“Mmm-hmm.” She ever so gently commandeered him onto his back. With all his beautiful, male splendor stretched out before her, she kneeled over him, reveling in his visual caress. She tasted the sweat-slicked skin of his stomach as her hand explored his well-muscled thigh. Her voice thickened to a husky murmur as her hand drifted upward and her mouth moved to meet it. “I’m a woman given to indulging in excess.”
Andrew’s deep groan expressed his appreciation of that tendency.
9
“THINK OF IT AS AN organ donation of sorts,” Andrew argued. He found it downright frightening that he was beginning to not only understand but anticipate Kat’s logic. He knew convincing her to get rid of her junk heap and drive the Volvo was going to take some smooth talking.
“I just can’t bear to think of strangers disassembling Carlotta. We’ve been through a lot together.” Kat’s genuine distress brought him to the couch. He leaned over the back and rubbed the spot on her shoulder he’d discovered in the past week.
“Carlotta’s old and tired, honey. And think how many cars can be kept on the road because of her.”
Kat glanced up at him suspiciously. “Are you laughing at me?”
“Absolutely not. I’m just trying to find a solution that works for everyone.” He refrained from adding that it’d be over his dead body that she ever placed herself in that wreck again.
He felt her shoulders relax as he rubbed lower. “I could arrange for you to ride with the tow-truck driver if you want.” He’d initially thought her attitude toward her old bomb plain nutty. Now Kat’s loyalty and capacity for caring overwhelmed him. She would make their kid a terrific mom. And he’d begun to believe he might make a pretty okay dad.
She sniffled. “Thanks, but I think a clean break might be for the best. I’ve been driving Charlemagne, and Carlotta looks so sad every time I pass by her.”
He didn’t ask. He knew. She’d christened the purple station wagon Charlemagne.
“I think that’s a good idea.”
Fessing up about that clause in the contract would be an even better idea. In hindsight, Andrew realized he should have negotiated the point up front. He should have worked out a compromise so that he had rights to the baby, also. His deception was going to cost him in her emotional trust and the longer he delayed the higher the stakes.
“Kat, there’s something else we need to talk about-”
The doorbell chime cut him off in mid-sentence. Someone had lousy timing.
“It’s two o’clock on a Sunday afternoon. Who could this be?” he muttered as he stamped to the door.
“Jehovah’s Witnesses?” Kat offered.
Andrew checked the peephole. A couple caught in a sixties’ time warp stared back from the other side. “I don’t think so.”
He opened the massive door, and the woman launched herself at him. “Son!”
Behind him, Kat jumped to her feet. “Mother!”
“IT’S THE NINETIES, not the sixties. New Age, not hippies,” Kat explained while squirting cheese from a tube on a cracker. Raising her voice, she called out, “We’ll be just a minute, Mom, Vince.”
“Take your time, baby. We’re just absorbing the karma.”
Andrew smirked at the karma comment. “What about these matching love beads for a wedding present?” He fingered the necklace dangling about his neck.
“Crystals. They’re crystals, not love beads.” Kat licked a glob of gooey cheese off her finger. “And I think it was a lovely gift.”
“I agree. It gives a whole new meaning to wedding crystal.” Andrew arranged the bottled seltzer on a tray. “Crystals-the gift that keeps on guiding.”
Kat snickered. “Bring your crystal and that seltzer and let’s get back out there.”
Kat’s mother and stepfather were in the den, busy soaking up karma like a pair of New Age sponges. The pair beamed beatifically while Kat and Andrew settled the trays.
“So, dear, we not only wanted to bring you your wedding gift, but we wanted to let you know how your numbers came in.”
“What numbers?”
“Why, yours, and Andy’s.” Marcia laid out a chart, glowing at them like an oracle of good fortune. Vince maintained his meditative pose on the floor.
Kat tugged a still-puzzled Andrew onto the love seat beside her. “Remember, Mom’s into numerology.”
“Right. My birthday.”
“I ran yours and Kat’s.” Marcia looked up from her charts to shoot them a coy look. “You’ve got some very good numbers together.”
“How long have you been involved in the study of numerology, Mrs. Stevens?”
Kat recognized the attorney tone. Andrew was going somewhere with this, she just wasn’t sure where.
“Right after Rand and I got a divorce. Too bad it wasn’t before we got married. But then I wouldn’t have my two wonderful children, so I guess I don’t mean that. But I’ve studied numbers for about twenty-five years. And the numbers don’t lie. Mom. Call me Mom. According to the numbers, we’re going to be family for a long time, son.”
Kat indulged her mother because she loved her, but she figured Marcia would be just as well off interpreting tea leaves. Vince continued to stare off into space. Even for Vince, he was acting weird. “Uh, Mom, is Vince okay?”
Marcia waved an airy hand. “Sure. He took a workshop on trance channeling in California. He’s been trying for days.”
“Did you run the numbers on Nick?” There was nothing subtle about Andrew’s question. Good thing she was already sitting down, because his question floored her.
“Does ginseng have a root? Of course I did. That Nick, he was a bad number. A very bad number. Made me wish the numbers were wrong, but of course they never are.”
Kat was shocked. “Mom, you never mentioned it. Are you serious? Nick’s numbers came up bad?”
“Some of the worst I’ve ever seen. I’ll tell you, it took some heavy-duty meditation to work through that.”
“Why didn’t you warn her?” Andrew’s question held a hard edge.
Kat wished he’d remember this was a conversation, not a hearing. But it was rather sweet that he seemed so indignant on her behalf.
“Our children don’t always make the choices we’d like, and the only true recourse is to accept them graciously and be prepared to stand by them when the bottom drops out. If I’d told Kat she’d picked a bad number in Nick, do you really think it would have swayed her decision to marry him?”
Two pair of eyes pinned her for an answer. Kat remembered her desperate resolve at twenty-one to live up to everyone’s expectations. She’d also fancied herself in love. Her answer came swift and sure. “Absolutely not.”
Something flickered in Andrew’s eyes at her response before he resumed his cool demeanor.
“That’s what I thought. My headstrong little girl would’ve told me to find some tea leaves to read and gone about her merry business.”
A guilty flush climbed up Kat’s neck.
Marcia winked at her knowingly before turning her attention to Andrew. “One day when you’re a parent you’ll know what I mean. You’ll go through the same thing with your kids.”
Kat mentally noted the reference to kids. Emphasis on the s. Plural. As in more than one.
“Kids?” Andrew’s stunned voice echoed her reaction.
Marcia beamed. “Kids. I don’t want to take the surprise out of it, but it was in the numbers. And it doesn’t matter a whit to me that big families are out of vogue these days.”
Kat couldn’t stop the thrill her mother’s words brought. She’d always wanted her own little brood. That’s why having this one was so important. She couldn’t imagine her life without a child. Somewhere along the way she’d tripped herself up and now she couldn’t imagine herself without Andrew’s child.
His eyes met hers. Behind his dubiousness lay a spark of tender excitement.