Another Love, page 4
When Blake was especially withdrawn or demanding, Erin could almost hear Glenna’s voice, cautioning her sometimes to give him time and space, and other times to offer comfort and companionship. Tonight, Erin felt compelled to keep Blake company, to try and ease the loneliness that surrounded him like a shroud.
“Thank you for spending time with Timmy this afternoon.” If Blake felt like talking about anything, he would join in conversation about the little boy he’d come to care deeply for.
“He’s a great kid. I enjoy his company. Are you feeling all right?” he asked, his attention focusing on the bulging stomach Erin didn’t think could grow much larger in the next four weeks.
“He’s worried about you. Say something funny.”
“As fine as a watermelon can feel when it’s getting just about ripe,” Erin quipped. She must be going nuts, the way she’d started to heed the disembodied voice that popped into her head more often lately. But she couldn’t seem to ignore it.
“That’s the way, Erin, make him smile. He really isn’t the stuffed shirt he tries so hard to be. Say something else to make him laugh.”
It was Glenna, urging her to lighten up Blake’s brooding mood. It had to be. Erin didn’t quite know whether to laugh or scream.
Wondering for about the hundredth time if she was going quietly crazy, Erin looked at Blake to see if he, too, had heard that soft, smiling voice. Obviously he hadn’t. If he had, he wouldn’t have been grinning and sliding her way to place a gentle hand on her tummy.
“He’s being quiet tonight?”
It was more a question than a statement. Blake sounded disappointed—probably because the baby hadn’t chosen this moment to practice kick-boxing against his hand.
Heeding Glenna’s eerie advice, Erin searched her mind for another quip that might make Blake smile. “For the moment. But that could change mighty fast.” Just then, the baby kicked, and Blake followed its motion with his hand.
“I think I feel a foot here.” Excited, he pressed a little harder at the right side of Erin’s abdomen. “Or maybe it’s a hand. How big is the baby now?”
“Big enough to come out, I think.”
Blake smiled again. Erin wished he could always be cajoled so easily from the depression that often surrounded him like a dark cloud obscures the sun before a storm.
Blake was a paradox—unsure about his feelings for the baby Glenna had wanted so much, yet unable to squelch the feelings of awe and pride as he followed the development of that baby. Unmistakable sensuality, even a sort of sexual tension, passed between them more often now. Neither wanted it, but neither could discount its existence. The tension stemmed from the soon-to-be-born baby they’d created together, Erin guessed. However tenuous, a link was there and she couldn’t ignore it. Most of the time, though, Blake’s touch felt impersonal—detached from sexuality, affection, or any emotion at all.
“Keep trying, my friend. You know, I can’t say it doesn’t make me feel good that he loved me so much. But he has to get over the grief, get on with his life.”
This time, when Erin looked up, Glenna had materialized in the corner of the room. Erin glanced at Blake, but since his expression hadn’t changed, she guessed he hadn’t seen the pesky ghost.
She looked back toward to the spot where she had seen Glenna seconds earlier. But she saw only sunlight reflecting on that now-familiar haze of golden dust. Then the aura dissipated and there was nothing at all.
* * * * *
“I think Blake is going to make it after all,” Greg told Sandy as they finished eating take-out Chinese in his apartment. He hoped so. He’d never seen anyone as devastated as Blake had been when Glenna died.
“I think so, too. Right now, though, I’d rather be thinking about us.” Sandy reached out and stroked his forearm with a silky hand.
Greg grabbed her arm, giving her finger a playful nip before taking it gently into his mouth and sucking. “You taste better than the food, sweetheart.” He got up from the table and drew Sandy into his arms.
“I love you.” Her soft breath when she spoke tickled his ear.
He believed her the way he’d never thought he’d believe a woman again. He loved her too, and he wished to hell he had the right to tell her so. Maybe soon he would.
It had very nearly been worth spending his free afternoon without Sandy and letting his spoiled daughter cajole him for more money just like her mother always had, to hear Shana’s latest gripe. It seemed her mother, his first wife, was about to sink her perfectly manicured talons into another, bigger fish. Greg hoped to hell that this time, Kay wouldn’t let her victim slip away so he’d be freed of a big chunk of alimony. Alimony that would grind to a halt the day Kay remarried.
“Soon, sweetheart,” Greg murmured. Maybe soon he’d be free to tell her how he felt. To ask her to share his life. Meanwhile he wanted to seduce the only woman who’d ever made him feel ten feet tall and invincible.
He had a colleague taking emergency calls, no mothers threatening to have problems at the moment, a box of condoms in the drawer of his bedside table, and a burning need to see how many of them he and Sandy could use in the long, silent hours before morning. Tomorrow would be soon enough to see if just maybe he might have a future to offer Sandy along with his deep, abiding love.
“Come with me, sweetheart. I’ve got something in my shower I’m sure you want to see.” He scooped her in his arms and carried her into his small, utilitarian bathroom.
“In here?” Sandy squealed when he set her down and started peeling off his clothes.
Greg reached in the shower and turned on the water. “Come on, help me here. Get those clothes off. Haven’t you ever had sex in the shower?”
“No. But it sounds like fun.”
God, but she turned him on. More than any woman he’d ever had—including the two he’d married. Impatient, he slid her skirt and panties down her long, firm legs, bending to nuzzle the blonde curls that hid her sex.
“Oooh. Greg, that feels delicious. But aren’t we supposed to go get wet?”
He separated her labia and blew gently on her clit, loving the way she was already glistening and wet, the way her clit tightened at the slightest stimulation. “Yeah. Come on. I want to lather up every inch of your hot little body.” He lifted her against his chest and stepped into the warm spray. “I want you to touch me, too. All over.”
“Oh, yes.” Sandy skimmed her fingers over his chest, tangling them in the dark, incredibly soft hair that narrowed when it neared his navel and fanned out to the glorious bush that cushioned his big, hard penis. “You’re a beautiful man.” She punctuated her statement with a series of soft nips along his throat and down his body.
“Nah. You’re the beauty. Damn, baby, what did I ever do without you?” He went to his knees, spreading her legs apart and taking her aching clit between his teeth.
Water sluiced over his dark, handsome face, making it glow in the fluorescent overhead light. Sandy threaded her fingers through his dark, wavy hair, pressing him closer as he worked his magic on her pussy. His tongue felt like hot wet velvet on her clit. So good. So intimate.
More intimate than his hands cupping her butt cheeks. The most intimate experience she’d ever had, and he alone had given it. The first time, when she’d perched on his desk after work one day, she’d been embarrassed. Now she loved it…loved the man who hadn’t been her first lover but had been the first to coax out a climax.
Her pussy muscles clenched around his fingers when he found and massaged her G-spot. And when he opened his mouth over her clit and sucked her hard, she exploded in a hard burst of sensation.
“Like that, did you?” he asked, standing and holding her close. His hard sex throbbed against her belly, invited her touch. Suddenly she wanted to give him what he’d given her.
Sliding down his body, she cupped his velvety scrotum and ran her tongue tentatively over the plum-like head of his penis, tasting the salty drop of fluid that had gathered in its dimpled slit. She rubbed her cheek against his hard-muscled thigh, loving the feel of his crisp body hair against her own smooth skin.
“Please, baby. Love me.” His voice sounded ragged, and he dug his fingers into her hair.
She could tell he wanted her to take him in her mouth. Surprisingly, she wanted that, too, though she’d never given head before. Could she take his long thick shaft that way?
She opened her mouth and took him in, her lips closing around the ridge and sliding down his shaft. “Oh, God, yeah. Like that.” His fingers tightened at her temples, and she took more of him, swirling her tongue over his smooth, hot flesh. “That’s it. Swallow it. Take my cock all the way down your throat.”
She swallowed, and he moaned. Again. Again. His grip on her tightened, and he pulled her away. “Feels so damn good. But you have to stop. For God’s sake stop. I want to come inside you.”
He shook with the effort of holding back but managed to roll on a condom after dragging Sandy to her feet. “Put your arms around me and hold on tight. We’re going to take a hot, wet ride.” With that he lifted her, impaled her on his pulsating cock, and wrapped her legs around his waist. Bracing her against the shower wall, he pounded into her hard, fast, triggering another shattering climax from her just as he shouted her name and gave in to his own explosive orgasm.
* * * * *
“Where’s Sandy? This is the first time I’ve seen you without her in weeks,” Blake commented the next morning when Greg walked into his office.
“At the office. This is between you and me—at least for now.” Greg looked a bit chagrined, which wasn’t unusual. He’d always been reticent about sharing his problems.
Blake couldn’t resist needling him a little. “When are you going to make an honest woman of my baby’s aunt?” Sure, he was kidding, but there was a grain of serious there, too because Erin worried about her sister and Greg’s intentions.
“I’m going to ask Sandy to be Mrs. Halpern Number Three so fast it will make your head spin—that is, if you can get either of my lovely former wives to take a hefty reduction in their blood money. You might try Kay first. Shana said she’s thinking about remarrying.”
Blake leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. Greg had certainly managed to find two of the most grasping females he’d ever had the misfortune of meeting. Making another probably futile effort to extricate his friend from the alimony nightmares Kay and her successor had inflicted upon him wasn’t high on his list of things he wanted to do.
“If Kay remarries, the alimony stops,” Blake had hated family law in school and had taken Greg’s cases in hand only because he pitied his friend for the way his original divorce attorneys had botched their jobs. “I’ll look over the files again and see if there’s any flaw I can use to justify asking for a review of the judges’ respective orders. Does your accountant have current financial information put together?”
“Yeah. There’s not all that much for him to record,” Greg told him with a self-deprecating grin. “I’m serious. I’m barely surviving.”
“Did you ever think of raising your fees?”
“I have. Regularly. I’m the most expensive damn OB-GYN in Dallas, unless Sam Harrell jacked up his prices again this month. Seriously, there’s a limit to how much most people will pay to have a healthy baby—and insurance companies are squeezing us greedy doctors more with every passing day.”
Blake got up and poured himself another cup of coffee. “You want some more?”
“No thanks. I have to get back to the office. What are my chances?”
“I’ll let you know after I’ve taken a fine-tooth comb to the papers. Come on, I’ll walk you to the elevator.”
* * * * *
In the past week, Blake had read the four-inch thick file that documented Greg’s two divorces in stilted legalese, several times. Now, though, he devoured each page in minute detail, looking for any irregularity he might have overlooked upon more cursory examination.
The yellow pad he’d used to note possible loopholes was pathetically close to blank when he finished his review and set the fat folder on the corner of his desk. Greg’s best hope for relief from court-ordered poverty was that Kay Halpern would hook the fish Greg said she currently had on the line. In spite of his pessimism about gaining Greg relief in the courts, Blake picked up a cassette recorder and began dictating the petitions to reopen alimony and support hearings. He’d just finished dictating the first petition when his secretary, Sharon Raston, apologetically interrupted.
“Your housekeeper is on line two,” she told him. “I wouldn’t have disturbed you, but she sounds upset.”
“I’ll talk to her. Thanks, Sharon.” Flipping off the recorder, he punched the blinking button on his speaker phone. “What is it, Mary?”
“It’s Mrs. Winters. She twisted her ankle and fell, out by the pool.”
“Is she hurt?”
“She says she’s all right. I helped her up and into her room. She’s lying down now.”
It angered Blake that Erin resisted accepting most of the help he wanted to give her. Still, he admired her stubborn streak of independence. He doubted she’d admit being hurt unless she was at death’s door. “How is she, really, Mary?”
“I think her doctor ought to check her out. It’s awfully close to her time to have the baby.”
“Then have Miguel drive her to Doctor Halpern’s office. I’ll meet her there.”
Mary sounded distressed. “Miguel isn’t here. This is his day off. Do you want me to call an ambulance?”
“No. She wouldn’t appreciate that, not when she’s insisting she isn’t hurt. Just make sure she stays in bed until I get home. I’m leaving now.”
“Shall I call Doctor Halpern?”
“I’ll call him from the car.” He snatched up his suit coat and bolted for the elevator.
“Will you be back?” Sharon asked as he strode past her desk.
“I don’t know. You’d better cancel my afternoon appointments. I’ll be in touch.” Not waiting for Sharon to reply, Blake sprinted toward the parking garage.
If he ignored speed limits and got breaks in traffic, he figured he could cut a good ten minutes off his usual half-hour commute. When he pulled his powerful Mercedes onto the interstate, he watched the speedometer needle climb to ninety before setting the cruise control. Thanking fate for the light midday traffic, he tried not to dwell on the various tragic outcomes that ran through his head.
He wasn’t having much luck, especially after pulling off the expressway and onto the narrow, winding road where he had no choice but to slow down. She could lose his baby. Glenna’s baby…no, the baby belonged to him and the woman who now held it in her body. Had it been it just a few months ago that he’d wanted—no, demanded, he corrected himself with scrupulous honesty—that Erin destroy the life that had come to mean so much to him?
His lips moved, silently mouthing the words to prayers he hadn’t thought about since childhood. He prayed for the baby, for Erin, and selfishly for himself, because facing the fact he might lose his child made him realize what an important part of his life that baby had become.
More important than anything except having Glenna back.
He wanted to see and hold the tiny child whose movement in Erin’s womb enthralled him every time he felt and saw it. As he turned into the drive that led to his house, he made a silent pact with himself.
If his son or daughter was unhurt, nothing could keep him from giving that child the most secure, caring family that any child could want. He’d let nothing stand in his way, not even his own grief.
As he carried Erin to his car, and while he drove her sanely to Greg’s office, plans formed in his mind to secure the life he wanted for their child.
* * * * *
“Greg didn’t say I needed to stay in bed,” Erin protested as Blake settled her in the center of her bed and pulled the covers up over her tummy. “He said rest, not confine myself like an invalid. I need to spend some time with my son.”
“Timmy is polishing off the burgers we brought home for him, and practicing his letters with Mary. I told him that if he behaved, I’d join him later and we’d play some video games before he goes to sleep.”
“Thanks for stopping by McDonald’s. I’m sure it wasn’t your first choice for lunch, but Timmy loves their burgers and fries. To tell the truth, so do I.”
Blake shrugged. He’d felt downright foolish, going into the McDonald’s near Greg’s office, dressed in a suit and tie, and eating a Big Mac. “It was your choice. I thought we had something to celebrate after Greg said your fall hadn’t done you or baby any harm.”
“I told you all I hurt was my pride and the skin on my hands and knees. And I don’t need to be put to bed like a half-witted child. You don’t have the right to dictate every move I make.”
“Give it up. Indulge me. Anyhow, I’ve been doing some serious thinking. We need to talk, and we may as well do it right here while you relax.”
“All right.” As if resigned to hearing him out, Erin adjusted the pillows behind her back and shifted onto her side. “This is about the only comfortable lying-down position I’ve found lately.”
“I can imagine.” Blake smiled. In the last week or so, it seemed she’d literally grown rounder every day.
“You wanted to talk?”
“Yes. I think we should marry.”
Erin’s eyes widened and her mouth gaped open. He assumed from her shocked expression that he’d have to present the arguments he’d mentally prepared to support this merger. He didn’t doubt that the lady would put up a spirited defense.
He laid a hand on her belly. “Both of us care for this baby. We both want him or her to have a loving, stable home life. Who could provide a better home for our son or daughter than you and I, together?”
