The Baby Invasion (Destiny Bay-Baby Dreams) (10 page)

“What?” She could tell something was going on in him but she had no idea what it could be.

He shrugged. He was probably unaware of how attractive he looked in the shadows of the lamp.
 

“I’m going to say what I’m thinking, Cathy. You might as well know the truth.”

She sat very still, not sure she was going to like this. “What is it?”

His sigh was heartrending. “I want to grab you and kiss you and you don’t want me to, do you?”

Her eyes widened. “Well, at least you got that right,” she responded automatically, then immediately regretted it. She knew he was remembering how she’d pulled away from his touch a few moments before. There was no way she could explain to him that her reaction had nothing to do with him or his attractiveness. To try would be to end up looking like a fool.

“I have to wonder why a nice, attractive, sexy woman like you seems to be so afraid of—I don’t know.
 
Human touch.
 
Human contact.”

Here was her chance. What could she say that wouldn’t come across like a direct invitation? She tried the subtle approach. “I... I’m not afraid of human contact.”
       

“Oh yeah?” He reached out and since she wasn’t expecting it, she jumped away again. “You see what I mean?”

This was going from bad to worse. Suddenly she knew there was nothing she wanted more right now than for him to kiss her. But how to tell him so?
 

“You startled me. That’s all.”

“Right.”

“Really. I...”
 

Well, what on earth could she say? “
Kiss me quick, honey, and I’ll prove it to you”?
Hardly. She fell silent and waited.

Scott was looking moody but resigned.
 

“It’s all right,” he said at last, staring into the cold, dark fireplace. “You’re probably right. We’re not suited to being together, are we?”

He sighed and shook his head.
 

“I mean, I’m not a baby person, you’re crawling with babies. I’m committed to the single life-style, you’re committed to making families. I love split pea soup, you hate it.”
 

He turned toward her with a lopsided grin.
 

“Maybe we should concentrate on being friends. Okay?”

He wasn’t going to kiss her. She was shocked at how sharply the disappointment cut. She hadn’t realized how much the attraction she felt for him had been growing. She wanted to stop him, pull him away from this friendship business, grab hold of him while there was still time. But how could she do that without seeming too forward?

There must be a way. Other women did it. She knew all about that. She read all the magazines. The modern woman was in charge of her own destiny. She didn’t settle for anything less than the best, and when the best came her way, she reached out and took it.
 

Wow. It always sounded great in those articles. But here and now, with reality staring her in the face and Scott sitting so close beside her, it seemed next to impossible.
 

Maybe it was just her. She didn’t know how to be a modern woman.

“Friends?” she asked, her voice quavering. “Of course. Just friends.” She straightened her shoulders and stiffened her pride. The last thing she wanted to do was let him know how uncertain she was.
 

“Of course,” she said again more robustly. “What else would we possibly be?”

He was gazing at her, studying her face, and there was something—was it humor?—glittering in his eyes.

“Friends,” he repeated. “Yes, I think we could do that. We’ll be friends.”

Yes, that definitely was humor. What was he up to? “No funny business?” she asked, trying hard to keep regret out of her voice.

“Oh, hardly any.” The smile was growing in his eyes. “But just to be safe, why don’t we test it?”

She blinked at him. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “Let’s try a kiss and see what happens.”

“Scott!”

He was moving closer all the time. “Let it be a test of fire. We kiss and see if we can get away with no shivers, no bells. Then we’ll know we’re going to be just fine.”

He was very close and she found she was suddenly very happy. “You’re crazy,” she murmured, laughing softly.

“Maybe so.” He’d moved so close by now, his shoulder was right against hers. “But you know what they say. You should always humor crazy people. It keeps them calm.” His arm slid around her, pulling her toward him, curling her near.

He was going to kiss her. It was going to happen. Cathy sat very still, holding her breath.
 

A part of her, deep inside, was struggling, shouting out a warning. But she ignored it for now. No man had touched her since Joey had walked out. She’d told herself she didn’t care, that she would let no man touch her ever again. Over the months, it had become easier and easier. She’d thought she’d never be tempted again.
 

But she’d forgotten what a man could be like. Scott’s hand touched her cheek and she stared into his eyes, marveling at how good he looked, and how much she wanted him to kiss her. Something warm and intoxicating was welling inside her.
 

Was she a fool to unleash these emotions once again? Probably. But maybe it would be worth it. Just maybe.

As his hands framed her face and his mouth hovered so close to hers, she closed her eyes and waited, breathing in his breath, floating in the sense of him, hungry for just a scrap of the human contact that would let her know she was still a woman, still attractive to a man. Still alive underneath it all.

His lips barely touched hers. His hands were incredibly gentle, tracing her hairline, positioning her face so that he could make quick, stroking kisses on her lips, her eyes, the hollow at her temple. Sighing, she let herself drift. It was lovely, like a boat ride on a spring day with blossoms falling from the trees. She felt beautiful, honored, appreciated. Joey had never treated her so gently, so lovingly, especially after the children had come.

Still, she didn’t feel right. Maybe Scott’s embrace was too seductive. Maybe she was scared. Maybe she just wasn’t ready. She didn’t know herself what it was. But she drew back, gently holding Scott off. And to her relief, he didn’t push it.

He sank back against the couch and looked at her, his fingers still tangled in her thick, abundant hair. He didn’t want to let go. But the look in her eyes told him he would have to, so he did, slowly and reluctantly.

She was so gorgeous and she tasted so good. Everything in him ached for her. He avoided her gaze, afraid she’d read his eyes and know how much he wanted her. He didn’t want to frighten her. But Lord, she was so perfect, so right for him. If only...

No, the kids were a given; they were part of her. There was no use wishing them away. It would be best to make light of the entire situation and go home. Maybe he would be able to think of something in the morning.

He turned and gave her a crooked smile. “Well, that does it. I don’t think we can be just friends.”

She gulped and tried to smile back. “We... we can still try to be.”

He took her hand in his and played with the fingers.
 

“Why?” he said softly. “Right now, lovers sounds so much better.”

He met her gaze and swore silently at himself. He should have kept his mouth shut. He could see the wariness in her face. He had to do something quickly to restore her confidence in him.
 

“But I guess friends will have to do for now.” He turned his hand in hers so that they were in the position for a handshake. “Friends it will be. Deal?”

Her smile was grateful. “Deal,” she agreed.

He rose from the couch and started for the door. “You get some sleep,” he told her as he went. “I’ll be back for that breakfast strategy session. And we’ll see where we go from there. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Goodnight.”

He left, closing the door. He looked back and saw her through the window. He shook his head, perplexed. He felt so damn tender when he was with her, so protective. He could understand feeling that way about the children, but why would he feel that way toward her? It didn’t make any sense. He trudged home, mulling it over.

Cathy sat very still and looked about the room as though it were all new to her. And in a way, it was. She’d just been kissed. Putting her fingers to her lips, she felt a surge of excitement.
 

She was acting just like a teenager who’d been kissed for the very first time. Her face felt flushed. Her pulse was beating just a bit faster than normal. Had she ever reacted like this before? It had been so long, she couldn’t really remember.

A kiss. What was it, after all? Just pairs of lips colliding. A gesture of affection. A question. An answer.

But what had the question been exactly? And had she found the right answer? She shivered and found herself smiling. It was all right as long as she could still smile about it, wasn’t it?

Rising from the couch, she did a little dance across the living room floor, humming an old show tune. Just for this moment she was going to allow herself to be happy. Scott was handsome and fun and a genuinely nice person. She had a right to like him.

She might even have a right to go ahead and fall in love if she wanted to.

“No, no, no!” she cried aloud. “Stop thinking crazy thoughts. There’s no time for that, no need for it.” Taking care of babies was her foremost goal, and loving Scott—or anyone-- would only get in the way.

“So I’m not going to fall in love with you,” she warned, glancing toward his house.
 

“But I just might kiss you again.”
 

So there.

She began to tidy things in preparation for retiring for the night. Or at least an attempt at it. She knew from experience that the triplets were probably close to waking for a midnight snack, as was their habit. Once she got them back to sleep, she would enjoy a good six hours of that herself. That is, if Beanie would let her.

On impulse, she dropped the things she’d been collecting and ran softly up the stairs to look in on the children. The triplets were sleeping like angels. Beth was lying very still, her thin arms outside the covers, her hands together as though in prayer. Barnaby was snoring lightly, his body tense even in sleep, as though he were fighting the battle of dreams and needed all his strength. And then she looked into Beanie’s crib.

Two round grey eyes stared back at her. “Aga doo,” he murmured.

“Oh, Beanie.” She sank into the chair beside him and began to stroke his back. “Why can’t you sleep, my sweetheart?”

He gave her a sleepy smile and his eyes drifted shut again.

“My precious darling,” she whispered, bending down to kiss the top of his head, smelling his wonderful baby scent. A sudden wave of fierce possessiveness swept over her as she looked down at him.
 

These children were the most important things in her life. There was no way she was going to risk hurting them by falling for that indefinable fraud called “love.” No way.

She went up to check on them all, fed April’s babies, and got out her own night clothes and prepared for sleep.
 
It was late.
 
She knew Scott was either partying with his cousins or home in bed.
 
She was going to be sleeping soon herself.
 
She yawned.
 
And then she heard the noise that guaranteed sleep wasn’t coming any time soon.
 

Someone was trying to get into the house.
 

Scott walked into
Mickey’s on the Bay
like a man coming home for Thanksgiving.
 
He knew he was going to be bombarded by relatives.
 
It was just what happened at
Mickey’s-
-and that was exactly why he usually avoided it.
 

But no one seemed to notice him at first, and he slipped onto a stool at the counter and surveyed the scene in the large mirror along the back wall.
 

A young woman he’d never seen before came up to take his order.
 
She did a double take, then frowned.

“You’re another one of them, aren’t you?” she said with a cynical twist to her pretty mouth.
 
She sighed and shook her head.
 
“Carrington men are thick as thieves around here.
 
Every day there’s a new one of you.”

Scott couldn’t help but grin at her.
 
She was wearing the pale green uniform of the café with a nametag that said, “Amity”.
 
Her thick dark hair was tied into braids that hung down over her shoulders.
 
She had a sweet but vaguely dream-like quality to her pretty face, as though she heard voices other people didn’t.
 
All in all, she was strikingly attractive.
 

And maybe, from what he could see, pregnant.

“Funny you should notice,” he told her as he pointed to a nice slice of cherry pie and held his cup out for coffee.
 
“Most people don’t catch the resemblance.
 
I come from a sort of black sheep wing of the family.
 
We seem to have a different look.”

She shrugged as she served him.
 
“I’ve made a special study of Carrington male faces,” she told him, looking wise.
 
“I saw it right away.”

He stared at her, not sure what in the world she meant by that, but she was walking away before he could think how to frame a question to her.
 

“Strange girl,” he muttered to himself.
 

But the cherry pie looked great and he actually got to enjoy three bites before Mickey, the red-headed owner of the café, recently married to a Carrington herself, noticed him and called out a greeting.
 

After that, he was swamped.
 
The place was full of his cousins, and since he didn’t come in more than once a year, just about every one of them had to stop by for a comment.
 
That made him wonder why he didn’t join in more often.
 
It felt good to be welcomed so warmly.