"Oh, believe it. Although, calling them 'bumps' is kinder than I deserve." Ross grimaced, putting his arm around Natalie's shoulders. "Thank God my wife is a forgiving woman."
She snuggled against him. "You were worth forgiving. Besides, what choice did I have? My only other option was being without you."
The words reverberated through Dani. Even without turning her head, she could feel Sean's gaze on her, his silent entreaty. He wanted her to forgive him. And, frankly, it was tempting. Sean was the most exhilarating man she'd ever known.
But what was the saying? Fool me once, shame on you... Did she want to risk setting herself up to be made a fool of again? In Dani's opinion, the key part of Natalie's story wasn't that she'd forgiven her husband. It was her certainty that he'd been worth it.
Dani was nowhere near the neighborhood of certainty. That neighborhood hadn't even been zoned for development yet. Was Sean worth second-guessing herself, going back on what she felt was a wise decision? There was one absolute way to know for sure, but she didn't think she could face the consequences of being wrong.
* * *
AFTER WORK FRIDAY, Dani attended an orientation meeting for all the volunteers in the softball league, then grabbed a late dinner with a few of the other coaches. It was almost ten when she got home, and it had been a fairly eventful week. She took a quick shower, planning to curl up with a good book afterward. She deserved some downtime.
But once she'd shimmied into a pair of comfortable pajamas and scanned both her e-reader and bedroom shelf for choices, she realized she felt too manic to concentrate. Restless and edgy. That would be the sexual frustration.
She rejected the thought as soon as it crossed her mind. Frustrated, because of a few paltry moments alone with Sean today? Ha! She'd been celibate for months and had survived just fine. She was not going to become a needy hostage to her hormones. For crying out loud, it had only been a week since she'd had sex.
Really, really great sex.
A knock sounded at her front door. Dani was so tightly strung that she jumped. Who the hell was showing up unannounced at this hour of the night? Sean.
The unbidden thought made her go liquid inside. There'd been that moment today when he'd considered going for broke and kissing her-she'd seen it in his eyes, heard it in the change of his breathing. If he was rash enough to do it, did she trust herself not to kiss him back? No.
She was honest enough to admit to herself that, if she opened the door and let him in, they were going to make love. She just didn't know if that's what she wanted.
Another knock interrupted her mental debate. Down, girl. It's probably not even him. One of her neighbors had given Dani a spare key for the times she'd locked herself out of her apartment, which was four and counting. Dani went into her living room warily, as if Sean's magnetism might be too much for her to resist even through metal-reinforced wood.
"Who is it?" she called, not yet close enough to look through the peep-hole.
"It's me." Muffled sniffling came from the other side. "Meg."
Dani unfastened the chain and turned the deadbolt. "You're the last person I expected to see." She knew from their chats earlier this week that Meg and Nolan had special plans tonight. It was their six-month anniversary.
"Sorry I didn't call first," Meg said. "I left the house in such a hurry I forgot that my phone was on the charger instead of in my purse."
"You know you're always welcome, any time day or night. No advance notice require." She ushered her inside, getting a clearer look at her friend. Something was obviously wrong.
Meg wore a slinky green dress and killer gold sandals. At some point, she'd also been wearing suitably dramatic evening makeup. But mascara that had no doubt started the evening on her lashes now formed rivulets over blotchy red cheeks. Meg sniffed, and Dani turned to find her a box of tissues.
"Here."
Meg took the box but hardly seemed to register what it was for. She clutched it against her, staggering numbly toward the sofa, offering no clue what was wrong.
Dani took a stab in the dark. "Don't tell me he forgot your anniversary."
"No, he asked me to marry him."
And that warranted sobbing? Dani blinked, trying to connect the dots between a proposal and her friend's current condition. "Are these...happy tears?" They sure as hell didn't look like it.
Meg made a loud, honking sound midway between a laugh and a sob. "Hardly! Before I could even think how to answer him, he was outlining our future. You know how he's a little older than you and me? Well, it turns out he's in quite a hurry to become a father."
"And this was the first you'd heard about it?"
"I knew he wanted to be a dad someday. I didn't know he wanted to be one now. I have nieces and nephews. I love them, but I see how much work they are. There are a lot of things a childless married couple can do that they might not have the freedom-or disposable income-for after kids come along. When I tried telling Nolan that, it was like he misunderstood, that he just thought I was worried I wouldn't be a good mom, so he kept reassuring me and trying to get me to see things his way."
Recalling how Meg had come to her rescue post-Sean with mimosas, Dani asked, "Do we need liquor for this?" She wasn't sure what she had in the cabinets, but if it would help her friend, she'd find something.
Meg blew her nose. "Can I just have some ice water? I'm feeling a little dehydrated."
"Coming right up." She filled two glasses and returned to the living room. "For what it's worth, when you decide you are ready for children-many moons from now-you will make a fantastic mom."
Her friend had an innately nurturing spirit and optimistic outlook. She was fun, the kind of mother who would finger-paint with her kids and laugh at the mess, but she was also a successful businesswoman, smart and savvy. And unlike Dani, she'd never accidentally swear in front of young ears.
Meg gave her a watery smile, showing appreciation for the support. "If Nolan had said anything like that, I might still be there now. His repeated attempts to bring me around to his way of thinking are what caused the excrement to really hit the fan. He told me he'd known from the first time he laid eyes on me that I was made to be a mom, that I had a generous smile and compassionate eyes. And child-bearing hips."
Dani choked on her water.
"Yeah. I took offense, too, but he assured me it was a compliment, not criticism, that he considers me 'pleasingly plump.'"
"He called you plump? Bastard."
"It was so awful. Here was this guy offering me everything I want, but he ruined it. He kept saying he loves me, but I'm not sure he understands me at all. Get this-in the imaginary future he has all mapped out for us, he assumed I'd quit working at the store to be a stay-at-home mom. He said that remaining a silent partner would bring welcome income, but that selling corsets and lace panties isn't a respectable job for a mother. Tell that to my sister who co-owns the place and has two kids!"
"I'd pay money to see him tell your sister. Marissa would lay him out flat."
"The more he talked, the clearer it became that I've completely wasted the past six months. And it's not like I can keep living in his house now that I've broken up with him. Can I stay here tonight?"
"Of course." The sofa folded out into a bed. "Not the poshest of accommodations, but mi crappy apartment es su crappy apartment. Seriously, stay as long as you need." As a real-estate agent, she knew there were dozens of factors that played into choosing a living arrangement. Desperation shouldn't be one of them. There was no need for Meg to go from one rash housing situation to another. "For now, all we have to do is address getting your stuff out of Nolan's place and into temporary storage. The rest, we'll figure out with time."
Meg's face crumpled. "You were right all along. I never should have moved in with him so soon. Then I wouldn't be in this mess."
"Don't beat yourself up." Dani squeezed her shoulder. "It doesn't matter what I thought. You were brave enough to take a chance. I've been thinking a lot about chances." Second chances, missed chances. "They offer rewards and pose risks. How are we supposed to know which risks are worth it if we never take them?"
"Thank you." Meg leaned her head back, staring forlornly at the ceiling. "But for the record? I wish I hadn't taken it."