What a Man's Gotta Do (20 page)

Oh, that was worth a lazy, sated grin. Okay, so she was a little sore—if Eddie's performance last night was anything to go by, he must've been hell on wheels at seventeen—but heaven knew when they'd get that opportunity again. Or even if there would be another opportunity, since they didn't exactly discuss it.

“Hey. No whining,” she muttered to herself as she swung her legs out of bed. “You knew what you were letting yourself in for.” Robe and slippers donned, she made a quick pit stop before shuffling into the kitchen, letting the dog out, putting on coffee.

The phone rang, scaring her out of her wits.

“Hel—?”

“It's a boy!” Del practically shouted into her ear. “Merry Christmas! We've got a great big, gorgeous boy! Eight and a half pounds!”

With a cry of delight, Mala sagged against the counter. “Oh,
Del! How wonderful! When? What's his name? Is Galen okay?”

“She's fine! Oh, my God…it was incredible…she was incredible…I've seen her put more effort into a sneeze, I swear…the kid just popped out—”

Mala smiled. Men were so clueless.

“—his name's Sam. After Galen's father…”

Del's voice was shaking with emotion, bringing tears to Mala's eyes as well. If Scott had even been half this excited over his childrens' births…

Envy spurted through her, so hot and fierce it scared her.

“—I gotta go make about a million more calls! Oh…what?” Mala heard muffled conversation, then Del came back with, “Galen says she's gonna be in here until tonight, but if you could possibly stop by—”

“Like you could keep me away!” she said brightly, grabbing a napkin off the counter to wipe away her tears. “Congratulations, you guys! I'll see you later!”

Mala poured herself a cup of coffee, wandered out into the living room, discovered she'd forgotten to unplug the tree lights. Gee, that was real smart.

She squatted to yank the plug from the wall, only to crumple cross-legged on the floor by the fragrant, glittering, eccentrically decorated tree. The pup wriggled over and crawled into her lap; she clamped her arms around his scrawny, scratchy neck, staring at the spot in front of the tree where she and Eddie had gone at it like a pair of crazed rabbits.

And she sighed, not even realizing that tears were trickling down her cheeks.

 

“…so, since the baby came earlier than we'd expected, I should be ready to come back to work by March first.”

Eddie had barely heard what Galen was saying, concentrating on the sleeping baby in her arms. He'd never been this close to a newborn, he realized. Wouldn't've been this close to this one, if Galen hadn't've called him this morning, asked him to come see her before she left the hospital, if it was at all possible. It wasn't like he could exactly say “no,” not with
how good she'd been to him. Besides, he genuinely liked her, and Del, and was pleased as all get-out for them. Galen had told him how much Del had worried over her with this pregnancy, what with his losing his first wife in childbirth and all. And he'd seen that worry, etched in Del's face, even when he smiled. So now that Galen had safely delivered their son, that was one thing Del didn't have to bother himself about anymore.

Of course, there were a passel more worries down the road, but Eddie didn't figure Del needed reminding about that—

“Eddie?”

He jerked his head back up, meeting Galen's beaming gaze. Sunshine streamed through the open miniblinds in the pink-walled birthing room, which with those flowered sheets and everything looked more like somebody's bedroom than any hospital room Eddie'd ever seen.

“Did you hear me? About my coming back on March first?”

“There's no hurry,” he heard himself say. “I told you, my new job doesn't start until April. So you take all the time you need to be with that little boy of yours.”

She gave him one of those astute looks women were so good at. “Del said there was a message on our machine at home. The Gardners accepted my offer for the restaurant.”

Eddie shifted in the padded chair. “Well, hey—that's great! You sure are having one heck of a Christmas, aren't you?”

“And it would be even better if I knew I could count on you to run the new location for me.” She batted her big turquoise eyes, but Eddie knew she was only half joshing. “So I wouldn't have to worry about finding someone else during these first few weeks as a new mother…?”

He stared right at her, but if he thought that was going to shake her up, or loose, he was sorely mistaken. She might've had a confidence problem at one time, but there was nothing wimpy about her now, boy. “Thought you said you had some interviews lined up?”

“I lied.”

His breath left his lungs in a rush. “I'm real sorry, Galen. But the answer's still no.”

Those sea-blue eyes cut straight through him for another
second or two. Then, with a sigh, Galen looked down at the snoozing infant in her arms, her long, short-nailed fingers reverently touching the baby's face, his tummy, his tiny hands. “I had five miscarriages, during my first marriage,” she said. “And a tubal pregnancy that nearly killed me. I never, ever thought I'd see this day.”

Something propelled Eddie to his feet and over to the side of the bed to look more closely at Galen's little miracle with his scrunched up face and thatch of nearly black hair, just like his daddy's. To Eddie's extreme surprise, he started to get all choked up.

“And to think,” she said, “I almost didn't marry Del.”

Eddie's gaze jerked back to Galen, even though her attention was still riveted to the baby. “Why not?”

“Because I was scared.”

“Of what?”

She lifted her eyes to his. “Of feeling safe, if you can believe that.”

That he understood exactly what she meant didn't make her revelation any less startling. Nor did he miss the fact that she was obviously trying to make a point, one which he heard, all right, but wasn't about to take. Women were like that, always tryin' to fix up everybody else's lives the instant they got their own worked out. If not before. But he had exactly zip time to think about all this when Mala and the kids burst into the room, everybody carrying flowers or balloons or a present of some kind. Mala stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Eddie, her cheeks red as apples, though that could've been the cold. She'd once again shrouded herself in those godawful shapeless clothes she wore, but Eddie's skin heated at the thought of what was underneath.

“Come see, come see!” Galen squealed, oblivious to the crackling going on between Mala and him, then whispered, “How the heck did you get the kids in here?”

Mala yanked her gaze away from Eddie and scooted over to the bed, pressing her hand to her heart when she saw the baby. “They're supposed to be sitting outside in the hall,” she said. “Soon as no one was looking, we snuck in. Oh, my God,
Galen—he's
gorgeous!
” Then she looked at Galen, frowning. “I hope you don't mind. That I brought the kids?”

Galen looked sternly at the pair of redheads now ogling her child. “You guys have your rabies shots up-to-date?”

“Huh?” said Carrie, wrinkling her nose.

“Never mind. So whaddya think? Isn't he just the cutest thing?”

Eddie watched in amazement as Miss Priss went all tender and mushy, even though she still managed to be her usual bossy self when Lucas tried to touch the baby, except then he caught the funny look Mala was giving the baby, and suddenly he didn't know where to look that wouldn't get him in trouble. Then the baby yawned or something, which made the kids start giggling and the women just go all to pieces. And Eddie watched all this as something hot and brutal crushed against his chest, and he thought about last night, and how Mala had felt in his arms and underneath him and how he'd never known another woman like her, never would again, and how he knew he should give her up and how he knew he couldn't, at least not yet, not until he got his fill of her, and oh, sweet heavenly Father, what if he never did?

Then Del and Wendy came in from wherever they'd been, and Wendy came right up to him and gave him a big hug which he hadn't expected and didn't know what to do with, and the room swirled with all these smiles and all this laughter and none of it was for him, it never was, never would be, and who the
hell
did he think he was kidding, pretending like he was a part of this?

“I gotta go,” he said, and bolted from the room.

 

Mala nearly slipped on the tile floor in her rush to get out into the hallway. “Eddie! Wait!”

He hadn't gotten very far, a few feet, maybe. But he turned, his fists rammed into the pockets of the shearling jacket, his features strained, and she felt his fear as sharply as if it had been her own.

She understood. Sympathized, even. But damned if she was going to let him run again.

“What was that all about?”

“I don't know. I don't…” He paced away, then turned back, rammed a hand through his hair. “I suddenly felt…”

“Like you were being smothered.”

“Yeah,” he said on an exhaled breath.

“Hey, if it makes you feel any better, being around that much happiness makes my teeth ache, too.”

After a moment, she saw him relax. Not a lot. But enough.

“So it's not just me?”

“God, no. I've just become more inured to it, that's all.”

But her reassurance hadn't eased the panic in his eyes, and the hope she'd felt for a few crystal clear moments last night quickly faded. An overly cheerful orderly wheeled the lunch cart onto the floor, stopping at the room next door. Which meant Galen's was next, which was crammed with at least three people too many.

“Oh, crud—” She whirled around, one hand on the door. “I've got to get the kids out!”

Eddie grabbed her by the arm. “Wait, Mala—I just want you to know…”

“That last night was great, but—”

“Dammit, woman, you got a real problem with letting folks finish their sentences, you know that?”

She stilled, caught in that intense blue gaze, then said, “Sorry. Automatic reaction to waking up alone.”

Eddie swore, then shook his head. “I'm sorry. I…needed some time to think, is all,” he said, his voice no louder than a breath. “And I came down this mornin' to apologize and explain, but you'd already taken off. But I just want to say, from my standpoint, at least, last night wasn't a one-night stand. Not if you don't want it to be—”

“I don't.”

“I swear, I'm gonna start clamping my hand over your mouth.”

“Okay, okay…I'm sorry. You were saying?”

“As long as you understand, I can't offer you…what those people have in there. I don't know how to be the kind of man Del is. Or your brother or your father. And I still think that's
not fair to you—close your mouth, Mala, until I've said my piece—but you've turned me inside out with wanting you, and I'm not just talking about sex, even though that would be the safest thing, especially since I'm still leavin', come spring, and here I am, standing here in the middle of a hospital hallway runnin' off at the mouth like a dadburned idiot….”

When she determined he'd run out of steam, she said, “Is it my turn now?”

He nodded, looking so bewildered, her heart twinged. She'd never seen a man look so…lost. And, oh, but it was so hard to stand back and give him the room he needed to find himself.

“Quit beating yourself up, okay? You don't have to apologize or explain yourself to me. All I want is to just enjoy…being with you, for as long as that lasts. But you know what? Nobody…” She swallowed, realizing she was starting to shake so hard she could barely talk. “Nobody's ever told me before that I turned him inside out. And you have no idea how much of a gift…”

Her voice caught. Eddie bent over, pressed his lips to her forehead. “Merry Christmas, Miss Mala,” he whispered, then turned and strode down the hall.

H
e'd been afraid, after the scene at the hospital the day Sam was born, that Mala'd go all mushy on him whenever they got together, which would seriously jeopardize their affair, which Eddie seriously did not want to happen. But since two weeks had passed without a single tear or shuddering sigh, Eddie had begun to breathe easier. After all, the day had been an emotional minefield, between the baby's birth and their having had sex for the first time and it being Christmas and all.

Not that her words hadn't affected him, about nobody having ever said anything like that to her before. And maybe, if he'd been smart, he shouldn't've said it to begin with. Except it was true, for one thing. And he wanted her to know she was more than just a body to him, for another. He just didn't want things to get, well, out of hand or anything.

Not that there seemed to be any danger in that, far as he could tell. She welcomed him into her bed when she could—which, with the kids being there so much, wasn't nearly as often as either of them would have liked—but didn't get all whiny and possessive when they had to be apart. Which was good. Real good. Especially as he didn't see the kids all that much, except
in passing, so there was no way they were in any danger of pretending like they were a family or anything….

“Damn,” he heard her say, her hand still on the kitchen phone receiver.

It was Saturday morning. She'd ambushed him when he'd come in last night, downright giddy with the news that
both
kids were spending the night elsewhere, and in fact, would be away all today as well, which was a blessing because she was hosting Galen's after-the-fact baby shower later and the last thing she needed was a pair of bickering children underfoot. So they'd taken advantage of the situation to enjoy the heck out of themselves most of the night and into this morning, but now it was nearly noon and he had to head into work in a couple hours and she had a mountain of stuff to do, she said, before the guests started arriving at two.

“What's up?” he said, sidling up to her and slipping his arms around her waist from behind, just to smell her, to feel her one last time before he left. And he knew he had to be careful, showing affection like that, but…

She sighed, leaning back against his chest, and he thought…

Never mind what he thought.

“That was Tracy's mother. Where Carrie spent the night? Anyway, Tracy has a cold or something, so her mother's bringing Carrie home.”

Eddie extricated himself from Mala while he still could, planted his butt on a chair to pull on his boots. “It's not that big a deal, is it? I mean, if she has to hang out during this shower thing?”

Mala gave him one of those looks women are just born knowing how to do. “In theory, no. But this
shower thing
is for women. As in, grown-ups. As in…” She waved her hand. “You wouldn't understand.”

Eddie chuckled, let his foot clomp onto the floor. “I bet I can guess. Y'all talk about sex and stuff, and havin' a kid around'll cramp your style?”

“Honestly, Eddie. Why do men think that every time women get together, they talk about sex?”

“Hey. I've seen
Sex And The City.
” Mala lifted her brows. “Once.”

She laughed. “It's a
baby
shower, for God's sake. It's just that we can't hear ourselves think with the kids around, so we agreed we could all live without them for two hours.”

Then he heard himself say, “Think she'd like to hang out with me at the restaurant? I mean, if that'd help?”

Mala gave him another look, one he couldn't translate right off, didn't figure he wanted to, but he also figured it wouldn't hurt to say, “Don't read anything into this, darlin',” and she said, “I wasn't.”

Except Eddie had a very uncomfortable feeling one of them wasn't exactly being truthful, here.

In any case, that was how he came to have an oddly subdued little girl sitting up on a stool beside him as he added freshly grated Parmesean and Romano cheeses to the already ground mixture of basil, pine nuts and garlic in Galen's large marble mortar. Sure, he could make his pesto sauce in a blender—it was both quicker and easier—but there was nothing like the old-fashioned way to relieve tension. Which definitely needed relieving right about now. Carrie'd gone willingly enough with him, when her mama'd suggested it, but she wasn't exactly brimming over with enthusiasm.

“You haven't touched your pizza,” he said, now adding olive oil, a few drops at a time, to the mixture, then some softened butter. He stirred, watching the kid off and on, then tasted…oh, yeah. He was
good.
Eddie picked up another spoon, dipped it into the sauce and held it out to her. “Wanna taste?” Curls danced when she shook her head. “Hey, sugar—you feelin' okay?”

Her eyes darted to his face along about the same time it hit him what he'd called her. That for some reason, he actually liked the little twerp, had ever since that afternoon when he'd put up the Christmas lights. Not that he was attached to her or anything, because he wasn't. But she was a spunky little thing, and smart, and it sickened him to think her own father had given up the chance to watch her grow up, see how she was gonna turn out.
And now, in answer to his question, she gave this sad little shrug which made Eddie's stomach flip.

“Okay, spit it out. What's the matter?”

When she looked up, he was startled to see tears hovering on her lashes. “How come you haven't been around? Don't you like me an' Lucas?”

Something like an electric jolt zinged through his veins. Eddie set the bowl of pesto aside, then started in preparing his veal cutlets. “'Course I like you. I've just been busy, is all.”

“Oh.” She picked up the pizza, nibbled at it, put it back down, then daintily wiped her hands on her napkin, even though they weren't dirty to begin with. “My daddy was here, did you know?”

Eddie's breathing hitched; he glanced over at the little girl, then returned to dipping the cutlets in the egg mixture Marlene had already prepared. “Oh?”

“Yeah. I heard Mama talkin' to Nana about it the other day, when she didn't know I was listening.” She looked up at him, her eyes round with confusion. “He was here, but he didn't come to see me.”

Oh, Lord.
“Which is his loss, baby,” he said carefully.

“Justin Martin, he's this kid in my class? He said I was too bossy, that nobody likes bossy girls.”

“Yeah, well, some boys have trouble dealin' with strong women. So you can just tell Justin whatever-his-name-is to go…jump in a lake.” Then it hit him.

He dropped a cutlet onto a platter of bread crumbs, looked her straight in the eye. “Don't tell me you think your daddy left because you're too bossy?”

She shrugged. Eddie swallowed down the choice cussword that tried real hard to get out. “That's bull, Carrie. And let me tell you something…why ever your daddy left, believe me, it's because there's somethin' wrong with
him.
Not you. You hear me?”

The little girl seemed to think that over for a minute, then said, “You think I'm strong?”

“Sure do. Just like your mama.”

“Do you like Mama?”

Damn.
“Everybody likes your mama, you know that.”

“Daddy didn't.”

“Honey, any man who'd leave your mama—” he flipped a half-dozen cutlets over in the bread crumbs “—and you and Lucas—has a serious screw loose. And you can tell anybody who asks I said so.”

Carrie suddenly beamed, then picked up the pizza and took a big old chomp out of it, like the weight of the world had just been lifted from her shoulders.

Only to settle inexplicably right smack on Eddie's.

 

Okay, so maybe this wasn't turning out to be like any baby shower she'd ever been to. What it was, was like being trapped in an edition of
Cosmo! Live!
Which is what happened, Mala supposed, when you took a group of otherwise educated, accomplished women and detached them from their children for longer than twenty minutes. Especially
this
group of educated, accomplished women. The music was jumpin', there wasn't a thing on the food table that wasn't on the Heart Association's hit list and the hottest argument of the afternoon had been over which male movie star had the cuter butt.

God, she hadn't had this much fun since—

“It's not fair.”

—this morning with Eddie.

Brows raised, Mala turned to Nancy Braden, Hannah Braden's tiny, spunky stepmother and one of Galen's best friends. “What's not fair?”

Big brown eyes sparkled underneath a froth of impossibly kinky hair. “That you're the only unmarried woman in this room
and
I'm guessing the only one who got any last night.”

Mala nearly choked on one of her mother's Swedish meat-balls. “Excuse me?”

“Ladies?” Nancy turned toward the clot of women in the center of Mala's living room, rapping her spoon on her plate. “Quick poll, okay? And no cheating. Who among us has had sex within the last twenty four hours?”

That got several groans, a few titters, one shriek of outright
laughter—from Galen, who'd only given birth three weeks before—but not a single, solitary raised hand.

Nancy turned back to Mala with a triumphant smirk. “I rest my case.”

“But I didn't say—”

A red-tipped finger snagged Mala's oversize sweater collar, tugged it down. “Ahem. Exhibit A. Fresh hickey. And a damned nice one, too.”

“God, Mala.” Elizabeth Sanford appeared out of nowhere, forking her fingers through her newly cut Successful Realtor blond 'do. “You're positively glowing. Is it your makeup?”

Nancy snickered. “Maybe it's Maybelline, and maybe it's—”

“Hey, Ma!” Mala caught her mother's approach out of the corner of her eyes, grabbed her by the arm and steered her toward the far end of the table. “Did you try some of Sophie's…” She glanced over. “…stuff?”

Bev gave her a squinty-eyed look, then gasped. “Ohmigod, the drought is over, isn't it?”

“And has been for some time, if those pink cheeks are any indication,” Sophie said, her tummy round underneath a baggy sweater.

Talk about wanting to die. Except the worst was far from over, because then somebody—her mother, no less—said, “It's Eddie, right?” and Nancy said, “Eddie who?” which prompted somebody else to say, “Eddie King, from the restaurant, who else?” and Elizabeth clapped Mala hard enough on the back to make her choke on another meatball and said, “Way to go,
Mala!
He is so
hot!
”

At which point, Galen called out from across the room where she sat nursing Sam on Mala's sofa, “Hey, guys—have pity on the poor woman stuck over here with baby attached to her breast. What's going on?”

“Nothing!” Mala practically shrieked, her cheeks burning, and the room fell silent. Except later, when she'd escaped into the kitchen, Galen came in and put an arm around her shoulders and said in that soft way of hers, “Is he worth it?”

Mala met the redhead's trenchant gaze and sucked in a breath. “Yeah.”

Galen smiled. “You know, Del didn't give up on me, even when I ran screaming in the opposite direction. He just waited until I got tired of running.” She folded her arms over her middle, her smile growing wistful. Content. “And I can't tell you how glad I am he did. And you know what I think?”

“What?”

“That one day, Eddie's going to thank you for not giving up on him, either.”

 

“…anyway, it's not a big deal or anything. Just a bunch of football fanatics yelling and screaming and stuffing their faces with junk food in front of Pop's big-screen TV.”

In the midst of slipping on his Henley T-shirt, Eddie twisted around, his insides torquing at the sight of Mala lying on her side in the rumpled bed, her head propped in her hand, her dimples on full display. He'd surprised her in the middle of the day, dragging her away from her work despite her laughing shrieks of protest. Now, an hour later, her hair was an electrified mess, her skin still flushed from their lovemaking and the short nap she'd taken while he'd showered.

It had snowed again last night, just enough to brighten up the week-old slush and set her bedroom—and her—to glowing from the reflection. She'd pulled up the sheet in a half-assed nod to modesty, but her dark nipples were easily visible beneath the smooth, white cotton.

Lord above, this was The Ideal Situation for a man, wasn't it? A great lady who laughed and listened and made him feel impossibly good when he was with her, brain-scrambling sex and not a string in sight. Yet, he couldn't deny the tension that shimmered just below the surface. And the weird thing of it was, it was because she
wasn't
demanding that he felt so off-balance.

When this ended, they would have had something like three months together, which was longer than any affair he'd ever had. Longer, even, than his marriage had lasted.

Yet it would be over in a heartbeat.

“Hey,” she said gently, stretching out one foot under the covers to prod him in the butt. “I know that last time was pretty good, but did you go deaf or what?”

He forced himself out of the melancholy he was too damn close to slipping into and scrambled back across the bed.
“Pretty good?”
With a growl, he loomed over her, grinning when she dissolved into giggles. Damn, but it made him feel good, making her laugh. “My ears
are
still ringing, now that you mention it, and you're tellin' me it was only
pretty good?
”

“Okay, okay,” she managed breathlessly when he pretended like he was going to tickle her. “It was out of this world.”