Bundle of Joy (17 page)

I'd forgotten how much fun he can be
, Caroline thought during the entree
. He makes me feel less alone.

I like her laugh
, thought Charlie.
Why didn't I remember that?

The sky was dark when they left the restaurant, a clear summer night sky spangled with stars. Caroline leaned against the fender of his four-wheel drive and looked up toward the Big Dipper.

"I missed the Perseid showers this year," she said, thinking of the annual meteor displays. "First year since I was a child."

"Nothing spectacular this time around," said Charlie, leaning next to her. "Too hazy."

"You know about the Perseid showers?"

"I'm not as dumb as I look, Caroline."

She touched his forearm. "I didn't mean it that way."

"You sure about that? You sounded pretty surprised."

"Remember I don't know all that much about you, Charles. Your choice of toothpaste might surprise me."

"Colgate."

She smiled. "Tartar control?"

"Regular," he said. "I don't go for frills."

"Now that doesn't surprise me."

"You probably like all that fancy stuff with the pump-top containers."

"Actually, no." She hesitated. "I use a natural peppermint toothpaste from a little apothecary in Princeton."

Charlie's groan could have been heard all the way in Manhattan. Caroline gave him a good-natured poke in the ribs.

"None of that," she said. "We're all entitled to our idiosyncrasies."

He grinned; she could see the flash of his white teeth in the gathering darkness.

"Like those knee socks of yours?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Charles."

"Those knee socks you wear to bed. White with red stripes." his chuckle sounded low and particularly male. "Who'd've figured the glamorous Caroline in red-and-white striped knee socks?"

One month ago she would have been humiliated to have Charlie know about her candy cane knee socks. Tonight she felt strangely warmed by his teasing, almost the way a wife might.

"And how do you know about my footwear?" she asked.

"You were wearing them the night I carried you to bed."

"You never carried me to bed."

Again that laugh. "The hell I didn't. I came home one night and found you sacked out on the sofa in a frilly nightgown and knee socks. I didn't want to wake you up so I carried you into your room."

"Thank you," she said, suddenly prim. "I appreciate it."
Good grief,
she thought.
What on earth was I wearing besides those blasted knee socks?

"I liked that shorty nightgown," he said, as if he'd read her mind. "You should get one in black."

"I should get one in extra-large," she said, shaking her head. "My shorty nightgown days are numbered."
Did you keep your hands to yourself, Donohue? I wish I could remember....

"You're a good-looking woman now," he said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. "You'll be a good-looking woman when you're nine months along."

A compliment! The last thing on earth she'd ever expected from Charlie Donohue. "Thanks," she said, keeping her own tone equally matter-of-fact. "I hope you're right."

They were quiet on the drive home. Charlie turned on the radio to a classical music station (another big surprise) and Caroline closed her eyes and let her mind drift free. Why couldn't it always be like this, she wondered, so peaceful, so effortless? The evening had started out abysmally, what with her crying in her underwear and all, but to her amazement it had somehow evolved into something special.

Too soon Charlie turned into the parking lot and angled his truck into the spot next to her sports car. Caroline had been dozing beside him; her even breathing sounded sweeter to him than Brahms.

"Home already?" she mumbled, half-asleep.

"Yep." He turned off the ignition and climbed out. Crossing behind the vehicle, he opened the passenger's door. "Everybody out."

Caroline stifled a yawn. "I'm so comfortable," she said drowsily. "Why didn't anyone tell me how comfortable trucks are?"

"You wouldn't have believed it, princess. Now come on. Let's get you up to bed."

Later on he wasn't entirely why he did it but Charlie bent over and scooped her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest.

"You don't have to do this," she said. "I can walk."

"I know."

"This is silly." She snuggled closer.

"Right."

He carried her up the stairs and into the foyer.

"You can put me down now," said Caroline.

"Not yet I can't."

She looked at him.

He looked at her.

"Charles," she whispered, her hand against his chest. "We don't need complications."

"Quiet," said Charlie, his voice gruff. Lowering his head he kissed her full on the mouth as he'd wanted to do for hours. Her lips were softer than he'd remembered, more sensual. She tasted sweeter, though maybe that was because he wanted her more than even he had realized.

He felt like he could stand there in the middle of that foyer for the rest of his life, as long as she was in his arms. What the hell was happening to him that he was reduced to hanging all of his hopes on one kiss?

They broke apart for an instant and he heard her deeply female sigh of--what? Bewilderment? Pleasure?

Resignation?

That sigh acted upon Charlie like a bucket of ice water. All of the insecurities and doubts that had plagued him the past few weeks flooded over him.
You don't have any rights over her...this isn't about love, it's about the kid...just because it happened once, doesn't mean it was right...you're not her type and you damn well never will be....

With regrets, he put her down.

"I'd better hit the sack," he said, dragging a hand through his hair. "Gotta get to the bar early tomorrow."

Caroline nodded. Her cheeks were flushed as if with fever and her eyes looked teary. "I have an early day, as well." She hesitated then raised up on tiptoe. "Goodnight, Charles. Thank you for going to the doctor with me."

He nodded
. Kiss her, you moron. Don't you know an invitation when you see one?
"Sleep well."

"You too."

They hesitated, each praying the other would take that one important step, but the moment flared once then faded away. Caroline went to her room and Charlie went to his, but it was a long time before either one of them slept.

The Second Trimester

From that night on everything was different between Charlie and Caroline Donohue. The tension that had existed between them was still there but it was no longer the tension caused by two very different people forced together under the same roof.

No, this tension was something else entirely and it had sprung to life, taut and dangerous, with that kiss in the hallway. Oh, they tried to pretend things were still the same, but with that kiss had come the knowledge that there was more between them than the baby.

Caroline awoke the next morning sleepy, disoriented, and still aching for his kiss. She'd spent the whole night tossing and turning; every time she closed her eyes she saw Charlie's face swimming before her. His vivid green eyes. His powerful jaw. That marvelous, sexy, unattainable mouth. One moment she was eminently thankful that he hadn't seen fit to kiss her, while the next moment she was swept with bitter regret.

She stumbled into the kitchen, dressed in her bathrobe, and started in surprise at the sight of her husband sitting at the kitchen table nursing a cup of coffee.

"Charlie!" She fumbled at the belt on her robe and wished she'd taken time to curl her hair before venturing into the front of the apartment. "What are you doing up?"

"I go in early today, remember?" His smile was easy, but the look in his eyes was sharp and all-encompassing. She could feel his gaze as it trailed up the length of her legs and lingered at her breasts.

She cleared her throat. "Regular or decaf?"

"This is regular," he said, "but decaf's on the stove."

Gratefully she turned toward the stove. Her hand trembled as she lifted the coffee pot and poured the liquid into her favorite cup. He wasn't wearing a shirt. Charlie Donohue was sitting there at her finely-made kitchen table in nothing but a pair of cut-offs and a smile. His muscles rippled in the morning sunlight that streamed through the front window. His stomach was flat as a washboard and she'd already managed to memorize the line of curly black hair that furred his belly and angled down past his waistband.

"You okay?" he asked, pushing back his chair and walking over to the stove.

"I'm--I'm fine." She added a generous splash of milk to her cup.

"You sound like you're having trouble breathing."

"Allergies," she said smoothly. "I have allergies."

It wasn't exactly a lie. Temptation made it very hard for her to breathe.

#

The last few days of August were hot and steamy. Caroline was short-tempered and irritable; she spent most of her time in air-conditioned rooms, sipping decaffeinated iced tea and dreaming of winter. She went out of her way to steer clear of her husband. The sheer power of his sexuality unnerved the daylights out of her and she decided retreat was the smartest course of action she could take.

Charlie pulled double shifts at the bar, holding down the fort both as cook and bartender while Bill O'Rourke and his wife vacationed in the Poconos. Three times in three days he saw Caroline in dishabille and his will power was running out.

Charlie and Caroline saw little of each other and both felt the tug of loneliness inside their hearts. It looked as if they would continue along their solitary paths until Caroline reached her due date, both so careful to avoid temptation, but Sam unknowingly stepped into the breach with a Labor Day barbecue invitation, offering them the perfect opportunity to re-connect.

Caroline was at work on the Saturday before Labor Day. Both Rhonda and Denise were on vacation and Caroline was alone, save for a soft-spoken young woman looking for the perfect dress to wear to a wedding that very afternoon.

"I wish you had come in yesterday," Caroline said. "We had a lovely garden party taffeta you would have adored. It's not due back for another three days."

"I'll take anything," said the woman. "Sack cloth and ashes if that's all you have."

"We can do better than that," said Caroline with a chuckle. "Why don't you go in the back and take off your clothes and I'll bring you a selection of outfits."

The woman disappeared down the hallway and Caroline yawned. She'd been stifling that yawn for the past five minutes and it was an enormous relief to give in at last.

"Not sleeping well these days?"

She started at the sound of her husband's voice in the doorway.

"Charles! I didn't hear you come in."

"I've been meaning to talk to you about that," he said, closing the door behind him. "Don't you think you should hang some bells on this door or something? An army could march through this place and you'd never know it."

"Princeton isn't exactly a high-crime area," she pointed out gently. "I think I'm safe."

"I'll come by tomorrow before work and rig something up," he said, ignoring her protests. "You can't be too careful."

Oh, Donohue,
she thought as he helped himself to a cup of coffee from the display on the sideboard.
Don't you know that you're what's truly dangerous?
That army Charlie talked about could storm her shop and not cause her half the trouble that he could simply by showing up on her doorstep and reminding her that she had needs that money and success could never fulfill.

"So what brings you here?" she asked, smiling at the sight of his large, masculine hand surrounding the fragile china teacup. "I'm certain you're not doing a spot check on my safety."

He looked vaguely uncomfortable, appealingly vulnerable. Her heart did an odd little leap inside her chest and she took a deep breath to steady herself. A clear vision of how he'd looked at her kitchen table, shirtless and unbearably sexy, flooded her memory.
Ridiculous! The man is your husband.

"Sam and Murphy are having their annual Labor Day bash. I thought we might like to go together."

A smile played at the corners of her mouth. "Are you asking me for a date, Charles?"

"Weird, isn't it?" He pushed his silky dark hair off his forehead and grinned. "Asking your own wife to a barbecue."

"I'd love to go with you."
This isn't a high school prom, Caroline. You don't have to be so blasted happy about it.

The look of uneasiness vanished and his old cocky expression took its place. "Sam wants us to bring potato salad and a dessert. I'll take care of it."

Caroline sighed in mock relief, struggling to maintain her cool composure. "The other guests will be forever in your debt."