Every time with Phoenix felt both new and yet familiar; comfortable, but unbearably exciting. It was special, because she was special.
Whether she knew it yet or not, he’d already accepted that he wanted her, now, tomorrow...and for the rest of his life.
*
Baxter didn’t know what to think when Ridley finally sidled up to him. She’d been hanging back a few yards, watching him while he not-so-patiently waited to make his escape. The two men before him had inexhaustible curiosity about diving, the park and the lake. Like many elders, they had stories and adventures to share, and apparently they wanted to share them all with him. He’d tried to concentrate on adequate replies, but it was getting late, well past his work hours, and he wanted Ridley.
As usual.
Now, as she approached, the two men lost their trains of thought, too busy staring at her to continue speaking.
She’d pulled on a cover-up but hadn’t closed it in the front, meaning her very sweet body was still easily seen by all.
True, every woman on the beach wore a suit...but every woman wasn’t Ridley.
When Ridley realized they were all three staring at her, she gave her patented “make a man drool” smile and said, “Excuse me, gentlemen, but I need to borrow Baxter if that’s okay?”
The old goats nearly fell over themselves assuring her it was fine.
She hooked her arm through his. “Inside?”
If she planned to seduce him in the scuba shop with dozens of people still hanging around, he’d...what? Count himself a lucky bastard? Probably.
“Sure.” Damn it, he was already getting semi-hard just thinking about it and even with the top half of his wet suit turned down, that wouldn’t do. He tried a deep breath, but despite the weeks they’d been together, she still did it for him. God, he had it bad.
Ridley could give him a look, or that killer smile, or hell, she could just be walking away from him—even after giving him hell—and he wanted her.
Instead of her effect wearing off, it seemed to amplify each day. What he’d thought would be a quick affair that burned out naturally was instead an attraction that flamed brighter and hotter than ever.
It’d be unsettling if he wasn’t having so much fun. Ridley was so damn honest he never had to guess about her motives. Even when she tried to make him jealous, she let him know what she was doing.
Better still, he trusted her. The games were fun because he knew, deep down in his...fuck, his heart? Yeah, his heart knew she wasn’t a cheater. If she lost interest, she’d tell him so to his face. No confusion. No guessing.
There was something very reassuring, very addictive, about knowing her so well and trusting her so completely. Ridley told him what she wanted, when she wanted it, how she wanted it. She also listened when he did the same, and then she took wicked pleasure in giving it to him.
Huh. Was he falling in love with her?
Baxter stopped so suddenly that Ridley ran into him with an “Ompf.”
He turned to stare at her, boggled by the notion that he wanted a lifetime with her.
“Hey.” Scowling, she bumped him with her hip. “Why’d you put on the brakes like that?”
All he could do was shake his head. Seeing that particular disgruntled frown on her face—even that made him hard.
Put a fork in me, I’m done.
Hands on her hips, she snapped, “What’s going on, Baxter? Why are you looking at me like I’m naked?”
Slowly, the grin spread. “That’s how I usually see you, now that I know what’s underneath the clothes. Not that you’re wearing anything even close to resembling clothes today.”
“Oh? Do you like it?” Smirking, she struck a pose, breasts out, hand on the dip of her waist, leg turned just so. Then suddenly her scowl was back. “Don’t get too used to it. Things are about to change.”
He stiffened from head to toe. “What the hell does that mean?” If she planned to end things when he’d just realized he wanted forever, he’d... Well, he didn’t know yet, but he wasn’t about to let her call it quits.
Exasperated, she put both hands on her hips. “I’ll explain if you’ll get a move on. Or would you rather we stay here drawing attention?”
True, people were starting to stare. He glanced at the scuba shop, but he’d rather not make it too easy on her, so instead he led her over to a vacated picnic table. It was far enough away that no one could overhear if she thought to dump him.
Somehow he’d change her mind—even if he had to carry her off to bed.
That was where he was most convincing anyway.
*
Ridley waited until Baxter stopped at the table. Wearing a black scowl that, okay, she had to admit was a bit intimidating, he gestured for her to sit.
She paced instead.
Baxter gave her a look, then sprawled onto the bench seat, arms crossed over his bare chest, legs parted.
At least he wore his reflective sunglasses. Somehow, not seeing his eyes made it less nerve-racking to say, “I’m pregnant.”
Other than his jaw going slack, he turned to stone.
Damn. She hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that. Now that she had, anxiety dampened her palms and made her heart hammer.
When Baxter didn’t say anything, she leaned in and snarled right into his handsome face, “Pregnant. Knocked up. Bun in the oven.” To punctuate all that, she added with a sneer, “Dad.”
He came to his feet so swiftly, she didn’t realize he was moving until suddenly he towered over her.
His lips moved, twice, before he choked out, “How?”
He sounded more stunned than angry. Ridley could feel heat pulsing in her face, feel the prickling of the skin on the back of her neck. This won’t do. She wouldn’t let herself be this nervous.
Now that he was on his feet, she sat, legs crossed, arms spread out on the table behind her. “I didn’t figure you for the type who’d need an anatomy lesson.”
Chest heaving, he faced her and warned, “Ridley...”
“Fine.” She was too stressed herself to drag it out. “I’ve been thinking about it. I mean, we’ve been careful, right? Even though I didn’t think I could get pregnant, there are other things to worry about. Not that I was still worrying about them with you, but my middle name is ‘responsible,’ so—”
“Wait.” He twirled a finger in the air. “Rewind that.”
She lifted her brows. “Which part?”
“You didn’t think you could get pregnant?”
Oh, yeah, she’d never really explained that, had she? Shrugging, she said, “That’s why Robbie divorced me. He and his parents wanted an heir, but it wasn’t happening. Not even after three years of boinking without protection. I was willing to try some medical routes, but he refused.” She scowled, thinking. “Maybe the dick knew he was the problem, not me. Could be why he didn’t want a reproductive professional’s input. I mean, he lives off the largesse of his haughty—”
“Ridley,” he said again, and she noticed that his hands were clenching and unclenching into fists.
Fascinating. “So anyway, he wanted out so he could find some other, more fertile lady to give him a brood of kids. He and his parents were happy to pay me off to make the divorce easy. I was...hurt. I mean, not that I was actively wanting kids back then...or really, even since then. But eventually I figured I would.”
“Ridley,” he said again, his voice even softer.
She sighed. “So anyway, it hurt me to be told I was defective, to be discarded because of it, to learn that Robbie never really loved me.” Defensively, she added, “When I hurt, I get even.”
He stood over her. “Good for you.”
Crazy how much his understanding meant to her.
“So,” he said, “Robbie was an asshole who didn’t want the truth exposed. How come you didn’t get medical confirmation?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t know I wanted kids, so why bother? I was all butt-hurt about his defection, invested in my revenge, then things happened with Phoenix and...”