Chapter 15 #2
Like the rag doll she was, her head flopped onto his shoulder as he carried her to bed.
When he had her settled under the covers, he returned to the bathroom for a washcloth that he dampened and brought back to the bed to run over her face.
Keeping her eyes closed, she said, “You don’t have to do this.”
“Hush. I don’t do anything I don’t want to do.”
A tear slipped from her closed eye and was wiped away by the gentle sweep of the cloth over her cheek.
Laura took hold of his free hand. While she knew she shouldn’t be relying on him this way, especially after what’d happened last night, at some point he’d become her rock.
She couldn’t imagine not holding on to him.
“How about some tea? I’ll make it nice and weak.”
Laura opened her eyes and found him watching her with concern. “That’d be nice. Thank you.”
“Sure thing.”
She watched him go—tall, broad-shouldered and handsome in the sloppy way she used to disdain when she was busy looking for a clean-cut preppy to marry.
Look at how that had turned out. Back then, before Justin, she never would’ve given a man like Owen a second look.
His hair was too long, and he was often in need of a shave, not to mention he was proud of the fact that he lived out of his van and had no permanent job or address.
And yet he was ten times the man her law-school graduate husband was. No, that wasn’t giving Owen enough credit. He was a hundred times the man Justin was.
Owen’s phone rang, and he took the call while he waited for the water to boil.
Laura couldn’t hear what he was saying, but the rumble of his deep voice was comforting. Her eyes grew heavy, so she let them close. When she felt Owen’s weight land next to her on the mattress, she startled awake to find him holding the mug of tea.
He helped her to sit up and settled her against a pile of pillows that he arranged behind her.
“You’re spoiling me.”
He brushed a stray lock of hair back from her face. “You deserve a little spoiling.”
“Owen . . . About what happened last night . . .”
“We don’t have to talk about that, Princess. It’s all good. I promise.”
“It’s just that . . .” Laura ran a finger around the edge of the mug as she tried to find the words she needed. “I wanted you to know . . .”
“What, honey?”
Everything inside her went soft and needy when he called her honey. He waited to hear what she had to say, as if nothing had ever been so important to him.
Taking a deep, fortifying breath, she said, “I didn’t want you to think that I . . . didn’t like it. Kissing you.” She forced her gaze up to meet his and found him staring hotly at her. “That wasn’t the case.”
“Oh. Really?”
“If things were different—”
“You know what the good news is?”
“There’s good news?” she asked with a laugh.
“There’s always good news, and in this case, it’s that your situation won’t always be what it is today. Who knows what’ll happen a month or two from now, six months, a year?”
“True.” She could only hope things would get better. It couldn’t get any worse, could it?
“That was Grant on the phone. They’re having a going-away party for Abby tonight. She’s going to Texas to join Cal since he can’t come back, with his mother being so ill after her stroke.”
“Grant is having the party for Abby?”
“Along with Stephanie, apparently.”
“Wow, that’s nice of them. What about Abby’s store?”
“I heard Maddie’s sister, Tiffany, is taking over her lease and opening a new store next summer.”
“So many changes for everyone.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Things change. You know that all too well. You’re going through a rough spot right now. No doubt about that, but it won’t always be this way. You’ve got so much to look forward to with a new job and a new baby on the way.”
Laura rested her hand on top of his much bigger one. “And new friends.”
His smile transformed his face. She wondered if he knew that. “That, too.” He cast his eyes down at their joined hands. “So, um, do you want to go to Abby’s party with me?” The question was asked with a hint of shyness and uncertainty that touched her.
“Sure, that would be fun.”
He seemed relieved that she’d agreed to go with him. “How’s the belly?”
“Much better. It always is after I get good and sick. I wish it didn’t wipe me out the way it does, though.”
“Why don’t you take a nap?”
“I need to get to work around here. Your grandparents didn’t hire me to nap the day away.”
“You’ve got all winter to get this place whipped into shape. Taking care of yourself and the baby is your top priority.”
“You won’t tell them I’m slacking?” she asked with a teasing smile.
He brought their linked hands to his lips and placed a tender kiss on the back of hers. “Your secret is safe with me.” Releasing her hand, he added, “Get some rest. The party is at six, so I’ll meet you downstairs a little before?”
“Sounds good.”
He got up and headed for the door.
“Owen?”
Turning back to her, he raised a brow.
“Thanks.”
“Any time, Princess.” Owen closed the door behind him. In the hallway, he leaned against the wall and let his head fall back as his eyes closed tight against the desire to rush back in there and take her in his arms, to show her how much he’d liked kissing her.
But he couldn’t do that. No, he had to keep his distance. The irony wasn’t lost on him. He’d finally met a woman he could picture spending the rest of his life with, and she wasn’t available. It was comical, really. Mr. Footloose and Fancy-Free brought low by a woman he couldn’t have.
If you’d told him a month ago that he’d be rearranging his life to accommodate a woman who was married to another guy and pregnant with his kid, Owen would’ve laughed his ass off. Now he couldn’t conceive of a day that didn’t include her. Funny, huh?
“Freaking hilarious,” he muttered on his way downstairs.
As he landed in the lobby, the hotel’s main door opened, and Grace poked her head in. “Oh, hi, Owen. I knocked, but no one answered.”
“Come on in, Grace. What’s up?”
“I was wondering if Laura might be around.”
He glanced at the stairs. “She’s in her apartment on the third floor, but she’s not feeling too hot this morning.”
“Is it the baby?” Grace asked, full of concern.
Owen was surprised to realize Laura had told her new friends about the baby. He’d sort of liked that it was their little secret, which was ridiculous. It had nothing to do with him. “Morning sickness. She’s plagued with it.”
Grace winced. “That’s awful. I can come back later.”
“The worst of it’s over for today.” As if he were some sort of authority on the pattern of Laura McCarthy’s morning sickness. “She might welcome the company.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’m sure she’d want to see you.” Because, of course, he was also an expert on what she might want. “Third floor to the right.”
“Thanks, Owen.”
Sputtering to himself, Owen went off to find his surfboard. He needed to expend some of the energy zinging through his veins before he did something really stupid.