THE TEXAS WILDCATTER'S BABY (15 page)

“Now, you,” she insisted.

And as it turned out, he couldn’t deny her that, either. Heart racing, he lifted her on top of him, eager for mutual gratification. Slowly, gently, he guided her onto him. She raised herself up a little, wrapped her hand around him, and took him deep. Their eyes met as they moved in perfect synchrony. And then they kissed again, his thumb sliding over the spot where they joined. She came again, which he liked, because it meant she felt so much...he felt so much...and he immediately followed her. Satisfaction roared through them and, still trembling, she pressed her face to his throat.

Aware of everything that had changed between them—and all that, to his frustration, still hadn’t—he continued to hold her close. She clung to him, murmuring her pleasure, and eventually sliding right back into sleep. A deeper contentment—coupled with a soul-deep worry—followed. And as he held her, Rand couldn’t help but think of the look on his wife’s face back in the steakhouse bar.

For a moment when publicly pressed about why she had married him, she’d had that deer-caught-in-the-headlights look.

Rand hoped she didn’t feel as trapped as it had momentarily seemed. Because the truth was, their marriage was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He hoped by the time their baby was born, she would feel the same way.

Chapter Thirteen

The following evening Rand walked in the door and did a double take. His gaze swept the nicely set table and cottage living area. Both were neat as a pin. He followed his nose and headed straight for the stove. “What’s all this?” He peeked at the chicken roasting in the oven.

Proud of her handiwork, Ginger flashed him a sassy look and brought out a salad from the fridge. “What do you think it is?” She shook the bottle of homemade vinaigrette and poured it over the mixture of fresh raspberries, almonds and spinach leaves, then carried it to the table.

Pleasure lit his face. “You’re cooking dinner for me?”

Ginger winked and went back to fill the serving platter. “I know. Amazing, isn’t it?”

He washed up and helped her carry everything to the table. He paused to hold out her chair for her. “You were supposed to be resting.”

Ginger wrinkled her nose. “For me, this
is
resting.”

Smiling affectionately, he sat opposite her. “That’s probably true.”

“And we do have to eat,” she noted as they filled their plates with tender slices of chicken and roasted root vegetables. “So what better than food I’ve prepared for us?”

“Did I bring the right woman home from the hospital?”

Ginger grinned. “Funny.”

“Really. All kidding aside, what’s going on?” Sobering, he paused to search her face. “Did you find out you won the bid?”

Tension stiffened her spine. “No. There’s no news on that front.”

“Then...?” He met her gaze and the air seemed to crackle around them.

Ginger had promised herself that even though their situation was changing due to the baby, they would not have to alter anything about themselves. When the truth was, they had already begun to change, for the better. Aware they were on the brink of some sort of mutual epiphany, she shrugged. “I thought about everything you’ve done for me since we got married. All the food you’ve brought in, the laundry you pretty much finished by yourself, not to mention going clothes shopping with me and bolstering my spirits.”

“And the sex,” he interjected, his eyes gleaming mischievously. He lifted her wrist to his lips and tenderly kissed the inside. “Don’t forget the great sex.”

Tingling with need, Ginger returned his flirtatious glance. “There’s no way I’m forgetting the great sex. Not. A. Single. Minute. Of. It.” She punctuated each word with evocative meaning.

He grinned and leaned across the table to kiss her on the mouth. “Exactly what I want to hear.”

When they eventually pulled apart and went back to enjoying their meal, Ginger continued. “I’m serious, though. I think you’ve been a much better husband to me than I’ve been a wife to you.” She felt guilty about it.

“That’s not true. You’re carrying my baby.”

“Our baby,” Ginger corrected thickly.

And it was a part of her and a part of him and a precious symbol of all their life would one day be...

“You’re right.” Rand’s glance drifted over her barely discernible baby bump. “It’s
our
baby.” Contentment flowed between them as their eyes met.

Their serious mood intensifying, Rand bared his soul. “You’ve also made me realize there’s a lot more to life than work and causes.”

Ginger relaxed, realizing she wasn’t the only one who was being transformed. “Such as?”

“Home. Family.” He started to say what Ginger thought might have been “love” then changed it to simply, “All this.”

Ginger rose to clear the table and retrieve the dessert she had made. Over her shoulder she said, “I do like our life together.”

He caught up with her at the kitchen sink and took her in his arms. “Me, too.” His mouth hovered over hers, and they kissed.

When they came up for air, she said, “Chocolate cake...”

“Sounds good.” He undid the first several buttons on her shirt. “But it can definitely wait.”

She closed her eyes and sighed as his lips made an evocative tour of her throat, collarbone and the sensitive spot behind her ear. Hands clutching his shoulders, she caught him with a kiss on the jaw. “We’ve so begun to think alike.”

He lifted his head and captured her gaze. “Which, in this instance, is a very good thing.”

Rand swept her up into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. Ever so gently, he let her down beside the bed. Toed off his boots. Removed his socks. Reaching up behind him, he tugged his shirt over his head in one very smooth, easy motion. Her mouth went dry at the sight of him in just a pair of low-slung jeans.

Her eyes roamed his satin-smooth skin and strong muscle. “Keep going.”

His lips quirked. The jeans went. So did the boxer briefs.

Oh, my.

His breath rasped. “Now you.”

Eyes holding his, she undressed slowly. One by one, everything came off. Shirt. Bra. Socks. Jeans. Panties. His heated gaze made a slow, thorough tour of her.

“We’re good?”

He grinned. “So good.”

The next thing she knew, he had pulled her against him. She loved the feel of him even as she loved the ragged groan she wrenched from his chest. Her hands were everywhere. So were his. Their kisses were long, languid, passionate and sweet.

Breathing erratically, they landed on top of the covers. He palmed her breasts. She clutched his biceps and arched up into him. And still they kissed and kissed. Already cradled by her open thighs, he slid into her. She cried out, shuddering in pleasure. And then there was nothing but the two of them, this moment, their future beckoning as powerfully as their present. His strokes were strong and slow, making her groan, making her want. She quivered and trembled against him, letting him know how very much she needed the oblivion and wonder he offered.

“Now, Rand, please...”

He gripped her hips. “You first...” His raspy declaration was all it took. Her body exploded in sensation, and as she came, she took him along with her, their locked gazes as steadfast as their hearts.

* * *

A
N
HOUR
AND
one more lovemaking session later, they were cozily ensconced on the screened-in porch. Clad in pajamas, eating slices of chocolate cake and scoops of homemade vanilla ice cream. He bussed the top of her head. “You are an amazing chef.”

“Thank you.” She grinned and kissed him back.

He savored the very last bite. “This is, without a doubt, the best dessert I have ever eaten.”

Seizing the opportunity, Ginger playfully feigned affront. “That’s the one thing I didn’t actually make.”

Rand went still. Bemused by the way he constantly felt he had to protect her tender feelings, Ginger chuckled. “Actually, I made that, too.”

Let off the hook, he gave her a chiding look, then kissed the bridge of her nose. “And she jokes, too.”

Finished with their desserts, they set their plates aside and cuddled together on the porch swing. Aware she needed to unburden herself to someone, and she wanted that someone to be her husband, Ginger eventually admitted what had been nagging at her all day. “I think I’m going to lose the bid.”

Rand lifted a dissenting brow. “First of all, you haven’t lost it yet,” he reminded her. “But,
if
you do, it’ll be because of—”

Ginger jumped in to list all the mitigating factors. “Maria’s defection, not to mention the fact that I don’t have the skill set to build an entire wildcatting company from scratch.” Exhaling, she turned her troubled gaze to his. “Because if I did, let’s face it, I never would have allowed my ex to sabotage me the way he did.”

Rand pushed the swing into a lazy comforting rhythm, as matter-of-fact as ever. “For the record, I didn’t see that coming, either.”

But that wasn’t all that was bothering her. She studied Rand, wanting his reaction to this, too. “The point is, if Dot and Clancy don’t choose me to do the drilling on their land, I’m going to have to make a decision whether to pursue another job with someone else. Or—” and this, she knew, was even trickier “—hold off looking for something else until after the baby comes.”

Rand shifted her onto his lap. “You know I’ll support you in whatever you do. Especially if you find you really like being a mom and—” he squinted, waiting for her reaction “—want to take time off to have another baby, too.”

His words were a shock, all right. Ginger put her arms around his shoulders. “Whoa.
What?
”

“Well...” Mischief lit his midnight-blue eyes. “Sometimes it’s good to get all the baby-making out of the way at once, if you’re planning on resuming a career, and/or you want to give a child a sibling close in age, so they’ll have a playmate growing up.”

His logic was both convoluted and oddly reasonable. Trying not to get too caught up in the fantasy of what it would be like to have a real long-lasting family with Rand, instead of the temporary situation they had both agreed upon at the outset of their marriage, Ginger bit her lip. “That was the one thing I always lamented, not having a brother or a sister.”

He rubbed his thumb across the curve of her lower lip. “I always wanted a sister, but after five boys, mom and dad said they were done.”

She grinned wryly. “I imagine their hands were pretty full.” With five sons, all as handsome and smart and full of life as Rand.

He shook his head, remembering what appeared to have been a fun-filled childhood. “You have no idea.” He cleared his throat and regarded her with choirboy innocence. “Anyway, if you decide you want to do this again, I want to go on record here as saying I’m all in.”

Ginger shifted, feeling the resurgence of his desire—and hers. “All in?” she teased.

His laugh was low and seductive. “Most definitely all in.”

Aware what would happen if they continued to be that close, Ginger slid off his lap and carried their dishes to the kitchen. “Don’t you think that would be a problem?” she said over her shoulder. “I mean, if we were to do that, we wouldn’t be married by then. According to our agreement, we’d be divorced.”

He stepped in to help with the dishes. “We could always get married again. Or stay married and put it in our infamous contract.”

Ginger nudged him with her shoulder. “Hey, that contract is going to save us a lot of grief over the years.”

His hands encircled her hips, and he turned her to face him. “If we ever finish it.”

Ginger shivered in the night air coming through the open windows. “We’ll finish it,” she promised.

He combed his fingers through her hair. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” she returned softly. Because she really wanted this temporary marriage of theirs to work. And even though she knew they were getting ahead of themselves, turning the practical arrangement into an increasingly romantic one, she still wanted them to succeed. Not just as parents, but on every level.

* * *

G
INGER
DIDN
’
T
KNOW
whether it was the loneliness of the cottage after Rand had gone off to work, or the thought of waiting another day before finding out which company had won the lucrative bid...or just the fact she was pregnant. All she knew was that she missed her mom and needed to see her. And there was, Ginger knew, only one cure for that.

So just before lunch, she went over to the Red Sage business office. Her mom was in the party planning suite, looking as pretty and personable as ever. She paused in the doorway, aware her mother still had every reason to be irked with her. “Got a minute?”

“Always.” Cordelia put aside the stack of invitations she had been working on. She perused Ginger with her usual mixture of affection and worry, then finally said, “You look good.”

Ginger felt good.

Accepting her mom’s wordless invitation, she sauntered in to take a seat on the other side of her mother’s desk. Ginger smiled, suddenly wishing she could break down and tell her mom everything that had been going on. She wanted to tell her how hormonal and nauseated and overjoyed and overwhelmed she had felt the past three months. But she couldn’t. Not when she and Rand had decided they would tell their families about the baby, all at once.

Aware her mother was still perusing her closely, Ginger shrugged. “I guess I’ve got that honeymoon glow.”

“That must be it,” Cordelia mused in return.

“Well, that and some extra sleep the past day or so,” Ginger couldn’t resist adding.

Another sharp-eyed maternal glance. “Over your stomach upset?” she asked gently.

Ginger nodded, comforted to know her mother still cared. “Which brings me to my next point. I wanted to thank you for giving Rand your famous chicken noodle soup recipe.”

Cordelia’s eyes lit up. “How did it turn out?”

“Good.” She smiled back, then felt obliged to admit, “Well, not as good as yours, but it was still very comforting.”

Cordelia interjected, “It’s the thought that counts.”

“Yes, it is.” Ginger sighed, knowing that Rand wasn’t the only one who deserved better from her. Still looking her mom in the eye, she pushed on, “I want to apologize. I haven’t been very cordial to you, as of late.”

Cordelia lifted a delicate hand. “You had reason to be annoyed with me,” she said. “I shouldn’t have just quit my job and taken one here without speaking with you first.”

Ginger rose and moved closer. She leaned against the desk, needing to be near. “That’s the thing, Mom. I was wrong about that, too. You don’t need to ask me for permission to do what you want to do, any more than I need to ask you. We’re both grown women. We can make our own decisions.”

Cordelia stood and embraced Ginger in a warm, heartfelt hug. “I just want you to be happy.”

Relieved to no longer be quarreling, Ginger hugged her mom back. “I am, Mom.” For the first time, in a really long time. “I really am.”

Cordelia squeezed her hand. “I know, honey. I see that in you and Rand. And that makes me feel like I can go on with my own life in a way I really haven’t been since your dad died.”

Ginger blinked. “Are you trying to tell me you’re dating again?”

“I’m trying to tell you I’m going to start.” She smiled serenely. “Seeing you with Rand has reminded me what it’s like to be in love with someone, really in love, and what it means to make that leap of faith, and share your life with that person.”