Nobody's Baby but Mine (35 page)

“True, but Ethan’s had a lifelong attraction to women with sin in their blood. It’s sort of his tragic flaw.”

“He can’t have missed the fact that I’m pregnant.”

“He’ll keep his mouth shut if I ask him to.”

She sighed, giving up her pout. “I’m going to have to go through with this, aren’t I?”

He cupped her cheek and gently stroked his thumb along her jaw. “I’m pretty sure you passed the point of no return when you hit that top step.”

“I suppose.”

“But if you don’t mind, since you’ve waited this long, hold out for just a few seconds more so I can open those curtains the rest of the way and get more light in here.”

She sighed as he made his way to the window. “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”

“Nope.” He tugged on the cord, letting the bright early-afternoon sunlight flood into the room.

“What about Ethan?”

“My brother’s no fool. He’s long gone by now.”

“You take off your clothes first.”

“No way. You’ve seen me naked dozens of times. It’s my turn.”

“If you think I’m going to be undressed while you lie there fully clothed . . .”

“That’s exactly what I think.” He walked over to her bed and stacked the pillows against the headboard. Then he kicked off his shoes and stretched out, crossing his arms behind his head like someone about to enjoy a good movie.

She was torn between amusement and irritation. “What if I’ve changed my mind?”

“We both know you’ve got too much pride to back off now. Tell me if you want me to close my eyes.”

“As if you would.” Why had she made such a big deal out of this? For a brilliant woman, she was a complete idiot. Damn him anyway. Why hadn’t he just pulled that robe out of her hands and put an end to all this? But, no. That was too easy. Instead, he lay there with the glint of challenge in those gray eyes, and she knew he was testing her mettle. Her irritation grew. This was
his
test, not hers. He was the one who had something to prove, and it was time to give him his chance.

She shut her eyes and dropped the robe.

Dead silence.

A dozen thoughts ran through her mind, all of them horrible: he hated her body, he’d fainted from the sight of her hips, her pregnant belly repulsed him.

The last thought lit the fuse to her temper. He was a
worm
! Lower than a worm! What kind of man was repulsed by the body of the woman carrying his child? He was the lowest form of life on earth.

Her eyes flew open. “I knew it! I knew you’d hate my body!” She slammed her hands on her hips, marched over to the bed, and glared down at him. “Well, for your information, mister, all those cute little sex kittens in your past might have had perfect bodies, but they don’t know a lepton from a proton, and if you think that I’m going to stand here and let you judge me by the size of my hips and because my belly’s not flat, then you’re in for a rude awakening.” She jabbed her finger at him. “This is the way a grown woman looks, buster! This body was designed by God to be functional, not to be stared at by some hormonally imbalanced jock who can only get aroused by women who still own Barbie dolls!”

“Damn. Now I’ve got to gag you.” With one swift motion, he pulled her down on the bed, rolled on top of her, and covered her lips with his own.

His kiss was deep and fierce. It started at her mouth, then traveled on to her breasts, her belly, the backs of her knees, with several thrilling stops in between. Her irritation faded as need took its place.

She wasn’t certain when he got rid of his own clothes because she quickly lost herself in the pleasures of feeling that strong, solid body beneath her hands and lips. For a man of action, he’d always been a leisurely lover, and today was no exception. As the bright sunlight pooled over their bodies, he satisfied his curiosity by exploring every inch of her, turning her this way and that, across the light, toward the light until she begged him.

“Please . . . I can’t take any more.”

He nuzzled her breast with his lips and his husky breath fell hot over her damp skin. “You’re going to have to take a lot more before we’re through.”

She punished him for his teasing with a torment of her own, using her mouth on him in the way she knew he loved, but the deep, moist taking also served to inflame her own need, so that when he finally reached his limit, she had also reached hers. He covered her with his body and entered her. She immediately climaxed.

“Now see what you’ve done,” she complained when she came back to earth.

His eyes were the deep gray of a spring thunderstorm, his voice smoky with the most delicious sort of menace as he pushed himself deep inside her. “Poor honey. I guess I’ll have to start all over again with you.”

“I’m not interested anymore,” she lied.

“Then close your eyes and think about something else ’til I’m done.”

She laughed and he kissed her, and in no time at all they were lost in each other. She had never felt so free. In shedding her clothes, she had also shed the last of her defenses.

“I love you,” she whispered, as he entered her. “I love you so much.”

He kissed her lips as if he were sipping her words. “Sweet . . . My sweet. So beautiful . . .”

Their bodies found a rhythm as ancient as time, and they climbed together through every barrier that separated them. As he loved her with his body, she knew with a fierce certainty that he also loved her with his heart. It could be no other way, and the knowledge catapulted her over the top. Together, they touched creation.

They spent the next few hours in various states of undress. He allowed her to wear a pair of powder blue sandals, but nothing else. She allowed him to wear his black bath towel, but insisted he keep it draped around his neck.

They ate a late lunch in bed, where they played sexual games with the juicy slices of an orange. Afterward, as they showered together, she knelt before him with the water pouring over them and loved him until they both lost control.

They were insatiable. She felt as if she’d been created only to please this man and, in turn, take pleasure only from him. She had never been so well loved, so certain of her powers as a woman. She felt brilliant and strong, soft and giving, utterly fulfilled, and although he hadn’t spoken the words, she knew in the very center of her being that he loved her. Such intensity of emotion couldn’t be coming only from her.

He postponed leaving until he had barely enough time to get to the airport. As the Jeep flew down the driveway, she smiled and hugged herself.

Everything was going to be all right.

The best country western band in Telarosa, Texas, played a lively two-step, but Cal turned down invitations to dance from a Dallas Cowboy cheerleader and a knockout Austin socialite. He was a pretty good dancer, but tonight he wasn’t in the mood, and not just because he’d played a semilousy round of golf in the tournament that day. Depression had settled on him as thick and dark as mountain midnight.

Part of the reason for his depression sidled up next to him, looking a lot more cheerful than a man who’d given up football should ever look. A blond-haired baby girl, who showed every sign of being a future mankiller, snuggled in the crook of his arm, occupying the same space all those game balls used to take up. As far as Cal could tell, the only times Wendy Susan Denton hadn’t been glued in her daddy’s arm were when Bobby Tom had been swinging a golf club or letting her mother nurse her.

“Did Gracie show you the new addition we put on the house?” Bobby Tom Denton said. “With the baby and everything, we decided we wanted more room. Plus, ever since Gracie was elected mayor of Telarosa, she’s needed a home office.”

“Gracie showed me, B.T.” Cal glanced around him, looking for an escape route, but he couldn’t find one. It occurred to him that having spent a few minutes alone with B.T.’s wife, Gracie Snow Denton, had been one of the few pleasures of this weekend. At the time, Bobby Tom had been charming sports’ reporters and carrying Wendy around, so Cal hadn’t been forced to look at that delicate wiggling bundle and see his own future.

To his surprise, Cal liked Wendy’s mom a lot, even though Mayor Gracie wasn’t the type of woman anybody ever figured a legend like Bobby Tom would marry. He’d always hung around with gorgeous bombshells, while Gracie was pretty much a cute BB. She sure was nice, though. Straightforward and genuinely caring about people. Sort of like the Professor, although she didn’t have the Professor’s habit of fading out in the middle of a conversation to ponder some theory only she and a dozen other people on the planet could possibly understand.

“Gracie and I sure had ourselves some fun designing the new addition on the house.” Bobby Tom grinned and pushed his Stetson back on his head. Cal decided Bobby Tom could give Ethan a few lessons when it came to being movie-star handsome, although B.T. had more character lines in his face than the reverend. Still, he was a good-looking son of a gun.

“And did she tell you about the brick street I bought from that town in West Texas? Gracie found out they were tearing it up to put in asphalt, so I went over there and made a deal with them for it. Nothin’ like used brick for beauty. Be sure you take a look at the back of the house and see what we did with it.”

Bobby Tom went on about antique brick and wide-plank flooring as if they were the most important things in the world, while the baby nestled blissfully in the crook of his arm sucking her fists and making goo-goo eyes at her adoring papa. Cal felt as if he were suffocating to death.

Just two hours earlier, Cal had overheard a conversation the great wide receiver was having with Phoebe Calebow, the Stars’ owner, about
breast-feeding
! It seemed B.T. wasn’t sure Gracie was
doing it
right. He didn’t think she was taking it
seriously
enough. Bobby Tom, who’d never taken anything but football seriously, had acted as if breast-feeding a baby was the most important topic in the world!

Even now, the memory made Cal start to sweat. All this time Cal had figured Bobby Tom was just putting on a front, pretending everything was wonderful in his life, but now he knew Bobby Tom
believed
it. He didn’t seem to realize anything was wrong. The fact that the greatest wide-out in the history of pro ball had turned into a man who was centering his life around a wife and a baby and wideplank flooring was horrifying! Never in a million years would Cal have thought that the legendary Bobby Tom Denton could have forgotten who he was, but that’s exactly what had happened.

To his relief, Gracie came up and drew Bobby Tom away. Just before they walked off, Cal saw the look of utter contentment on his face as he gazed down at his wife, and it felt like a kick delivered to his very own stomach.

He finished off his beer and tried to tell himself he’d never once looked at the Professor like that, but the thing was, he couldn’t be sure. The Professor’d been turning him inside out lately, and who knew what kind of goofy expression he had on his face when he was near her.

If only she hadn’t told him she loved him, he might not feel so panicky. Why did she have to say those words? At first when she’d said them, he’d felt kind of good about it. There was something satisfying about winning the approval of a woman as smart and funny and sweet as the Professor. But that insanity had vanished when he’d hit Telarosa and run head-on into Bobby Tom Denton’s life after football.

Bobby Tom might be happy with all this permanency crap, but Cal knew he couldn’t ever be. There was nothing waiting for him on the other side of playing ball, no charity foundation to run, no honest work he could care about, nothing that would let him hold up his head like a man should. And that, he admitted to himself, was the crux of it.

How could a man be a man without honest work? Bobby Tom had the Denton Foundation, but Cal didn’t have B.T.’s talent for making money multiply. Instead, he pretty much let it sit around in a few accounts here and there and pick up interest. Cal didn’t have any worthy life waiting for him on the other side of the goal line. All the other side of the goal line held for him was exactly nothing.

It also held Jane, and yesterday afternoon when he’d said good-bye to her, he’d known she was no longer thinking about the short term like he was. She was thinking about wide-plank flooring and monogrammed bath towels and where they should settle down when they were old. But he wasn’t even close to being ready for that, and he didn’t want her telling him she loved him! Next thing, she’d be asking him to look at paint chips and pick out wall-to-wall carpeting. Now that she’d said the words, she was going to expect him to do something about it, and he wasn’t ready for that. Not yet. Not when the only worthy work he knew how to do was throw a football. Not now when he was facing the toughest season of his life.

While Cal was playing golf in Texas, Jane took long walks up the mountain and daydreamed about the future. She considered places they might live and ways she could rearrange her schedule so she could occasionally go on road trips with him. On Sunday afternoon she pulled the ugly rose metallic wallpaper from the walls of the breakfast nook and made a pot of homemade chicken noodle soup.

When she awakened on Monday morning to the sound of the shower, she realized Cal had returned some time after she’d fallen asleep last night and was disappointed that he hadn’t slipped into bed with her. In the past few weeks she’d gotten into the habit of keeping him company while he shaved, but the bathroom door remained firmly shut, and it wasn’t until she made her way to the kitchen for breakfast that she finally met up with him.

“Welcome home.” She spoke softly and waited for that moment he would take her in his arms. Instead, he muttered something unintelligible.

“How was your golf game?” she asked.

“Crap.”

That explained his bad mood.

He carried his cereal bowl over to the sink and splashed it full of water. As he turned, he stabbed one finger toward the bare walls of the breakfast nook where she’d stripped off the wallpaper. “I don’t like coming home and finding my house torn apart.”