Pregnant In Prosperino (7 page)

“And what did you find?” he asked.

“The leaky faucet in the kitchen needs to be replaced. The bathroom door lock is broken. One burner on the stove doesn't work, and there's a dent in the Sheetrock in the spare room.” She ticked off the items one after another, and felt a sudden tension rolling off Chance. “What?” She frowned worriedly. “What did I say that's upset you?”

He cast her a swift look of surprise. “What makes you think you've upset me?”

She shrugged. “I can feel it. Besides, you're suddenly grabbing the steering wheel too tightly and your jaw is clenched.”

His fingers loosened around the wheel and he released a deep sigh. “I'll fix the faucet and we'll buy a new burner for the stove, but I won't replace the Sheetrock or the bathroom door lock.”

It was her turn to look at him in surprise. “Why not?”

He frowned, his features looking hard in the glow from the dashboard lights. “I won't clean up his messes. Faucets and burners wear out, but door locks and Sheetrock get broken through violence.”

Lana felt the pain beneath the anger in his voice. “I'm sorry, Chance.” She reached out and placed a
hand on his thigh in an effort to comfort. “I'm sorry you didn't have a father like mine, one who would support you and love you, one who never raised his voice or his fists in anger.”

He dropped a hand from the steering wheel and covered hers with it. “I always envied you your relationship with your parents. And for that year that I lived on the Colton ranch, I tried to pretend I wasn't Chance Reilly, but instead was Chance Colton.”

“I was lucky by birth,” she said softly, warmed by the touch of his hand against hers. “You'll just have to find happiness and be lucky in the choices you make and the direction you choose for your life.” She turned her hand over so her fingers could entwine with his. “Maybe in fixing the wall and the lock, you'll heal some of the pain, get rid of some of the anger inside you.”

He pulled his hand away and returned it to the steering wheel. “I've got no pain inside me, and the anger will go away when I sell that place and spend his money for my pleasure.”

He might think he had no pain from his childhood, but Lana knew otherwise and she wondered if he was spending his life running from his pain, the end result a lifestyle of no ties and no commitments to anything and anyone.

“I didn't mean to place a pall on things,” she finally said, then offered him a teasing smile. “After all, it isn't every night my husband takes me out to dinner.”

“That's right,” he agreed, returning her smile with one of his own. “But I do have a word of advice.”

“What?”

“If you don't take your hand off my thigh, we'll never make it through dinner. I'll be wanting to carry you off to the nearest motel and have my way with you.” His eyes glittered with a fiery glow.

She quickly pulled her hand away, a deep blush warming her cheeks. “If you don't stop looking at me that way, I'll let you carry me off to the nearest motel and have your way with me.” Her blush deepened as she shocked herself with her own boldness. “And in a single week, you've made me utterly shameless,” she admitted.

She sobered slightly, her gaze lingering on him. “Is it wrong, Chance, for me to like sex so much? Am I…abnormal?”

He laughed and she felt the tension that had been in the air dissipate. “No, my sweet, innocent Lana. It isn't wrong and it isn't abnormal. We're good together in bed. And it's okay for you to be shameless just as long as it's always with me.”

Always. The word teased the tip of her tongue, but she knew better than to speak it aloud. He was teasing her, but she wasn't sure her answer would be in the same teasing tone. With every day that passed she was more confused about her feelings where Chance was concerned.

He wheeled into Medicino's, a popular Italian restaurant. “How does Italian sound?”

“Wonderful,” she replied.

Within minutes they were seated at a table near the back of the place. The ambience in the restaurant promoted romance. Candles burned in the center of each
small table and hanging plants provided an aura of privacy. The tables were set far enough apart to allow intimate conversations and the music that drifted lightly in the air was soft and slow.

They placed their orders, then Chance poured them each a glass of wine from the bottle he'd ordered. “Did I tell you that you look quite lovely tonight?”

“You mentioned it earlier,” she replied. He'd told her by the look in his eyes that he thought she looked good, but it was nice to hear the actual sentiment put into words once again.

“Then I'll tell you again. You look beautiful.”

“You must drive those midwestern women crazy with your sweet talk and handsome looks,” she returned lightly. She'd bet he had a girlfriend in every city, a warm female in every motel bed where he slept. She was surprised by how much this idea bothered her. She'd never had a jealous bone in her body, but the thought of Chance with other women caused a slight edge of jealousy to surge up inside her.

“Ah, finally we see the newlyweds out together.”

Lana and Chance looked up to see Angie and Harmon Graves approaching their table. Angie leaned down and kissed Lana on the cheek. “Congratulations, sweetie. I'm glad to see one of our hometown girls managed to grab this scalawag.”

“Thanks, Angie,” Lana replied, and fought down a dose of guilt at their deception.

“What are you two doing here?” Chance asked.

Harmon pointed a finger at his wife. “She's quit cooking at home, so when she gets a night off, we eat out.”

“I cook all day for other people, on my nights off I want somebody else cooking what I put in my mouth,” Angie exclaimed.

“I've been meaning to call you and thank you for that beautiful apple pie you sent home with Chance. I've always said you make the best apple pies in California and we really enjoyed it,” Lana said.

“Don't mention it,” Angie said with a pleased smile.

“Would you two like to join us?” Chance asked.

“Heavens no. You two are practically still on your honeymoon and we wouldn't dream of intruding,” Angie exclaimed. “Enjoy your dinner,” she said, then grabbed her husband's arm. “Come on, Harmon, I'm starving.”

Harmon nodded goodbye in his usual laconic fashion and the two disappeared.

“Angie is a sweetheart,” Lana said the moment they had left.

Chance nodded. “She and Harmon were my lifeline on more than one occasion.”

“What do you mean?”

“When things got too tough between me and my dad and I needed an escape, I'd often go to the café and hang out there. Angie was always very sympathetic and Harmon…” Chance laughed. “Harmon never said much, but when he did speak, he usually said something important.”

Lana took a sip of her wine, then leaned forward. “Tell me about your job, Chance. Tell me about your life in the Midwest.”

It was odd really. She'd slept with him for a little
over a week now, but didn't feel as if she'd discovered all the pieces that made him who he was. Perhaps in hearing about how he spent his days, she'd learn more facets of the man.

“There isn't a whole lot to tell. I cover a five-state area and have regular customers I sell to, but I'm also always on the lookout for new accounts.” He paused to sip his wine, then continued. “I spend a lot of time in my car, driving from one place to the next. Of course at the moment I've taken a leave of absence.”

“You enjoy driving?” she asked.

He frowned thoughtfully. “Not particularly.”

“But you like being in a different place every day?”

“Sure.” The frown disappeared from his face and he leaned back in his chair. “I love seeing different faces and different places. I like the fact that I set my own schedule. I eat when I get hungry, sleep when I'm tired and owe nobody any explanation for anything. As long as I'm selling farm equipment, my boss is happy and stays off my back.”

“But don't you get lonely?” She couldn't imagine the kind of life he had just described, rarely seeing the same people twice, waking in a different bed every morning. “It must be difficult to sustain any kind of friendships, any kind of meaningful relationships.”

His eyes took on a hardness. “I sustain the kind of relationships that suit me best—sort of like this one with you. Temporary ones.”

Again she felt as if she was being warned. Only this time, with the warning came a certain, dreadful
realization. Years ago she had been able to fall out of love with Chance Reilly. But the stunning realization was that at some point in the last week, she'd fallen in love with him all over again.

T
he discussion about his lifestyle had disturbed him. He'd thought he loved his life as a traveling salesman until she'd questioned him about it and forced him to examine it more closely.

The hours on the road, the mornings he'd awakened and not remembered what town he was in, the nights alone in a motel room all had been conducive to a loneliness he just now recognized.

And that realization had upset him and prompted him to snap at Lana and remind her that he intended to return to the life he'd lived before his father's death.

She'd been quiet since then and Chance found himself wanting to see her laugh, needing to see her eyes sparkle with pleasure and her lips curve into the smile he found so bewitching.

“Have I told you about the summer I tried to join the circus?” he asked.

Her beautiful dark eyes looked at him in surprise. “No.”

“I was twelve and the circus had come to Prosperino.” He finished the last of his wine, then continued. “By then I already knew how tough things were going to be between my father and me, so I decided a circus life seemed very appealing. But I knew I needed a special talent in order to be allowed to join the big top.”

Lana leaned forward, the scent of her perfume reaching out to surround him as a smile of anticipation lit her features. “So, what did you do?”

“For weeks before the circus arrived here, I tried to come up with something, some gimmick. I tried juggling, but quickly learned that I wasn't quick or dexterous enough. So, I decided I'd learn how to swing on a trapeze.”

Lana clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes filled with laughter and Chance continued, wanting to keep the smile on her face. “I rigged up a couple of ropes and some wood in a big tree down in the pasture.”

Her big brown eyes were the color of dark chocolates. “I'm assuming you weren't successful since you didn't leave when the circus did.”

“The first time I swung on my homemade trapeze, the rope broke and I was thrown up in the air and landed on my back about ten feet from the tree. All the air left my body and for a moment I thought sure I was dead. When I finally was able to breathe I was
too scared to try it again. So, I was a flop in my attempt to join the circus.”

The waitress appeared to take away their plates and they each ordered a cup of coffee. As they drank their coffee, their conversation remained pleasant. They spoke about their time together on the Colton ranch, speculated on what had changed Meredith Colton from a warm, generous woman to a spiteful, hateful witch.

Lana caught him up on the local gossip, telling him who had married and who had divorced. Chance enjoyed watching her as she spoke. Her expressive face reflected her thoughts and her words.

As they talked, several locals waved to Lana or greeted her with friendliness. It was easy for Chance to recognize that Lana was somebody well-liked and respected in the community.

He also found himself anticipating later that night, when they were in his bed and he could hold her warm body against his.

It was strange, he'd always thought making love to somebody new was a turn-on, that the novelty and discovery of an initial joining was the peak of excitement and repeating the experience with the same woman only became mundane.

He'd been wrong. Making love to Lana night after night had not become mundane or boring, rather his pleasure had been increased by learning and memorizing her sweet responses to his various touches. There was definitely something positive to say about familiarity.

Gazing at her, he noticed how the candlelight pos
itively loved her, caressing her features with a golden softness and dancing like fireflies on the length of her hair.

When he'd first seen her in that dangerous red dress, he'd wanted to forget dinner, forget leaving the house and instead sweep her into the bedroom and tear the garment off her.

As they'd eaten their meal, he'd been aware of other men looking at her, coveting her with heated gazes and again he'd felt the same curious thrill of possession that he'd felt when he'd seen the young Clayton stammering and blushing.

These men could look all they wanted, but she was coming home with him. She would be in his bed, in his arms, kissing his mouth before the night was over.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked when he'd paid their bill and they'd finished their coffee.

She nodded, dabbed her lips with her napkin, then stood.

It was just after eight-thirty when they stepped out of the restaurant and onto the sidewalk. “You want to walk a little bit?” he asked, then grinned. “I definitely ate too much.”

In truth, the anticipation of making love to her filled him up, but his stomach felt heavy from the meal. Besides, a little walk would merely serve to further whet his appetite for her.

“Me, too. A walk sounds good,” she agreed.

They started off at a leisurely pace, and it only seemed natural that he reach out and grab her hand in his. He liked her hands. They were soft and delicately feminine. She had long fingers with short, but
well-manicured nails. And he knew what those hands could do to him—stroke, caress, touch him with a heat that boiled his blood.

“This is my favorite time of the day,” he said, noting the sun was well into its descent, giving the landscape a golden glow.

“Why now?” she asked.

“I don't know. This is about the time I take my final walk around the ranch, check the progress of our work and feel a nice sense of accomplishment over what we've done for the day. Dusk has always been the time I take a few minutes and reflect.”

“My moments of reflection come just before I close my eyes to go to sleep,” she explained. “I think about the day gone and the one I'll face when I open my eyes.”

He smiled at her wryly. “I imagine since living with me, you fall asleep before you have time to reflect.”

“Why do you say that?” she asked.

“You do so much during the days. The house is always clean, my clothes are always washed and smell wonderful, each night you cook a terrific meal. You've got to be exhausted when you fall into bed at night.”

Her eyes twinkled with a slightly naughty glow. “But not too exhausted for other things.”

Chance laughed, his blood heating to dangerous temperatures. “I've created a monster.”

It was her turn to laugh, then she sobered and her cheeks pinkened slightly. “Seriously, I had no idea it
would be this way.” The blush on her cheeks intensified. “I had no idea I'd like it so much.”

“That's because I'm an exceptionally skilled and magnificent lover,” Chance teased.

“I think you might be right,” she replied and again Chance's inner temperature rose. “Oh, look,” she said suddenly. “It finally opened.” She pointed across the street to a shop that had a Grand Opening sign in the window. “I've been waiting and waiting for it to open up.”

“Then I guess we'd better go in and take a look around,” Chance said.

Her eyes shone with excitement and she clapped her hands together. “You mean it? I mean, I could always come back another time by myself.”

Chance smiled at her with amused indulgence. “You just said you've been waiting and waiting. I don't want you to wait another minute. Just lead the way.”

She tugged on his hand and pulled him toward the corner where they could cross the street, as if afraid he might change his mind.

Chance figured it was some kind of a dress boutique or maybe one of those stores that sold sexy lingerie. It wasn't until she was pulling him over the threshold that he realized exactly what kind of store it was—a baby store.

Strollers, cribs, high chairs and bassinets were prominently displayed just inside the door. Farther in the back were racks of clothing, bottles, stuffed animals, apparently everything needed to make a healthy, happy baby.

Chance wanted to back out of the door, take Lana by the hand and escape from the sweet-smelling store with its pastel-colored walls and lullaby music. But Lana was already off and running, oohing and aahing over an oak crib with a canopy.

“Oh, Chance, isn't it beautiful?” she asked, her eyes shining with the same kind of glow they'd possessed when she had held her niece.

“You have great taste,” a saleslady said as she approached where Chance and Lana stood. She placed a hand on the crib railing. “This is one of the top of the line with extra safety features and the added highlight that it changes into a toddler bed when the little one gets too big for a crib.”

Lana smiled wistfully. “It is beautiful.” She gazed at the price tag and winced. “We're just window shopping right now,” she explained to the sales clerk.

“Please, feel free to wander around the store.” She winked at Lana. “And if you fill out a card to get on our mailing list, we'll give you a free gift.” She smiled with genuine friendliness. “The gift isn't so great, but the flyers will let you know when we're running special sales, and you never know when this crib might go on special.”

“Thanks, I'll fill out a card,” Lana said.

“I'll just leave you two to wander.” The woman drifted away to greet another couple entering the shop.

Reluctantly Chance followed behind Lana as she went up and down the aisles, lingering over itty-bitty sleepers, soft receiving blankets and amusing tiny
T-shirts. He couldn't help but grin as she held up a pair of the smallest cowboy boots he'd ever seen.

Still, as he watched her running her fingers over the soft blankets, it was easy to imagine her with a baby in her arms.

She would be an excellent mother, strong enough to raise a child with patience and love. Her child would be one of the lucky ones—desperately wanted and loved. Her little boy or girl would never know the sting of demeaning words, would never know the pain of a backhand or fist in the face.

My child.

The words suddenly shouted in his head. The baby she would carry would not just be hers but his as well. Half of his DNA would be carried by the baby Lana eventually had.

Although on some level, he'd known this, he hadn't truly thought about it until this very moment. Genetically, he would always be bound to her child. What would she tell her child about its father? That the child had been created so Daddy could get his ranch and leave forever? He suddenly needed to know how she was going to handle telling a little boy or a little girl about him.

“Lana?”

“Hmm,” she said absently, her attention focused on a night-light that also played music.

“What are you going to tell the baby about me?”

That got her undivided attention. She looked at him in surprise. “I'm not sure…I hadn't really thought about it.”

“Sooner or later a baby grows up and has questions
that need to be answered.” Chance frowned. “Are you going to tell him or her about our bargain?”

Lana mirrored his frown thoughtfully. “No,” she finally said decisively. “I'll just say that we married, it didn't work out and we divorced. In this day and age, divorce is so common.”

“And what if he asks why I'm not a part of his life?”

Her frown deepened. “I don't know, Chance. I can't tell you right now exactly what I'm going to say. But, whatever I say, it will be in the best interest of the child.”

Chance nodded, satisfied with her answer for the moment.

He was relieved when she finally started for the door, stopping only at the counter to fill out a card to be placed on the mailing list. He watched over her shoulder as she filled it out, somehow disquieted when he saw her write the address to her apartment rather than the ranch.

“You could have written down the ranch address,” he said to her as they left the shop and headed back to his car.

She shrugged. “There's really no point. I check my mail at my apartment every week or so, and we'll be divorced and you'll be gone from Prosperino long before the baby is born.”

Although he knew she was right, and it had been what he'd been reminding her of from the moment they'd gotten married, he couldn't understand why her cool, unemotional recitation of the facts somehow depressed him.

 

“So, how does it feel to be celebrating your one-month anniversary?” Maya asked her sister. “Do you and Chance have anything special planned for the night?”

“No, nothing.” Lana speared a tomato from her salad, but instead of eating it, set her fork down across the side of her plate. “Maya, I have a confession to make.”

The two were seated in Chance's kitchen. Rain had cancelled any work for the day and Chance had driven into town to order more supplies and eat lunch with an old friend from high school. He'd told her he'd be home in time for dinner.

Lana had taken the opportunity to invite her sister over for lunch with the express purpose of confessing the real reasons behind her marriage to Chance.

“A confession? Hmm, sounds intriguing.” Maya shot a glance at her daughter, sleeping soundly in an infant carrier on the floor, then gazed once again at her sister.

Lana took a deep breath, dreading telling her sister the truth, yet unable to continue the charade. “My marriage to Chance isn't real.”

Maya frowned in confusion. “What do you mean, it isn't real? You didn't really get married by a justice of the peace?” A grin curved the corners of her lips and her eyes widened. “Are you telling me that my proper, straitlaced older sister is living in sin with a man?”

“No, it's nothing like that,” Lana hurriedly pro
tested. “We really got married, but we have no intention of staying married.”

“What?” Maya leaned forward, any hint of a smile gone.

Lana stared down at her salad and prepared herself for her sister's reaction to what she was about to say. “It was a business arrangement. Chance couldn't inherit this place unless he was married. His father had it written in his will that way.” She glanced back up to see Maya staring at her in shock.