He strolled away, laughing inside at how he'd left Sabrina speechless. He'd enjoy his small victory while he could because when he arrived at her house tonight, the tables would be turned and he wouldn't get a word in edgewise.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"THANKS for the nice evening," Clay told Sabrina as he prepared to leave. "I had a great time meeting my nephew. I hope we can do this again."
"Absolutely," she said as she matched his uneven gait down the sidewalk while Adrian remained inside to give Jeremy his last bottle for the night. "You're welcome to drop by whenever you're in town."
"Thanks." He paused before he slid inside his blue Ford Mustang. "For what it's worth, I hope you two get back together."
She'd like that too, but only for the right reasons. "It's hard to say what will happen," she prevaricated. "Too many roadblocks are in the way." She didn't feel inclined to say that beyond the obvious issue of the physical distance between them, the biggest speed bump on her highway to happiness would be his motive.
"Road blocks are usually temporary and can be moved," he reminded her.
She laughed at his hopeful tone. "True, but it's dangerous to move them if the hazard is still on the other side."
He met her gaze calmly. "A preacher once told me that love covers a multitude of sins. Do you love him?"
Heaven help her, but she did. Every kind thing he'd done in the past week had built on the one before, but his selfless act on Sunday had turned the tide in his favor. The only problem was, he only did those kind things out of concern for Jeremy's welfare, not because he wanted to do them for her.
"My feelings aren't the issue," she countered as she met Clay's gaze. "Adrian's interest lies solely with Jeremy. As you know, he's fanatical about meeting his responsibilities. Right now, every choice he makes is with him in mind."
"If you say so," he said dubiously, "but I think you're wrong."
"We'll see," she said as she hugged him goodbye to purposely end the conversation. "Drive carefully and don't be a stranger. Jeremy wants to spend time with his favorite uncle."
She waited until Clay drove off before she went inside to find Adrian coming out of her bedroom. Funny, how it seemed so natural for him to have full rein of her whole house. What would it be like when he wasn't there? She didn't want to think of how empty the place would seem.
"He's asleep so soon?" she asked.
"He's had a busy day. I presume Clay's on his way home?"
"Yeah. I was glad to see him."
"Me, too. Did you think he looked OK?"
"I haven't seen him in over a year," she reminded him. "And he doesn't look anything like he did when I saw him in hospital. Why do you ask?"
"I thought he seemed a bit pale. He didn't have much of an appetite, either."
"He polished off a salad, a large steak and a baked potato. If that wasn't much of an appetite, then I'd hate to feed him when he has one."
"You're right. It's my imagination. By the way, I found out who our Jane Doe is. Her husband stopped by to see me today."
"Really? Who is she?"
"Abigail Malloy. Before her attack, she'd apparently told her husband she was going to file for a divorce. Now that she doesn't remember, Thomas intends to fight for his marriage."
"Oh?"
"Abby's amnesia gave him a clean slate and he wants to take advantage of it. Time will tell if he's successful."
"Or if his plan backfires when she remembers."
"That, too. With any luck, when that day comes, Thomas will have shown her he's not such a bad guy after all." He hesitated. "OK, let's have it."
"Have what?"
"The tongue-lashing you've been dying to give me all evening."
She sank onto the brand-new sofa that had arrived at four o'clock, right before the hardware store had delivered the gas grill. "Patience is a virtue. Besides, knowing you're waiting for the bomb to fall is half the fun."
"Gee, thanks," he said wryly as he sat on the other end of the sofa. "I think I'd rather hear you yelling."
"I do not yell," she said loftily.
"Point taken, but you have to admit you weren't very happy with me when I got home tonight."
And she'd thought she'd hidden her feelings so well. "I wasn't."
"I assume you didn't like Jeremy's gifts."
"I completely understand why you bought presents for him. What boy wouldn't want a play golf set, a baseball mitt or a tricycle? Those were thoughtful things and I certainly wouldn't deny him a single one, even if they are several years ahead of their time."
"It never hurts to be prepared. If you don't care about Jeremy's toys, what's the problem?"
She stared at him, incredulous. "The problem is the other stuff. The stuff you had delivered," she reminded him.
"You didn't like the grill? I bought it because it was a lot like your old one. The one you don't own any more."
She paused, surprised he'd noticed. "It's very nice and I love it, but…"
"But what?"
"You can't buy expensive things like that."
"Would it help if I told you I'd purchased it for Jeremy?"
She raised an eyebrow. "No."
"I did," he insisted. "He has to eat and you've always liked to cook outdoors, so it seemed logical to buy something you can use on his behalf."
"Aren't you stretching your justification a bit? It will be a while before he can sink his teeth into a steak."
"Maybe so, but the point is he'll benefit in the long run."
"How do you justify the television?"
"Cartoons," he said promptly. "You don't want our child to be the only one who hasn't seen or heard of Sesame Street, Dora the Explorer, or whatever the latest kid show is, do you?"
She folded her arms. "Then explain your rationale for this sofa. I suppose you thought Jeremy needed it, too."
His smile was boyishly handsome. "He does. On rainy days, we'd pull off the sofa cushions and build forts and rafts and all kinds of things. They're also perfect for protecting furniture from suction-cup darts, woofle balls and every other projectile a boy can shoot out of a toy gun."
"You obviously gave your purchases a great deal of thought."
"I did."
"Did you give any thought as to how I'd feel when these things arrived? Did you consider how your gesture looks from my point of view? Aren't my household furnishings meeting your exalted standards? Or maybe you think I'm not a good provider? Because that's exactly how your so-called gifts make me feel, Adrian."
He looked horrified. "I didn't intend to question your ability to provide. I bought those things strictly because they were things you could use, although I did have a few selfish motives."
"Oh, really? What were they?"
"For one, I like to watch the evening news and I can't."
"You can always go to your apartment."
"And miss being with Jeremy? Not a chance. As for the couch, I've spent a lot of time here and will spend more in the future. In case you haven't noticed, your chairs aren't the most comfortable in the world," he said wryly.
"OK, they're not, but you can't decide what I need, Adrian, then deliver it without giving me an option or the opportunity for discussion. That's what got us into this mess in the first place!"
He raised an eyebrow. "Would you have gone shopping with me if you'd known what I wanted to buy?"
"No."
He looked smug. "I rest my case."
"OK, so I would have refused," she admitted, stroking the soft fabric with one hand, "but don't you see, Adrian? I can't accept your gifts."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't feel comfortable accepting them," she said firmly. "I can't explain it, but it doesn't feel right." She ran her palm over a cushion and marveled at the fabric's softness. "Even if it did, though, as much as I love this sofa and can use the extra seating, it's far too big."
He glanced around the room. "It does cover a lot of floor space. Poor Jeremy won't be able to crawl far, wil
l he?"
"Not without bumping into something," she agreed. "Next, you'll want to move us to a larger apartment."
She'd spoken facetiously, but to her dismay his guilty expression spoke volumes. "Please tell me you didn't sign a lease for a new apartment."
"I didn't," he replied defensively. "I've been considering it, though."
"Adrian, so help me…" she warned.
"Now, Bree, calm down. Give me an ounce of credit, would you? I intended for the three of us to hunt for a house or an apartment together."
"I don't want to move," she insisted. Actually, she did, but she couldn't afford to.
"I'm only thinking about the future," he countered. "Jeremy will eventually need his own bedroom for privacy and for little-boy sleepovers. But even before then, I'll be visiting on a regular basis. As much as I'm willing to do whatever it takes to spend time with Jeremy, I'm past the age when spending the night on the cold, hard floor is fun."
Obviously, the future he had in mind was for her to provide him with what basically amounted to a home away from home. If he actually paid for the apartment, it would only worsen the situation. She might as well stamp "mistress" on her forehead, she thought in disgust.
"The floor wouldn't be so terrible," she countered. "You two could use sleeping bags. It would be your weekend adventure."
"Adventure is right. An adventure in pain."
"If the floor isn't an option, you can always have the sofa." She patted the cushion beside her. "Or stay in a real hotel."
He looked thoughtful. "You're right. Jeremy and I could camp out in luxury. Between the indoor pool, room service and the on-site restaurant, we wouldn't have to leave the building the entire time I'm in town."
The thought of being excluded didn't sit well in her chest. She'd like to think they were years away from that scenario, but she knew of one divorced couple who shuttled their two-year-old from his mother's house during the week to his father's on the weekend. Her stomach churned just thinking about it.
"On the other hand," he continued, "if you consider my original plan, which gave you a large enough place for all of us, when Jeremy and I did our guy things together, he'd still be at home and I wouldn't disrupt your routine. You'd hardly know I was there."
Oh, she'd know if he was there or not. In the short time he'd been visiting, he'd created such a presence in her house that it seemed remarkably empty whenever he was gone. For a woman who was used to being alone, she was amazed at how easily she'd grown to enjoy having him around.
As for her routine, Adrian may have slipped into their lives without causing a ripple, but he'd certainly disrupted her peace of mind.
Obviously, when the time came for Adrian's visits, she would have to choose between the lesser of two evils—constant exposure to Adrian or rattling around in an empty house and missing the only family member she had. From his too-innocent expression, he'd already guessed which option she would favor.
"I'll admit we'll need a larger house," she began, "but it won't happen until I pay off my bills and save some money."
"I could help," he began.
She shook her head. "If Jeremy needs something beyond my means, I'll let you know. Until then, forget it."
She saw the unhappiness in his eyes and the disapproving set to his mouth, so she bargained. "I'll agree to keep the grill and the TV if I can reimburse you for my medication."
"Throw in the sofa, and you have a deal."
She hated being beholden to him, but it was so very nice and functional, even if it was a trifle too large. "OK, but no more purchases until we discuss them first."
"Agreed," he said. "Now that we've settled that, is there any chocolate cake left?"
"You're still hungry?"
"I'm a growing boy." He grinned as he bounded to his feet. "Would you like a piece?"
"I'll pass. I'm still stuffed from dinner."
As he disappeared in the kitchen to serve himself, she heard Jeremy stirring in the other room. Immediately she rose to check on him. When she saw he was restless and wouldn't go back to sleep on his own even with his pacifier, she cuddled him against her shoulder.
"Did you have a nightmare, my little man?" she crooned.
Adrian appeared beside her. "What's wrong?"
"Bad dream, I guess," she whispered. "In another minute he'll be asleep."
He was. She laid him in his crib and tiptoed out of the room after Adrian. Expecting him to say goodnight, she was surprised when he snaked both arms around her waist and captured her in his embrace.
"You know something?" he asked. "I always knew we'd make beautiful babies, and we did."
She smiled. "One, anyway."
"He is such a miracle."
"All babies are."
"I didn't have a chance to thank you for the past couple of days. They were…special."
"I'm glad someone had a good time," she said dryly, thinking of her miserable Sunday.
"I know you didn't, but I was able to experience what you go through on a twenty-four seven basis. I appreciate that you allowed me to take care of him instead of someone else. Whether you realize it or not, you gave me a gift beyond compare."
His sincerity touched her heart. "I'm glad," she said simply, before she grinned. "Hold that thought, though, when you're in the middle of a tie-score football game with your team on the five-yard line, and your son decides he's hungry or wants your undivided attention."
He chuckled. "Then I'll have to negotiate another deal with his mom."
"Really? Negotiate with what?"
"With this." He bent his head and kissed her.
She'd told herself how dangerous it would be to kiss him again and he'd proved her correct. In spite of the minefield still lying between them, his need ignited her own and she felt as if she were bursting into flame. Everything faded into the background, leaving her senses free to fully appreciate Adrian.
His warmth surrounded her as he tugged her close and pressed one hand against her spine so that she rested full length against him. He tasted of chocolate and smelled of sandalwood, and she felt a light rasp of five-o'clock shadow as he trailed kisses down her neck.
"I should go," he muttered against her skin.
"Probably," she agreed, although she didn't make any effort to break out of his hold. In fact, being in his arms was completely intoxicating. Sending him home seemed too horrible an act to contemplate.
"I don't want to." His hands roamed to the edge of her shirt. His fingers slipped under the fabric and skimmed the bare skin above the waistband of her Bermuda shorts.
"I don't want you to, either," she breathed, wondering if yesterday's migraine had caused her to lose her mind and all of her inhibitions. No, even if all her faculties were intact, she couldn't refuse him because she wanted their special brand of intimacy as much as he did.
Heaven help her.
His hands slowly inched upward until he reached the soft swells of her breasts. Instinctively, she arched her back to grant him fuller access, and a half-groan came from his throat.
"Do you know my real reasons for buying that sofa?" he asked.
"No."
"Because I imagined you sprawled on it. Wearing nothing but me."
"Hmmm."
"The colors reminded me of—"
"You're talking too much," she said breathlessly as his hands released the clasp of her bra.
"I am," he agreed.
"Make love to me, Adrian," she begged, noticing her voice sounded husky, as if it belonged to someone more exotic and alluring than everyday, average Sabrina.
"I thought you'd never ask."
Within minutes, their clothes disappeared and he lowered her onto the sofa cushions, fitting her body beneath his. His hands masterfully and magically made her body quiver. Needing to ground herself, she flung her arms around his neck and tried to ride out the building storm.
Suddenly, he pulled away. "Wait."
"For what?" She grumbled at the interruption.
He rustled through the clothing on the floor, dug in his jeans pocket and as soon as he removed a foil packet, she understood.
Fumbling with the package, he mumbled an uncomplimentary "Damn" before she took pity on him and ripped it open herself. Although his clumsiness with protection didn't prove anything, his ten-thumbed dexterity seemed to corroborate his story that he hadn't seen anyone since she'd left. He was as out of practice as she was and the thought was comforting.
Yet, when he repositioned himself between her legs, ineptitude became skill, awkwardness became grace and every action became perfection, as if their instincts were so tuned to each other that months of celibacy didn't matter.
She squirmed beneath him, eager to receive him, begging him to hurry. When she thought she couldn't stand another second of this torment, he slipped inside her and she groaned with delight.
He moved slowly, then built to a steady rhythm that seemed choreographed specifically for them.
Suddenly she shattered as tsunami waves of pleasure surged through her. Another thrust sent Adrian surfing with her.
He collapsed, pressing her into the cushions, but she hardly noticed. It could have been a minute later, or an hour, but still buried deeply inside her, he raised himself on his elbows.
"I didn't mean to crush you."
"You didn't."
"I didn't hurt you, did I?"
He sounded so concerned she smiled. "I'm fine. More than fine, actually. I'm great."
He kissed her temple. "Me, too. That was amazing."
What she thought more amazing was how easily the barriers and hurts of the past year had disappeared during this magical interlude, although she didn't delude herself by thinking these moments signaled a happily-ever-after ending. Then an unwelcome thought popped into her head.
"Did you plan this?"
"No." He was aghast. "What makes you think I did?"
"The condom in your pocket."
His boyish smile appeared. "Wishful thinking on my part. Apparently my fairy godfather chose to grant my wish."
His Baby Bombshell Page 12
