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Her first instinct was to call him on it. And then she gave herself a shake. Blake’s thoughts were his own affair. And an affair between the two of them was exactly what they didn’t need.
“So those are your stipulations?” Her voice sounded loud, as if she’d blurted the words just to fill a silence.
“I have one more.”
Wrapping her arms around her chest, she waited.
“I want this child conceived in the normal fashion.”
The tendrils swirled through her stomach again—and lower. Bringing a physical warmth to places down there that hadn’t been fully active since the last time she’d made love with her first husband.
Now was the moment to tell him that they didn’t have a deal. As soon as he’d finished speaking….
“I’m okay with that,” she said instead. And almost melted onto the floor at the impact of that verbal commitment. She was going to make love with Blake Smith again.
An event that, every single time, had been the best, most complete, magical and deepest experience of her life. And, in retrospect, had nearly killed her.
“WHEN?” Sweat drenched the back of Blake’s shirt with the effort it took him to remain in the doorway of his ex-wife’s beautiful nursery.
She glanced down and then back up, but her gaze skittered away from his. “I don’t know.
” Kicking at a bit of fuzz on the carpet with her bare toe, she suddenly seemed less sure of herself. “As soon as possible, I guess.”“Tonight?”
That got her attention.
Might as well get it over with. And maybe she’d think the shaking in the hands he had tucked in his pockets was the result of pent-up passion.
If he got them on her, it probably would be.
“Oh, um, by as soon as possible, I meant this month as opposed to next,” she said, her skin reddening. “I, want to give this the best shot at working first time out, and with the help of my doctor I’ve been tracking my, uh, ovulation schedule.”
Schedules were all in a day’s work. Familiar. “Fine, just give me a date and time.”
“It’s kind of hard to know ahead of time,” Annie said, looking so cute with her mixture of maturity and self-conscious embarrassment that it almost hurt him to watch her. “It goes by temperature readings and a couple of other…”
“Do you take it in the morning or at night?”
If she didn’t need anything more from him at that moment, he had to get out of there. Seeing her like this, reliving things he’d tried so hard to put out of his mind, was taking a toll. He recognized the signs.
And he had to get home. He had to protect himself from the most debilitating effects of the post-traumatic stress syndrome that he might spend the rest of his life battling.
“In the morning.”
“Fine,” he said, backing out of the doorway before she could give him any more information than he was equipped to handle at present. “Give me a call when it’s time and I’ll clear my schedule for that evening.”
Catching sight of her slightly bemused, slightly confused expression in his peripheral vision, Blake hurried outside.
ON SATURDAY Becky came over to help with hanging the wallpaper. Most things Annie could do herself, but hanging gluey strips of border was a lot easier when she had someone to hold it for her while she climbed the ladder. And to feed the long sticky strips to her as she positioned them.
They were mounting pastel-colored balloons to match the rainbow mural she’d commissioned, and Becky was making certain that Annie had a perfect match for every strip.Afterward, they went into San Antonio to do some shopping. Shane had an all-day football practice, to prepare for a playoff game, and the day was too nice to waste.
As was the wine they’d purchased at a local winery on the way home. With a plate of Havarti, bread warm from the oven and apples and pears between them, they sat on big pillows on Annie’s living-room floor and toasted their day. Each other. The balmy weather.
And motherhood.
Annie faltered on that one. And Becky, bless her heart, noticed.
“So when are you going to tell me?” the younger woman asked in her quiet yet compelling way.
