Lone Star Millionaire (28 page)

“Scott, I don't know what to say—”

He cupped her left cheek in his palm. “Me, either.”

She looked into his eyes, saw the tension in the line of his mouth and felt the weight of everything separating them. She'd been such a fool to think this moment would never come. This was the point of no return. He had to know about the baby.

“Scott, there's something I have to tell you—”

He touched a finger to her lips to silence her. “Didn't you just say you don't know
what
to say? In my opinion, talking is highly overrated.”

He removed his finger, then lowered his head and with exquisite tenderness, touched his lips to hers. Thea couldn't
agree with him more about talking. Her heart stopped momentarily, then thumped painfully against the wall of her chest. His lips were soft and warm, and he nibbled hers for several seconds before nipping a spot just beside the corner of her mouth. Her fully charged nerve endings combusted on contact, sending all coherent thought down the tubes.

All she could think about was the way her skin was sensitized to his touch. Shivers and tingles danced over her body. It felt as if a boulder were sitting squarely on her chest, as if she couldn't draw enough air into her lungs.

And she didn't want to. She wanted only to concentrate on the feelings he generated inside her. She needed to touch and be touched. Like the last time she'd been with Scott, everything spiraled out of control as soon as he brushed his lips over hers.

He pulled her into his strong arms and trailed nibbling kisses over her cheek and jaw to that place he'd discovered just beneath her ear. When he touched the tip of his tongue there, it was like a lovely electric shock. Sensation arced through her and all she could think was that she wanted more. His tender touch filled the emptiness inside her and torched the banked fire of her need. Woulds, shoulds and coulds were burned away by the heat his mouth generated and the pleasure evoked by his warm hands as they moved tenderly up and down her spine.

He pulled back, his breathing ragged. “I didn't mean for that to happen. But I saw you and—” He shrugged as his mouth curved up on one side. “I just couldn't help myself. I'm sorry.”

“I'm not.”

And she meant that with every fiber of her being. Even if it damned her to hell for eternity, she could no more deny herself the sweetness of being with this man than she could refuse air to breathe.

“No?”

Instead of wasting her breath with words, she smiled and
took his hand, leading him upstairs to her bedroom. The walls were pale pink, the bed skirt and quilt were covered with roses in variegated shades of crimson. An arch of dried flowers was the focal point of a grouping of needlepoint blossoms on the wall above the bed. Everything about the room spoke of femininity, yet she'd never felt like a complete woman in it.

Until now. With this man.

Scott took the hem of her T-shirt and she raised her arms, encouraging him to lift it over her head. Then he undid the button at the waist of her jeans and slid down the zipper. She pushed the material over her legs and stepped out of them. Too late she realized her bra and panties were plain white cotton, not the stuff of seduction. What she wouldn't give for a matched set of red satin. Then it ceased to matter as he looked at her and his gaze grew hot.

“You're so beautiful,” he said, the words hardly more than a breath of air.

“You don't have to tell me that.”

“Would you rather I lie and say you're so homely you'd have to sneak up on a glass of water?”

She laughed. For some reason that reassured her more completely than flowery words and practiced phrases. He was telling her the simple truth the way he saw it. Which meant when he looked at her, he saw beauty.

Her heart filled to overflowing with emotions she couldn't name. Then he reached behind her, unhooked her bra, and she didn't want to think at all. As the material slid away and the cool air touched her breasts, so did his gaze.

“Beautiful,” he said again.

He reached around her to the bed and yanked down the quilt, blanket and sheet. When he pulled his shirt over his head without bothering to unbutton it, her heart beat so furiously she thought it would fly from her chest. He slid his feet from his shoes and then went to work on his pants. Fascinated, she
watched the ripple of muscles across his chest and arms as he unbuckled his belt, then pushed his jeans and briefs down over muscular thighs and calves. His erection sprang free and her breath caught in her throat. Fearing her trembling legs wouldn't hold her, she sat on the bed and then moved to the center, making room for him.

The mattress dipped from his weight as he put one knee on it then slid closer and settled beside her—the first man ever in this bed. In this room. It felt so right that Scott was the one.

When she shivered, he pulled her close and brought the sheet up over them. “Better?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “But only because you're here.”

He grinned as he pressed her even closer, nestling her naked breasts to the wall of his chest. “Shared body heat is an amazing thing.”

“I couldn't agree more.” She liked the rough texture of his chest hair on the tender skin of her breasts. Was there anything that could make a woman feel more feminine than that?

He reached down and slid her panties off. Then he rubbed his large palm over the dip of her waist and down the length of her thigh. In the wake of his touch, heat exploded. Liquid warmth spread through her, settling in her center, readying her body to accept him. And that answered her question. A man's possession could definitely bring out the woman in her.

He took her lips with his own and kissed her thoroughly, with exquisite tenderness. She opened, admitting him inside, savoring the invasion. She traced the roof of his mouth, taking profound female satisfaction when he groaned deep in his throat. His chest rose and fell rapidly.

“Wow,” he said, struggling to catch his breath. “Lady, you pack a wallop.”

“You're no slouch yourself,” she breathed. Then she touched the tip of her tongue to his earlobe.

“Oh, God—” he said.

She felt his erection pressing into her belly and again felt the power of her femininity. It seemed the most important thing in the world to touch him, to know the texture of him, to feel the essence of his maleness in the palm of her hand.

“Thea—” His voice was raspy and strained.

For so long she'd existed in a haze, but Scott had brought her out of the clouds and into the light. She'd felt the weight of too many things out of her control. Now, with him, she felt as if she could take command. When he rolled to his back, it was as if he could read her mind. She knelt beside him, then settled herself over him.

Groaning with satisfaction, he put his big hands on her hips and guided her, showing her the rhythm, urging her faster. Her breathing kept pace and her heart hammered as if she were running the hundred-yard dash. Pressure built inside her until she felt like a volcano about to erupt.

He reached out a hand searching for and finding the nub of her femininity pressed to the shaft of his masculinity. Her engorged bundle of nerve endings was exquisitely sensitive to his touch. He stroked her gently until the pressure released into a thousand points of light and she collapsed against his chest.

When she recovered enough, he urged her hips into motion again and seconds later, he stilled her as he groaned his own release.

It seemed an eternity until she could move, but when she stirred, he nestled her against his side with her cheek on his chest. The musky, life-affirming scent of sex drifted in the air. They were skin to skin and the warmth of him wrapped around her. With the taste of him still on her lips, she savored the rise and fall of his chest, the sound of his breathing. The power of the moment hit her. All her senses told her she wasn't alone. The thought brought tears to her eyes.

Because it felt so good.

And because it was way past time for her to tell him about her baby.

He kissed her forehead. “Thea, I hope you know I didn't come here just for…you know.”

“I know,” she said, her stomach knotting. “You came here to talk. And I agree we need to. Can you stay?”

“The girls are due home soon. I wish I could. But I need to be there when they get back.”

“I understand.”

“I don't want to be a do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do kind of dad.”

“I know. But you've got a few minutes?”

It was time to tell him everything and see where they were going with this crazy whatever-it-was between them. She knew now he had feelings for her. Maybe, just maybe, they were strong enough to bear what she had to say.

He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “Not really. I have to go.” He threw back the sheet and sat up. “I'm taking the girls to brunch tomorrow morning before Gail goes back to school. Would you like to join us?”

What she wanted was to run her hands over his back and memorize every hard angle and muscular contour. But she didn't. “I think it would be best if I didn't go along,” she said.

“The girls wouldn't mind. They like you.”

“I'm glad.”

“In fact, they're the reason I came over tonight. Last weekend they encouraged me not to give up on you.”

“And it took you all week to decide they were right?” she teased.

“I may be slow,” he admitted. “But once I make up my mind, look out.” His expression turned sheepish. “That didn't sound right. I really did come here just to talk.”

“I believe you.” If she hadn't needed him so badly, that's probably all they would have done. “But you won't have
many opportunities from now on to have them all to yourself. I'd love a rain check, though.”

“You got it.”

He slipped out of bed and dressed quickly as she lay on the bed watching him and loving every minute. When he was finished, he leaned over and ran his hand over her breast and to her abdomen, over the life growing there. She sucked in a breath as her chest tightened.

“I'll call you,” he said.

“Okay.”

Then he was gone. She wasn't a coward. Not completely. She should have told him. But he was looking forward to tomorrow with his girls. She wasn't certain if her news would cast a cloud over his day, but why take a chance.

A chance. She clung to the word with all her might. God wouldn't be so cruel. There was always a chance Scott cared enough that he wouldn't give up on her when she told him about her baby.

T
hea set a plate with soda crackers on the coffee table, then put her feet up on her couch and rested against the throw pillows. Morning sickness strikes again, she thought. Except it wasn't morning and it was after the first trimester, so shouldn't it be over? Her stomach rolled right over on that damn pregnancy glow.

She sighed as she patted her belly. “From everything I've read, little one, the hallmark of being a mother is to expect the unexpected. Thanks for the reminder.” She closed her eyes against the nausea and said, “I think.”

Connie had sent her home with specific orders to put her feet up. In fact, they were finished for the day, so Junior's timing was actually pretty good.

When her doorbell rang, she decided someone else's timing wasn't so good. Unless it was Scott. The last time she'd had an unexpected visitor, it was him. And he'd made such tender love to her, the memory of it made her heart ache to think about it.

With very little effort, she could fall for that man.

When the doorbell rang again, she sat up and swung her legs to the side. The thought of seeing him was about the only thing that could get her off this couch.

She peeked through the peephole and recognized Kendra. The last time the teen had dropped in, there was a crisis in the Matthews household. This was becoming a habit, a thought that pleased her very much. Not the crisis part, but the fact that the girl felt she could come to her.

She threw the dead bolt and opened the door. “Hi, there. Is everything all right?”

“Yeah. The best.” Kendra smiled. “Didn't my dad tell you when he was here the other night?”

The other night when her father had been here, they hadn't talked about much. Their mouths had been otherwise occupied. Thea felt the heat rushing to her face and hoped the teen didn't notice.

“He said he was taking you and Gail to brunch. But that was about it. How was orientation?”

“Awesome,” the teen said, grinning from ear to ear. “I met some cool kids. The campus is the best. I can't wait to go.”

“So you're not afraid anymore?”

She shook her head. “And I have you to thank for talking me into giving it a try.”

“No. You're the one who took the steps.” She held out her arm. “Come in.”

“I can't stay long.” Kendra slung her backpack over one shoulder. “I stopped by your office, but Connie said you'd already left for the day. Are you okay?” she asked, looking closer.

“Fine. A little tired. I've been busy the last few weeks.”

The girl looked uneasy. “Then I don't want to bother you.”

Thea sat on the couch and patted the space beside her. “Sit. Tell me what's up. It's no bother.”

“You might change your mind about that when I tell you.”

“Let me be the judge. What can I do for you?”

Kendra took a big breath. “Mother's Day is coming up in a couple weeks.”

“Yeah.”

Thea was well aware. It would be her very first. But given Kendra's history with her mother, she couldn't imagine where she was going with this. Was she going to reach out to the woman who'd abandoned her?

“I want to surprise my dad with a party and I was hoping you'd help me pull it off.”

“On Mother's Day?” she asked, surprised.

The teen twisted her fingers in her lap as an earnest expression crept into the blue eyes so like her father's. “The fact is, he's been both mother and father to me for as long as I can remember. I—I've been a pain in the neck to him lately and it's a way to say I'm sorry.”

Thea reached over and squeezed her hand. “He loves you. No matter what.”

“I know. In spite of everything. And he's always been there for me.” She shrugged. “I guess there's something about going away to college. It feels final even though I know I'll see him a lot.”

“It's a change,” Thea agreed. “Everything will be different.”

“That's for sure. But it feels like the right time to try and thank him for everything. I've been a big job and I want to do this in a big way.”

“On Mother's Day.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Because he won't be expecting it. And I really, really need you to help me.”

Thea smiled. Something about this girl always tugged at her heart. Was it because she was so much like her dad? Or that she seemed to be reaching out for something missing
from her life? Either way, she was a sweetie. And the bottom line was Thea couldn't say no.

“Count me in,” she said.

Kendra leaned over and hugged her. “Thank you.”

“What can I do?”

“Help me plan the food. And we need a theme. I was hoping to have it at my grandparents' house so Dad won't know. And combine it with a Mother's Day celebration for my grandmother.”

“So you're going to let her in on the surprise?”

“No, I want her to be surprised, too. I have a key to the house so you can set up. And I'll figure out a way to get everyone out of there.”

“What about a movie?” Thea suggested. If the teenager couldn't pull that off, it would be déjà vu all over again when they walked in and found her cooking.

“Good idea,” Kendra agreed.

“That would make it an evening event,” she said, tapping her lip. Thea usually spent the morning with her own mother on that day, so there wasn't a conflict. “What kind of food do you want?”

“I'm not sure.”

“Your dad likes Italian—”

“Yeah. Good idea.”

“We could do stuffed shells or manicotti. Antipasto salad, garlic bread. And dessert. For how many people?”

“Just the family. Gail, me, Dad of course. My grandparents and Uncle Mike.”

“A small celebration,” Thea said.

“I can't afford more than that.”

Thea hadn't even thought about charging her. When something didn't feel like business, it made her nervous. But that wasn't Kendra's problem. “Don't worry about the money.”

“But I can't ask you to do this for free.”

“We can work something out.” Thea shrugged. “Actually, you can help me with everything. As I explained to your father, labor is the major expense.”

Kendra raised one hand and put the other over her heart. “I swear I'll be your willing slave and promise to do whatever you tell me without complaint, whining, or eye-rolling.”

Thea laughed as she pointed at her. “I'll hold you to that.”

They talked for several more minutes, exchanging pertinent information. As they did, Thea noticed the sparkle in Kendra's eyes. She was different from the girl Thea had met a few months ago. She seemed happier and more confident. The result of a young girl whose father had given her space here and advice there. It was all about balance and Scott had pulled it off. Twice, when you counted Kendra's older sister. Thea put the date in her book and Kendra wrote down her grandparents' address.

The teen nodded eagerly. “You'll love Grammy and Poppy.”

“I have no doubt.” Children were a reflection of their parents, Thea realized. And Scott's mom and dad had raised a fine man.

After seeing Kendra out, she leaned against her door and sighed. He was a fine father, too. The kind any kid would be lucky to have.

She looked down and wondered about her own baby. He'd never know his father. Before undertaking the IVF, she'd rationalized that you couldn't miss what you'd never had. After meeting Scott and his girls, she wasn't so sure the rationale held up. Kendra missed her mother. Would her child miss his father? Would he turn out all right without one?

Scott had so much to offer—in every way. And he seemed to care. Chance, she reminded herself. There was always a chance for them.

If he could accept her baby.

Maybe Connie was right. Maybe if he fell in love and a child was part of the package, he would be happy about it, in spite of his past.

 

Thea checked over the Mother's Day fare she'd set up in Scott's parent's home one last time to reassure herself it was perfect. So far, their covert operation had come off without a hitch. The night before, Kendra had helped her assemble the food and decorations, deciding a big banner and balloons were inexpensive and easy. When Thea had arrived, the house was empty so she assumed the movie idea had worked like a charm. Thea had decorated and set out the food, plates and utensils.

Now that everything was ready, she had a few moments to catch her breath and look around. The elder Matthews lived in a sprawling ranch-style house not far from Scott's in a gated community. The living and dining rooms were situated on either side of the entryway that led to the huge kitchen with an island in the center. Thea browsed through the adjacent family room with its used brick fireplace and matching raised hearth that took up almost a whole wall.

Family pictures were everywhere, including some of Scott and his brother. She studied a photo collage on the wall and recognized Scott's formative years. There was one of him as a little boy playing T-ball, a grade school play, junior high, high school football, then him with an infant in his arms. It hit her that the pace of his formative years had suddenly increased at the speed of light. There was no picture parade of girlfriends like his brother had. He'd gone straight from high school football to fatherhood.

Before the knot in her stomach had a chance to tighten, she heard a car in the drive. Peeking out of the living room window, she saw doors on two vehicles open and the Matthews clan spilled out. Her gaze was drawn to Scott like
a magnet to true north and her heart skipped in a way that was becoming familiar at the first sight of him.

His brother, Mike, bore a striking family resemblance. He was as tall as Scott, with the same dark hair and hunk quotient. But the family photos hadn't revealed a Mrs. Mike and she wondered about that. Kendra and Gail were both there with an older couple who must be their grandparents. Laughing and talking, the whole Matthews family walked up the brick sidewalk. Thea hurried into the kitchen. When everyone walked in, they stopped and stared—first at her, then at the banner.

Thea looked at Kendra and grinned. Together they said, “Surprise!”

Scott read the words on the hand-lettered sign—Happy Mother's Day, Grandma. Happy Mother's Day, Dad. With a pleased, yet puzzled expression on his face, he looked at his daughter. “What's all this?”

Kendra stood by the kitchen island and twisted her fingers together. “You've been both mother and father to Gail and me, and Father's Day didn't seem like enough. I just wanted to do something special to say thanks.”

The older woman hugged her granddaughter, then sniffled and wiped away a tear. “Now I know why you were so insistent about getting us out of the house to that dreadful movie. That business about starting new family traditions. And this is why you threw that fit about not wanting to go out to dinner afterward. All that drama about starving to death while waiting to get a table.” She shook her head as she smiled fondly at the teen.

Kendra shrugged. “I didn't know what else to do when you suggested that new restaurant by the theaters. I worked my fingers to the bone on this.”

“You certainly were a big help,” Thea agreed wryly.

“Thanks.” Kendra grinned at her. “Are you surprised?” she asked, looking from her father to her grandmother.

“Absolutely,” they both said.

“So was I,” said the older man, who was obviously Scott's father. Tall, silver-haired, distinguished, he was the image of what his son would look like as he aged.

And Thea realized how very much she would like to know Scott for a long time and watch him grow distinguished. But the thought scared her because she didn't trust the future.

Before she could process that information further, Scott met her gaze and smiled. “Kendra, this is obviously your gig. Maybe you should introduce everyone to Thea.”

The teen nodded and cleared her throat. “Family, this is Thea Bell, from For Whom the Bell Toils catering. Thea, this is my family.”

“Smart aleck,” Scott said, shaking his head. He put his arms around his mother and father. “These are my parents—Betty and Tom.”

The older woman was a short, slim brunette. Her brown eyes still sparkled with a suspicious brightness. “It's nice to meet you, dear.”

“The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Matthews, Mr. Matthews.”

“It's Betty and Tom,” the older man said. He indicated the man beside him. “This is our youngest son, Mike.”

Scott's brother studied her openly. “I've heard a lot about you. It's nice to finally meet the woman giving my brother fits,” he said, smiling.

She was dealing with the fact that he was every bit as good-looking as his older brother and it took several moments before his words sank in. “Fits?”

Scott looked uncomfortable. “Mike has a big mouth.”

Betty glanced from one son to the other, her gaze finally settling on the youngest. “Michael, what are you talking about?”

“Nothing, Mom. Call it payback for years of sibling oppression.”

“I never picked on you,” Scott said with over-the-top, self-righteous indignation.

“Okay.” Mike's grin was full of the devil. “And because you're lying, I will revert to junior high mentality for just a moment. Scott likes Thea.”

“I can see why,” Tom said, studying her. “And we all know the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Why do you think I married your mother?”

But the levity did nothing to disarm the glare Scott turned on his brother. “You just violated some serious sibling code. And, for the record, I never picked on you.”

“You still pick on him, Dad,” Gail said. “Hi, Thea.”

She was glad to have the focus off her and Scott. But it was clear he'd talked to his brother about her. Was that good or bad?

“Hi, kiddo,” Thea said. “How's UCLA?”