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“Did he know about the foster homes?” he asked again. “Did he know how your mother died? How completely alone you felt when you realized her death made you an orphan? Did he know how much you looked forward to the monthly visits you were allowed with your stepsister, because she was the only family you had left?” He shook his head, then answered his own questions. “Of course he didn’t know because you never told him.”
“I didn’t think it was relevant,” she said.
“Or maybe you’re more wary of commitment than I am. You say you’re holding out for love, but maybe that’s just an excuse to be alone because you’re too afraid of being hurt again to let anyone get that close.”
“I didn’t know you got a psych degree along with your MBA.”
The dripping sarcasm in her voice proved that he’d made his point. He only regretted that he’d hurt her in the process.
“I don’t need a pysch degree because I know you,” he reminded her gently.
She sighed. “Okay. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m as much a coward as you are a commitment-phobe. Which suggests to me that a marriage between us would be doomed from the start.”
“Except that we’re also both stubborn and determined,” he reminded her. “If we wanted to, we could make it work.”
She set the spoon down, looked up at him and he saw the conviction in her deep blue eyes. “I remember what kind of marriage my parents had, how much they loved each other. I was only eight when my dad died but I remember how happy they were together.
“When my mother married Ken, I knew right away it was different. She was on her own with me, he was on his own with Laurie. They married to give us—me and Laurie—a family, but neither of them was ever really happy.”
“That doesn’t mean we couldn’t be,” he persisted.
“If I get married, I want it to be because someone wants to be with me, not because I’m carrying his child.”
“I do want to be with you, Tess. I want us both to be there for our baby. I don’t know how this love thing works. I’m not even sure I believe it exists—not love of the happily-ever-after variety, anyway. But I want this baby to know he has two parents who will always be there for him, and the best way to ensure that is by getting married.”
She placed a hand over her chest. “I think that’s the most romantic proposal I’ve heard yet.”
He felt the frustration building inside him. “Is that what you want—romance?” he demanded. “Would it make a difference if I filled the room with flowers and soft music and candlelight?”
“No,” she said again and shook her head. “Nothing is going to make a difference because we both know it would be worse for our child to live in a loveless home than to have two parents who never married.”
“We could make a marriage work, Tess.”
“Do you really want to take that chance? Do you want our child to find himself in the middle of a custody battle if it doesn’t?”
“No, I don’t,” he admitted, understanding that she was only thinking about what he and his brother had gone through. “But that wouldn’t happen because we would always do what was best for our child.”
“That’s why I want to work out the details of custody and access now.”
“I don’t want access,” he said stubbornly. “I want my child to know he’s an important part of my life every day, not just on alternate weekends.”
“Is this about Charlene walking out on you?”
She never referred to the woman who’d given birth to him as his mother, because she felt—as he did—that Grace, his father’s second wife, was more of a mother to him than Charlene had ever been.
“This is about you and me and our baby,” he insisted.
But Tess—being Tess—didn’t accept his denial. She reached across the table and laid her hand on top of his.
“Charlene couldn’t handle the responsibility of having children,” she said. “But you’ve made it clear that you want to be a part of our baby’s life, and I would never stand in the way of that.”
He turned his hand over, laced his fingers with hers. Her hand was so small inside his and yet he drew comfort and strength from her presence, gained a measure of peace from her understanding. She knew him better than anyone, she understood his hopes and fears and she was always there for him. It was the kind of unconditional acceptance he’d never been sure of with any other woman, and yet another reason he believed they would make a marriage work.
But she was holding out for love, and as much as he cared about her, that wasn’t something he could give her. If he could love anyone, he wanted to believe it would be Tess. But he didn’t have it in him. And he wouldn’t lie to her—he wouldn’t use the words she wanted to hear to get what he wanted. Or maybe he just knew better than to even try because Tess would see right through him.
She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’re going to be a wonderful daddy, Craig.”
“Don’t you mean part-time daddy?” He hated to think about missing a single day of his child’s life. He’d been five years old when his parents split up, but he remembered the feeling of loss, the sense of rejection when his mother walked out on them.
It had been months later before Charlene Richmond had decided she wanted to share custody of her children—or maybe she finally realized that by having them live with her part-time, she could get significant financial support from her husband. And the next few years had been a constant shuffle from one house to the other for Craig and his brother, Gage, the only consistent presence in their life being the nanny their father had hired and who accompanied them from place to place. Because as much as Charlene claimed she wanted to spend time with her sons, she was content to let the nanny deal with their day-to-day needs and, in fact, rarely interacted with them during their visits.
Then, one day when they showed up, she just wasn’t there. All she’d left was a note saying that she was getting married and moving out of the country and was, therefore, relinquishing full custody to the boys’ father.
At first, Craig had been relieved—the fighting would finally stop and he and Gage would finally be able to settle in one place. But the relief had soon been replaced by a niggling fear that his father might decide to go away, too. That no one loved him enough to stand by him.
He wouldn’t let his child feel the same way.
As much as Tess understood Craig’s reasons for wanting to get married, she wasn’t willing to sacrifice what was left of their friendship and give up her own dreams for a marriage of convenience she believed was destined to fail.
But when he looked at her as he was looking at her now, with such intensity and determination, she could feel her resolve weakening. Then he stroked his thumb over her skin and she felt a frisson of awareness skate up her arm and warmth spread through her body.
She tried to pull her hand away, knowing that if she had any hopes of maintaining a clear perspective on things, she couldn’t allow him to touch her. But Craig held firm.
“I’ve tried not to pressure you—”
She almost laughed at the absurdity of the statement as she felt the pressure closing in on her from all sides.
“—but you can’t keep your pregnancy a secret forever. Let’s go away somewhere and get married before the speculation begins.”
And despite all her reasoning and common sense she actually found herself tempted by the idea. Because the thought of having this baby on her own, of being—if not solely, at least primarily—responsible for its happiness and well-being, terrified her. But she’d never been the type to balk at a challenge or take the easy way out and she wasn’t going to do so now just because she was scared.
She carefully withdrew her hand from his grasp. “I can’t marry you, Craig.”
“Think about this logically,” he said. “We’ve known each other for years. What we have between us—friendship, trust, respect—they’re more important than love. And more enduring. There’s no reason for a marriage between us not to work.”
She didn’t buy his argument. Yes, friendship, trust and respect were important, but she wouldn’t enter into a marriage without love. “Look at your parents. Your dad and Grace,” she amended. “It’s obvious to anyone who sees them together that they love one another. Do you really want to settle for less than that?”
“I would never think of marrying you as settling,” he said.
He sounded so sincere and was looking at her with such earnestness in his dark eyes that Tess almost believed him. In her heart, she wanted to believe him. But her disastrous experience with Roger had made her wary. And while she’d known Craig a lot longer than she’d known Roger, so much had changed between them in the last few weeks that she wasn’t sure she really knew him at all anymore.
At work she was a confident, competent professional but that was because she’d spent years studying manuals and mastering computer code. There was no such training to succeed at relationships and she felt at a distinct disadvantage when it came to the games that men and women played.
Craig, on the other hand, had dated more women than she could count—beautiful, sophisticated women. He would never be happy with someone like her and she’d be deluding herself if she believed otherwise for a single moment.
Tess sighed and pushed away from the table. She crossed over to the window, looked out at the brilliant array of stars scattered across the sky. No, there was no way she could marry Craig.
“You might not think of it that way now,” she said. “But you’d eventually start to resent me, and the baby, for putting you in this position.”
And for Tess, the thought of losing Craig’s friendship and support was far worse than the prospect of raising a child on her own.
He didn’t say anything for a minute and she let herself hope he was actually considering what she’d said. She didn’t hear him leave the table, wasn’t aware that he was behind her until he put his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her around to face him.
She met his gaze evenly, almost defiantly. She knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t easily dissuaded from something he wanted, but she could be equally stubborn. And there was no way she was going to further jeopardize their friendship by marrying him. Her mom and Ken had been friends before they married and they’d had nothing left when their marriage had fallen apart. Tess refused to let that happen. Craig could use whatever arguments he wanted, she wasn’t going to change her mind.
But his response wasn’t at all what she expected. He didn’t argue or plead or use any of the other tactics she was confident she could handle. Instead, he lowered his head and he kissed her.
At first, she was too stunned to react. And then, as his lips continued to move over hers, soft but firm, strong yet coaxing, she simply melted.
He slid his fingers into her hair and tipped her head back to deepen the kiss. She opened for him willingly, all thoughts of resistance gone. Whether it was the pregnancy hormones running rampant through her system or her new awareness of Craig as a man, she had no desire to be anywhere but in his arms.
She shivered as his fingers massaged her scalp, moaned as his tongue tangled with hers. Somewhere, in the back recesses of her mind, she knew she should end this kiss. She shouldn’t allow this to happen but she was powerless to stop the desire that flowed hot and thick through her system. She wanted this—she wanted Craig—more than she’d ever thought possible.
He stroked his hands down her back, tugged the blouse from the waistband of her slacks, and she trembled with anticipation. Then his hands were on her skin and she could no longer think. She could only feel and she loved the way it felt to be touched by him, to touch him. She ran her hands up his chest, found the buttons at the front of his shirt and quickly worked them free.
He slid an arm behind her knees and scooped her up, cradling her against his chest as his lips continued their sensual assault. She’d never been swept off her feet before—literally or figuratively—and if she let herself think about it she might worry that Craig was her first on both counts and that it felt so completely right.
He carried her into the living room, laid her down gently on the soft leather sofa and levered himself down beside her. Their bodies were aligned, their legs entwined, on the narrow couch. She could feel the evidence of his arousal against her belly and wriggled her hips to position him between her thighs.
Her blouse was undone now, too, and he slid the garment over her shoulders, letting it drop to the ground. Then he shifted their bodies so that she was lying beneath him and dipped his head to nuzzle her throat, the scrape of his jaw against her tender skin sending deliciously erotic tingles through her body.
His lips moved lower, caressing the swell of her breasts above the lacy cups of her bra. She felt her nipples tighten, the heat spread through her body. As if in response to an unspoken request, he flicked his tongue over the aching peak, then closed his teeth over the thin fabric. Tess gasped and thrust her hips upward. Impatiently Craig pushed the strap off her shoulder and took her nipple in his mouth. He manipulated the peak, tasting, teasing, then he suckled hard on the breast, thrusting it against the roof of his mouth with his tongue. She bit down on her lip to keep from crying out as she rocked her hips against him, aching for the fulfillment of his lovemaking.
“Let me make love with you, Tess.”
His words paralleled her thoughts, proving they were—if at odds over everything else—at least in synch in their desire for one another.
She gripped his shoulders with trembling hands. “Yes.”
He undid the button of her slacks, slid the zipper down. His fingers found the wet heat inside her and she almost flew apart right then.
“Let me remind you how good we are together,” he whispered the words against her lips as his hands continued to tease and torment her. “Let me show you how wonderful it would be to make love every night if we got married.”
It took a minute for his words to penetrate through the fog that surrounded Tess’s brain. When they did, the heat flowing through her veins suddenly chilled.
“What…” She had to pause for breath, forced herself to ignore the traitorous demands of her body that insisted his words didn’t matter. “What did you say?”
He leaned forward again and brushed his lips against hers, softly coaxing. “I said I want to make love with you.”
She wanted to melt against him, to lean into the kiss, to go back to where she’d been before she’d heard the words that had doused her own desire more effectively than an icy rain. “Why?”
He smiled, that slow, sexy smile that made her insides all trembly and weak. “I thought that was obvious.”
“Is it?” She felt her cheeks flush but wouldn’t allow herself to be distracted by his easy charm. Not again.
Instead, she pushed herself up and scrambled off of the couch. She found her discarded top and shoved her arms through the sleeves, turning her back on him to fasten the buttons and zip up her slacks. It wasn’t about modesty so much as hiding the hurt she was afraid he’d see in her eyes when she spoke her next words. “Or was this part of your plan to convince me to marry you?”
She heard him sigh. “I didn’t plan this at all, Tess, things just got out of control. But to be perfectly honest, I think the attraction between us is further proof that our marriage would succeed.”
She turned back to him, confident that any residual hurt would be shrouded by the anger that was beginning to boil inside her. “We should get married because we’re good in bed together?”
He stood up and took a step toward her. “We’re a lot better than good, but that’s only one factor.”
“That’s what this was to you?” She impatiently brushed away the tears that spilled onto her cheeks. “A factor?”
“Of course not,” he denied.
But she knew him well enough to recognize the guilt that flickered in his eyes. Tess straightened her shirt.
“Go to hell, and take your proposal with you.”
Chapter Four
Tess wasn’t really surprised that she didn’t hear from Craig through the following week, but she was sorry. He’d been the one person she’d always felt she could count on and she’d screwed it up by, well, screwing him. It was crude but true. Have sex with a guy once and it changed everything. And now, when she needed his support more than ever, he was conspicuously absent from her life.
More than a month had passed since she’d taken the home pregnancy test and though she’d scheduled her first prenatal appointment, she still didn’t know what was the best thing to do for her baby. What she did know was that she’d drive herself insane if she continued to stare at the same four walls inside her apartment. So Saturday morning, with no destination in mind, she climbed in her Saturn coupe and drove. When she found herself in the west end of town, she decided to drop in on her sister.
Technically, Laurie was Tess’s stepsister but neither of them had any biological siblings and the relationship they’d developed over the years was as strong as any made by blood. Although the marriage between their respective parents hadn’t worked out, the girls had stayed in touch after the divorce. Laurie was the only other person Tess could imagine confiding in about her current situation, and right now she desperately needed to confide in someone.
“It’s not even 10:00 a.m.,” Laurie complained as she pulled open the front door.
Tess held up the tray of coffee and the box of doughnuts. “I brought breakfast.”
Laurie stepped away from the door and Tess followed her into the kitchen. She set the doughnuts and coffee on the table, then scooped ten-week-old Devin out of his infant carrier. She always loved spending time with her sister’s kids, had always dreamed of having a baby of her own someday. Now that day was on the horizon.
“I can’t believe how much he’s grown.” Her voice was filled with awe as she stared at the chubby infant cradled in her arms.
Laurie smiled. “He’s gained five pounds already.”
“Is that normal?” she asked, struck once again by how little she knew about babies, how much she needed to learn.
“The doctor likes to see newborns gain at least a pound a month, so he’s a little ahead of schedule.”
She brushed a kiss on the soft, downy head, breathed in his soft, baby scent. “Already an overachiever, aren’t you?”
The baby, of course, didn’t respond.
But then his big sister wandered into the kitchen.
“Juice, mommy.” Two-year-old Becca waved a plastic cup at her mother.
“Please,” Laurie told her, taking the cup.
Becca shook her head no. “Ap-ple.”
Tess smiled as the child’s mother shook her head.
“She doesn’t quite understand ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ yet,” Laurie explained as she took the juice from the refrigerator and refilled the cup. Becca took the cup back to the living room where she’d been playing with the building blocks scattered across the carpet.
