Navy Blues
Page 14

The wheels in Steve’s mind were spinning fast. "The best thing I can do is talk to her, and find out what’s happening."
"Do that, but for heaven’s sake be gentle with her. She’s too fragile for you to come at her like Hulk Hogan."
"I wouldn’t do that."
"Steve, I’m your sister. I know you!"
"Okay, okay. I’ll talk to you later." He hung up the phone but kept his hand on the receiver while he mulled over his sister’s news. Carol had said she wanted to have a baby, and she knew how he felt about the subject. He’d longed for a family since the first year they were together.
However, they weren’t married now. No problem. Getting remarried was a minor detail. All he had to do was talk to the chaplain and make the arrangements. And if what Lindy said was true, the sooner he saw the chaplain, the better.
Without forethought he jerked the receiver off the hook and jabbed out Carol’s number with his index finger. After two rings, he decided this kind of discussion was better done in person.
He showered, changed clothes and was halfway out the door when he remembered what Lindy had said about letting Carol know he was coming. Good idea.
He marched back over to the phone and dialed her number one more time.
No answer.
"Damn." He started pacing the floor, feeling restless, excited and nervous. He couldn’t stay in the apartment; the walls felt as if they were closing in on him. He’d spent the last three months buried in the belly of a nuclear submarine and hadn’t experienced a twinge of claustrophobia. Twenty minutes inside his apartment, knowing what he now did, and he was going ape.
He had to get out there even if it meant parking outside Carol’s house and waiting for her to return.
He rushed out to his car and was grateful when it started right away after sitting for three months.
He was going to be a father! His heart swelled with joy and he experienced such a sense of elation that he wanted to throw back his head and shout loud enough to bring down brick walls.
A baby. His and Carol’s baby. His throat thickened with emotion, and he had to swallow several times to keep from breaking down and weeping right there on the freeway. A new life. They were going to bring a tiny little being into this world and be accountable for every aspect of the infant’s life. The responsibility seemed awesome. His hands gripped the steering wheel and he sucked in a huge breath as he battled down his excitement and fears.
He was going to be a good father. Always loving and patient. Everything would be right for his son…or daughter. Male chauvinist that he was, he yearned for a son. They could have a daughter the second time, but the thought of Carol giving him a boy felt right in his mind.
But he had so much to learn, so much to take care of. First things first. Steve tried to marshal his disjointed thoughts. He had to see to Carol’s health. If this pregnancy was as hard on her as Lindy implied, then he wanted Carol to quit her job. He made good money; she should stay home and build up her strength.
The drive to Carol’s house took less than fifteen minutes, and when Steve pulled up and parked he noticed her car in the driveway with the passenger door opened. His heart felt like it was doing jumping jacks, he was so eager to see her.
The front door opened and Carol stepped outside and to her car, grabbing a bag of groceries.
"Carol." She hadn’t seen him.
She turned abruptly at the sound of her name. "Steve," she cried out brokenly and dropped the brown shopping bag. Without the least bit of hesitation, she came flying across the lawn.
He met her halfway, and wrapping his arms around her waist, he closed his eyes to the welcome feel of her body against his. His happiness couldn’t be contained and he swung her around. Her lips were all over his face, kissing him, loving him, welcoming him.
Steve drank in her love and it humbled him. He held her gently, fearing he would hurt her, and kissed her with an aching tenderness, his mouth playing over the dewy softness of hers.
His hands captured her face and her deep blue eyes filled with tears as she smiled tremulously at him. "I’ve missed you so much. These have been the longest three months of my life."
"Mine, too." His voice nearly choked, and he kissed her again in an effort to hide the tide of emotion he was experiencing.
Steve picked up the scattered groceries for her and they walked into the house together.
"Go ahead and put those in the kitchen. Are you hungry?"
She seemed nervous and flittered from one side of the room to the other.
"I could fix you something if you’d like," she suggested, her back braced against the kitchen counter.
Steve’s eyes held hers, and the emotion that had rocked him earlier built with intensity every minute he was in her presence. "You know what I want," he whispered, hardly able to speak.
Carol relaxed, and blushed a little. "I want to make love with you so much."
He held his hands out to her and she walked toward him, locking her arms around his neck. She pressed her weight against him and Steve realized how slender she was, how fragile. Regret slammed into his chest with all the force of a wrecking ball against a concrete wall. She was nurturing his child within her womb, for God’s sake, and all he could think about was getting her into bed. He hadn’t even asked her how she was feeling. All he cared about was satisfying his own selfish lusts.
"Carol…" His breath was slow and labored. Gently he tried to break free, because he couldn’t think straight when she was touching him.
"Hmm?" Her hands were already working at his belt buckle, and her mouth was equally busy.
He felt himself weakening. "Are you sure? I mean, if you’d rather not…"
She released his zipper and when her hands closed around his naked hardness, he thought he would faint. His eyes rolled toward the ceiling. "Don’t…don’t you think we should talk?" he managed to say.
"No."
"But – "
She broke away and looked up at him, her eyes hungry with demand. "Steven Kyle, what is your problem? Do you or do you not want to make love?"
"I think…we should probably talk first. Don’t you?" He didn’t know if she would take him seriously with his voice shaking the way it was.
She grinned, and when her gaze dropped to below his waistline, they rounded. "No. Because neither one of us is going to be able to say anything worth listening to until we take care of other things – "
It wasn’t possible to love a woman any more than he did Carol at that moment, Steve thought. She reached for his hand and led him out of the kitchen and into the bedroom.
Like a lost sheep, he followed.
The newborn moon cast silvery shadows on the wall opposite the bed, and Steve sighed, feeling sated and utterly content. Carol slept at his side, her arm draped around his middle and her face nestled against his shoulder. Her tousled hair fell over his chest and he ran his fingers through it, letting the short, silky length slip through his hands.
Gently he brushed a blond curl off her cheek and twisted his head so that he could kiss her temple. She stirred and sighed in her sleep. He grinned. If he searched for a hundred years he would never find a woman who could satisfy him the way Carol did.
They hadn’t talked, hadn’t done anything but make love until they were both so exhausted that sleep dominated their minds. They may not have voiced the words, but the love between them was so secure it would take more than a bulldozer to rock it this time. Steve may not have had a chance to say the words, but his heart had been speaking them from the minute Carol had led him to bed.
Bringing the blanket more securely over her shoulders, he wrapped his arm around her and studied her profile in the fading moonlight. What Lindy told him was true. Carol had lost weight; she was as slender as a bamboo shoot, and much too pale. She needed someone to take care of her and, he vowed in his heart, he would be the one.
He almost wished she would roll over so that he could place his hand on her abdomen and feel for himself the life that was blossoming there. He felt weak with happiness every time he thought about their baby. He closed his eyes at the sudden longing that seared through his blood.
Carol hadn’t yet told him that she was pregnant but he was sure she would in the morning. Until then, he would be content.
He closed his eyes and decided to sleep.
Steve woke first. Carol didn’t so much as stir when he climbed out of bed and reached for his clothes. Silently he tiptoed out of the room and gently closed the door. She needed her sleep.
He made himself a pot of coffee and piddled around the kitchen, putting away the groceries that had been sitting on the counter all night. He pulled open the vegetable bin and carelessly tossed a head of lettuce in there. The drawer refused to close and he discovered the problem to be a huge shriveled up sweet potato. He took it out and, with an over the head loop shot Michael Jordan would have envied, tossed it into the garbage.
Carol and sweet potatoes. Honestly. The last time he’d looked inside her refrigerator, it had been filled with the stuff in every imaginable form.
He supposed he should get used to that kind of thing. It was a well-known fact that women often experienced weird food cravings when they were pregnant. Sweet potatoes were only one step above pickles and ice cream.
Just a minute! That had been last Christmas… before Christmas.
Steve’s heart seemed to stop and slowly he straightened. Chewing on the inside of his lip, he closed the refrigerator door. Carol had been stuffing down the sweet potatoes long before he’d accepted her dinner invitation. Weeks before, from the look of it.
His thoughts in chaos, he stumbled into the living room and slumped into the chair. An icy chill settled over him. No. He refused to believe it, refused to condemn her on anything so flimsy. Then his gaze fell on a pair of knitting needles. He reached for her pattern book and noted the many designs for infant wear.
His heart froze. The last time he’d been by the house, Carol had been knitting a baby blanket. When he’d asked her about it, she’d told him it was for a friend. His snort of laughter was mirthless. Sure, Carol! More lies, more deceit.
And come to think of it, on Christmas Eve she’d pushed her knitting aside so that he couldn’t see it. She’d been knitting the same blanket for the same friend then, too.
He was still stewing when Carol appeared. She smiled at him so sweetly as she slipped her arms into her robe.
"Morning," she said with a yawn.
"Morning."
His gruffness must have stopped her. "Is something wrong?"
Such innocent eyes… She’d always been able to fool him with that look. No more.
"Steve?"
"You’re pregnant, aren’t you?"
She released her breath in a long, slow sigh. "I wondered if you’d guess. I suppose I should have told you right away, but…we got sidetracked, didn’t we?"
He could hardly stand to look at her.
"You’re not angry, are you?" she asked, her eyes suddenly reflecting uncertainty.
Again such innocence, such skill. "No, I suppose not."