44 Cranberry Point. Debbie MacomberЧитать онлайн книгу.
her like…like warm sunshine. That was all she could compare it to, the life-giving warmth so absent today. A light drizzle had begun and they walked a little faster, still gazing at each other.
“I love you,” she mouthed.
“I can hardly wait to show you how much I love you.” Then, as if the question had only now occurred to him, he asked, “You don’t have to go back to work, do you?”
She toyed with the idea of letting him worry, but couldn’t make herself do it. “As a matter of fact, Mr. Cox gave me all three days off.” She handed Ian the car keys, and he promptly unlocked their vehicle.
“I like your boss more and more.”
Cecilia did, too, especially now that Mr. and Mrs. Cox had remarried. The office became a much more relaxed place once the couple reunited. But it wasn’t the Coxes on Cecilia’s mind as Ian drove to their duplex. They met each other’s eyes frequently but didn’t speak much. Ten minutes later they were home.
“Did you bring back everything I sent you?” Cecilia asked in a husky voice when Ian parked in their assigned spot. They’d moved into military housing just before his most recent deployment, when a unit became available.
“That was very sadistic of you, wife,” Ian said, his eyebrows drawing together.
Had she not known him so well, Cecilia might think he hadn’t been amused by her small prank. The gleam in his eyes told her otherwise. For each of the last three weeks before he was due home, Cecilia had sent him one piece of a sheer negligee outfit. With the last piece, she’d included a note that promised she’d wear it for him when he got back. In his last e-mail to her, she could almost hear him panting.
“I hope you realize you’ve created a monster with that little trick of yours.”
“A monster I’m eager to tame,” she whispered, leaning over to kiss him.
“Oh, honey…” He broke off the kiss. “Let’s get inside-fast.”
“Aye, aye,” she said dreamily, saluting him.
Ian slid out the driver’s side and dashed around the front of the car. He opened the passenger door, helped her out and grabbed his duffel bag from the back. Giggling with excitement, they ran through the light rain toward their duplex. Ian was all thumbs as he struggled to unlock their door.
Cecilia had cleaned the place until it sparkled. The sheets on their bed were fresh and turned down, the bedroom shades drawn. After six months of separation she’d known they wouldn’t want to wait to make love.
As soon as they got inside, Ian dropped his duffel and reached out for her. Cecilia came willingly, throwing her arms around his neck. He hoisted her up and headed directly for the bedroom. The second they cleared the door, Ian kissed her again, his mouth open and moist, moving urgently against hers.
He released her and immediately started undressing.
“You want me to put on that black nightie for you?” she asked.
“Next time,” Ian said, his breathing shallow as he sat on the bed and quickly removed his shoes.
“One more thing…”
He gave her a questioning glance.
She knelt behind him on the bed and rested her chin on his bare shoulder. “I think there’s something you should know.”
“It can’t wait?”
“Well, it could, but I figure this is something you might want to know.”
“What?” he growled, turning toward her. He grabbed her around the waist, and his dark eyes bore into hers.
Cecilia smiled at her husband, smoothing her hands down his muscular shoulders, loving the feel of him. “I’m thinking this afternoon would be a wonderful time to make a baby.”
Ian’s eyes flared briefly. “I thought you were on the pill.”
Her smile broadened as she slowly shook her head. “Not anymore. I tossed them into the garbage six months ago.”
He frowned.
“With you at sea, there wasn’t any need for me to be on birth control. Besides-”
“You didn’t start again when you knew I was coming home?”
“Nope.”
“But-but you knew when I was due back.”
“I did…and I’ve been greatly anticipating your homecoming,” she purred.
“But, sweetheart, you never said a word! I don’t have anything to protect you from pregnancy.”
“Who says I want protection? What I want, sailor man,” she whispered, “is a baby.”
Ian went completely still.
“Ian?”
Her husband straightened, sitting on the side of the bed with his back to her. “Don’t you think this is something we should’ve discussed first?”
“We’re…we’re discussing it now.”
“At the last possible moment.”
“You don’t want a baby?”
Ian stood then and faced her. His shoulders were bare and his pants half unzipped. He rubbed his hand over his eyes as if her question had overwhelmed him. “I do want children, but not yet.”
“I thought-”
“It’s too soon, sweetheart.”
“It’s been three years.” Her desire for a child had grown progressively stronger in the months Ian had been at sea. It made sense to complete her schooling before getting pregnant again, but she’d done that and found a wonderful job. “I’m ready, Ian.”
His shoulders sagged. “I’m not…I can’t risk getting you pregnant.” He zipped his pants and picked up his shirt, yanking it on and shoving his arms into the sleeves. He fastened the buttons with record speed and scooped the car keys from the dresser.
Cecilia bit her lip. He was right; she should’ve mentioned it earlier. They’d communicated almost daily via e-mail, and phone calls whenever possible. There’d been ample opportunity to discuss the matter long before his arrival home.
Ian walked out of the bedroom, then turned back at the door. “Stay right there,” he said, pointing in her direction.
“Where are you going?”
His laugh was weak with impatience. “To the drugstore. Stay where you are, okay? I’ll be back before you know it.”
It felt as if the sun had disappeared behind a dark cloud.
Perhaps, deep down, Cecilia had known this would be Ian’s reaction. Her husband was afraid of another pregnancy, afraid of what it would do to her physically and what it might do to them as a couple.
Cecilia understood why he felt that way because she’d faced those same fears herself. She’d believed-or wanted to believe-that Ian, too, had moved past them. Apparently she’d been wrong.
Chapter Three
With a sense of joy and celebration, Maryellen Sherman carried the heavy cardboard box out of her rental house and set it in the trunk of her car. Soon she’d be living with Jon Bowman-married to him.
After all this time it hardly seemed possible. The barriers between them had been lowered. No longer could she disguise her love for him. Nor did she have to; they’d admitted their feelings for each other. The misunderstandings were over, pride and anger put aside.
Jon followed with a second box, which he set next to the first. He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, silently letting her know how pleased he was that they