THIRTEEN
“You what?” Jeff’s chin pulled back, his brows crashing down. “Are you telling me—all night? Has this been going on, all night, with the— Damn it, Darcy, this is serious. What the hell am I going to have to do to get you to take it easy, tie you to the bed?”
Her lips parted, but before the words she’d had ready mere seconds before could get out, her mind short-circuited and her eyes locked with his.
He raked a hand through the dark shock of his hair, and took a step back. “The chair.”
Then he took another step back and swore under his breath. “I’m not going to tie you up at all. But—”
This so wasn’t getting any better.
“Jeff. I lied about being worn-out and light-headed. I—I—” She took a deep breath and let the truth spill out in one huge gush. “You were standing so close—and this supersensitive smell thing that’s part of the pregnancy, kind of got the better of me for one minute before I realized what I was doing, and then I tried to back up, but I tripped, and you asked if I was okay, and I thought it would be better to avoid any misunderstandings about me wanting to smell you if I just lied and blamed the baby, which sounds really terrible when I say it, but now that I’m thinking about it, is pretty much the truth. Your baby is making me crazy. There.”
She sucked a great lungful of air and then covered her cheeks with her hands, knowing they had to be burning crimson.
Jeff’s jaw cocked to one side, his eyes focused down around his shoes. “So...you were...smelling me.”
She crossed her arms and stared at the ceiling. “You smell...really good. It was like with the cake.”
His head snapped up. “Like the cake? I mean, what you did to that cake.”
And there were about a million wrong ways he could interpret what she’d just said, and based on the rapidly morphing expressions crossing his face, he was hitting on each one of them.
“I don’t mean you smell like a cake. And I wasn’t saying...you made me—”
Something dark flashed in his eyes as he looked down at her mouth. “Hungry?”
She nodded, thinking the way the night was playing out, they were going to need a couple of neck braces. “Right. No. I mean, no, you didn’t make me hungry. I just don’t want you to think—”
“I don’t. And I’m not thinking about tying you to the bed, either.” Then he ran a wide hand over his mouth, and the eyes that met hers were filled with some twisted combination of apology, amusement and heat.
She gasped.
“Okay, okay,” he answered with a distinctly unapologetic laugh. “I am thinking about it a little. Now. But normally I don’t.” He closed his eyes and held up a hand. “Not the tying up part at least. Sometimes I think about the rest. I mean, we did it. And it was good. But it doesn’t mean I’m interested in an act two. It’s just a guy thing.”
Okay. She’d take him at his word. “So we’ll forget this then,” she offered, not meeting his eyes as she thrust out her hand.
“Deal,” he said with a firm shake before turning to go without a backward glance. “Now, lock the door and go to bed.”
* * *
So the forgetting thing hadn’t worked out. Which meant Jeff really should have stayed away from her. But that wasn’t happening, either.
Rolling past security with a wave, Jeff pulled up the winding drive and parked around the side of the house.
Initially he’d thought he wanted the distance between them. He’d thought keeping Darcy at arm’s length while knowing she was being looked after would be enough for him. More than enough.
But after the other night...hell. He’d been back three times in the two weeks since.
The first, because he wanted to make sure everything was still cool between them. The second, because everything was cool. And talking with Darcy was so damned easy. And the third...yeah, that’s where his moral compass began to spin like maybe he’d landed himself in the Bermuda Triangle. The third time, like tonight he’d gone back to have Darcy to himself.
In a strictly platonic, or at least nonphysical way.
He might not be able to control his thoughts hopping the express train to Dirty Town when Darcy did certain things. Like laugh or eat cake or succumb to one of those mysterious blushes he figured it was better not to ask about. But physically, well, he’d kept his hands to himself.
With a child between them, they couldn’t afford to risk souring their relationship because of some affair gone bad. Not when they needed to maintain positive relations...well, for as long as they both shall live. Forget the sanctity of marriage. They had to peaceably share a child. They were in it for the long haul. And really, if he looked past the whole out-of-wedlock, non-girlfriend part of the pregnancy, he was pretty damned lucky to have Darcy be the mother of his child. She made him laugh. Got what he was saying. Connected with him in a way that made him believe they could really make this thing—this parenting thing—work.
He liked her.
A lot.
Which was why he was driving out again tonight after spending the entire day and the majority of last night telling himself he wouldn’t—reminding himself not to think about the way Darcy’s hair sometimes spilled over one shoulder, leaving the bare length of her neck exposed on the other side. Or the soft curve of her mouth when she’d just finished laughing. Yeah, he’d figured some distance wouldn’t be the worst thing. Tried to talk himself into a solid week before he saw her again. But after barely four days he’d gotten in his car and driven out anyway.
Throwing the car in Park, he checked his phone for whatever messages had come through between leaving his office and pulling in the drive, wanting them out of the way before he was with Darcy.
Not with with her. Though, sure enough, now that he’d made the mental jump—
He blew out a harsh breath.
It would be fine. So long as Darcy did her part to keep it wholesome...well, he’d be good for his.
* * *
Half a dozen hangers clattered together as they hit the bed, their high-end couture spilling across the duvet in a spectrum of linens, crisp cottons and stunning raw silks.
“Gail, please, I can’t borrow your clothes.”
The older woman turned a cool smile on her. “If you’d let me take you shopping like I wanted, you wouldn’t need to. But now we’re being picked up in less than an hour, and you need a dress for dinner.”
Dinner with Grant Mitchel. The doctor Jeff had gone to school with and then bullied into checking on her a couple times a week.
When Gail had sprung the plans on her earlier that afternoon, Darcy had tried to put her off with the usual excuses. Only tonight Gail was having none of it. She’d looked her straight in the eye, smiling a sort of frightening smile and said, “You’re going.”
She’d seriously considered faking sick again to get out of it, because as nice a guy as Grant was, she knew the score. Gail was doing what she’d basically promised to do from the start— Trying to find her a nice husband. But after the way her last fib had blown up in her face she wasn’t about to lie again.
“With you barely beginning to show and the loose cut of the pieces I’ve pulled out, all of these will fit. And if you want my opinion the burnt-orange would be fabulous on you.”
Darcy opened her mouth to voice another protest—but Gail cut her off with a look that brooked no argument and a hanger against her chest.
Five minutes later, an airy sheath the color of a setting sun was skimming over her hips and belly in a silky caress. It was gorgeous, light and flattered her exactly the way Gail had promised it would. And more than anything she wanted to take it off, hand it back with whatever apology or excuse it would take to get out of a dinner the mere thought of was making her stomach roil with nerves.
From beyond the bathroom door, Darcy could hear the rise and fall of Gail’s animated voice, but not exactly what was being said. A second, deeper voice sounded, and she stilled as her heart skipped a beat.
Jeff.
She swung the door wide.
“Why the hell wouldn’t I join you?” Jeff demanded as his mother scoffed at him.
“Don’t be dense, honey. If Grant wanted to catch up with you, he’d have set up some rock climbing retreat.” She cocked her head. “He’s the climber isn’t he? Keeping all you boys straight can—”
“Yes, he’s the climber. But you can’t seriously be suggesting this is a date? Now? He’s her doctor and she’s preg—” His words cut off when, pointing in Darcy’s direction, Jeff caught sight of her, stopped talking and straightened, his eyes going dark as he stared at her.
“Hello, Jeff,” she offered lamely, not quite knowing what to make of the interaction she’d walked into. Particularly as she was the subject...and yet not really a participant.
Jeff cleared his throat and wiped his expression clear.
“Beautiful, Darcy,” he said, offering a polite smile that didn’t reach his eyes. His hands went into his pockets, and she could swear she saw them ball into fists beneath. “Looking forward to tonight?”
There was any number of different ways she could answer. Most of them began with the word no. But out of respect for Gail and Grant as well, she was having difficulty voicing even one of them.
Gail began to collect the rest of the outfits she’d brought for Darcy to try. “Of course she is. Grant is a lovely man, and I know how appreciative we all are for the way he’s given up so much of his time to personally check on her.”
Ugh. The guilt trip. Even seeing it for what it was, her resistance crumbled. She had to go.
Schooling her features the way she’d done at the bar, she offered a nod.
Jeff stared at her a moment, a question forming in his eyes before his brows pushed high and he turned to his mother. “Oh, no way are you making her go out with him.”
Darcy opened her mouth to defend Gail—but in a blink Jeff and Gail were going head-to-head.
“Making her? Please—”
“This is about that whole Mrs. Someone-suitable business—”
“She’s a gorgeous, vivacious, available woman—”
“—can’t even wait until after the baby—”
“—any man would be lucky to have—”
“I know that!”
“And you’ve made it clear you aren’t—”
“She’s not interested—at least not tonight. So she’s not going. Period.”
The truth was, she was too beat to care that they were arguing over her life like she wasn’t there. Which really made Jeff’s next move—pulling out his phone and calling Grant himself—probably for the best.
“Sorry, man, she’s exhausted...no, I don’t think a quick exam is necessary. Just some rest... Right. Mmm-hmm... No, you and Mom should go and have a great time.... I insist. I’ll make sure Darcy gets whatever she needs.” He shot her a wink and mouthed the words cake and pizza and something inside of her gave an almost painful twist.
Gail let out an infuriated growl and stalked out of the room, leaving Darcy and Jeff alone.
“I think I love you.” She sighed, using the words in a careless joking way to underscore their throwaway quality, so there was no misunderstanding what had to be a look of utter adoration on her face. Hero worship for the man who’d just rescued her night.
Jeff flashed her his crooked smile, tucking the phone away.
“First a baby, now you love me.” Nodding toward the door, he set his hand lightly at the small of her back in that gentlemanly way he had about him. “So if I’m reading this right, this is my window to propose?”
“I don’t know, Jeff. What kind of pizza are we talking? And I want to hear more about this cake.”
He leaned in close, so his voice was a low rumble just above her ear, so seductive she almost missed what he actually said. “I’ve got a yellow box mix in the car.”