“Yes, I do know. I also remember your obstetrician telling you the only time you’re to be on your feet is for trips to the bathroom and brief showers.”
She had no comeback for that.
“Now, want me to carry you to the living room, or are you good in here?”
“Carry me, please.” She plucked all of the scattered yarns from her chest and stomach, setting them atop her embroidery hoop before placing the lopsided pile on the nightstand—right alongside the grinning picture of Ben that his mother had so thoughtfully provided. She held out her arms, like an excited little girl, wriggling her fingers.
OVER THE NEXT WEEK, Gabby and Dane settled into a comfortable routine. If Dane cooked, he carried her to the sofa, allowing them to talk while he prepared their meal. Some nights, he picked up a homemade dinner from his mom or simply ordered delivery. In all cases, they ate picnic-style on Gabby’s bed, watching movies, taking turns deciding what to watch.
Tuesday night after eating, as usual, Dane retired to the armchair at the head of her bed with a pile of legal-size folders on his lap.
Over the melodic rise of music in the tear-jerker chick flick Gabby had selected, he asked, “Tell me your interpretation of this.”
Pausing the movie, she said, “Shoot.”
He explained briefly that he needed her opinion on the closing argument from a child custody case he was to make a judgment on in the morning. Upon finishing the sad story about why a mother hadn’t been able to properly care for her children, he asked, “What’s your take?”
“Seeing how I haven’t heard the other side—”
“I don’t want you to. I just need your gut-level reaction to what I’ve just read.”
Taking a deep breath, she said, “While what the woman has been through is a nightmare, her attorney has done a brilliant job of candy-coating fairly ugly truths. I’m no expert, but the fact that she tried rehab isn’t the same thing as finishing, and then living a life without recreational drugs and booze.”
“My thoughts exactly.” He jotted a few notes on the margin of a document, then closed the folder, leaned his head back and shut his eyes.
“Does it ever bother you?” she asked, angling toward him. “The whole notion of literally holding people’s lives in your hands?”
“Of course,” he said, cracking open his eyes to peer her way. “But for the most part, it’s not me making decisions, but hundreds of years of case law. Besides which, by the time plaintiffs appear in my court, there’s a reason. We’re not talking about folks randomly pulled off the street who have their children taken away. For every action, there’s a legal consequence. Period.”
“I get that….” She fan-folded the edge of her bed-sheet. “I guess what I’m asking is, does it personally bother you being the one responsible for enforcing that law? You know, delivering the bad news.”
Eyes fully open, he rubbed his hands along his whisker-stubbled jawline. “Guess I’ve never really viewed it that way. For as long as I can remember, injustice has pissed me off. Be it some kid in my class who got away with lying about why his homework wasn’t turned in on time, or my brother pulling one of his stunts without a shred of repercussion, well…” He shrugged. “What can I say? Yes, it’s sad when people screw up, but they made their own mess. I’m only trying to clean it up.”
“I-is that what I am to you?” she quietly asked, not daring to meet his intense gaze. “Ben’s mess you’re cleaning?”
“Aw, Gabrielle…” Covering his face with his hands, he said, “We’ve been over and over this. I’ll admit, when I first agreed to do the whole Lamaze thing, it did have a familiar feel. Like the times I’d have to do Ben’s chores because he’d forgotten. But now that I’ve gotten to know you…” His words hung in the still air.
She looked up, momentarily startled when their gazes locked. Mouth dry, pulse oddly picking up speed, Gabby found herself not wanting him to finish his sentence. What if he admitted to thinking of her in terms of a friendly obligation? Although if he did, why would she care? She was resigned to the fact that for her baby to be born healthy, she’d have to swallow her pride and accept all the help she could get. But from Dane, she somehow wanted more. She didn’t want to be an item tagged on to his already lengthy to-do list.
Clearing his throat, he set the folders that were on his lap to the floor, and then leaned toward her, grasping her hand. With his index finger, he lightly stroked the top of her hand. The simple motion shimmered through her with unbearable heat and light. “Now that I’ve gotten to know you, I—” an odd laugh escaped him “—I find myself looking forward to coming home to see you each night. I see why Ben was attracted to you, Gabrielle. What I can’t for the life of me understand is how he so willingly let you go.”
His admission was so startling, his voice so hoarse with emotion, Gabby was momentarily stunned.
“Please don’t think that was some kind of pickup line, or that I’m coming on to you,” he said quickly. “I’m just saying I enjoy your company, and I-I hope that you enjoy mine.” He released her hand and then stood. “It’s late. You should be getting to bed.”
I’ve been in bed all day, Gabby wanted to scream. “We haven’t finished the movie.”
“It’s a five-day rental,” he said. “We’ll finish up tomorrow.” He leaned over and kissed the top of her head in a brotherly way. “Need anything before I lock up and hit the sack?”
“No, thank you,” she said, trying not to cry. What she needed was for Dane to see her as a woman. But then, was that really such a hot idea? She’d already been devastated by one Bocelli brother. What was up with this insane craving to get mixed up with another?
ALONE IN GABRIELLE’S GUEST room, his door safely shut behind him, Dane slowly exhaled. Making light of his accidental admission had been tough.
Dane had never claimed to be anywhere near perfect, but one thing he wouldn’t do was take his brother’s girl. That had been more Ben’s style, and Dane swore he’d never be that kind of man.
What kind are you?
Were Dane’s actions in caring for Gabrielle purely altruistic? Or, somewhere deep inside, was it about showing up Ben? Making Gabrielle want him over Ben.
Enough.
Above all, Dane prided himself on his keen sense of right and wrong, and no matter how much he was growing attached to Gabrielle, thinking of her in terms of anything more than friendship would be wrong.
THURSDAY NIGHT, AFTER THEY’D eaten one of Dane’s surprisingly tasty hamburger-cheesy-noodle concoctions, he asked, “How do you keep all of that straight?”
“What do you mean?” Gabby fished through the bed linens for the precious last strands of #743 magenta. Her needlework was going along nicely, but she had a problem when it came to losing embroidery floss and the occasional needle. Sure, craft-type needles weren’t all that sharp, but that didn’t make them hurt any less when she rolled over on them in the middle of the night!
“I mean,” he said from the comfy armchair at the head of her bed, “that night after night, I sit here, watching you lose all of your stuff. You need a system.”
Rolling her eyes before threading her needle, she said, “You need to mind your own business. My current system works just fine.”
“Whatever,” he said with a put-upon sigh, turning his attention back to the night’s Katharine Hepburn classic.
“You don’t have to get snippy,” she noted. “And, anyway, why do you even care?”
“I don’t. I was just making conversation. And for the record, seeing how I’ve turned my entire life upside down for you, everything you do has somehow become my business.”
“Okay, whoa.” Setting her project atop her belly, she asked, “Are you saying you resent having to spend all of this time with me? Because—”
“Stop putting words in my mouth. That’s not at all what I meant.” Tone soft, a faint smile tugging the corners of his mouth, he said, “We’re talking about your abysmal needlework habits. I’ve even foun
d threads stuck to the bottoms of your socks in the dirty clothes hamper. What happens when you run out of colors before you finish?”
Squeezing her eyes shut, she wished him to be gone when she reopened them. No such luck. “Why are you so mean?”
“How am I mean for pointing out the obvious?”
“You’re exasperating,” she said, not wanting to think of him handling her intimate laundry. Not that socks were—intimate, that is, but still…Gabby had been under the impression that Dane’s mother had been taking care of her laundry. “Don’t you have anything better to do than harass a defenseless pregnant woman?”
“AND THEN HE ACTUALLY HAD the nerve to complain that I’m not neat enough while working on my cross-stitch. Can you imagine?” Further emphasizing her outrage, Gabby folded her arms.
Olivia politely covered a yawn.
“Sorry I’m boring you,” Gabby snapped. “His demeanor is seriously annoying.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Grinning, Olivia gathered the remains of the fast-food salads she’d brought for Friday’s lunch. “Are you aware that the only thing you’ve talked about for the past forty minutes is Dane? How maddening he is, and annoying, and infuriating, and—”
“Okay, I get the hint.” Gabby reached for her embroidery hoop, catching a glimpse of Ben’s picture on the bedside table. “It’s just that I’ve been forced to be with Dane so much that he’s all I can think about.”
“Uh-huh.” Olivia crossed her arms and smiled.
“What?”
“I think you know what,” her supposed friend said with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “You’ve got a crush on your baby’s daddy’s big brother.”
“No way!” Gabby protested, hating the heat that flamed her cheeks. “Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said about how awful he is?”
“The guy is pretty much your own personal hunk of a manservant and you’re complaining?”
“It’s not that I’m complaining, per se, just that—”
“If you didn’t find fault with him, he’d be a little too perfect—unlike that loser brother of his?”
“Ben’s not a loser,” Gabby argued. “He’s just going through a rough patch. You know, like trying to find himself.”
“How can you lie there defending the creep? You’re carrying his child, and he abandoned you. His amazing brother is picking up the pieces of your life. Dane is the man you owe your allegiance to. If you’re having trouble seeing that, you’ve got a lot bigger problems than being stuck at home on bed rest.”
“I READ AN INTERESTING ARTICLE today,” Dane said Friday night. They’d just finished off a pizza, and as there was nothing good on TV, and he’d forgotten to run by the movie rental store, they had each immersed themselves in their own activities. While Gabrielle read the book she’d been working on for the past few days, he’d been going over case law—and hating every minute of it.
“Oh?” She glanced up. “What was it about?”
“A golden mummy mask owned by an Egyptian noblewoman was found in a storeroom at a St. Louis museum. Apparently, it’s been there since the fifties, and is pretty spectacular. Now the Egyptian government wants it back.”
Resting her book face-open on her stomach, she asked, “Did the article say how the museum acquired the piece?”
“That’s where the problem lies. The museum isn’t sure. Meanwhile, the Egyptians have detailed documentation of where the mask was discovered and cataloged.”
“Fascinating,” she said, eyes alight with an inner glow. “Stuff like that is so much fun to think about. Like Indiana Jones, only in real life. So was the mask stolen? Was it inadvertently slipped into a wrong shipment? Is it part of a larger mystery? You know, like a long-forgotten clue to some hidden global scandal?”
Her passion for the subject raised color in her cheeks, making her infinitely more attractive. It didn’t matter that her ponytail was crooked and messy. He didn’t care that she’d dribbled something red from her lunch down the front of her blue-and-white flannel pj’s. All that mattered was that for the moment, she was healthy and happy and giving him the best Friday night he’d had in years.
“Dane? You okay?”
“Sure,” he said, darting his gaze. “Just tired.”
“You don’t look tired, but deep in thought. What’s up? Plotting an adventure for us once this little guy finally arrives?” Grinning, she patted her belly.
Lips pressed tight, if only for a second, he indulged in the luxury of how a life shared with Gabrielle might be. Long talks and laughter and travel anywhere in the world her heart desired. “Did you and Ben talk about stuff like that? Taking off on a moment’s notice to some exotic locale?”
Nose wrinkled, she asked, “That was random. Why do you care?”
He shrugged. “No biggie. Just curious.”
In reality, he’d asked because it ate him alive, imagining Ben doing anything with Gabrielle. But most especially he hated knowing Ben had shared hundreds of intimate moments like this, only to throw them away. Had Gabrielle been Dane’s, he’d have treasured her.
“For the record,” she said, her expression taking on a wistful air, “no. Ben’s a lot of fun, but when it comes to anything remotely academic or deep, he checks out. Not that ancient mummy masks are a particularly deep subject, but you know what I mean.”
Boy, did he. “Being in some sense a small-business owner, you’re in a black-and-white world. How did you cope with Ben’s…how should I put this? Um, penchant for color?”
“When he was here, it never even occurred to me how ill-suited we really were. But now, with you…” She ducked her gaze. “Well, let’s just say you’ve opened my eyes to the fact that there’s a lot more important things to look for in a grown-up relationship than round-the-clock fun.”
Chapter Seven
Saturday afternoon, upon waking from a nap, Gabby was still mulling over a confusing mix of emotions. On the one hand, her conversation last night with Dane had been such a pleasure. They’d connected on an intellectual level in a way she and Ben never had. On the other hand, Gabby was stewing over Olivia’s blunt statement. The one about her owing her allegiance to Dane. She had a habit of cutting straight to the heart of any given matter, making Olivia much better suited for Dane than she was. Their razor-sharp legal minds would be great together. They could just ride off into the sunset, making one big happy legal family. Meanwhile, here she’d sit, alone in her bed for all of eternity.
Jealous of Olivia being more Dane’s type?
Her heart’s question only made her more confused. Yes, she was jealous! But not because she wanted him in a romantic sense. Did she?
Maybe she was being overly hard on both Dane and Olivia, but she couldn’t help it. Being two years pregnant and stuck on your back day after day tended to make a girl a little unreasonable!
And where was Dane? Last Saturday, they’d had a Scrabble marathon. The hateful creep had beaten her ten games to four. Still, the ones she’d won had been slaughters.
“Dane!” she called out.
No answer.
Her stomach growled. He’d promised grilled cheese and tomato soup for lunch. His mother had been scheduled for lunch, but switched to dinner because of a mix-up on her weekly hair appointment.
Sighing, Gabby switched off the cooking show she’d been watching. The Mexican fiesta casserole Chef Carole was preparing only made her more hungry.
Without watching TV, she didn’t feel like working on her embroidery, so she set that to the bedside table, carefully avoiding Ben’s smiling face.
She opened the romance novel she was three-quarters of the way through, but a few pages in, the hero and heroine shared a heated argument that resulted in an even hotter kiss. Frowning, Gabby marked her page, then set the book on her bedside pile—which was now thankfully tall enough that she couldn’t see Ben.
“Dane!” she called again.
Still no answer.
Which only made her feel worse. How had she grown so dependen
t on him? Not just in the physical sense, but to the point that she missed his company? She’d always enjoyed Ben’s company, but she also had never minded times when he hadn’t been around. He was always on, which had compelled her to match his level of intensity.
Tossing back the covers, she struggled to her feet and waddled to the bathroom. Her center of balance was no longer centered!
At the sink, washing her hands, she found a note from Dane taped to the mirror. Since she’d been asleep, he’d left to run a few errands.
Knowing for certain he wasn’t home made the house strangely quiet. Lonely. Once her son was born, at least she wouldn’t be completely on her own, but she’d still miss Dane’s presence when he returned to his own home. In her current frame of mind, the thought was too depressing to ponder.
Tottering back to bed, she pulled up the covers and promptly fell asleep.
“HEY, THERE, SLEEPING BEAUTY.”
Gabby slowly woke, only to wonder if she was dreaming. Dane stood alongside her, his hand stroking her hair.
“Time to wake up. You’ve been sleeping all day.”
“Since you abandoned me,” she said, trying not to pout, “it wasn’t as if I had anything better to do.” Like stare at the way his navy T-shirt hugged his chest.
“Aw, now, don’t be mad. I’m touched that you missed me, but I was only gone a few hours. Plus, my absence was for a good cause.”
“Where were you?”
“Working on a surprise for you.” He sat in the armchair next to her bed. He sighed. “It’s been a long time since I worked with my hands. It felt good, but tiring in a different way from my usual.”
“Huh? Tell me where you’ve been. All that handwork sounds a little kinky.” Plus, as long as he kept talking, maybe she’d be able to focus on his words rather than his handsome, square-jawed face. Or the way he smelled faintly of sweet pipe tobacco and cedar.
A Wedding For Baby (Baby Boom) Page 7
