parting her mouth, tangling her arms around him and leaning into his warmth. He stroked his tongue against hers, drew back and sucked lightly at her bottom lip. A moan rippled through her. Her already unsteady legs threatened to give out from under her.
She would have liked to think self-discipline gave her the strength to pull away, but actually it was the realization that she could easily lose her balance. The two of them toppling over and cracking their skulls on Winnie’s bathtub was not how she wanted to commemorate the moment.
“W-wait.” She angled her head away, her voice breathless. “Wait.”
“Right,” he said sharply. His arms still around her, he maneuvered them into the hallway and began kissing her again.
Oh, she’d missed this. Missed feeling desire, missed feeling desirable. She thrust her tongue into his mouth, bunching his shirt in her hands. It wasn’t easy to move, pressed as she was between his hard body and the wall at her back, but she didn’t mind. The way their bodies slid together merely fueled her longing. When David’s hand slipped down the curve of her neck to the slope of her breast, she arched into his palm. But as he began to push aside the fabric of her shirt, reality clanged a warning bell in her head.
What the hell am I doing? She wasn’t sure, but it felt great. Not the point!
“David? Mmm … David, I—” She tilted her head back, closing her eyes as he kissed the exposed line of her throat. “David!”
He straightened, his expression dazed. Under other circumstances, she would have smiled at that. “Guess we shouldn’t be doing this at Winnie’s house?”
Men truly were from another planet. “We shouldn’t be doing this at all!” While he was still motionless, she took the opportunity to duck under his arm and scamper away. They needed distance.
“Rachel, you can’t mean it.” His normal composure was already falling back into place. “You wanted me as much as I want you.”
Well, she couldn’t argue that. “It’s true I was caught up in the moment, but temporary insanity aside, it would be a mistake for us to …” Have wild, passionate sex, the kind that had been the hallmark of their honeymoon? “… do anything physical. We’re separated.” Even as she said the word, a pang of loss assailed her.
“We were separated.” He held his hands palms up, gesturing toward her abdomen. “This changes everything.”
His presumption would have been annoying if she hadn’t been kissing him fervently ten seconds ago. She could see where that was a mixed signal. “My being pregnant complicates things,” she said gently, “but it doesn’t necessarily change anything.”
In the last year, angry at her infertile body and feeling she’d settled into a dead-end job, her self-esteem had taken a bit of a beating, something she was determined to correct. But what would it do to her pride to walk back to a man who’d seemed content to let her go just because she was having his child? While she understood the theory of staying together for kids, parenthood brought with it plenty of stress. You didn’t try to build houses on cracked foundations.
“The hell it doesn’t change things.” He looked more bewildered than angry. “Rach, you’re having my baby! I know you were upset because you couldn’t get pregnant, but …”
Upset hardly seemed adequate for what she’d endured emotionally and physically.
“That wasn’t the only problem,” she reminded him quietly. “And … I hope I’m having a baby. We both know that just because you conceive—” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the horrible thought.
“Oh, babe. Stop. Don’t even let yourself go there. C’mere.” He cradled her head against his chest. “Let me be there for you. You shouldn’t go through this all alone. You don’t want the tribulations of being a single mother.”
Not I love you, Rach, I miss you, only You can’t do this by yourself, you need me. She straightened. “I’m glad you were here, David. I really am, but it’s time you leave.”
“You’re mad.” He studied her with a blend of puzzlement and martyrlike patience. She didn’t know which aggravated her more. “You left, but I’m here trying to help and somehow you’re angry with me? Maybe it’s hormones making you emotional, but—”
“It’s not the hormones,” she interrupted before he angered her any further. At least, she amended silently, it wasn’t just the hormones. Part of it was repression. When she was upset or angry, he tried to tell her why she was wrong. When she was scared or worried, instead of hearing out her concerns, he told her not to entertain negative thoughts. Over time, she’d built up a volcano’s worth of emotions that had blown shortly after Thanksgiving. “Please go. We have Lilah’s shower this afternoon, and I have a lot to sort through before then.”
“I’ll help,” he said promptly.
“You’re doing it again.” She tried to keep the exasperation out of her voice, but wasn’t entirely successful. “You think you’re listening to me, but you’re not hearing me. The best help you can give me right now is to leave me alone. Why do you always somehow think you know what I need better than I do?”
“That’s not fair.” He drew back, indignant. “When I met you, you were trying to figure out what you needed. You were overworked, overstressed, looking for a life change. I was there for you.”
“Yes, you were.” Which was how she’d ended up walking away from the career and home she’d been building and straight into Mistletoe, where his life had been mapped out since birth. “David, I will always be grateful to you for helping me through a bad time, but the situation’s changed. I’ve changed. I’m not looking for someone to rescue me.”
He said nothing, but the muscle tic in his jaw suggested that he wasn’t mollified by her words.
She took deep breaths. Whatever else was between them, she’d loved this man with all her heart—still loved him, on some level. And the possibility of this baby was a miracle. Having his child would bind her to David forever, even if their marriage vows failed to do so. The last thing she wanted was a future of bitter enmity between them.
“It’s okay,” she relented. “You had good intentions. And maybe you’re right about the hormones exaggerating everything I’m feeling right now. I don’t want to fight.”
“Me, either.” He ducked his head guiltily. “That can’t be good for the baby. Dr. McDermott would kick my butt. You’ll let me go with you, won’t you? To the doctor’s?”
“Of course. I want you to have an equal part in this.” That’s what she’d always wanted—equal partnership—though he’d always been affronted when she tried to explain.
“All right. Then I’ll go so that you can get some rest before the shower.” He smoothed her hair. “But I’m just down the street if you need anything or have any cravings or—”
“David.” She shook her head. “I’ll be fine. But if I need anything, I know how to find you.”
After he left, she leaned against the front door and pressed a finger to her still-tingling lips. Kissing him had been amazing. She couldn’t help imagining, just for a second, what it would have been like to allow herself the indulgence of being swept away, of making love to him again. And then what? She’d meant what she said; the infertility issues had no doubt exacerbated their problems, exposing the fault lines of their marriage, but they hadn’t been why she left.
It was true that she’d never planned to be a single mom, but nor did she plan to slap this pregnancy over their marriage like a Band-Aid. David had barely protested when she’d told him the marriage was over. She knew her husband. If he’d wanted to fight for her, nothing on earth would have stopped him. Fighting for the baby, while understandable, was not the same thing. Marriage wasn’t a cracked Christmas