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Bobby wondered how long she'd been crying, how long she'd been curled up on the cold floor sobbing over him.
"Are you sure you're up for this, Julianne? We can go into the city tomorrow."
She gave him a brave smile. "I'm fine. And I want to go today."
"Okay." He watched her turn away to repair her smudged mascara.
She looked so delicate, he thought, in her silky blouse and floral-printed skirt. Her eyes were slightly swollen, her nose chafed, her hair mussed.
The bathroom counter held a collection of creams, lotions, sprays and gels. He reached for her perfume
and fingered the bottle, tracing the curvaceous shape of the gla.s.s.
Julianne caught his gaze in the mirror and suddenly he longed to kiss her, to taste her, to lose himself in the warmth of her skin, the fresh-meadow scent of her hair.
Bobby replaced the perfume and took a steadying breath. He might as well get that gut-churning speech out of the way. Waiting wouldn't do either of them any good.
"Julianne?"
She added a dab of powder to her nose,then turned around. "Yes?"
"There's something I think we should discuss."
She tilted her head, waiting for him to continue, and he worried if he'd spoken too soon, if he was truly ready to confront this conversation.
But backing out now would be cowardly and he didn't fancy himself with a yellow streak down his belly.
"This is about s.e.x," he said.
Her mouth formed a silent "Oh," and he realized bow blunt he'd sounded.
Good going, he thought. Real smooth. Real romantic. Romantic? Bobby frowned, jammed his hands into
his pockets. Since when were disabled men considered idyllic lovers?
"I want to be with you again," he told her, wis.h.i.+ng his palms hadn't begun to sweat. "Are you still
interested in me?"
She nodded and he wondered if her heart was pounding as rapidly as his.
"It's impossible for me to treat this casually," he said. "To just take off my clothes and jump into bed. If
we make love again, it will be like before. Do you understand what I'm saying?" "I think so." With restless fingers, she picked up her compact and fiddled with it, opening the case, then snapping it shut. "I'll be naked, and you'll be half dressed."
Feeling awkward, he shrugged. "It's easier for me that, way." But explaining why was impossible. Imagining himself as a whole man when he was with Julianne was the only way he could cope with the intimacy that came with s.e.x. He couldn't bear for her to look at his residual limb, to touch it, to ponder the accident that was a blatant reminder of why he was an amputee.
"I saw a picture of a runner with a prosthetic leg. It was metal." She paused, toyed with her compact again. "What kind do you have?" d.a.m.n it, he thought. Technical curiosity. He should have expected it, been prepared for it. "I have several. And they're designed to look like my other leg. The components are padded and covered with a protective skin." He tried to sound casual, to let her think this wasn't bothering him as badly as it was. "The feet attached to my prostheses are called a cowboy high heel, designed for the shape of a boot."
She moved a little closer. "So you can wear any boot you want?"
"My boots are custom made, with a zipper."
He saw her trying to calculate why, trying to picture the angle of an inanimate leg, a fake foot.
"Do you ever wear your prosthesis to bed?"
Did she a.s.sume that he concealed it under a pair of pajamas? The way he did with his jeans? "No one
does. Or they shouldn't, anyway."
"You'll never spend the night with me? Never sleep beside me?"
"No." He knew some women liked to cuddle after s.e.x, to keep their partners close throughout the night,
but that wasn't in the cards. "If you can't handle this, that's fine. I just wanted to get it out in the, open."
She met his gaze. "I can handle it."
"So you're willing to be my lover?"
"If you're sure you're willing to do it with a forty-year-old crybaby."
He couldn't stop the smile that ghosted across his lips. "I'm sure."
She smiled, as well. "Me, too."
He removed his hands from his pockets and wiped his clammy palms. Okay, then, it was settled. They
were official lovers. Or they would be, once he initiated their next encounter.
"You better finish getting ready," he said.
She turned back to the mirror, her voice a little shy. "I'm nearly done."
"Good. Great." He stood behind her, so both of their reflections were visible. "You're not a crybaby, Julianne. You're perfect," he added softly. Simply perfect.
* * * Baby Bonus, a retail store stocked with furniture, clothing, bedding, strollers, high chairs, car seats and toys, offered the best selection in town.
Julianne and Bobby wandered the aisles, checking out every display.
"I like this," he said, stopping to admire a white crib trimmed in red. "The bedding is nice, too."
Julianne studied the sunburst print on the quilt. The man who lived in darkness and seclusion seemed
determined to decorate the nursery in bright, vivid colors. "I like it, too." She could imagine their baby sleeping in a room bursting with suns.h.i.+ne and candied apples. She moved toward a tiny rocking chair and smiled at the teddy bear occupying it "He's cute." Bobby came up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist "This setup would work for a boy or a girl."
Julianne leaned back, relaxing against his body. He felt so strong, so right. A big, brawny cowboy who would protect his family, keep them safe and warm. Am I part of his family?shewondered. Did conceiving his child make her more than a friend? More than a lover? She kept telling herself that his refusal to undress in front of her wasn't a big deal. Yet deep down she knew it was. Maybe the problem was more than just shedding his clothes. Maybe Bobby wasn't capable of giving a woman the security she needed.
He'd admitted that his wife had wanted more from him, that she'd argued over what he considered silly things. Yet he still wore his wedding ring. A gold band that seemed far too significant. So don't think about that, Julianne toldherself . Don't dwell on Bobby's past. Think about the future, about the child they'd created. She placed her hand over his, cradling their baby. Wasn't a child more significant than a ring? As he nibbled her ear, a delicious stream of pleasure snaked up her spine. "I can't wait to touch you," he whispered.
He was touching her now, but she knew he spoke of something much more intimate.
"Whenwill it happen?" she asked almost as quietly.
He slid his hands from her waist to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples. "When do you want
it to happen?"
Instantly aroused, Julianne pressed her bottom against his fly. "Tonight."
A hardnesspressed back and she let a wave of dizziness wash over her.
Voices sounded at the end of the aisle. Bobby dropped his hands and she righted her posture and shot
her gaze in the direction of the noise. Other shoppers. Another pregnant couple.
"Sorry," Bobby said.
"That's okay. I don't think they saw us."
He cleared his throat. "Hope not."
An unexpected smile twitched her lips. He always cleared his throat when he was nervous. Or
embarra.s.sed. Or battling to banish naughty thoughts.
Intrigued, she debated on hugging him, on holding on and never letting go. Suddenly she felt young again.
Young and in love.
In love?
"We should buy him."
"What?" She blinked, tried to calm her jumping pulse.
"The teddy bear." Bobby strode over to the rocking chair and picked up the stuffed animal. "It'll be the