He stood on the porch about twenty seconds, oddly inert, not knowing what to do. Where the heck was she? He couldn’t believe she would blow him off.
Finally he tried the door handle. It turned. He pushed the door inward, calling out as he stepped inside. No answer.
He switched on the light in the entryway. Melissa’s handbag lay on the sideboard where she always tossed it when she got home. He stared at it. If she’d gone out she would have taken her handbag.
Fear unfurled inside him. “Melissa? You home?” Snapping to life, he rounded the corner to the living room with urgent steps. Someone could have broken in. Attacked her—
He lurched to a sudden halt. She sat on the couch in the darkened room, her spine straight, her hands folded neatly on her lap. “Melissa? Oh, God. Are you okay?”
In the light from the entryway he saw her blink. Her eyes seemed focused on the opposite wall. She didn’t make a sound, but a moment later she gave a small nod.
Once again Kyle couldn’t move. Relief hit his system like a chemical substance, overwhelming and intense.
He found his voice. “Jesus, Melissa, you scared the shit out of me. I thought you’d—I thought someone had—”
She still didn’t look at him. He took a few steps toward her. Silence filled the room and in that silence he became aware of the fast, shallow sound of her breath.
A moment later her body crumpled on the couch.
MELISSA WAS DIMLY AWARE of Kyle pulling her onto his lap. When had he sat down next to her? He stroked her hair back from her face and held her torso against his chest, rocking her.
Her fingers tingled. Some of them had gone numb. She tried to slow her breathing. She took deep, shuddering gulps of air.
“That’s right,” he soothed. “It’s okay.”
God, this was the kind of thing Anita would do. Or a patient. Not her. She was the doctor, who treated others. She wasn’t supposed to be the one with a problem.
Melissa gasped again, and suddenly she was crying. She sobbed against Kyle’s neck, her tears running down to dampen his collar. Her body shook violently, unattractively, and he hugged her close.
“It’s okay, Mel. I’m here for you.”
All the stress of the past few months worked its way to the surface. She couldn’t hide it anymore, couldn’t keep pushing it down.
Gradually her breathing evened out as she gave in to it. She hadn’t cried like this in a very long time. Even on the gut-wrenching night when they’d ended up making love…
“Oh, God,” she mumbled.
He pulled a tissue from the box on the end table and handed it to her.
She paused long enough to blow her nose, then more sobs overtook her.
Finally, a few minutes later, her body slowly stilled. She felt a sense of calm seep into her limbs. She accepted another tissue and blotted her face, her swollen eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“Don’t be.” He held her against him, against his broad, solid chest.
Melissa realized she still sat on his lap. Curled up like a child. She shifted self-consciously, unused to being in such a vulnerable position. Not even as a child had she been held like this—at least, not since the accident. Her father had been too overcome with grief and despair, too busy resisting the urge to die, to have the energy. And Anita had been too distraught, as well. She’d needed Melissa to provide the comforting gestures their father couldn’t.
“What a mess I am,” she said.
Kyle didn’t release her. “Shhh. It doesn’t matter.” He kissed her forehead. “Tell me what happened.”
She swallowed. “I’m pregnant,” she said with a feeble little laugh.
“What else?”
“Maybe it’s hormonal.”
“Maybe,” he said. “What else happened?”
She inhaled deeply, let the air out in a sigh. Had she ever appreciated the simple ability to breathe before? Not like this. “Oh, Kyle. It’s my sister.”
“You told her about the baby?”
She nodded. “It’s crazy. She…I’m not the only one who’s pregnant.”
A few seconds passed. Kyle reached over and switched on a reading lamp. He cradled her against his other shoulder and they blinked at each other as their eyes adjusted.
He frowned in disbelief. “Are you serious? You mean—?”
“She’s due in June. I wasn’t going to tell her about my pregnancy, but then she told me about hers.”
“It knocked you off balance.” He traced the curve of her face.
“Way off. I couldn’t believe it.” Melissa closed her eyes. “Why now?”
“You’re worried about your father.”
“Of course. He’ll probably have a heart attack. The worst thing is, Anita doesn’t want to get married. She and Troy are staying together, but she says she’s not ready for anything more. That means he’ll have two unmarried, pregnant daughters at the same time.”
“You really think it’ll be too much for him?”
Melissa met his gaze again. “I love my dad, Kyle. But he’s fragile. When my mom and brother died…he fell apart.”
“Well, who wouldn’t? This isn’t quite the same thing, though.”
“I know, but it will still be a shock. He’s so old-fashioned.” She scooted off Kyle’s lap and stood. “I need to wash my face, okay?”
He followed her to the bathroom and leaned a shoulder against the door frame while she splashed water on her face. Her features were puffy, but the cold water helped. She patted her face with a soft white hand towel.
“I feel better,” she told him, straightening the towel on the rack. “Thank you for taking care of me. For being there.”
“Of course, Mel, we’re friends.” He took a step into the room and pulled her into his arms before she even had a thought of stopping him. He kissed her forehead again and moved his lips to her temple, inhaling. “Mmm.”
It happened so quickly. One moment she was recovering from an emotional episode, the next moment an acute physical awareness filled her whole body. Melissa started to pull away, but when she did his lips traced a path from her temple to her mouth. And they were kissing.
They hadn’t kissed since July. Now that seemed like only yesterday. This felt so natural, so easy.
So automatic.
The kiss wasn’t outrageous. No tongues, no frantic moans or angling of heads. Just a simple, hot meeting of lips. Spellbinding. Gentle and soft and sexy. Like a kiss between a longtime couple, familiar and intimate.
And then Kyle ended it and rested his forehead against hers. They both breathed more quickly now, but this time it was arousal.
“That didn’t feel like friends,” she managed to say.
“I know. I’m sorry.” He didn’t sound particularly regretful. His voice had a ragged quality. “Want to pretend it didn’t happen?”
“Oh, yes. Definitely.”
She stepped out of his arms. They walked to the kitchen and it was as if the interlude had never happened.
Her body still humming, she opened the refrigerator door. “Let’s