Baby Bombshell Page 15
Nodding, he agreed, “I was awake, too.”
“There was a lot to think about.”
He was silent for a moment, holding back the words on his tongue. He felt as if he was walking on eggshells, loud crackling sounding at every step. “I thought I could handle the zoning variance problem. I have a friend who works in city records who’s willing to do some digging for us.”
It was Anna’s turn to say nothing. She sipped her tea again, then put the mug down before saying, “Sure. We could use help.”
“So, I’ll give him a call and see what he can find.”
“Good.”
Her reply sounded cool and flat to Evan’s ears, attuned as he was to her every nuance. From what he could tell, all the warmth between them was gone now, banished to the time before things had gotten so complicated. He wished he could push back the clock, but knew it was a foolish desire. He could not change the past any more than it could change him or Anna Berzani.
Chapter Twelve
Anna pushed away from the computer and stood, leaving her shoes under the desk. Padding downstairs to the kitchen, she filled the kettle with water and put it on to boil. She pulled open the drawer where Evan kept tea, rummaging around until she found something that sounded good. It took a while since there were several blends to choose from. Every day, the stock of tea seemed to multiply. Mint, chai, lemon, chamomile, Lady Grey, three types of green—the selection would soon be too large for the drawer. Dropping a bag of lemon in her cup, she leaned against the counter, waiting for the water to heat.
It was strange to be in Evan’s home when he wasn’t there. Stranger still to feel so comfortable here. She was familiar now with the stereo and television controls, where he kept extra paper towels and the idiosyncrasies of the toaster—if she didn’t push the button down firmly, it launched the bread ceiling-ward. After four days, it felt as if she had lived here forever. Odd how she could slip so seamlessly into a man’s life and remain so distant from him.
The whistle sounded. Anna turned off the burner and poured the boiling water in her cup, the tea bag bobbling merrily. The proliferating tea was Exhibit A of the unspoken, odd connection between them. Evan never mentioned buying more tea for her; he just let her make the discovery. And yesterday, he had seen her pull an apple out of her bag. Now there was a basket of fresh fruit on the counter which had not been there before.
He cared, he really did. She could believe that. Yet why did he not care enough to claim his child? He never mentioned the baby, but his every action told her it was on his mind. As the days progressed, Anna couldn’t help feeling that if she weren’t pregnant, if Evan did not feel so trapped, things might have worked out differently. He might learn to love her if she was not carrying his baby and all the commitment that a child entailed.
Sipping her tea, Anna stared out at the rain-swept day beyond the windows. Clouds glided low over the Bay and brought with them a steady drizzle. She cupped her hands around the warm mug, mulling over the situation. Two days ago, Evan had caught her napping on the sofa—a catnap for her strained eyes as well as her baby. He had offered his bed. When Anna refused, Evan had become irritable. He told her gruffly that the bed was more comfortable and she needed to take care of herself.
In his office, they worked well together. They laughed at each other’s silly jokes. When he was in a funk, she could lift him out of it. When she was aggravated by the piles of documents, he could tell her a story about Patrick or her father and make her forget her frustrations. They fit together. Why, then, did he fight against them being together?
Sighing, she turned and walked back upstairs to the office. She didn’t have time to waste on imponderables, not now. These questions, she felt sure, would never be answered. Especially since she couldn’t get Evan to stand still long enough for her to ask them. He had nominated himself the mobile member of their team and was mostly out running errands and meeting with his mysterious contacts.
Whoever his friends were, they had certainly come through with a plethora of inside information. As a consequence, the office looked far less tidy and organized than it had that first morning. Rolled plans stood in the corners and stacks of papers lay on every available horizontal surface, as if a filing cabinet had exploded. Some of the piles waited to be read, others wanted returning to their rightful owner, while one pile needed to be copied so they could hand them to the planning commission.
Anna had also pulled some strings: her boss, Carl, had put her in contact with other architects in the area. They had offered plans of other completed projects that matched theirs in one way or another. Their defense was coming together and she was fairly certain they would be able to convince the commissioners—all except Ms. Shermer—of the value of the project. If only they could complete the work in time.
She returned to her seat in front of the computer and outlined her thoughts. The words came and she began to type. She made some presentation graphs showing peak volumes of traffic during the day. After that, she worked on a chart comparing the number of jobs and wages lost and gained by the project. Two hours later, she heard the alarm beep and a door close: Evan was home. Resisting the urge to go downstairs and greet him like a happy housewife, Anna kept her attention on the screen.
It did no good. The instant he appeared in the doorway of the office, she swiveled in her chair and greeted him with a grin and a warm, welcoming, “Hi!” Anna immediately cringed at herself. Why did she feel so bubbly when he walked back into her life?
Evan was still for a moment, his expression unreadable, then he smiled slightly. “Well, you’re in a good mood. Here,” he said, dropping another stack of files on the desk in front of her. “This should cure it.”
Anna flipped open the folder and looked at the top document, then back at Evan. His cool response had dampened her spirits more than another pile of paperwork to read. “What’s this?”
“Our case for a zoning variance, I hope. I had to do some bargaining and begging to get it, but Craig thinks it’ll convince the commission.”
“That’s good news,” Anna said, her mood lifting once more.
Sitting in the other office chair, Evan stretched his legs out. He rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. “I hope so.”
“You look tired.” Anna tried to sound casual, but knew she failed.
He put an elbow on the armrest, and propped his chin on his fist. “I didn’t get one of those catnaps you’re so fond of.”
“No one’s stopping you now,” she said tartly, as she blushed.
He had come home yesterday and found her sleeping in his bed. Despite her protests, Anna hadn’t been able to resist the lure of lying there. It had been a mistake. Surrounded by his scent on the pillows and bedding, aching thoughts had kept her wide-awake, wishing he was with her. The penalty was so great that today she had given up and returned to the sofa.
He chuckled. “Too late. If I sleep now, I’ll be up all night.”
“That might happen anyway. We’ve only got the weekend to pull this together.”
“We’ll get it done. The city offices closed a half hour ago,” Evan said, looking at his watch. “I won’t have to run around any more, so I’ll be able to help you.”
“Don’t forget Ian and Mimi’s going-away party tomorrow.”
Evan dropped his head back and groaned. “Damn, I’d forgotten about that. Can we skip it?”
Anna shrugged. “You can. Pop told me he has a surprise for me, so I’m committed.”
“Any idea what he’s got planned?”
Anna shook her head. “I don’t think I want to know. Probably something like a five-foot, papier-mâché statue of Michelangelo’s Pietà.”
Evan chuckled, then gusted another sigh and reached up to loosen his tie with one hand. The first button of his shirt followed. He closed his eyes, his head resting back against the chair. Anna drank in the sight of him, so still and relaxed. The urge to kiss his exposed throat, bared and vulnerable, was overwhelming. Only the
weight of the unspoken matters between them kept her anchored to the chair.
Abruptly, he lifted his head and looked over at her. “You want a pizza? I missed lunch and I’m starved.”
Anna looked at her watch. “No. I should go.”
“Stay. Didn’t you just say we were short on time?” He pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. “What kind do you want?”
Lifting her hands in protest, she let them drop again. Why bother to fight? He was right. “Anything but shrimp.”
“Not even dancing ones?” he asked, his eyes twinkling as he held the phone to his ear.
Anna remembered the conversation at the restaurant in Chinatown; it seemed a lifetime ago. Her heart picked up pace at the teasing light she saw so seldom in his eyes these days. “That was your caveat, not mine.”
He laughed, then spoke over the phone. “Hey, I need a large everything, skip the shrimp and anchovies. Yeah…That’s correct… Half an hour? Great.” He hung up and tossed the phone on the desk. “I’m going to go change. Answer that if anyone calls.”
Before Anna could speak, he was out of the office. She heard the door to his bedroom close, as she turned to her computer again.
Evan came back into the office minutes later. He was dressed in faded jeans and a blue sweatshirt that may at one time have had a logo on it. Now it had an indistinct pattern of white spots across the front. His feet were bare and his hair mussed, the golden strands sticking up. He looked absolutely delicious.
“I need a beer.”
“Don’t you want to go over this stuff?”
“It’ll sound better with beer,” Evan said as he walked out of the room.
A few minutes later, he returned holding two different bottles. He handed one to her. It was her favorite ginger-flavored iced tea. Another thoughtful, caring act from the man who would not marry her. “Thanks.”
He sat and took a long swallow of his beer, then set it aside. “Okay, bring me up to date, chief.”
Anna cleared her throat. As she explained what she had been doing over the past few days, she switched into business mode. It felt safe, soothing. Evan listened intently, asking pertinent questions. In a very short while, he was busy sifting through the stacks of paperwork for information. She felt at ease again. They took a break when the pizza came and dived back into work afterward. The evening flew by.
“Hey, here’s the answer to the traffic study Miriam was bitching about.” He turned and handed a fat document to Anna.
She perused it, adding it to the growing pile and made a note on the computer. “Where did you get all this wonderful stuff?”
“People I know.” Evan flipped through another file folder. “People they know.”
“And how do you know all these…people?”
He shrugged and tossed the folder on their “potentially useful” pile. “I’ve sold them cars, or sold their parents cars, or raced on their boats, or…I don’t know. It happens when you live here too long, I guess. You build up connections you don’t even realize you have until you need them.”
“The small-town life.” Anna typed a few lines.
“I like it.” Evan studied her. “You obviously don’t.”
Anna thought about that before she answered. Her hands stilled on the keyboard. “I don’t think I’d mind it. Not now. When I left, I needed to get away from my family.”
“Three thousand miles is definitely getting away.”
“I don’t know how you stand it. My parents don’t know the meaning of ‘butt out.’”
“Try having parents who don’t butt in at all. My folks hardly seem to care what I do,” Evan said. “I’m envious.”
“It’s not as wonderful as you might think.”
He had turned his back, so Anna couldn’t read his face, but she kept staring at him. “I’m sure your parents care about you.”
“Yeah, sure, they love me and all that. But they had a lot on their plates when I was a kid, with the divorce, then managing their own love lives.” He kept flipping through the paperwork in the file he held. “They stopped telling me what to do a long time ago.”
“So you let my parents do it instead?” Anna shook her head as she laughed a little. “That’s nuts.”
Evan tossed another file on the “completely useless” stack. “I don’t know. The first time your dad yelled at me it felt like I was…like I mattered.”
“Hmm. You must have felt very important around our house.”
Evan chuckled. “Yeah, something like that.”
Anna turned back to her computer and typed a few sentences, thinking about what he said. Over the years, she had never questioned why Evan had attached himself to her family and why his presence was never required at his own home.
“I guess your parents made me feel more loved than mine did,” Evan said slowly. He laughed again, soft and low, with a trace of bitterness. “For a kid, discipline means someone cares. My parents were too busy yelling at each other to yell at me.”
Anna’s hands dropped to her lap as his words piqued her thoughts. She began to see how closely woven Evan was with her parents. Their opinion and approval mattered more to him than it did to her. Swiveling around in her chair, she studied him again. He was hunched over a chart spread out on the desktop. She needed to know if this was true, even if it violated the comfortable, safe mood they had established.
“Evan, is that why you don’t want to tell them? About being the father?” she asked, probing gently. “Because you think they won’t love you anymore?”
Evan lifted his head, looked out the window for a moment, and then his gaze met hers. “I know this is going to hurt them,” he said. “I’d do anything if I could spare them that.”
They stared at each other in silence for a long time. Anna opened her mouth, then closed it. She needed to ask another question, except she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer. Maybe she was digging deeper than she ought.
“What?” he prompted. “Tell me.”
“So it’s not me?” she asked, daring to hope and searching his face for the truth.
He frowned. “You? I don’t understand.”
“It’s not because you’re ashamed of me?”
“Ashamed of you?” His shook his head and his frown deepened. “You asked that once before. I told you the answer.”
“I didn’t believe you. Not after that scene in my office with you, Pop and Carl. I mean, you won’t marry me and maybe you don’t want to marry anyone, but I felt that it must be me and—” Anna stopped and put a hand to her mouth. Where this confused litany was going, she didn’t know. It revealed far too much and she wished she could take it back.
“I’m not ashamed of you, Annie. Not now. Not ever. I swear to you, that’s the truth.”
“If only I hadn’t gotten pregnant.” A single tear trickled down her cheek and she closed her eyes to stop the rest.
In moments, she was being drawn out of her chair and into Evan’s arms. “Please, Annie. Don’t cry.”
“I’m sorry.” In his embrace, the tears came faster.
She loved him. She could no longer feel angry. He could not love her, not the way she and her baby needed, but he was honest and he cared. He had never deceived her. He had deceived her parents, but not from shame. “No, I’m sorry.” Evan pulled her even closer, soothing a hand across her back. “The baby makes no difference. If I was going to marry anyone it would be you.”
Being in his embrace was heaven. His soft words undid her; it was not exactly what she wanted to hear, but he had given them freely and truly. Anna slipped her arms around his waist, leaning into him as she wept. Evan sifted his fingers through her hair, stroking the back of her neck when she hiccuped on a sob. Cupping her face with his hands, he urged her to look up at him. With his thumbs, he wiped away the wetness on her cheeks.
“Sweetheart, don’t cry,” he whispered, bending his head and brushing a soft kiss across her lips. He lifted his head, his eyes searching hers. “I never mean
t to hurt you.”
Blinking back her tears, Anna saw worry, sorrow and tenderness in his green gaze. The need to give comfort—and receive it—had her sliding her hands up his chest to encircle his neck. She kissed him once, then twice, wanting more. Evan drew her close again and slanted his mouth over hers, delving deep, then pulling back.
“Please, Evan,” she said, before he could speak. “Don’t stop. I need you.”
And she did. She needed his touch, his warmth and his love. Even if it was only for tonight.
“No. I won’t hurt you again,” he said, his voice rough.
“You won’t,” Anna said, standing on tiptoe to kiss him again. “I promise I won’t hold you to anything. And this time, I promise I won’t get pregnant.”
He laughed a bit, but she read the hesitation in his face and pressed her body to his in a sensual slide. Desire conquered indecision as he lowered his lips to hers, hot and demanding. Anna’s heart began to race as passion rose between them. Lifting her in his arms, Evan carried her across the hall to his bedroom. Laying her on the bed, he gently covered her with his hard body, kissing her fiercely.
Anna drowned in his touch, his taste. She had wanted this for so long, yet feared that she would never be this close to him again. Running her hands under his sweatshirt, she reached bare skin. His muscles bunched and rippled as he drew her tightly against his chest. Their mouths melded, tongues dancing in concert as they delved deeper and deeper.
Suddenly, he rolled over, so that she lay on top of him. Her legs fell to each side of his, bringing them into intimate contact. Anna moaned, a gasp of pleasure that would not be contained. As if in answer to her call, Evan’s palms smoothed over her thighs to the edge of her skirt, then under it. Grasping her bottom, he arched upward, pressing his erection to her.
The clothes between them were a hindrance she couldn’t stand a second longer. She needed to feel him again, her skin to his. Anna pushed against his chest and he loosened his grip. Evan’s eyes held a question—a concern—she didn’t bother to answer. Rising to her knees, she straddled him and fumbled for the buttons on her blouse. He sat up, too, and pulled his sweatshirt over his head.