by Alison Kent
No. Eden needed something else. Molly’s admonition registered in the only corner of his mind not focused on Eden. It was a very small corner. He drew Molly aside. “Molly, do me a favor.”
“Only if you stop scowling.”
Smiling weakly, he cast a covert glance at Eden. She rang up the same sale three times before getting it right. Shaking his head, he brought his gaze back to Molly. “Can you watch the shop for the last hour? Eden’s dead on her feet.”
Molly swept a concerned gaze over Eden and headed that way, clicking her tongue in a quick tsk-tsk. Like a five-star general, she took over by storm, coddling Eden with one arm draped across her shoulder.
“You hie yourself on up to bed, you hear? I’m finishing out the day for you.”
“I can’t ask you to do that,” Eden argued, though Jace read the want-to in her eyes.
“No one’s asking. I’m insisting. Think of those depending on you.” With a steady pressure, she guided Eden to the stairs. “You look to be on your last leg.”
Eden’s gaze flicked from the register to the milling customers. She shook her head. “No. I’m fine. Really. You and Jace both worry too much.”
She took a determined step toward the register and snagged one foot on the edge of a braided rag rug. Arms flailing, she stumbled forward toward the counter, a slow-motion disaster unfolding.
Jace sprang forward, hooked his hands beneath her arms and dragged her back against his body. Long seconds later, seconds spent separating their heartbeats, seconds spent steadying Eden while his emotional balance tumbled away, he let her go.
She pushed a fall of hair from her face and gave him a feeble smile. “My hero.”
“Eden, if you don’t take a care now, the next few months will be the death of you.” Molly narrowed tender, caring and insistent eyes Eden’s way.
Eden sighed, looked from Jace to Molly. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. Now scoot,” Molly ordered, sending her on her way with a pat on the bottom. She waved Jace away as well, ordering him to follow with no more than a frown.
He hung around long enough for Molly to settle in before heading for the stairs. Taking them two at a time, he scaled the distance from the first floor into the privacy of Eden’s rooms. He’d never been above the first floor and felt like an intruder.
The floorboards creaked beneath his weight as he made his way down the hall. A rectangle of light shone from the room at the end. Even before reaching it, he knew it would be the nursery. He stopped at the door, silently debating his next move.
Eden sat in the window seat, running one index finger down a single square pane, the screeching noise reflecting her distress. “You don’t have to hide in the hall, Morgan. I’m not going to bite your head off. Or dissolve into a puddle of tears.”
Jace exhaled long and slow. “That’s good to hear. Either one would make quite a mess and I don’t have a mop on me.”
She glanced over her shoulder, a lopsided attempt at a grin almost reaching her eyes before she turned her attention to the limb of a pecan tree bobbing against the window.
And then she sighed. “Has there been anyone in your life you never wanted to see again? Thought you’d never see again? But you look up and there he is? Standing right in front of you?”
He took a tentative step into the room. “So that’s what that was about. The couple in the shop. You thought it was your ex?”
Eden leaned her forehead against the glass, her reflected image a study in dejection. “The resemblance was amazing. Though it’s hard to think of him as my ex, when he was never really my current.”
“I’d wondered about that. Not that it was any of my business—”
“But you wondered anyway,” she said and smiled.
“Sure. I mean, you’re five months pregnant. Alone. And you have been for quite a while. I figure that whatever happened with your breakup, it had to do with the pregnancy.” He eased his weight down to the top of a wooden toy chest, taking as much care as he gently settled as he had with his words.
“It did. But in a very convoluted way.”
“I’m guessing you weren’t married?”
“No. I would’ve married him. In fact, I proposed to him.”
Why did his heart lurch at that? “And he said no?”
She turned on the window seat and leaned back against the glass. “It was after I found out that I was pregnant. Nate—that was his name. Nate and I had never talked of starting a family. Or of getting married. But he was a good man. We’d been together three years. And even though the pregnancy was an accident, I thought, you know, maybe this is a sign that it’s time to do something permanent with this relationship.”
“You loved him?”
“I did.” She nodded, shrugged. “Oh, he probably wasn’t the great passion of my life, but we were very comfortable together. I did a lot of traveling. And it was always nice to know he’d be there when I got home. He practiced law. In Manhattan. We were both so busy that the time we had together was spent enjoying the present. We never talked about the future.”
“Until you got pregnant.” Elbows on his knees, he steepled his fingers under his chin and waited.
“I set the whole romantic stage. The candles. The firelight. The music. I told him we were going to have a baby. I asked him to marry me.” A laugh, dry and brittle, erupted from her throat. “And that’s when he told me he was already married. That he’d been married for eleven years.”
Jace tightened his gut against the hot poker scorching a hole from his belly to his back. “What a bastard.”
Slowly she scooted around on the seat, lowered her feet to the floor and clutched the cushion at her sides. “The next four weeks were a whirlwind while I decided what to do. I wanted the baby more than anything. But I knew that my career wasn’t conducive to raising a child. My days went on forever, and I was rarely home.
“If I’d had a husband, it would’ve been different. But I didn’t. And if I’d stayed at the magazine, I would’ve needed a nanny and a housekeeper, and they would’ve been the ones raising my child. That wasn’t what I wanted. And I didn’t even know it until then.”
“The career change.”
“Exactly. How to combine my profession with single parenting? My father raised me alone.” She smiled, as if the memory brought her comfort. “And I can’t imagine growing up in a more loving home. But that’s the thing. He was home. For dinner every night, for homework. He was also at every fair and exhibition where I showed my designs. And he made sure everyone knew I was his daughter.”
She struggled to her feet, fists bolstering the small of her back. “I thought a lot about that. About growing up in a small town. I knew the pace would be slower. I knew it would give me more time with the baby. I didn’t know I was having babies until after I’d moved.”
“But?” Jace asked, knowing there was a big one hanging in the air.
“But it wasn’t the life I wanted.” She lifted a brow, met his gaze head on.
“And now?”
“I’m adjusting. And it’s getting easier. But I do miss New York. I so miss New York.”
“You think you’ll go back?”
“One day. Maybe. I’ll have to wait and see how things go with The Fig Leaf. And with the twins.” She pushed back her hair from her face and stepped closer. “Right now, though, only one thing matters.”
Jace looked up. “What’s that?”
“Food. I’m starving.”
A cleansing sort of laughter erupted deep in his soul, and he bowed his head only to have it land on her stomach. Both froze for the timeless second it took him to make up his mind.
He raised his head a few inches, far enough and long enough to replace his forehead with his hands, molding his palms to her taut form.
“It’s absolutely amazing that two people are in there.” Jace cleared his throat. Twice. “Lives dependent on you for survival.”
Eden laid trembling hands over his. “It’s eno
ugh to scare the spit out of me.”
He felt her fear in her voice and her hands. “Hey, you only have to be a first-time parent once.”
“Oh, well, that really helps.” A crooked but bona fide smile doused the despondency in her eyes.
He answered with a relieved grin of his own. “My degree’s in architecture, not psychology.”
“You do okay, doctor.”
“Remind me to send you a bill,” Jace said just as he felt a quick kick centered mid-palm. Another followed close behind. Incredulity spawned his wide- eyed question: “Did you feel that?”
“I feel it twenty-four hours a day. Right now I think someone’s telling me they’re hungry.”
He slapped his palms on his thighs. “Then let’s go.”
“Where?” She stepped back, giving him room enough to stand.
“Tonight I’m going to feed you.”
“I hate to tell you this, Morgan, but you’ve eaten me out of house and home. There’s nothing downstairs but oatmeal, eggs and milk, and I’m in no mood to grocery shop.”
“Who said anything about shopping? Or eating here, for that matter?”
“You’re taking me out?” At his nod, her eyes dimmed like a flickering bulb. “I can’t go anywhere looking like this.”
“Like what?” He’d never understand women.
Eden pouted. “I’m fat, frazzled and frumpy.”
Jace’s sigh settled around them with a patience usually spent on hard-to-plane boards. “The frazzled is why I’m taking you out. The fat is baby, not you. The frumpy?”
He poured every ounce of his serious-as-a-heart-attack attraction down the length of her body. He hoped it was enough to dispel her lingering doubts because he was taking a big leap beyond the bounds of the friendship he’d swore to keep casual.
“If frumpy means I want to pull you under me, belly or no, and show you just what our bodies were meant for, then, woman, you’ve got a major case.”
“Oh, God, Jace. Don’t tease me.”
Jace slid his hands along her waist and pulled her round front against his flat belly as tight as geometry would allow. “Who’s teasing?”
She leaned back and fixed him with a wild-eyed look, one that told him all he needed to know about how close she was to falling off an emotional precipice.
“Then why did you kiss me like you meant it, then walk away like I was nothing?”
EDEN CLOSED HER EYES, wanting to bite her tongue even more than she wanted an honest answer. Hugging herself tightly, she walked to the window, searching for serenity in the expansive view outside.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she whispered and shook her head, wishing he’d go away. She’d opened a Pandora’s box that she should’ve padlocked weeks ago.
He took a step closer, the tread of his steps echoing in the nearly empty room. “Ah. Nothing. The word of the day.”
“Never mind.” She closed her eyes but found the lack of sight heightened other senses. The lightest trace of Chloe’s perfume mixed with baby powder, floor wax, and paint It should have been enough to mask the scent of Jace.
Eden peered through the window and focused on a single bud sprouting from the pecan tree limb six inches from the glass. Safe and simple, one step at a time. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Talk about what?”
“You. Me. Everything.” She grimaced. Biting her tongue wasn’t enough. She needed a chain saw.
“Is that what this is about? You and me?”
His voice came inches from her ear. His fingers settled on her shoulder, the touch gentle, light and so very welcome.
Eden jerked away. There was no you and me. No matter how hard she might wish it. “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw him rake his hair back in frustration, then settle his hands on the waist of his low-riding jeans. “No way, Eden. You always want to talk.”
“Not this time.”
He moved in, the hunter for the kill. “You want to talk about Chloe’s problems, my problems. Now maybe we’d better talk about yours.”
She lifted her chin. “I don’t have a problem.”
“Wrong. You have a big one. We both have a big one.”
“When did I become your business?” She sounded incredibly bitchy, but she didn’t care. She wanted him to leave. Now. “And when did you become part of any problem I might have?”
“When you insisted we become friends. And the minute you linked you and me together.”
“The link was unintentional, believe me.” She made a sound of disgust, one designed to drive him away.
“Good. I wouldn’t want there to be any mistake.”
“The only mistake that’s been made here was when I let you and Molly run me upstairs.” She took a retreating step. “I’m going back to the shop.”
“Eden, Molly has everything under control. If another crisis comes up, she knows where to find you.”
“Crisis? What crisis?” Now she sounded like a hysterical old woman. Why wouldn’t he just go away?
“Tell me the truth, Eden. Is being reminded of your ex what’s got you upset?” Jace fingered a lock of her hair. “Or is it the fact that I kissed you?”
She pulled her hair from his hand. “Neither one. And I told you, I don’t want to talk about it.”
He placed a forceful hand on each shoulder and spun her around. She refused to look up. But when she looked down, all she saw were the differences in their bodies, the differences that would always keep them apart.
“That night, Eden. When I kissed you. Did you want me to stay? Did you want me to bring you upstairs, slip off the rest of your clothes, and slide my body inside yours? Is that what you wanted?”
His words seduced her, making it hard to tell which would get her into more trouble, the truth or a lie? He took a deep breath, his stomach moving over hers as he did. He slid his hands from her shoulders to her neck and caressed her throat with the pads of his thumbs. She swallowed hard, needing his touch more than air to breathe and hating herself for the weakness.
He lifted her chin with his fist. “That night you needed a friend. Did you want me as a lover, too? I can be one or the other. I can’t be both. You want me to scratch your itch?” He arched one wicked brow. “Fine. Let’s go do it. But don’t expect any more out of the deal.”
She steadfastly met his gaze. He’d banked the fire in his eyes, but renegade sparks flickered just the same. She’d have taken him for her lover in an instant, if the act wouldn’t destroy her only true friendship.
“I haven’t had a friend in a long time, Eden. What we’ve started building here, I think I really need. And I never would’ve realized it if you hadn’t pushed the way you did.” He leaned forward. His cool, dry lips brushed her brow. “Just don’t push me any harder. Because I’m damn sure about ready to take whatever else you’ll offer.”
He let her go then, and walked to the door. With his hand on the knob, he stopped. “I’ll be back at six. I owe the three of you a dinner. And friends don’t go back on their word.”
EDEN WAITED UNTIL SHE heard Jace hit the bottom stair before leaving the nursery. Chloe had made spectacular progress on the mural. The fairies and elves and magical winged creatures possessed such life, Eden wanted to cast off her world for the one portrayed on the wall. Maybe there her restless mind could find answers.
She stopped in the open living area at the top of the stairs and brushed her fingertips over the frame of her loom. When he finally got to talking, Jace just didn’t know when to shut up. But she knew he was right. There couldn’t be anything but friendship between them. And wasn’t that what she wanted?
A friend? A willing ear? Yes, Jace had heard. He’d even listened. But somewhere between kitchen cabinets and their kiss, she’d started thinking of him as more. A dangerous line of thought when she considered that neither one of them wanted involvement.
In the bathroom, she pulled aside the showe
r curtain of blossoms and ferns and turned the faucet to hot. With a splash of bath oil, the scent of apricots bloomed in the air. Eden stripped, then turned and stared at her reflection in the mirror mounted on the back of the door.
What did Jace see when he looked at her? True, at this moment, she resembled a cow. A small cow, granted. But her legs were still trim. She’d only put on about ten pounds, and Lord knew most of that had to be babies. And she’d definitely have a bustline to die for when she was through with all this.
She caressed her collarbone, ran one finger over the swell of a breast and remembered the contrast of Jace’s dark head against ivory lace and skin. Shivering with sensation, she climbed into the tub, hoping to wash away his feel, hoping to lose his scent in the steam. Neither happened. Jace was permanently imprinted on all of her senses.
Chin high in the bubbles, she propped her toes on the end of the tub. Water sluiced over her and lapped at her skin while she measured the mound of her belly with her palms.
What would it be like to carry Jace’s child? To witness the wonder she’d seen in his eyes and know he’d had a part in creating this life? What would it be like to love him? To take him inside her body? To become one with a man she wanted the way she wanted Jace?
Soapy water slid over her body like a lover’s caress sweeping a silken path between her legs. Why was she torturing herself with this erotic fantasy? Jace had made his views on life perfectly clear. He intended to remain her friend and nothing more. He wanted no part of her family.
Benjamin and Bethany were her number one priority. And like she’d told Chloe, sex was wonderful, but not without commitment. And not without responsibility. Jace wanted neither. So why did the thought of his touch play such wicked games in her imagination?
Why did she fantasize about sliding her hand through the dark hair on his chest? Lying beneath him, feeling the muscles in his thighs tighten against hers. Urging him deep inside her body. Aching for release.
Simple. She had the hots for Jace Morgan. But she wasn’t going to do a damned thing about it. She’d go to dinner with her friend, spend a quiet evening with her friend, and when her friend finished his job, she never wanted to see him again.
