Whose Baby Part 22

In comparison, what she'd felt for Brian had been ... a crush. A girlish stage that would have pa.s.sed if they hadn't rushed into marriage. If only she hadn't been so inexperienced, so socially inept, she would have known whether her feelings for him were special or not.

Was she fooling herself again, just because ... well, because she so enjoyed making love with Adam? Lynn stole a sidelong glance at the man striding beside her, looking astonishingly carefree for the b.u.t.toned-down, austere stockbroker he was. She had fallen in love awfully fast, hadn't she?

But in her heart she knew better. She had begun the tumble a long time ago. That day in the hospital, probably, when she'd seen how much he adored his Rosebud. When she realized he felt all the same conflicts she did. Every kindness he'd given her since, every smile at the girls, every willing boost onto a kitchen chair, every game played, every grave answer to a silly question, had polished the slide down which she rocketed. How could she help it? Despite his doubts, Adam was a wonderful father. Beneath his usual rigid courtesy and occasional bluntness, he was a marshmallow. Nothing was too good for Sh.e.l.ly and Rose. Or her, now that he felt an obligation to her. He was chivalrous, s.e.xy and determined to do the right thing.

What's not to love?sheasked herself frivolously.

Her feelings were anything but. She knew how lucky she was. Adam would be a good husband if it killed him. His moral standards wouldn't let him look at another woman, even if he didn't love his wife. But it wasn't just that. They could be happy together; these past two weeks demonstrated that. She was sure he was contented, at least.

All she had to do was keep her mouth shut. He must never, never know that this marriage was no longer one of convenience and friendship for her. He'd only feel uncomfortable, perhaps even obliged to make up some pretty lies to reciprocate. She couldn't bear that.

Be grateful for what you have, Lynn told herself. Why spoil it by wishing for more? If Adam came to love her in return, well, it would happen. Perhaps slowly, but heartfelt emotions couldn't be forced, shouldn't be pretended. She would never want that.

She had lived her entire life appreciating what she had and not hoping for too much. She could go on that way.

What she wasn't sure she could do was bear the regular separation from Adam. Although she hadn't yet said aloud,I will sell thebookstore, the idea had taken root and was settling in. Owning her own bookstore had been a lifelong dream, and she loved every moment of it. Working for someone else, even in a wonderful store like Powell's in Portland, would never bring her the same joy.

And oh, how she'd miss Otter Beach! The sound of the surf and the bark of sea lions out on the stack, the tangy air, the fresh breeze and the fog that rolled in off the ocean on hot days.How shall I list the ways!she thought. The crunch and slide of walking on the gravelly beach and the shoot of spray through the blowhole. The vendors along the boardwalk, the tourists and even the traffic on the brick streets. To her mental list she hastened to add hergarden, and her new refrigerator and her rickety back steps she would decorate with potted geraniums come summer.

This was home, the first and only home she'd ever made for herself. But today was ... she mentally ticked off days on her fingers ... the tenth of February. Always, by the middle of April, she had gone back to her summer schedule, having the store open Tuesday through Sunday. Just over two months away.

That would mean two more days a week when she had to be here, and Adam had to be in Portland. Could she afford to hire someone to cover at least one day? Would she and Adam split the girls up? Or alternate who got to keep them? After only two weeks, she'd become accustomed to sleeping with him: to being able to tuck her cold feet beneath his calf, to the sound of him breathing beside her at night, to that exhilarating, s.e.xy glint in his eyes when he wanted her.

Before Adam and Rose, she had loved her life here. Sh.e.l.ly and the bookstore were enough. Now they weren't. It was that simple.

Soon, she told herself, she had to start looking for a buyer.

Lynn wasn't quite sure why she hadn't told Adam about her plans. Some residual caution held her back. Be sure , her fearful inner self whispered.

But she was sure. Not that be would ever love her, but that she did love him. And both her daughters. She was spread too thin. She had a family now, a real family, and they had to come first.

She would definitely look for a buyer. But when Adam wrapped an arm around her and steered her away from the breaking surf and toward the stairs that led up to the boardwalk and the town, she didn't say, "Adam, I have something to tell you."

He was the one to speak instead, calling to the girls," Come on, munchkins. We need to get you cleaned up, so we can head out for Portland. Daddy's got to go to work tomorrow."

As usual, they had to take two cars, one of the drawbacks of their commuter marriage. Today, the girls rode with him. She followed his Lexus all the way to Portland. When he got too far ahead, he slowed; when she missed a light, he waited on the shoulder of the road. She pulled into his driveway right behind him and helped him unbuckle the girls from their car seats and carry them, both sound asleep, into the house that was now her home, too.

Although the subject had been on her mind, she still didn't tell him while they put together a quick dinner and ate it, or even later when, without a second thought, she pa.s.sed the spare bedroom that had once been hers and joined Adam in his spare, masculine bedroom dominated by a king-size bed.

In the master bathroom, she brushed her teeth at her own sink this bathroom alone was bigger than her kitchen above the bookstore and slipped on her nightgown. She came out to find Adam waiting, wearing only pajama bottoms that hung low on his hips. He drew her into his arms for a tender kiss that quickly became more intense.

"You won't need this," he murmured against her cheek, as his fingers gathered her nightgown at each hip preparatory to shimmying it over her head.

Purring like a contented cat, she hooked her thumbs inside the waistband of his pajamas. "Mmm. You won't need these, either."

He sucked on her earlobe, an oddly delicious sensation. "When the girls are grown-" he nipped instead, his low voice husky "-we'll sleep naked. Let's make a pact."

A thrill swelled in her chest, out of proportion to his idle words. He must be happy with her, or he wouldn't be thinking about such a distant future. Would he? Was it possible that he was starting to feel something special, too?

Lynncouldn't have spoken to save her life. She only sighed and let her head fall back as his mouth moved softly along her throat, pausing to trace her collarbone, before continuing down to her breast.

Why couldn't he love her?she asked a nameless somebody, in hope and defiance. Was it so impossible? Was she unlovable?

Pleasure shivered through her as he suckled her breast, stroked her hips with his large hands, cupped her bottom and lifted her up so that she cradled his erection and had to wrap her legs around his waist.

"I want you," he growled, that hot light in his eyes.

Foolish words trembled on her tongue, but she swallowed them. She could not tell him. She couldn't ruin everything.

"I'm all yours," she whispered instead, and hoped he didn't know how completely that was true.

Almost the best part of being married was having somebody to talk to.Lynnloved the evenings, after the girls had gone to bed. She and Adam invariably cleaned the kitchen together and then took herbal tea or coffee to the living room, where they read some of the time in companionable silence, but most often talked. "Of shoes and ships and sealing wax Of cabbages and kings," to quote Lewis Carroll.

Not so far off, either. She and Adam hadn't yet discussed sealing wax, but she thought they'd covered cabbages she detested them, he loved even such horrors as corned beef and cabbage and kings, in the form of royal weddings. They had taken the girls shoe shopping one day, and gone to a park overlooking theColumbia Riverwhere they could see huge freighters unloading cargo from foreign climes.

She had missed such conversation dreadfully. Lynn and her mother had been good friends. Until Adam, Lynnhad never been able to talk to anyone the way she could to her mother. In college, she'd had friends and roommates, of course, but all of them were so busy with finals and labs and boyfriends, and really everyone at that age was so self-centered, she realized now, that n.o.body listened very well. Probably including her.

Brian was a natural storyteller, but the stories were all abouthimself . His prowess as a high school and college sports star, his adventures mountain climbing and skiing, his starring role in campus theater productions. She had been fascinated and awestruck and grateful that he wanted to be with her, but after the first year she began to notice that he wasn't very interested inher dreams or successes, and he'd cut off her attempts to discuss politics or philosophy or a book she had read by reaching for the remote control or grabbing his jacket and saying casually over his shoulder, "I promised Cranston I'd whip his b.u.t.t at one-on-one. You were just going to read or something anyway, weren't you?" He always said it that way:just . You're going to do something unimportant, dull.

Adam enjoyed reading as much as she did.Lynnwas flattered when she discovered him reading a book she'd mentioned loving. Since then, he had read several based on her recommendations. He didn't always feel about them the same way she did, which she didn't mind. They'd had some rousing arguments.

The television was rarely on here, she'd discovered. The girls watched a couple of favorite shows and, naturally, Rose had a huge collection of videos mostly bought by Grandma McCloskey, but Adam limited how much Rose could watch a day, as Lynn had always done with Sh.e.l.ly. He religiously watched the news, primarily because world events had such a bearing on the next day's stock market. A revolution in some tiny country half a world away would impact theU.S.economy because a raw material for manufacturing came from there. She was impressed by Adam's instant grasp of the import of such news. Obscure political events took on meaning for her, too. She found that she read the newspapers and watched the television news with more interest now.

Only occasionally did she b.u.mp against a closed gate beyond which she wasn't welcome. A very few topics brought stinging reminders that their closeness was illusion.

Tonight, for example,Lynncurled her legs under her at one end of the sofa and said, "I forgot to tell you that your mother called today."

Adam laid down his book willingly. "What did she want?"

"Nothing special. I think she just wanted to chat."Lynnfrowned, trying to remember. "She didn't leave a message."

"What did you 'chat' about?" He looked unwillingly fascinated. "I didn't know my mother knew how."

"Oh, she has an opening in aSan Franciscoart gallery next weekend. She asked if I'd like to come over and use her potter's wheel and kiln." As explanation,Lynnadded, "I'd told her I took a couple of years of ceramics in college. I loved using a wheel."

"Ah." He sounded amused and a little bitter. "The way to her heart."

"Did you learn?"

"She tried," Adam said shortly.

"Did you?"

"Probably not." He laughed without much humor. "I felt about her studio like most kids do about a baby brother. It was my compet.i.tor for her attention, and it always won." This smile, though crooked, became more relaxed, more genuine. "Besides, I have not a grain of artistic ability. I made the ugliest d.a.m.n pots you've ever seen."

"It's odd that we were both only children. I felt a little more secure than you did, though."

"Were you lonely?" He looked as if he really wanted to know.

"No." Why hadn't she been? "We were such good friends. Mom didn't seem lonely, so how could I be?"

Lynnhad never told this to anyone, but now she admitted, "I was terribly shocked when Mom got married. It made me wonder oh, this sounds terrible..."

Adam finished for her, "You wondered if she'd ever really been as happy as you thought she was."

"Yes."Lynnmade a face. "I suppose everyone grows up and looks at their parents and one day realizes maybe they weren't quite who you thought they were. If that isn't too muddled a sentence."

"Clear as Perrier," Adam a.s.sured her with a grin. "Except 'everyone' doesn't have to reevaluate a parent, because some of us knew ours. Mine are just who I concluded they were."

"Are they?"

He went still. "What's that mean?"

"Just that..." She hesitated. "I had the impression your mother was probing to find out whether I'd be a suitably loving wife for you. She seemed concerned."

"Concerned," he repeated flatly.

"Some people aren't very demonstrative."

He gave a short, hard laugh. "My mother is not demonstrative."

"You think she doesn't love you?" But he was so quick to hug Rose, to smooth away a tear or tickle her into laughter! He couldn't possibly have learned that from books!

"I think she feels an obligation."

"Well, I think you're wrong,"Lynnsaid stoutly. "She was definitely suspicious of me." She thought for a moment. "I guess that's natural since she knows why we got married."

"Then she doesn't have any reason to worry about you breaking my heart, does she?"

"No." She spoke quietly, not letting him see that he had hurt her. "You're right. Maybe I misunderstood."

Say,Youcould break my heart , she begged him without words, her gaze lowered to the pale amber of her cinnamon apple tea. Say...

Gentler, his voice broke her pitiful thoughts. "You're not unhappy, are you?"

"Me?"Lynnmade herself look up with wide eyes, as if astonished at the question. "Why would I be unhappy?"Because I love you, and you don't love me, she answered her own question.

"Some women are romantics." His tone was odd.

She would have sworn she wasn't one of them. She had never intended to remarry;she was incapable of the depth of pa.s.sion and commitment a man would want in a wife.

She was an idiot,Lynnthought, and fully deserved the fix she'd gotten herself into.

"Not me," she claimed, and took a calm sip of her tea.

She felt his gaze resting on her and would have given almost anything to know what he was thinking. But for some peculiar reason her emotions seemed close to the surface. If she had met his eyes just then, she might not have been able to keep her secrets.

And she must. She must! She was so lucky, had so much, she wouldn't be foolish enough to let herself ache for the little that Adam couldn't give her.

"Did I tell you what Rose said today?" she asked with a smile so bright it felt brittle.

Without moving a muscle, Adam relaxed.Lynnsensed it with every fiber of her being. He had feared she would ask him something he couldn't answer, or didn't want to answer. Like,Can I break your heart? Or even,Areyou happy?

Instead she was deliberately reminding him of what they had in common: their children.

He laughed in the right places at her story, told one of his own, then commented on the book he was reading. The evening was ordinary, pleasant; outwardly both were comfortable.

After turning off the lights and going upstairs, they even made love. No,Lynnreminded herself, tears burning her eyes as she lay sprawled atop him in the aftermath, her face hidden against his chest, not love, they had s.e.x .

There was a difference, and she had been pretending there wasn't. A mistake she would try very hard not to make in the future.

Adam rolled, settling her against him, and she sighed and turned away as if already half-asleep.

They could be content, even happy, without both being deeply, pa.s.sionately in love. And so she reminded herself again: enjoy what you have, be grateful for Sh.e.l.ly and Rose's sake, and don't grieve for what you can't have.

Hot tears, falling silently, wet her pillowcase.

Chapter 14.

"Coffee sir?" thewaiter accepted Adam's nod and refilled his cup. "Our cheesecake is excellent." Adam skipped the dessert;Lynndecided to indulge. The three partners in Adam's firm were having dinner with their wives at aPortlandrestaurant. This was throwingLynnin with a vengeance. She had never met these friends and colleagues, and both they and their wives had known Jennifer.

Now, amid general chatter as the others debated dessert, she touched Adam's thigh and murmured, "I'm going to the rest room. Will you ask if they have herbal tea? I forgot."

"Anything but peppermint." He knew her tastes. When sherose , Jillian, another of the wives, stood as well. "I'll join you."

As Jillian pa.s.sed Adam to followLynn, she leaned down and murmured in his ear, "I like her. You're a lucky guy."

Erica, sitting on Adam's other side, had overheard. With the other two women wending their way between tables toward the back of the elegant restaurant, she said, "I'm so glad this marriage has worked out for you, Adam. Ron told me the circ.u.mstances, I hope you don't mind. It sounded like a prescription for disaster, and instead the two of you are a pair of lovebirds!"

Lovebirds?Adam thought incredulously. Where the h.e.l.l had she gotten that idea?

"You do look happy," agreed her husband, who had been Adam's best friend since university days. Ron Chainey was the only one here who'd metLynn, as he'd been the best man at the wedding. "You've been keepingLynntucked away." His grin was wicked. "Now we know why."

Erica, a buxom redhead who was unapologetically plump, patted his hand. "I'm so glad, after Jennifer, that you've found someone."

"He always was a lucky son of a gun." Ron aimed a mock punch at his shoulder.