Courtney's Baby Plan Read online

  Her face felt like it was on fire. “The last thing on my mind then was having a baby.”

  “Your brother was still missing then, wasn’t he?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” She focused on his back, working a little harder.

  “And then he gets back, and you suddenly decide you want a baby.”

  “Not exactly. But I will admit that his return helped cement my belief that a person shouldn’t necessarily wait for those things in life that they really want.” The cotton knit of his T-shirt kept bunching beneath her hands. And she wanted to tear it off, and not just because it was hindering her massage, but because her hands simply ached to touch his bare skin.

  As if he could hear her thoughts and wanted to put an end to them, he suddenly rolled onto his back, proving that, not only had she managed to tame the muscle spasm, but he’d become much more agile over the past weeks than she knew.

  Which would make her even less of a necessity to him now.

  “I guess you’re feeling a little better.” She brushed her hands together and scooted to the side of the bed, but his hand latched around her wrist, halting her.

  Electricity shot through her. “What?”

  Almost as soon as he’d grabbed her, he released her. “Nothing.” His voice was gruff. “Just…thanks.”

  She chewed the inside of her lip. Pushed off the bed and felt around with her feet for her clogs. “That’s what I’m here for.”

  “You looking forward to having your place back to yourself? Start turning this room into a nursery?”

  Just nod and agree. How hard was that?

  “Looking forward to the nursery? Yes. Looking forward to you leaving?” She finally found the shoes. “Surprisingly, not so much.” Then, before her unwise tongue could get her into even more trouble, she hurried out of the room.

  She closed herself in her bedroom and leaned back against the door. “Stupid, Courtney,” she whispered. Just plain stupid.

  And then she saw the box sitting on her bed.

  It was small. And it was wrapped—rather unevenly—in brown paper. The same kind of paper as the bags at the grocery store where she shopped.

  She went over to the box and picked it up. There was no tag. No label.

  Shaking it lightly gave her no hint of what was inside and she slid her finger beneath the tape, pulling off the paper wrapping. The box it covered was plain white, also offering no hint.

  Inside her chest, her heart skittered around. She lifted the lid off the box.

  Her knees went loose and weak and she plopped down on the bed, staring at the silver rattle that was nestled snugly among the padding inside the box. She held it up.

  It had been engraved. Mommy’s little angel.

  Her hand trembled and the rattle jingled softly.

  Without thought, she left her room again and went into Mason’s. Still holding the rattle, she sat down on the bed beside him.

  “I don’t care if it is a bad idea.” Before her mind could stop what her heart wanted, she leaned over and pressed her mouth to his.

  Stars might as well have exploded inside her chest for the sensation that streaked through her. She lifted her head, catching her breath, but his hand came up, sinking through her hair, pulling her back to him.

  The rattle slid from her nerveless fingers when his mouth opened against hers. She felt herself sinking deeper into him and tore her mouth away. She pushed her hand against his chest, resisting even though the last thing she wanted to do was resist. “Tell me what to do about you,” she whispered. “You want to keep me at a distance, and then you do this?” She jiggled the rattle and it rang musically between them. “You, who doesn’t even approve of my plan?”

  “You put the rattle on that wish list.”

  She laughed a little brokenly. “And obviously, you’ve been poking around on the websites I happen to visit on the internet. I ought to be angry. I would never have even realized you’ve been spying, except you go and announce it by putting a box on my bed! What am I supposed to make of this?”

  “It’s just a gift. And there’s no spying involved, considering how you never seem to close a browser window.”

  His fingers were still threaded through her hair, and she lowered her forehead to his chin. She pulled in a long, slow breath. Let it out even more slowly. “Nothing with you is ever just.”

  “I didn’t give it expecting something in return.”

  “Something.” She lifted her head. Peered into his face. “Like me throwing myself at you again?”

  “You never threw yourself at me.”

  “What would you call it then?”

  His fingers slid along her neck. It took far more control than she possessed not to shiver. “A night of miracles,” he murmured.

  Her throat tightened. “Be careful,” she warned, much more for her own benefit than his. “That sounded unabashedly romantic.”

  “That the knockout young nurse could see past a face that scares children?”

  Her chest squeezed. He really meant it. “I don’t think it’s the scar that scares anyone.” She ran her finger down the jagged mark that slashed his face. “It’s the fact that you have a very fierce glower when you try.” She laid her palm against his cheek. “But you smiled at me when you paid for your kiss.” And she’d been sunk.

  He wasn’t smiling now, though. If anything, he looked…regretful.

  He caught her hand in his. “You should go to bed.”

  She lifted her eyebrows, even though her stomach was sinking. “I’m guessing that’s not an invitation.” She didn’t wait for the obvious answer and sat up, sliding off the bed. She lifted the rattle. “It’s a beautiful gift, Mason. But it’s much too extravagant.” That’s why she hadn’t ordered it herself. Because she couldn’t quite justify the cost.

  “It’s a gift.” His words were clipped. “You’re not supposed to worry about the expense.”

  “But—”

  “I can afford it, okay? Just because I’m not currently the picture of gainful employment doesn’t mean I’m broke.”

  “That never occurred to me.” She shook her head. “I…we’re getting off track.” The last thing she wanted to do was offend him. She turned the rattle between her fingers. “Let me try again. Thank you, Mason, for the very thoughtful gift. I’ll cherish it always.”

  “You mean, the baby will.”

  She smiled sadly. “No. I mean I will.” And then, before she could forget herself yet again where he was concerned, she went to her bedroom and closed the door.

  She held the rattle cradled against her chest and sighed.

  Chapter Nine

  “Mason looks like he’s enjoying himself.” Courtney’s cousin-in-law Tara slipped into the folding chair beside her at one of the round tables that the family had commandeered at the fall festival. Courtney looked over to where Mason was propped on his crutches among her cousins and her brother. He had his newly cast-free hand wrapped around a beer, and a grin on his face.

  “I think he’s so glad to get out of one of his casts that he’d enjoy most anything.” She smiled a little wryly.

  Until that morning, she’d believed that Mason had no intentions of coming to the festival. But when she’d gotten off duty from the hospital, he’d been up waiting for her and had asked what time the “thing” was.

  She’d been nearly stunned stupid before she’d stammered out the time.

  Then, when she’d gone to her room to grab some sleep, she’d just laid there staring at the ceiling.

  “Well, now that he’s obviously getting out and about more, maybe you can get him to Sunday dinner.”

  Courtney stifled a sigh and lifted her shoulder. “Maybe.” Every week, someone in the family put on a big Sunday dinner for whoever could come. Since Mason had arrived, Courtney had missed all but one, and he’d flatly refused to “intrude,” even though she’d assured him he wouldn’t be doing any such thing.

  Mostly, she figured he’d had enough of her family en masse when
they’d gone to her parents’ for dinner that one night.

  “D’you ever think you can figure a man out?” Realizing she’d spoken the question aloud when Tara gave her an amused look, Courtney felt her skin turn warm. “Rhetorical question,” she said quickly.

  Tara didn’t take it rhetorically, though. She looked over at the men again. “As much as a man can figure out a woman,” she said. Her gaze slid to Courtney. “It helps when you can both talk to each other about what’s going on inside.”

  Courtney couldn’t help making a face at that. “Some men are better at that than others, I’d think.”

  “So are some women,” Tara pointed out. “My personal take? When you can allow yourself to start trusting the other person not to hurt you the way you expect…or fear…then amazing things can happen.” She smiled gently. “Even coming to understand what makes that particular man tick. And understanding even better what makes you tick.”

  Courtney propped her chin on her hand. “I know what makes me tick,” she murmured. “Family.”

  “A true Clay,” Tara said. “Think that’s pretty consistent among all of you.”

  “You’re one of us now, too.”

  Tara’s gaze looked past Courtney toward the men. She smiled, and there was such a contented satisfaction in that smile, Courtney felt a little envious.

  “I still have to pinch myself sometimes,” Tara admitted. “My parents are gone, though I have my brother, of course. But your family is particularly tight. I’m not sure if all of you realize how unique that can be since it’s the way it’s always been for you.”

  “I don’t know about unique, but I do know that I can’t imagine not having the family I have.” Courtney looked at Mason. “It’s one of the reasons I never wanted to move away from Weaver. I can’t imagine growing up without that particular bedrock. We’re lucky, I know.” Then she grinned. “Even during those times when I wish—for a moment—to have just a little more privacy.”

  Tara laughed. “I have to admit there are a few times when I’ve thought the same thing.” Her eyes danced. “Particularly when the boys drop by unannounced to play pool with Axel.” She pushed her chair back and stood. She was wearing a floor-length, royal blue velvet gown, with a sword strapped around her hip. She looked like a petite character out of Narnia. “Come on. I haven’t seen you dance once yet this evening, and you’re usually the belle of the ball. Get that man you can’t stop looking at out on the dance floor.”

  “I’m pretty sure Mason doesn’t want to attempt dancing while his leg is in a cast.” Or any other time. Not with her, at any rate.

  If he did, he’d have asked her.

  That she did know about him.

  Tara lifted her brows, as if she could read exactly what was in Courtney’s thoughts. “Then dance with someone else,” she suggested pointedly. “It’s not like you haven’t been asked a dozen times already.”

  That was true enough. Courtney had turned down all the offers, though, because the only arms she was interested in holding her belonged to her enigmatic boarder.

  “Good point.” She pushed to her feet, too, and tugged down the thigh-length tunic of her orange-and-red clown costume. She glanced around, spotted a good target and made her way across the room in her long-toed red shoes. When she reached Wyatt Mead, where he was hovering against the wall near the door, she grabbed his hand. “Come and dance with me.”

  He looked horrified. “I don’t even know how.”

  “You owe me,” she reminded. “You can escape later.”

  “I wasn’t planning to escape,” he huffed.

  “Please.” She pulled him toward the dance floor. “You were just about ready to slide out the door.” She turned toward him and held up her arms. “You can either put your arms around me, or we can stand here looking like idiots.”

  He looked even more horrified and grabbed her hand in his. He put his other hand on her waist, and they began shuffling around the crowded dance area. His only concession to a costume was the wildly colored, spinning bow tie he wore with his flannel shirt and jeans.

  “Don’t worry,” Courtney told him in a low voice. “Dee is watching every move.”

  “What?”

  “Why haven’t you asked her to dance?”

  “Because I don’t know how to dance,” he reminded.

  Without any effort, she managed to guide them a little closer to Dee. Plus, she could see Mason over Wyatt’s shoulder. “Seems like you’re dancing well enough to me.”

  She could practically hear him grinding his teeth. “What do you women want, anyway?”

  She almost laughed. “We want the men we’re interested in to be interested back.”

  He frowned. “How can she not know I’m interested? We went out on a date!”

  “Did you ask her for another one?”

  “Well, not yet, but—”

  “Why not?”

  “She’s been busy. They’re doing all sorts of special stuff over at the school these days.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Courtney advised. “Busy or not, she wants to know you want her. For Pete’s sake, Wyatt. She’s not so busy that she didn’t come tonight. And as far as I can tell, she hasn’t taken her eyes off you.” For that matter, the other woman was presently glaring daggers at Courtney. “At least ask.”

  The fact that she was advising Wyatt to do what she herself refused to do was not lost on her.

  But she’d known both Wyatt and Dee for years. Nudging them together was perfectly logical when she knew how they both felt.

  Pushing herself toward Mason when she didn’t have a clue what he felt was another matter entirely. And besides, what was the point of trying to engage Mason in something that would only end sooner rather than later?

  She had plans.

  So did he.

  And those plans weren’t exactly on intersecting paths.

  The only thing they had that could conceivably intersect was chemistry.

  Good, old-fashioned S.E.X.

  She realized the song was winding down and stepped away from Wyatt. “Go on,” she insisted. “Better to ask and get shot down than not ask and never know.”

  She watched him only long enough to see him pull in a deep breath and take a step toward the side of the gymnasium where Dee was sitting.

  Then she turned.

  Her gaze collided with Mason’s from across the room.

  Her stomach dipped and swayed, but she set off toward him, marching her way around and through the crowd in her silly clown shoes until she stopped next to him. Her eyes were on him, though her smile included her brother and her cousin Casey, who were standing there with him. “Having fun?”

  “Having fun watching you try to walk in those big ol’ shoes,” Casey drawled. “You’re never gonna snag a man looking like that, honey.”

  Courtney gave her cousin a kind look. “And you’re never gonna snag a woman, Casey, unless you figure out how to open your mouth without inserting your foot in it.”

  Ryan chuckled and slid his arm around Courtney’s shoulders. “Case is just jealous,” he said, “because he knows all you have to do is crook your little finger and guys come running from miles away. He, on the other hand, hasn’t had a pretty girl look his way all night.”

  “Women are too much trouble,” Casey groused, though his gray eyes were full of goading laughter. He took a pull on his beer. “Give her an inch, and she’ll wanna take a mile.”

  “And a man like you is any different?” Courtney shook her head. Her handsome cousin was twenty-eight and showed no sign of wanting to settle down. Which was not to say that he didn’t enjoy his share of female company. As long as it didn’t last past a night or two.

  She looked at Mason and, ignoring the dancing nerves in her stomach, gestured toward the dance floor. “Do you want to give it a try?” It was an effort, but she managed to keep her voice light. “I can be your human crutch.”

  His brows pulled together slightly. “Then I’ll be the one look
ing like a clown.”

  Even though she’d expected him to turn her down, her disappointment didn’t feel any less acute. “Never hurts to ask,” she dismissed blithely. “Ryan, how about you?”

  “Since my wife abandoned me to deliver a baby and my daughter prefers the company of the games over there—” he jerked his chin toward the side of the room that was set up with carnival-style games “—might as well.”

  Courtney rolled her eyes. “So good for my ego.” But she was smiling as she headed out to the dance area and turned to her brother, because it still struck her as a miracle that he was around at all.

  He smoothly swept her into a two-step. “How’s it going with Hyde?”

  “Fine.”

  He smiled faintly. “Okay. Now, how’s it really going with Hyde?”

  “Fine,” she insisted.

  “What about the two of you playing tonsil hockey at the hospital?”

  “We most certainly weren’t doing anything of the sort!”

  He raised his eyebrow.

  She huffed. “First of all, that was weeks ago. Second, you know what gossip is like in this town. Things get blown completely out of proportion.”

  “I can always tell when you’re lying.”

  She exhaled noisily. “I’m not lying! Admittedly, he’s not the perfect patient, but he’s come a long way in the time he’s been here.”

  “So, you’re telling me that the only thing going on under your roof is the nurse-patient deal?”

  She swallowed. “That’s all.” And that, sad to say, was the truth.

  “Then why,” he asked in a low voice, “did he have Axel drive him to the drugstore yesterday, where he bought a box of condoms?”

  She stumbled over her own bright red clown shoes. “I have no idea,” she said faintly. “Maybe you should ask him.”

  Her brother’s eyes were narrowed, obviously unconvinced. “Maybe I will,” he said.

  She cleared her throat, desperate to change the subject. “So, um, when I was watching Chloe for you last weekend, she told me she’s decided it’s time you and her mom give her a baby brother or sister.”