Dream Keeper (7 page)

“Well, that was quite an afternoon, wasn’t it?” Connie stretched her arms wide, yawning with satisfaction. “I think I need a nap, now.”

“But wait a minute.” Jeannette waggled a finger at Rissa. “You never said. Did your doctor say anything?”

Rissa swirled the contents of her teacup and looked bored. “Could you just go rain on somebody else’s parade? My husband and I are making plans for our baby, and he’s walking around with his chest poked out. We haven’t decided on a color for the nursery, or a college yet, but I’ll be sure to let you know when we do. Okay?”

Connie bit her lip and sucked air. Jeannette looked uncomfortable when she stood. “It’s been a long afternoon, and I guess we should get going. We’ll see you guys later.”

Marlea stood and both nurses shook their heads. “That’s okay, we know where the coats are. We’ll just…See you.”

Blinking, Marlea watched them go. She waited until she could see Connie’s small car rolling down the driveway before turning to Rissa. “What was that about?”

“What?” Rissa struggled to keep her litigator’s tone intact.

“Damn it, Rissa, don’t make me call you names, ’cause I’m not scared of you. And, don’t make me chase you for an answer, ’cause I’m faster than you’ve ever been. Besides, I married your brother. You have to talk to me.”

Rissa set the cup on the table and sighed heavily. “About what, Marlea?”

Hands on her hips, Marlea bit at the inside of her cheek and stared.
Is she really going to make me say it out loud?
Sitting determined and silent, Rissa waited. “I want to know what they wanted to know, Rissa. Has your doctor said anything special about your pregnancy? About your ability to carry a baby to term?”

“Nothing, Marlea. Nothing at all.”

For the briefest of moments, pain, fear, and anger chased through the depth of Rissa’s gaze and she refused to let memory stake a claim on her thoughts. Months of costly fertility treatments, nausea, and cramping had seemed a small enough price to pay for a few weeks of breathtaking possibility in her quest for motherhood. And just when it seemed that her mission would bear fruit, there was nothing.

And if I could have kept my silly mouth shut about the possibility, they wouldn’t all be looking at me like I was going to grow a third eye in the back of my head.

“Is this how everybody is going to treat me for the next six months? I’m not going to get to enjoy being pregnant, especially after waiting so long for it?” Rissa closed her eyes and blew out hard. She took a deep breath before she opened her eyes. “I’ve talked to my doctor, and I’m not worried. Why should you be? I can’t wait to be this big.” She stretched her arms wide. “Pregnancy is a condition, Marlea, not a disease, and I’m not worried.”
Even if I don’t tell you everything my doctor said
.

“Are you sure you’re not doing selective listening? Only hearing what you want to hear?” Marlea narrowed her eyes. “I know you, Rissa. You’ve got a mouth like a sieve and a head like a rock.”

“I hear everything my doctor says.”
Even if I don’t want to.
On her last checkup, Joyce Ashton had said something about her cervix. When Joyce said the words, they came out in slow, measured tones and Rissa barely recognized them even as she heard herself ask what they meant to her and her baby. Your cervix is short, the doctor said, almost as though it had been partitioned.
And what in the world did that mean?
When Joyce said something about high risk, Rissa had stopped listening.

Now, facing Marlea, Rissa knew she’d blocked most of the words—couldn’t remember them if she had to. The only thing she remembered, she was afraid to admit, and could never say to Dench. Joyce had warned her that the heavier the fetus, the greater the possibility of losing it.
But just because there’s a warning doesn’t always mean that there’s always danger ahead. I’m healthy. Sometimes warnings only exist to instill caution. And I’ve done my research. I’m cautious. I’m watching my weight, I’m not engaging in any dangerous activity, I don’t smoke or drink…

Lifting her head higher, Rissa looked at Marlea and squared her shoulders. “I’m not worried about a thing.”

Chapter 5

“You could call in, play hooky.”

“No, I’ll go in, make sure all the contracts are signed and be back in a few hours. I’m just jealous that you can spend the day working from home.”

The arms that enclosed her came as no surprise. Distinctly male flesh, planes and strength, pressed at her back, supporting her softness. Bringing her hands up to trace the muscles of his arms, her fingers linked with his, and she found herself admiring the red-tinged bronze of his skin against the warm gold of her own. Looking up, she found his eyes in the mirror and smiled.

“Damn, our baby is going to be pretty.” His breath was warm against her throat and she felt the words soak into her skin. “I’m going to have to start early, teaching him to use his powers for good.”

“And if it’s a girl?”

“I’m gonna buy a bat.”

“Way to go, Big Poppa.” Her fingers tightened on his, and though she didn’t try very hard, she couldn’t tear her eyes from the mirror. When his mouth closed on her throat, her knees softened and nearly gave way. “Keep doing that and I’m going to miss my meeting.” Holding her closer he did it again, finding her rhythm this time. His eyes laughed when her head fell back and she moaned, “You are a wicked, wicked man.”

His fingers broke from hers and slipped low with wanton determination. She called his name when questing fingers found the lacy edges of a final barrier.

“Should I stop?”

“Wicked man,” she whispered, gasping when his fingers answered.

Going with him, no fear of falling, Rissa dropped all pretense of thought. She forgot about work, the time it would take to redress, apologies she might have to make, and what anyone else might think. She gave herself fully to the joys of the only man who had ever stolen her breath.

Whimpers, sighs, moans, and the ocean of heat she brought with her burned his blood and cindered his thought. Ebbing and flowing with her hunger, knowing the keys to her satisfaction, Dench found himself before his wife with no words and he wanted to pull her deep into his heart, right through the very skin that separated them.

When she collapsed against his chest, wet and sated, he knew only two things:
I’m happy. She makes me happy.
His arms felt a little worn from the work of her, but she was always worth it. Looking at her, he was glad he’d made the effort.

“Wow,” she breathed, pulling far enough away to look at him. Her eyes were soft and her lips swollen, and she looked ready to fall with him again. She sighed and laughed softly, then dropped her head to his chest. “I have to get to the office, but I don’t want to move—not now, not ever.”

His finger found a tear-shaped drop of sweat between her breasts. “That makes two of us, but we’ve got to do what we’ve got to do.” His palm curved over the swell of her belly. “Don’t want this baby to be homeless, right?”

“Wicked and practical, too. Such a complicated man.” Her tiny kiss at the corner of his mouth grabbed his heart and held it tight when his hand travelled low again. She caught his hand and held it as she escaped his embrace.

Slipping across the radiant flooring and into the shower, Rissa turned on the water, admiring the flash of her wedding ring. It was always hard, coming back from a long weekend, particularly one as special as their Valentine’s weekend at Biltmore Estate. Rissa closed her eyes and enjoyed the memory again. Long hours of touching and just breathing the same air had been better than anything she might have thought of on her own. Dench had thought of it and planned the weekend getaway to Ashville.

The car trip had been pleasant and the North Carolina countryside reminded her of a postcard. Ashville on its own was beautiful, but their sumptuous suite at the Biltmore was romantic enough to make her feel like a new bride again.
But this time, I’m the mommy, and goodness knows, the daddy sure
did make me feel good about it.
Through the clear glass walling the shower, she saw Dench move in the room beyond where she stood and stroked the ring with her thumb, moving it against her skin.

Stepping under the spray, she stood tall and slender, with warm water pouring over her swollen breasts and exquisitely sensitized skin.
Almost five months
, she marveled.
Who knew the time could go this fast?
Filling her palm with the jasmine and honey shower gel Dench loved to smell on her skin, Rissa pushed her stomach out and laughed at her baby bump.

Sliding her hand over the swell of her baby as she saw her husband moving nearby made her smile—then she remembered.
Joyce wants me to see a specialist.
Rissa reached for a loofah and the smile slipped from her lips. Putting the appointment off couldn’t make that big a difference.
I just wanted to enjoy the weekend first.
She scrubbed the loofah across her shoulders and ignored the little hair of concern that crawled across her psyche.
I told her I would, and I will.
Stepping closer to the falling water, feeling herself in his eyes, Rissa turned her head. Dench stood in the doorway watching her. She lifted her fingers to him and was pleased when he waved back.

I’ll make the appointment today,
she promised.

* * *

“So? How was Valentine’s Day? Ashville is always so dreamy, and to have all weekend like that…” Yvette scrunched her cute face into a leer, then sighed. “Might as well have your fun now, because when the baby gets here…”

Rissa brushed past her and picked up a handful of mail as she passed Karee’s desk.

“…none of that slinky underwear is ever going to look the same. Oh, baby, and that’s not all.”

Reaching her office door, Rissa pushed it open and stepped through. Uninvited, Yvette followed. Crossing to the red visitors’ chairs, she plopped into one and crossed her legs. “You know, I do believe your butt is getting big. Carrying the baby low, hmm, that means it’s a boy.”

“Look, Mother Wit, I can do without the comments, and don’t look at me like that.” Rissa dumped her coat, the mail and her briefcase on the desk and ignored Yvette when she pushed her lower lip out. Walking over to the chair facing Yvette, she sat and crossed her legs. “Ask me about our trip.”

Determined to sulk, Yvette concentrated on her nails.

“Come on, ask me. You know you want to.”

“All right, I will, but just to make you happy.” Yvette feigned indifference, and then leaned in, succumbing to her natural impulse. “Tell me, did you have an amazing time? What did you do? Was Dench, like, world class romantic?”

“Yes, everything, and omigod!” Rissa’s hands flew to her face.

“Girl, you’re blushing like a virgin! Tell me everything!”

“You don’t need to know
everything
.” Hands still at her warm cheeks, Rissa giggled.

Yvette sat back and folded her hands in her lap. “Then give me the PG-rated version.”

“Okay, here’s what I can tell you.” Rissa leaned forward, eager to share, but was interrupted by Karee pushing the office door open.

“Sorry.” Karee’s head bobbed from side to side when the women looked over at her. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, but they’re here, the Clarences.”

“Oh, I’d better get out of your way, then.” Yvette stood and looked back just long enough to make her point. “I expect you to finish telling me about your trip.”

“I know you do,” Rissa told her partner’s back.

Sierra Clarence came through the door first, and she took Rissa’s breath away. “My goodness, Sierra, you look like the maternity poster girl.”

“Thank you, and you! You’re still so slim, how many months are you?”

“We’re almost to five,” Rissa moved her hands over her stomach and hips proudly. “I just can’t get over how good you look. You are going to look really good on camera, the perfect spokeswoman for child support products.”

At Sierra’s side, James beamed and nodded. Her doe-soft eyes were bright and she held her husband’s hand. “We’ve got two months to go, and then you’ll get to meet James Jr.”

Lips parted, Rissa froze in her tracks. “I thought you didn’t want to know the baby’s sex!”

“It wasn’t me.” Lowering herself carefully into one of the red chairs, Sierra looked at James. “He couldn’t take it, and you know you’re never in this all by yourself, so I gave in.”

“In my defense, she wanted to know, too,” Jimmy laughed. “Especially after you came up with this deal for us to do the commercial series for BeaconGreen. She likes the idea of being able to stand up in front of the camera and talk about how we are going to bring our baby into a green world.”

“And I’m not by myself.”

“No, she’s right. We got to talking about it after you got us the offer,” the boxer drawled. “We liked the idea, and now she can be more specific. She can talk about our son.”

“Knowing that we’ll have a son makes everything more real.” Under his eyes, Sierra smiled and pushed her coat from her shoulders. “I want to thank you for letting us do this.”

“Yeah, thank you. I’m still surprised you used us for this group of commercials. The first time I heard about it, I expected you to use your brother and his wife.”

“They’re a little tied up right now.” Rissa crossed her arms, holding the folder over her stomach. “They have two small children, AJ has his physical therapy practice and Marlea is still teaching at Runyon. On top of that, they’re looking at expanding Project ABLE.”

James perched on the arm of his wife’s chair and gave a long low whistle. “I heard that Project ABLE is going international.”

“In a couple of years, and when they do, they’ll be active on three continents. So, I want to get this BeaconGreen project off the ground with you two as the initial spokespeople.”

Bringing the contracts to the small table, she sat in one of the red chairs, produced a pair of the Mont Blanc pens she favored, and made quick work of explaining the contracts. Sierra lifted her pen to sign, but gasped sharply.

“Are you all right?” Out of her seat, Rissa was halfway to the door.

“Fine.” Sierra blew out hard. Planting one hand on her belly, she gestured to Rissa with the other. “Come feel this.”

Trying not to look as silly as she felt, Rissa walked back across the room. When James and Sierra reached for her, she let them place her hands on Sierra’s stomach, and when they were quiet she was, too. Then she felt it; he kicked.

“Two times,” James grinned. “Too bad Coach Traylor won’t be around when my boy is ready for major league football. That was a field goal right there.”

“He might be.” Sierra’s hand rubbed circles on her belly, and the baby kicked again. “You and Dench still haven’t given us an answer.”

Pressing her palms together and blowing softly between them gave Rissa a moment to think. Then she again pressed a hand to Sierra’s stomach. She felt the ripple when the baby shifted and wanted to say yes, but Dench wanted…so, she bit her tongue and said, “Can I get back to you on that?”

“Just don’t wait too long.” The baby rolled and kicked again. Sierra’s face lit with pleasure in her son’s accomplishment. “Maybe you’ll have a boy and our sons can play on the same team some day.”

Someday
, Rissa thought when she saw them to the door a few minutes later. A little jealous of Sierra’s thickly ripe waddle, she made herself busy with the contracts and exchanging final information with her BeaconGreen counterpart.
I felt their baby move. I can’t wait until my baby does that!

She was still thinking about
someday
as she pulled into her garage. Stepping out of her car, she reached back to collect her purse, briefcase, and the books she’d made a special trip to MEDU for. The lady at the bookstore had been really nice, taking almost an hour to help her choose the right books, offering honey-laced tea, talking about her own pregnancy more than ten years earlier. And she’d walked out of the bookstore exhausted and carrying a couple of hundred dollars’ worth of books.

Dench looked up when she pushed the door open, and his words felt like poetry to her. “Hey, baby, what have you got there?”

Standing in the center of the door that opened into her kitchen, Rissa couldn’t help the smile Dench brought to her lips. He stood more than six feet tall and two hundred fifteen pounds, with broad shoulders, long arms, and a tightly muscled chest. Her husband wore jeans, a blue flannel shirt, Timberland boots, and a frilly yellow apron. He held a long-handled wooden spoon and the lid to a small saucepan.
Sexy.

“I stopped at MEDU,” she finally said and grunted a little when she held her full bag aloft. “What are you up to?” She walked closer, dumping the bag on a chair. “Smells good, what is it?”

“Dinner. Thought that since you had to work today and I was home, you might appreciate having dinner ready.” He dipped the wooden spoon into a silky looking white sauce and offered it. Watching his eyes, she tasted. Smooth and buttery, the sauce slipped across her tongue, delighting her palate along the way. When she hummed satisfaction he smiled. “Alfredo. Good, huh?”

“Very.” She licked her lips and looked at him. “A good looking man who can cook. I bless your Aunt Linda every day for raising you right.”

“She did her best.” Dench rattled pots and pans, then stirred the sauce again when Rissa reached for her bag of books. “You had a call today.”

“Oh. Who was it?”

“Joyce Ashton.”

Something in his voice made her stop. An odd thread of doubt unraveled along her spine. Forcing calm she could not claim, Rissa looked at him. “Did she say what she wanted, or leave a message?”

Dench jammed an oven mitt over one of his big hands and pulled a pan of rolls from the oven. Settling the rolls, he pulled the mitt off and dropped it on the counter. “She said that things are going well, so far.”

Rissa felt her heart stutter.

“She wanted to know if you had contacted the other doctor yet.” His eyes darkened and all of the laughter that came so easily to him seemed to drain away. “What other doctor, Rissa? Why do you need to consult with another doctor?”

“It’s just a precaution, Dench. Nothing to worry about.”

“Then why didn’t you say something?”