Читать книгу Expecting Thunder's Baby - Sheri WhiteFeather, Sheri WhiteFeather - Страница 6

“You’re supposed to talk me out of this,” Carrie said to her mom.

Daisy shook her head. She was sitting on Carrie’s sofa and was wearing pleated pants and a short-sleeved top. Her makeup had been carefully applied and her chestnut-brown hair was coiffed just so, courtesy of the beauty salon she’d been patronizing for over twenty years.

“It’s just a vacation,” Daisy said.

“With my ex-husband.” Carrie was too edgy to sit. She stood beside the gas fireplace she rarely used. The brick mantel was empty—no knickknacks, no family photos—a reminder that she was a longtime divorcée with no children.

“It’s a bit late for this conversation.” Daisy sipped a glass of instant lemonade. “You already told Thunder that you’d go with him.”

And now she was a nervous wreck, wondering what she’d got herself into. “He wasn’t supposed to come back into my life.”

“But he did, and you’re swayed by him. If you don’t do this, you’ll regret it.”

“You’re swayed by him, too.” Frustrated, Carrie glanced at her fingernails, where she’d picked at the week-old polish. “You’re taking his side.”

When the older woman set her drink on the coffee table, her hand lingered, showcasing a manicure that was fresh and glossy. “He loved you, honey. You know he did.”

Carrie’s heart lurched. “He never even said it.”

“But you know it’s true. You know how much he cared.”

“But I wanted him to say it.”

“So tell him that. Tell him how you feel.”

“After all this time?”

“Why not?” Daisy asked. “Besides, I think he still loves you.”

Good grief. She looked at the woman who’d given her life. “You only see what you want to see.”

“Thunder’s mother sees it, too. Margaret told me that her son has been lonely without you.”

“Lonely?” Carrie snorted. “When? In between all of his affairs?”

“Margaret thinks he does that to keep his mind off you.”

“Right. Twenty years of playing around to make up for a short-lived marriage with me. He may have done that in the beginning, but somewhere along the way he started to enjoy that lifestyle.”

“And now he wants to spend time with you.” Daisy stood up. “Just go to California, honey. Give him a chance.”

Carrie sighed. Arguing with her mother was pointless. “It doesn’t hurt that he lives at the beach.”

“Or that he still loves you.”

“Give it a rest, Mom.”

“Well, he does.” Daisy flashed a matchmaker’s smile, then went into the kitchen to put her glass in the sink.

Five minutes later, she left the condo, waving to her daughter. Carrie stood at the doorway and watched her go.

And that was when Thunder showed up and ran into Daisy. He greeted her on the walkway, exchanging friendly words and giving her a heartfelt hug.

After the older woman departed, he headed for Carrie’s condo. She still stood in the doorway, and when he noticed her, her pulse skittered.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I’m making sure you don’t change your mind.”

“I almost did.”

He moved closer, then stopped in front of her, making her much too aware of the words he’d never spoken, the love he’d never confessed.

“I figured you’d try to bail out,” he said.

“My mom was supposed to talk me out of going with you.”

“Fat chance of that.” He nudged her inside. “She wants us to get back together.”

Carrie frowned at him. “She told you that?”

“No. But it’s obvious. With my mom, too.” He took her hand and led her toward the stairs. “Let’s go to your room. To get you packed,” he added, before she could pull away from him.

“Are you this aggressive with the other women in your life?” By now, she was going upstairs with him, letting him call the shots and hating herself for it.

“You’re the only one who’s ever been difficult.” They reached her room, and he studied her unmade bed. “But it’s okay. I like the challenge.”

“Good thing.” She finally pulled away from him. “Because I intend to keep you at arm’s length.”

“Does that mean you’re not going to sleep with me?”

“Afraid so.” She opened the closet and removed her suitcase. Packing made sense, considering they were driving to California tomorrow.

“Then we’ll focus on being friends.” He sent her a bad-boy grin. “While I’m trying to seduce you.”

Carrie knew she was doomed. That sooner or later, she would end up in his bed, hot and hungry and stupidly naked. But she wasn’t about to admit it, at least not out loud. “I’m tougher than I look, Thunder.”

“I’m aware of how tough you are.” His grin faded. “I’ve got the divorce decree to prove it.”

She unzipped her suitcase and flung it open. “Literally or figuratively?”

“Literally. I kept the blasted thing as a reminder to never get married again.”

“Me, too.” It was in a safe-deposit box with other legal documents.

“We’re quite a pair.” He got nosy and looked through her closet, checking out her clothes, sliding hangers across the rod. “Bring this.” He grabbed a black cocktail dress. “And this.” A white suit with a glittery camisole attached. “For when we go someplace nice.”

“You’re going to wine and dine me?”

“It’s part of the seduction.” He tossed the fancy garments onto her bed. “Bring some slinky underwear, too. And a push-up bra if you have one. I like those lift-and-separate contraptions.”

“Too bad.” She went to her dresser, removing basic bras and prim cotton panties. “I’m not playing along with your seduction.”

“Spoilsport.”

When he turned his attention back to her closet, she crammed a push-up bra and a handful of thongs into her suitcase. Then she kept packing, wishing her heart wasn’t pounding so hard. Dangerous as it was, she wanted to make love with her ex-husband. And she wanted him to hold her afterward, to rekindle those tender moments from their youth. A tenderness she hadn’t felt since she was married to him.

He studied a pair of jeans. “Are these tight?”

“They stretch.”

“Kind of like rubber?” He flung them at her. “I’ll bet you look hot in them.”

She heaved the jeans back at him. “I don’t need you choosing my wardrobe.”

“Oh, yeah?” He snared her gaze, using those deep dark eyes as bait. “Then why did you sneak that sexy lingerie into your suitcase?”

Damn, she thought. He’d caught her, even while his back had been turned. But what did she expect? He was a security specialist, a man who’d been trained to be aware of his surroundings.

“Can’t a girl have a few secrets?” she said.

“Not with me around.” He sat on the edge of her unmade bed, crinkling the floral-printed sheets. “Can you take a longer vacation?”

“What? Why?” The change of topic threw her.

“Because I want you to stay with me for more than two weeks.”

She sat on the other edge of the bed, looking at him from across the rumpled linens. “I might be able to swing an extra week, but not if you keep bullying me.”

“Fine. You can choose your own wardrobe.” He stood up, blocking the window, shading the waning sunlight. “I’ve missed you, Carrie.”

Her chest turned tight. Was missing her the same as loving her? No, she thought. It wasn’t. Her mother was grasping at straws.

“I’ve missed you, too,” she admitted, telling herself it didn’t matter.

This wasn’t a reconciliation.

After her vacation ended, they would still be divorced.

Thunder’s beachfront property was a few feet from the sand, with a stretch of sidewalk separating the three-story structure from what could only be described as paradise.

Carrie couldn’t help but sigh. She stood beside Thunder in front of his house, with her suitcase in tow, looking out at the sea. “I’m impressed,” she said.

“I bought this place a while ago.” He gestured to the other buildings scattered along the sidewalk. “Most of these are vacation rentals, but I live here year-round.”

“I can understand why.” The ocean provided a sense of power, of peace, of beauty. Dusk settled in the sky, while the surf crashed upon the shore, leaving foaming waves in its infallible wake.

“As you can see, it’s not a private beach.” He indicated the shops and eateries farther along the walkway. “There’s always activity around here. But I like to people-watch.”

“You always did.” She did, too. Even now she was mesmerized by a young couple who were strolling hand in hand, heading in the direction of the restaurants.

“Are you ready to settle in?” he asked. “To unpack?”

She nodded, then glanced at the military-style duffel bag he’d used as luggage while visiting his parents. Old habits ran deep, she thought. Somewhere deep inside, Thunder was still a soldier. “You need to unpack, too.”

He unlocked the front door, carried their bags inside and disabled a sophisticated security system. She looked around, intrigued by the split-level structure. The foyer presented two sets of stairs, one leading to the top floor and the other leading to the bottom. The middle level, decorated with casual furniture, offered a spacious living room, a tidy kitchen and a half bath.

“I sleep upstairs. And the guest room is below.” He latched onto the handle of her suitcase. “Where do you want to sleep?” He charmed her with a smile. “The master suite has a balcony with a view of the beach.”

She shook her head, laughed a little. “We just got here, and already you’re trying to con me into sharing your room.”

“Is it working?”

“Nope.” She itched to kiss him, to taste all that machismo, but she wouldn’t dare. Playing hard to get was part of the game, part of protecting herself, of building up the courage to have a mind-spinning, dangerously thrilling, much-too-lethal affair with her ex. “I’ll take the guest quarters.”

“If you say so.” He led her downstairs, where a medium-size bedroom with a pine dresser and a mirrored closet awaited. The color scheme was blue, like the ocean she couldn’t see. Several small windows showcased the house next door.

“There’s another room down here,” he said. “It’s on the other side of the bathroom. I made it into a gym.”

She peered into the hallway and caught a glimpse of an open doorway, where his workout equipment gleamed. “This house fits you.”

“The master suite is the best part. Are you sure you don’t want to stay there with me?”

“I’m sure,” she said, even though her skin tingled with a dying-to-be-touched sensation, reminding her of how good it felt to be near him.

“Then I’ll let you unpack. After that, we can catch some dinner.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “Catch? We’re not going fishing, are we?”

He chuckled. “Not quite. I’m going to take you to the Crab and Clam. It’s within walking distance, and they serve the best .50 Calibers in town.”

“Is that a bullet or a drink?”

He chuckled again. “Both. But I was referring to the drink. It’s guaranteed to knock you on your ass.”

So would a .50-caliber bullet, she thought. “Getting me drunk won’t help your cause. I’m sleeping here tonight.” She patted the guest bed. “This is my safety net.”

“Yeah, but for how long?” He moved a little closer, flirting unmercifully.

She flirted, too. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“You’re driving me crazy, Carrie.”

“That’s the idea.” She unzipped her suitcase. “Is the Crab and Clam casual or dressy?”

“Casual.” He scanned the length of her. “They have a stripper pole in the middle of the bar.”

She sucked in a breath. “Sounds like a classy place.”

“It’s perfect for what I have in mind.” He reached out to touch her cheek, using the tips of his fingers, making her much too warm.

Then he walked out of the room, leaving her alone.

And wondering about the night ahead of them.

Thunder walked beside Carrie, with an ocean breeze stirring the air. The streetlights cast a warm glow, making the reddish strands in her hair more apparent. She’d changed into cropped pants, a lightweight blouse and a pair of tennis shoes. She blended into the scenery, like a girl who lived at the beach. But she didn’t. She was only visiting, becoming part of Thunder’s life for a minimal amount of time.

They reached the restaurant, a rustic establishment with seashells imbedded in the walls. They entered the building and waited to be seated.

“We’d like to eat in the bar,” Thunder told the hostess, who was the owner’s sun-and-surf daughter.

“Sure.” She gave him a familiar smile, recognizing him from the countless times he’d frequented the place. The locals all knew each other.

The hostess smiled at Carrie, too. Thunder had never brought a date to the Crab and Clam. He preferred to keep his favorite haunts to himself.

Until now.

He glanced at his ex-wife, remembering the vow they’d taken. Saying those words out loud had made him feel self-conscious. But he’d been enthralled, too. Fascinated by the girl he’d married.

After they were seated and the beverages they’d ordered were served, the waitress brought them a complementary relish platter.

Carrie scooted in her chair, then shot the stripper pole a wary look. Thunder smiled, enjoying the naughty connotation it provoked.

“No one uses it,” he said. “It’s just part of the decor.”

She reached for a celery stick, dipping it into the spicy dressing. “Then why is this place perfect for what you had in mind?”

“It got you thinking about taking off your clothes, didn’t it?”

“So it did.” She saluted him with the celery, then bit into it. “You certainly know how to make a girl react.”

“Want to give me a teaser?”

“No way,” she said, even though she leaned forward a little, offering him a quick peek down her top.

His zipper went tight. “That’s a good start.”

She sat upright, shooting him an I’m-going-to-win-this-round smile. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” He took a swig of his .50 Caliber, knowing he would be sleeping alone tonight.

Carrie sipped a cherry cola. She’d passed on the beverage that was guaranteed to knock her on her ass.

“What’s in that?” she asked, after he’d downed half the contents.