One Wild Night. Heidi RiceЧитать онлайн книгу.
to the door? If she let him stay, it would only make things much more difficult later.
Yeah, because I don’t want to get too used to having him around.
“Chris,” she whispered, only to be interrupted by her own jaw-cracking yawn.
Chris’s hand circled on her back until she completed the yawn and tried again. “Shh. Just sleep now. We’ll talk later.”
We should talk now, she told herself, even as her brain latched onto the idea of sleep and the weight pulled on her. But the soothing caress of Chris’s hands was too much to resist, and she started to slip away. But this is really nice, too, her body told her, already relaxing against him.
Just don’t get used to it, she reminded herself.
Ally’s breathing deepened, evening out as she slept, each exhale sliding across his bare chest like a caress. She talked in her sleep, mumbles he couldn’t understand. He tried to pick up a word here and there, but nothing she said made sense.
It would be too easy if, like in a movie, she’d tell me everything I needed to know while she was asleep. Insight into her thought process would help. A lot.
He knew Ally was humoring him, to a certain extent, simply because of the leverage his legal team gave him. He could tell by the wary look she couldn’t quite hide completely. But her response to him tonight hadn’t just been an attempt to play along. Passion had brought down that wall, revealing the Ally he remembered, and at least while she slept, she couldn’t argue with him.
Ally turned over and snuggled her back up against his side. Pushing up onto his elbow, he curved around her, spooning her to his chest. She sighed deeply in response.
Chris smoothed a hand down her arm and over her stomach, stopping at the flat plane beneath her navel.
Their child was right under his hand.
Something primal swept through him—a feeling of possessiveness, a need to protect. Slowly, an inkling of what had driven his father to battle his mother so ferociously dawned on him. It didn’t make what he had done right—far from it—but Chris was starting to understand the sentiment.
He didn’t want to fight Ally. To drag her and their child through the courts until one or all of them were destroyed by the process.
Ally mumbled in her sleep, and it brought a smile to his face. He was making the right decision; he knew that for certain now.
He closed his eyes, his hand still in place, rising and falling slightly with Ally’s breath. As he drifted toward sleep, he realized that, unlike for his father, that primal feeling extended to his child’s mother, too.
Ally woke to the smell of bacon. It didn’t make sense to her groggy brain. Her mom knew better than to drop by early in the morning or without warning, so it must be the neighbors upstairs. Why did they have to be so loud on a Saturday morning…
She rolled over, intending to put a pillow over her head and go back to sleep, but the mess of covers on the other side of the bed reminded her she hadn’t slept alone last night.
That memory caused her to sit up as the details fought for notice: a pair of men’s shoes on the floor by the door; her bra hanging drunkenly off the back of a chair; the noise and aroma coming from her kitchen…
Chris was still here. And he was now cooking breakfast.
She nibbled her thumbnail, unsure how she felt about that. One thing was for sure—she wasn’t going to take the risk of facing him naked with bedhead. She padded quickly to the bathroom, grabbed a robe and did her best to make herself presentable. She came out, still knotting the robe, just as Chris stuck his head around the corner.
“I thought I heard you.” His shirt was a bit wrinkled from a night on the floor, and a dark shadow traced his jaw, but he still looked too good for her equilibrium to handle. Especially when he grinned like that. “Are you hungry?”
After so many weeks of morning sickness, the absence of nausea felt strange. Maybe she was finally getting past it. Thank goodness. She nodded and let Chris lead her into the sunshine-lit kitchen.
She loved her kitchen. She loved to cook. But never in the three years she’d lived here had anyone cooked for her, so the neatly set table for two caught her off guard. It was a very simple breakfast, just bacon, toast and fruit with a cup of tea steaming invitingly on the side.
A lump rose in her throat. Chris had made her breakfast.
She tried to clear the lump. “It smells wonderful. Thank you.”
Chris just grinned at her again as he moved through her kitchen with ease, bringing milk and jam to the table. “I tried to keep it simple, as I wasn’t sure how the whole morning-sickness thing was going.”
“I think I’m getting over it. I’m certainly starving today.”
“Then eat.” He slid several strips of bacon onto her plate before sitting back to sip his coffee. The bacon was extra crispy without being burnt—just the way she liked it.
“You’re a good cook.”
Chris accepted the compliment with a nod of his head. Ally didn’t know what to say next. On the rare mornings Gerry had gotten up anywhere close to breakfast time, he’d read the paper while eating, claiming mornings were too early for civilized conversation. Since he’d moved out, she’d taken up the newspaper habit herself for lack of anyone to talk to. What did people talk about at breakfast?
Chris picked up the conversational ball, but as he asked, “When’s your next doctor’s appointment?” she wished for a different topic.
“End of this month. They’ll do the first ultrasound then.”
“I’ll be there. Just e-mail me the time and place.”
“You don’t have to—”
“But I want to, Ally.”
She nodded as she buttered her toast. “So when are you heading back to Charleston?”
One eyebrow went up. “Eager to get rid of me?”
Not at all. Where had that come from? Even with the slight awkwardness she felt, she kind of liked having him here, doing something simple and homey like eating breakfast. Don’t get used to it, she reminded herself. “You’re welcome to stay, but surely you have other things to do.”
“I do have to leave in a little bit. I have a club meeting this afternoon.” Much to her surprise, it wasn’t relief she felt at his words. If she was going to be honest with herself, she’d have to call that sinking feeling disappointment.
Chris leaned forward, his eyes lighting up. “There’s a race next Saturday—a short one just for fun and bragging rights. Would you like to come?”
Ally chewed her bite of bacon slowly, stalling for time. Chris was trying to include her in his life, and she got the feeling that inviting her to a race was a milestone of sorts. Maybe he really did want this to work out between them. Her chest expanded at the thought, and that raised an even bigger question.
Did she?
She could be her normal, cautious, rational self, or she could be the adventurous Ally she’d discovered on Tortola. Normal Ally said to keep her distance and stay safe; adventurous Ally wanted to take the chance, enjoy whatever came her way for as long as she could.
Good Lord, she was becoming as crazy as her family.
Chris reached over casually to refill her mug, and the simple gesture warmed her, making her feel she was making the right decision. “I’d love to see you race.”
His grin confirmed it.
Her phone rang, disturbing the coziness of the moment. Chris handed her the cordless handset from the counter, and she glanced at the caller ID. She set the phone down and picked up her tea instead.