Not Quite Forever (Not Quite series) (24 page)

He took her lips and wrapped his arms around her hips. Dakota wasn’t sure what felt better, the expanse of his hands on her ass or his mouth, his tongue searching out hers.

For the first time in weeks, this wasn’t a good-night kiss, a parting good-bye. His hands found the skin under her shirt and inched up, his thumbs tracing the outline of her underwear and tickling the fullness of her breasts. The sensitive skin under her bra had her gasping with the contact. “I’ve missed you.”

He held her with one hand, pushed away from the couch with the other. “I’m right here.”

Holding on with her legs wrapped around him, Dakota kissed the outside of his ear while he walked to the bedroom. Inside he sat her on the bed and pressed against her.

Perfect. The feel of his weight as she tugged the shirt from his shoulders and tossed it to the floor. Nothing would be better than this.

Walt’s lips met with hers before detouring south. The buttons over her breasts didn’t stand a chance. They popped and at least one flew as Walt explored her skin.

“This outfit has driven me mad all night.”

Reaching around him, Dakota attempted to zip her boots down, only to find the task too difficult. Giving up, she ran her hands over his back and down his firm ass. “Serves you right for not making a move these past weeks.”

He stopped exploring her breasts with his lips to look up. “You wanted me, too?”

“I did.” She eased her hand inside the waist of his jeans. “But I think it’s sweet you held off.”

He stared at her eyes and purposely pinched her breasts. “Sweet?”

“Sugary goodness.”

Walt dipped his head, pushed her bra aside, and nibbled.

There was nothing sweet or delicate in how he brought her nipple to a peak and moved to the next. Heat rushed to her breasts with a tingle and took a swift downward spiral. She moaned, let herself enjoy the sensation of being in Walt’s arms.

Her shirt went one way, her bra another. His lips moved down her breasts, her stomach, and hovered. Was he thinking of their child deep inside her?

Walt’s eyes met hers, hot, and needy. Then he tugged the zipper of her skirt down and tossed it with the rest of her clothing.

“Boots,” she said.

“Keep ’em on.”

With knee-high boots and nothing else, she moved up on the bed and crooked her finger.

Walt fell into her seconds later, his clothes on the floor beside hers.

He filled his palms with her butt and then ran them to the tops of her boots. The smoldering heat in his eyes pressed the right buttons, made her squirm under his stare.

His mouth started at her knee, trailed up her leg. She trembled as her head fell back and he used that sinful mouth on her, bringing her to a fierce, hot rush of release.

Weak and panting, Walt pressed inside, not giving her time to think.

“I’ll slow down,” he managed. “Next time.”

Their bodies moved together, skin to skin, his lips fused to hers as he sucked the rest of her energy and swallowed her whole. Her body was ripe, open, and responding to every thrust.

She pulled her lips away, desperate for air, her second orga
sm was close, just over the next plunge until it was on her. Walt moaned, took more until pleasure rippled through him and emptied into her.

He mumbled something that might have been in a different language.

“I think you killed me.”

“Serves you right,” he whispered next to her ear. “You’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

The feeling was mutual . . . so in sync it frightened her.

The tender moments after making love left her vulnerable and weak. Even with Walt, she’d placed so much weight in these moments only to be left alone.

Walt pulled his weight off her frame, traced his fingers through her hair. “You’re frowning.”

She closed her eyes, unable to take the intensity of his stare.

“Talk to me, Dakota.”

“I want this to work, us to work. In here, out there.”

He traced her eyes until she opened them.

“I’m afraid I’ll open my eyes and you’ll be gone.”

Walt rested his forehead against hers. “I put that fear in your head. If I could take it all back I would.”

“I’m not trying to beat you with it. But I need to be honest. I have nothing to lose by being honest with you.”

“I’m in this, Dakota. Whatever we want us to be, I’m in.”

“I’ve never been this insecure.”

He kissed her, let his lips linger. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m going to get fat.” She wasn’t sure where those words came from, but they were blurted out without a filter.

“Pregnant and sexy. I’ll make love to you every night.”

“You live in Pomona and I’m in Orange County.”

“I’ll move in with you . . . or you can move in with me. I don’t care where we live.”

She felt tears stinging her eyes. “I hate being so emotional. I feel like I’m crying all the time.”

“Hormones are pesky things that muck up an otherwise normal day.” He kissed her again and rolled onto his back, pulling her with him.

Dakota settled into his side and closed her eyes. “I think you should move in with me. Mary’s across the street and I might need her around when you’re in Florida.”

“I’ll take care of everything when we get home.”

“Aren’t you scared?”

“No, Dakota. It feels like we’re doing the right thing.”

It did. Baby steps to move life forward.

The weight of sleep closed in and she sighed. “I’m still wearing my boots.”

Walt’s chest moved as he started to laugh. “God, that’s hot.”

Chapter Twenty-One

They’d barely made it back to California, packed up Walt’s life in Pomona, and moved it to her home before he had to leave.

Dakota dragged Mary from her bed early and forced her presence on a morning walk.

“You’re pushing the friendship card.”

“Suck it up. Walt has only been gone three days and I’ve gained four pounds. How is that possible?”

“You’re pregnant.”

It was cold, for Southern California, both of them wore sweatshirts and sunglasses. “But four pounds?”

“You haven’t gained anything yet. Are you even wearing your fat clothes?”

Dakota rubbed her belly. “My waist is pushing past the first button.”

“Reason to shop if you ask me.”

“I think you’re right. My sweatpants are only going to work for so long.” Mary laughed and Dakota smiled. “I’m just happy I’m not sick every morning.”

They rounded a corner and walked up another couple of blocks. “Have you guys told Walt’s parents yet?”

“We? Ah, no . . . Walt said he’d take care of that this week.”

“Walt, the procrastinator, will take care of it.” Mary didn’t sound convinced.

“He has to. I told Desi last week and I’m going to go public with the information before
Surrender
is released. His sister follows me online.”

“Are you still going to tour?”

“I don’t see why not. I’m going to skip Europe. Make a special trip after the baby is born. I’m told long flights in your third trimester are awful.”

“Maybe you can hook a deal with the Fairchilds and score some of that private plane action.”

“Have you been talking to Walt?”

“No, but if that’s what he’s planning, I’m totally going with you.”

They reached their normal walking turning point and headed home. “Speaking of the Fairchilds, whatever happened with you and Glen?”

“What do you mean, what happened? Glen lives a zillion miles away.”

“He flies his own planes.”

Mary grew silent.

“What are you
not
telling me?”

“Not everyone wants to date a psychologist.”

“Oh, Mary . . . you didn’t.”

Mary moved faster. “I analyze people. It’s what I do.”

“How many times do I have to tell you to leave the clinician at home when you’re getting to know someone? It’s amazing you’ve ever gotten laid.”

“I’m not that bad.”

“Yes, you are. Glen was seriously hot and his eyes were all over you in Florida. Even long-distance booty calls are better than nothing.”

Waving a finger in the air, Mary said, “Battery-operated boyfriends don’t need to be analyzed.”

“You’re right. They don’t talk back and they never let you down. Might as well get yourself a half a dozen cats and live happily-ever-after.”

“I don’t like cats.”

They both jogged across the street, slowed their pace once they hit the last hill.

“Fine, dogs, or birds . . . collect raccoons for all I care.”

“This is classic,” Mary told her. “You’re hooking up, have a baby on the way, and you think I need that, too.”

“I wouldn’t wish an unplanned pregnancy on anyone, least of all you. So get that out of your head. I’m coming to terms with it, but it hasn’t been easy. What I’m talking about is sex for sex’s sake. You might fall into a great pattern of release and relaxation if you hooked up with, let’s say, Glen, once in a while. In order to do that you’ll have to stop asking about his parents and past relationships . . . his childhood.”

Dakota knew Mary was thinking about it. She also knew that it would take a miracle for Mary to loosen the hold she had on her uptight life.

Instead of offering one word of agreement, Mary mumbled, “No one has a pet raccoon.”

Dakota was sitting in the middle of her bed, packages spread all around her. She pulled a pair of maternity jeans from a bag and held them up. She and Mary had laughed at the elastic waist until a woman well past her seventh month walked into the store. Dakota placed three on the counter.

Giving in, she shrugged out of her too-tight pants and pulled on the new ones.

“So much better.” She turned to the side in front of her full-length mirror and tugged her shirt across her belly. “Might as well get used to the new baggy look.”

After going to her closet and pulling several hangers, she returned to her bed when her phone rang.

She answered without looking at the number. “Hello.”

“Dakota?”

“This is.”

Dakota paused, certain it was some kind of phone solicitor.

“It’s JoAnne.”

Not a solicitor.

Dakota swallowed the edge of panic, and steadied her words. “Hello, Mrs. Eddy. How are you?”

The woman’s voice was stone-cold. “I understand my son moved in with you.”

“He did. He’s not here right now.”

“I know that. He just got off the phone with his father and me.” JoAnne’s words were clipped with an edge of agitation that proved she was only a breath away from losing her composure.

Walt didn’t procrastinate. “I see.”

“Do you? Do you see the terrible position you’ve put our son in?”

“Mrs. Eddy—”

“No, you listen to me, young lady. My son had been tricked into marriage once before and I said nothing. I will not be silent now.”

“Mrs. Eddy—”

“I’m not finished.”

Dakota sat on the edge of the bed and prepared herself for the hate that would come.

“Our son is much too responsible to walk away from his mistakes.”

Dakota actually found herself flinching.

“That doesn’t mean he should give up his life. I think what you’ve done here is highly suspicious. What grown woman
accidentally
gets pregnant?”

Dakota opened her mouth to respond and was cut off before she uttered one syllable.

“Now he has given up his job, moved to a different city. What was it, Dakota? You found yourself pushing thirty and decided it was time to have a baby? Waited for the first decent man to enter your life and accidentally forgot a pill?”

Dakota wanted desperately to blast JoAnne Eddy and all her accusations against the wall, or perhaps tell the condescending old bat that she nailed it. Dakota was looking for a baby daddy all along, and boy, did Walt fit the bill.

“If my son wanted to marry you, you’d already have a ring on your finger. You do realize that, don’t you?”

The woman went for blood. “Are you finished?” Dakota asked in a voice so calm and slow even she didn’t recognize it.

“I don’t like you.”

That almost made her laugh. “I figured that out, Mrs. Eddy, but thank you for the clarification. I’ll be sure and take you off the potential babysitters list.”

“I am not raising your child.”

“Oh, bless your heart, did you think I would ever let that happen? If you did, you’re highly mistaken. After this conversation, you’ll be lucky to see our child.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Mrs. Eddy, if I was threatening you, you’d know it. I will tell you this before I hang up. I’m going to try and dig real deep inside of me to understand what possessed you to come off on me like this. I’m not the gold-digging, life-ruining woman you’re painting me to be.”

“You listen—”

“No, you listen. Our child will grow up in a loving home, one free of hate. If you ever want to be a part of that, you might call in a priest to exorcise the disgust from your heart, because I will not stand for it.” Dakota took a solid breath, forced a smile. “Now you go and have a wonderful day, Mrs. Eddy.”

Dakota hung up the phone. “Witch.”

Dakota brought her laptop to bed and plugged away at her manuscript that was flowing like water in her head. Maybe it was her real-life drama fueling her muse, or maybe it was skill, but her work in progress was kicking ass in her head.

This time when the phone rang, Dakota checked the number before she answered. “Hey, Baby Daddy.”

“It’s so good to hear your voice.”

She glanced at the clock on her computer. “You must be exhausted. That or you’re out partying.”

“Dinner did involve a couple of drinks.”

He talked about his day, some of the details flew well over her head, but she listened and added a comment when she could. “And by the way . . . I talked to my parents today.”

“I know.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, your mother called me.”

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes. I don’t think she’s happy with our news.”

“She had little to say when we talked.”

Dakota shook her head and debated for the hundredth time that day on what she should reveal to Walt. Too many details would probably just make matters worse. “You’re the blessed one then; she had plenty to say to me.”

“What? What did she say?”

“You don’t want to know. I’m sure she’s just shocked. Hopefully she’ll come around.”

Walt’s voice dropped. “You don’t have to protect her. I know she can be difficult.”

“Believe me, I’m not protecting her. I’d have to like her to want to protect her. Right now she’s on the generic Christmas card list, you know, the one you have to send even though you don’t want to.”

Walt paused. “You still send out Christmas cards?”

Laughing, she moved the computer off her lap and left her palm over the baby bump. “You need me.”

“Yes, I do.”

She liked that. “Guess what I bought today?”

“A minivan.”

She cringed. “Lord no. But an SUV of some sort might need to make the list. My tiny Beemer will be a pain with a car seat.”

He laughed. “What did you buy?”

“A new wardrobe. Guess who started looking pregnant this week?”

“Really?”

“I kept thinking,
no way, it’s too fast
, but then I looked at the calendar and realized that we’re nearly at the halfway point.”

“Little Horance isn’t giving you trouble, is he?” They’d started saying the most ridiculous names in an effort to spark the right one.

“Philomena is fine. Not one headache. I started moving stuff out of the guest room.”

“Wait until I get home. I don’t want you lifting anything heavy.”

She sighed, snuggled into the three pillows she had behind her. “When are you coming home?”

“I moved my flight up two whole days. I’ll e-mail you the confirmation.”

“You mean you didn’t use Fairchild again?”

“He offered, I said no. Oh, guess who I heard from?”

She liked this, the day-to-day anything and everything about a committed relationship. This she could get used to, even if Walt had to be away once in a while. “Who?”

“The FDA. Looks like the Eddy nasal foreign-object extractor has made it through their system. I’ve already had two competing companies asking for a contract.”

Walt was following his father’s example in some ways. No, it wasn’t with a cardiac clamp helpful for a cardiologist, but something every ER doctor came across in his or her career. Kids were notorious for shoving crap up their noses. Walt had used every device available at work. Some were successful, but his own modified paperclip device worked the best.

“That’s awesome. I’m so excited for you.”

“I’m pretty stoked myself. After four long years, it looks like I might have use for my dad’s lawyers after all. I don’t have the first clue about how to negotiate this kind of deal.”