Читать книгу Make Way For Babies! - Laurie Paige - Страница 10

Ally threw the sheet off and sprang up as if someone had dumped a load of hot coals on the bed. She had so much to do! If everything had gone well during the night, she could bring the twins home this afternoon. She would have them to herself at last.

The qualms that coursed through her were natural. All new moms felt unsure and apprehensive about the responsibility of caring for babies. Rose would help if she needed her. She only had to call.

The sadness descended unexpectedly. In her heart, she realized, she still wanted all the things she’d once dreamed of—a husband who would share life with her, who would be there for her as she would be there for him, who would be a loving father to their children. That dream wasn’t to be.

But the one about having her own family was about to come true in a big way. Twins were double trouble! Laughing, she jumped out of bed.

She dashed through her morning chores, then, taking her coffee with her, strolled through the house. She and Jack had bought the two-bedroom cottage from her aunt for the acreage that went with it.

They had planned to remodel the house before having kids. They’d wanted to put in a garden and fence off a section for a pony. Somehow the years had slipped by without their doing any of it. As Spence had mentioned, plans didn’t always work out.

When she and Jack had married, she’d thought she would never be lonely again. At first, she hadn’t, but somehow things had changed. Jack had become increasingly jealous of her work and her involvement with her patients after she finished her studies and set up the office.

And of his younger brother whenever Spence joined the family for holiday meals and such.

She’d had to be very careful not to mention the past adventures she and Spence had shared. She had made sure she was never alone with Spence at the family gatherings and had been careful not to tease or even talk to him very much.

Later, when she didn’t conceive, Jack had become angry, as if she’d withheld a child on purpose. Their marriage had fallen upon rocky times. He had started working later and later. Last year, she’d even wondered if there was another woman. Then he had died, working alone one night, trying to finish a job by moving lumber with an old forklift.

Something had gone wrong and the stack of lumber had cascaded down on him. The doctor said he hadn’t suffered. A blow to the head had killed him at once.

Small comfort in that.

She had thought, with the coming of the babies, they would have a focus in their marriage. As a psychologist, she knew how foolish it was to hope children would solve a troubled marriage, but they’d had no real problems, no crises of faith or broken vows.

Just a slow drifting apart…

Sadness trailed after her as she went into the guest bedroom. She had used it as a home office, but it would have to be the nursery until the addition on the house was completed.

Twin bassinets stood next to the wall. One was trimmed in blue, the other in yellow. They had known one baby was a boy, but hadn’t been able to tell for sure about Hannah from the sonograms.

After checking the supplies of diapers, nightshirts, day outfits and bottles, which she’d done a hundred times already, she went to the door at the end of the hallway.

Two bedrooms and a bath were being added for the twins so each could have a room. The carpenter hadn’t proceeded as quickly as she would have liked. The inside work remained to be done, although the outside was finished.

Baseboards were stacked in one room, paint cans in the other. She and Rose had made curtains, which still needed to be hemmed after the rods were put up. None of that could be done until the walls and trim were finished.

She returned to the kitchen. Where was the carpenter she had hired? He was supposed to be there at seven. He liked to start early, what with the heat of summer and all, he’d told her. So where was he?

She sat at the table and debated calling his home. He got peeved if she pestered him or asked too many questions.

Men and their fragile egos.

She called the hospital and found out Taylor and the twins were doing fine. Taylor reported she was leaving the hospital with a friend soon and thanked Ally again for being with her.

After hanging up, Ally sat and stared out the window at the orchard that separated the cottage from the McBride house where Rose lived.

Spence had a neat apartment in a new building about a mile from them. She’d been there once when Rose had thrown a welcome-back dinner for him at the place.

A sigh worked its way out of her. She felt melancholy today for some reason. As if she was suffering from the postpartum depression new mothers often got.

Her thoughts drifted. She mused on her nine years of marriage and on being a widow for almost eight months. At thirty-two, she felt no wiser than she had at twenty-two, when she’d married Jack.

Or at eighteen when she’d thought friendship would grow into love. She smiled and felt her lips tremble.

Memories. Sometimes they could weave a cloud around the heart and make a person ache for what might have been. How young she’d been at eighteen on the night of their high-school graduation….

Spence, the most popular guy in class, had broken up with a cheerleader, who was the most popular girl. The cheerleader had gone to the graduation dance with the star quarterback to get back at him. He’d dropped by Ally’s house, knowing she hadn’t planned on going to the dance.

She’d had few dates in high school. With delivering newspapers and baby-sitting jobs, plus working toward a nursing scholarship, she’d had very little time for extracurricular activities, and no money to buy a fancy dress.

Spence had asked her to go for a drive. She’d gone willingly. They had always been there for each other from the moment she’d come to live with her aunt. The day she arrived, he’d stopped by to see what was happening, and he’d immediately pitched in and helped carry her things inside and store them in the little sewing room that would become her bedroom for the next seven years. He’d even let her ride his new bike. They had become fast friends.

Sometimes that seemed strange to her, as if they’d been kindred souls, even as children. She’d never been as close to another person, before or since.

On that long-ago graduation night, he’d driven out to a hiking trail that started next to the river and wound up into the mountains. To her surprise he’d had one bottle of champagne in a cooler in the back of his car. She’d laughed when she realized she was sharing a treat he’d planned for the homecoming queen, and had teased him about it.

They had talked seriously then, about the college he would attend and law school, both back east, then about her scholarship, which had come through. She’d admitted she would be glad to leave her aunt’s home.

“I’m going to have my own place someday,” she’d bragged.

And here she was, back in her aunt’s old house. But now it was hers…hers and the twins. For the split second between one heartbeat and another, she wondered what life would have been like if Spence had been her husband, if the twins had been their babies….

When Spence had opened the bottle of champagne, he’d proposed a toast.

“To friendship. To the future. To us.” She had echoed his words and raised the glass to her lips.

“Wait,” he’d said. He had hooked his arm through hers. Arms linked, they had sipped the magic elixir.

It had been sweet and romantic. When the moon rose over the mountain peak and laid a sparkling trail on the swift flowing river, he had leaned over and kissed her. Full on the lips. Mouth open. Tongue gently asking for entry between her surprised lips.

Then came the rush. A wild, swift, painful release of pleasure that had made her gasp.

He had deepened the kiss at that moment, taking advantage of her momentary start to delve inside and claim her mouth for his own in a way no boy had ever done. And in that instant, she had known this was a man’s kiss, given to a woman. She had responded in kind.

When they had pulled apart, both had been breathing in deep, harsh drafts. They had taken another sip of champagne from the plastic stemmed flutes, their eyes never leaving each other as they drank a wordless toast.

When the flutes were empty, he had tossed them into the back and slid across the space between the bucket seats. Then he’d lifted her into his arms and settled her across his lap. They’d kissed again.

For her, it was as if the heavens had opened and poured all its blessings on them. Happiness, like golden raindrops, splashed through her spirit, and rainbows formed, faded and reformed behind her closed eyelids.

She’d been to parties. She’d been kissed. But not like this. Nothing would ever be like this total bliss, this blending of hearts and minds and spirits. She sensed they had changed. They had gone from best friends to lovers in a single melding of the lips and their spirits.

“You taste like honey,” he murmured, leaving her mouth and tracing a path to her ear. “Like hot honey.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “I am hot…achy hot…”

His body pressed urgently against hers. She felt the rigid length of him against her thigh and wasn’t shocked at the blatant evidence of his desire. Then she was a little shocked…at herself. She’d never been this close to a male, had never felt an erection, but the knowledge only excited her more.

Because it was Spence. And because she trusted him—her best friend, her lover. She shivered in anticipation.

“Spence,” she whispered as a thread of desperation unwound inside her. “The yearning…make it go away.”

“I will,” he said just as fervently. “We will. Together.” He caressed her back, then slipped one hand under her hair to nestle against her scalp.

This time the kiss was explosive, filled with needs they had never dared confess, much less share. She whimpered and moaned. Sometimes she sighed. The kiss went on.

Driven to boldness, she pushed her hands under his T-shirt and found the heated expanse of smooth skin laced with hard muscle. There was hair on his chest. Not a lot, but enough to fascinate while she ran her fingers through it.

He groaned and pressed her hands flat against him. “Yes, Ally, touch me. In any way you want. For as long as you want. It feels…too good,” he muttered.

She thrilled at the shudder that passed through his lean, muscular body. When his hands began a gentle exploration along her waist, she held her breath, wanting…needing…

“Yes,” she said on a sigh when his hand slid over her hot, hot flesh, along her back, down her sides and up her middle. He hesitated then he cupped her breast, taking its weight into his hand.

His heart pounded in unison with hers as the tension escalated to dizzy heights. Her nipple drew into a tight bud against his palm. He rubbed in circles until spirals of sensation echoed down into her core. Breaking the kiss, she pressed her face into his shoulder and bit, very gently, into the strong cords of his neck.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, appalled that she wanted to bite him. It was something she’d never done.

“No, it’s okay. That didn’t hurt. Bite me some more. I like it. I like anything you do.”

His smile flashed white and quick in the deepening night. Her smile was hesitant. She’d never felt this way, so certain and yet so unsure. It was odd…

He dipped his head and nibbled at her lips. She caught his bottom lip between her teeth and sucked. He drew a harsh breath. Against her breasts, his heart bucked like a rodeo bronco gone wild. Hers went wild with him.

“Ally, I want to see you. Do you mind?”

The question was undemanding, eager but patient. Tears sprang into her eyes. “You are so gentle,” she said.

“I want to be gentle. I wouldn’t do anything to scare you. Do you believe me?”

“Yes.”

He urged her to rest against the car door. His hands went to her blouse. One by one, he unfastened the row of tiny buttons shaped like bows, white against the blue cotton. Her white bra looked dainty, almost flimsy against her tan. She moved instinctively to cross her hands over her chest, then placed them instead around him, sliding one behind him, the other resting on his upper arm.

He smiled again, his gaze catching hers and holding it while he laid a broad hand over her tummy and caressed. “You are so innocent,” he said, almost as if he spoke to himself.

“I am…I mean, I haven’t…”

“I know what you mean. Neither have I.”

He dropped a quick kiss on her mouth, then, looking into her eyes, slid his hands behind her. She felt him pause, then his fingers glided beneath her bra on each side of the hook that held it closed.

“Are you comfortable with this? I can stop at any time. Just say the word.”

She considered, then shook her head, not wanting him to stop. He understood her meaning.

After unfastening the hooks he pushed the blouse off her shoulders. The bra came with it. He carefully laid them over the steering wheel. His eyes came back to her.

“I’m not—”

“Shh,” he said. “You’re beautiful. May I?”

Spellbound, she watched as he tested each tip with his tongue. She closed her eyes and rubbed his shoulders, his neck, threaded her fingers into his hair. He kissed her breasts until they tingled. He drew magic circles that spun off madly into her body and collided with the spirals he’d already caused.

“I want us to touch…my skin, yours,” she tried to explain. “I need to touch all over….”

He leaned away from the seat and stripped his T-shirt off over his head. When he pulled her against him, hot smooth flesh against hot smooth flesh, she trembled as their need reached the flaming point.

“Spence, that’s…that’s…it feels…”

“Incredible,” he murmured. “Ah, Ally, you are so incredibly sweet.”

She writhed against him. He caressed her with sweet movements and shrugs of his body against hers, satisfying and feeding her passion at the same instant.

He fed on her lips. She sipped from his. She learned the shape of his teeth, the points and edges, that the bottom one wasn’t quite even with the others. He explored the texture of her mouth, the smooth flesh behind her lips, showed her the velvety tracing of tongue on tongue.

His movements were sure. There was a maturity about him, a manliness, she had never noticed. It reached deep into her soul.

In turn, she felt a blossoming inside, in a hidden glen that now felt the kiss of the sun warming the loamy earth, readying it for spring and new growth.

“Straddle me,” he requested.

His hands on her waist lifted her. He had strength she hadn’t suspected, her weight easy to him. She swung her leg over his thighs. He settled her against him.

“Oh,” she said as entirely new sensations erupted.

“Now be still,” he ordered and gave a short, self-deprecating laugh. “You have me on the edge. One slip and I’ll go right over.”

His confession thrilled her in ways she couldn’t name. Her blood flowed with golden lava, with champagne bubbles and laughter.

“Me, too,” she said, biting desperately, carefully, on his shoulder. “I’m the same, so…so…” She didn’t know the words.

“Very much so,” he agreed.

He found the bow that closed the drawstring to her summer slacks. It opened when he tugged. Then he slipped his hands inside the material and cupped her bottom. She fit her breasts to his chest.

“We’re hot, you and I,” she whispered. “Our skin, it’s like fire on fire.”

“I went up in smoke a long time ago. You’re just now catching up.”

When he moved slightly, she gasped as tremor after tremor of need arced through her.

“See?” he said.

He smiled again, and it was so tender she could have wept had there been time. But he was kissing her again, and the stars dropped from their orbits and into her soul.

She didn’t know how long they kissed and touched each other. Forever, it seemed.

The moon spread a molten path of silver across the river as it rose higher. Still they kissed.

And kissed.

At last she knew it had to stop or they had to go further. “This isn’t enough,” she complained, panting lightly, placing carefully spaced kisses along his collarbone and down his chest as far as she could reach. “This has got to…to finish.”

He groaned and caught her to him, pulling her hands behind her back and holding them there.

“Let me touch you,” she requested and pressed hard against the ridge in his jeans.

“No.”

She rose slightly on her knees and rubbed against him.

“Don’t.”

This time the tone was stern, older, the disciplined male taking command instead of letting her do as she wished in their love play.

“Why?”

He kissed her eyes instead of answering when she stared at him in the shadowy moonlight. She leaned farther back and looked at him, beginning to feel hurt and confused.

“Don’t hate me,” he said.

She was surprised. “I don’t. I never would—”

He laid his mouth over hers until the words were stilled. “We have something special. We shouldn’t have…It was my fault. I shouldn’t have let it go this far. I didn’t mean to—”

“What did you mean to do?”

“Talk.” He smiled briefly, almost sadly. “Share a kiss for old times’ sake. Not this…not this far, not this much. It was a…surprise.”

His explanation made no sense. “What?” she asked. “What was a surprise?”

He lifted her from him and moved to his seat. She suddenly felt chilled. When he handed her the clothing, she pulled it on hurriedly. After yanking his T-shirt over his head, he turned back to her, lifting her face to his with a finger under her chin. His expression was gentle, kind.

“Don’t be ashamed,” he ordered, reading her reaction correctly. “This was natural. It just wasn’t what I had planned. You’re my friend. I want to keep it that way.”

Pride made her face him without flinching. “I understand. I’d better get home. I have to get up at five to pick up my papers.” Fatigue swept over her as reality shoved its way into her consciousness.

He had driven them to town, away from the moonlight and its induced madness, her heart too numb to ache. Yet…

Ally picked up her coffee cup. It was empty. She realized she’d been sitting there for an hour, reliving the past. Frowning, she jumped to her feet. The day was wasting. Where were the men who were supposed to be working on the house?

The ringing of the doorbell jarred Ally out of a sound sleep. She sat up on the sofa and wondered who was so darned impatient at her front door. She noted the afternoon was half over and still no carpenters.

She checked the peephole and opened the door. “Hello, James. What happened to you?”

The carpenter’s son stood on the porch, his arm in a cast from fingers to elbow. “Uh, Dad and I, we had a wreck this morning on our way over.”

“Oh, no! How’s your father? Is he hurt?”

James nodded, his summer-blond hair falling over his forehead in a carefree manner, belying the seriousness of his face. “He’s in the hospital, leg broke in three places. They’ll have to put pins in it.”

“I’m so sorry. Was anyone else in the truck? Your mom?”

“No, just the two of us. The guy in the dump truck wasn’t hurt at all. He just barged through a red light and mowed us down.”

She tsked in sympathy. “Come in out of the heat,” she invited, opening the door wider. “I have some tea—”

“I need to get back to the hospital and stay with my mom. They’re gonna operate on the old man as soon as the surgeon gets there. He’s out playing golf or something.” He gestured vaguely with one hand. “I don’t think we’ll get back to your job for two or three months.”

She thought that was an optimistic estimate. “Don’t worry about it. I can do the painting myself.”

He nodded, looking miserable. “I called several buddies but they’re all working on the new construction job over on the other side of town. You know, the fancy apartment complex they put in over by the lake.”

She knew where he meant. Spence had moved into a bachelor apartment there last February. The planned community was modern and had lots of activities for singles, she’d heard.

“Don’t worry about a thing here,” she assured the young carpenter. “I’ll take care of it. Or it’ll be waiting for you when you’re able to work again.”

“Thanks. Well, I’d better run.”

“Tell your dad I said hello and to take care. You, too.”

He nodded and loped off, his hair flopping against his collar until he pulled on a baseball cap, the bill backwards. She smiled, feeling much older than the injured twenty-five-year-old. Seven years. It could be the difference between one lifetime and the next.

Of course, one night could do the same.

After those wild kisses, from the time Spence had dropped her off, making sure she was safely inside her aunt’s house, and the dawn of the next day, she had aged considerably. The bubbles had evaporated from her blood and her mind. She had taken a good hard look at herself.

Her looks were not extraordinary. Her thick hair, which had some natural curl, was okay, she supposed. And when she was eighteen, it still had some gold in it. Her friends at school had been envious. Big blond hair was in.

Her eyes were a nice shade of blue, but her lashes were short and a medium sort of brown. So were her eyebrows. Her hair would probably be the same when she grew older.

But she didn’t mind working hard. And she was well-organized. She could take on a lot of tasks, even drudgery.

With her aunt’s blessings and some savings left over from her parents’ insurance, plus her paper route, baby-sitting and lawn mowing money, she’d started classes at the local college the week after graduation and had devoted the next six years of her life to earning degrees, with only a short break for a honeymoon between classes.

Going into the bedroom to change into fresh clothes before picking up the twins, she wondered when she’d had time to date Jack, not to mention get married and take over home responsibilities, too. She must have been crazy…..

No. Lonely. The haunting sadness strummed through her again. Her college days had been busy, but she lived them basically alone, running from work to class and back to work. There’d been little time for fun.

During her senior year, her aunt had decided to sell the house, the only home Ally had known since she was eleven, and move to a retirement community in a warmer climate.

When her aunt had told her, Ally had realized she would have no one nearby. She’d lived in an apartment in Durango while completing her studies, but she’d spent one Sunday each month with her only relative.

At least it had been contact with a person who had some kind of bond with her. In fact, she and her aunt had dealt very well with each other once she was grown.

Ally thought the responsibility for rearing a child had weighed on her aunt, who had never been around children much. Now they visited once or twice a year, usually with Ally going down to the senior citizens’ community at Tucson in early spring and her aunt coming to Buttonwood for Thanksgiving. It was a satisfying arrangement.

She wondered if the visits would continue now that she had two children to raise. That would probably frighten her aunt into moving to Florida or somewhere equally remote.

Grabbing her handbag, she headed for the garage, her spirits high once more as she went to claim the children she’d wanted for so long. She laughed as she backed out of the drive, the two infant seats already strapped into the back of the family-size vehicle.

One thing for sure, she wouldn’t be lonely for the next eighteen to twenty years.