Sisters in Bloom (Love in Bloom: Snow Sisters #2), Contemporary Romance (4 page)

Blake’s tongue was on her neck, her earlobe, and then the sensitive little dip beneath her ear. Danica tried to concentrate, but she was lost in the sensations of his touch.

With one strong arm around her waist, he flipped them both over, taking her legs and hoisting them up beneath his arms. He thrust deeper and deeper into her, touching her in places that sent tiny shocks through her body. She reached for him, but her arms wouldn’t listen; they fell back to the bed. Then her legs were back on the bed, and Blake lowered himself to her, pumping slower, kissing her, probing her mouth with his tongue.

“God, I love you,” he said, resting his cheek on hers. “I love you so much.”

Danica tried to respond, but he was still moving, faster now, within her, and she was right on the verge of another climax. Blake wrapped his hands under her back, then grabbed her shoulders and held her still against each strong thrust. She felt him swelling inside of her and wrapped her legs around his waist, wanting every bit of him to be hers. Just as she closed her eyes against another fantastic orgasm, he cried out her name and arched his back, thrusting harder, faster, then slower, as he panted through his own climax, and finally came to rest upon her.

Their bodies were slick with sweat, the bedroom silent, save for their satiated breathing.

“Welcome home, baby,” Blake whispered.  

Danica couldn’t think of anywhere else she’d rather be.

The next day, Kaylie danced in her shorts and maternity top, swinging her hips to the music that cascaded through their spacious living room, excited about a potential girls’ night out. Kaylie’s insecurities about her body always fell by the wayside when music was involved. It’s like she was transformed into another world altogether. She’d been so worried about her failing career, and with her mind blocked by thoughts of strollers and car seats, as it should be, she hoped her friends could help her find direction. After all, they had been instrumental in helping her come to the conclusion that following her heart and building a career in the music field was the right thing to do. In her senior year of college, they’d spent endless nights tossing around what seemed like hundreds of behind-the-desk, practical careers. Careers that wouldn’t leave her feeling like a second fiddle to Danica the Therapist. But in the end, neither her friends, nor Kaylie, could see her doing anything besides singing, and it had been a good decision. She had a fulfilling, fun lifestyle—even if she felt as if her career was yet another thing that placed her beneath Danica on the invisible intelligence scale.

Kaylie went out to their backyard and picked fresh flowers from the edge of the woods—a nice little bonus of owning twenty acres—and replenished the vase on the dining room table. Chaz’s three-bedroom chalet was spacious and open, and when Kaylie had moved in, it was very much a man’s house. The oversized white sofa had no throw pillows, the mantel was bare, and she wasn’t sure Chaz even knew what curtains were. Though, with his view of the mountains—and no neighbors for miles around save for the vacant house a mile away—she didn’t blame him for leaving the windows untended. It was the morning sun that she didn’t care for, especially now that she had no reason to wake up as early as the sun rose.

She remembered how, when she was a little girl, her mother used to wake her up at what seemed like the crack of dawn on the weekends:
Rise and shine! Let’s chase the beauty into the day and not be left behind.
It felt so weird to see her mother again—especially with her red hair and her new sense of fashion.
And cell phone. And calls and texts from that man.
She really wanted to be happy for her mother’s new outlook, but when she’d seen her, she’d felt like that recent college grad again and the hurt had tumbled in.
Will it ever go away?

Her cell phone vibrated and she picked it up. “Hello?” Silence. “Hello?” She heard the dead hum of the cell phone line.
Damn it
. The service on the mountain was sporadic, and it nearly drove her crazy. She stomped to their newly installed landline, realizing briefly that she hadn’t even written down the number after Chaz had had it installed. She had to remember to write it down, she thought, as she dialed Camille’s number.

“Hola, chica,” Kaylie said.

“Kaylie? I didn’t recognize the number.”

Kaylie and her entourage of friends had grown up together. Camille had always been the leader of sorts, while Kaylie had been the party girl. She imagined Camille now, in her big, beautiful new house, still a newlywed, just a few months into her married life. She couldn’t wait to take that step. They’d decided to postpone getting married until after the baby was born. Kaylie didn’t want to be pregnant in her wedding photos. She touched her belly and said, “It’s the new phone we installed in Chaz’s office. Anyway, has Danica called you yet?”

“Honey, Danica called me the minute you guys left Felby’s. Sounds like an intervention to me.”

Figures
.  “Intervention?”
What the hell did Danica tell you?
  “And?”

“And we’re all set to go to Bar None tonight, which, I might add, I cannot believe you want to do in your current pregger state.”

“Oh, shut up. Tonight? She wants to do it tonight?”

“What’s wrong? Hamstrung by that drop-dead gorgeous fiancé of yours? Too tired? If you can’t make it—”

“Who are you kidding? I’m going, and we’re gonna have a blast.” Kaylie mentally ticked off her outfits and realized that nothing she owned would be suitable for Bar None. She pictured Camille looking over her perfectly manicured nails, not a hair out of place, and showing up that evening in a drop-dead, naval-baring, sexy sheath. “I need to go shopping.” 

Kaylie sped drove through town toward the Village, feeling more like her old self. The prospect of hanging out with the girls had taken her mind off her lack of work and expanding waistline.

At the stoplight, her cell phone vibrated. She picked it up and saw a text from her mother.
So great to see you. Miss you. Sorry I never texted you before this.
Kaylie tossed the phone on the passenger seat when the light turned green. She was glad that her mother was reaching out, but she was equally as irritated by her internal conflict. She thought of her mother kissing someone other than her father, and even though she still harbored way too much anger to think of her mother and father as any sort of a couple, the thought still turned her stomach. It was clear to Kaylie that she couldn’t trust her emotions around her newly dating mother.

She wished she could talk to someone about her pregnancy and the hormones that took her through the wretched highs and disastrous lows that she’d been trying to mask for the last few months; but none of her friends had been pregnant. They wouldn’t understand, and Danica was crazy in love and whizzing through a new career and relationship without so much as slowing down.
What is wrong with me?
For the first time in several years, she wondered if this was what it felt like to need your mother, and the thought that followed hurt like hell.
Will I ever be able to mend that bridge?

Ten minutes later, Kaylie parked her car in the Village parking lot and gave herself a quick once-over in the rearview mirror.
What a mess
. She freshened her makeup and ran a comb through her hair, cursing at how it had become thicker since she’d been pregnant. She now sported wayward, too-thick strands poking out like a halo from her head.

The afternoon sun warmed Kaylie’s face as she window-shopped her way through the Village. She wandered into Young at Heart, one of the few clothing stores that carried trendy outfits that fit her prepregnancy size-five body perfectly. Some stores carried brands that were too roomy in the hips, or too loose in the thighs, but Young at Heart always seemed to fit. The Fray was playing on the speakers, and two teenage girls stood behind the counter laughing and moving to the music. Kaylie watched them, feeling silly for being jealous of their exposed, tanned, flat-as-a-board stomachs.

She rifled through the rack and pulled out tops that she thought might stretch over her mushrooming belly. The tank top she wore with her maternity jeans swung out at the bottom like a tent. She’d love to wear something more formfitting. She picked an armful of extra-large blouses, T-shirts, and tank tops and headed for the fitting room. She tugged at the door. Locked. The last thing Kaylie wanted to do was ask those happy girls for anything. Luckily, she didn’t have to.

The dressing room door beside her opened, and a very tall, slim brunette walked out. “Here,” she said, revealing her perfect white teeth and adorable dimples.

“Thanks.” Kaylie hurried inside feeling more like her mother than herself—too matronly to be in the store at all. Hell, not even like her mother anymore. Her mother looked fresh and fashionable in her cap-sleeved blouse and white slacks. She flopped down on the bench inside the dressing room, the pile of shirts in her lap.

Kaylie took off her shirt and picked through the tanks, choosing a pretty pale yellow one with green trim. She pulled it over her head.
Yeah, baby, this will definitely fit
. Even as she tried to convince herself, she knew it was impossible. She tugged it down over her breasts and couldn’t believe it stopped mid-boob. “Really?” she said to the empty room. She tugged and yanked at the bottom of the shirt. It wouldn’t budge. Kaylie faced the mirror; her bare belly stuck out like a giant basketball, complete with a faded brown line down the center. Her belly button resembled a misshapen scar instead of the cute little inny that she’d always been so proud of. She missed her piercing, which she’d taken out begrudgingly at sixteen weeks, per her doctor’s suggestion. She surveyed her changing body, and she sank back down to the bench, feeling worse than she had when she’d left home.

There was a knock at the dressing room door. “You okay in there? Need another size?”

Kaylie yanked the tank top awkwardly back over her head. “Not unless you carry whale-sized shirts.” She pulled on her maternity top with a heavy sigh and opened the door.

One of the girls from the counter dropped her eyes to her belly. “Oh.”

“Yeah, I thought I could fit in these.” She pointed at the pile of shirts she’d left on the bench.

“I can take care of those.” The girl flipped her dark hair over her shoulder and then touched Kaylie’s arm. “Hey, what about going to the Dead Zone? You know that cool shop at the end of the street? They have those great hippie shirts that are all flowy and light. They’d probably fit, and with the right pair of jeans.” She looked at Kaylie’s jeans. “Like those, that’d be really cute.”

Kaylie was swept into the girl’s enthusiasm. “You think so?” She smoothed her shirt, feeling a little less like Shamu.

“Definitely.” The girl beamed. She called to the girl behind the counter. “Hey, Shay, wouldn’t she look so cute in those Dead Zone shirts?”

Shay smacked her gum like a cow. Silver earrings lined the edge of both ears, and several long silver and leather necklaces hung around her neck. “Totally!” she said between gum smacks.

“Yeah? Thanks.” Kaylie left the store with a bounce in her step.

Two hours later Kaylie began her drive out of town and toward their chalet, her backseat filled with packages from the Dead Zone, her new favorite store. Her cell phone rang and she pulled to the side of the road. Finding out she was pregnant had switched some crazy maternal instinct in her brain. She no longer texted and drove, and she had stopped answering the phone while behind the wheel, too. Lee Brice sang quietly from the speakers.

She looked at the number on her cell screen.
Reno
. She answered with an air of confidence. She had sung at the Reno nightclub for the past three years. It was one of her favorite venues, and the patrons loved her more with each performance, staying after the show to ask for her autograph and making her feel like a real celebrity—even though Kaylie knew she was anything but. It was in the bag. “Lisa, hi, how are you?”

“Hi, Kaylie.”

Kaylie sensed a hesitation and tried to brush it off. “I didn’t expect to hear from you until next week.”

“I know, Kaylie, listen. I have some bad news.”

Kaylie’s heart sank as she listened to Lisa hem and haw her way through telling her she didn’t get the gig. The noise of the engine fell away. She punched the radio button with her index finger, filling the car with silence, save for Lisa’s stumbling voice coming through her cell, saying something about new mothers being unreliable.
Unforeseen circumstances arise when babies are involved. Besides, do you really think you’ll want to leave your baby overnight?

She was too stunned to formulate a rebuttal. “Okay. Thanks for letting me know.” Kaylie pressed End and stared out the window, conflicted by wanting to be home with her baby and determined not to repeat her own mother’s mistake of staying at home and losing hold of all the things that had made her whole before having kids.
Maybe this is good
, she thought,
forcing my hand to stay home for a while. Who am I kidding? There are no happily ever afters. No way am I gonna end up like Mom, left with nothing more than a broken heart. I’ve worked too hard not to continue standing on my own two feet. Besides, without a career, there would be one more nail on my not-as-smart-or-as-capable-as-Danica coffin
. Something had to change, and Kaylie was dead set on figuring out just what that was.

Kaylie left her bags in the car and flung herself onto the couch.

“Something wrong?” Chaz asked as he came into the living room. He moved the colorful throw pillows aside and sat down beside Kaylie on the deep cushioned sectional, setting a glass of ice water with sliced lemon on the coffee table.

She stared at the mantel, littered with framed photos they’d accumulated over the last few months. Their smiles beamed at her like beacons through the shadowy darkness of her disappointment. “I didn’t get the Reno gig that I’ve done for the last three years.” She crossed her arms, feeling like a pouty child and cringing inside but unable to turn it around. Lisa had taken the wind right out of her. “That’s my given, you know? The one I could always count on. I figured that since it was eight weeks after the baby’s supposed to be born, they’d hire me. They loved me.” She shook her head. “I just don’t get it.”

“Why do you think they didn’t give it to you?”

Kaylie loved everything about Chaz, from his dimpled chin and rumpled blond hair to the way his voice felt like a caress. But at that very moment, with her hormones wreaking havoc and the realization of her sinking career as fresh as a morning breeze, all she could think of to say was,
duh
, and she’d never let such a rude comment slip from her lips to the man she adored. Instead, she looked down at her belly and pressed her lips tightly together.

“I’m sorry,” Chaz said, and reached around her, pulling her closer to him. “They’ve probably hired new mothers before who’d canceled at the last minute and left them in a bind or something.”

She leaned against him and closed her eyes. The scent of his Tommy Hilfiger cologne reeled Kaylie in, softening her steely reserve. “I get it,” she said. “But every job I got took so much hard work. I had to prove myself every single time, and I had this one. Three years, I’ve done their gig, and I’ve never let them down. Doesn’t loyalty count for anything?” She nervously twisted her hair around her finger. “I’ve worked so hard since my junior year of college to find my way and make a name for myself. And I did, too. I haven’t had this much trouble lining up jobs in forever. I always thought I’d end up with a record contract at some point—that all my hard work would pay off. And now, between this one and last week’s cancellation, it’s like I’m just watching it all fade away.”

“There are so many other things you can do,” he said.

She lifted her eyebrows. “Like what?” She looked down at her belly and laughed. “Make babies?”

“Well, that’s always fun,” he said, as he put his lips on hers and kissed her.

“Yeah, but we’ve talked about this. I want my career. You know that.”

He planted light kisses along her jawbone. “You could be the band manager.”

“No way. What am I, a scut monkey?”
Why am I being so bitchy? It’s not his fault.

Her bitchiness didn’t deter him. He pushed her hair from her face and said, with his hand on her cheek, “You could write instead of singing.”

Kaylie was finding it hard to concentrate as he slid his hand from her cheek to the back of her neck, kissing the center of her collarbone and moving up to the underside of her chin. Her head fell back and she whispered, “I’m not a writer.”

He pulled her onto his lap and brushed her straight blond hair from her shoulders. “Songs. You can write them if you can’t sing them.” He laid her back on the sofa and sank down beside her, tracing the crest of her cleavage with his finger. “You don’t even have to work if you don’t want to.”

“What?” Kaylie pushed at his chest. What did he think she was going to do? Stay at home, barefoot and pregnant?

“We don’t need the money, and you work late hours, weekends. I’m just saying.”

Kaylie’s pulse sped up. No way was she giving up her career. It might not seem like she had much of one left, but she wasn’t going to just walk away from it. She wouldn’t be her mother. They’d talked about this. “I love singing. I love working.” She swung her legs over the end of the couch and pushed herself to her feet. “I’m not just a baby maker.”

“I never said—”

“No, but you were thinking it. I could hear it in your voice.” Kaylie paced. Anger surged through her, and she knew it was misdirected. Chaz was in her line of fire, and she was powerless to quell her emotions. Goddamn hormones. Tears burned at the corners of her eyes.
Why does everything have to change?

“I didn’t mean that.”

The confusion on Chaz’s face portrayed exactly what Kaylie knew he must be feeling—tangled in a web of estrogen and Kaylie’s faltering career, which he couldn’t possibly understand.

“Look,” he said, with a frustrated sigh, “I just thought that if you couldn’t sing, you could write songs, or take time off, or whatever, until you’re ready to go back.”

His blue eyes pleaded for understanding, but Kaylie’s anger was galloping full-speed ahead. She couldn’t rein it in. “I was never ready
not
to work,” she spat.

“What? Did you expect that bars would hire you at eight months pregnant? Or they wouldn’t have a backup plan?” His voice rose, and even though Kaylie didn’t blame him, it still fed her need to defend herself.

“It’s been months since I’ve worked, and no, I didn’t expect they’d hire me at eight months pregnant, but I didn’t expect to lose my career
after
the baby was born, either
.” Even if I’m not sure I want it
. “I thought I’d bounce right back, that all the places I’d worked would hire me without giving it a second thought.”

Chaz ran his hand through his hair. “Okay, I get it,” he conceded. “It stinks. It’s not fair, but, Kaylie, you have a chance to take some time off for yourself, and soon, for our—”

Kaylie held up her hand. “Believe me, I know what’s coming. Soon I’ll have no life.”
Jesus Christ, shut the hell up. What neurotic woman has taken over my vocal cords?

“But you’ll have the baby,” he pleaded.

“Yes, and it will all be worth it. But now, at this very second” —she sank onto the couch as a tear tumbled down her cheek— “it doesn’t feel like it’s worth it. It feels a little like Kaylie is disappearing and being replaced with a mindless baby factory, and afterward, I’ll be a diaper-changing, exhausted blob, while you’ll be just as gorgeous and intellectually fulfilled as always.”
Just like my parents
.

Chaz shook his head. He had so much empathy in his eyes, Kaylie could feel it wrapping itself around her body like a blanket, but her hormones had won. They’d taken full control of her ability to speak, and her tear ducts were currently emptying themselves as if her cheeks were about to shrivel up and die of dehydration and they were the only water source around. “Don’t look at me like that. Do you think I
want
to feel this way?” she snapped, and stomped into the bedroom.