The Manning Brides (13 page)

Although they hadn’t discussed the prospect even once, Jamie had hoped Rich
would
suggest moving in with her once he learned she was pregnant. He hadn’t.

She regretted their argument of the day before. Over and over during the long sleepless night, she’d relived their angry exchange and felt worse each time.

She’d overreacted. Rich was only being Rich. She’d lashed out at him because he’d responded to a tense situation with humor.

His parting shot about her not wanting him now that she was pregnant troubled her the most. He couldn’t honestly believe that, could he? Jamie was crazy about Rich. She’d been in love with him for years, but she’d been too blind to recognize it.

After her appointment with Dr. Fullerton, she’d gone to Rich’s office at the Boeing Renton complex. She’d hoped they’d have a few minutes alone to clear the air. But when she arrived, Rich was stone-cold and about as friendly.

Only when they were at his parents’ home did he lower his guard. He’d taken her hand in his and smiled down on her as though they’d never exchanged a cross word. Of course, it could all be for show, but Jamie prayed that wasn’t the case.

“Your mother seems to be in better spirits this evening,” Rich said conversationally. He drove at a relaxed pace, weaving through the narrow neighborhood streets.

“She’s had time to adjust to our news.” Their visit had been short and sweet. Just long enough to offer the reassurances Doris seemed to need. Jamie hadn’t found that difficult, because she was perfectly comfortable in the role of happy mother-to-be.

“Have
you
adjusted to the news?” Rich asked.

“Yes. What about you?”

Rich nodded. “I suppose I should be surprised, but frankly, I’m not. By the way, are you hungry?”

“A little.” Jamie was famished. She’d woken with a queasy stomach that morning and skipped breakfast. Then at noon, she’d eaten a small carton of blueberry yogurt but nothing since.

“Do you want to go to a restaurant and get something to eat?”

“No,” she said, thinking quickly. “We could order pizza and have it delivered to my place.”

He glanced at her, as if the suggestion had astonished him. “Sounds good to me.”

It was nearly eight by the time they got to Jamie’s condominium. While Rich ordered the pizza, Jamie went into her bedroom and changed out of her business suit. She chose jeans and a pale blue sweater.

When she returned to the living room, Rich had loosened his tie and was leafing through the evening paper. He looked up when she entered the room and slowly set the newspaper aside.

“I hope you realize both sets of parents expect me to move in with you now.” The thought apparently weighed heavy on his mind.

“I know.” She sat across from him, leaning forward, and clasped her hands. “Personally I…don’t think it’s such a bad idea.”

“You don’t?” He didn’t seem to believe her.

“I mean…this will probably be the only pregnancy for either of us, and since you’ve been reading so much about it, and seem so interested…it’s only fair that you share as much of the experience as possible.” Jamie hesitated a moment. “Unless, of course, you’d rather not live with me.”

He gave a noncommittal shrug. “I don’t mind.” His gaze moved past her to the hallway that led to the two bedrooms. “Naturally I’ll be sleeping in the spare room.”

“Naturally,” Jamie concurred. But not for long, if everything went as she hoped. She loved Rich. Truly loved him. So far, she’d bungled their relationship and their marriage at every turn. If he were to share these short precious months with her before the birth of their child, there was a chance he might grow to love her.

It was worth the risk.

Worth the potential heartache.

Worth gambling her pride and even her future for this one opportunity.

The pizza arrived soon after, and they sat at the kitchen table, the cardboard box propped open in front of them. They both drank tall glasses of cold milk.

“So you’ve been feeling queasy in the mornings?” Rich posed the question after several minutes of comfortable silence. He too seemed to be working to maintain this fragile peace.

“Only a little. Dr. Fullerton said it would pass soon enough. I haven’t gotten really sick.”

“Good.”

“Dr. Fullerton suggested I nibble on a couple of soda crackers when I wake up.”

“I can bring them to you, if you like.”

Jamie nodded. She
would
like that, but she was afraid to let Rich know how much it would mean to her. Even now, weeks later, she continued to miss their early-morning phone conversations. They’d shared a special closeness then, one that had gone from her life.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” Jamie asked when they’d finished.

“Yes, please.

“Go ahead and read the paper and I’ll get it for you.”

“That’s a nice, wifely thing to do.”

“Yes, it is, isn’t it?” Jamie responded with a saucy smile. She took her time making the coffee. While she waited for it to brew, she cleaned the kitchen, wiped the counters and placed their few dishes in the dishwasher.

Carrying a steaming cup of coffee into the living room, she hesitated when she saw that Rich’s eyes were closed, although the paper was still clutched in his hands.

Smiling to herself, Jamie sat on the nerby ottoman. She took a sip of the coffee as she carefully studied the man she’d married. His features were more relaxed now, his head cocked slightly to one side.

How handsome he was. His good looks were even more appealing in slumber. Not sure what dictated her actions, Jamie set the coffee aside and slipped the newspaper from his unsuspecting grasp. Rich stirred briefly, then nestled more securely in the chair.

Jamie reached for the lamp, dimming it. Then, calling herself a romantic idiot, she slipped into Rich’s lap and pressed her head against his shoulder.

“Jamie?” He sounded unsure.

“Were you hoping to find someone else in your arms?” she asked in a small whisper.

“No.” A smile faintly curved his mouth.

His grin disappeared as his hand framed her face, and his blue eyes held her captive. Jamie could feel her heart pound frantically. Then his thumb caressed the line of her jaw.

“I never realized how beautiful you are,” he whispered. “All these years…”

Jamie dropped her gaze, afraid to meet his eyes. She wasn’t anywhere close to being beautiful, and it hurt, a good kind of hurt, that he should think otherwise.

His mouth sought out hers. The kiss started slowly, gently, so gently that Jamie could feel herself begin to melt. A feeling of sublime languor filled her. It was completely unfair—downright decadent, in fact—that he could make her feel such things with a simple kiss.

Simple.
Rich didn’t know the meaning of the word. Certainly not when it came to kissing.

Jamie heard the whimpering sound before she was aware that it came from her.

Rich ended the kiss as leisurely as he’d begun it. Jamie’s eyes remained closed, and her breathing came in staggered gasps. For long, contented moments, he held her. His fingers were at the back of her head, stroking her hair. In those moments, Jamie felt the air vibrate with sweet, unspoken promises.

He wanted to make love to her.

Jamie wanted it, too.

“I should be heading home?” Rich’s voice rose softly at the end of his statement, turning it into a question.

“No,” she whispered, catching his lower lip between her teeth.

“No?”

“You’re moving in with me, remember?”

“Starting tonight?”

“Starting right this minute.”

“You’re sure?

Jamie smiled and pressed her lips to his. “You want to argue with me?” she murmured.

“No…it’s just…”

She didn’t allow him to finish, kissing him again, cramming her heart, her soul, her
love,
into a single kiss.

She’d surprised him; his gasp confirmed as much. He groaned anew, then deepened the kiss.

They were both trembling when it ended.

Getting off his lap, Jamie stood and held out her hand to Rich. His smoky, passion-hazed eyes met hers, his gaze questioning.

“You’re sure?” he asked her again, his words hoarse with need, his eyes hot with passion and some other emotion she couldn’t quite read. Restraint? Doubt? Jamie didn’t know which.

“I’m sure.”

“You’re already pregnant.”

Why he felt he had to remind her of that was beyond her. “Yes, I know.” As she was speaking, her hands were unfastening the buttons on his shirt. Rich helped her by pulling his tie loose and dropping it to the carpet. Jamie slid the shirt from his shoulders, then ran her hands down the full length of his arms.

His chest captured her attention next. His warm, muscular, chest. She ran her flattened hands over it, marveling at the strength she sensed in him. She closed her eyes, wanting him so badly she felt weak with the need.

“You make me crazy,” he whispered.

“I do?” It made no sense to Jamie.

“Yes. I want you so much you make me ache.”

“I know…. Me, too.”

Rich groaned and took her, in his arms, lifting her against him until she became profoundly aware of his arousal.

For one wild second it was as though the world stood still for them. Rich’s blue eyes appeared aquamarine in the dim light. Bright, intense, filled with promises.

Jamie felt completely vulnerable to him. Vulnerable and desirable, more desirable than she’d ever felt in her life. She smiled and moved away from him.

Rich looked confused, but he released her.

Jamie turned and had gone two steps before she turned around again. A smile quivered at the edges of her mouth. “You coming with me?”

“Where are you going?”

She laughed softly, sexily, and held out her hand to him. “You mean you don’t know?”

R
ich woke in the middle of the night. It took him only seconds to realize he was in bed with Jamie. For the next few minutes he did nothing more than watch his wife as she slept. He drank in every delicate nuance of her beauty. He stared at her as if they’d been separated for months, years, when she’d actually spent the night in his arms.

Gradually his gaze lowered to her lips, parted slightly, her breathing slow and even. She had the most delectable mouth….

Desire came at him unexpectedly. Memories of the gentle way Jamie had led him to her bed suffused him like a mist. She’d held her arms out to him, until the ache of wanting her, needing her, dissolved any will he had to refuse her.

She’d freely opened her heart and her body to him. When she’d cried out in pleasure at her completion, the sound of her joy had echoed in his very soul. The sheer, utter beauty of their lovemaking had marked him in ways he was only beginning to understand.

Jamie stirred and rolled her head to one side. Her hair spilled across her face, and after a moment, Rich risked waking her by gently brushing it aside. His breathing was fast, much too fast considering the simplicity of the gesture.

He leaned forward, intending to kiss her. The way he was feeling, with need clawing at his insides, he knew if he followed through with his intention, the kiss would be too intense, too powerful. By an act of will, he stopped himself just in time.

He’d made love to her only hours before and already he was wondering how long it would be before he could do so again.

He had to think. Pull himself together. Make some sense of this nagging physical ache, this overwhelming need, before he woke Jamie and frightened her. Folding back the covers, he sat on the side of the bed, rubbing his face.

“Rich.”

The panic he heard in Jamie’s voice made him turn around.

“Don’t leave me,” she pleaded. “Not again.”

“I wasn’t going to.” He slipped back into the bed and gathered her in his arms. She felt so soft against him. Holding her, he wished he could stay like this forever.

“Don’t go,” she repeated, almost deliriously, clinging to him.

“I can’t.” Even if he’d wanted to, Rich could never have walked away from her. He was so much in love with her, so driven by need…and desire.

He kissed her, hoping to reassure her, but the kiss was everything he’d feared. And wanted. His mouth was hard and demanding, as his hands investigated her warm, perfect skin.

“Jamie…” He slid his mouth down the perfume-scented curve of her neck, down her shoulder to the peaked softness of her breast.

Jamie moaned softly and arched her back, encouraging him, plowing her fingers through his hair, thrashing beneath him.

He lifted his head and kissed her mouth. “I need you…again,” he whispered.

Their need for each other was as urgent as their kisses. A strangled cry slipped from her throat as she clutched at his back.

Rich jerked his mouth from hers. “I’m scaring you?” He was afraid he had, or worse, that he was hurting her.

“No…no, love me, just love me.”

“Yes. Oh, yes.”

Rich intended to do a lot more than simply fulfill their bodies’ hunger. But for now, his need was too great to take it slow. Or easy. Ruthless desire dictated his actions.

She lay there, eager and trusting, vulnerable to him. Her dark hair fanned about her shoulders. Her sweet face was flushed with excitement, her eyes wide and misty with an emotion too strong to voice. Her lips were parted and moist from his kisses, and her breath came in tiny gasps of encouragement.

“Jamie…love. My love.”

Rich couldn’t resist her a second longer. Not another second.

The alarm sounded while it was still dark. Jamie rolled onto her side and reached blindly for the clock radio, shutting off the irritating noise.

Rich moved toward her, cradling her, placing his arm around her middle. “Good morning,” he whispered. With familiarity, his hand cupped her breast. Although they’d spent much of the night making love, Jamie was astonished by her body’s ready response to his touch.

“Morning.” Jamie couldn’t help feeling a little shy after the tempestuous night they’d spent. Memories of their lovemaking filled her mind—the brazen way she’d led him into her bedroom, stripped for him, stripped him, sent a surge of color into her cheeks.

“How are you feeling this morning?” Rich asked, his mouth close to her ear. He caught her lobe between his teeth and sucked gently, shooting warm shivers down Jamie’s spine.

“I’m…fine.”

“Do you want me to bring you some crackers?”

Jamie hadn’t immediately realized he was asking about the baby, the pregnancy. “Not…yet.” She eased back the covers and cautiously righted herself. When she did suffer bouts of nausea, it was generally when she first sat up. With her legs dangling over the bed, she inhaled a deep breath and was relieved to discover she didn’t feel queasy at all.

“Do you want to shower first?” Rich asked from behind her, his hands at her waist.

“Please.” She had trouble looking at him. It was silly to be so nervous, she told herself. They were married, for heaven’s sake. Married. There was no reason to feel uncomfortable or ill at ease. Rich was her husband, and he had a perfect right to spend the night with her.

Jamie moved into her bathroom and turned on the shower, adjusting its temperature. It wasn’t until she was under the pulsing spray that she remembered.

The scene replayed itself, its effect as brutal as a slap across the face.

Rich had been about to leave her again, sneaking out in the middle of the night. If she hadn’t half wakened when she did, he would’ve walked out on her a second time. Once again he’d planned to leave her, to let her face the empty morning alone. Except that this time she’d pleaded with him to stay.

Jamie didn’t know how long she stood under the spray. Long enough to regulate her breathing and wait for the pain that rippled through her to subside.

When she finished, she forced a smile and walked nonchalantly back into the bedroom, a white towel around her. “Your turn,” she told him, not meeting his eyes.

Rich had made coffee and brought her a mug, as well as a small plate with four soda crackers. “Breakfast is served,” he said, bowing before her.

Jamie drank some of her coffee, careful to keep the towel securely in place with one hand. It was ludicrous to act modest after what they’d shared. The things they’d said. The things they’d done. Beautiful things…

Nevertheless she was.

Rich frowned, then left her. Although the bathroom door was shut, Jamie heard him singing at the top of his lungs over the sound of the shower. She took advantage of the brief privacy to get dressed, haphazardly choosing her outfit for the day.

She made the bed, folded Rich’s scattered clothes and laid them on top, then hurriedly moved into the kitchen. Generally she didn’t pack a lunch for work, but she did this morning, just to pass the time. If there was anything to be grateful for, it was that Rich hadn’t called her
darling.
He’d only done that in the presence of others, for the sake of the pretense they had to maintain in front of their parents.

She was putting together a sandwich when Rich joined her. He poured himself a second cup of coffee. Jamie concentrated on making her turkey sandwich and managed to avoid eye contact.

She turned around to get an apple from the refrigerator and stopped short of colliding with Rich. “Oh, sorry,” she mumbled under her breath, flattening herself against the counter so he could step past her.

“Would you like some breakfast?” she asked matter-of-factly, as though she often made the same inquiry of men who spent the night with her.

“Just coffee, thanks.”

Jamie sighed with relief. The intimacy of cooking a meal for him would’ve been a strain. She made a point of glancing at her watch. “I guess I’d better head out to the salt mines,” she said, striving to sound carefree and happy when all the while there was a lump in her throat that made it hard to speak.

“Me, too.” Rich’s voice was low and hesitant, as if he wasn’t quite sure what was happening, but whatever it was, he didn’t like it.

Jamie didn’t, either, but she didn’t know what to do about it.

She was halfway out of the kitchen when Rich stopped her.

“I’ll have to leave with you.”

“Why?” She was eager to escape, to be by herself, examine her thoughts and reactions, analyze their relationship.

His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I don’t have a key to lock up with.”

“Oh, right.” She opened the closet and pulled out her coat.

“If I’m going to move in with you, we should have an extra one made.”

“Move in with me…” She’d suggested it when they’d met with Rich’s family. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, and she’d been so eager to find a way to make her marriage work.

“I take it you’ve changed your mind?”

“No,” she said hastily. “I…just think we should reevaluate the situation before we do something we might regret later.”

“‘Regret later,’” Rich repeated slowly. “In other words, you regret having made the offer.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” He moved past her and out the front door, slamming it behind him. The sound reverberated like thunder, leaving Jamie alone to withstand the storm.

Rich had never met a more contrary woman in his life. It seemed that one minute she was leading him into her bedroom, and in the next she was behaving as though she couldn’t get away from him fast enough.

Rich wasn’t the one who’d announced to his family that they were moving in together. Nor had he invited himself into her home for dinner and then seduced her. It was the other way around. All right, she hadn’t exactly seduced him, but the lovemaking had been Jamie’s idea.

Then, in the light of day, she’d acted as if she’d never seen him before. As if she would’ve preferred that he disappear in the middle of the night.

Leaving before she woke was what had gotten him into trouble the
first
time they’d made love.

Rich was damned if he did and damned if he didn’t.

He didn’t understand it. He’d never been this confused by a woman.

Although Rich tried to work, by midafternoon he felt like calling it quits. Leaning back in his chair, he rubbed his tired eyes. Generally, when he had a problem he wanted to talk over with someone, he called Jason. The two of them had been each other’s support system for years.

This time, however, Rich decided to phone Paul instead. Paul had been married nearly five years; surely in all that time he’d gleaned
some
wisdom about women and marriage.

Rich stood and closed his office door before sitting back down and reaching for his phone. Paul worked for the largest of the two Seattle papers and was often out chasing down a story. But his brother answered the phone.

“Got a minute?”

“Sure,” Paul teased. “The only pressing thing I have is a three o’clock deadline.”

Since it was quarter to three, Rich figured he’d better talk fast. “Did Jason tell you about Jamie and me?”

“Not exactly,” Paul said, his amusement evident in his voice, “but I put two and two together. Jason confirmed my suspicions, although I have to admit I would never have guessed you’d agree to artificial insemination.”

“It didn’t work out that way.”

“That’s what Jason said.”

Rich could picture his brother in the middle of the newsroom, leaning back in his chair wearing that cocky know-it-all grin.

“What can I do for you?”

“Explain something to me.”

“If I can.”

“Women. And how they think.”

Paul responded with a low laugh. “You want me to explain a woman’s mind. I hope you’re kidding. No one, at least no man, will
ever
be able to understand the way a woman thinks. Trust me, I’ve got five years’ experience in this marriage business. If you don’t believe me, ask Dad. He’ll tell you the same thing. Take Diane. She wants another baby. Apparently she isn’t busy enough with Ryan and Ronnie. For weeks on end she’s talked about nothing else. She wants a little girl, she says. The twins run her ragged as it is. Besides, there’s no guarantee we’d have a girl. We actually had a big fight about it last week.”

“And?” Rich didn’t mean to pry, but he was curious to know how Paul and his wife settled their disagreements.

“Well, I stood my ground, if that’s what you mean. Not that it did much good,” he admitted reluctantly. “I absolutely refused to discuss having another child. I tried to appease her though, I don’t want to be dictatorial or unreasonable. I said we’d talk about it this time next year. That way the twins will be in kindergarten when the new baby’s born. Planning our family makes sense to me.”

“What did Diane say?”

“Nothing.” This was followed by a significant pause. “But I should mention that she threw out her birth-control pills.”

“Is she always this stubborn?”