A Precious Gift Page 6

  What was Brian feeling about all of this? Was he worried, too, that Lisa would want to keep her baby? He was so good at controlling his emotions. He’d once told Carrie she’d make a terrible poker player because she didn’t know how to bluff. She’d never played poker with Brian, but she suspected he’d be very good at it.

  When Brian came in, Lisa was sitting in the living room and Carrie was trying not to pace.

  “Is everything all right?” he asked the teenager. “With your health? With the baby?”

  “The doctor said I’m doing okay. I’m supposed to rest when I’m tired and take my blood pressure if I feel dizzy. I told her Carrie had one of those cuffs. I don’t really want to talk to you about all that. It’s the baby.”

  “Go on,” Brian encouraged her.

  Carrie could see he was truly worried.

  Lisa looked down at her tummy under the huge T-shirt. “I guess I really didn’t see this kid as real before today, even though I look like this.” She tried to give both of them a little smile. “But when I saw that sonogram—”

  She stopped and looked at Carrie with moist eyes. “I knew I had to do something. I knew I had to make a decision. About the two of you, I mean.”

  Carrie felt as if her whole life, her whole marriage, depended on what Lisa was going to say next. Sitting down beside her, she waited, her heart pounding.

  “You two really want a baby, I can tell. And I can see from all this—” she waved at the furniture and the draperies in the living room “—that you can give this kid a good life, every possible advantage. I picked you out of a whole lot of other people for a bunch of reasons. I wanted to see if you matched up to what I read. I think you do. So if you want to adopt this baby after it’s born, you can.”

  Brian looked over at Carrie then back at Lisa. “Are you sure you want to make this decision so quickly? You’ve known us less than a week.”

  “I’m sure.” Pushing herself to her feet, she gave both of them a weak smile. “I’m tired. I’m going to my room to rest now.”

  Before Lisa could move toward her room, Carrie gave her a tight hug. “We’ll never be able to thank you.”

  “We can try. Have you thought about whether you’d like to go to college?” Brian asked.

  “You’re kidding!”

  “No, I’m not. You think about it, all right?”

  Lisa’s eyes were shiny as she nodded, then waddled down the corridor to the guest bedroom.

  “Do you think we can count on this?” Carrie asked Brian. “I’m almost afraid to.”

  Tugging her to him, he enfolded her into his arms. It felt so good to feel his strength, to be one in the moment. “It will work out,” he assured her.

  “I’m afraid to get too excited. What if she changes her mind?”

  “I think she made a decision so she knows where she can go from here. If she doesn’t want college, maybe there’s some other kind of training school she’d like to go to. But the bottom line is we’re going to have a baby, Mrs. Summers.” He leaned back and gave Carrie a real smile. The Brian smile that had first weakened her knees.

  She grinned back until the reality hit her. “We have to get ready! Her due date’s in three weeks. There’s so much to do—a nursery, a layette—”

  “We’ll get it all done,” Brian soothed. “In fact, we can probably accomplish the nursery in one night. I’ve got to get back to my office now, but I can be home around six. Look up baby stores in the phone book and pick out the one you want to go to. We’ll choose the furniture tonight.”

  Carrie couldn’t believe Brian was going to be home that early. She couldn’t believe he was going to spend the evening with her. This baby was going to change their lives.

  When Brian bent his head to kiss her, Carrie felt tears well up. His lips were gentle on hers at first, then he deepened the kiss. She felt his intensity and hunger and need.

  As he reluctantly broke away, she felt shaken. Her response to him had left her trembling. “I’m looking forward to tonight.” She felt almost bold as she said it.

  He ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “So am I.” The desire in his voice made her heart leap.

  “See you tonight,” he promised and then headed for the door.

  That evening Carrie stood next to Brian as he examined a crib. She could smell the spicy scent of his shaving soap. He’d come home about quarter of six, taken a shower and changed, and driven them to first one store and then this one. He was wearing his black leather bomber jacket and black jeans tonight and looked so sexy her tummy did somersaults every time she looked at him. Electrical current from this afternoon was still sparking between them.

  As she stood close to him now, acutely aware of his six-two height, his broad shoulders, his strong arms, she asked, “What do you think about this one?”

  “I like the walnut finish for a boy. I also like the fact that once he grows out of the crib, we can buy a bed to go with the suite. The changing table will turn into a chest and the dresser will be perfect for a growing boy.”

  Already Brian was thinking about their child growing up. “He won’t be out of the crib for at least two years,” she teased.

  “Maybe we should buy the bed, too, and store it until he’s ready for it.”

  She could see her husband was completely serious. He always liked to be prepared and never wanted to be taken by surprise.

  Thoughts of the crib and a bed trailed away as she saw a couple walking down the aisle on the other side of the bedroom furniture. Her heart almost stopped as she recognized the woman—Lori Dutera, the counselor her mother had found for her after her abortion.

  Since her modeling career had taken off, Carrie had found an apartment in Portland after her high-school graduation. It had amazed her that she could afford one and still send lots of money home to her family. During her senior year in high school, her agent had gotten her shoots in New York, L.A. and London. They’d been handled on weekends and over holidays. That summer after graduation she’d become a model full-time, but in August her life had changed forever.

  Carrie hadn’t experienced flashbacks in years, but seeing Lori triggered memories she’d wanted to bury.

  The August night that summer had been damp, with a drizzle in the humid air. Yet, after a late photo shoot, Carrie had felt the need to walk—to let her hair curl where it wanted to and not worry what she looked like when she got to her own doorstep. Two blocks from her apartment house, it had happened.

  Her breath stilled in her chest as the vision of a man wearing a black ski mask returned. She remembered thinking how ludicrous he looked in August. That had been her last coherent thought until she’d stumbled back into her apartment an hour later and locked the door. Not only locked it, but barricaded it with a chair and an end table. She’d felt so unsafe. That was about all she’d felt because everything else had gone numb.

  Reliving it all again, she recalled stumbling to her bedroom and then into the shower, not even stripping off her clothes until the hot water had beat down on her. She’d stripped and soaped herself over and over again. Still tears hadn’t come, because she’d shut down. She never even remembered getting out of the shower. She never remembered crawling into bed.

  The following morning when the phone rang, she’d been chilled and the sheets had been damp. She’d supposed she’d never dried off. She hadn’t intended to pick up the receiver but somehow her mother’s voice on her answering machine had cut into the fog surrounding her, and she’d reached for the phone reflexively, as if it were a lifeline. When her mother had asked her what was wrong, she couldn’t tell her. She could only cry.

  After Paula Bradley attempted to make any sense of what her daughter had said and hadn’t said, she’d gotten into the new car Carrie’s earnings had bought and driven to Portland from the town of Windsor almost an hour and a half away. Leaving Whitney, who was then sixteen, in charge of her two younger sisters, Mary and Brenda, Paula had told her husband to keep watch on them. He might be disabl
ed and had trouble getting around, but he could lift the phone to call a neighbor if he needed help.

  Paula had banged on her daughter’s apartment door until Carrie finally looked through the peephole and opened it. Then she’d collapsed in her mother’s arms.

  Somehow her mother had gotten the story out of Carrie. There was no talk of going to the police. Paula had insisted they shouldn’t tell anyone—Carrie’s reputation was at stake, her modeling career was at stake. That modeling career was now paying most of the Bradleys’ bills. Her mother had insisted on taking her back to Windsor. There, all she said to the rest of the family was that Carrie was exhausted, sick and needed time to rest.

  The only person she’d confided in was Carrie’s agent, Ian MacGregor, who’d cleared Carrie’s schedule. However, three weeks later when Carrie began losing her breakfast, her mother bought a pregnancy test and confirmed the worst possible news—her daughter was pregnant. With Carrie’s future on the line as well as the family’s, Paula had known what to do about that, too. She’d had a friend whose daughter had gotten into trouble at fifteen and they’d found a doctor who could do an abortion cheaply.

  It had been done cheaply, all right, Carrie thought now, coming back to the present with sheer force of willpower, looking back at that summer instead of reliving it. Three days later, she’d spiked a hundred-and-five-degree fever. The doctor who had performed the abortion prescribed antibiotics. Slowly, she’d physically recovered, but emotionally she’d felt dead. She hadn’t eaten or slept, and she couldn’t leave the house.

  In time, her mother took a different tack and drove Carrie back to her apartment in Portland. There, through a rape crisis center she’d found Lori Dutera and had gone with Carrie to therapy sessions every day for a week. When her mom was sure Carrie could and would keep the appointments on her own, her mother had returned home, yet called Carrie twice a day or more. With the help of Lori, Carrie had turned a nasty corner in her life and finally had seen rays of sunshine again. Each day she’d become stronger until finally, when Ian had called her in January and asked if she would consider modeling for a shampoo ad, she’d said yes.

  That commercial had gotten her back into the business again. That spot had led to a contract with Modern Woman, a nationwide cosmetics company. Safe modeling, her agent had called it, being as protective of her as he would his own daughter. With Modern Woman, she didn’t have anything to do with low cleavage or skimpy clothes. She had always dressed elegantly, classically and had been proud of the image. Lori had helped her achieve that.

  Carrie hadn’t seen the psychologist since her relationship with Foster Garrett had ended. After Foster had walked out of her life, her appointments with Lori had become less frequent. By the time she’d met Brian, she was no longer in therapy.

  Now Lori’s gaze met hers, and abrupt recognition dawned. The brunette stopped, and the man by her side stopped with her. Lori looked to be around seven months pregnant. Though nearly forty now, she still wore her dark-brown hair in a braid down her back. The glow on her face said her happiness was due to her pregnancy.

  When the couple halted on the other side of the crib, Brian switched his focus from the furniture to them.

  Lori said simply, “Hi, Carrie. It’s been a while.”

  “About six years,” Carrie agreed, suddenly incredibly calm. She knew the counselor would give nothing away. Because Lori had once known everything about her, because they’d become friends of sorts back then, Carrie explained, “This is my husband, Brian. Brian, this is Lori Dutera.”

  After Lori introduced her husband, Vince, she said easily, “It was good to see you again,” and the Duteras moved on.

  “An old friend?” Brian asked.

  Keep it simple, Carrie reminded herself. Blocking out the events that had led up to meeting Lori, trying to forget the anguish and the pain, she responded, “Yes, an old friend. We’ve fallen out of touch over the years.”

  Then acting as if the encounter had meant nothing to her at all, she rested her hand on the crib rail beside Brian’s. “I think you’re right about buying the bed to go with this now.”

  He grinned at her. “Great minds think alike. Let’s see how soon we can have it all delivered.”

  An hour later Brian coasted his sedan into the garage, switched off the ignition, and then unsnapped his seat belt. He knew Carrie had been as excited as he had been after Lisa had made her proclamation this afternoon. But after buying the baby furniture, his wife had gone very quiet.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked as she unbuckled her shoulder harness.

  Her expression showed surprise that he’d asked. He obviously didn’t do that enough.

  “I guess the awesome responsibility of what we’re about to do is finally hitting me.”

  The sedan’s leather seats had an armrest between them. Raising the armrest, Brian moved closer to her and encircled her shoulders with his arm. “I think we’re ready for it, don’t you?”

  “I hope so. It’s just that raising a child is about more than furnishing a nursery. Neither of us came from the ideal situation. I’m hoping we know enough to be good parents.”

  “I have no doubt you’re going to be a fantastic mother. You practiced with your sisters.” Carrie’s mother had cleaned houses to supplement her husband’s disability checks. That had pushed Carrie to grow up quickly and take on more responsibility than a child should have to bear.

  “My dad would have been a better father if my mother hadn’t left,” Brian admitted, thinking about how his upbringing compared to hers.

  Carrie shifted toward him. She was wearing a hooded fleece jacket tonight. She was soft and feminine and always smelled of a flower garden. Leaning against his shoulder, she suggested, “Your dad could never get past the bitterness of your mom leaving. I think he gambled to forget. Maybe if he’d looked for love again—”

  “He wasn’t taking any chances on a woman again and I don’t blame him. My mother betrayed him. He could never trust anybody again.” The past was something Brian didn’t like to talk about, and he wasn’t sure how they’d tumbled into the conversation now.

  He brushed his jaw against the top of Carrie’s head. “We’re going to make good parents.” Shifting toward her, he studied her. She was so very beautiful, so very sincere, so very…good. He’d needed that, and right now he needed her.

  “We should go in,” he said with a decided lack of conviction.

  “I know,” she murmured, not moving away.

  His lips rested against her temple, tasting her skin. He breathed in her scent. It was intoxicatingly seductive as he kissed her cheekbone.

  “Brian,” she whispered.

  He heard something in the sound of his name that stopped him. Leaning back, he studied her once more. “Is something wrong?”

  “No! No. I’m just so grateful for you, for your gentleness. It takes my breath away sometimes. That’s all.”

  Her words triggered a fire that fueled his passion for her. Sliding his hand into her hair, he tipped her head back and sealed his lips to hers.

  It took a moment until Brian could feel Carrie respond to the kiss, respond to him. Kissing Carrie always shook him because emotion rose up that he usually kept at bay. Hunger tried to escape the confines of his tight control. Need became a flaw he didn’t want to recognize. When he kissed Carrie, he felt powerful and weak at the same time. The irony of that unsettled him. Tonight, however, with the knowledge that they’d soon be parenting a child together, with the family he’d always wanted becoming a reality, he let nature take its course.

  The innate attraction they’d always felt for each other pushed away everything else. When he unzipped Carrie’s jacket, she didn’t protest and when her hand slipped below his belt, he didn’t stop her. As he caressed her breast, she pressed her palm against his erection. Groaning, he slid his tongue over her teeth, exploring every erotic zone in her mouth.

  The light that had automatically gone on when the garage door wa
s activated suddenly went out, and they were plunged into darkness. He felt Carrie’s intake of breath. She liked light. Even when she went to bed she always kept on the nightlight in the bathroom off the bedroom. Her hand had stilled the moment the garage had gone dark.

  Enfolding her closer to him, he broke the kiss. “We really should go in. Lisa probably heard the garage door go up. She could come out and check any minute to see what we’re doing.”

  “She’s probably watching TV,” Carrie murmured.

  Brian switched on the map light under the dashboard and gazed at his wife, smoothing her hair behind her ear. “Lisa could take one look at you and know what we’ve been doing.” His wife’s lips were pink and swollen, her hair was mussed from his fingers running through it. She was flushed, too.

  “I don’t think she’d be shocked,” Carrie said lightly.

  “I agree it would probably take a lot to shock her, but I don’t want to talk about Lisa. I’d rather go up to our bedroom and finish what we started.”

  His body was demanding release. From the bright sparkle in Carrie’s eyes and the heat in her cheeks, he suspected she’d still be in the mood, too, when they got upstairs.

  “I’ll leave the dashlight on until you get inside.”

  He’d intended to kiss her one last time before she left the car, except his cell phone rang. Pulling it off the charger attached under the dash, he answered automatically, “Summers Development.”

  When Carrie heard him say, “Hi, Rob. No, I didn’t pick up my messages. I’ve been busy.” She pointed to the door leading into the kitchen, signaling to Brian that she was going to go inside.

  He nodded.

  Climbing out of the car, Carrie closed the door as quietly as she could, went up the step, turned off the alarm system, walked past the mudroom and entered the kitchen.

  After she’d seen Lori in the furniture store, she’d tried everything in her power to keep old memories from coming alive again. She was done with all of that now. She’d gone on, although she’d always be thankful for the help Lori had given her. Her therapist’s insights and wise guidance had helped Carrie rebuild her life. Still, it was hard to shake off the shadows that had engulfed her when she’d seen Lori again, and Brian must have sensed something.