Page 53
She slanted a look at him over her shoulder. “If I wanted to talk about it, we’d be talking about it.”
“Touché.” He unbuttoned his shirt. “Can’t make it right if I don’t know what it is, Cait.”
“It’s nothing, really.” Her smile this time rang more genuine, a hint of melancholy in the expression. She stepped into him, sliding her hands up to his neck. “It’s me, and I’ll process it.”
He trailed a finger along her spine, flattened his palm at the small of her back. “You’re sure?”
“I am.” She pressed a kiss to the side of his neck.
A grin quirked at his mouth, and he pulled back far enough to meet her gaze. “You’re trying to distract me.”
“Mmm, I believe I’m succeeding.” She slipped a hand along his abs to his belt line, tracing a finger along his fly, where he was half-hard already, sending a pleasurable shudder down his spine. “It’s been a stressful afternoon. Maybe we both need distracting.”
Something twinged in his memory, but disappeared under a soft, exploratory touch on his abs. Eyes closed, he grunted in mingled assent and pleasure while she unbuckled his belt and lowered his zipper, dipping a hand in his boxer briefs to caress with light touches.
He wrapped an arm about her waist, cradled her nape with his other hand, heavy arousal tugging low in his belly. “Hell, that’s good.”
Her laugh shivered over him, as feathery as the touches she used to make him hard and ready. He leaned on the island, tucking her pelvis into his, sliding his hand to her jaw so he could caress that spot below her ear. With a humming sigh, she cupped his elbow, folding her fingers around his hard-on, sliding from base to tip in a steady motion.
Lord, he loved how she touched him, having her hands on him.
He nuzzled the side of her neck, biting lightly. For a split second, he pictured lifting her to the island, spreading her thighs, plunging home — but the condoms lay in his bedside drawer.
“We need to take this in the bedroom,” he rasped close to her ear, drawing her into him, subtle spice filling his senses.
“What if we didn’t?” Her hold on his elbow tightened, her voice breathless, full of emotion and arousal.
He chuckled, nipping her earlobe. “Well, we could stay here, but it’s easier if I don’t have to make a run to CVS for a morning-after pill.”
“No.” She slid her palm up to splay over his abdomen, pulled back enough to meet his gaze. “I mean, what if we stop taking precautions?”
He stilled, bracketing her hips, staring into dark green eyes, her meaning sinking in through a dissipating haze of arousal. “I think we both know the answer to that question.”
Her mouth tightened, and she flattened a palm on his shoulder, levering away. He closed his hand over hers, allowing her step back but maintaining a connection.
“That’s at least eighteen more years of parenting, Cait.” He folded his fingers about hers, brows twisting together. “Is that what you want?”
She flexed against his hold, but didn’t pull away. “Would I bring the subject up if I hadn’t thought about it?”
“No, but I know it wasn’t on your radar until—” He swallowed, hard. Talking about the miscarriage, the baby they’d lost, still gutted him. “Until the baby.”
“Yours either, but you were excited.”
“Well, yeah.” He squeezed her hand. “And I know the loss hurt you. It hurt both of us. We shouldn’t make a long-term decision based on those emotions—”
“Forget I said anything.” She tugged away, turning her back to walk to her side of the closet. Hands at his waist, he sighed, eyeing her trembling hands while she pulled sleep shorts and a camisole from her drawers. “Call the urologist and—”
“Caitlin.” He pushed off the island, stood behind her, cradled her shoulders in his hands. Ignoring her palpable urge to shrug him off, he rested his chin atop her head. “I can’t ignore how you’ve been parenting your entire adult life, the way your choices were affected when mine weren’t.”
She spun, a hint of ire sparking deep in her eyes. “Yours were affected.”
“You really want this?” He curved both palms over her back. “Three kids spaced out like ours would be, the long haul of it? Even cutting the travel back, my hours are crazy some weeks, and if I end up at Conroe with that commute . . . Cait, I’m not going to ignore how much would fall on you.”
“I could do part-time again. Take a sabbatical to publish or pick up adjunct work at UH. I treasure being their mother, and it didn’t consume my life before.” She rolled one shoulder in her elegant shrug, a hint of melancholy about the set of her mouth. “I assumed you would be enthusiastic about the prospect.”
“Cautiously enthusiastic.” He flexed his fingers at her hips. Honestly, he loved the idea of another child with her, but he had to be logical here, put her first. “I want to do right by you, and I don’t want us making a decision we’d regret later.”
“Regret?” She blinked before narrowing her eyes.
