Baby's First Homecoming (14 page)

Even at a distance, Clay could see her movements were slow and weighted, her shoulders slumped in exhaustion.

Clearly, Jamie wasn’t teething or sick. Sierra wouldn’t have left his side.

Perhaps she also had insomnia.

Stalker-like or not, he watched, unable to tear his gaze away from her. She opened the front of the blanket, revealing Jamie in her arms. A faint cry carried across the yard.

Clay didn’t think twice before he fetched his jacket. At the door, he shoved his bare feet into the pair of athletic shoes he’d worn to the park. Only when he stepped outside and cool air blasted him did he remember he wore nothing other than cotton pajama bottoms beneath his jacket.

Sierra glanced up the moment his feet struck the wood-slat walkway, the clacking sound echoing in the still night. If she was surprised by his appearance, she gave no indication. Not even when he hopped over the low gate.

Jamie stopped crying upon spotting Clay but still fussed.

“You okay?”

It seemed as though he was always asking her that question. During their dinners together. After their counseling sessions. At the end of her work day. Before meeting his dad today.

“Jamie’s been crying for the last two hours. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. The teething gel hasn’t helped, if it’s even that. He doesn’t have a diaper rash. No fever. No stuffy nose. No throwing up.” She jiggled him on her knees. “I wish you could talk, baby. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Jamie hiccupped and shuddered slightly as a muffled sob escaped.

“He probably had a rough day like the rest of us.”

“And he’s overtired. He didn’t get much of a nap this afternoon.” She lifted by his underarms and stood him on her thighs. “I came outside hoping the fresh air would relax him.”

Clay considered offering to hold Jamie. Then, he had a better idea. “Why don’t we take him inside the house?”

“Yours?”

“He can play with Oreo, and I’ll make us cups of that herbal tea you like.”

“I used my last teabag this morning.”

“I have a box. Bought it at the store the other day.”

“Really?”

He could tell the extra effort he’d taken on her behalf pleased her. “We could warm up a can of formula for Jamie.”

“You have toddler formula, too?”

“I think that’s what it is. There’s a picture of a kid about Jamie’s age on the label. Supposed to be more nutritious than plain milk.”

“I suppose you have a bottle, too.”

“As a matter of fact…” He’d been preparing for when Sierra was ready to leave Jamie with him for extended periods.

Or when she moved out into her own place and Jamie stayed with Clay on “his days.” Just because things were progressing extraordinarily well was no guarantee they’d stay that way.

He and Sierra hadn’t kissed since that night by Jamie’s crib. Not that Clay didn’t want to or didn’t think about kissing her. Day in, day out. But Jamie was their priority and main focus.

“Come on, let’s go.” He inclined his head toward the house.

She wavered.

He stood, held out a hand to her. She allowed him to assist her to her feet.

Her fingers were small and soft and warm inside his.

Jamie’s fussiness ceased the instant they entered the house. The fluorescent lights in the kitchen seemed to fascinate him. Tilting his head back, he gawked at the ceiling.

Sierra gawked at Clay, making him a tad self-conscious. He’d taken off his jacket and left his shoes by the door, forgetting that all he wore was his cotton pajama bottoms.

Well, she’d seen him in less before. A lot less.

He boiled water for the tea while Sierra set Jamie on the floor and prepared his bottle of toddler formula. He lost interest in the lights the moment Oreo meandered into the kitchen. The dog licked Jamie’s face, then bowed down in a huge stretch and yawned expansively.

Clay patted Oreo’s head. “I see one of us isn’t having trouble sleeping.”

When the tea was ready, he transferred the steaming mugs to the table. Sierra tried to pick up Jamie, but he scrambled away from her. Rather than fight, she gave him the bottle, which he drank while sitting on the floor next to Oreo.

“I’ve been thinking about what your dad said today.” She plucked nervously at her oversize T-shirt and sweatpants.

Clay was going to bring up the wild-mustang auction. This was an unexpected, and better, subject. “You want to discuss it?”

She grimaced. “You sound like Dr. Brewster.”

“Sorry.” The counseling sessions had definitely influenced him. “Thanks again for letting my dad meet Jamie. Not that you care, but it meant a lot to him.”

“I did it for Jamie.”

“And me?”

She averted her gaze.

Sometimes saying nothing spoke volumes.

“I don’t expect you to forgive him,” Clay said.

“Have you?”

Clay spoke slowly, aware that if he leveled with Sierra he’d be treading on dangerous ground. “I’m trying. We’ve had some conversations lately. There’s more to my parents’ split than either of them told me.”

“Isn’t that common in divorce?”

True. He’d certainly kept facts about his own divorce private. Never at the expense of another person, however.

“My mom let me make assumptions about my dad and didn’t correct them. Harmful assumptions.”

“Why would she do that?”

“Their divorce was complicated. She was angry at him. When I confronted her with what my dad said, she admitted misleading me.”

Sierra shook her head. “I can’t see your mom lying.”

“She didn’t lie so much as omit.”

“They divorced years ago. Why is this even important?”

“Closure, I suppose. It started when I told Dad about Jamie. Apparently my parents didn’t want to drag me into the nasty details of their divorce or acknowledge the mistakes they’d made.”

“Like your dad selling my family’s land to an investor?”

Up till now, Clay had danced around the subject of Wayne. He decided the time had come for frankness. “There’s more to the sale of your family’s land than either of our parents told us. Ask your dad.”

“What purpose would that serve?”

“Learning the truth.”

She snorted indignantly. “The truth is your father breached the contract he had with mine. Just because he didn’t think he had a choice doesn’t make it acceptable or forgivable.”

“Sierra—”

“My dad was depressed for years. He’s finally his old self again. I’m not risking a relapse by hammering him with questions about the darkest days of his life.”

“Okay. I didn’t mean to push you.” Clay had been struggling to temper that least-desirable trait of his.

“And I didn’t mean to get defensive.”

They sipped their tea wordlessly for several seconds.

Sierra broke the lull. “What do you want from our relationship, Clay?”

“To be great parents to Jamie.”

“Is that all?”

Dr. Brewster had encouraged direct questions. Sierra was apparently taking the advice seriously.

“If we weren’t already in an unconventional relationship, I’d pursue a conventional one.”

“You’d ask me out?”

“Yes.”

“But we
do
have an unconventional relationship.”

He turned the tables on her. “What are you really asking?”

She sighed, propped her chin on her hand. “Things keep changing on me. The last two years have been a roller-coaster ride. I know I want stability and permanence, for me and for Jamie.”

“You don’t have that here?”

“Come on. There are two legal agreements binding us together and both of them expire at the end of three months. That’s not exactly permanence.”

“I won’t kick you out of the casita or fire you.”

“You say that now. What if you meet someone?”

“That isn’t likely.”

“You’ve said that before.”

She had every reason to doubt him. He’d given Sierra a similar assurance right before reconciling with Jessica. “Can we take this one day at a time? Not worry about what hasn’t happened and probably won’t?”

“You’re right.” She sighed.

Could she be searching for more than permanence? A home rather than a place to live? A career with potential rather than a plain old job? A loving, committed relationship rather than a man with whom she shared parenting duties?

Clay’s aversion to marriage had lessened considerably in recent weeks, but he still remained cautious. Sierra was astute and probably sensed his reservations.

“I’m attracted to you,” he said, gauging her reaction. “I think that’s obvious.”

“A little.” She smiled. A spark lit her eyes.

His pulse jumped. “Unconventional relationship or not, we could still go out.”

“As in a date?”

Start with a date,
he was thinking, but said, “Yeah. Take Jamie along.”

Her smile turned mischievous. “Then it wouldn’t be much of a date. What if I want to go to a grown-up restaurant, not a pizza place with games and ten million screaming kids?”

His pulse went from jumping to leaping. “You okay with someone watching him?”

“Your mom or my dad. For a couple of hours.”

What would Dr. Brewster’s reaction be to them going on a date? What about their attorneys?

“Ah!” Sierra’s expression melted. “Would you look at that.”

Clay followed her gaze to Jamie, sound asleep on the floor beside Oreo. The dog, snoring quietly, rested his head on Jamie’s bottom.

“I should put him to bed.”

“Wait. Not yet.” Clay retrieved his smart phone from the counter and snapped several pictures.

“You’re not going to email those to all your friends and family and post them on Facebook?”

“What kind of dad would I be if I didn’t?”

“I want copies, too.”

When he finished with the pictures, she bent and tugged Jamie out from under Oreo.

The dog grunted his displeasure at the loss of his pillow.

“Where’d I leave that blanket?” She glanced around, Jamie draped limply over her shoulder.

“Don’t leave yet.”

“It’s almost midnight.”

“You haven’t finished your tea.” Or their conversation. “The cold air might wake him up.”

“Umm…”

“Put him in the playpen.”

“You have a playpen? Where?”

“In the living room. I just bought it.”

“Along with the toddler formula and bottles?”

“And some more baby junk.”

“Just how much baby junk did you buy?”

Clay grinned like a boy on his first pony ride. “Put Jamie in the playpen and I’ll show you.”

Chapter Twelve

Sierra waited while Clay spread an old afghan in the bottom of the playpen. She laid Jamie on top of it and used a corner to cover him up.

Amazingly, he didn’t stir once.

“Where are all these new purchases?” she whispered as they padded on bare feet to the hall.

“This way.”

Clay took her to the den. There, on the couch, were bags and bags of baby things. On the floor beside the couch was a tricycle.

“You’ve really outdone yourself.” Sierra went to the tricycle and lifted one of the brightly colored streamers hanging from the handlebars. “He’s not quite old enough for this. Or this.” She dug out a skateboard and rolled her eyes. “And here I thought a pony was bad.”

“I bought a helmet and knee pads. They’re in one of the bags.”

“Clay Duvall, you’re impossible.” She laughed. Easily, naturally. Wasn’t that a nice change from the glum mood she’d been in after the picnic at the park?

“Granted, I may have gotten carried away,” he confessed.

“You think?” Still laughing, she came over and pressed a hand to his cheek. “You’re a very a sweet man. Jamie’s a fortunate boy to have you for his father. Not just because of what you can buy him—” She moved her hand from his cheek to his chest and laid it over his heart. “Because you love him.”

“Thank you. For Jamie and for working so hard to make this relationship of ours work.”

“It’s not as bad as I thought it would be.”

“No, it isn’t.”

Her gaze roved his face, settled on his eyes. This was no trust exercise. She looked at him for the sheer pleasure it gave her.

Drawn by an irresistible pull, she swayed toward him.

He circled her waist with his arms, narrowing the distance between them to nothing. “Sierra, I—”

“Don’t say anything.” She pressed a finger to his mouth. “Show me instead.”

He groaned and brushed his lips across hers, slowly, purposefully. She leaned into him, fitted her body to his and pressed her breasts against him. The passion that had swept them up before instantly reignited.

Two years ago, Clay had desired her. Not because he loved her or even wanted her. He’d been needing a balm to soothe the ache left by Jessica. Sierra had been available and willing to provide that balm.

Tonight was different.

Jessica was buried deep in Clay’s past where she belonged. It was Sierra’s name Clay murmured as he trailed kisses along her jaw and down her throat. It was her eyes he lost himself in before claiming her mouth again. It was her desperate need he was eager to satisfy.

Emotions gathered inside her, then tumbled out in a shiver that left her simultaneously weak-kneed and exhilarated.

Clay ruthlessly broke off their kiss, gasping for air as if every molecule of oxygen had been sucked from the room.

He tried to talk and couldn’t.

She enjoyed leaving him speechless.

“We’d better stop while I can,” he managed in a choked voice.

“Do you want to stop?”

“What do you think?”

She thought he’d like to take her to bed.

Were they ready?

This was new territory they were navigating, despite having slept together before. Common sense dictated they proceed slowly.

Sierra had been listening to her common sense for two years and was tired of it.

“I could go, but I hate to wake up Jamie.”

“If you stay, I don’t want Jamie to be the reason.”

If she stayed, there would be no going back. Ever.

His breathing steadied, and his muscles relaxed.

She liked him better when that infuriating control of his was about to snap.

“It would be a shame to wake him up.” She smiled seductively.

“A crying shame.” Clay hauled her off her feet for another kiss and carried her down the hall.

His bedroom was large and the decor masculine, like the rest of his house.

The bed was simply too far away and Sierra in too much of a hurry.

“Put me down.”

Clay set her on her feet in the middle of the room. She didn’t wait for him to undress her but tugged off her T-shirt.

“Wow.” He filled his hands with her breasts. “You are gorgeous.”

She felt gorgeous. And daring and, yes, timid. She was taking a chance, putting her heart out there again with no protection.

“I won’t hurt you, I promise.”

Her fears must have shown on her face.

She covered his hands with hers, let the silky sensations his touch evoked slide through her.

“Let’s just concentrate on the here and now,” she said. “Not worry about what hasn’t happened.”

Hadn’t he told her the very same thing earlier?

He kissed her mouth, her shoulders, tickled the tops of her breasts with his five o’clock shadow. His restraint was maddening. When had he gained control and she lost hers?

“Clay, please.” She arched her back, and he reached between her legs.

“What do you want? Tell me.”

“You, naked, inside me.”

They tumbled onto the bed, the rest of their clothes dissolving in a mad frenzy. When she would have straddled him, Clay took his time exploring every inch of her with intimate touches and sensual caresses. Not to mention kisses. Lots of them. All over.

Her hands weren’t still, either. She traced the contour of his broad chest, his lean thighs, his tight buttocks. His body had always fascinated her, and she reveled in the rediscovery.

She bit his earlobe as her fingers found his erection. “I want you inside me.”

“Not half as much as I want you.”

Rolling onto his side, he opened the drawer of the nightstand and removed a condom. Swiftly covering his erection, he pushed her onto her back and entered her.

Sierra gasped in astonishment and delight, rising off the mattress as every one of her muscles contracted. The next instant, her limbs turned to liquid as he thrust in and out of her, his rhythm steadily increasing at the same rate as her excitement.

Heaven help her, she wanted more.

“Touch me.”

At her bold demand, he drove into her harder, his hand stroking her where she craved it the most.

The connection was electrifying.

Within seconds, she reached a spectacular climax that triggered an onslaught of emotions. Tears sprang to her eyes. She blinked them away, hoping Clay wouldn’t notice.

He did. “What’s this?” He wiped her moist cheek.

She started to tell him it was nothing. Except that would be a terrible lie.

“Make love to me.” That was as near as she could come to telling him what lay in her heart.

His breathing grew shallower, and his thrusts went deeper. She clung to him, told him how incredible he felt and how good they were together.

He shuddered, buried his face in her neck and let go.

She enjoyed his release almost as much as she had her own. Clay might be bigger and stronger than her, but she was capable of reducing him to a weakling simply by moving her hips a certain way.

“Stop that,” he growled, “unless you mean business.” He captured her wrist and brought her hand to his mouth.

She sifted her fingers through his short disheveled hair. “I’m glad Jamie was fussy tonight.”

“You have no idea how often I’ve wanted to walk over to that casita.” His smile was little-boy charming.

“I’m not sure the evening would have ended the same if you did.”

“Me either, to be honest.” He rolled off her onto his side.

Sierra missed him immediately and was glad when he scooped her into his arms. She reciprocated by curling her leg around his calf.

“This is nice,” he said, his voice tinged with sleep.

Sierra was suddenly tired, too, and her own eyelids drifted shut.

The day had been filled with ups and down, highs and lows and unexpected turns. Being physically sated contributed to her sleepiness. So did being cocooned in Clay’s arms.

She’d started to drift off when he kissed the back of her neck. “I have an idea.”

“Mmm, what’s that?”

“Let’s get married.”

Her eyes flew open, and she came instantly wide awake.

* * *

S
IERRA
SAT
UP
AND
swung her legs over the side of the mattress, her back to Clay. “That was out of the blue.”

“Was it?” He propped himself up on one elbow and stroked her arm, the sleepiness vanished from his voice. “Can you honestly tell me you haven’t thought about marrying me?”

She had, a lot. Two years ago. She’d dreamed of nothing else after returning to San Francisco. Even when she heard he and Jessica had reconciled, a small part of her hoped they’d break up again. Then, she’d received two stunning blows. She was pregnant, and, a week later, she learned Clay and Jessica were engaged.

“It’s too soon for us to think about marriage. This… We…” Sierra waved a hand at the bed. “Everything is happening really fast. We haven’t gone on our first date yet.”

“Jamie is our son. You and he are my family. I think it would be best for him if we were married. You said you wanted stability and permanence.”

All right, people married for the sake of their child every day. Clay’s proposal wasn’t as out of the blue as she’d claimed. But Jamie wasn’t enough of a reason for her to accept. Clay felt compelled to “do the right thing,” which was why she hadn’t told him about her pregnancy in the beginning.

“I do want stability and permanence,” she said. “I also want to marry for love. To be in a committed relationship with a man who adores me and can’t bear to live without me.”

“I adore you, Sierra. You’re a beautiful, smart, talented woman. An incredible mother. Everything I want in a wife.”

Do you love me?

He hadn’t included that in his list of the perfect-wife qualities.

Do I love him?

She did. Despite all the doubts and uncertainties, she’d been steadily falling for Clay since her return home. If she didn’t love him, she wouldn’t be in his bed now.

“Hey, come on, look at me.” He reached up and, taking her chin between his fingers, forced her to look at him.

His vulnerable expression turned her insides to mush.

“Won’t you at least consider my proposal?” he asked.

“I’m not ready. We have too many unresolved issues.”

There was sufficient moonlight streaming in though the shutters for her to discern the flare of disappointment in his eyes. Had she crushed his ego or did he truly care for her?

He must. No man made love with the kind of intense passion Clay did without caring for his partner.

She’d feel a whole lot better about them and their future if he’d say those three little words.

“I’m touched by your proposal.” She cupped his cheek, attempting to restore their former mood.

“I can see where I might have jumped the gun.”

“You do that sometimes.” Though there was a big difference between buying a one-year-old a tricycle and proposing marriage.

“The control freak strikes again.”

She smiled. “You said it, not me.”

He returned her smile. “Why don’t we just live together?”

“Live together,” she repeated slowly.

“Yeah. We practically already are.”

“No, we’re not.” She stiffened. “We have completely separate residences.”

He sat up beside her, his thigh brushing hers. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re pressuring me.”

“Take your time deciding. I’m in no rush.”

“I’m not sure of your motives.”

“For asking you to move in with me?”

“That and proposing.”

“I told you, Jamie and you.”

Right. To give her stability and permanence. Not for love.

Another legal agreement binding them together. This one a marriage license.

She should drop the subject before either of them said something they’d regret.

He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “If I’m pressuring you it’s because you mean the world to me, and I don’t want to lose you.”

Funny, she was afraid of losing him.

“That still isn’t a good reason to get married or move in together. Those are huge steps.”

“You’re right. It’s just that tonight was amazing. Not only the sex. And make no mistake, that was mind-blowing. I’m talking about the emotional connection. I’ve never felt so close to anyone.”

Almost a declaration of love.

Maybe he was one of those men who couldn’t say it out loud.

“Oh, Clay.” She bent and kissed his cheek.

“I’m sorry I botched this.”

“You didn’t. You’ve let me know we have enough between us to build a solid relationship. We love Jamie and want what’s best for him. We also have some pretty powerful feelings for each other. Maybe, if we go slow, we can have something really special one day.”