Nobody's Baby but Mine(92)

“More marshmallow sabotage?”

“I never repeat myself. Think rat poison.”

“You are the most bloodthirsty woman I’ve ever met.”

“It’s a slow and painful death. I don’t recommend it.”

He laughed and headed back into the bathroom, where he shut the door only to pop his head back out. “All this arguing has stirred up my appetite. How ’bout we scrounge up something to eat as soon as I get dressed?”

“All right.”

As the rain continued to fall outside, they dined on soup, salad, and sandwiches, with a side order of taco chips. While they ate, she managed to wheedle a few more details out of him about his work with teenagers and discovered he’d been devoting his time to disadvantaged kids for years. He’d help fund rec centers, made speeches to recruit volunteers for after-school tutoring programs, set up intramural leagues, and lobbied the Illinois state legislature to improve their drug- and sex-education programs.

He shrugged off her comment that not all celebrities would be willing to give up so much time with no obvious reward to themselves. It was just something to do, he growled.

The hallway clock struck midnight and, gradually, their conversation dwindled. An awkwardness settled between them that hadn’t been there before. She toyed with an uneaten bread crust. He shifted his weight in the kitchen chair. She’d been so comfortable all evening, but now she felt awkward and self-conscious.

“It’s late,” she finally said. “I think I’ll head up to bed.” She picked up her plate as she stood.

He rose, too, and removed it from her hand. “You cooked. I’ll clean up.”

But he didn’t head toward the sink. Instead, he stayed where he was and gazed at her with hungry eyes. She could hear his unspoken question. Tonight, Rosebud? Are you ready to cut through all this pretense and do what we both want?

If he had reached out for her, she would have been lost, but he didn’t do that, and she understood that this time she would have to make the first move. His eyebrows rose in a silent dare.

Wings of a panic beat at her breastbone. The new knowledge that she had fallen in love with him made all the difference. She wanted sex between them to matter.

The powerful brain that had guided her throughout her life refused to function, and confusion gripped her. She felt paralyzed, and the most she could manage was a polite, social smile. “I’ve enjoyed tonight, Cal. I’ll fix the gate first thing tomorrow.”

He said nothing; he merely watched her.

She tried to think of some casual comment to defuse the tension, but nothing came to mind. He stood there watching her. She knew he was aware of her uneasiness, but he didn’t seem to share it. Why should he when he didn’t share her feelings? Unlike her, he hadn’t fallen in love.

She turned away, enveloped by a sense of loss. As she left the kitchen, her brain told her she was doing the right thing, but her heart told her she was a coward.

Cal watched her disappear through the doorway, and disappointment filled him. She was running away, and he wasn’t sure why. He hadn’t pushed her tonight. He’d given her space, made certain the conversation stayed on safe topics. As a matter of fact, he’d been enjoying himself so much he’d nearly forgotten about sex. Nearly, but never entirely. He wanted her too much to put it out of his mind. She’d enjoyed their lovemaking last night—he knew she had—so why was she denying both of them one of life’s most basic pleasures?

He carried the dishes from their dinner to the sink and rinsed them off. His disappointment turned into irritation. Why did he let her bother him so much?

Disgusted with himself, he stalked upstairs, but entering his bordello bedroom only made his mood grow bleaker. A crack of thunder rattled the windows, and he realized the storm had intensified. Good. It matched his mood. He sat down on the side of the bed and yanked off one shoe.

“Cal?”

He looked up to see the bathroom door swing open, but just then a blinding flash of lightning shook the walls, and the house was plunged into darkness.

Several seconds ticked by, and then he heard a soft giggle.

He flung down his other shoe. “We just lost our electricity. You want to tell me what’s so funny about that?”

“It’s not exactly funny. It’s more of a good news/bad news situation.”

“In that case, hit me with the good news first.”

“They’re both sort of rolled up into one.”

“Stop stalling.”

“All right. Now don’t get mad, but . . .” Smothered laughter drifted toward him. “Cal . . . I’m naked.”





One month later