Just Destiny (43 page)

Jenny took the paper he handed her. “Want some coffee?”

More coffee to fuel his nerves? That was exactly what he didn’t need, but this was one of those times when his brain had absolutely no control over his mouth. “Sure,” he followed her in and closed the door behind him.

“You’re pretty perky for this early in the morning.”

Perky? Zinging, jazzed, humming, buzzing, hyper.

“I’ve been up a while.” Steve rolled back off the balls of his feet where he’d been nearly bouncing and forced himself to stroll into the kitchen. He stretched his neck from side to side, then took a seat at the table.

Jenny handed him his coffee with cream and sat across from him, tucking her legs under her until just her painted pink toenails showed. Lips puckering, she blew on her coffee before taking a tentative sip. “How come?”

His eyes concentrated on her luscious lips. “Huh?”

“How come you’ve been up for hours?”

The perfect lead-in. He’d rehearsed a half-dozen ways to bring up the subject and he needn’t have—she’d done it for him. Steve looked at her, relaxed, slouching in her chair, waiting for his answer, and his courage almost failed him.

She was comfortable with him. What if he ruined that? What if she hated him? He looked at the corner of the table, unwilling to see the confusion settle in her eyes.

“I couldn’t sleep. There’s something I need to tell you—something you need to know.”

Jenny put her coffee down. “I already know. I’ve always known.”

His head snapped up. She knew? Why didn’t she say something? Because she didn’t care for him or because she wasn’t ready for another relationship? He snapped his slack mouth shut. “You do?”

She nodded. “How come you’re admitting it now?” She took another sip of coffee.

“I, uh, I thought you should know—have you gone to the doctor’s to…” He swallowed hard. “For…it?”

Jenny shook her head. “This afternoon.”

“I just thought you should know before then.”

“Why.” She cocked her head to the side. “What difference does it make?”

Wha—? His heart dropped. “I thought it might make a difference to—to your decision to, um.”

Jenny put the coffee cup down, frowning. “What does your getting fired have to do with my in vitro?”

“Fired?” He didn’t know whether to be relieved, exasperated, or scared. “Jen. That’s not what I was going to say.”

“You
didn’t
get fired because of my case?”

He frowned; exasperation won out. “Yes, but that’s not it.”

“Then what?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” she said, too quickly to have really thought about it.

“No, Jenny.” He paused, gaining her full attention. “I’m
in
love with you.”

“Oh.” Her eyes grew wide. “
Oh
.”

Steve stared at his hands, wrapped around the coffee mug as if it were a lifeline.

“
Oh
.” Her cheeks turned dusky rose with the realization.

Oh. Not exactly the response he’d been hoping for, but not revulsion either. He hurried on. “You might not be ready yet, but I think there’s something more than friendship here. I know the timing stinks.” He breathed out, trying to calm down so that he could rationally present his case. “But you should know how I feel before you go through with it.”

Eyes solemn, Jenny studied him. “So…you’re telling me
now
because you don’t want me to have the baby?”

“Yes.” He washed a hand over his face. “I know it’s totally selfish of me. I want you to be happy and I know how badly you want a child. I just wish that the baby could be mine. Gabe was a great guy, and I respect the love you guys had, but I’m sorry.” He looked to where Ritz lay on the floor across the kitchen before forcing himself to face her. “I don’t want you to have it. I want a chance.

“I’ve loved you and hated myself for years. Had Gabe lived, I would’ve found a way to get over you. I would
never
have tried to come between you and Gabe—you gotta believe that.” Steve stared at her, needing her to read the truth in his eyes. “But he’s gone and I’m still here. And I love you. And all I’m asking for is a chance.”

Jenny’s eyes clouded. “A chance?”

“To be with you. To see if we have a future together.” He hurried on. “The other night when I kissed you, you felt something—well, at least you weren’t repulsed. And we’re good friends. A lot of marriages have started out with less.”

“Marriage?” Now her eyes popped open wide.

“Not right away,” he hurried to assure her. “First we’d date a while and then let things develop naturally. I just wanted you to know that I’m—I’m—” he floundered, “not afraid of commitment or anything.”

“Steve…” Jenny’s mouth opened and closed several times. She shrugged. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, obviously I care for you—a lot. You’re my best friend. But the
in
love, and…marriage is—Wow. I don’t know.”

Remind her
, his conscience whispered.
She has a right to know
.

“In the interest of full disclosure…I should remind you that there’s a good chance I could be sterile.” He looked her in the eye. “I probably can’t father any children.”

Being sterile had never really bothered him before, but in the face of Jenny’s desire for Gabe’s baby, he felt like a huge failure. He couldn’t give her what she wanted most, yet here he was, still asking her to give them a chance.

“There’s medicine I can take,” he blurted out, “but even if it worked, it’d involve surgery and probably in vitro fertilization still. I’d be willing to do it, but it still might not work.”

A deep frown puckered Jenny’s brow while she rimmed her coffee mug with one index finger, thinking. “Hmmm. If we did have difficulty conceiving, we could use Gabe’s sperm,” she raised eyes lit with hope and purpose. “It’s perfect. Like it’s our destiny. This makes sense of Gabe’s death.”

“What?”

“You probably can’t have children, and I have Gabe’s sperm. That solves the problem.”

“No. I don’t want you to have his baby. Ever.”

Jenny frowned. “Why not? That’s unreasonable.”

“Maybe, but that’s the way I feel.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?” He fisted his hands on the table. “I’ll tell you what’s ridiculous. I was a decent guy before you came along.
You
move in next door and suddenly I’m a fucking asshole who loves a married woman—not just any married woman, but my good friend who trusted me and whom I liked and admired. Very much.” He paused, letting the truth sink in. “Do you have
any
idea how hard it was to watch you with Gabe, wishing it was me who’d met you first? Wishing it was me you loved?

“For the first time in my life, my self-control deserted me. I hated myself until I got engaged to Annie, and well, you know what a mistake that was. Then Gabe died and I had to wonder if maybe I hadn’t subconsciously wished him gone so I’d have a chance with you. How fucking despicable does that make me?

“I tried to make amends. I tried to be a good friend. I helped you win your lawsuit. But God help me, the thought of his baby growing in you—especially when we both know he probably didn’t even want it, makes me sick to my stomach.”

He scowled until his eyes ached. “I know it’s unreasonable. I could raise Gabe’s kid. But after what I went through with Annie…You’d always see this baby as yours—yours and his. You might not think it now, but I wouldn’t be a real dad to his child—especially if it looked like him.

“What if it was a boy? What if you accused me of being unfair to him because I was jealous he was Gabe’s, not mine? What if I resented the baby? What if I wasn’t strong enough? It could easily come between us and that wouldn’t be fair you, me, or the baby.”

He sighed and raised scared eyes to her. “The truth is…a part of me wants you any way I can have you. But a larger part of me says you have to choose. I’d take the medicine and have surgery. I’d even be willing to consider insemination with a stranger’s sperm—just not Gabe’s. We need to let him go. I
need
you to choose me.”

Finishing, his heart pounding like he’d run the sixty-yard dash in six point three seconds, he wiped sweaty hands on his jeans.

Jenny sat silent, looking stunned. “I…don’t know what to say.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair. “I know I’m a selfish prick. But I have to know you love me as much as him.”
I need proof that I’m at least as important to you as he was
.

Jenny looked at him, confusion and hurt imprinted all over her expressive face. “That’s not fair.”

“I know.” Steve nodded and pursed his lips, never hating himself more.

“You can’t make me choose.”

He had to.

Jenny bit her lip and then looked at him, suddenly hopeful. “You might change your mind.”

“No.” He’d learned that from Annie. He wasn’t going to settle. He’d rather be alone than with the wrong woman.

They were quiet for a few moments. Neither looked at the other for fear of what they’d see. Finally she broke the miserable silence. “If I choose to go through with the in vitro?”

He bit his lower lip. Nausea boiled in his gut. “I’d have to leave.” Steve steeled himself against the tears brightening her eyes.

“So I have to choose between loving you or having children?”

He shook his head. “You don’t get to choose who you love. You have to decide between a future with me—possibly without children, and life without me but with Gabe’s child—maybe.”

“But assisted conceptions are okay?”

Steve fisted his hands tightly at his side to keep from grabbing her and pulling her close. If he touched her, he wouldn’t stop and their physical attraction would only further muddle things. He stared at her as if he could burn the truth of his feelings into her with the strength of his gaze and will.

“Jenny, I love you more than I can say. If we were together, I’d consult every medical expert, try
whatever
it took to have a child with you. But if everything failed, I have to know you’d still love me.”

Jenny digested this new information. “What about adoption?”

“
Adoption
,” he drew out the word thoughtfully, “is an alternative.”

“Just not Gabe’s baby.”

Steve pursed his lips, feeling every bit the bastard he was. “I know it’s unreasonable, but that’s the way I feel.”

She ringed her coffee cup before looking up at him. “Your timing really sucks, Grant.”

“I know.” He stood, looked at the crown of her silky brown head.

Disappointment commingled with resignation. Well, what’d he expect? That he’d throw her life into turmoil again and she’d fall all over him with declarations of love and devotion?

It hadn’t even been a year since Gabe’s death—only eight months. He wasn’t looking forward to that anniversary. Jenny probably wasn’t ready for another relationship, but it was only right that she knew how he felt. He’d presented his case as best he could; now it was up to her.

Steve couldn’t stop himself from moving forward and cupping the back of her head. Closing his eyes, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “See you later.”

At the sweet smell of her hair, fresh from the shower, he leaned close again to nuzzle her temple. He moved to her soft lips, which parted in welcome as her arms clutched his shoulders pulling him closer. Her tongue darted across his lips until he ground his mouth into hers in a primitive urge to take his mate.

One hand gripped the back of her chair while the other bunched her robe at her throat, crushing it together to keep him from yanking it off. Her soft moans of pleasure and fingers furrowing in his hair shot hot currents of desire through his hardening body. Panting with need and restraint, Steve turned his mouth aside and rested his forehead on hers.

Don’t do it, man. Play fair
.

No matter how badly Steve wanted to brand her with his scent, touch and kiss her until her lips were swollen and all desire for Gabe left her forever, he wouldn’t. He watched his hand at her throat rapidly rise and fall with her respiration. Her pupils were dilated, eyes soft with desire. She was as turned on as he. He could pick her up and carry her to bed right now and make love until they were both exhausted and sore. But he wouldn’t. Not this morning.

Forcing his fist open, Steve stretched his fingers wide, releasing her robe. With trembling, damp hands, he meticulously smoothed the wrinkled fabric and slowly straightened. He looked into her luminous eyes, soft with passion. “I love you.”

Jenny drove down the road toward Saugatuck. Windows down, the wind threaded through her hair like comforting fingers, tingling her scalp. She glanced at the passenger’s seat, half expecting to see Gabe slouched there as she had the last time she’d gone on a road trip. The long, solitary drive comforted her. She hadn’t been away since Gabe’s death.

Saugatuck was definitely a summer community. People were everywhere, walking along the roads, playing on the beaches or in the water, boating, or riding bikes. You name it; they were everywhere. She preferred the sleepiness of the fall.

Steve’s declaration of love and his ultimatum had taken Jenny through the full gamut of emotions during the past week. Needing time to think, she’d cancelled her appointment for the egg extraction. The staff had been surprised and, unable to come up with a satisfactory explanation for the doctor, Jenny had pretended to be ill with a virus.

Incapable of thinking with Steve right next door or in the house filled with memories of both men, Jenny packed up Ritz and left. Without a word to Steve or anybody else, she’d run.

Jenny turned from the coast and drove leisurely inland. A couple of miles from the inn, she slowed, pulled onto the shoulder, and glided to a stop. Eyes never leaving the pavement, she studied the wide black skid lines still marking the road nearly a year later.

Ignoring Ritz’s high-pitched bark, Jenny turned the ignition off and left the car. She walked to the end of the skid marks and squatted, touching the ground where Gabe had lain. As if a ghost, the large black car seemed to materialize, idling in front of her. She smelled the burning rubber and exhaust, and heard the young man’s horrified voice.