Bundle of Joy (21 page)

"Can we...?" His words were muffled as he pressed his lips to her navel.

"The baby won't mind." Her voice reached him as if through a cloud of dreams.

"We won't hurt him...or you?"

She shook her head. "I promise. You couldn't possibly hurt either one of us."

He stretched full length atop her, supporting his weight on his arms while he drank his fill of her beautiful face.

"Donohue," she whispered. "Don't hesitate...."

That was the one thing he could no longer do. His control snapped and, with an urgent groan, he took her for the first time as his wife. He moved slowly within her, conscious of a hundred different emotions cascading through his body and his soul.

"I've never made love to a married woman before."

She laughed softly, her breath soft and sweet against his lips. "I've never been with a married man."

"Do you like it?"

Her sigh was like silver bells. "I like you."

He reached between them and caressed her belly, trying to imagine the baby floating in its primal sea. She placed her hand between them as well and he caught her fingers with his and placed them against her navel. Gently he rolled them onto their sides, initiating a slow and sensual rhythm that she quickly caught and made her own. It was a communion of the souls, a sacrament, every good and wonderful thing he had never imagined or dreamed of imagining.

Her climax was bottomless, shattering. Her body pulsed around him, drawing him deeper inside. He held on for as long as he could, wanting to postpone the inevitable but he caught the flame, same as she had caught his rhythm. His climax was primitive, intense, and not even close to being enough.

#

The first time they had been together, morning had found them embarrassed, self-conscious and eager to get as far away from each other as modern transportation would allow.

How times had changed.

Six a.m. found Caroline and Charlie still wrapped in each other's arms, blissfully unaware of the rain beating against the bedroom windows and the lightning that streaked across the sky.

"We probably should get some sleep," said Caroline, curling closer to his side. "We'll regret this in the morning."

"Too late," said Charlie. "It's already morning."

She leaned up on one elbow, craning for a glimpse of her alarm clock. "It can't be. Why, we've only been in here for--"

"Hours," said Charlie, pulling her back down next to him. "A lot of hours."

"You're an amazing man, Charles." She pressed a kiss to his stomach.

"Keep doing that and I'll be even more amazing."

She laughed and kissed her way back up to his mouth. "We need our rest."

"What we need is some food."

"I don't know, Charles. I haven't been able to eat in the morning for three months now."

He glanced at her. "Are you feeling sick?"

"No." A big smile spread across her face. "Actually, I'm feeling simply wonderful." She had begun her second trimester the day before yesterday, happy to see that her how-to books were right when they promised morning sickness would soon fade into memory, along with that mind-numbing need for endless hours of sleep. The possibility of a miscarriage also had been drastically reduced now that the first three months were over and Caroline felt ready to settle into a pleasurable routine of expectancy.

"Why don't I fix us some breakfast?" Charlie kissed her on the mouth then swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Stay put. I'll bring it back here."

"Be careful, Charles," she said, easing the covers up over her chest as she looked up at him. "You might find yourself making breakfast every day."

"Sam told me about your cooking, Caroline. This is definitely the better part of valor."

She lay there in bed, luxuriating in the warm afterglow of their lovemaking. Her body felt rich and lush, but more than that her heart was at ease. For the first time in months she was at peace within herself. Being with Charlie had felt
right in the deepest sense of the word. The tension between them, the walking-on-eggshell nerves, had vanished with the first kiss. So had the loneliness.

She glanced at her stack of books piled atop her nightstand.
What To Expect When You're Expecting. Your Baby and You. Healthy Babies, Healthy Choices.
Every how-to book on the subject of childbirth had found its way into her house but not one word of their collective advice had found its way into her brain. She'd been holding this pregnancy an arm's length away from her heart. It was real only when she buttoned her waistband or slipped into a larger sized bra. Morning sickness was real. So was the way the needle on her bathroom scale inched its way upward. That much she could handle. But she had done her best to skim over the fact that a child, one with needs and desires and an entire life pattern already imprinted in its genetic code, was growing beneath her heart. Her child and Charlie Donohue's.

She wasn't in this alone. She wasn't just renting him a room in her condominium apartment. He was her husband and the father of her child and now, at last, the final barrier between them had fallen and they were ready to share the experience ahead. It may not be a forever kind of marriage, but it was real and they were no longer afraid to admit it was exactly what they wanted--if only for right now.

Tossing aside the bedcovers, she reached for her bathrobe and slipped it on. She needed Charlie beside her, his warmth, and protection as she grew bigger with their baby. Once the baby was born, she would be her old self again, independent and strong. But right now, as each day carried her further away from the woman she used to be, she needed someone to lean on and, for better or worse, her husband Charlie was that someone.

#

Charlie cooked fast and he cooked good, but he didn't cook neat. By the time he finished, the kitchen looked as if it had been attacked by a horde of trash-tossing locusts. Bread wrappers littered the countertop. Crumpled-up paper towels sat on top of the bread wrappers. Eggshells, coffee grounds, and an accumulation of other debris covered every other available surface.

But he'd turned out one hell
of a breakfast. Cheese omelet, crisp bacon, toast with strawberry jam--if she didn't like this, there was no pleasing the woman. Despite her burgeoning belly, Caroline looked too damn skinny to him. He wanted to see those hollows in her cheeks fill out a little.

"Get a grip on it," he muttered as he headed toward the bedroom. One great night together and he was acting like her keeper. But, damn it, it
had
been a great night and he didn't want it to end--not one second before it had to. "Sit up!" he bellowed as he approached the door. "Breakfast!"

He stepped into the room. The bed was empty. He put the tray down on her dresser and tapped on the bathroom door. "You in there, Caroline?"

No answer. He stood in the middle of her room, glowering into the mirror. Some great night. She'd abandoned ship and she hadn't even left him a note. "You really have a way with women, Donohue," he muttered. "Drive them out of their minds then out of their apartments." He rubbed his bristly chin with his hand. Maybe he should have shaved before making breakfast....

"Out of the way, Charles!" Caroline's voice, remarkably cheery for so early in the morning, reverberated through the hallway between the guest room and hers. "It's moving day."

He spun around in time to see his pregnant wife, arms loaded with jeans and sweatshirts and copies of
Sports Illustrated
, march into the bedroom.

"What the--?"

She smiled at him and deposited the bundle on the foot of her bed. "I don't know where you want these things, but I thought they should at least be closer at hand."

He looked at his clothes to his wife then back again. "You want me to move into your bedroom?"

"You're clever, Charles," she said, pressing a kiss to the base of his throat. "I like that in a man."

"I'm a slob," he said, drawing her into his arms. "You sure you want me infiltrating your territory?"

"I'm a reformer," said Caroline, snuggling closer. "I'd enjoy the challenge." She paused a moment. "How
big
a slob?"

"Garden variety. Socks all over the place. Crumbs on the carpet." He shot her a glance. "An empty beer can or two."

She raised her hand in protest. "I draw the line at the empty beer cans." A grin spread across her face. "Actually, I draw the line at dirty socks and crumbs on the carpet, but I'm willing to overlook those more minor transgressions."

"Generous," he drawled. "You're all heart, lady."

"I know," she said. "But then the compensations are worth it."

It was his turn to grin. "Sex?"

"There's that," she admitted slowly, then stopped.

"But--?" he prodded.

She flushed an adorable shade of strawberry. "I want your company."

"You're kidding!"

"Is it that hard to believe, Charles?"

"Coming from you, yeah. I didn't think my company was the attraction."

"It's nice to be able to share things with someone who cares as much as I do about the baby." Her eyes filled with sudden tears and he instantly regretted his words. Her emotions were right on the surface these days. He'd have to remember that.

"Come on," he said, kissing the top of her head. "I didn't mean it that way. You took me by surprise, is all."

"I thought--I mean, after last night it seems that perhaps...." Her voice trailed off and she looked away.

This was a Caroline he'd never seen before. A softer, more approachable woman with uncertainties and insecurities that he'd never have imagined existed.

"You sure about this?" he asked.

She nodded, wisps of pale blonde hair dancing about her face. "I'm sure."

"I hog the covers."

"I noticed."

"Sometimes I snore."

"If you do I'll make certain to wake you up."

"If you do that, I might want to make love to you again."

"I was hoping you'd say exactly that, Charles."

They were on familiar territory again, snappy, saucy one-liners batted between them at lightning speed. She made him laugh with her remarks about his
Sports Illustrated
collection while he set up the tray in the center of the bed.

"It's getting cold," he said, patting the spot next to him. "Come on and eat."

"Temperamental chef, are you, Charles?" She arranged herself with the pillows fluffed between her back and the headboard.

"Things should be eaten the way they should be eaten," he said. "Otherwise why bother to cook?"

"My view exactly."

They ate together in companionable silence, broken only by the crunch of toast and the splash of more decaf being poured. It was their first "really married" morning and neither Caroline nor Charlie found it difficult to imagine an endless string of mornings just like that one, stretching out into their future.

But, of course, neither one said anything like that. How could they? They were still too new to each other, too convinced that their marriage was simply one of convenience, too fearful of being hurt. The end of their marriage had been preordained from the very beginning and both Caroline and Charlie were wary enough to keep that fact in mind.

Once the baby was born they would return to their separate lives, as planned. Oh, they'd see each other from time to time but never again would it be like this. Like a real marriage.

Like a real family.

That morning both Charlie and Caroline vowed to enjoy it while it while they could, because the memories they made would have to last a lifetime.

The Third Trimester

It happened for the first time in the middle of October.

Caroline was fitting a slinky, sexy Halston showstopper to one of the damnably slender mannequins in her shop when she felt it. At first she thought she'd imagined the delicate flutter and continued pinning the bodice but then it happened a second time and she knew.

"Mind the store," she said to Denise who was typing figures into the computer. "I'll be back in a little while."

Grabbing her coat, Caroline hurried outside to her sports car and, gunning the engine, raced for O'Rourke's Bar and Grill.

"Where's Charles?" she asked as she burst through the door. "I must find him!"

Her old pal Scotty was sitting at the bar, nursing a Scotch and soda. "Caroline, my dear!" He rose to his feet and executed a courtly, if shaky, bow. "It's been too long."

"Flatterer," she said, kissing his weathered cheek. "I had you over last week for tea."

"Seven days without seeing your lovely face is an eternity to me."

"Where's Charles? I have the most wonderful news!"

"In the basement checking stock," Bill O'Rourke called out from across the room. "Is everything okay?"