Judy Duarte

Christmas Baby


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children laughing…

      Jillian hadn’t meant to stir up his sorrow when she’d asked about his son, and as a result, she felt somehow to blame for his sadness, for the tears he struggled to hold back. The only thing she could think to do was to thread her fingers through his, tightening their connection.

      Clearly, sitting by the playground, watching the happy children and families at play, was just making things worse.

      “Come on,” she said as she stood and drew him to his feet. “Let’s go back to the truck and get the cooler.”

      They returned to the picnic area in silence, joined together by more than their clasped hands.

      She kept the conversation light while they ate lunch, something she continued to do on the drive back to his apartment. Yet even though they’d managed to maintain upbeat subjects, her thoughts were lugged down by the heart-wrenching disclosure.

      Shane had said he hadn’t taken his son’s death very well. Had he fallen apart? Found it difficult to put one foot in front of the other and make it through the day?

      That’s the way Jillian had felt, after she’d first learned of Thomas’s affairs. But there was no comparison. Losing a baby would have been unspeakably worse.

      Once they were back at his place, Jillian went through the motions of making dinner. Then they’d topped off the tasty meal—baked chicken, rice pilaf and broccoli—with ice cream sundaes.

      On the outside, they’d both forgotten about Joey, about the grief and sadness. But she suspected it was something that would always be buried in Shane’s heart, ready to erupt at any time.

      After they washed the dishes, he asked, “How about a movie?”

      “Good idea.”

      Twenty minutes later, Jillian and Shane sat on the sofa, watching an action-adventure flick. Jillian had forgotten the name of it, since she didn’t normally like much violence. But this one wasn’t too bad.

      He’d asked her to choose the movie they were going to watch, and she felt that it was only fair to opt for something he might like—something that would get his mind off kids and families.

      For a moment, she’d wondered if Shane’s move from Houston to Brighton Valley had been some kind of escape for him, too.

      Maybe. But it didn’t explain him assaulting a suspect in his custody. Though, to be honest, she had yet to see any sign of temper or mean streak in him. Ever since she’d met him, he’d been nothing but sweet and thoughtful.

      She tried to focus on the television screen, where bullets continued to fly and ricochet off brick walls, where the good guy was surrounded by the bad guys. When she glanced at Shane, she saw that he had leaned forward, caught up in the tension created by a Hollywood gunfight. But Jillian just couldn’t lose herself in the story or the action.

      Finally, when things were headed for a showdown of one kind or another, she stood. “I’m going to take a shower, if you don’t mind.”

      “Now?” he asked. “You’ll miss the ending.”

      She smiled, not at all concerned about that. “I have a feeling it’s going to all work out just fine.”

      And, if luck was in their favor, real life would offer them that same guarantee.

      Thirty minutes later, Jillian returned to the living room, wearing a pale blue robe over a white cotton gown. Her hair was wrapped in a towel turban, and her feet were bare.

      Shane had been watching a baseball game on ESPN, but he reached for the remote, more interested in the beautiful woman standing before him, the woman who threatened to turn his life inside out. So he lowered the volume and gave her his full attention.

      “Are you going to bed now?” he asked.

      “I think so.” She bit down on her lip, lifted her hand and fingered the lapel of her robe, clearly nervous.

      Was she holding something back? Or trying to build up the courage to spit it out?

      Instead of pressing her by asking what was on her mind, he waited until she found the words.

      “I’m not sure when you plan to turn in tonight,” she finally said, “but you don’t need to sleep on the couch again. There’s plenty of room for you in the bed.”

      Shane again reached for the remote, this time shutting off the television completely. “Are you sure about that?”

      Her cheeks flushed, and a shy smile crept across her face. “I wasn’t talking about sex, but it certainly won’t hurt for us to sleep in the same bed.”

      Shane wouldn’t argue with her there, and while he’d be more than willing—in fact, more than eager—to have sex, he counted her concession as progress just the same.

      The way he saw it, sleeping together—even if there wasn’t any sex involved—meant they might be getting closer to working things out between them.

      Was she willing to consider having a relationship with him, after all? One that went beyond coparenting?

      “I realize that I was the one who wanted to take things slow and to get to know each other better before we consider dating.” She gave a little shrug. “But we took a big step toward intimacy and friendship today, so it seems silly to have you sleep on the couch, all cramped up.”

      By intimacy, was she talking about him spilling his guts at the park, getting all teary-eyed and laying open his broken heart for her to see?

      In the long run, revealing the details of Joey’s death had probably been cathartic for him, but it also had shown Jillian a weak and vulnerable side of him that he wasn’t proud of having. And one that might have scared off another woman.

      Still, he figured they were taking another step in the right direction.

      “You don’t have to come to bed now,” she said. “Your side will be waiting for you whenever you’re ready.”

      He’d rather hear that she’d be waiting for him, but there was no need to press for more at this point. They had twelve more nights together, which meant that there was still plenty of time for a sexual relationship to bloom.

      Their lovemaking had been too good for it not to.

      “I’m ready to turn in, too,” he said. “But I’m going to shower first.”

      Ten minutes later, Shane entered the bedroom wearing a pair of boxer shorts, even though he usually slept in the raw.

      Jillian, who smelled of shampoo, lotion and lilacs, was lying on her side, facing the wall.

      Was she asleep? Or only pretending to be?

      It was hard to know for sure, but either way, she was tempting as hell. Still, he’d always been able to hold firm when he wanted to, so he climbed into bed, careful not to bounce or jiggle the mattress.

      He lay still beside her for the longest time, tempted to reach out to her—with his words or his arms—and deciding not to do either.

      But, interestingly enough, when dawn broke over downtown Brighton Valley, bringing a faint light to the bedroom, Shane woke to find himself cuddling Jillian as if their bodies had minds of their own.

      They lay spooned together, her back pressing against his chest. One of his arms was under her head, the other lay over her waist.

      He’d awakened like this before—in her suite at the hotel. On that morning in early March, he’d slipped out of bed quietly. So now, given a second chance to sleep with her, he had an almost overwhelming urge to wake her with a kiss and a gentle yet eager caress.

      Just the thought of drawing her closer to him, pressing his growing erection against her bottom, brought a smile to his face.

      As he continued to hold her, relishing her lilac scent, she stretched in his arms, like a waking cat that