If Only (7 page)

She comforted her husband, rubbing her hands up and down his back and across the width of his shoulders. “Yes, sweetheart,” she murmured quietly, speaking the words breaking her heart. “I’m sure.”

Scott’s shoulders began to shake with emotion as he lowered his head. “What am I going to do without her?” He sounded like a lost little boy instead of a full-grown man.

She didn’t know what she should do. She had never before seen Scott so distraught. Her husband, the love of her life, was hurting, and it was all her fault. She cursed herself under her breath. She should never have said anything. But was it really better for him to be in the dark when she knew what was going to happen? Wasn’t it in his best interest to be forewarned so it wasn’t such a tremendous shock when his mother told him?

He eyed her as he ran his hands through her curly hair. “Will she be alive to see our baby being born?” he asked quietly, his hands stilling.

Her heart felt like it was being ripped out of her chest. Swallowing hard, she replied, her voice breaking, “No, honey, she won’t.”

Scott stood up and without any warning, slammed his fist roughly against the wall. Bree jumped off the bed with a startled yelp as her body began to shake with the recollection of another place and another time … and another husband. Seeing she was visibly shaken, he reached out his hand for her, but fearing him, she turned away without a word. Sighing deeply, he ran a hand through his dark hair. “Damn, baby,” he spoke with pain lacing his voice. “I’m sorry.”

He cleared his throat as she looked down at the carpeting, refusing to meet his dark gaze.
She is afraid of me,
he realized with sudden clarity. For the first time since they had been married, Bree was frightened of him. And he wasn’t upset with her, he was upset with himself. He had lashed out at the person he loved the most in this world, his very own wife, for telling him the truth. Scott sighed again as he pressed a hand against the back of his neck. Observing her, he murmured softly, “I need to get the hell out of here.”

“But you just got back,” she protested softly.

He threw his hands up in frustration. “I need to get the hell out of here,” he repeated, a blank look on his face. “I need some time to think.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” she asked.

He shook his head as he tucked his hands into the front pockets of his stone-washed jeans. “No, thanks,” he replied. He gave her a little half-smile as he saluted her in a playful gesture. After blowing her a kiss, he spoke, “I’ll be back in a little while in a better mood.” He covered his heart with one hand. “I promise. Get some rest, baby.” Giving her a wicked grin, he continued, “You might need it later.”

She crossed the length of the floor and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry I had to be the bearer of bad news,” she apologized.

Scott’s hands came up to gently stroke the sides of her face as he whispered, “You should never apologize for doing the right thing, Bree. I have an incredible day planned for the two of us, and when I come back, we can get started.” His hands caressed her stomach, cupping her tenderly. “You two lovely ladies get some rest. I’ll be back for you two wild women later.”

As she watched him leave, Bree pressed her back against the door frame. She stood there for a long while, long after he had already gotten into the car and driven away. She had been so sure she was doing the right thing by telling him the truth, but now she wasn’t so sure. Her heart was still telling her it had been the right thing to do, but her head was telling her something completely different.

Chapter 5

Scott unlocked the front door and let himself into the living room with a weary sigh. Even after being gone for over three hours, he still couldn’t make heads or tails out of this whole situation. If anything, he was even more confused than ever. But he had his lifeline. Bree. Just thinking about her put a smile on his face. She would help him through this tragedy, just like she had when his father died. She was his rock, and she always would be.

“Bree?” he called out as he walked across the living room floor, tossing his key ring carelessly onto the television console. “Bree, baby, I’m home!”

His steps faltered when he discovered his wife lying lengthwise on the floral couch, sound asleep. A smile spread across his face as his gaze feasted upon her sleeping form. He was the luckiest man in the entire world to have her as his wife.

She had changed into an off-the-shoulder, cotton-candy-pink cashmere sweater which hugged her delicate curves in all the right places. Her long, slender legs were encased in snug black jeans, which completed the ensemble.

Scott grinned to himself. She wouldn’t be able to wear that kind of clothing for much longer, so he might as well enjoy the view.

At that moment, Bree rolled over and released an unladylike snore, almost causing him to laugh out loud. She was now lying spread-eagle on her back, and he found himself fascinated by the sight of her perfectly proportioned breasts rising and falling with each breath she took.

“Are you going to stand there and gawk at me all day, you pervert?” she queried with an innocent smile. She laughed when he jumped back like he had been stung.

“What can I say?” he answered smoothly as he gave her a flirtatious wink. “I enjoy staring at a beautiful woman.”

She sat upright on the couch, tucking her long legs beneath her as she placed a pale green afghan across her lap. Cocking her auburn head in his direction, she folded her right hand underneath her head.

Bree seemed concerned, her emerald green gaze suddenly focusing on his hands. When his eyes followed her steady stare, he realized what she had been watching so intently was the sight of his hands shaking. Quickly, he shoved both hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“Are you all right, sweetie?” she inquired, her voice sympathetic and tender.

Without a word, he crossed the length of the living room floor to where she was sitting and sat down beside her with a frustrated groan. He eyed her without speaking and then pressed his dark head against her chest. She was silent as she ran her fingers through his windblown hair and kissed his forehead.

Chokingly, he murmured uncertainly, “Bree, baby, I need you. Is that all right?”

Bree gazed down at her husband, her smile softening. He was staring up at her, his eyes pleading for her understanding. He looked like a little boy asking for his mother’s permission, and she knew she couldn’t refuse him even if she tried. Her heart went out to him. She nodded, reaching her arms out for him.

“I can’t promise to be gentle,” he forewarned, his voice raw with emotion.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she stared into his chocolate brown eyes. “I won’t break,” she murmured as she pressed her lips to his.

That was all the invitation Scott needed. His callused hands roamed underneath her sweater, running up and down the expanse of her bare back. He removed the garment in one swift motion, his lips stroking her naked skin.

Bree groaned as he cupped her aching breasts with his rough, callused hands. She crushed her body to his, wantonly rubbing herself against him. His tongue stroked her, suckling her through the delicate fabric of her bra. She closed her eyes as waves of pleasure washed over her.

Scott whispered, “Damn, Bree, what are you wearing?” She was dressed in a very sexy, very revealing turquoise lace bra that was barely holding her up. He hardened immediately. That sort of thing should be illegal. How was he supposed to give his wife pleasure when she was dressed like that?

“Do you like it?” She teased. And he would soon find out she was also wearing the matching lace thong. But hey, a girl had to have some secrets.

He growled as his large hands reached for the clasp, his clumsy fingers fumbling with the delicate fabric.

She lifted her auburn tresses up and off her back, allowing his hands easier access. She laughed when she heard him curse underneath his breath. “Having problems?” she queried with a throaty chuckle as her fingertips gently squeezed the tip of his throbbing manhood.

He groaned, his strong arms encircling her waist. Then he tossed her down playfully onto the sofa, seizing her arms and holding them above her head. He gave her a wicked grin when she squealed.

She could feel the hardness of his erection pressing against the apex of her thighs. “Take me, Scott,” she pleaded. “Take me.”

With a wicked grin, he grabbed the fragile fabric of her lace bra and ripped the transparent material, causing the filmy fabric to fall into his outstretched hand.

Bree gasped with dismay as she looked at the turquoise puddle of material in her husband’s hand. Examining it, she exclaimed, “You ruined it! You’ve torn apart one of my brand new bras!”

Scott held it up above her head, taunting her. Tossing it onto the floor, he growled into her ear, “I’ll buy you one hundred bras, but I would prefer it if you wouldn’t wear one at all.”

“You would,” she retorted as she stuck out her tongue at him. She looked dejectedly at the remnants of her bra lying on the floor. “If men ruled the world, all of the women would be running around naked!”

“And women wouldn’t sass their husbands,” he complained with a teasing glint in his chocolate brown eyes. “Or argue with them,” Scott added as he stared at his wife pointedly. “They would just sit there, smile, and say ‘Yes, dear.’”

She rolled her emerald green gaze in his direction and made a gagging sound. “But what a dull world that would be!” she commented as she watched her husband with a grin.

His brown gaze darkened with desire as one hand began to stroke the curve of her cheek. “You’re so beautiful, Red,” he whispered as he grabbed the sides of her face for a lengthy kiss. “I am a lucky, lucky man to have you. I would be so lost without you.” He released his grip on her, roaming slowly down the length of her arms. He smiled when Bree shivered beneath his touch. “You complete me, Bree. I am nothing without you.”

She laughed when he grabbed her and pressed her back against the arm of the couch. Reaching up, she grasped a dark lock of his tousled hair, twirling it around her little finger. “You need a haircut, shaggy.” She teased with a mischievous grin. “Your hair is getting a little too long here in the back.”

“We’re on the verge of making love, and you decide to mention I need to get a haircut?” he asked, the sound of his voice incredulous. “What’s wrong with you, woman?”

Bree chuckled as his whiskers tickled her bare skin. “You need a shave too! I think your whiskers are giving me rug burn!” She laughed aloud when she saw his jaw drop.

Scott looked over at his wife in mock outrage. He gave her a wicked grin as he threw his large body down onto hers. Burying his whiskered face into her neck, he inquired, “How does that feel, baby?”

She no longer cared whether or not her husband needed a shave. She reached around his neck, pulling his body even closer to hers. “The same as always,” she replied. “We’re a perfect fit.”

He grinned at her as he ran his fingers through her crimson curls. “Damn straight, woman,” he grumbled as his lips touched hers.

She shivered as his strong hands stroked her feminine curves. He caressed her breasts, twirling his tongue in slow, agonizing circles around each dark, engorged nipple. She arched her back against the arm of the sofa, her heaving breasts pressing against his rock-hard chest.

Scott stroked along the slope of her breasts, slowly moving downward. His hands stilled when he reached the slight curve of her abdomen. Cupping her with gentle hands, he kissed the delicate skin. She giggled at the feeling of his whiskered chin pressing against her bare stomach. He grinned up at her before once again pressing his mouth to her abdomen and whispering, “Good morning, my little darling.” He looked up, meeting his wife’s emerald green gaze. “Your mommy and I can’t wait to meet you.”

Laughing, she complained, “And you, Mr. Weston, are wearing way too many clothes!”

He quickly grabbed the bottom of his white sweater and pulled it over his head. Puffing his chest out for Bree’s inspection, he questioned her with a grin, “Is that better?”

She frowned as she examined him critically. Shaking her auburn head adamantly, she reached for the fly of his faded black jeans. “No way,” she murmured with a smile.

He released a dramatic sigh as he grinned at his wife. “You’re high maintenance, you know that?”

She shrugged her slender shoulders as she snuggled her body up against his. “But you love me anyway,” she responded with a sly smile as she kicked off her boots.

He tugged on her copper curls playfully as he growled into her ear, “You’re a cheeky woman, Mrs. Weston.”

Bree gave him a wicked grin as she ran her fingers down the naked expanse of his chest, her fingernails digging into his flesh as she traced a path clear down to his navel. She grinned when his body trembled at her touch. She circled her arms around his neck as she pressed her bare breasts against his chest. Leaning over, she murmured into his ear.

Scott responded by crushing his wife’s body across the length of the couch. She was laughing as he crushed his mouth against hers. His fingers reached for the button of her black jeans, his mouth on hers as he gradually unbuttoned the snug denim and pulled the material slowly down the length of her slender legs. His breath caught when he discovered the matching turquoise thong hardly covering the core of her femininity.

She spread her legs, wrapping them around his muscled body. “You like?” she questioned, her voice husky as she saw her husband’s reaction to the provocative lingerie.

He swallowed as his eyes feasted on her. “Oh, yeah,” he replied, his mouth suddenly dry as the Sahara Desert.

Bree’s hands roamed along the planes of his powerful calves, pausing only long enough for her fingertips to caress the telltale bulge beneath his zipper. She gave him a flirtatious wink as she slowly unbuttoned his jeans and then reached for the metallic fastener playfully with her teeth.

Scott groaned as her mouth painstakingly lowered the zipper, causing him to curse a blue streak under his breath. At this rate, he was going to explode before she had even managed to get his damn jeans off! With a frustrated moan, he clasped her wrists, lowering his body down on top of hers. “You’re taking your own sweet time, you teasing temptress!” he complained as he pressed his mouth hotly against hers, losing himself in the pleasure of her kiss.