Nobody's Baby But Mine Part 20

She concealed her relief as she rose from the stool. "Okay. No messing around, but we can carouse until all hours of the night with no explanation and no apologies, right?"

She watched him mull that one over and wondered how he'd work around it. She wasn't entirely surprised when he didn't try. "I get to carouse. You don't."

"I see." She picked up her oatmeal bowl and carried it to the sink. She could feel him waiting for her to rip into him, and she knew him well enough to suspect he was relishing the challenge of defending a position he knew very well was indefensible. "Well, I suppose from your point of view that's only logical."

"It is?"

"Of course." She gave him a silky smile. "How else can you possibly convince the world you're still twenty-one?"

On Wednesday night she took her time dressing for the mysterious date she'd finally agreed to go on, despite her misgivings. She showered, powdered, and perfumed. Then she was ashamed of herself for placing so much importance on the occasion. But she'd had such a good day, it was hard to be annoyed with herself for long. Her work had gone well, and she was enjoying the fact that Cal seemed to be hanging around the house a lot more this week. Today he'd even made an excuse to accompany her on her walk, saying he was afraid she'd get so preoccupied solving some d.a.m.n formula that she'd get lost.

She didn't like admitting how much she enjoyed being around him. She'd never met anyone who made her laugh as he did, while his razor-sharp mind kept her on her toes. It was ironic that the intelligence that made him so attractive to her was also the source of her greatest concern.

She pushed the unhappy reminder of her baby's future aside and thought about the battered red Ford Escort that had been delivered a few hours ago and hidden away behind an old shed in the far corner of the estate. Buying a used car by telephone might defy conventional wisdom, but she was satisfied with her purchase. True, the car wasn't anything to look at with its dented door, broken front grill-work, and bad touch-up job, but it had fit comfortably into her budget, and all she needed was basic transportation to get her through the next few months until she returned to Chicago and the perfectly good Saturn waiting in her garage.

She also didn't intend to keep the car hidden, but she knew Cal was going to be furious, and she wanted to enjoy her evening before she broke the news to him that her imprisonment was at an end.

She smiled as she finished dressing. She'd followed his instructions about wearing jeans, but instead of the halter top, she'd chosen a mulberry silk blouse and a pair of semi-trashy gold hoop earrings that were more appropriate for one of Cal's baby dolls than a theoretical physicist. She couldn't figure out why she liked them so much.

She unb.u.t.toned the top b.u.t.ton of her silk blouse and watched it fall open to show the lacy top of her black bra. She studied herself, sighed, and reb.u.t.toned the blouse. For now, trashy earrings were as far as she was prepared to go.

Cal came out into the foyer as she descended the stairs. He wore an old Stars' T-shirt that outlined all of those beautifully developed chest muscles and was tucked into a pair of jeans so tight, faded, and threadbare he might as well have been naked.

His gaze traveled over her like a lazy stream on a hot summer day. She flushed, then stumbled on the step and had to grab for the rail.

"Something wrong?" he inquired innocently.

Jerk. He knew very well what was wrong. He was a walking, talking s.e.xual fantasy. "Sorry. I was contemplating Seiberg-Witten theory. Quite tricky." He knew very well what was wrong. He was a walking, talking s.e.xual fantasy. "Sorry. I was contemplating Seiberg-Witten theory. Quite tricky."

"I'll bet." His eyes swept over her in a way that made her feel her primping time hadn't been wasted. "Couldn't find a halter top, huh?"

"They were all in the wash."

He smiled, and as she watched that unexpected dimple pop into the hard plane beneath his cheekbone, she wondered what she was doing with a man like this? He was so far out of her league, he might have come from another solar system.

She realized she'd forgotten her jacket and turned on the stairs to go back and fetch it.

"Runnin' scared already?"

"I need a jacket."

"Wear this." He went to the closet and pulled out his gray zippered sweatshirt. She came down to meet him, and as he set it around her shoulders, his hands lingered there for a moment. She caught the heady scent of pine, soap, and something that was unmistakably Cal Bonner, an intoxicating hint of danger.

The soft folds of the shirt settled over her hips. She glanced down at it and wished she were one of those women who looked cute in men's clothes, but she suspected she merely looked pudgy. He didn't appear to find anything wrong with her, however, so she took heart.

He'd left the Jeep in the motor-court, and, as always, he opened the door for her. As he started the car and headed down the drive toward the highway, she realized she was nervous, and she wished he'd say something to break the tension, but he seemed content to drive.

They pa.s.sed through town, where the stores were closed for the night, along with the Petticoat Junction Cafe. Down one of the side streets, she saw a lighted building with a number of cars parked around it. She deduced that was the Mountaineer.

They reached the edge of town and drove around Heartache Mountain. Just as she'd decided he was taking her to Annie's, he slowed the Jeep and turned into a badly rutted gravel lane. The headlights picked out a ramshackle structure no bigger than a tollbooth sitting just beyond the heavy chain that stretched across the road.

"Where are we?"

"See for yourself." He stopped the car and pulled a flashlight from under the seat. After he'd lowered the window, he shone the beam outside.

She ducked her head and saw a starburst-shaped sign made up of broken lightbulbs, peeling purple paint, and the words, Pride of Carolina Pride of Carolina. "This is where you're taking me for our date?" is where you're taking me for our date?"

"You said you'd never gone on a drive-in date when you were a teenager. I'm making it up to you."

He grinned at her dumbfounded expression, flicked off the flashlight, and got out of the car to unfasten the chain that barred the road. When he returned, he drove forward, jarring her as the car hit the ruts.

"My first date with a multimillionaire," she grumbled, "and this is what I get."

"Don't hurt my feelings and tell me you've already seen the movie."

She smiled and grabbed the door handle to keep from banging against it. Despite her grumbling, she wasn't exactly displeased with the idea of being alone with him at this abandoned drive-in. It would benefit their baby, she told herself, if she and Cal got to know each other a little better.

The Jeep's headlights swept the deserted lot, which looked like an eerie science-fiction landscape with its concentric mounds of earth and row upon row of metal speaker poles. The car lurched as he headed toward the rear of the drive-in, and she grabbed the dashboard with one hand while she instinctively covered her abdomen with the other.

He glanced over. "Waking the little guy up?"

It was the first time he'd acknowledged her pregnancy with anything other than hostility. She felt as if a blossom had slowly unfurled inside her, and she smiled.

He turned into the back row. "He can go back to sleep in a minute. That is, if he's not too busy solving equations."

"You won't think it's so funny when she starts grouping her Cheerios in multiples of ten while the other kids are gumming away at them."

"I swear, you're the most worryin' woman I've ever met. You act like having a brain is the worst tragedy on earth. The boy'll be fine. Just look at me. Having a brain didn't bother me any."

"That's because you keep yours under lock and key."

"Well, lock yours up for a while so we can enjoy the d.a.m.n movie."

There was nothing much she could say to that, so she didn't try.

He moved to the center of the last row, just in front of a sagging chain-link fence, and pulled into one of the s.p.a.ces so that the front wheels were elevated by the dirt mound. He picked up the speaker, brought it into the car, hung it on top of the steering wheel, then closed the window to shut out the chilly night air. She refrained from mentioning that the speaker had no cord.

He turned off the headlights and the engine, plunging them into darkness relieved only by a sliver of quarter moon. She shifted her attention to the distant screen, which was bisected by a silvery shaft of moonlight. "We should have gotten here earlier so we could get better seats."

"The back row's the best."

"Why is that?"

"No little kids lookin' through the windows. I like my privacy when I'm makin' out."

She swallowed hard. "Did you bring me here to make out?"

"Pretty much."

"Oh."

"You got a problem with that?" The moon slipped beneath a bank of clouds, leaving them in darkness. He flicked on the overhead light, and she saw the corner of his mouth kick up, making him the very picture of a self-satisfied man. He twisted toward the backseat, reached down, and came up with a large bag of grocery-store pop-corn.

Her brain was flashing out warning signals at the exact speed of light, but she was in no mood to listen. She'd wanted to be courted, and he was doing that, even if he'd chosen a peculiar way to go about it. And no matter what he said, she didn't think he still hated her because he smiled too much when they were together.

He was also wily as a fox, she reminded herself, and he'd made no secret of the fact that he desired her. Since his moral code seemed to dictate fidelity, at least for the next few months, he either had to seduce her or go without. She wanted to believe he would be pursuing her even if they weren't caught in this impossible situation, but she couldn't quite make that leap of faith. Maybe she could strike a compromise.

"I don't have a problem with it as long as you understand that I won't go all the way on a first date."

He opened the bag and took out a handful of popcorn. "I respect you for that. 'Course, maybe we should discuss exactly how you're calculating when we had our first date. I seem to remember a surprise birthday-"

"Cal ..."

He tossed the popcorn into his mouth. "There's some beer and juice in a cooler in the backseat. See if you can reach over there and get it."

She turned around and saw a small Styrofoam cooler resting on the seat. She knelt and reached back for it, only to find herself being gently, but forcibly, upended. As she awkwardly scrambled to balance herself on the rear seat, she heard a chuckle that had a faintly diabolical sound to it.

"Good idea, sweetheart. I'll just come right back there with you."

Before she could react, he had let himself out the driver's door, opened the back, and settled down next to her.

"Jeez ..." She straightened her blouse. "Fathers must have locked up their daughters when they saw you coming."

"I didn't develop my best moves 'til I was in college."

"Why don't you just be quiet and watch the movie."

"Hand me one of those beers first."

She did as he asked, taking a can of apple juice for herself and refusing the popcorn. He sipped his beer; she sipped her juice. They both leaned their heads back against the seat in companionable silence, with the dome light glowing above them.

He stretched his arm across the seat behind her. "This movie's making me h.o.r.n.y."

Her heart gave a queer thump in her chest. "Which part? Where Maria sings about the hills being alive with the sound of music? Or is it that do re mi do re mi thing the kids are doing?" thing the kids are doing?"

A grin flicked across that hard mouth. "It's Maria, all right. You've just got to wonder what's underneath that ap.r.o.n she's wearing."

The discussion was definitely getting dangerous. She couldn't remember feeling more at sea and less in touch with herself. She decided to buy a little time with a change of subject. "What have you been doing with your time when you're not meeting with the local business leaders?"

At first she didn't think he'd answer, but he shrugged. "I work out at the Y, visit friends, take care of some business. Today I spent a couple of hours at Dad's office. He likes it when I hang around." He frowned.

"Something wrong?"

"Not really. I don't know. I guess the problems he and Mom are having are more serious than I thought." The crease in his forehead deepened. "He said she's gone to stay with Annie for a while. I thought he meant overnight, but it seems she's been there since the weekend, and today he told me she doesn't have any plans to come back."

"Oh, dear."

"I can't understand her doing something like this. It really has him upset." He drained his beer and glared at her. "I don't want to talk about it anymore, so would you mind keeping your questions to yourself."

He was the one who'd volunteered the information, but she didn't call him on it.

He jabbed his empty can toward the distant screen. "With all your chattering, I can't keep my mind on the movie, and Maria's singing one of my favorite songs. d.a.m.n, but that woman looks good naked."

"Maria does not sing naked in The Sound of Music The Sound of Music!"

"I've got perfect eyesight, and that woman is naked as the day she was born. You can even see her-"

"You're mistaken. The person who's naked is Baron von Trapp. And he is certainly one impressive figure of a man."

"You call that that impressive? That puny-" impressive? That puny-"

"I do."

"Man-oh-man, if you think that's impressive, I could sure make you one happy woman."

"Braggart." Had she gone completely crazy? She was deliberately baiting him.

"You, on the other hand, might have warts on your belly for all I know."

"I do not have warts on my belly."

"Says you." He took her apple juice from her hand, and tossed it, along with his beer can, into the cooler, which he picked up and put in the front seat. "Okay, you can show me now."

"Show you what?"

"I'm being serious here. If you've got warts, my boy's gonna end up with them, and if that's true, I need time to prepare myself."

"You are a certifiable lunatic."

"Just unzip your jeans a little bit there. Enough for me to get a peek."

"No!"

"Okay, then. I'll have to go by feel."

She slapped his hands away as he reached for the snap. "I told you I'd make out with you! I didn't say I'd let you give me a medical exam."

By the time she realized what she'd said, he was grinning as if he'd just won the lottery. "That's right, you did say you'd make out. Well, come on now, honey. Show me your stuff."

"I will not."

"Coward."

"I won't be baited."

"You're scared to make out with me." In one motion, he pulled off her bulky sweatshirt and tossed it on top of the discarded cooler. "Scared you won't be able to handle me. You are one big scaredy-cat."