Baby, Come Back (6 page)

He hesitated, moving his eyes over her. “Are you sure? It looks as if I've kept you up already.”

Alice glanced down at herself, remembering for the first time that she wore her bedclothes. Heat washed over her, even as she called herself a ninny. Her robe concealed more than many of her day clothes.

“I wasn't sleeping,” she murmured, automatically tightening the robe's cinch belt. “You won't be keeping me up— you'll be keeping me company. Go on in. I'll bring the cocoa.”

When she returned to the living room with the steaming mug, she found that Hayes had already positioned himself on the floor. He'd removed his shoes, socks and jacket; it looked as if he'd towel-dried and finger-combed his hair. He leaned against the sofa, his eyes closed.

Her chest tight, she used the moment to gaze at him. She'd always liked looking at him, had always thought him the most handsome man in the world. And looking at him had always made her feel warm and fluttery inside.

Silly, she thought, moving her gaze down his lean body. She'd always been just little bit silly when it had come to Hayes Bradford. No surprises tonight; she felt warm and fluttery and just about as silly as a woman could be over a man.

She drew in a deep, shuddering breath, working to even her runaway pulse. Why did he affect her this way? How could nothing more than his presence turn her to mush? And why did his sitting on the floor in her living room feel so right?

He opened his eyes and met hers. For one long moment he simply looked at her intently, unsmiling. A flutter of awareness moved over her, and she acknowledged that inviting him for cocoa had been a poor decision indeed. The hour was late, the setting too intimate. And she was way too susceptible to Hayes Bradford's brand of charm.

She forced a bright smile, although she suspected he could see right through it. “Here you go.” She bent and held out the mug. He took it, his fingers brushing hers, his gaze sliding to the gaping V of her robe. Heat washed over her once more, and she started to straighten.

He reached up and caught her hand. “Don't go, Alice.”

“I'm not going anywhere.”

“But you are. You're headed clear across the room to that uncomfortable understuffed chair.” He indicated a place on the floor beside him. “Sit by me.”

She hesitated, and he smiled. “I won't bite.” He lifted two fingers. “Scout's honor.” She hesitated only a moment more, then sat beside him. Their shoulders almost touched, and the heat from his body made her too warm, even in her light robe.

She brought her mug to her lips. She never had been able to resist even his simplest requests.
A fool. She was such a fool.

For long moments they stared at nothing in particular, the room silent save for the sound of the rain and the occasional boom of thunder.

“We fought again,” Hayes said finally, quietly, his voice heavy with regret. “He stormed off.”

“I figured that was what must have happened.” She laced her fingers around the warm mug. “How long ago?”

Hayes made a sound of frustration. Of worry. “Hours.”

“And you've checked everywhere?”

“Yes.” He drew his eyebrows together. “All I can do now is wait. I don't think I have another option. I left a message for him to call me here when he returns.” Hayes lowered his eyes to his cup. “I brought up the idea of adoption. I pushed too hard.” He laughed, the sound hard and self-mocking. “You know me, Mr. Subtle.”

She reached over and lightly touched his sleeve. “I'm sorry, Hayes.”

He looked at her hand, then lifted his gaze to hers. “I appreciate that, Alice. You could have told me to take a flying leap. I wouldn't have blamed you if you had.”

She drew her hand back. “But that's not my way.”

“No, it's not.” He met her eyes, searching, studying. “What about you? It's late.” He lifted the mug. “You're indulging in cocoa. What ails you tonight?”

“I couldn't sleep. Too much on my mind.” She leaned her head against the edge of the couch. “I had to expel one of my kids from the program today.”

“Had to?”

“I recommended it, but...”

“But you hated to do it.”

“Yes. He needs us. He needs help.” She ran her fingers back and forth across the rug, creating broken, ragged shapes in the pile. “But he needs it from a different kind of program. We weren't doing him any good.”

“You feel like you failed him.”

“I did fail him.” She sighed and swiped her hand across the marks on the rug, obliterating them. “He's back on drugs. Still angry at the world. In truth, he's no better off than when he started in the program a year ago.”

Hayes caught her hand, closing his fingers over hers. “You can't save everybody, Alice.”

She looked down at their joined hands, then back at him. She shook her head. “I don't believe that. I keep thinking that if I'd only tried harder, I'd have found a way to reach him.”

“Some people don't want to be saved.”

She couldn't argue with him; she knew what he said was true. But it frustrated the hell out of her. She didn't want to let even one of her kids go.

She slipped her hand from his. “Would you like another cup of— ”

“I'm fine. I haven't finished what I have.” Hayes picked up his cup and sipped, licking his lips appreciatively as he did. “I haven't had a cup of cocoa in years.” He smiled in wry amusement. “You used to make it all the time,” he murmured. “Even in August.”

She looked away, remembering all the times she'd made the three of them a cup of the hot, sweet beverage. “You always seemed to like it.”

He met her eyes. “And I always liked this, Alice. Being with you. Just sitting. Enjoying the quiet.”

What could she say? she wondered, swallowing hard. And even if she could find a thought, how could she verbalize it— her chest ached so badly she could hardly breathe, let alone speak.

“I missed it when you were gone.”

She tightened her fingers on the ceramic mug. “But you were the one who sent me away. The one who ended it.”

His lips twisted, and he shifted his gaze to the dark, rain-splattered windows. “I know.”

“Then why are you telling me, Hayes? It's over. Is there something you want me to say? Something you want me to feel?”

He frowned, his gaze still on the windows. “I don't...want anything from you, Alice. I just wanted you to know.” He met her eyes then; the expression in his tearing at her. “You were important to me. You were special.”

She curled her fingers into fists.
But not important enough. Not special enough.
Disappointment and frustration welled in her chest, until she could taste them.

A brilliant flash of lightning illuminated the already warmly lit room. She faced him, her heart rapping furiously against the wall of her chest. “I think it's time for you to go.”

“I'd rather stay.”

“Sorry.” She started to stand; he caught her hand and pulled her back down.

“I always thought you the most beautiful woman I'd ever known,” he murmured, running his fingers over hers, dipping them in the junctures of hers.

She shook her head, her mouth desert dry. Warmth radiated from where his fingers covered hers, upward and outward until her entire body felt aflame. “I'm not beautiful. Not by any stretch of the imagination.”

“By mine you are.” He laid her hand against his chest, over his thundering heart. “The most beautiful.”

She sucked in a quick, desperate breath. She felt her control evaporating, her resolve melting away. She tried to pull back, but he tightened his grasp. “Don't do this, Hayes.”

“Don't do what?”

“Turn me inside out,” she whispered. “Make me crazy to kiss you.”

“Are you?” He drew her a fraction closer. “Crazy to kiss me?”

“Yes, dammit.” She tugged on her hand. “Now, let me go.”

Instead, with a quick jerk, he tumbled her against him, then brought her backward with him until she lay sprawled across his chest.

“You make me crazy, too,” he said softly. “You turn me inside out. And upside down. And backward.” He eased his hands down her back to the curve of her bottom. He pressed her against him. “See how crazy you make me? And you do it effortlessly. All I have to do is think of you. Look at you. Touch you.”

The breath shuddered past her lips, arousal licking at the last of her control, her resolve long gone already. “Hayes...this isn't— ”

What could she say? That this wasn't right? Nothing had felt so right in a long time. That she didn't want him? What a joke. She wanted him so badly she thought she might die if she didn't have him.

He rolled her onto her back and propped himself above her. “I can't sleep, Alice. I can't concentrate on work. My relationship with my son is unraveling at the speed of light, and yet...all I can think about is being with you.”

Hayes trailed his mouth across her eyebrow, down the curve of her cheek. He found the pulse that beat behind her ear, and he pressed a kiss to the spot. “I never forgot what it was like being with you. And I won't apologize for wanting you. I can't. It's been the one thing in the course of my life that's felt totally right.”

He moved his mouth lower, to the base of her throat. She whimpered and arched. “You feel like silk and you taste like sugar.” He moved his mouth again, lower, nudging aside the soft terry cloth, revealing the curve of her breast. Heat spiraled through her as he sampled that spot, then moved to another. Then another. Stroking, tasting. Nipping.

Alice raised her hands to his hair. “You said you wouldn't bite,” she whispered brokenly. “You promised. Scout's honor.”

He brought his face back to hers. “Yeah, but I was never a Scout.”

Giving in to the sensations coursing through her, she brought his mouth to hers. He tasted of the chocolate, rich and sweet. He smelled of the storm, of the rainwater and sweat. And he felt like Hayes. Solid and strong.

With a sigh, she twined her fingers in his hair. She remembered everything about his kiss, his touch, his lovemaking. The way he held his head, the exact amount of pressure; the way he moved his lips against hers; the sounds he made, deep and raspy, as she responded to his loving. It felt so right, so familiar.

It felt like coming home.

“Miss A.! Where are you? I don't feel so good!”

Sheri's words sliced through the fog of pleasure that enveloped her, and Alice rolled away from Hayes. She scrambled to her feet, automatically adjusting her robe, horrified at her wanton behavior. “I'm here, Sheri. What's wrong?”

Sheri stumbled into the living room, holding her middle, her face ashen. “I don't know...it hurts. And there was a...some spots of blood.”

The baby. Oh, no.
Alice's heart flew to her throat, but she managed to hide her fear. For Sheri's sake, she had to keep her head. “Calm down, sweetie.” Alice went around the sofa and took the panicked girl's arm. “Come on, let's sit down.”

Sheri clutched at her hand. “I don't want to lose my baby, Miss A. Don't let that happen! Please, don't...let...”

Her words trailed off as she saw Hayes for the first time. The blood drained from her already pale face. She shifted her gaze from Alice to Hayes and back, a look of shock crossing her features.

Alice dragged a hand through her tangled hair, imagining how she must appear, but too worried about Sheri to really care. “Hayes came searching for Jeff. We were having a cup of— ”

“Jeff?” the girl squeaked, shifting her frightened gaze to Hayes. “Has something happened? Is something wrong— is he— ”

“He's fine,” Hayes interrupted quietly, obviously hearing the note of hysteria in the girl's voice and wanting to reassure her. “He left without telling me where he was going. I thought maybe he'd come here. That's all.”

Alice shot Hayes an appreciative glance as she led Sheri to a chair. Beneath her hand, Alice could feel the girl tremble. She eased her onto the seat, then met her eyes. “I'm going to call Dr. Bennett.”

The teenager caught her hand. “You think something's wrong, don't you?”

“Of course not.” Alice squeezed Sheri's ice-cold fingers and forced a reassuring smile. “But we need to make sure. And you know Dr. Bennett. She'll have our heads if we don't call.”

Sheri nodded miserably. “If you have to.”

Alice called the doctor's service, and within minutes, Sheri's physician had returned her call. Alice quickly explained Sheri's symptoms, and the physician told them she had better examine the girl.

Heart thundering, Alice turned back to Sheri. She forced another calm smile. “Dr. Bennett thinks you should come in for an examination. She's going to meet us at the hospital.”

“Hospital?” Sheri repeated, her chin wobbling, her eyes flooding with tears. “She thinks I'm...losing my baby, doesn't she?”

There was a chance.
But how could she tell Sheri that? Alice took a deep breath. “It's a precaution. She doesn't want to take any chances, that's all. I'll get your robe and slippers— ”

The phone rang, and Alice grabbed it, thinking it might be the doctor. It was Jeff; he'd returned home and found Hayes's message. Alice filled the boy in on what was going on, then handed the receiver to Sheri. While the teenagers talked, Alice retrieved the robe and slippers, quickly threw on street clothes then grabbed an afghan to wrap around Sheri.

She returned to the living room. Talking to Jeff had seemed to calm Sheri, and Alice said a silent thankyou. The calmer Sheri remained, the better. She knew that from experience.

“I'll go start the car,” Hayes said suddenly, stiffly.

Alice turned to him. He stood as still as a stone, his expression almost forbidding. “That's not necessary,” she said. “I can drive.”