McCallum Quintuplets (17 page)

But right then, she looked incredibly lovely. Her face was thinner, her eyes more pronounced from dark shadows that lingered there, her lips full and inviting. Her breasts were heavier, fuller, the nipples darker, and her waist wasn't as narrow as it had been, her hips rounder, but she had never been sexier to him.

He went closer, cupped the weight of her breasts in his hands and felt the response, the tightening of her nipples, a small shudder, then a sharp intake of air. All they had was now, and he wanted her. His body tightened with anticipation, and he slipped off his shorts before he eased her back on the huge bed, into the coolness of mussed linen until he was over her.

It seemed an eternity since they'd been together because they both wanted it, because they both craved it. He felt her softness and her heat. His response was instantaneous and almost painful. Her arms were around his
neck. Her hips lifted to him. There was no gradual building to this point. There was a raw urgency between them, a need that had been there for so long that Adam didn't know when it had started.

He felt her, tested her, then entered her, and in a flash of pleasure, he felt whole. As if he'd been broken and lost, then been healed and found. He moved in her, felt her rise to meet him with each thrust. Her legs were wrapped around his hips, keeping him in her. As he moved in her, the feelings flooded through him, filling him, overwhelming him, and for that moment in time, it was all right. Everything was all right.

Until a cry pierced the softness around them, then another cry mingled with it, and when Maggie froze under him, he knew it was the beginning of the end.

“Oh, the babies,” she whispered, motionless, and lowered her legs. He didn't dare move, because if he did, he knew he'd take her, and he didn't want it to be this way.

“They're okay. You said Grace is there,” he whispered, kissing her quickly and hard against her soft lips before he drew back. He prayed that she would accept it, that she'd stay right here.

But when he saw her face in the shadows, he knew. He felt his heart sink. She eased away, whispering, “It's Gracie and she's been fussy all night, and maybe it is teeth.”

How she knew the cries of one baby from another always stunned him. But right then, he didn't care. She framed his face with both her hands. “I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm really sorry. I'll…I'll be right back. I promise.”

He didn't want her to go. He wanted to scream and force her to stay, but he rolled to one side and didn't look as she got out of bed. His arms were empty and the air around him was cool, almost cold on the dampness on his skin. He looked at her as she grabbed the T-shirt and
tugged it on. “I'll just check,” she said, then climbed on the bed, and for an instant he thought she was teasing and wasn't leaving.

Until she was over him and kissing him quickly, then drawing back. “Save my place.”

“Let Grace do it,” he said before he could stop himself.

“They need me, their mother,” she said, hesitating. “You know how I feel, that I want to be there for them…always.”

He rolled away from her and sat on the side of the bed, with his back to her. His body ached with his need of her, and he didn't do a thing to hide it. “And you're going to make damn certain you'll never be like your mother.”

“That's not fair,” she muttered from behind him. “She walked out on me long before I even understood. That's over. I'm doing what I want to do, what I've always wanted to do, just love my babies.”

“And you do. But you need help. You can't do this all alone,” he said, twisting around, but she was going, halfway to the door.

Then she was gone, the door closing behind her, and he was alone. Again. He reached over and flipped off the monitor, shutting off the cries, and he fell back on the bed.

He ached physically from being so close to Maggie and being denied. He ached emotionally from feeling so isolated. It was there, that old desire and need. Something he'd tried to repress since Maggie had started to spot early in the pregnancy. Just holding her and loving her had been enough for a very long time, but it wasn't now. He wanted more, and she wasn't there to give it to him.

He rolled onto his side, got out of bed and headed for the bathroom. The discomfort in his body was nothing
compared to the discomfort in his soul, and when he stepped under the hot water in the shower, he shivered. He couldn't be losing Maggie. He couldn't be. But somewhere deep inside, he knew he was.

Maggie hurried to the bedroom after helping Grace settle the baby, but Adam wasn't there. She heard the shower and thought of going into the bathroom and climbing in with Adam. But she was so tired. She thought she'd lie down for a bit, wait for him to come back, then take up where they'd left off.

So she climbed into bed, reached for his pillow to pull it to her chest. Hugging it, she listened to the running water. She closed her eyes and imagined him in the shower, the water streaming over him, and the idea of joining him was there again. The idea of touching his sleek body, of having him run his hands over her, was so tempting. She'd go in, she thought, she'd surprise him, and that was the last thought she had until morning. Someplace between her idea and the act of getting out of bed and doing it, she fell asleep. Then Grace was there, touching her shoulder.

She squinted at the older woman who had the ability to look remarkably fresh even after a rough night, then twisted to see the clock, shocked that it read almost ten o'clock. She shoved herself to a sitting position, felt the empty spot beside her when she pressed her hand flat on
the sheet to balance herself and knew Adam was long gone. “What's happening?”

“You've slept most of the morning away, sweetie, and I was starting to get worried.”

She sat straighter, sleep falling away completely. “The babies—?”

“They're fine, just fine, but I was a bit worried when you slept through our morning course of cries and feeding.”

“Oh, shoot, I'm sorry,” she said, scrambling to the side of the bed to sit up and rake her fingers through her hair. She'd never slept through the morning production before.

“Oh, I'm not complaining. I think you needed the sleep, and Adam said not to wake you up.”

“Adam? When…when did he leave?”

“Early, maybe eight o'clock.”

She'd slept through everything, and she was so angry at herself she could spit. “I guess I was really tired,” she muttered, standing to stretch and get her bearings. “I don't know how I could have slept through the babies crying.”

“They were unusually loud this morning. Must be teeth, the way I figure it. They aren't usually so fussy.”

“Maybe I need to turn the monitor up,” she said, turning to reach for the volume switch on the monitor by the light on the nightstand, then stopped. The red light wasn't glowing. It wasn't on. She reached for the button, pressed it in, and she could hear Louise in the nursery singing “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” in a painfully cheery voice.

“How did it get turned off? I wouldn't have—” She bit her lip as she remembered the way Adam hated the monitor and wanted her to turn it off. “Adam turned it off.”

“And you needed the break,” Grace said, crossing her arms over the blue housedress she was wearing. “He's a good man, Maggie.”

Grace worshiped Adam. There was no way Maggie could say what she really thought right then. So, she settled for saying, “He's sneaky,” then turned and looked for her robe. She shrugged on the white terry cloth and did up the belt. “Are the munchkins okay?”

“I told you, they're doing fine. I just came in to tell you I'm heading off home. Douglas needs some things, so I'll be back tomorrow sometime. Meanwhile, Louise is here, and you know you can call me any time you need me, no matter what?”

“Sure, and thanks for last night.”

Grace glanced at the monitor, then at Maggie. “Thank your husband,” she said and, with a smile and a nod, left.

“I'll do that,” Maggie said, then sank down on the bed and reached for the phone. She dialed Adam's private number, and it only rang once before he answered. “McCallum here.”

“Well, McCallum, this is Mrs. McCallum.”

“Good morning. Sleep well?”

“Why wouldn't I, when you turned off the monitor?”

“Did I do that?”

“You know you did, and I wish you hadn't. You know I need to have it on. I can't just turn it off like that.”

“After last night, I think you should.”

“The babies were only up twice last night,” she said.

“It only took one time to—” He took a deep breath, and she could hear him exhale roughly. “Sure ruined it for me.”

“I told you to wait for me.”

“I was in the shower, and when I got out you were sound asleep.”

“I'm sorry.” She felt heat in her face at the memory of what she'd wanted to do but had obviously been too tired to do. “I heard you and I thought I'd wait for you.”

His voice lowered to an intimate level. “You could have come in to get me so I knew you were there.”

“You could have woken me,” she countered.

“You were too tired. And I have to get back to work.”

“I'll see you tonight?”

“I guess so, if the babies sleep and you don't.” Before she could say anything to that, he added, “Have a good day and kiss the babies for me.”

The line clicked, then buzzed. She looked at the phone, slowly hung it up and whispered, “I love you.”

 

A
DAM STAYED
at the office until almost eleven o'clock and was ready to leave when the guard from the front desk called and told him he had a visitor. For a minute he thought it was Maggie coming to get him. He'd called earlier and spoken to Louise. Maggie had been busy rocking Jackson, so he'd left a message not to wait up for him, that he'd be late. Then he'd hung up and dug into work, anything to make him forget for a while how disjointed his life felt lately.

“Your father's on his way up,” the man said on the phone.

“Thanks,” Adam murmured and hung up, shocked that the old man would be anywhere near the business section of the city at this time of night. He was usually at his mansion, as far from here as he could get.

Adam sank back in his swivel chair in the beige-on-beige office, pushed the stack of papers away and waited. He knew his dad didn't just visit. There was something going on.

Jackson McCallum barely knocked on the outer door
before striding into the office. Adam saw a fit man of fifty-eight, dressed conservatively in a dark suit that set off his thick gray hair. A man who had lost himself in his work when Adam's mother, Emily, had died, he was a different man now. Work was still there, but he was also a doting granddad to Caleb's quads, celebrating the finalized adoption of the babies, and then there was Brianna's triplets. The man had a full life, never seeming to take a moment to breathe, but he seemed happier then he'd ever been before.

Adam stood as the older man came into the room. As always, he wasn't quite sure how to react to his dad's presence. The softening in his father hadn't extended to him exactly. What should he do, shake his hand? Smile and nod? Hug him? No. He did the usual, by simply saying, “Dad? Good to see you.”

Jackson nodded, crossed to the desk and looked at Adam. “I thought you'd be here.” He glanced around the cluttered office, then his hazel eyes met Adam's gaze. “I'm afraid I was a bad teacher,” he said on a sigh as he sank down in one of two leather chairs that faced the desk.

Adam took his seat and leaned back. “How so?”

“You don't know when to work and when to go home,” Jackson said, looking decidedly grim as he spoke. “Took me years to figure that one out.”

“I'm busy,” Adam murmured, not willing to go home to an empty bed and a wife so exhausted she couldn't think straight. “Lots to do.”

Jackson and Adam had never been really close. In fact, Adam had probably been closer to Douglas, Grace's husband, who'd worked as Jackson's chauffeur for years until his retirement a few years ago, but he'd always known his father was there. That he was proud of him in his own way. But Adam always thought his father had never
stopped grieving for his mother, that grief had occupied most of his mind and soul. When his father spoke again, he realized how much the older man cared and how much he understood what was going on with his son.

Jackson looked around the office, shook his head when he glanced at the wall clock, then looked right at Adam and said, “You've got no right being here. You're losing her.”

Adam was shocked by his father's words, but he didn't have to ask, “Who?” or “What do you mean?” He wasn't going to give any defense for being here and not at home. His father knew what he was doing. “I don't want to do that,” he admitted.

His father looked almost pained. “Then don't let it happen.”

“What can I do? How can I rip her away from those babies?” He stopped. He didn't want to do that, just to have her the way he had before. Just the two of them for a moment in time.

“You love her, don't you, son?”

“You know I do.”

“Then tell her. Show her. She needs it as much as you do, and if you let it go, maybe there won't be another time.” Jackson grimaced. Then whatever he was thinking about was gone, and he stood to look down at Adam. “Your babies are a downright miracle, the way you and your brother and sister were and still are. And their kids…” He shook his head in wonder. “God, miracles. But so is having that one person who loves you and you love. That one person who fills your life and…” He'd stopped, then exhaled roughly. “Get away for a few days together, and remember why you started all this in the first place. Maybe go to the cabin at the lake. It's empty and it's private.”

“I wish we could,” Adam murmured.

“Don't wish for it, just do it. Grace will be there for the kids, and you can be there for Maggie. You make it happen with your wife. Just do it.”

Adam looked at Jackson and felt closer to his father then he ever had in his life. “Okay,” he said and meant it. “I will do it.”

Jackson nodded, and without another word, he left. As the door shut behind him, Adam reached for his coat. He was leaving, too. He had a lot of thinking to do and some calls to make.

 

M
AGGIE DIDN'T KNOW
when Adam came home. She'd fallen asleep, and he hadn't tried to wake her. She only knew that when she woke to the cries in the morning, around seven o'clock, his side of the bed was mussed but empty.

She got her robe and headed for the nursery, surprised to find Grace there with Louise. After the morning rituals of feeding, bathing, changing and holding, Louise stayed with the babies while Maggie and Grace headed down to the kitchen for coffee.

“You're here early,” Maggie said to Grace as the two of them walked into the kitchen at the back of the sprawling house.

“I had things to do, so I thought, since I was up and around, I'd come on by for a while.”

As they stepped into the cavernous kitchen, Maggie looked at Grace. “Did you see Adam this morning before he went to work?”

Grace crossed to the white ceramic counter, heading for the coffeemaker with its glowing red light and stack of heavy mugs by it. “He didn't go to work,” Grace said as
she poured coffee, then turned with the mugs in her hands and motioned with her head toward the breakfast room at the rear of the kitchen. “Let's sit and talk for a bit.”

Maggie didn't argue. She had a sense that something was up, but she didn't have a clue what it could be. The babies were fine—a bit fussy, but safe and sound in the nursery. But Grace coming in early like this wasn't usual. And if Adam wasn't at work, where was he?

Maggie crossed to the glass-topped table, sank down in a wicker chair and reached for the mug Grace held out to her. “Yes, I think we need to talk,” she said before she took a sip of the hot, strong liquid.

She set the mug on the tabletop as Grace settled in the chair across from her. “First of all, what do you mean, Adam isn't at work?” she asked.

“He didn't go to work,” Grace said before taking her own sip of coffee.

“Then where is he?”

“He's in the den. Said he was going to make some calls, last I heard.”

Maggie cradled the warm ceramic mug in both hands. “He has lots of work to do. He didn't get home until very late last night…I think. I just assumed, when he wasn't there this morning…”

“You assumed what?”

She was startled by Adam's voice coming from behind her. The coffee in the mug sloshed slightly but didn't spill. Turning, she saw Adam striding into the breakfast room. He wasn't in his suit and tie. He wore a pair of his favorite jeans, an open-neck chambray shirt and the boots that were usually in the back of the closet. They were old, scuffed, worn at the heels. They were his favorite kick-around boots.

“I…I assumed you were at work,” she said, sitting
back to look at him as he neared the table. “You weren't there when I woke up, and I thought you'd left without waking me.”

“I wasn't about to wake you up, and I didn't go to work.” He held both hands out at his sides. “As you can see. No suit. No briefcase.” He tucked the tips of his fingers in the pockets of his jeans and rocked on the balls of his feet toward her. “I'm not going in today or for the next few days.”

“Adam, what are you doing?”

He ignored the question and looked at Grace. “Any more of that great coffee?”

Grace motioned to the main kitchen area. “Plenty in there. Help yourself.”

“Sounds good.” He glanced at Maggie, his expression unreadable, adding to her sense of something coming. “We'll talk in a minute,” he said, then turned and went after his coffee.

Maggie looked at Grace, but the older woman was staring out the window. “Douglas isn't going to be a happy camper,” Grace murmured, a Texas twang creeping into her soft voice. “Looks like rain's coming.”

Douglas, Grace's husband, was as tender as anything with the babies. He'd been there for Adam growing up, when Adam's father had worked to fill the void of losing his wife. “Grace, what's going on?” she asked, the weather not much of a concern to her at the moment. Not when her workaholic husband looked like a ranch hand instead of the corporate lawyer he usually was during the week.