Friends and Lovers (11 page)

“Here’s what I want to do,” she said, eyeing the glass in Lauren’s hand. “Take a drink first then put that down.”

Lauren tipped it back before setting it on the dresser.

“Okay, I’ve prewashed all the little outfits but they need to be folded and put away, and we have to figure out where everything is going to go. I liked the crib here but now I don’t think having it near the window is such a good idea.”

“If you put the changing table there instead, you can look out the window. It beats looking at the wall.”

“Good point.” Sherry’s gaze settled on the chair. “What about that?”

“Where do you plan to do most of the rocking?”

“I wish I knew.” She drummed her fingers on the top of the crib rail as she thought about it. “If I leave it here I can rock the baby when he wakes up at night. But I’m basically stuck up here the rest of the time when I’d rather be hanging around with Ken downstairs.”

“The chair would fit nicely in the living room.”

“Let’s come back to it.” She faced the dresser. “Now the dresser should go …” Sherry hemmed and hawed for a minute. “Nope, I can’t see it until we move the crib and the changing table first.”

“Should you really be moving furniture?”

“It’s light but if you think we should call the guys up we can.”

Not a proposal Lauren wanted to hear. “Let me try it on my own first.” Sherry was right. Lauren was able to move everything with only limited help from Sherry.

Just as they got the room organized the way they wanted it Ken yelled up the stairs. “Lunch is on the table.”

Sherry’s eyes widened. “I didn’t even hear the buzzer.”

“Me either.”

“This looks a whole lot better, don’t you think?”

“I’ll say.”

“Come on, and don’t forget your glass.”

Lauren grabbed it, flipping off the light as she followed Sherry out.

The smell of a juicy baked ham and au gratin potatoes hit Lauren and Sherry as soon as they reached the top of the stairs. Ken was just taking warm rolls out of the oven when they walked into the kitchen. Wes turned and looked at Lauren.

“Mimosa?” he asked, taking the glass out of her hand.

“It was.”

“Care for another?”

“Sure, thanks.”

He set her glass beside two others and made all three. He handed Lauren hers first. His mix was stronger than Sherry’s.

“Honey, where are the beans?” Sherry asked, looking at Ken.

“Already on the table.”

She turned and saw them. “Oh. Then I guess we’re all set.”

Wes set his and Ken’s glasses by their plates and glanced at his sister. “What can I get you to drink?”

“White wine.”

Wes gave her a ‘let’s be serious’ look, clearly not about to budge on the alcohol.

“Well, you asked.” She pouted. “Fine, I’ll have white grape juice. It’s in the fridge.”

“Just so you don’t feel left out, I’ll put it in a wine glass for you.” A minute later Wes set a stemmed wine glass in front of Sherry. Then he bent to kiss the top of her head.

“Thanks,” said Sherry, voice shaking with emotion.

“Hold it together.” Wes smiled and pulled out the chair across from Lauren.

“I’ve got it,” Sherry said impatiently, fanning herself briskly.

Wes leaned forward and winked at Lauren. “She cries at the drop of a hat.”

“I do not.”

“I beg to differ,” Ken said, placing the butter dish on the table and taking the last chair.

“These two like ganging up on me,” Sherry muttered.

The guys both protested that claim, and Lauren smiled at the comfortable give-and-take going around the table.

While Sherry told Ken what they’d accomplished in the nursery, Wes caught Lauren’s eye and asked, “So what’d you think of it?”

“I never realized Sherry was such a talented artist. I mean, I always knew she liked to doodle, I just didn’t know she could do so much more.”

“She kept her light under a bush.”

“She sure did.” Lauren smiled softly and lifted her glass, taking a sip to hide it.

“What did you say?” Sherry asked, looking over.

“Lauren was just telling me how much she loves your artwork in the nursery.”

“Thanks, I am pretty proud of it. I admit I wasn’t very confident at first. I mean it’s one thing to have a vision, but it’s a whole different story carrying it off. You know?”

“You weren’t sure?” Lauren asked.

She shrugged. “Not really. I did some sketches, made a few pencil marks on the walls, but it took a lot of guts to actually put a paintbrush to the walls. In the end I decided that if I mucked it up I’d just repaint.”

“Well, any kid would love it.”

“I was trying to bring the Hundred Acre Wood to life.”

“You and Pooh,” said Ken with a warm chuckle.

“He’s the cutest thing ever. Just think of him stuck in Rabbit’s hole or hanging onto a bunch of balloons while trying to reach the beehive.”

Ken held up his hands defensively. “You’re right, he is adorable. Just don’t ask me to name the kid Winnie the Pooh.”

Sherry blew him a raspberry and everyone laughed.

“Do you have any names picked out?” Lauren asked as she buttered a soft bun.

“I wanted Clancy,” said Sherry.

Ken groaned. “Not that again.”

Her eyes narrowed on her husband. “But that suggestion was met with strong resistance, so at this time we’re still tossing around boy’s names.”

“What about girls?”

“I don’t think I’m carrying a girl.”

“But you can’t be sure.” Lauren tore a piece off her bun and popped it into her mouth.

“I don’t know. The baby just has a boy feel about him.” Sherry turned to Ken. “Honey, can I have a few more beans? I shorted myself.”

“Maybe you’re carrying a tomboy,” Lauren persisted.

Ken spooned more beans onto his wife’s plate and Sherry laughed. “I didn’t expect you to do it for me. What a sweetheart.” She turned back to Lauren. “A tomboy? That would be perfect, wouldn’t it? Here I’d want a girly girl, someone to play tea party with me, and who likes to spin in dresses, and I’d end up with a girl who hates pink and would rather have a new baseball glove instead of a doll.”

“You’d love her anyway.”

“Of course.”

Wes broke his silence. “How about Robin?”

“Robin?” Sherry and Ken said in unison.

“You know, like Christopher Robin. Robin works for a boy or a girl.”

“But it’s more of a girl’s name, isn’t it?” Ken asked.

“Would you tell Robin Hood he has a sissy name?” Wes countered with raised eyebrows.

“Hell no, Robin Hood kicks ass.”

“There you go.”

“Actually, I kind of like Robin,” Sherry said thoughtfully.

“Hallelujah! Let’s go with it. The baby is now officially Robin,” Ken said with relief.

“I like Robin too,” Lauren added with a smile. She felt honored to be present at such a momentous occasion.

* * * *

After lunch, once the dishwasher was humming away and the table and counter were wiped clean, the four friends sat down to a game of Trivial Pursuit. Ken claimed his wife because he said she had the memory of an elephant, so by default Wes and Lauren were paired as the opposition.

“That was during Johnson’s administration, wasn’t it?” Wes asked Lauren.

She stared at him. “How should I know?”

He turned back to the other two. “Then we’re going with Johnson.”

Ken groaned. “He’s right. Next time it’s guys against the girls.”

“Fine, we’ll kick your asses.” Sherry sneered.

Lauren wasn’t so sure about that. There were a lot of things she could say with utter confidence about Wes: he was hot, no question; he was compassionate, he’d proved that on numerous occasions; but smart? The man blew her mind. He was kicking butt without much help from her. Lauren was embarrassed because she didn’t know enough to actually contribute anything important. Oh, she’d gotten a few inane answers, not that it mattered. Wes was carrying her deadweight.

“Well, finish us off,” said Ken with a sigh after Lauren rolled their pie into the middle of the board. He looked at Sherry. “What should we give them for a category?”

Sherry pursed her lips and considered the opposition thoughtfully. “He blows at Arts and Literature.”

“I do not,” Wes protested.

“More than the rest.”

“Arts and Literature it is,” Ken said, and he pulled a card. He read it without a word then showed it to his wife.

Sherry’s face fell and she shook her head emphatically. “No way. New card!”

“Not fair. You have to read the card that was drawn,” argued Wes.

There was a disgusted frown on Sherry’s face as she read the question. “What British author brought The Hundred Acre Wood to millions of children around the world?”

Wes and Lauren stared at each other with incredulous eyes then burst out laughing. “A.A. Milne!” they shouted simultaneously.

“I cannot
believe
you finished us off with that,” Sherry grumbled, tossing the card across the board.

Wes gave Lauren a high five. “Poetic justice.”

“You had your chance,” Lauren agreed with her partner.

Ken looked at his wife with concern. “Honey, you look tired.”

“I’m fine.”

He turned to the other two. “Are there circles under her eyes?”

Wes nodded. “Afraid so.”

Lauren smiled apologetically. “You do look like you could use a nap, Sherry.”

Just the mention of a nap brought on a yawn. “Fine, have it your way,” Sherry said with resignation.

Ken smiled and hugged her around the shoulders. “That’s my girl.” She rolled her eyes.

Wes enjoyed a big stretch then stood. “Well, I guess I’ve been here long enough.”

“I should get going too,” said Lauren, rising. “Thanks for having me over. This was fun.”

“Let’s do it again next week, okay?” Sherry worked herself up from her chair.

Lauren’s face lit up. “Why not?”

Their hosts saw them to the door and Wes and Lauren set off down the sidewalk together.

As Lauren unlocked her driver’s door Wes hovered behind her. “What’s next on your agenda?” he asked.

It was difficult to face him now that she wasn’t looking to him for clues. “I was just going to go home.”

“But it’s early yet. Why don’t you come over to my place?”

Lauren closed her eyes—tight. “Wes.”

“Before you shoot me down, hear me out.”

She turned and looked up and into his eyes. It was a mistake because it was too damn easy to get lost in them, to feel sucked in and drugged by them.

He went on, “I know you aren’t exactly comfortable around me right now because of yesterday and we should talk about it. We need to clear the air, because I don’t want this hovering between us like a bad stink. Please?”

She sighed wearily. “I already know what you’re going to say. You’ll tell me it was just an impulse and you don’t know what came over you. You’ll ask me to forgive you so we can go back to being friends, right? Listen, I know pity when I see it. You were only responding to my emotional vacuum. I don’t hold it against you, and you’re forgiven. All better now?”

Wes stared at her. “That’s what you’re thinking?”

She nodded, too depressed to go on.

“Fuck that!”

He spun her around so suddenly Lauren gasped and then her back was against the car and her feet left the ground. Wes’s mouth came down hard over hers. Lauren’s fingers bit into the front of his shirt as he bent her backward and his body forced her spine to mold itself to the cool metal while the hot bite of his hips, his solid chest, pressed into her.

She moaned helplessly, her head so heavy her neck couldn’t support it. His kiss was bruising, an irritated lesson, and her mouth was buzzing when he finally eased back and their lips peeled slowly apart.

“Maybe I was wrong,” she mumbled stupidly, too dazed to see straight.

“You think?” he asked sarcastically.

Chapter 11

“This is ridiculous. We’re going to my house,” Wes said, pulling Lauren’s car door open for her. When she dropped onto her seat he closed her in and bent down to look at her, his strong hands curled over her open window. “Follow me.”

Shaking his head as he walked back to his car, he got in and turned his key.

Was the woman mental? Wes flicked his eyes at the rearview mirror to make sure Lauren was keeping up as he pulled away. How many clues did he have to give her anyway? He gripped the steering wheel and tried to calm down, but he was so unbelievably stirred up at the moment it wasn’t easy.

He’d put his tongue down her throat for crying out loud! That doesn’t happen
accidentally
. Come on. Was it low self-esteem on her part or a low opinion of him that made her assume the worst? He groaned. They needed to talk. This long heart-to-heart was more than a decade overdue.

Ten minutes later they pulled into his driveway. Lauren fidgeted with her keys as she walked up the steps beside him. Wes opened the front door and tugged her inside. He gave the door a hard swing closed and stalked off in irritation to the kitchen.

“I’m getting a beer. You interested?” he called back to her.

“Hit me.”

When Wes rounded the corner, he slowed at what he saw. There was Lauren, drooping like a thirsty plant on the edge of his couch, her knees together, her feet splayed, and her forehead resting on her hand. That was the posture of quiet despair. He took a deep breath and calmed himself. Obviously this wasn’t easy for her either.

Stopping in front of her, he held out a cold bottle. “Here.”

She looked up and took it. “Thank you.”

He sat down near the corner of the couch so he could face her and kicked back, crossing his foot over his knee. Wes took a long tug from his beer before he opened the floor. “Well?”

Lauren swallowed and tried, but failed, to stop a soft burp with the back of her hand. “Well what?”

Wes smiled, both amused and surprised. “What’s going on? Why would you think I didn’t mean to kiss you? You didn’t honestly believe it was all just pity, did you?”

She shifted uncomfortably. “Sort of.”

“Well, I hope I corrected you on that.”

Lauren blushed and looked down at her sandals, wiggling her freshly polished toes poking out the top. “Very effectively.”