Two Is a Lonely Number Page 11

  “I won’t have you screwing around with some other guy while you’re carrying my kid.”

  “Oh no?” She dug into the chocolate mousse she had had delivered earlier. “Oh my god.” She hadn’t meant to purr her pleasure into the phone, but it was so freaking good.

  “You’re still with him?”

  His tone, as rigid as the erection she wished he’d share with her, made her smile.

  “Oh, no. The sound I made is a result of the kind of pleasure only I can give myself.”

  “Give me an address.”

  He wasn’t playing around now.

  She giggled.

  “Why, Ben?”

  “You know why.”

  “You want to join me for dessert?”

  “I prefer to be the main course. And no one else has the right to have you on their plate.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Karly. Leave there. Come home.”

  “Can’t. My reservation is for three days. Three days of sheer ecstasy.”

  Silence.

  “Ben, my date consists of a big bed, room service, chocolate everything, unlimited TV, a fantabulous masseuse, and me. By myself. Alone.”

  More silence. And a deep exhalation.

  “Alone?”

  “That’s right.” She couldn’t help it that time—she purposely used her sexiest voice.

  “What happened to your date?”

  “Oh, now you think I should be with someone?”

  “No.”

  “This was my plan all along. A date with me. To relax. It’s been a tough couple of months, you know.”

  “Why’d you have to go there to relax?”

  “I’ve got needs, Ben. I may be prego, but I still have needs.”

  “And I have the need to fulfill those needs.”

  Her turn to be silent. What was he saying?

  “If you need massaging, that’s my job.”

  Seriously?

  “Are you still there?” he asked.

  “Mmhmm.”

  “You have to let me take care of you.”

  “It’s not your job to take care of me.”

  “I want it to be my job.”

  Gosh darned emotions. Why did he have to torture her when she was already weak?

  “I have to go.”

  “Karly, wait.”

  “I have to go. My tub is calling.”

  “Fine. But next time, it will be me washing your back.”

  A shiver tore through her at his words, and she knew her tub time would be all the more thrilling after this conversation.

  “I’ll see you when you get home.”

  Sounded like a promise. She didn’t even take it as a threat. In fact, she worked hard to resist the urge to give him her address and room number and extend the invitation.

  She couldn’t do it, though. Clearly her hormones and the act of carrying something that shared his DNA had made her more vulnerable. She couldn’t allow herself to start seeing castles and fairy godmothers when she looked at him.

  He was not her prince. He wasn’t anybody’s prince. And though she could use a really great orgasm, she didn’t need a prince.

  ***

  Apparently Ben meant to keep his promise.

  Not only was he on her doorstep when she arrived home from her hotel date, but he carried her bags, had dinner delivered, and insisted on giving her a deep massage as she vegged in front of the television.

  She should send him home. She knew it was wrong to take this TLC from him when they could barely stand each other.

  But it felt so right.

  Not “right” in the he’s-the-man-for-you sense, but right in the oh-my-god-his-fingers-make-me-want-to-scream-in-pleasure sense. And that was only when he massaged her.

  She hadn’t expected this tender side of him.

  She wasn’t dumb enough to think it would last.

  He felt an obligation to her.

  She fell asleep under his gentle touch every night. Every morning, she woke up in her bed, tucked in snugly. Alone.

  He never made a move on her, though she could feel their mutual desire.

  The most action he offered was the occasional gentle kiss on her forehead or cheek.

  Whenever she felt like they were about to cross over into more intimate territory, he suddenly had something to do. It usually involved feeding her.

  If this baby didn’t make her obese, Ben certainly would.

  She had become so accustomed to his daily visits that when Thanksgiving came and went without even a phone call, an emptiness settled inside her.

  They hadn’t even discussed the holidays. And why should they? As she kept reminding herself, they weren’t a couple.

  But it still felt strange that neither of them had even brought it up.

  Ava had invited her to her Thanksgiving soiree, but Karly had declined. She wanted a day off. Work had become more exhausting than usual—things at the office had been more hectic with the holidays approaching.

  Since Ben wasn’t around to dominate her personal time, Karly decided to attempt to photograph her changing body with the old point-and-shoot digital camera she had retired years ago. The young guy at the camera repair shop had pronounced her professional D-SLR camera dead on arrival, and since she didn’t have the extra thousands of dollars hanging around to replace it, she’d have to make do with what she had.

  After fiddling with the out-of-date settings, she managed to get the camera balanced on her tripod and the timer set. She pulled her shirt over her belly, turned to the side, and cursed as the door swung open, startling her.

  “What the hell?” Her screech surprised her more than Ben’s presence, and she scowled as the flash signaled the taking of the photo.

  “Didn’t mean to scare you. I’ll be sure to knock next time.”

  He didn’t look sorry. He looked—incredibly frigging hot. And adorable. And warm and cozy in his Irish cable-knit sweater. She had the sudden urge to snuggle into his arms and tell him she had missed him over the long weekend.

  But that wasn’t a Karly thing to do.

  “I’ll be sure to lock my door next time.”

  “Oh, come on. You missed me.”

  Yeah, but she’d never admit it.

  “Besides, I come baring gifts.” He held out a paper bag. “Pumpkin pie. In case you haven’t had enough this weekend.”

  She hadn’t had any, and she suddenly craved it.

  “Thanks,” she mumbled as she reached for the bag.

  “What were you doing when I walked in?”

  She refused to make eye contact. It wasn’t like her to be embarrassed about anything, but it also wasn’t like her to be sentimental. Taking pregnancy selfies? She couldn’t quite believe it herself.

  He didn’t wait for her answer.

  “Oh, is this like that photo series you did? The one I helped you frame?”

  She rolled her eyes, wishing he’d leave. Hoping he’d stay.

  “Why are you using that old thing? Where’s your good camera?”

  “Awaiting a proper burial.”

  She had saved for years to get that camera. She hadn’t yet mourned its death, but tears stung the back of her eyes.

  “What happened to it?” With two fingers, he tilted her chin so she’d have to meet his eyes. “It broke?”

  “Yes.”

  “We’ll bring it to the camera repair shop.”

  “Already did.” She shrugged. “He pronounced it dead.”

  “Shit.” Ben wrinkled his nose and sucked in his cheeks.

  “Yeah,” she agreed.

  “I’ll buy you a new one.”

  She glared at him. “I’ll replace it on my own, thank you very much.”

  He squeezed her shoulders and smiled.

  “Go back where you were. I’ll take the photos.”

  “Um, no.”

  He arched his eyebrows in such a way that she wanted to kiss them until they relaxed.

  But that was the most idiotic th
ought she had ever had.

  Well, after the thought that they could screw just one time without a condom.

  Idiot.

  While she was distracted with her internal self-deprecation, Ben grabbed the paper bag out of her hand.

  “You want this pie?” he taunted.

  “That’s not fair. You already gave it to me.”

  “You give me what I want, I’ll give you what you want.”

  She stepped closer, her breasts pressing against his upper abs as she reached for the bag he held over his head.

  His free hand pulled her hip forward as his other arm waved around, trying to shake her hand off.

  Her body melted into his as her mind focused on getting what she pretended to want.

  “Give me the pie and nobody gets hurt.”

  “Let me take your picture and your cravings can be satisfied.”

  His voice had grown huskier as he spoke of her cravings, and goodness gracious, she craved something entirely different from the pie.

  Her arm stopped reaching, and she noticed his elbow bending, relaxing. Her fingers fluttered to his chest. Her breathing slowed, but she heard each intake of breath as if amplified.

  His eyes darkened, but they held her gaze as firmly as a pirate held his treasure.

  “Your eyes are shining,” he said, lowering his arm and bringing the bag-laden hand to her lower back.

  She blinked, licking her lips. Wishing it were his tongue on her lips rather than her own.

  “Still want it?” he asked.

  She heard the crinkling of the bag, but she responded to the invitation in the subtle thrust of his hips and the way his free hand tightened on her waist.

  She nodded. She couldn’t say no. She only wondered why it had taken so long.

  “Good.”

  He pulled away with a smirk, retrieving the camera and fiddling with the settings. She winced as the flash blinded her.

  She had no choice but to go along with the photo session, otherwise he’d know she had consented to whatever his erection had been offering.

  “When do you think you’ll start to show?” Ben asked, looking at her through the lens rather than direct.

  “I’m already showing. It’s subtle, but I can tell the difference.” She caressed her belly, surprised at the bond she felt with the new resident in her uterus.

  Of course he wouldn’t notice the changes. He was one step above a stranger. One night of studious attention to her body didn’t make him an expert. Or a friend. Or a boyfriend.

  Why these thoughts even formed was beyond her comprehension. She didn’t care. She didn’t want anything from him. Hell, if he’d leave and not come back, life would probably become a heck of a lot easier.

  He asked her about her Thanksgiving celebration, and she did her best to evade the question. Whenever anyone heard that she had spent a holiday alone, they unleashed the pity and the pathetic looks and the “oh my, next time come to my house” invitations. It had become easier to nod and say thank you than to try to explain that she hated holidays and would rather be alone with her old TV shows and a bottle of wine any day.

  This year she’d have to forego the wine, but the rest of the solitary tradition would remain.

  He lowered the camera.

  “Please tell me you had somewhere to go on Thanksgiving.”

  “Don’t you dare look at me with pity. I expected more from you.”

  “I don’t pity you. I have no doubt you had numerous invitations. What I want to know is why would you choose to be alone rather than with family? Or even with your best friend?”

  “I don’t have a family.” She smiled and sashayed her way into the kitchen for a glass of water. “What about you? What did you do?”

  He hesitated before answering. Probably took one of his conquests to an expensive dinner in the city. Or spent the day eating pie off his lover’s genitals.

  She hated him. And his lovers.

  It wasn’t fair.

  “I got called in to have dinner with my mother. Apparently it’s a policy at the place she’s living that a family member has to visit on holidays or they give the residents the boot.”

  “That’s crazy! But I’m sure you made her holiday special.”

  “She doesn’t even know who I am. I get why they have the rule—they don’t want people dumping family members at their residence for the rest of their lives—but our circumstances are different.”

  At that moment, she considered herself lucky that her mother had succumbed to liver disease several years back. After the childhood she had given Karly, Karly wasn’t sure she’d have been able to take care of her the way Ben took care of his absentee mother. And he probably had it worse growing up, moving from foster home to foster home.

  “Dare I ask what your plans for Christmas are?”

  He helped himself to an apple from her table while he waited for her answer. She wanted to lick the moist apple juice off the side of his mouth.

  “My plans involve pajama pants, ice cream, and a movie marathon.”

  “Sounds good to me. Do you begin this on Christmas Eve, or do you hold out for the special stuff on the 25th?”

  “Oh, the party begins as soon as my office shuts down. I can’t indulge in my favorite beverages this year, so it’ll be Virgin Margaritas. Or maybe root beer floats.”

  “Was this your tradition growing up?”

  Karly laughed sardonically.

  “The only tradition I remember was my mother getting rip-roaring drunk and knocking the tree down. Some years it was accidental—the knocking down of the tree, that is. Some years it was on purpose. I don’t know what that tree ever did to her, but boy, did she have it out for those glass bulbs.”

  He nodded, accepting her response. Not one bit of pity or sadness crossed his face. She had shocked herself revealing this childhood memory to him—she typically kept these things to herself.

  “I look forward to it then.”

  “Excuse me?” She placed her glass on the table with a loud thunk.

  “The holiday celebration. I look forward to it.”

  “What’s your holiday celebration?” Suspicion tickled the back of her neck, putting her on alert.

  “Pajama pants, ice cream, and a movie marathon, apparently. Here. With you. And our baby.” He reached out toward her belly, but diverted his touch to her arm.

  “No. We are not doing a holiday together. I prefer to fly solo.”

  “I can respect that. But since we both seem to have had shit luck in the family department, we have to practice setting up new traditions for when our baby is here. He’ll expect silly things like Christmas celebrations. And it’s our job to oblige.”

  “Of course I’ll give my kid Christmas,” she snapped, jerking her arm away. “What kind of person do you think I am?”

  “The kind of person who is going to spend Christmas with me.”

  Her knees shook with irritation that quickly morphed into desire. Could she convince him to show up wrapped in a bow? The fantasies started pouring in. She might even consider setting up a tree if she could unwrap him beneath it.

  “You know you want me here.”

  “I know you’re full of yourself.”

  “Isn’t that what attracted you to me in the first place?”

  “I was drunk.”

  “Keep telling yourself that.”

  She closed her eyes. Not being able to see him only enhanced her ability to smell him. And damn it all to hell—he smelled exactly like what she needed.

  Never afraid to be brazen, Karly couldn’t figure out why she didn’t just force the seduction. He was physically attracted to her. She wasn’t about to go out and pick up some other guy—not anymore. He owed her.

  “All right, it’s settled. Christmas Eve—I’ll be here.”

  He stepped away from her, all calm and composed while her legs threatened to go on strike.

  How could he bounce back so quickly?

  Hmm, maybe because they hadn�
�t done anything? Maybe the mutual attraction was all in her head.

  He picked up his keys and waved from the door.

  “I want copies of those pictures.”

  She shook her head and rolled her eyes.

  “Oh, and I’ll be out of town for a week or so, but if you need anything, give me a call. I have an assistant on standby.”

  Her throat clogged before she could ask him why he’d be away. Wasn’t really any of her business, anyway.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I still think it’s weird that he didn’t tell you where he was going.” Ava bit into her burger while Karly moved her salad around on her plate.

  “It’s not fair that you can eat that and look great, while I’m already in maternity clothes.”

  “It’s payback. Pre-pregnancy I was the one constantly battling the belly bulge.” Ava swirled her fries in her ketchup, sighing with delight. “Hey, maybe you’re having twins!”

  “Bite your tongue, bitch.”

  Ava laughed at Karly’s reaction.

  “They’d have heard two heartbeats, right?”

  Ava leaned forward, hovering over her plate.

  “The other day I watched a show about a woman who thought she was having one baby but gave birth to three!”

  “I hate you,” Karly moaned. She forced herself to eat a tomato. The baby needed nourishment. “Cole doesn’t know where he is, either?”

  “All Ben told him was that he needed a little time off. He’s checking in daily and doing meetings over video conference, but he’s kept quiet about the whole thing. Has he called you?”

  “Texts mostly.”

  “Why don’t you just ask him?”

  “Because then he’ll think I care.”

  “But you do care…” Ava smiled. “Karly likes a booyy, Karly likes a boooyyy.”

  “You’ve been hanging around kindergartners way too much.”

  “True. But still! When are you guys going to set a date?”

  “I already have a due date.”

  “A wedding date, silly.”

  Karly choked on a piece of lettuce. “Do you hear yourself?”

  “Do you? You haven’t even denied it. I’ve never seen you so into a guy. And you aren’t even sleeping together.”

  “The damage was already done on that one.”

  “You want to though, don’t deny it.”