The Nurse's Newborn Gift (11 page)

She looked up at him with sleepy eyes. “Thank you.”

“Oh, before I forget.”

She opened her eyes.

“Thank you for giving J.J. my name, too.” After hearing that, he felt even more of a bond between him and his godson. “It really means a lot.” More than she could ever know.

She smiled. “I'm glad. You're going to be a great godfather, Spencer.”

He planned to be.

Her eyes drifted closed again, and she slept for the rest of the trip.

After carrying J.J. up to Krissy's apartment and saying good night to both of them, Spencer stood in the hallway outside of her door and took out his phone to text her.

No plans Tuesday night. You want to do pizza and a movie at your place?

He hit send.

She responded before he made it to the elevator.

Heck, yeah. What time?

He smiled.

7:30. I'll bring the pizza.

It's a date! See you then.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I
T
'
S
A
DATE
.
Why the heck did she have to call tonight a date? Krissy hurried around her apartment, plucking clothing and assorted baby paraphernalia from the couch, floor, and basically every flat surface around her apartment. Did Spencer think it was a date? She walked into her bedroom and dumped everything on the bed.

Did he want it to be a date?

Did she?

The memory of that kiss they'd shared in her kitchen sent warm tingles of joy and anticipation pulsing through her body. Part of her, a long neglected part, sure wanted tonight to be a date.

“Stop it,” she whispered so as not to wake J.J. who lay napping in his crib in the bedroom they shared. “It's not a date.”

But then she turned and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, hair scrunched perfectly, cute little pink sundress, and makeup. Yes, she'd actually made time to apply makeup and shave and paint her toenails. She looked down to admire her skill, such a pretty shade of pink.

“I should change,” she told her reflection in the mirror above the dresser. “Into sweats.” As quietly as she could, she eased out a drawer. “Something that'll make it clear I'm not trying to impress him.” Only she was trying to impress him.

A knock on her front door brought the decision of what to change into to a halt. She glanced at her alarm clock. “What is it with that man always coming early?” She left the room, leaving the door ajar, and then went to greet Spencer.

Deciding it didn't matter how she looked or what she wore as long as she set him straight right from the start, Krissy opened the door, and before saying ‘Come in' or ‘That pizza smells great' or even ‘Hello,' she said, “This is not a date. I know in my text message I said it's a date, but it's not a date.”

Spencer stared at her.

His lack of response sent her into full babble. “Unless you want it to be a date, in which case I guess it could be a date.” She looked up at him. “Did you want it to be a date?”

“I want it to be whatever you want it to be,” he said calmly, almost cautiously, as if worried saying the wrong thing might launch her into crazy town.

“All right then.” She took a deep breath then let it out. “Not a date.” She stepped back to let him in. “Just dinner and a movie with a friend. Purely platonic.”

“Works for me.” He walked into the kitchen and set the pizza box on the counter. “Where's the little man?”

She liked that, ‘the little man.' “He's totally off schedule today. I have no idea why or how long we'll have until he wakes up. We can eat in here and I doubt I'll make it through the whole movie without having to feed him. Or we can eat on the coffee table and start the movie now.”

“Let's eat in the kitchen. I don't mind pausing the movie later on if we need to.”

She appreciated that.

While he washed his hands, she set the table. They both reached for the pizza box at the same time, in the exact same spot where he'd kissed her. Krissy froze, which was odd, considering everything inside of her warmed most pleasantly.

Spencer went still.

He looked down.

She looked up.

Their eyes met.

“You worried I'm going to kiss you again?” he asked.

“More like worried you're
not
going to kiss me again.”

He smiled.

Uhhh... “Did I say that out loud?”

His smile widened. “Yes, you did.”

She blamed, “Pregnancy brain. I'm breastfeeding so things aren't back to normal yet.”

He leaned in, slowly, no longer smiling, his mouth getting closer.

She should stop him, stop this craziness. This kiss, that she wanted with every fiber of her being, could ruin the fragile friendship between them. If he walked out on her again... His lips millimeters from hers she said, “A word of warning, Spencer.”

He stopped, but held his position.

“If you kiss me and leave again, I'll consider this your third and final strike. I will never again give you the opportunity—”

He closed the small distance between them, setting his lips to hers, gently, sweetly, but oh, so enticingly.

It wasn't enough.

Krissy's body screaming for more, she went up on her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him close.

Much better.

Spencer's hands caressed down her back to cup her butt. “Too much?” he asked against her lips.

“No.” She answered.
More
.

He yanked her hips in tight to his.

Just right.

Or so she'd thought, until he dipped his tongue into her mouth again and again, tasting her, and, she'd like to think maybe savoring her a little, too.

Perfect.

But all too soon the kissing stopped and Spencer moved his mouth along her jaw, to her ear. “Pizza's getting cold,” he whispered.

His scruff tickled her skin. That combined with the aftermath of their kiss and his heated breath on the inner rim of her ear made her eyes go blurry. She tried to focus. “There's pizza?” Pizza was not what her body wanted at the moment.

Spencer smiled against her cheek. “Come on.” He left her to carry the box over to the table. “Let's eat.”

But Krissy wasn't able to change gears so quickly. “That was some kiss.” She traced her still tingling lips with her index finger.

“There's more where that came from,” Spencer said as he served himself a slice of pizza then put one on her plate as well. “But I figure it's best we stop now, since tonight we're keeping things platonic.”

He deserved a nice, hard pinch, and Krissy was more than willing to give him one. Instead she goaded him right back. “Interesting plan.” She sat down. “Although most men I know take what they can get when they can get it.”

“I'm not most men.”

No. He certainly was not. Most men would not accompany a woman they hadn't seen in years, and didn't much like, to Lamaze class. Most men would not leave work and speed across town to attend the birth of a baby that wasn't theirs. Most men would not give up their very limited free time to drive a friend into the city then stick around for the emotional tear-fest when she introduced her baby to his grandparents for the first time. “No.” She met his eyes. “You're not most men.”

“Thank you for noticing.” He took a bite of pizza.

For some reason she hadn't noticed...until that moment. Sure, she'd found him physically attractive from the start. But noticing his other very attractive qualities, his confidence, dependability, and attentiveness had taken a bit longer. Needing to process that bit of newly recognized information, Krissy took a bite of her own pizza so she wouldn't have to talk.

Spencer filled the quiet. “So how is it a pretty, fun, sassy woman such as yourself doesn't have a grown-up man in her life?”

Unfortunately that was easy enough to answer. “I've had a few boyfriends over the years, some relationships longer and more serious than others.” She took a sip of water. “Some didn't work out. Others...who I thought maybe...dumped me when I told them about Jarrod and my plan to have his baby.”

“A bunch of idiots.” He took a bite of pizza.

How sweet of him to say so. “Jarrod would have thought so, too. Now your turn.” She looked him in the eyes. “You're good looking and you've got the whole good-guy vibe buzzing around you. How come no woman has claimed you as hers?”

He raised both eyebrows and tilted his head at her. “Good-guy vibe?”

“I know.” Krissy took a small bite of her own pizza. “Caught me by surprise too.” And very recently, as a matter of fact.

“I dated my last girlfriend for two years.”

That shouldn't make Krissy jealous, yet it did.

“A year and a half too long,” he admitted.

That made her feel better.

“She started out sweet. But the longer we were together the more demanding she got, always nagging me to spend more time with her. The needier she got, always asking me to do things for her. Between her, my mom and my sisters, and my new job with NYC United, something had to give. So I broke up with her.”

“Two things I will never be, demanding and needy.” Krissy felt his stare and looked up. “What?”

“Two things you will never be, demanding and needy?”

“I said that out loud?”

He nodded, looking way too amused. “Apparently so, because I heard it. And it's got me wondering why you'd be comparing yourself to my last girlfriend?”

Krissy shrugged. No particular reason.

Spencer studied her, waiting for a response.

Krissy didn't have a good response available at the moment, so she pretended to listen carefully, going as far as to squint her eyes and turn her ear toward the hallway. “I think I hear J.J.” She stood and left the kitchen. Not because she'd heard J.J., who lay sleeping in his crib like a little angel, but because she needed a few minutes to regroup.

Why on earth had she compared herself to Spencer's last girlfriend? That answer came easily enough: To tell him she'd never be demanding and needy. Why did she want him to know she'd never be demanding and needy? No way. She refused to accept the first answer that came to her. Maybe standing alone thinking wasn't the best course of action at the moment.

Returning to the kitchen, Spencer's expression told her he knew exactly why she'd left. But he played along anyway. “Everything okay with J.J.?”

“Yup.” She sat back down, no sense saying any more. He'd know she was lying. “So how's work?” Soccer was a much safer topic than past relationships. “The team's playing well. Alfonso has made a huge improvement to your wins and losses record.”

Luckily Spencer loved talking about soccer, and Krissy knew just enough to ask the right questions to keep the conversation going. Before long they'd wrapped up the leftover pizza, cleaned the kitchen, and were on the couch ready to start the movie.

Turning off the lights in the living room and closing the blinds in an attempt to recreate an actual movie-going experience, sans the massive screen and surround sound, had seemed like a good idea...until Krissy seated herself next to Spencer, the two of them alone, in a room lit only by her television screen.

She'd let him pick the movie, didn't really matter what they watched on account of she felt hot and horny and all she could think about was how easy it'd be to straddle his lap to rock and rub...

“You don't like the movie,” he said.

“The movie is fine.” It was his proximity that was giving her trouble. Like in Lamaze class, proximity had given him an impressive erection. Proximity had him claiming he could get her off in minutes, in a room full of people without anyone knowing. Right now, the ‘get her off in minutes' part had her concentrating on that possibility rather than the movie.

Spencer laughed.

Krissy looked at the television.

“You didn't laugh,” Spencer said. “Everyone laughs at that part.”

She hadn't laughed because she hadn't seen or heard what had happened on screen because she'd been too busy imagining what it'd feel like to have Spencer's hand in her panties, to have his erection deep inside of her, pumping... She inhaled a shaky breath.

This had to stop.

Spencer picked up the remote control from the coffee table and paused the movie. Then he turned to look at her. “What's wrong?”

Shrugging seemed easier than having to answer, so that's what she did.

“Not good enough,” Spencer said.

Pain in the butt. “Just thinking about something, that's all.”

Please leave it at that. Please leave it at that.

He didn't leave it at that. “Thinking about what?”

Of course he'd ask. And you know what? Of course she'd answer. With the truth. Krissy didn't let guys get her all...befuddled. What the—? Krissy also never used the word befuddled. “Fine. You want to know what's on my mind?”

He nodded. “Yes. That's why I asked.”

Well get ready for an honest response. She looked him straight in the eyes. “At Lamaze class, you said you could get me off in minutes, in a room full of people without anyone knowing. Were you serious?”

“That's what you're sitting here thinking about? Me getting you off?”

Not proud of it, at all, but yup.

“Good,” he said. “You and your ‘Those rumors back in high school were true. I give an amazing blow job.' How is a man supposed to sit next to you, in the dark, without thinking about that? But you said platonic.” He threw that back at her.

Staring straight ahead she asked, “What if I changed my mind?” Out of necessity. Out of desperation.

Spencer shifted on the couch, ever so slightly. “Then I'd say, for the record, I told you I could get you off in minutes, in a room full of people if you could keep it quiet, which I seriously doubt.”

Was that a challenge? “Oh, I can keep quiet if I want to keep quiet.” Except where was the fun in that?

“Really?” He moved fast, reaching out, lifting her onto his lap, facing toward the television. “Let's see.” He draped her legs over his then started to spread them, slowly, carefully. “This okay?”

“Yes.”

He kept going until her legs were spread as wide as they could go. “Lean back.”

Primed and eager to see where this would lead, she did, resting her back on his chest, her head on his shoulder.

A moment of hesitation, of worry that letting Spencer proceed was a mistake of epic proportions, fled the instant his warm fingers took a gentle glide from her inner knees up the sensitive insides of her thighs to the elastic leg openings of her panties. Yay for wearing a dress!

“Is it okay if I touch you?”

“Yes.” Please do, right away, and hurry it up if you don't mind.