Cheeks burned. “Two months ago.”
“I didn’t say the last time you were here. I said the last time you saw it. As in, paid attention to what it’s like now. Not what you remember.”
She shut her eyes. Let’s see…she looked like hell, felt worse, and was standing in a socially unacceptable nightie arguing semantics with a man who made her hot just by breathing. And not even on her. Yep, she was officially having a sucky day.
“It doesn’t matter,” she finally said. “Mama’s giving me my first prenatal checkup after I get cleaned up.”
Immediately Cal’s expression changed, as something that looked close to awe obliterated every bit of the smart-aleckiness…and walloped her emotions right out of the ball park. Again his eyes sauntered back to her body, only this time, she felt…worshipped. So much so, she didn’t even object when he took a step closer, then closer still, finally tugging the dish towel from her hands to lay one large, gentle hand on her still flat belly.
She swallowed. Twice. One from a plain old-fashioned rush of awareness, the second time from something achy and weird she couldn’t even define.
“Tell you what,” he said, bending slightly to look in her eyes, and she saw not the man who rattled her hormones clear into the next county, but the boy with the courage to cry in front of her when his mama was dying. “Let me stay for your appointment, then I’ll take you over to Ruby’s for lunch and we’ll see how it goes from there. How’s about it? A couple of hours, just for us.”
Senses returned. She removed his hand—managing not to sigh—and crossed her arms. Under her braless breasts. Wrong. So she lowered her arms, feeling them bounce back into place. Terrific.
“There is no ‘us,’ Cal. There’s never been an ‘us.’ And there’s never going to be an ‘us.’”
And quit standing there making this so damn hard, with those damn sweet eyes of yours and that damn, double-damn, stupid, infuriating, unflappable grin.
Quit making me long for things that can’t be.
“But there is a baby,” he said. “Our baby. So I’m sticking around.”
“God. I’d forgotten how stubborn you are.”
“One of my more endearing qualities.”
She sighed. “There’s really no point, Cal. It’s not as if you can see or hear anything yet.”
He crossed his arms, the smile gone. “I don’t suppose I can stop you from going back to New York if that’s what you’re determined to do. But let me tell you something—when you are here, there is no way you’re keeping me from being part of your life as far as it concerns our child. So you might as well get used to it, right now, and save yourself a lot of headaches down the road.”
Hoo-boy. Major-deer-in-headlights time. If only…
If only what?
She had no idea.
Dawn blinked until the fog cleared and Cal’s calm, set-to-simmer gaze swam into focus. She blew out yet another sigh, her hands flipping up on either side of her head.
“Fine. Stay. But I’m not going anywhere afterward.”
Then Cal grinned, Dawn’s nipples went tra-la-la and she took off down the hall for that shower, in as dignified a manner as she could manage in a nightgown a breath away from disintegration.
“You might want to bring a sweater or something,” he called after her. “It’s kinda chilly out today.”
Chapter 3
“Just remember,” Dawn said as Cal held open the door to Ruby’s two hour later. “I’m only letting you do this because I’m starving. Got that?”
Her shampoo scent distracted him for a second, but he caught himself fast enough to both say, “Yes, ma’am,” and swallow his smile. She narrowed her eyes slightly, then turned to head inside. Only she wheeled back around so fast her hand whapped him in the stomach.
“And not one word about…you know.”
She’d been right, that there really hadn’t been much point to his sticking around for the exam, especially since Ivy threw him out before they got to the fun stuff, anyway. Except that being there helped make the whole thing feel more real, somehow. Dawn would probably have kittens if she knew, but he’d already been up in the attic and found the cradle he and his brothers had used as babies, the one his daddy had made the instant he found out he was gonna be a daddy, after nearly fifteen years of marriage. And when Cal thought about his own baby lying in it, looking up at him with a big, goony grin, he got all choked up.
When he thought about Dawn having the baby in New York…well, it just made him sick, is what. But he also had enough sense to know when to back off.
“I’m not stupid, Dawn,” he said, nudging her from behind before they attracted any more attention than they already were. As it was, the noise level in the diner—which at lunchtime generally hovered somewhere between deafening and mind numbing—dropped considerably at their entrance. Cal was tempted to call everybody on it, only he knew that would only make it worse. Besides, Dawn had gone still as a statue, one arm pressing against her stomach.
Damn. He’d forgotten what she’d said about strong smells. And the grease-to-air-molecule ratio in here was running, at a conservative guess, a good fifty-to-one.
“You okay?” he said quietly, taking her elbow whether she liked it or not. The look she gave him pretty much indicated she didn’t.
“What?”
“The smell,” he whispered. “Is it getting to you?”
Except for a couple of clips, her hair was hanging loose down the back of her light blue sweater, which was the same color as the flowers in another of those long, floppy skirts that looked like something her mother would wear. Just like the ugly, clunky shoes. The ends of her hair teased the top of his hand, sending memories racing around inside his skull for a second until he silenced them by focusing on the present.
“Lord, yes,” she whispered back. “I want every single thing on the menu. Oh, there’s a booth! Grab it!”
As the noise level gradually worked its way back up, Charmaine Chambers, Ruby’s newest waitress and the same age as Cal and Dawn, leaned over to wipe down their table, her initial—and customary—smile for Cal vanishing the instant she caught sight of Dawn.
“Special today’s a boneless barbecue rib sandwich,” she announced in a monotone, her breasts shifting restlessly underneath a baggy uniform that was so bright pink it hurt Cal’s eyes to look at it. She straightened, then poured them both water from a dripping plastic pitcher she’d grabbed from the nearby station. “You need a menu?” she asked Dawn, her words all tight.
Dawn flicked a glance at Cal, then pressed one hand to her chest. “Hey, Char! It’s me, Dawn.”
The brunette’s slate-blue gaze bounced off Dawn. “I know.” Her mouth twitched, but calling it a smile was pushing it. “Thought you were in New York.”
“I’m…here visiting my mother. How’re those gorgeous boys of yours?”
“They’re fine. You know what you want yet?”
Dawn shoved a hank of hair behind her ear, obviously wrestling to keep her thoughts to herself. “The rib sandwich sounds great. That come with fries?”
“And slaw, yeah. Soup’s extra, though.”
“What kind?”
“Split pea.”
“Really?” she said, her whole