Wingman Warriors - Grayson's Surrender Part 23

Why hadn't he called before leaving? Of course she'd told him she would contact him if she had "news" when he'd dropped her off after the day at his parents' house. But she'd been scared then, not by the thought of pregnancy, but by how much making love to Gray had shaken her.

Why hadn't she made the first move to phone him even once the past week? She told herself it was because she wanted definite news when they spoke-one way or the other.

A prideful part of her insisted she needed him to come to her this time in spite of what she'd said.

Lori checked her watch again, eyeing the sweep of the second hand as it ticked away the last ... two seconds.

She bolted from her chair to the bathroom. The little indicator stick rested on the edge of the marble vanity. Lon shuffled forward.

A single diagonal line glared back at her. Negative.

She squeezed her eyes shut as if that would change the results. It didn't. Dreams of impish little boys and dimple-checked little girls slipped farther away, leaving behind a hollow disappointment that had nothing to do with PMS.

Lori flung the test into the trash and reminded herself she had Magda and couldn't love that little girl any more if she was her own child. But that failed pregnancy test severed the last tie to Gray.

She returned to the kitchen and found Magda intent on dragging out all the pots and pans. Lori pa.s.sed her a wooden spoon-the one Gray had used as a microphone when he'd sung "Old MacDonald." Of its own volition, her mouth curved into a smile at the memory.

Should she call him or wait for the definite sign when she started ... or finally received a positive test? Lori fingered the phone on the wall and considered calling his parents for his new number. Of course, she had his cell phone number, too. She lifted the receiver.

d.a.m.n him, if he wanted to know, he would call her.

She slammed it on the cradle.

Ring. The phone vibrated under her hand.

Lori startled back a step, then yanked it off the wall, uncaring if she sounded too eager. She had been waiting by the phone after all, and since he'd finally been the one to call she didn't care if he knew.

"h.e.l.lo." Her voice sounded breathless and eager even to her own ears.

"Lori, this is Barbara."

Her attorney? With the evidentiary hearing a week away, they weren't scheduled to check in for another few days. Why would she call now? Foreboding gripped Lori by the throat. "Yes, Barbara, what can I do for you?"

"Lori, I hate to tell you this. But we've got a problem."

"What's the problem with this house, Major Clark?"

Gray stared back at the matronly real estate agent, a stack of house listing printouts gripped in his hand. "I'm not sure."

He circled the empty family room, searching for some flaw. They'd started with apartments, and he'd quickly known that wouldn't work for him anymore, not enough room and strangely too generic.

He'd asked the agent to pull house listings, having since plowed through about forty. The last had too small a backyard. The one before was located on a busy street. Another didn't have hardwood floors like Lori preferred.

And that was just it.

Every house he looked at fell short of what Lori and Magda needed. Of course, he wasn't sure he measured up any better than the houses. But if she was carrying his kid, then they would just have to make the best of it.

Husband. Father. He forced himself to think the words and not overlay images of his own childhood.

Each day that Lori didn't call increased the probability she could be pregnant. What kind of parents would they make with so much unresolved mess starting them off with two strikes? Their last parting hadn't been any better than the one a year ago.

He'd waited around in Charleston an extra few days to give her time to cool down, but no luck. She hadn't called. Two weeks had pa.s.sed since she'd walked out of his life again, and he wasn't having any more luck getting her out of his system than last time.

Gray looked around the room, through the windows. It was a good house. A great family home, with sidewalks and a cul-de-sac for Magda to ride her Big Wheel. He could already envision Lori and Magda in the airy sunroom with the dollhouse and Barbies scattered around. The yard stretched for half an acre, with a gentle slope for sledding in the winter, flower beds in the summer.

And there was a deep, inviting hot tub in the master bath for after the kids went to sleep.

He couldn't stop the irrational hope that she was pregnant. Then neither of them would have to make a decision. Yeah, real honorable, pal. Force the woman to marry you.

G.o.d, he missed her even more than the past year.

Gray sifted the through stack of house listings in his hand. What a waste of time when he didn't know if he would be putting a family in one or not. Whether he and Lori had any future or not. The papers crumpled in his fist.

Time to find out.

He started to reach for his cell phone in his back pocket. His hand stalled midreach. Some things were better said in person, when she couldn't hang up on him or hide her eyes. He'd made a mistake in not going after her a year ago and talking it out. He wouldn't make the same one now.

A half hour to stop by the hotel to pack and he would be gone. And he would be bringing his service dress uniform, because if Lori was pregnant, they would be in front of a judge by morning.

Whether they ended up in front of a preacher or not, they would resolve this face-to-face.

Gray folded the listing for the current house into quarters and slid it in his pocket. He pa.s.sed the rest of the stack to the sales agent. "I'll get back to you on this one later. I've got a plane to catch."

*** "Time to get a blood test." "What?" A blood test? For a marriage license? Lori couldn't believe that's all Dr. Charming had to say after two endless weeks of silence.

Lori grabbed her doork.n.o.b for support and looked for a shotgun at Gray's back, because he certainly couldn't have said what she thought, of his own free will. There wasn't a rifle in sight, just a determined thrust to his stubborn jaw as he brushed past into her living room.

"Come on. Find your shoes. Purse. Whatever." He snagged a Raggedy Ann doll from the floor just before he stepped on it and placed it gently across a cradle. "We're going to the clinic to get a blood test."

Her anger sparked and ignited. She spun away from him to keep from indulging in a totally unproductive shouting match.

She stared at that babydoll in the cradle and couldn't stop thinking of it resting in Gray's hands, how natural it looked. She gave herself a moment to bundle her tattered nerves while kneeling to scoop up three stray Cheerios from the rug. "If that's your idea of a proposal, it needs a little polis.h.i.+ng, Major."

Gray's gaze followed her as she stood, his eyes resting on those three little Os in her palm. "To see if you're pregnant."

"Oh." A surprise wave of sadness threatened to fold her knees.

She should have understood his meaning straight off, and probably would have if she hadn't been so distracted. Magda's approaching evidentiary hearing added more stress to Lori's already taut nerves. Glitches in the paperwork had her scrambling during what should have been a smooth transition to place Magda in her foster care long-term, adoption pending. "I'm not. Pregnant, I mean. I'm not. I'm sure now."

His eyes closed. A long, slow swallow slid down his throat before he stared at her again.

Lori stifled a twinge of irritation. Of course he was relieved. Why wouldn't he be? But some crazy part of her brain insisted she saw a hit of disappointment on his face.

Gray's eyes opened, and he pinned her with a laser stare. "How long have you known?"

"A few days. I, uh, spotted for a while and wasn't sure." She winced at discussing specifics, but reminded herself he was a doctor. "But now I'm done and I'm sure."

Anger snapped in his eyes, the green glittering like jewels tossed in a fire. "It might have been nice if you would have shared that with me."

"I thought you'd left."

"They have phones in Was.h.i.+ngton."

"Yes, they do, and you could have picked up one of those phones anytime-" Her temper disintegrated. "You're not in Was.h.i.+ngton."

"No." He stepped toward her. Closer. "I'm not."

No. He wasn't. He was standing right in front of her, tall and real after she had missed him two years' worth in those two weeks. "Why?"

"House hunting can wait. You know how I feel about shopping, anyway." He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "And I needed to know, so I flew back."

Lori clenched her fists by her sides, determined not to let her hands fall on his chest. Even in civilian clothes, he turned her heart to mush. The khakis and green polo couldn't disguise his military bearing. More than the haircut, his walk, very stance, proclaimed his warrior spirit, and he could too easily mesmerize her.

She tore her gaze away and scooped toys off the floor with a frantic pace-Barbies, coloring books, a bucket of crayons all landed in a wicker basket.

"Where's Magda?" He followed her restless path.

"With Julia." Lori pitched a toy bottle onto the haphazard heap.

Her call to Julia, in hopes of finding out about Gray, had rekindled their friends.h.i.+p. It felt good having a friend to count on for help, especially now. Gray had taught her that, about making friends. If only she could learn how to keep them.

"Lori. Lori! Will you look at me, please?" He grasped her arm and eased her to her feet. "I've come a h.e.l.luva long way to see you. We're not going to replay our mistake from last year by both being too hardheaded to talk."

Each rise and fall of his chest brought him closer for a tantalizing second. She held herself still. No way was she going to throw herself at him, no matter how hot he looked in those khakis.

Slowly, deliberately, he raised his hand, his fingers sliding under her braid to cup her head. She couldn't move, could barely breathe. "Gray? Why didn't you just call instead of flying all this way?"

"I wish I knew. I only know I just can't stay away."

He palmed her head, his eyes filled with a confusion so unlike her normally confident man she almost didn't recognize him. She couldn't have stopped herself from speaking if she tried. She didn't try very hard at all. "I missed you, too."

His mouth crashed down on hers.

All good intentions flew out the window as she surrendered to his kiss. She'd ached for him so d.a.m.ned much.

Tongues dancing, dipping, tasting, Lori locked her arms around him. Gray backed her down the hall, feet tangling on their way to her room. Her knees hooked on her mattress and she fell onto her bed, Gray's body a solid, delicious weight pressing her into the eiderdown comforter.

Their hands peeled away clothing with frantic need, his shoes thudding to the floor, Lori kicking away her light linen pants. His starched khakis rasped against her tender thighs.

Somewhere between kisses, her hands worked his pants off and down his powerful legs. Her lips tore free only long enough to whip his s.h.i.+rt overhead. She flung it aside and reclaimed his mouth for another deep, moist kiss.

Gray opened her silk s.h.i.+rt to uncover more silk. He charted a path down her jaw, her shoulder. Her breath hooked somewhere short of her throat, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s tightening in antic.i.p.ation just before his mouth closed over her.

Damp and warm silk clung to her skin with each tugging draw of his mouth. Her back bowed against him, impatient need taut within her.

"Lori." He breathed her name over the moist fabric. "Just a second, hon."

Gray rolled off her, her hands following him, scratching a light trail down his back. He glanced over his shoulder. "Hold that thought."

Scooping his pants from the floor, he tugged his wallet free and withdrew a single packet. He turned to her, flipping the condom between his fingers. An apology lit his eyes. "I just think-"

"Wait." She scooted from beneath him to reach into her bedside table drawer and pulled free a box. She refused to remember other arguments about birth control and children. The past could stay out of her bedroom for the moment. She had other plans for Gray. Lori scored her nails down his chest, raking gently lower.

A growl rumbling in Gray's throat, he pulled the box from her hands and tossed it on the bedside table along with his lone offering. "Slow down, hon. No rus.h.i.+ng this time."

Would it be their last time? Lori shoved away the icy thought.

Snagging the bottle of lotion from beside her lamp, he turned, tossing the bottle from hand to hand. Every inch of Lori's body tingled in antic.i.p.ation. No doubt they were falling into an old habit of escaping problems through s.e.x, but at the moment she just didn't care.

The bottle held high, he drizzled a stream into his open palm. His eyes gleamed as he rubbed his hands together, warming the lotion, warming her with his gaze.

He lifted her foot, cradling it like an antique china cup from her knickknack shelf. Strong fingers worked over her skin. Smooth lotion and callused hands rubbed a dichotomy of sensations along her nerves. Immersed in his touch and the scent of peaches, she could only close her eyes and moan.

Gray worked up her toes, along the top of her foot. "Metatarsal."

Lori's eyes snapped open. "What?"

Someone needed to tell him his language of love was sorely lacking.

He raised her foot to his mouth and kissed along her ankle reverently. "Tarsal. Special. Because it's yours."

She melted, totally and completely. Forget language. His hands spoke sonnets. His mouth kissed poetry.

"Fibula. Slim and perfect." His thumbs worked up her calf with tender reverence. Those doctor hands were so adept in nuances of the human body, and she reaped the full benefit of his training.

His mouth found her knee, working from front to back, tearing a low moan from her throat. An echoing groan rumbled in his throat. "Patella. So sensitive."

She totally agreed.

His fingers ma.s.saged a trek of homage up her thigh, higher, closer. "Femur and soft, creamy-white skin."

Lori slid her lazy lids open. "Pelvis?"

She knew that one and was past ready for him to find it.

Gray shook his head and cupped her waist. With slow deliberation, he rolled her to her stomach, her braid whipping to the side. His palm anch.o.r.ed her to the bed. Not that she could have moved her languid limbs.

She saw him reach for the bottle again just before she felt the cool trickle of lotion along her neck. Icy cold on fiery hot skin made her squirm. Tantalizingly the lotion trailed down her spine, pooling in the small of her waist, before continuing lower over her b.u.t.tocks.

He lowered himself to rest on her back, the breadth of his chest covering her shoulders. His arousal nestled in the lotion at the small of her back. Gray blew against her neck, breathed in her ear. "Vertebrae."

The slow glide of his body against hers worked the lotion into her skin. Silky warmth and Gray against her left Lori writhing beneath him.

"Gray," she moaned.

"Want me to stop?"

"No!"