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Authors: Carla Doolin

BOOK: Spitfire (Puffin Cove)
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And turned around
.

He stood in faded denim and wrinkled white at the counter
.

And opened his arms
.

She cried his name softly, dropped her bags, and ran to him, launching herself into his fierce embrace
.

"
I'm sorry," she cried. "Baby. Baby. I'm so sorry, my love. Please, forgive me. I love you, Kane. I love you so much."

He couldn
't hold her tight enough. When he saw her coming down the escalator a sob had ripped through his chest. The tension in his muscles went lax, and he didn't think his legs would hold him. And now she was here, in his arms. And he was never, ever, going to let her go.

"
I'll only forgive ye on one condition," he growled into her ear.

She pulled bac
k and gave him her sparkling emerald eyes.

"
Anything, my love. Anything," she whispered.

"
Don't you ever,
ever
leave me again.
Ever!"
He gave her a little shake.

"
I promise, Kane, with all my heart and soul. I'll never leave you again."

"
Ah, Laura love." He pulled her tight to him again, his heart thudding against her breast. He had her back. He had her back. Thanks be to God. "Ye near t' killed me when ye left."

"
I'm so sorry, Kane. I was crazy. Stupid. I'm going to make it up to you. Today, and every day."

"
Fer the rest of our lives," he said, as he slid his hand from her hair and into his jeans pocket.

His eyes never left hers as he slipped
his other arm from her back, trailed it down her arm, and held her left hand. Her right flew to her mouth to press trembling lips, checked tears now spilling over onto her cheeks, eyes crinkled with glowing joy. He slid his ring onto her finger, and wrapped his long fingers around her hand, feeling the pulse in her wrist beating, beating.

"
Marry me, Laura love. I can't live without ye. I love ye more than life itself."

"
Yes," she breathed. "Oh, God yes, Kane."

He felt t
he skittering of her lifeblood slow and thump, and her breath whispered through him like salvation. She framed his cheeks with her small, trembling hands, and laid her soft lips on his. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, feeling her precious body quivering against him.

"
I love you so much. So much. I was miserable without you," she cried into his neck.

He rubbed his face into her curls, and said
softly, "Laura love. Darlin', ye've got t' promise me. I don't ever want t' hear another word about babies. Promise me this ends now."

He
pulled her head back and looked into her eyes again, expecting that little flash of sorrow, but wanting to get it out right here, right now. For good.

What he saw was a twinkle, that grew to a luminous emerald glow.

"
I don't think I can make that promise, my love. I know you said that you don't need babies in your life to be happy, but I'm kinda hoping you'll want this one." She drew his hand down to her soft belly, and pressed it there.

A wave of tingles washed through him
. "Laura? My God. Laura?"

Kane looked down to his hand then back up into
Laura's eyes. She nodded giddily. And shock bloomed to dawning joy.

He whooped,
and crushed her to him, twirling them in dizzying circles on the floor of the St. John's airport, then quickly set her back down, with a terrified look in his eyes.

Laura
threw her head back and laughed, looking into the blue, blue eyes of her beloved.

Epilogue

 

The drizzly October morning invited them to stay snuggled in bed, and they willingly obliged
. When he had asked her last month if she would have come back to him if not for the baby, she had replied, "Baby, if it wasn't for this little alien that has commandeered my body, I don't think I would have ever been so stupid to have left you in the first place. Welcome to pregnancy hormones one-oh-one." To which he had replied, "Jaysus Christ."

Now, laying in bed with him, she was ecstatic that her insanity had mellowed to mild lunacy
.

"
The beta HCG was really high when Dr. Shilling ran the tests. That meant that the pregnancy was good and strong. But I'll be glad to have that ultrasound done today. The one she showed me in her office only showed the clips. She thought I was around four months then, that would make it five now."

He ran a hand across her fuller breasts, puckering her nipples, eliciting a shiver of desire
. He trailed his hand low, lazily drawing it over her thickened belly.

"Our babe's in there
. God, Laura. Five months. T'would mean we conceived in Twillingate. Oops." He smiled at her giggle, sharing the remembrance in her eyes, splaying his hand wide. "More special than we even knew, eh Spitfire?"

She propped her head on her arm, and watched her husband roam his hand over their baby, tracking the path of the ring she
had placed on his finger. Every time she looked at it, she thought
mine…my husband…my Kane…forever
.

"
Everything is more special since you, my love." She fingered a curl on his forehead, imagining a little dark haired child with its father's dimple. Then a frown marred her brow. "I'm just worried that I haven't felt it move yet."

She
had been deeply relieved that the maternal triple screen last week had come back negative. No major anomalies. But Kane had blind faith.

"Darlin', stop that
nasty head o' yers. Everythin's goin' t' be perfect. After all, our babe's already beaten all the odds merely by existin'."

***

Dr. Ian McTavish had been hand-picked by George. He told Laura that the young obstetrician had done some training under him before he retired, and George had been impressed by his practice. He followed his career, pleased with his performance and his unblemished record. And so, with George's recommendation, Laura and Kane entrusted him with the care of her and their unborn child.

"
You're measuring about twenty-two weeks in fundal height," Ian told her as he snapped off his purple exam gloves. "Your internal is fine."

His nurse
moved to the door and motioned for Kane to come in as she went out. Kane took Laura's hand and brought it to his lips, brushing her knuckles with his soft kiss. "Longest ten minutes o' me life," he breathed.

God
. He couldn't seem to get enough of her. And it
thrilled
her. He sat on the squat metal stool by her side, and his Celtic blue eyes twinkled as they ran over her in the pale patient gown, her legs covered by a white cotton sheet, her rounding belly exposed, framed in between. He dragged a finger down her side, like a kid in front of a cake topped with mounds of fluffy frosting, helpless not to touch.

Ian
rolled the ultrasound machine to the exam table, and Laura said, "I'm worried that I haven't felt any movement yet. I should have by now, shouldn't I, Ian?" She narrowed her eyes at Kane's rolling ones.

"
Yes, probably. But don't borrow trouble." Then she giggled as Kane raised his know-it-all eyebrows.

Ian
continued. "Could be any number of reasons. Let's just have a look, shall we?" He squirted warmed gel onto the ultrasound head and the screen lit up in shades of grey and white as he applied the wand to her abdomen. "There. See that little white blip? That's the heart beat. Good and strong."

Laura
giggled again, giddy with excitement at her first glimpse of the life growing inside her, and watched the smile deepen on Kane's face.

"
Our babe," he whispered through his bemused grin. "What's that thingy there, doc?" He pointed a finger to a spot on the screen.

"
Ah. Good eye. That would be the other one." Ian smiled at her, then Kane. And knowledge dawned.

"
Oth...other one?" Laura squeaked.

"
Mm-hm. That would explain no movement yet." He rolled his fingers around a ball on the instrument panel, and made a series of clicks on the keyboard. "Looks like twin A here is about fifteen weeks in size, twin B sixteen. You should feel them fluttering in about two or three weeks. Let me know if you don't. You're all set here. Get dressed and come on out when you're ready."

H
e smiled, wiped the gel from Laura's abdomen and headed out of the exam room. He could have been reciting the phone book for all she knew. She was oblivious to everything but Kane's wide smile and the picture on the ultrasound screen. She never noticed the doctor's departure.

"
Twins," Laura breathed. "Kane, you gave me twins."

Her husband rose from the stool,
leaned over her, and kissed her belly in two places. Then he raised his head, pierced her with the power of all the love in his beautiful blue eyes, took her face in his hands, and kissed the lips of his Spitfire.

 

In the outer office, Ian McTavish chuckled as he heard the lady's jubilant war whoop, and the deep rumbling laugh of her husband.

 

The End

 

Dear Readers,

 

I hope you enjoyed reading Laura and Kane's story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I never knew what it was like to fall in love with characters born of my own imagination. Now I do. And it...is...awesome! If you so desire, please feel free to “turn the page” and read the first chapter of Jillian and Landon's story,
Sweetness
.

God bless, and happy reading.

Carla Doolin 

 

Coming Soon: Sweetness

 

Chapter One

 

Every corded muscle and sinewy tendon strained as he punished the leg press machine. Veins in his hands and forearms stood out in thick cords, his face flushed and intense. She circled him, shrewdly checking his form, and he watched her with a smirk as she ran a frankly appraising look up his slick, muscled thighs, knowing that she was anticipating the moment when he finished his reps and she could admire what she frequently told him were his smooth, round, nearly voluptuous assets.

"Come on, baby,
" she crooned. "Gimme five more. Just five."

The sultry brunette threw her head back and laughed as he shot her a furious scowl.

"Ohhhh no. Don't you dare slow down." Her tone intensified, and she ordered, "Five more! Wanna make it ten? There you go. That's it, b'y. Almost there." And as he growled through his last push, she hissed, "Yessssss!"

"You goddamn nazi bitch
. You're gonna fuckin' kill me one of these days," Landon grunted as he rolled off the machine and collapsed to his back on the floor, one knee raised, sweat slicked abs clenched, chest heaving. He wiped a towel over his dripping face and groped around at his side until he located a bottle of water, draining it in one long drink.

"Ah,
Landon," she chuckled. "The day you can't handle me there won't be enough o' you to pray over." She smiled wickedly, angled a pair of hot, provocative eyes at him, and tossed him his t-shirt. Then she wandered over to check on her other client doing reps at the pec deck.

Landon
rolled up to his feet, strolled by his trainer on quivering pins, and snapped her lycra encased ass with his towel. "Thanks for working me over, Viv. See you next week."

"Want a little company after I close up shop?"

"Nope, gonna be a good boy tonight. But thanks, though."

"Anytime, lover boy," she sighed.

He flashed his megawatt smile at her and wished belatedly that he hadn't, as her openly inviting eyes never left him while he went through his stretches at the station near the change room door. Maybe he should consider stretching
in
the change room next time.

He ran his soapy hands over his trembling, exhausted muscles, letting the hot needles of water beat some life back into him
. God, but that felt good. The half hour drive to and from St. John's was so worth it. There wasn't any way he could get this good a work-out at home. And Viv was a top-notch professional. Really knew her stuff. In more ways than one. He had hit that more than a few times in a very mutually satisfying, no-strings-attached relationship over the last year or so. But lately she had been getting a little too clingy. Time to nip that one in the bud.

Ever since he was a teenager, he had carefully cultivated a way about him, an ability to slip in and out of casual relationships like a thief in the night, with hardly ever a snag
.

And that's just the way he liked it.

He threw his gym bag into the passenger seat of his sleek, electric blue '84 Shelby Charger and pulled out of the fitness center's parking lot. It would be good to hit the sheets tonight. It had been a long, exhausting week.

Cresting the hill, he considered the lights of Puffin Cove glittering in the snow-blanketed coastal valley before him
. Sure not very many of them, he thought. One of these days he was going to blow this little podunk town. Sometimes he couldn't believe that he was still here. For almost half his life he had wanted to get the hell out of Dodge. Something kept pushing him to move on, make a new life. And that same something kept him anchored there.

It's not that it was a bad place
. It was just so fucking...small. Everyone knew everyone. And everyone's small-town business. The whole town was made up of happy little tradition-steeped families, all strung together by blood or history or love. Landon had a strong, connected place here, and yet no place at all.

Jesus
. He couldn't imagine hooking up with some nice little gal, nice little church wedding, two point four kids, and a dog. Well, maybe the dog.

Kane had it made, the lucky bastard
. Except for the dead wife and kid thing. But last year the best thing that ever happened to his buddy blew through the door of Sweeney's, and Landon would be hard pressed to find a happier man now. Shit like that just didn't happen to him. Just as well. One woman? For the rest of his life? No sirree, bob.

Besides, look what happened to
Will. Had the nice little wife, zero point four kid, and boom. Dead.
Shit
. Why did he have to go and think about Will? Just made him think about that menace, Jillian.

He drove slower than usual down the snow-packed road into town, past Snow's Grocery and the Bluebird Café, the eerie glow of after-hours lighting somehow reassuring
. As he neared town center he smiled. Ah, Sweeney's. Still a living pulse in the heart of the old village tonight. The sparkle of tiffany through the windows almost lured him in. He could see bobbing heads and glinting glasses, knowing that he would likely find his dad and Tom Snow arguing over the hockey game, that he could easily slip into homey conversation if he'd had a mind to. But gone were the days when he would find Nick and Will in there to raise hell with. And that was just damned sad.

A sly, uncomfortable moment of introspection squeezed hard in his gut
. Was he really going to be stuck here for the rest of his life? The last bachelor standing? He used to be the life of the goddam party, a party that went on and on, with barely a moment to breathe before the next good time rolled along. Why did he suddenly feel so
trapped
? Life had been humming along just fine, thanks. Was it the threat of thirty looming? Nick's upcoming wedding? Or the nagging remnants of the horror of one fucked up summer?

He just didn't know
.

But that unsettled feeling, the one that he had been mentally squashing like a bug for months now, was becoming a whole lot stronger.

He pulled into the lot at his place, Blood's Garage to the town, and killed the engine. Well, it
was
a damned fine business. His grandfather had started it over fifty years before, and his dad poured heart and soul into making it an integral cog in the wheel of the small, thriving village. In spite of himself, Landon had gravitated to it, thanks to some weird genetic predisposition, and a need to drive away demons.

The hey-days of cavorting with
Nick and Will as kids had careened into spending weekends and summers kicking around the garage, learning the ropes under the surprisingly patient, sometimes demanding tutelage of his dad. And so here he was, quietly proud and satisfied with his business, surrounded by people who cared for him, yet alone, stuck out in the middle of butt-fuck, Newfoundland.

Heav
ing a frustrated sigh at the constricting confusion whirling in his head, he patted the dashboard of his one and only ever steady girl. The old four-by-four currently standing at attention in the next parking spot was a better bet for getting around half the year, but it just didn't exude the same persona. Especially when he went down to the city. So the car he had taken tonight, the one he drove whenever possible, the only acceptable love of his life, was his dad's old Shelby.

She had been his quietly healing obsession most of his teenage-hood, the junk yard cadaver upon which he had honed his skills during those long years of angst and pain and secret longings
. And even to this day, he spent a great chunk of his free time keeping her engine purring and her body beautiful.

The shop had one car up on the hoist and one on deck, so tonight he would have to leave his baby out in the elements
. A successful business did have its drawbacks. The idea again snuck into his brain about building on. But that would mean more permanence. With another irritated sigh, he climbed the stairs around back of the garage and opened the door to his apartment.

Jesus
, Mary and Joseph. What a fuckin' mess.

Landon
was usually meticulous. In everything. He kept his shop pristine, constantly harping on his apprentice, Brook, to keep the tools shiny and properly stored, the floors spotless, the bathroom antiseptic. How had he let his home go to such filth?

Yeah, he knew
.
Burning the candle at both ends, Blood
. He had been punishing himself at the gym daily, preferring it lately to perpetuating his perennial success with the ladies. Apparently his fitness regime had taken precedence over girls
and
keeping up with the housekeeping.

Promising himself he would muck the place out tomorrow, he dumped his rather putrid bag at the door, snagged a beer from the fridge, and shoved a mostly empty pizza box off the couch onto the floor
. Slumping into the sweet-spot and swinging his feet up to thud onto the coffee table, he hit the button on his answering machine. He skipped over his mom's voice chirping him for not coming up to the house for dinner more often, scrawled a reminder onto the pizza box on the floor for his dental appointment next week, and smiled as Laura reminded him of his duty as godfather to attend the twins' baptism on Sunday.

It took a special occasion to get him to church, but this was definitely one of those
. He was crazy about those two little monsters. When Kane Downey had married the lovely Laura Spencer last fall, they had made him put on a monkey suit and hold the rings. Then promptly announced that he was going to be an honorary uncle. Times two. Wicked cool. The surprisingly touching wedding and floor-busting reception was the community highlight of the year. The only downside that day had been the constant presence of the maid-of-honour. Jillian Snow Bainbridge of the perpetually snarling countenance. That was the one woman he just couldn't abide. She had been the bane of his existence when they were kids, and had made it an Olympic sport over the years. Every time he looked at her she would sneer at him, mouth pursed up like she'd just bit into something sour. And he took great pains to keep the scowl on her face.

***

"Geez, ma! Do we hafta take Jill?" Nick whined as he stuffed sandwiches and a cardboard carton of worms into his backpack.

Maggie
held his fishing rod just out of reach. Hard as he tried he couldn't snag it. Next year, b'y, he'd be tall enough to snatch shit from his mom that she held over his head.

"If you're taking this, you're taking her."

"Aw, ma. She's such a
pain
. She never shuts up. And her and Landon're always fightin'. Only one can stand her is Will." Nick stomped to the door and jerked his slicker off the hook, his face a mixture of belligerence, frustration and resignation.

"Honey, she's not that bad
. She gets lonely on the weekends. And she idolizes you, Nicky. Give her a break, wontcha?"

"Why can't she play with her own friends
? Or stay here with you? Do girl sh-stuff. She'd like girl stuff better, Ma," Nick wheedled. This was just gonna suck balls. They had
plans
, man!

He and the guys had lifted a skin mag out of the men's washroom down at
Landon's dad's garage. They had carefully secreted it, promising to wait until the weekend when they could all look at it together down at Doper's Pond. Now his shitty, nose-pickin' little sister would send up the alarm the minute she caught a whiff of it. Shit. They were going to have to come up with another plan.

He had put a lot of work into confiscating it, the mad scramble coming just short of the tantalizing, heart-stopping unraveling of the centre-fold. He had jammed it shut and shoved it up the back of Will's sweatshirt just in time, as Landon's dad hauled his head out from under the hood of the car he was tuning up to holler
what the hell're ya at
?

And that night his mom almost found it under the mattress when she started to change his sheets
.

Nick
howled and slapped his knees when he told Landon and Will about it at recess the next day, imitating his ma's mouth flapping like a carp as he had shoved her out of the way to offer to change his own sheets. He had missed the narrowing of her eyes and chewing of her cheek.

"
Jill likes to go fishin' just as much as you, Nicky. Just take her today, 'kay? I gotta finish these curtains for Mrs. Sullivan, and your dad's still down to the store. I'll make your favourite for supper," she bribed.

"Spaghetti and meatballs?" His head jerked up, eyes bright
.

"Yes, b'y
. We got a deal?"

"Oh, alright
. But I want extra meatballs. And this is the last time, Ma. The absolute last. The guys are gonna cut me out if I keep lettin' her come around."

 

"Hi, Will! Hi, Landon!" Jill sang as she skipped down the hill in front of Nick, fishing pole gripped tightly in one hand, lugging a thermos of Tang in the other. Flaxen, poker-straight hair swung, and sky-blue eyes glinted with devilish glee.

"Aw, geez, Snow, what's she doin' here?"
Landon groused.

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