kicked off his shoes, and, with her help, stripped off the rest of their clothes, then lifted her against him while he kissed her with fierce demand, fierce need. By the time they settled on the bed, he was inside her, stroking her hard, deeply, smoothly, kissing her the same way.

  Release came quickly, bubbling up from deep inside, unbearabl
y hot, unbearably intense. Crying out, she arched against him and heard his own hoarse groan, felt his own powerful completion. He took a moment, gave her a moment to breathe, to calm the tremors ricocheting through her, to regain her balance, but only a moment, and then he began the process all over again. Touching, kissing, stroking, caressing, sucking, thrusting, tormenting. Teasing, pleasing, easing.

  Loving.

  J.D. sat on the side of the bed, ran his fingers through his hair, yawned, then reached for one shoe. His shirt was around there somewhere, along with the other shoe, but damned if he cared where. Getting his jeans on had taken all his energy. He wasn’t sure how he was going to make it home.

  “I wish you could spend the night.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. Kelsey lay curled on her side, the sheet tucked over her breasts and under her arm, her hair spread out over the pillow. He wished he could spend the night too, but Bud was expecting him. So were the kids. “Don’t tempt me, darlin’. I’d like nothing better.”

  He’d tied his shoelace and located the second shoe, half under the bed, when she spoke again.

  “J.D.? I don’t know how to act.”

  He turned to face her. “You act like you always do, except when we’re alone. Now I have the right to touch you and kiss you as much as I want. Now you have the right to seduce me whenever you want.”

  The faint smile that touched her mouth was sad. “When we’re alone,” she echoed. “In secret, like it’s something to be ashamed of. Like we’ve done something wrong.”

  “In private,” he disagreed. “Like it’s something very personal and very intimate, just between you and me. Isn’t that how most relationships start out?”

  With a shrug she tugged the sheet higher, up to her chin, and curled into a tighter ball. “It is wrong. It’s a breach of professional ethics. A serious issue of impropriety. Grounds for losing my job.”

  Laying his shoe aside, he grabbed a fistful of sheet and pulled on it. She had only two choices—come with the sheet, or lie exposed in front of him. She came with it. “I don’t like being considered unethical or improper,” he growled, his mouth only a breath from hers. “What we did wasn’t wrong. It was incredible, and I would be more than happy to adjust the opinion of anyone who thinks otherwise, starting with you.”

  He gave her a hard, greedy kiss, one that made her sink against him, that almost persuaded him to shuck his clothes, crawl back in bed with her, and stay there forever. Instead, he ended the kiss, tangled his fingers in her hair, and gave her a crooked grin. “You’re a hard woman to walk away from.”

  “So stay.”

  He wanted to, because he knew when the door closed behind him, the doubts would start. In the time it took him to get back home, she could talk herself into never speaking to him again. But he couldn’t be with her every minute of every day. Better that she should deal with the doubts up front, because they might get in the way when he asked her to marry him.

  And he was going to ask her to marry him. Somewhere inside, he’d known it for a while, but he would bet she didn’t have a clue. It was about time he gave her one.

  “I’ll miss you.”

  She smiled that faint smile again. “I’ll miss you too.”

  He finished dressing and walked to the door, then looked back. “Kelsey. What happened between us …” His gesture covered the space between them and took in the bed. “This is as right as it ever gets. Trust me.”

  This time there was more confidence in the smile. “I do. Be careful on your way home.”

  Once more he turned to go. Once more he stopped. “You know I’m falling in love with you, don’t you?” He said it more as statement than question, an obvious fact that she couldn’t possibly have overlooked. “I just wanted to be sure.”

  Grinning at the surprise on her face, he took his leave then. He locked the door behind him, took the steps in one bound, and headed for home. The blocks passed too quickly. Before he was ready for it, his apartment was one short flight of stairs away.

  He let himself in quietly, locked up—and turned to find his father watching him from the kitchen while he stirred honey into a cup of steaming tea.

  “I wasn’t aware Bethlehem was so big that it could take this long to walk a girl home,” Bud said in greeting, sounding as innocent as the kids asleep down the hall.

  J.D. bounced his keys on his palm a couple of times before tossing them onto the counter. “Sometimes it takes a while to say good night.”

  “Reckon a man ought to have sweet dreams after a good-night like that.”

  “Reckon he should,” J.D. agreed. Though they would have been sweeter if he’d been able to stay in Kelsey’s bed. Aw, hell, if he’d stayed in Kelsey’s bed, he wouldn’t have slept long enough to have dreams. He would have made love to her the whole night long.

  “So maybe I’ll get those grandkids sooner than I expected.”

  “Maybe you will.” Turning serious, J.D. leaned against the counter. “Would that bother you?”

  “Why should it?”

  “She’s not—” He broke off, feeling as if he were about to betray Kelsey, as if he were somehow assigning fault to her when there was none. In spite of the discomfort, he took a deep breath and finished. “She’s not Carol Ann.”

  “No, she’s not. She’s Kelsey Malone, and she’s a fine woman in her own right.” Bud sighed. “Son, you know I loved Carol Ann dearly. You loved her dearly. But she’s not here. And if you think you might love Kelsey, well, that’s enough for me to love her too.”

  “I think I might,” he admitted.

  “Good.” Bud started to walk out, but he stopped in the doorway. “I have just one comment to make. If I were you, and I’d just discovered I was in love with a girl like Kelsey, I wouldn’t be back here talking to me. I’d be over there with her, making sweet memories to keep us company through our old age.” He grinned. “But, of course, that’s just me. Good night, son. See you in the morning.”

  “Good night, Dad.” J.D. turned off the lights and went down the hall. He bypassed his room for the open door to the guest—the kids’ room—where he silently slipped inside.

  Grade lay sprawled on her back, her hair tangled about her head, her covers more off the bed than on. Noah, his pajamas on backward, cuddled the stuffed alligator, and Jacob was using a stuffed bear for a pillow and had a snore to match. Caleb was the only one without a security blanket, but then, the kids were his security. As long as they were all right, he was all right.

  After straightening Gracie’s covers, he went to his room and closed the door. As he settled into bed, he admitted that Bud was right. He should have stayed with Kelsey. His bed was too big and too empty, and the smells of her that clung to his skin were too enticing.

  Finding the phone in the dark, he dialed her number. She answered on the second ring. “Can I see you tomorrow?” he asked without preamble.

  “I’ve got home visits that will last into the evening.”

  “When you’re finished?”

  “All right. J.D.—”

  “No regrets,” he said quickly. “You’d break my heart if you regretted making love with me.” Though he said it lightly, he wasn’t kidding. He would be more disappointed than words could express if she was sorry.

  “No, no regrets. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Hey, what were you going to say?”

  She hesitated, then murmured, “I didn’t know.”

  His forehead wrinkled into a puzzled frown, then he remembered his last words, before leaving her apartment. You know I’m falling in love with you, don’t you? I just wanted to be sure. “Well … now you do. Have you had time to consider whether it’s good news or bad?”

  “If you’d stayed, I would have shown you. Now you’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

  “Promises, promises. I’ll hold you to it.” His smile faded. “Good night, Kelsey.”

  She said good night, then hung up. A moment later he hung up, too, and settled down in bed
for sleep and sweet dreams.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was turning out to be a lousy summer, Caleb decided Thursday afternoon. At least if he were home, he could go off in the woods or go hunting or fishing or do whatever he wanted. But not here. He had to be baby-sat, as if he were a kid, and was never left alone except when he was in his room, and sometimes not even then.

  And today was the lousiest day of all, because Grayson had picked up all three kids and taken them to the old folks’ home with him and the dog, and Caleb was all alone with Bud and nothin’ to do. The shrink had asked Caleb to go with them, and even though he kind of wanted to, he’d said no. He spent enough time with old folks as it was. He wasn’t goin’ lookin’ for more.

  Grayson had looked at his old man, sitting right there, but Bud had just laughed and said he was right. He should spend the afternoon with kids his own age. Trouble was, he didn’t know any. Least, not any that he’d want to be with, who would want to be with him.

  Except maybe Alanna.

  He hadn’t seen her since the trouble at church Monday and hadn’t heard any more about that. Stupid Kenny hadn’t died of his bloody nose or black eye even though he’d acted like he would, and so his parents hadn’t done anything to get Caleb into any more trouble. Of course, it wasn’t Sunday yet. Maybe they wouldn’t let Caleb in church on Sunday. Maybe they’d be waiting at the door, pointing fingers, and saying, “That boy shouldn’t be here,” as if he weren’t fit to be around normal people.

  Maybe they’d be right.

  He sighed loud and made Bud look at him. “Can I go somewhere?”

  “Where do you want to go?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe for a walk.” Maybe by Alanna’s house, just to see if she was around.

  “I suppose it’d be all right. Don’t go far,” Bud added as Caleb jumped to his feet. “And don’t stay gone too long.”

  “I won’t.” He went out the door, then took the stairs two at a time. He hadn’t been out by himself, really by himself, in a long time, and it felt good. Not that he had anywhere to go, or anything to do. But at least Bud trusted him enough to let him go.