She should have known better. Couldn’t believe she’d actually been that naive...

  Tears rolled quietly down her cheeks and she sat there, at their mercy. She wasn’t a sobber. Couldn’t release huge, racking hiccups that would vomit the tension and pain inside her. All she could do was sit with it.

  That was the only way she knew. As she felt the couch sink beside her, a memory came. Of another evening, in the middle of the night. She’d gotten her period. Again. And all of the months of disappointment had been too much for her. She’d lost it. Started to babble about being a failure, ruining their dreams. Not even being able to conceive a child, let alone being a good mother to one.

  And Seth had been there. Taking her in his arms, holding her steadily against his chest. And just...doing that. Holding on.

  Memory molded into reality and Annie gave in to the comfort being offered. Leaned into Seth, accepting. Comfort. Him. Warmth. Love. She took it all in.

  And gave it back out, too. Her arms sliding around him, she was aware of his pain. His struggle. His wish to be something different than he was.

  Her tears didn’t last all that long. They seldom did.

  But when they stopped, she didn’t pull back. There might not ever be another time that she could lie against him. They were in their time out of time. They both knew it. Would expect nothing to come of their taking that moment of comfort.

  She didn’t speak. Didn’t want words to break the spell. Just needed to lie there long enough for them to recharge each other.

  They couldn’t be a couple. Couldn’t be just friends. But they were something that mattered. Something they both needed.

  Because of the babies that had brought them back together.

  But she suspected it was something more than that.

  She and Seth...they’d always had more power together than apart. Like only when they were together could either of them get to fast-charge mode.

  Her right hand lay on his chest, an inch from her face. The left was behind him. Her curled fist touching him. Flattening her fingers, she let them spread against his back. Let them hold him to her. To fully experience what could be their last joining, body to body.

  No way they could let it happen again. Neither one of them was stupid enough to believe they’d get away with physical contact. Not between the two of them.

  Together, Seth’s body and hers had always been combustible. His back felt so good. Firm. She knew the shape of his spine, and though she wasn’t running her hand along it, she remembered for a second how it would feel if she did. And the dimple in his lower back, two inches above the start of his buttocks. She used to tease him about it because it fit her finger exactly.

  She’d told him it was proof that his body had been made just for her.

  The thought brought a deep pang. She lay with it. Holding him through it. And wondered if her finger still fit him.

  Or if his body had grown out of her when it had grown so much more muscular.

  She wouldn’t have to move her hand, only one finger, to find out.

  And not even all that much. Not noticeably.

  One thought poured on top of another and Annie had moved that finger before she’d had any time to consider doing so. And let out a breath when she found her mark. Snuggled into home.

  Stupid thing to have matter so much.

  And yet it did.

  No matter what happened with him, she still had her place.

  It took her a second to realize her finger was moving of its own accord. Almost imperceptibly. Loving the spot it had found. Finding haven in it.

  And then another few seconds to see the effect her movement was having on Seth. With her head on his chest facing slightly downward, and the light from the TV screen shining on them, she couldn’t help but notice a bit of growth down below.

  Which quickly expanded into major growth. His penis had always been able to go from relaxed to ready in a blink. Thing was, she had no idea what to do.

  Did she ignore what he’d have to realize she’d notice?

  Jerk away and make a big awkward moment out of it?

  Or did she calmly and gently move her hand from his chest to cover the evidence? Just to acknowledge that it was there, and it was okay.

  As his hardness seemed to jump into her hand, she figured she’d made the best choice.

  Reactions were accepted between them. All part of being completely honest.

  Or so she told herself as she cupped him. She knew exactly what to do. How to move, where to touch, what pressure to use. How to please the tip of him.

  How to take away his discomfort.

  It wasn’t sex. She wasn’t allowed to have sex for another day yet.

  She was just helping him.

  Relieving him.

  When his hips lifted upward, into her palm, she knew exactly what he needed. And gave it to him. Shivers shooting through her in the most delicious way as she recognized his sudden groan and covered the tip of him in time to catch his bounty.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Euphoria gave way to reality and Seth felt an apology on the tip of his tongue. He kept it there. Annie wasn’t pulling away from him.

  She didn’t seem at all sorry.

  Using the leg of his shorts he wiped her hand. His underwear and waistband had caught most of the explosion. And he didn’t give a rat’s ass about being wet down there.

  He cared about her.

  About finding a them that let him see her. For the babies, yes. But not just for those new little beings they’d created in their youth. For him and her, too. For some kind of “them.”

  They’d been so filled with themselves a decade before. So certain of their omniscience.

  They’d created one hell of a mess for themselves.

  And they’d created new life.

  He needed to touch her. To stroke her nipples in the way that shot fire down between her legs, made her wet and hungry. To slide a hand down her pants and finger all the right places. He needed to do a hell of a lot more than that.

  But he couldn’t.

  Because she couldn’t.

  Period.

  Not that night. The doctor had said at least two days without sex, but had advised three to be safe.

  And after that night...they’d be back to real life.

  Whatever it turned out to be. They’d know the results of the amnio. And they’d know if they were having boys or girls or one of each. They’d have reality on their hands.

  And not each other’s bodies. That much was a given.

  But they had the night. A span of hours spent down in the rabbit hole his mother used to read to him about when he was just a little guy.

  It didn’t take much to move her down with him on the couch, to reach into the trunk by the couch and pull out the blanket she’d said was there, and to settle her against him in a supine position instead of a sitting one.

  The task was made easier with her help. No doubt that Annie was a willing participant that night. He turned off the TV and settled down to spend one last night with her in his arms.

  A gift he’d never once, in the decade since their divorce, imagined he’d have.

  He didn’t read a lot into it. They’d been honest with each other. There was a definite level of comfort in that. And maybe it was a plan for their future. They’d design it as they went, with certain things understood, letting the rest bear itself out a day at a time through honest communication.

  She’d snuggled against him, fitting into the lines of his body as though she’d never left, her little bulge of a stomach settling partially against his side, and partially on his stomach. He wasn’t sure he was going to sleep. Hoped he didn’t sleep. He didn’t want to lose one moment of their time. But knew she needed her rest.

  She was resting for three.

  God, let it stay three.

  Seth wasn’t a praying man, but as he lay there, he started to silently talk to the being that allowed his mother to be taken from him at the hand of a violent criminal. He didn’t ask why. He’d long ago accepted that that was a question for which he’d never receive an answer. He didn’t ask for anything for himself.

  He asked for the health of Annie’s family. For special care and watch over the two little fetuses that were sharing her womb...

  “We’re going to find out if they’re boys or girls.” Her voice was half muffled by his chest. Her chin dug into him a little as she talked.

  He swallowed. Searched for words. Came up short.

  Mostly she was going to find out. She was the one who’d be raising them on a daily basis. Having them in her home. Watching as they learned every new thing. Hearing first words. And innocent perceptions. Being there to kiss their pain away. To soothe their hurts.

  Things he used to think about.

  Things he was starting to crave again, with Annie and their kids. His career had stepped in. Giving him such incredible satisfaction. Challenge. Travel and occasional excitement, too.

  Giving him a sense of personal fulfillment that so many never found...

  He must be more tired than he thought.

  Law enforcement had given Annie that sense of fulfillment.

  “Do you hope for two of the same gender or one of each?” She didn’t sound any sleepier than she had the last time she’d spoken.

  And didn’t seem to be traveling far from the one topic, either.

  “I’m not letting myself think about it.”

  She stiffened against him. Relaxed again. “Why not?”

  So like her to take that step no one else would dare to with him. Ask him for honesty and then put him on the spot.

  He’d put himself on the spot the second he’d told her he wanted to be the baby’s guardian.

  “I can’t take charge of them.” There. That hadn’t been so hard.

  “Why not?”

  “Because they’re yours.”

  “Biologically they’re yours, too. And you’re their legal guardian.”

  A status that only went into effect if something happened to her. And that was not a mental trip he was going to take that night. He’d traveled it too often in the past.

  He wasn’t screwing up the hours he’d just stumbled upon.

  Which meant he had to think about the gender of the babies she was carrying. To be honest with her.

  Truthfully, if they were born healthy, he didn’t care. He’d love them the same. And care for and protect them as much as his role would allow.

  And some truths didn’t need to be shared. Probably wasn’t kind to tell a woman worried about her children having abnormalities that he’d love them with rabbit ears.

  “I’m going to leave that one to fate,” he finally answered.

  At which time Annie lifted herself up on his chest, her elbow digging into his rib cage, as she frowned at him. “You call that honesty?” she challenged, just as she’d have done when they were young. “I call it a cop-out.”

  “It’s not!” He heard the exclamation in his tone with a bit of shock. Since when did he get all het up about anything? “I swear,” he told her, calming down, thinking he liked it better when her breasts were pressing against him, rather than her arms into him. “I think two of the same gender would be good in a lot of ways. They’ll be best friends in all things, going through life’s phases in the same ways, in terms of, you know, testosterone or other hormones. And buying for them will be easier, at least to begin with. And birthday cakes and nursery, you know, more feminine colors, or, airplanes and boats...”

  Not that little girls wouldn’t like airplanes and boats. Annie had done just fine on some of the country’s biggest ships...

  “But then, I think, with the fact that we’re the age we are...that there might be just this one shot...it might be nice for you to have one of each.”

  For a guy who didn’t usually go on much, he’d sure had a lot to say about something he’d claimed to have given no thought to.

  He was pretty sure Annie had already reached the conclusion. She had the decency not to say that—or anything else, either.

  “What do you want?” he asked a few minutes later. Her breathing was still too shallow for her to be asleep, and he wanted to know. Just so he’d be prepared to support her the next day when they found out.

  “I don’t care if they come out with green noses,” she said. “I just want them to be healthy. And happy.”

  Seth smiled in the darkness.

  He’d gone for rabbit ears. She’d chosen green noses.

  Their sentiment was exactly the same.

  They were two peas in a pod.

  Too bad they’d ripped the pod in two.

  * * *

  Annie awoke before Seth the next morning, sliding off the couch, off him, and tiptoeing back to take a shower.

  Reality pouring down on her head.

  Their time out of time was done. They’d hear the results and he’d be leaving. Heading back to his solitary life while she resumed hers.

  She hadn’t miscarried.

  Thank God.

  She’d touched him. Made love to him in her own way. And he hadn’t run off...

  And in a matter of hours, she’d know if there was more to handle than a normal pregnancy required. No more hoping. Or hiding.

  She’d know.

  And know whether that little one, that weakened heartbeat, belonged to a boy or a girl. And she’d know if both of the babies were free of birth defects.

  Knowing their gender made them more real. Bringing huge potential for joy.

  And for worry.

  In a matter of hours, Seth would be returning to San Diego and the life he had there.

  And the only thing she knew for certain about them was that they were going to be honest with each other.

  Dressed in blue pants, a white shirt and a blue pullover sweater, she put gel in her hair, ran her fingers through the spikes, and went out to face their future.

  Seth wasn’t there. His bedroom door had been open when she’d passed. There’d been no sign of him. Hadn’t heard him in the adjoining bathroom. But when there was no sign of him in the kitchen, she went back to the bathroom to check. And noticed that his bag was gone.

  All of his things were gone.

  With a sense of dread, she looked out the bedroom window to where his car had been parked in the driveway, only to see empty cement.

  He’d left.

  The night, the sex, sleeping with each other on the couch...it had been too much for him. He couldn’t do it.

  And he’d left.

  Because that was what Seth did.

  And that was why, though she might love him, she knew not to give him her whole heart. To rely on him. Trying to pretend it wasn’t already too late, that she was fine, Annie walked to the kitchen. She was reaching for a pod of decaffeinated tea when she heard a noise in the garage, and then the door opened.

  Seth was there in his navy whites, carrying a holder bearing two cups from her favorite coffee shop.

  “This is definitely a decaf pumpkin latte morning,” he told her, handing her the cup while he dislodged his own from the holder.

  Annie tried to thank him, but she had a lump in her throat. Turned so he wouldn’t see the sudden tears in her eyes. Took a sip to compose herself and burned her mouth.

  She didn’t want him to know that she’d thought he’d walked out on her again.

  At the same time, she acknowledged that she also believed that it would only be a matter of time before he did so.

  They loved each other. In some ways they were very, very good together.

  But the problems between them hadn’t changed.

  Sure, she could quit her job. Find a career that didn’t fulfill her. She’d do it, too, to have Seth and the babies and her as a family. But that wouldn’t fix the underlying issue.

  Because she’d always know that something else could come up, a choice one of the kids made even, and he’d be gone.

  Or expect her to let the child go.

  Like her grandfather had done.

  And was still doing.

  No. Seth wasn’t selfish. He was just...

  Before she could complete the thought, or turn to thank him, her phone rang.

  Work. Sleeping with Seth on the couch...she hadn’t been able to make herself get up as early as she should have...

  “It’s the clinic,” she said as soon as she saw the screen, and then looked at Seth. His blue gaze held hers for a second, and then glanced toward her phone.

  Telling her it was going to be all right.

  Or giving her the strength to accept what was to come.

  “Hello?”

  She listened. Took in the news as a professional. Mentally logging details. She cried a little. Sniffing as she hung up the phone. And saw Seth standing there, his look intent. And his heart in his gaze.

  “They’re both fine...” Her voice broke on the last word and she started to cry in earnest. Tears of relief. Of pent-up worry that had just grown and grown and grown. Stepping up to her, as she crumpled toward him, he held her.

  And she held him, too. Feeling the trembling in the muscles beneath her hands.

  Instinctively knowing that he was far more emotionally involved than he was letting on.

  A few minutes later, when she pulled back, she could tell he’d shed a tear or two. His lashes were wet.

  The man’s heart was all there.

  She was beginning to realize it always had been.

  “Do you want to know their genders?” she asked.

  His grin was huge as he said, “I think you just told me.”

  She frowned. “What?”

  “You said genders, plural!” There was no mistaking the excitement in his voice.

  And of course, he was right. “The little one is the boy,” she told him, feeling oddly happy about that. Boys seemed to grow easier than girls. In her mind at least. And any son of Seth’s...he’d be able to fight whatever life gave him and win.