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Then she called Tamara.
* * *
Having driven to San Diego on Saturday to retrieve his boat and dock her in her new home not far from the hotel where he was staying, Braden took Anna out on the water Sunday. She wasn’t into fishing—or sunbathing, either, for that matter. But she had a great time captaining the boat when he offered her the wheel, laughing when she hit a wake. Right behind her, his arms wrapping her as he taught her, he laughed, too.
And he told himself that this was living.
But later that afternoon, when they docked and she made it clear that she was open to them spending the rest of the day—and the night—together, he chose to get back to work. He had meetings in the morning—Braden Property Management business, not new build business—and needed to prepare.
Mallory was pregnant. It was right that he let Anna know before he had sex with her. Just in case she had a problem with it.
He didn’t expect she would. Didn’t see why she would.
Still, with Mallory’s news still so fresh, he was pretty certain the decent thing was to let Anna know.
He called Mal on the way back to his hotel, figuring he’d get her opinion on the matter. She was a woman. She’d probably know better than he how to present their situation to his potential girlfriend. She didn’t pick up.
Out baby shopping, he was sure. Ever since she’d told him she was expecting again, he was remembering how she’d been the first time, so he was certain he could predict her actions, even down to the stores she’d visit. It would take months. She’d think of nothing else outside of work.
At first, he’d been as bad as she was. The memory creeped in as he pulled into the underground parking garage and took the elevator up to his suite. He’d heard of an out-of-the-way spot that sold handmade nursery furniture and he’d called Mallory, convincing her to go with him to see if they could get the crib she wanted.
He’d been willing to play hooky but she’d made them wait until Saturday.
They’d painted the nursery together. He’d accidentally bumped into her with the roller. She’d given him such a saucy look he’d slid it up her shirt. And then dropped it. And his pants.
About as quickly as she’d dropped hers.
Lovemaking had always been like that with them. Spontaneous. Intense. All the time.
Until she’d started to pull back. He’d understood. It had been getting harder and harder for her to find a comfortable position just to sit or lie down. Having him in her space, on her space, hadn’t helped.
He’d told himself that after the baby was born things would return to normal.
Instead there’d been a new normal. Mallory had become a mother.
Being a wife didn’t seem to interest her anymore.
Until that last night.
Maybe he’d been too impatient and hadn’t given her enough time to adjust. It was the first time in her life she’d been aware of being with biological family. Of course that had to have had an effect on her.
She’d needed him to sit with her.
He’d needed her to have sex with him. Or even just sit with him.
To matter.
He couldn’t blame her for how she’d felt, how motherhood had completed her. None of what she had done had been wrong. She’d been a great mom. A working mom.
And it wasn’t like she hadn’t still talked to Braden, asked about his day.
It hadn’t just been the lack of sex, either, though.
When she’d looked at him, it had been like she wasn’t really seeing him. She was seeing whatever Tucker was doing, even if he was in his crib asleep.
And when he’d talked, at least one ear had always been listening to or for the baby. She’d carried that damned monitor everywhere.
He’d started to resent the thing. Which was why he’d pushed so hard to have her to himself for one night.
