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“I meant what I said earlier,” Jordan said. His arms came around her from behind. “It’s crazy for us to live apart when we’re husband and wife. I want you in my home and in my bed. I love you, Molly, and you love me.”
“I …don’t think it’s a good idea. Not yet.”
Jordan turned her around and kissed her, backing her against the refrigerator door.
“I …was going to cook dinner.”
“Later,” he said between kisses.
Molly was having trouble keeping a clear head. When she found the strength, she pulled her mouth from his. “You must be starved by now,” she gasped.
Jordan directed her lips back to his. “You haven’t got a clue how hungry I am.” He slipped his arms around her waist, or what remained of her waist, and started to slide them up.
She knew what he intended to do, and she was intent on letting him, when the baby kicked hard. Jordan obviously felt it, too.
He went still and then expelled his breath loudly. His head fell forward until he’d braced his forehead against her shoulder.
“Jeffrey used to do that, too, remember?” It was risky mentioning their son.
Jordan nodded. Moving away from her, he managed to offer her a shaky smile.
“What was that you were saying about dinner?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Dipping the crisp dill pickle into the butter-brickle ice cream, Molly swirled it around and brought the coated pickle to her mouth. After she sucked off the ice cream, she repeated the process. Pregnant women craving pickles and ice cream—it might be a cliché, but like most clichés it had some basis in truth.
Wearing her robe and black silk pajamas, she stood in the kitchen, depressed and miserable. She hadn’t heard from Jordan in three days. Three of the longest days of her life.
He’d helped her unload her car and stayed for dinner, but quickly made an excuse to leave immediately afterward. She hadn’t seen him since. Hadn’t received so much as a phone call.
Something had been bothering him from the moment he’d held her and felt the baby kick. He’d tried to hide his distress, but Molly knew. Until that evening, he’d ignored the fact that she was pregnant. He couldn’t do that anymore. Not with the evidence so…evident.
Molly patted her swollen abdomen. The time hadcome for Jordan to make his decision about her and the baby. Perhaps that was what had kept him away.
The countdown had started for them and their marriage. Jordan had to decide what he wanted. It was either love and accept this child or—God, please, no—go through with the divorce.
Glancing at the phone, Molly wavered as she thought about calling him herself. She didn’t want to lose Jordan, and she refused to give up without making one last effort.
Swallowing her pride was difficult, but too much was at stake to let her ego stand in the way. If she lost Jordan, she didn’t want to look back and wish she’d made one simple phone call.
Her hand tightened around the receiver as she punched in his number.
Jordan answered almost immediately as if he’d been sitting next to the phone, anticipating her call.
“Hello,” she said softly.
“Molly.” He seemed surprised to hear from her, but the inflection in his voice told her he was pleased.
“I hadn’t heard from you in a few days,” she said.
“I’ve been busy.”
“I thought that must be it.”
He hesitated as though he planned to say more, then changed his mind.
“How are you?” she asked when there didn’t seem anything else to say.
