What Price Paradise (12 page)

They stopped at the front desk and Tate paid the bill while Abby made her next appointment. As soon as they were back on the street he headed for the drug store. “You know the room across the hall from yours? It’s still full of Mom’s sewing things, but with a little fixing up, it would make a great nursery.”

Abby came to a screeching halt. “But I thought…”

Tate paused. “What? You don’t like the room?”

“No, it’s not that. I just thought that after the baby was born you’d…”

Tate took a deep breath as realization swept over him. “You thought that after the baby was born we’d get a divorce and it would all be over with.”

Abby hesitated. “Yes. I know you’re only doing this because you feel like you have to. I thought you’d want to get back to your old life and, by the time the baby’s born, I’ll have my diploma. I’ll be able to get a better job. You won’t need to take care of us anymore.”

Tate took her hand. “Listen to me, Abby. When we got married the vow was until death parted us, not until the baby was born. I meant it. I admit, the baby was kind of an abstract idea to me until today, but now it’s real and it’s my baby too. I want the chance to help raise it, to see it grow up. You can’t take that away from me. Please, promise me you won’t do anything until we at least talk about it.”

Abby was chewing on her bottom lip, her gaze searching his expression and Tate held his breath while she hesitated. “Okay. I promise we’ll talk about it again after the baby’s born.”

Relief shot through Tate and he smiled at her. “Good. I know we can work this out. And in the meantime, we can go ahead and get the nursery fixed up.” He glanced down at her as they reached the drug store. “Have you thought about a name yet?”

“A name?”

“For the baby. Never mind. Maybe they’ll have one of those baby name books in here.”

“But we don’t even know if it’s a boy or girl yet!”

“Well, we’ll just pick out one of each that we like. Then we’ll be covered.”

Abby laughed and shook her head. “I think you may be jumping the gun a little. We still have lots of time before we need to settle on a name.”

“You never know,” he said wisely as he handed the druggist the prescriptions. “What if we can’t agree on anything? For instance, I’m afraid I’d have to protest if you wanted to name a boy Howard.” He shuddered in mock horror and Abby laughed harder.

“You can rest assured, I’ll never name our son Howard if you promise not to name our daughter Louise.”

A son and a daughter. Not one child, but two. Would it ever happen? With her? Tate stood there gazing down into Abby’s smiling face and knowledge slammed into him, staggering in its intensity. He wanted her. Wanted her more than he’d ever wanted another woman in his life. His body had been trying to tell him that for weeks now, but he hadn’t listened. Couldn’t afford to listen.

Guilt hit him hard. How could he want Abby this much when it was Diane he loved? And what did that make him? A selfish, cheating bastard? But which woman was he cheating on? His wife or his fiancée?

Abby sat curled up on one end of the couch, twisting a strand of hair around one finger as she read the pamphlets the nurse had given her. She’d been at it ever since she’d cleaned the kitchen after supper, and had only made it through half of them so far. Some of them, like the ones on nutrition, were boring, but the ones on fetal development had taken on a whole new meaning for her.

Like Tate, the baby had just been an abstract idea for her until she’d actually seen it today, a problem that had to be overcome somehow. Now it was real, a little person that was hers to love and care for. Someone who would love her back, need her, depend on her. She was determined to make sure this baby was happier and healthier than she’d ever had the chance to be. Her baby was going to be proud of its mother.

She put the pamphlet she’d just finished on the end table and glanced up at Tate. He was sitting across from her with not one, but two books on baby names he’d bought today. And he was watching her again.

He’d been doing it all afternoon. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, but she was always aware of it. It had gotten to the point where she didn’t even have to look at him to know. Every time he started watching her, the hair would stand up on her arms, and a strange sense of anticipation would hit her.

She glanced back down at the next pamphlet on the stack and smiled. There was a picture of a chubby-cheeked newborn on the front, and the inscription, “Lamaze: The Natural Way to Healthy Babies.”

One of the pictures they’d gotten today was now stuck to the refrigerator door with magnets. She wanted it where she could see it often. The other one Tate had kept, tucking it carefully into his wallet. After he’d shown it to Buddy, of course.

Abby smiled again. Buddy had given him a lot of grief over that picture, pretending at first that he couldn’t see anything on it. Tate had been ready to strangle him by the time his brother finally admitted he could see the baby. After that, they had spent fifteen minutes trying to decide who it looked like, which Abby found hysterical, considering the vagueness of the image. Buddy had finally declared it had to be a girl because it was too pretty for a boy.

“What about Darren?”

Abby looked up and made a face. “There was a Darren in my third-grade class. He was a hateful little monster.”

“Okay, scratch Darren.”

When he went back to the book, Abby started reading the next brochure. She’d barely gotten through the first page when she started laughing.

“What?” Tate looked up.

“You know that Lamaze thing you signed me up for today? Well, you didn’t just sign me up, you signed yourself up, too. It’s classes on natural childbirth. And you have to be my coach.”

“Let me see that thing.” He got up and sat down beside her on the couch, taking the pamphlet from her hands.

Abby leaned closer until their shoulders were touching and read over his arm, trying to ignore the tingle his nearness was causing. An uncontrollable shiver ran over her.

“This doesn’t sound too bad.” He glanced down at her. “Although I’m not sure how you can teach someone to breathe. Seems like it would be a case of either you can or you can’t.”

“Look at this part.” She pointed to the last paragraph on the page, her arm brushing his. Tate seemed to tense before he started reading.

“You mean I get to be in there with you when it’s born? I thought I’d have to stay in the waiting room.”

Abby glanced up at him. “Do you want to be there?”

“Of course I do. I help our mares foal all the time. How different could it be?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything being born before.”

“You will. It’s spring. There’s always something being born this time of year on a ranch.”

Tate stretched his arm out along the back of the couch and turned toward her a little, his gaze running disconcertingly over her face before coming to rest on her lips. “What else have you got over there?”

Was it her imagination or had his voice gotten softer?

Abby shuffled through the papers on the end table with shaking hands until she found the one on fetal development. “This one shows what the baby will look like each month.”

“Really?”

His voice definitely sounded husky now and she got the impression he’d stopped paying attention to her words. Before she could look up his fingers slid through her hair and Abby went still.

“It’s bound to have black hair,” he murmured.

Slowly she looked up at him, her heart quivering. The expression on his face was the same one she’d seen several times today, but now it was more intense. His rough features had taken on a sensual look that sent a streak of unexplainable heat shooting through her, along with a yearning emptiness that gapped deep in her middle.

“I hope it has your eyes,” she whispered, staring into their blue depths. Even as she watched, the pupils expanded, darkened, and his hand moved to her cheek, thumb tracing the outline of her jaw.

“Why? You have beautiful eyes.”

Abby couldn’t have spoken a word if her life had depended on it. All she could do was wait and she wasn’t even sure what for. It didn’t take long to find out.

Tate’s hand curved around her nape, pulling her gently but inexorably closer. And then his mouth covered hers. Abby stopped thinking, almost stopped breathing. There was nothing she could do but feel.

The papers still on her lap slid to the floor unnoticed as she leaned into him. His lips were warm and firm on hers and, instinctively her own parted. A low growl sounded in the back of his throat as he plunged inside and, without quite realizing how, Abby found her hands fisted in his hair, pulling him even closer.

The heat that had run through her before burst into incandescence, making her body hypersensitive. Her breasts, already tender, seemed near to bursting now and she could feel the solid strength of Tate’s body with every inch of hers. It had never been like this before. Not the night he’d first come to her, and not when he’d kissed her after the wedding.

His mouth ravaged hers, again and again, and she didn’t care, didn’t want him to ever stop. She was inflamed with feelings in places where long dormant nerve endings were exploding to life and she wanted more, wanted to know what those feelings could become.

Suddenly, the dual beams of headlights stabbed through the window and Tate jerked away from her as though he’d only just realized he was holding live fire with his bare hands.

“Shit.”

The word was low, almost under his breath, but she heard it. He was looking down at her, his face rife with confusion. Well, he couldn’t be any more confused than she was right now, Abby thought, watching as he ran a hand through his hair.

The headlights came to a stop in front of the house and she could hear the sound of a motor.

“Looks like we’ve got company,” Tate said. “I’ll go see who it is.”

“I’ll go make coffee.”

“Fine.” The word was curt as he started across the living room.

Abby waited until he reached the door then jumped up and ran into the kitchen, frustration and embarrassment battling inside her.

* * * * *

Tate stepped out into the darkness of the front porch and watched as Joe Blackburn climbed out of the cab of the pickup. He was in no mood for company right now, wasn’t even sure he could carry on a normal conversation. But at least the interruption had put a halt to what was surely about to happen in the house. Something he couldn’t let happen again no matter how badly his body ached.

“Joe.” He nodded as his best friend stopped at the bottom of the steps.

“Damn you, Tate. You know what I found on my answering machine when I got home tonight? Well, I’ll tell you.” He kept talking without giving Tate a chance to answer. “I found a message from Hank telling me there was going to be a party here Saturday to celebrate you getting married. It’s pretty dang sorry when you have to find out news like that about your best friend from an answering machine. Why didn’t you call me?”

“It was kind of spur of the moment. Didn’t have time to call anybody.”

“Shit. And I thought Diane was going to be out of town for two weeks. How’d you talk her into it?”

Tate’s stomach clenched painfully. Apparently Hank hadn’t gone into details. “She is gone for two weeks. I didn’t marry Diane.”

Joe took a step back, almost falling down the remaining steps in his shock. “Then who the hell did you marry?”

“Abby Grayson.”

“Abby?” Joe’s mouth gapped. “That little waitress from Delly’s?” He closed his mouth with a snap. “Hell, Hoss. When I suggested using her for revenge, marriage wasn’t what I had in mind.”

“Keep your voice down,” Tate hissed. “She’s in the kitchen.” He paused. “And I didn’t do it for revenge. She’s pregnant.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

“Before you ask, yes, it’s mine.”

Joe grinned at him. “I wasn’t going to ask. I figure you’re smart enough to know something like that on your own. No wonder you got so mad at Delly’s Friday night. You already knew then, didn’t you?”

“I suspected. I found out for sure later that night.”

“I’ll be damned,” Joe repeated, shaking his head. “You’re gonna be a daddy. Just don’t seem possible. So, are you gonna introduce me?”

Tate sighed. “I guess I might as well. Come on in.”

Abby looked up from the coffee pot as they entered the room and smiled hesitantly.

“Abby, this is Joe Blackburn. You probably remember seeing him at Delly’s. Joe this is Abby.”

“Sure she remembers. Hard to forget a handsome face like mine.” Joe was grinning at her in obvious delight. “Do I get to kiss the bride?”

Abby backed up a quick step, but it was too late. Joe grabbed her and put a loud smack on her cheek while Tate watched with amusement.

“You sure picked yourself a sorry excuse for a husband, girl. Take it from me. Why, me and Tate used to chase each other around the yard until our diapers fell off.” Joe pushed his hair back on one side. “See this scar? He did that. Hit me over the head with a shovel when we were four. Took six stitches to sew it up.”