Friends, Lovers...And Babies! (The Baby Bet #2) Read online

  Ignoring what felt like a full platoon of butterflies in her stomach, she entered the storage room. After flicking on the light, she stood by the back door, waiting for Ryan’s arrival.

  She was behaving like an adolescent, she admonished herself. This wasn’t the captain of the high school football team for heaven’s sake, it was Ryan. Her friend. Her…her lover.

  She straightened the waistband of her bright red sweater over her black slacks, drew a steadying breath and ordered herself to shape up.

  Why was she so nervous? She’d been a wreck ever since Ryan had telephoned to say he was ready to start the installation of her new security system. They’d agreed he’d work after the store closed; he’d see her then, goodbye.

  “Fine,” she said aloud.

  Her jangled state confused her, it truly did. Everything between her and Ryan was under control, up front, honest and open. The structure of their relationship suited them both to perfection, and a dandy time would be had by all.

  There was no just cause for her to feel like a kid going to her first prom. Ryan would be there any second now. It was no big deal.

  A sharp knock sounded at the back door.

  “Oh,” she gasped, her hands flying to her cheeks.

  Stop it this instant, Deedee Hamilton, she told herself. She had no idea what her ridiculous problem was, but enough was enough. There, she was fine now. Steady as a rock.

  She moved closer to the door.

  “Who is it?” she said, knowing and hating the fact that her voice had squeaked.

  “Ryan” came a muffled reply.

  She plastered a smile on her face, then unlocked and opened the door.

  Oh, Ryan, her mind hummed. Hello, Ryan MacAllister.

  “Hi,” she said. “Come in.” He was gorgeous in jeans and a black sweatshirt. Simply…gorgeous.

  “Hello, Deedee.” He moved passed her to place a large box on the counter, then turned to look at her. “This is all I’ll need tonight. You can close the door. I’ll be in and out, so set the lock on open. That will save you from having to perch in here to let me in every other minute. You said you’d be doing paperwork at the counter. Have you eaten dinner?”

  Good Lord, he fumed, he sounded like a record stuck on full speed ahead. He’d delivered that nonsensical dissertation so fast it was a wonder he hadn’t run out of oxygen and passed out on his face.

  What was the matter with him? This was Deedee, his friend, who looked sensational in that red sweater. Deedee, his lover, who was causing heat to rocket through his aching body. MacAllister, cool it.

  “So you’re all set to begin work,” Deedee said, a tad too loudly.

  “Yeah, I am. Right. Did Andrea talk to you about the lawyer?”

  What? his mind hammered. Where had that come from? Just because the attorney jerk had been on his mind was no excuse for the subject to come out of his mouth.

  “Lawyer?” Deedee said, obviously confused. “Do I need one? I have one who handles the legal documents for the store but…Am I being sued, or something?”

  “No, no, nothing like that.” Ryan shook his head and frowned. “Andrea has a friend with a cousin, or brother—hell, I don’t know—an attorney with big bucks and matching muscles they want you to meet. Go out with. On a date. Get the picture?”

  “I see,” she said slowly. “A lawyer.”

  “A rich lawyer, who pumps iron.”

  “Mmm,” she said, placing one fingertip on her chin.

  “So? Are you going to go out with the yuppie, who will probably spend the evening flexing his biceps?”

  Deedee dropped her hand from her chin and cocked her head slightly to one side. “Why are you yelling?”

  “I’m not yelling!” He paused. “Yes, I am. Forget it. Just forget I mentioned the creep.”

  She laughed. “He’s a creep?”

  “Yes. No. How should I know? I’ve never met the guy. If you want to go out with him, then do it.”

  “Thank you for your permission, Mr. MacAllister,” she said dryly.

  “I didn’t mean to sound like you needed my permission to…Hell, erase this whole conversation. Pretend I just came in. Hello, Deedee.”

  A warm glow started somewhere low and deep within Deedee and spread like liquid heat through her entire body, creating a flush on her cheeks.

  Ryan MacAllister, she thought, did not want her to go out with the muscle-bound, rich, creepy lawyer. Wasn’t that something? Why that knowledge pleased her so much, she had no idea, but it did. It truly did.

  “Ryan, I don’t want to go out with the attorney in question.”

  “You don’t?” A smile broke across his face. “That’s great. I mean, that’s…interesting.”

  “Well, you see, you and I have set boundaries for our relationship. Should I call it a relationship?” She shrugged. “I guess so. Anyway, I’m comfortable with what we have. Why would I go out with someone who might press me for more than I wish to give?”

  “Good point.”

  “Besides, you and I are lovers. I never date a man if I’m sleeping with another one. It goes against my code of conduct. You, of course, are free to do what suits you in regard to other women.”

  “I don’t want anyone but you.” He blinked. “That is, I’m on the same wavelength as you. Our relationship—yeah, we’ll call it a relationship—is structured just fine for me. I have no desire whatsoever to enter the singles dating scene. I’ll leave that meat market to Ted. So that’s settled, then. We don’t date other people while we’re involved with each other. Agreed?”

  “Agreed.”

  “Good. That’s good.”

  He stepped forward, slipped one hand to the nape of her neck, lowered his head and kissed her.

  Her bones were melting, Deedee thought as her lashes drifted down. Oh, dear heaven, she was on fire. It had been an eternity since Ryan had kissed her, but now he was kissing her, and it was glorious.

  Ryan dropped his hand from her neck and gathered Deedee close to his heated body, pausing only to take a rough breath before claiming her lips again. His tongue delved eagerly into the sweet darkness of her mouth to seek and find her tongue. Deedee splayed her hands on his back, urging him nearer yet.

  Yes! Ryan’s mind thundered. He’d wanted, needed, this kiss like a thirsty man yearning for water on a scorching desert. Ah, Deedee, yes!

  He filled his senses with her taste, the familiar aroma of flowers, the exquisite feel of her breasts being crushed against his chest. Memories of the lovemaking he’d shared with her flitted through his mind, increasing his passion to a fever pitch.

  His hands skimmed down over the feminine roundness of her bottom, nestling her to him, his arousal heavy and aching.

  Oh, man, how he wanted her.

  He would never get enough of her.

  For the remaining days and nights of his life, he would savor the ecstasy that was Deedee in his arms— Deedee purring in pleasure as he kissed and caressed every inch of her lissome body; Deedee calling his name as she was flung into oblivion.

  Deedee Hamilton was his.

  Forever.

  Ryan stiffened, breaking the kiss and dragging air into his lungs.

  Forever? his mind echoed. No, damn it, he didn’t believe in forever, not anymore. Death was the only forever that was absolute, guaranteed. There would be no forever with Deedee.

  “Ryan?”

  Deedee opened her eyes and looked at him, the desire radiating from the smoky brown depths causing him to stifle a moan of matching need.

  “I, um…” He cleared his throat. “I have to get to work, Deedee.” He eased her slowly away from his aroused, aching body, missing the feel of her the instant she was gone.

  “Oh, yes, of course.” She fiddled with the waistband of her sweater, willing her skittering heart to return to a normal rhythm. She looked up at him again. “I’ll leave you to it. I have paperwork to do.” She hurried out of the room.

  Ryan stood statue still, ordering his body back
under his command. He told his hazy brain to shift gears, think about electrical wiring. A tug-of-war began in his mind, yanking him back and forth between the intricacies of the security system he was going to install at Books and Books, and Deedee.

  And butterflies.

  And a cute, freckled nose.

  And femininity personified.

  And forever.

  “No,” he said, slamming his hand onto the doorknob.

  He started to turn it, then stopped, a deep frown knitting his brows.

  There would be no forever with Deedee. That was a given.

  But…

  When two people had structured a relationship based on the premise of friends and lovers, how long did that arrangement last?

  How long would Deedee Hamilton be his?

  Chapter Eleven

  During the next several weeks, Ryan pushed the haunting, unanswered question to the back of his mind and ignored it. He refused to address the issue of how long Deedee would be his and simply lived each day at a time—each day and each lovemaking night… with Deedee.

  Since he was spending his free hours with Deedee, he realized it had been far too long since he’d seen or spoken to Ted. He tracked Ted down, and they agreed to meet at their favorite restaurant for dinner the following evening.

  Shortly after six o’clock the next night, Ted slid into the booth in the small café and smiled wearily at Ryan, who sat across from him.

  “Howdy, buddy,” Ted said. “You are looking at one tired cop. Man, what I wouldn’t give to get my hands on those sleazes who are ripping stuff off.”

  “Which ones?” Ryan said, chuckling. “Or have you cleaned up the city to the point there’s only a couple bad guys left?”

  “Yeah, right. That won’t happen in my lifetime. I’m talking about the Culture Creeps. That’s what we’ve dubbed them.”

  “Ah,” Ryan said, nodding, “the guys who take a valuable whatever and nothing else.”

  “Yep. They’ve hit two more places. They got an expensive necklace on display in a jewelry store window, and a rare coin from a private home. Can you believe this? Why not clean out the jewelry store? Why leave behind the other coins in the collection? I’m telling you, Ryan, they’re driving the whole department nuts. There’s no word on the streets. Nothing. Zero. Zip.”

  “Sounds like they have discerning tastes.”

  “Culture Creeps,” Ted said, then muttered an earthy expletive.

  “Have some of Rosie’s chili,” Ryan said. “It’s good for what ails you.”

  A waitress appeared, the pair greeted her by name, then ordered chili, salad and beer. The woman reappeared quickly with the drinks and a basket of crunchy, warm French bread.

  “Rosie saw you two from the kitchen,” the waitress said. “She’s rushing right now, but said she’d be out to collect a hug from each of you. Oh, yeah, and she said she ought to be smacking you upside the head instead, ‘cause it’s been so long since you’ve been here. End of message.”

  “Tell her we love her,” Ted said. “She’s been on our minds day and night all these months.”

  “Ted Sharpe,” the woman said, “you’re so full of bull it’s a shame. Rosie says you’ve got the smoothest lines she’s heard delivered by any man she’s met in her sixty-five years. Oops, your order is up. I’ll be right back.”

  Steaming bowls of chili were placed on the table, along with crisp salads. The two men ate in silence for several minutes, taking the edge off their appetites.

  “Rosie hasn’t lost her touch,” Ted eventually said. “I’m glad you suggested we meet here, Ryan. It’s been too long between bowls of Rosie’s chili.”

  “Yeah, it has.”

  “I was in Books and Books today,” Ted went on.

  “Oh?”

  “Last Christmas my folks gave me a kit for carving a miniature rocking chair. Little tiny bugger. I finally got around to trying it, and it was a complicated son of a gun, very intricate. It turned out halfway decent, if I do say so myself.

  “Surprisingly, it’s very relaxing work, even though it’s precise, and you have to be slow and careful. I bought a book at Deedee’s store on making all kinds of miniature stuff.”

  “There you go,” Ryan said. “When you retire from the force, you can be a master miniature maker.”

  “Yep. Deedee said you installed a security system for her rare-book collection about a month ago.”

  Ryan nodded and shoveled in another spoonful of the spicy chili.

  “I looked at the books through the windows on the cases. She’s got some incredible stuff there.”

  “Yeah, I know. It’s an impressive collection, and it’s her pride and joy. She enjoys running Books and Books, but get her started talking about those rare books? Man, her eyes sparkle and her cute freckles dance a jig. She got a call the other day from a guy in Paris who wants to buy one of those books. She was so excited, I thought she’d jump right out of her shoes. Then she…”

  As a broad smile broke across Ted’s face, Ryan frowned.

  “Forget it,” he said. “What kind of miniature are you going to carve next?”

  “Nice dodge, MacAllister, but it didn’t work. Why?” Ted held up a finger. “One. Deedee babbled on about you, like you just did about her.” Another finger went up. “Two. I bumped into Andrea and she said you and Deedee have been out to dinner with her and John a couple of times, plus you two went to a movie with Forrest and Jillian, and a concert with Michael and Jenny.”

  “Eat your chili,” Ryan said gruffly.

  “Three,” Ted said, adding the appropriate finger. “You’re different.”

  “What do you mean I’m ‘different’?” Ryan glared at Ted.

  “That expression I recognize, but in the overall you’re not tight or wired like you’ve been the past couple of years. Whatever is going on between you and Deedee Hamilton is good for you, and I’m happy to see it.”

  “Deedee and I are friends.”

  “Okay,” Ted said, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “Whatever.”

  Ryan leaned back in the booth, his hands flat on the table on either side of the large bowl.

  “You don’t believe me,” he said.

  “Nope, but that’s all right. You’ll tell me what you want to tell me when you want to tell me what you want to tell me. I can wait.”

  “I just told you. Deedee and I are friends.”

  “Right. No problem.” Ted reached for another slice of bread.

  “Damn it, Ted,” Ryan started, then shook his head.

  He picked up his spoon again, stirred the chili left in the bowl, then continued to stir, watching the spoon go around and around.

  “Deedee is special,” he said quietly. “She’s intelligent, fun, sensitive and, Lord knows, she’s pretty. She’s lovely, in a cute, wholesome way. She’s open and honest, no games, no phony-up junk. She’s just… Hell, she’s just Deedee, herself, real.”

  “And you’re in love with her.”

  Ryan’s head snapped up. “No.”

  “For God’s sake, Ryan, have you listened to yourself when you talk about her? Have you kept in touch with yourself when you’re making love with her?”

  “I never said we were—”

  “Give me a break. I wasn’t born this morning. Look, I’ve never been in love, but I sure as hell recognize it in other people when I see it. You and Deedee are making love, and you and Deedee are in love. With each other. You’re both down for the count.”

  “Sharpe,” Ryan said, a muscle jumping in his jaw, “go to hell.”

  “Okay,” he said pleasantly. “I sure hope Rosie isn’t out of her homemade cherry pie. If she is, I’ll arrest her for breach of promise. Do you want that last slice of bread?” He slid out of the booth. “I’m going into the kitchen to give Rosie her hug and to see if by any chance there’s a cherry pie with my name on it just coming out of the oven.”

  “Mmm,” Ryan acknowledged absently as Ted walked away.

  Ted was
wrong, dead wrong. He, Ryan Robert MacAllister, was not in love with Deedee Hamilton. Hell, he knew what love felt like because he’d been in love with Sherry. Ted had admitted to never having been in love. So what made Sharpe think he was such an expert on the subject?

  Ryan shoved the bowl forward, then scowled as he folded his arms on top of the table.

  So okay, he was a far different man now than the one who had fallen in love with Sherry. He was older and bitterly wiser. And, too, Deedee was Deedee, not to be compared with Sherry.

  But love was love.

  Right?

  He’d been in love before, so he’d sure as hell know if he was in love again.

  Wouldn’t he?

  Or was it unique each time, sort of custom-tailored to who the people were when it happened?

  Good Lord, was it possible that he was in love with Deedee, but hadn’t recognized the emotion for what it actually was?

  “No,” he muttered, “that’s not possible.”

  Was it?

  Ted plunked a plate in front of Ryan, then slid back into the booth with his own plate.

  “A hug goes a long way with Rosie,” Ted said, rubbing his hands together. “Look at the size of these pieces of pie. Dig in, MacAllister.”

  “You’re crazy,” Ryan said, still glowering.

  “You don’t want to eat Rosie’s cherry pie hot from the oven? More fool you, dude. I’ll gladly have your slice after I finish mine.”

  Ryan pulled the plate toward him. “You touch it, I’ll break your arm. Your crazy zone is in regard to your saying I’m in love with Deedee. I’m not in love with her. She’s not in love with me.”

  “You can deny it from here to next Tuesday, but it won’t change the facts as they stand.” Ted took a bite of pie. “Mmm. This is heaven on this mess called earth. How come you’re free to have dinner with me tonight?”

  “Deedee had a Women in Business meeting,” Ryan said, then sampled the dessert. “Yeah, great pie. Rosie never fails.”

  “So,” Ted said, “if Deedee were free tonight you’d be with her?”

  Ryan shrugged. “We’re together most evenings. Her place, mine, whatever. We eat out, or cook dinner, rent a movie, read, or watch the tube. You know, ordinary spending-the-evening-hours-doing-something stuff.”