SEAL the Deal (29 page)

But why had she reacted like that? Was it
jealousy? Most likely. She’d been doing a pretty impressive job of concealing
her own yearning for a child as she watched Bess walk the waist-expanding path
to motherhood.

Every time Bess took Maeve’s hand to share
a kick, one half of Maeve’s heart leapt and the other half shattered to bits.

But today, seeing those toys that Jack
brought, something snapped. Was it because it was Jack showering gifts on Bess?

Was there some part of her that wished
Jack would do the same for her, for the baby she would never have?

The baby
they
would never have, she
dared to take the thought one step further. Maeve had to admit having a fantasy
or two from time to time about settling down with Jack, sharing in marriage the
same contented relationship they shared as friends.

Add to that, the hot sex she still
remembered vividly, even though it had been nearly a decade since they went
down that road. The guy was a freaking gymnast in bed.

Maeve frowned at the array of spices. Absurd
idea. Marrying Jack.

She couldn’t deny the attraction. It was
there, just as it was seven years ago. But this morning she had been reminded
why she was determined to steer clear of him. Some men were meant to have kids.
Broods of kids. Jack was one of them. She only had to look at the mountain of
toys he had bought for Bess’s child to see it.

One eyebrow raised. And really, she
thought, why couldn’t it be with Bess? She was young and obviously fertile as a
rabbit. He had a big enough heart to care deeply for the child Bess already
had. Maeve knew that for a fact. The guy’s heart was the size of Montana.

So was the size of his…

Maeve gave herself a shake. Mustn’t let her
mind wander in that direction. No, Jack wasn’t for her. But Bess? It would be
nice to know that Bess’s baby had a father Maeve approved of. Someone strong
enough to kick the ass of that ex-boyfriend if he ever reared his ugly head in
this town.

It might be an idea worth pursuing—if,
that is, she could stand to watch Jack settle down with someone other than
herself.

Which she’d have to do eventually anyway.

She shook her head ruefully. God, it was
hell being her these days.

She plucked her ringing cell from her
purse. “Hey, Lacey. How’d the showings go?”

“Maeve, I’m at the hospital with Bess. She
started bleeding.”

Maeve froze in the middle of the produce
aisle. “
What
?”

“They’ve already admitted her, and the
doctor wants to do lots of tests. So far, the baby looks fine.”

By the time Lacey made it through the
sentence, Maeve had abandoned her grocery basket in the middle of the aisle and
was halfway out the door. “How is Bess?”

“Really upset, as you can imagine. Scared.
But I think she’s doing better now that we’ve heard the baby’s heart beat.”

Maeve couldn’t help the lump in her
throat. “My God, that little tike. She’s got to hold on a little longer before
making her debut.”

“Exactly.”

“I’m at my car now and on my way.”

Jack carried a cold six-pack of Cokes in
from the kitchen, and tossed cans to Maeve, Lacey, and Mick. “You know, after
smelling hospital smells all last night, this paint actually smells good to me.”

“You don’t like the smell of paint?”
Feeling a wet drop on her cheek, Lacey wiped, smearing pink halfway across her
face.

“No, do you?”

Lacey took a deep breath. “Oh, yeah. I
love the smell.”

Mick laughed, opening Lacey’s can for her,
and then using the bottom edge of his sleeve to wipe the paint from her face. His
hand rested on her cheek one second longer than it needed to, and the simple
touch sent a warm tingling down her neck. “You learn something new every day. Remind
me to skip the perfume for a Valentine’s Day gift and give you a gallon of this
instead.” He poured more Pink Paradise into her roller pan.

Appreciating the view as Mick bent over, a
smile crept up Lacey’s face. The contours of his muscular back and arms through
the thin Henley had a way of making the simplest action as sexy as hell.

“And this is the no-VOC paint,” Maeve
added. “Imagine her with the hard stuff.”

“Oh, quit it and get back to work. We only
have one day to get this done.”

“
If
Bess gets out of the hospital
tomorrow,” Mick reminded her.

“If. But I’m optimistic. All the tests
came back fine.”

“Need a hand here, Mick,” Jack said,
holding up half the changing table. “Think you can handle some man’s work?”

Mick set down his pink-saturated paintbrush
and shot him a glare. “If I were putting that thing together it would have been
done an hour ago.” He picked up one end of the half-assembled piece. “All that
nuclear training, and you can’t even put together a diaper changing table.” Letting
out a slight grunt, he sat on the floor among the pieces of finished wood.

“A little trouble sitting down, old man?”
Jack teased.

“Back’s a little sore from yesterday.”

Jack tossed Lacey a smirk. “Well, well. Now
we know what you two were up to when you got back from the hospital.”

“It’s from shoveling, dumb ass. And I
didn’t see you out there helping me with Maeve’s. Scared of a little hard
labor?”

“If I throw my back out for Maeve, it’ll
be doing something completely different from shoveling, believe me. Besides,
it’s not that big of a driveway. Never would have imagined you’d need help. I
could have had it done in a half hour.”

Lacey sighed. “Oh, boy, here we go.”

“Hmmm?” asked Maeve, her back facing them as
she streaked her roller up against the wall.

“It’s the dick measuring contest again.”

Maeve turned immediately, then shot Lacey
a disappointed look. “Damn, I thought you meant literally. They’re still
clothed.”

Lacey laughed, glancing out the window as
another cloud passed in front of the sun. “Hope those clouds don’t build till
the electrician comes to install the chandelier. We really need the light.”

Maeve glanced at the clock. “We’ll be
fine. He’ll be here in a half hour. Shouldn’t take him long either, if we stay
out of his way.”

“Don’t see why you need an electrician for
that. I’ve installed light fixtures before,” Mick offered.

“So have I,” Jack piped in, always in
competition. “I’ve even installed dimmers.”

“Boys, boys. I’m sure you both could do it.
But I’m not risking anything. Last place I need faulty wiring is in a baby’s
room. Besides, the electrician is the hottest number since that lawn boy.”

Lacey made her face light up in feigned
interest. “Really?”

Mick definitely noticed.

“Really,” Maeve answered. “Gay as a maypole,
though, unfortunately. But still great to look at. Definitely a 10. What a
waste.”

 “Depends on your perspective. I’m
sure his boyfriend doesn’t think it’s a waste,” Jack suggested diplomatically.

“Can’t wait to see what a 10 looks like,”
Mick grumbled.

Lacey snickered. “Well, remember that lawn
boy? He was a 9.”

Mick’s eyes met Lacey’s. “So what am I?”

Lacey and Maeve glanced at each other, and
said in unison, “9 ½.”

Mick punched Jack in the arm. “Better than
lawn boy,” he pointed out.

“9 ½?” Jack fired a look at Maeve. “Then
what am I?”

Maeve eyed him discriminately and
shrugged. “A 7, I guess.”

“
He’s
a 9 ½,” Jack said,
pointing at Mick, “and I’m just a 7?”

Maeve’s eyes widened innocently. “What? I’ve
seen Mick with his shirt off. It’s been years since I’ve seen what’s beneath
that packaging. Things tend to sag with time.”

Jack’s eyes flashed in challenge as he ripped
his shirt over his head, revealing a tight abdomen rippled with muscles, and
sculpted arms that didn’t need flexing to look impressive.

The temperature in the room increased by
ten degrees.

Lacey snickered quietly, fanning herself.

“So what do you think now?” Jack asked,
daring Maeve.

Maeve just grinned. “I don’t know yet. Keep
going.”

***

Rolling over, Lacey frowned at the feel of
cool sheets alongside her. She wished Mick would have spent the night, but they
all needed to catch up on their sleep since the night in the ER.

It was still dark, but Lacey could hear
the first song of morning coming from a lone bird outside her window. Not many
sang in the winter’s wee hours, but there were always a few who were tenacious.

Lacey reached toward her lamp, the
soreness of a day spent painting spanning from her shoulders to her fingertips.
Her thoughts flew to the beautiful baby’s room downstairs. Her grin wide, she
envisioned the tiny crystals in the chandelier that glistened in the light, scattering
colorful rainbows onto the walls. The heirloom quality crib was fit for a
princess, and the shades of pink were as sweet as cotton candy.

As excited as a five-year-old on Christmas
morning, Lacey jumped out of bed, suddenly needing to take just one more look
at the magical space.

Bess was going to love the room, Lacey
thought, stepping quietly down the stairs, not wanting to wake Maeve.

Flicking on the switch, the winsome
chandelier shone its light on Maeve—not asleep in her room at all—but
curled up on the floor of the baby’s room, her face streaked with tears.

Lacey’s felt the air rush out of her lungs.
“Maeve. What’s wrong?”

Maeve wiped her face. “Oh, shit, Lacey. I
thought you were asleep.”

Lacey paled. “Oh my God. Did you hear from
the hospital or something?”

“No. No. That’s not it. Bess and the baby
are fine. This is…nothing. Just forget it. Go back upstairs. Everyone is
entitled to have their little breakdowns, right? It’s probably PMS.”

Lacey sat on the floor beside her. “What
is it?”

“Nothing,” Maeve scooted a couple inches
further from her friend.

“I’m not leaving till you tell me what’s
wrong.”

Maeve reached for another tissue, and blew
unceremoniously. “It’s nothing, really.”

Lacey crossed her arms. “I can sit here
waiting all morning.”

“Dammit.” Maeve rolled her eyes. “It’s
just, this,” she said, throwing her hands up to the room. “It’s just—hard.”

“Hard,” Lacey prodded, bewildered. “Why?”

Maeve let out an exasperated breath.
“Because I can’t have kids.”

It took a moment before it sank in. “You
can’t have children?”

“No. All that bullshit about hating kids
is just that, bullshit. I just can’t have one.”

“Oh, Maeve, I’m so sorry. Are you sure?”

Maeve nodded. “A few years ago, I was
diagnosed with breast cancer.”

“My God. That’s too young.”

“Yeah, that’s about what I said to the
doctor when he told me. No one ever thinks about the women who get it that
young, you know? It’s just not that common, but it happens.”

“Are you okay now?”

Maeve reached over and knocked on the doorway.
“Knock wood. Anyway, the doctor had told me I’d be smart to harvest some eggs
before chemo if I wanted to have kids because it can do damage.”

“But you didn’t?”

 “No. That dick I was married to gave
me some crap about if it’s in our destiny to have kids, then we’ll have them.” Maeve
shook her head. “I can’t believe I ever listened to him. But I was too scared
of losing him right then to question him. I didn’t want to face cancer alone.” Combing
her hand through her hair, she sighed. “He actually stuck by me through the
surgery and the chemo. But then he moved on to someone else. It didn’t help
that he found her while we were still married.”

“Son of a bitch.”

Maeve leaned her back against the doorway.
“Really, I can’t blame him much. He’s just in his thirties like me, you know? Having
a wife with breast cancer isn’t something he was prepared for.”

“That’s bullshit. As if
you
were
prepared for it? Any guy with balls would have stuck with you. He was your
husband, for God’s sake.”

Maeve shrugged. “It’s funny. I thought I
was okay with all of it up till recently. I kept telling myself how lucky I was
to be alive. Nothing else should matter, right?”

“You’re still human, Maeve. You have a
right to be angry.”

“And I was, believe me. My family pulled
me through it all. Gram especially. That woman’s a rock. But then when Gram
died, that just pushed me over the edge. You remember how I was at the
funeral.”

Lacey did remember. It was the first
funeral she had crashed, but seeing Maeve grieve made her almost forget why she
was there. Almost.