Reality crashed in on her. She suddenly remembered why, exactly, she hadn’t bothered to lower the blinds. In truth, she hadn’t pulled the curtains, but someone else had. Probably the same person who had urged her into her bed so their second round of lovemaking could take place in more leisurely comfort.
She sat up, then immediately squealed and sank back under the covers. She was naked. Totally, completely naked. She never slept naked, but then she never brought a man she’d barely met back to her apartment and had sex with him.
Embarrassment heated her cheeks. What had she been thinking? Easy answer—she hadn’t. She’d been too busy feeling.
But that was no excuse, she told herself as she clutched the sheets to her chest and slowly sat up again. There were no excuses, no way to justify what she’d done. Momentary insanity, she thought glumly. What other explanation could there be?
She glanced around the room, looking for evidence that Carter was still around. There was no noise from the bathroom and she didn’t see any of his clothes. Had he left? Would that make things better or worse?
Before she could decide, she spotted a piece of paper resting at the foot of the bed. Cautiously, careful to stay covered by the sheet, she reached for it.
Morning, Rachel. Sorry to duck out without saying goodbye, but I have to be at work really early and I didn’t let you get a whole lot of sleep last night, so I didn’t want to wake you before dawn. You’re amazing and I hope I can see you again. Here’s my cell number.
He’d left a phone number and signed his name.
Rachel read the note over a couple of times before setting it on the nightstand. He was gone. That was a relief. She didn’t have to deal with any awkward “morning after” conversation. In truth, she didn’t have to deal with anything. Last night had been a weird, unexplainable phenomenon. Like a bubble in the space-time continuum. She would accept it as such and move on.
Right, she thought as she got out of bed and ran to the closet so she could pull on her robe. Moving on was an excellent plan. Last night had never even happened. She wouldn’t think about it ever again.
Except, as she walked to the kitchen to start her morning coffee, she noticed that specific parts of her felt a little sore. Her hips and thighs had that stretched-too-far ache and there was a faint sort of throb in more intimate places.
No wonder, she thought with a smile. The first time had been all heat and speed, but the second had been incredibly slow and seductive and—
“Stop!” she said aloud in a firm voice. “No thinking, remember? This is thinking. Stop it.”
Right. She had to remember it had all been a big mistake. Not one she would ever repeat, under any circumstances. Carter could have been a serial killer. Right now her body could be in chunks all over the place. She’d been stupid and for reasons not clear to anyone, she’d gotten out unscathed.
As for calling Carter, that wasn’t going to happen. What was she supposed to say to him? How could she explain she wasn’t that type of woman, when as far as he was concerned, she obviously was. She hated that he would think she was slutty, but she couldn’t think of a way to change his mind. He was good-looking enough that this sort of thing probably happened to him all the time. He wouldn’t even give her another thought, just as she’d get him out of her mind immediately. Starting right now.
But when she reached for her coffeepot, she realized it was full and that the aroma of the fresh brew filled the room.
He’d made coffee before he’d left, she realized with a little sigh. Talk about thoughtful.
The phone rang. Rachel’s heart fluttered briefly before she consciously squashed the sensation. No fluttering, no anticipation, no hoping, no Carter. Besides, the man might know where she lived and be on very intimate terms with her body, but he didn’t know her phone number.
“Hello?”
“Rachel? It’s Diane. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Diane sighed. “I’m so sorry about last night. I can’t believe I took off like that and left you. I nearly had a heart attack when I got home and realized what I’d done. I came right back but the bartender said you’d already gotten a ride home. I would have called then, but it seemed so late. Are you sure you’re fine?”
“I am,” she said, determined to make it true by sheer force of will.
“Okay. Good. Obviously Eddy makes me crazy. I’m so not going out with him anymore.” Diane sighed. “I should be more like you. You’re so sensible when it comes to men.”
Rachel held in a wince. “I have my moments, like everyone else.”
Diane laughed. “Oh, please. When was the last time you did anything impetuous with a guy?”
Rachel wasn’t about to answer that question. “Thanks for checking on me. I’ll see you later at school.”
“Right. Bye.”
Rachel hung up the phone and poured herself a mug of coffee. It was a new day and she had a new plan. No more wild nights with men she didn’t know. She would go back to being the kind of woman Diane assumed she was. Better for everyone, especially herself.
The rhythmic click of the knitting needles was a good memory for Rachel. One of her years in foster care had been with an older woman who had taught her to knit. She associated the feel of the soft yarn and the sound of the needles with calm evenings spent by a fire with plenty of hot cocoa on hand.
“She’s going to throw me out of class,” Crissy said in a low voice.
Noelle grinned at Rachel, then turned to their friend. “She’s not. She likes you.”
“Ha. She has to.” Crissy tugged at her tangled knitting. “I gave her a free month at one of my gyms. I know it’s wrong to bribe people but I didn’t know what else to do.”
Rachel held in a smile. “Gee, Crissy, have you thought of actually paying attention to your knitting? It is why we’re here.”
Crissy laughed. “Oh, please. You know I only come here so we can go to dinner afterward. The first set of classes wasn’t too bad, but now things are so complicated. Who writes these patterns?”
“We could meet you for dinner after knitting class,” Noelle offered.
“This is fine,” Crissy told her as she held out her needles to Rachel. “I’ll muddle through.”
“Muddle being the key word,” Rachel said as she took the disaster and began unraveling it. “How can you mess up casting on? It’s just not that complicated.”
“I’m a businesswoman. I can run my company, but I’m not very good with my hands,” Crissy said. “Big deal.”
Noelle, ever the peacemaker, patted her arm. “You could try a little harder.”
“I could also wish to be taller,” Crissy said. “It’s not happening.”
Rachel looked at Noelle. “She’s hopeless.”
“Pretty much,” Noelle said cheerfully. “But we love her anyway.”
Noelle set down her needles and stretched her arms above her head. “I’m getting creaky,” she said. “I’m only twenty and I’m already stiff and old.”
Crissy leaned over and hugged Noelle. “You’re pregnant. There’s a difference.” She patted her friend’s round belly. “I can’t believe how long it took you to show. You’re into your sixth month and you’re not big at all.”
“I feel big,” Noelle said with a contented smile. “I feel huge. But it’s good.”
“Of course it is,” Rachel told her. “How’s Dev?”
Noelle’s expression turned dreamy. “Perfect in every way. He wants us to go away before the baby’s born. Sort of a belated honeymoon. But he doesn’t want me to worry about flying. So he’s been looking into a cruise on the Mexican Riviera. Maybe in late January.”
Rachel couldn’t help smiling at her friend. Noelle radiated happiness. Her marriage to Devlin Hunter had started out as a purely practical arrangement that had turned into something wonderful when they’d fallen in love. Even their brief scare that something might be wrong with the baby had ended well when the tests had come back with the go
od news that everything was fine.
Noelle tucked her blond hair behind her ears. “So, what’s new with you two?” she asked.
Crissy laughed. “Since last week? Gee, nothing. What about you, Rach? Any deep, dark secrets you want to share?”
“Not really,” Rachel murmured. She was still a little sore from her wild adventure three nights before, but she sure wasn’t going to mention that to her friends. While she didn’t think they would actually disapprove, she wasn’t ready to confess all. Maybe she never would be.
In truth, she couldn’t figure out why she’d allowed things to get so out-of-hand with Carter. Okay, he’d been funny and charming and sexy. In her line of work, she didn’t meet a lot of guys like that. Most of the men in her circle were married and fathers of five-year-olds.
And yes, it had been long time since her last relationship, so maybe she’d been in a weakened condition. But still—that was hardly an excuse for what she’d done.
Just as bad, she was starting to regret throwing away Carter’s note, which was crazy. It wasn’t as if she would have ever called the man. And say what? Invite him out on a date? He would think she was only interested in him for sex. How humiliating. Not that she wasn’t interested in him that way, but there would have to be more than just that. Just thinking about it all was confusing, which meant that a relationship would be difficult and if there were this many questions now, what was the point?
She knew better than to get involved. Caring meant losing and she’d already had enough pain in her life.
“Earth to Rachel,” Noelle said. “Are you all right?”
“What? Oh.” Rachel handed Crissy her knitting project. “I’m fine. Just a little distracted.”
“I would normally assume work,” Crissy said, “but you had the oddest look on your face.”
Rachel willed herself not to blush. “It’s nothing.”
Crissy didn’t look convinced. “I make it a rule never to pry, but I’m tempted this one time. Just promise me you won’t do what Noelle did and turn up pregnant.”
“Of course not,” Rachel said. “I’m not dating anyone.”
“Dating isn’t actually required,” Crissy informed her with a grin. “Sometimes proximity is enough.”
Noelle laughed. Rachel forced herself to smile, despite the dark, ugly pit that had opened up in her stomach.
Pregnant? No! It wasn’t possible. No, no, no. She couldn’t be. They’d only done it those two times. Just twice.
Without protection.
Rachel wanted to run screaming into the early evening. She wanted to pound her head against the table, or at the very least, turn back time and not invite Carter into her apartment that night.
She couldn’t be pregnant. She was single and a kindergarten teacher. This wasn’t part of her plan. Not yet. Of course she wanted a husband and a family, just like most women. But in that order. Someday. When she was feeling brave enough to risk her heart.
It wasn’t possible, she told herself firmly, fighting the need to throw up. She would be fine.
Seventeen days after her night with Carter and fourteen days after considering the possibility of pregnancy, Rachel sat on the edge of her tub and told herself not to break into hysterics.
She’d waited an extra two days just to be sure. She’d been patient, she’d done her best not to think about it. She’d willed her period to start exactly on time and when it hadn’t, she’d gone the extra mile just to be sure.
Now, she stared at the seven plastic sticks she’d neatly lined up on two paper towels. They were from three different kits and they all said exactly the same thing.
Positively pregnant.
Chapter Three
Rachel hadn’t planned on ever returning to the Blue Dog Bar. Unfortunately, since she’d tossed the note with Carter’s cell number on it, she had no way to get in touch with the man. But she had remembered that one of the bartenders—Rachel couldn’t remember her name—had known Carter well enough to have his number and so here she was, showing up at three-thirty in the afternoon, with a nervous stomach and several spots of drying paste on the hem of her skirt.
Kindergarteners were hard on their teacher’s clothes, she thought as she glanced down at the dark patches. At least the paste would wash out. If only her problem with Carter could be solved as easily.
She drew in a deep breath, wished she hadn’t been so hasty with that note he’d left and walked into the dim building.
It was early enough that there weren’t many customers. Rachel ignored the few patrons and made her way to the bar, where she sighed in relief when she recognized the same woman who had been here that night three weeks ago.
The woman behind the bar smiled. “Hi. Can I help you?” She was pretty—late twenties, with a cute, short haircut and big green eyes.
“I hope so,” Rachel said, wishing she weren’t so nervous. She could feel herself shaking. “I’m, ah, looking for Carter.”
The bartender continued to smile. “Okay. Carter who?”
Rachel held in a moan of humiliation. “I don’t know,” she admitted in a rush. “I met him here three weeks ago. I didn’t mean to. I was here with a friend and she was breaking up with this guy and…” She sucked in a breath and clutched the large envelope of papers to her chest. “That’s not important, right? Because no one cares. Okay. We, ah, met and I need to talk to him. It’s really important. Carter. He’s about six-two with dark blond hair and a diamond stud earring.”
Honestly, how many Carters could there be? Rachel swallowed hard, then blurted out, “He has a scar shaped like a lightning bolt on his thigh right by his…”
“Oh,” the woman said, knowing. “That Carter. Have a seat. I’ll see if I can get in touch with him.”
Carter couldn’t decide if he was annoyed or relieved. He couldn’t believe it had been three weeks and Rachel was only now getting in touch with him. Sure, hard-to-get was a time-honored game between the sexes, but hey—it was him. He’d never had to wait to get a call before.
Logically, this was probably better. He knew better than to get involved and if she were the kind of female totally into games, he wouldn’t be into her. Problem solved.
Except he had a feeling it wouldn’t be that simple. He hadn’t been able to get Rachel out of his mind. He knew where she lived and could have gone to see her, but that wasn’t his style. Besides, he’d left her his number and she hadn’t called. What did that say about what she thought about him?
He walked into the Blue Dog Bar determined to make her want him, even though he didn’t know if he wanted her. His male pride was at stake. He nodded at Jenny, who pointed to a booth in the back. He squared his shoulders and strolled casually in that direction.
Only to get broadsided by a two-by-four.
It didn’t matter that the hunk of wood was metaphorical. His gut twisted, the air rushed out of his lungs and he would swear he could hear angels singing. Damn, she looked good.
Rachel sat facing the bar, her back all straight, her clothes prissy enough for a preacher’s wife and her hair tied back in some kind of fancy braid. But he knew the truth. He knew that behind that don’t-touch-me-I’m-a-good-girl exterior beat the heart of a wanton. She kissed like a dream and made love as if it were her last time.
Heat poured through him and he had a brief but intense fantasy about dragging her onto the table and taking her right there. Only he’d never been one to show off in front of strangers. Besides, she hadn’t called and that might have hurt his feelings.
“Rachel,” he said as he approached.
She half stood, then sank back into the seat. “Hello, Carter.”
He slid into the seat across from her, then noticed the large legal-sized envelope she’d placed on the table. What was that about?
“It’s been awhile,” he said.
She nodded. “Three weeks.”
She licked her lips, which made his whole body clench. Damn, why did she have to get to him?
She p
ut her hands on the table, laced her fingers together, then pulled back and dropped them to her lap. Nervousness radiated from her like a fine mist. He half expected her to clutch her stomach and run for the bathroom.
He’d decided to play it cool, to let her do all the talking. Not only was it a power play, but he would learn more that way. So he got really annoyed with himself when he blurted out, “You didn’t call.”
She blinked at him. “Excuse me?”
“You didn’t call. I was polite. I had to be up early and I didn’t want to wake you, so I left a note. And my phone number.” He leaned toward her. “I don’t go home with just anyone. Is that what you thought? You could use me and forget about me?”
He swore silently. Had those words come out of his mouth? If anyone ever found out he’d said them, he would be drummed out of the male gender and forced to live as a eunuch.
Her eyes widened. “I didn’t use you.”
“What would you call it? You had your way with me and then walked away without a second thought.” Until today, but he doubted she would think of that.
“I’m the woman. I can’t use you,” she said.
“Right. Because only guys can be jerks. Women always act perfectly.”
“Well, no. Of course not.” She stared at him. “I wasn’t trying to use you.”
“You could have called.”
“I didn’t know what to say.”
“How about ‘Thanks for the great night. We should go out sometime.’” Unless she hadn’t wanted to go out with him again, which wasn’t possible.
She drew in a deep breath. “Carter, I’m sorry I didn’t call, but we have something else more important to discuss.”
Important, huh? With women, that generally meant one thing. The relationship. But he and Rachel didn’t have a relationship.
“I’m listening,” he said.
The Ladies' Man Page 3
