Chapter 8
Bill took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He’d seen women breastfeed before and knew everything was covered, but the mere thought of her naked breast so close at hand, coupled with her being pressed up against him, proved to be too much.
The remainder of the car ride passed in a torturous silence where there was nothing to distract him from the errant images floating through his mind.
Thank heavens they finally arrived, and he could throw himself into work.
There was nothing sensual about hauling boxes.
At least from his perspective. If she happened to enjoy the view, he wouldn’t mind.
He was relieved Hank was flying today and couldn’t join. Ladies never looked at him when Hank was around. Without Hank here, he stood a chance of being the center of her attention. She was certainly the center of his.
Was it his imagination, or was she looking especially lovely today?
She was wearing a grey shirtwaist with a black skirt, a change from her usual unrelenting black.
The cut of it flattered her figure, hugging her hips before it flared out.
Her glorious auburn hair was in a loose bun and glowed around her face like a fiery halo.
Had she put effort into looking nice for him?
Pritchard and Thompson arrived and helped him begin the unloading. Mary took Junior while Ann directed where things should go. Once the furniture was done, Ann retired to the kitchen to make sandwiches. An hour was all it took to unload everything.
When they were done, they squeezed into the sitting room, all three of the men on the sofa, leaving the two wingback chairs for the ladies.
Junior had been put down for a nap in his crib.
Ann brought in the sandwiches and put them on the coffee table.
Then she brought cups and a pitcher of lemonade.
Lastly, she asked, “Who would like a beer?”
All three men raised their hands. Then Mary smiled and raised her hand too. “I’ll have one too, if you’ll have one with us.”
Ann’s eyebrows shot up, but she nodded. Moments later, she came back with five beers, handing them around and then opening her own and sniffing it with suspicion.
“To your new home,” Pritchard toasted.
Ann took a sip and winced.
“To sandwiches and beer,” said Thompson, oblivious.
She took another sip, and her expression was slightly less disgusted.
“To Mrs. Prince.” Mary raised her beer in salute.
With everyone looking at her, Ann took a deep drink. She smiled, and Bill wondered if anyone else saw how much effort it took. Maybe he should have spoken up. He didn’t want her to do something she was uncomfortable with for their sake. But something about her determined look stopped him.
“To the future,” Bill said carefully, holding her gaze.
Her eyes widened, but then she nodded, raising her beer again and taking another sip with nary a wince.
“To good and helpful friends.” She took yet another swig, this time without being prompted. “Thank you all so much for your help today. I cannot express how much I appreciate what you’ve done for me.”
“It was our pleasure.” Thompson grabbed a sandwich.
“Anything for a friend of O’Donnell’s.” Pritchard guzzled his beer.
“Especially a lady friend.” Thompson smirked at Bill.
“Especially a lady friend.” Pritchard winked at her.
Bill wanted to strangle them both.
“We’re all impressed that you’ve captured O’Donnell’s notoriously roving eye.” Thompson took a bite of his sandwich, oblivious to Bill’s glare. Why did he invite his friends again? He should have known they would make trouble.
Ann sat stiff as a board in her armchair, avoiding his gaze.
Christ. What would she think of him after this? Bill gave Thompson a warning look.
Thompson’s smile dropped, and he cleared his throat. “Not that his eye has roved lately. He’s been gaga over you ever since the Belmont girl’s party.”
Even worse! Couldn’t Thompson see Ann was ready to bolt from her own home? Gritting his teeth, Bill looked daggers at his friend and watched as Ann took another deliberate sip of beer, unprompted.
“Bill has been a perfect gentleman every time I’ve seen him.” Good Lord, she was defending him.
Pritchard raised an eyebrow and looked at him.
Bill wanted to crawl under the carpet.
“He really has,” Ann protested. “He’s been visiting for weeks to fix my roof, and he’s never made advances.”
Thompson was now staring at him too, shaking with the effort to hold back laughter.
“I have nothing but the deepest respect for Ann,” Bill said, knowing full well his desires had gotten out of hand that very morning.
“‘Ann,’ is it?” Thompson tilted his head to the side. “You two are on a first name basis? I’ve known you for two years, and you still call me ‘Thompson.’”
“That’s different.” Bill picked up a sandwich, wondering how he could escape this conversation. If he took a bite, would that make Thompson shut up?
“Exactly how is it different?” Thompson leaned forward.
Apparently not. Bill gulped down the bite he was chewing. “We work together. Everybody calls each other by their last names.”
Ann hiccupped, drawing everyone’s attention. Her beer can was tilting sideways in her hand. Oh my. She must have finished it. Ann, who never drank.
“I asked him to call me Ann.” Her polite indignation on his behalf was making him feel even worse. “He’s a very nice gentleman, and I like him. He always brings me strawberry cake or cupcakes. Did you know that? Every time.”
Oh God. She was exposing him for the romantic he was at heart. He would never hear the end of it. This would have been a good time for the floor to swallow him.
“O’Donnell, where’s our strawberry cake?” Pritchard waggled his eyebrows at Bill.
Swallowing down his ire, he tried for a light, joking tone. “I couldn’t very well bring a cake today. Where would I put it?”
The sooner he could get his friends out of Ann’s house the better. Thank God there was no cake to make them linger.
“That’s all right.” Ann stood, eyes alight. “Because I made one. Who would like cake?”
Lord have mercy! She did?
Everyone raised their hands. Of course, they did.
“Would anyone like another beer?” she asked. Again, everyone said yes. This was a disaster. His friends would only get bolder as they drank.
“Let me help you.” Mary followed Ann into the kitchen.
Moments later, Mary was back, handing around beers, once again leaving one for Ann, which made Bill worry. Having hardly ever drunk, she would have no tolerance. If she wasn’t careful, she might get tipsy.
Then Ann emerged from the kitchen, wiping everything from his mind.
She was carrying the most beautiful cake he’d ever seen on a delicate white ceramic cake stand.
The sides of the cake were perfectly smooth white with pale pink rosettes bordering the top and bottom.
The top was tiled with paper-thin slices of strawberry arranged in a starburst pattern.
Three large frosting flowers adorned the center.
Bill’s jaw dropped as she put it down right in front of him. He was never going to hear the end of this. Ever.
“I thought you should have the first slice in thanks for everything you’ve done for me.
” The way she looked at him, eyes wide and soft, lush lips curled into a tenuous smile, made him want to reach out and kiss her right then and there, no matter how his friends might rib him for it.
But the connection between them was too fragile, too precious, to risk on such bold action.
“It’s lemon cake with strawberry filling, just like at the Belmont party,” she said. “I had to try several recipes before I got it right, but I think you’ll like it.”
He stared at the cake and then at her. No one had ever made something so beautiful for him. The love and attention that went into it took his breath away. “I don’t know what to say. I’ve never seen such a gorgeous cake in my life.”
He had doubted her feelings for him, but this was practically a public declaration of love. She must return at least some of his affection if she would spend the time and effort to create a masterpiece like this for him.
Pritchard, Thompson, and Mary were all looking on with wide eyes and open mouths, accidental voyeurs encroaching on an intimate moment between them.
“Wait ’til you taste it.” Ann’s eyes were full of warmth and something more.
She disappeared into the kitchen for a few moments and came back with dessert plates, forks, and a cake server for slicing.
Taking the cake server, she sliced the cake, carefully giving him an entire frosting flower. As she handed it to him, their fingers brushed, and his throat went dry. It was too much. He swallowed hard.
Her gaze lingered on him for a long moment before she returned to the business of slicing up the cake for everyone else.
Eating the cake felt nearly erotic. It was every bit as good as the Belmont cake, maybe even better.
It was something she made for the pleasure of his lips and tongue, so smooth and creamy with a wicked little bite of lemon.
Oh, dear God. His pants were getting tight over a slice of cake.
Roof tiles, boxes, airplanes, his parents. There. Danger averted.
At least until she started eating.
He had to close his eyes and look away so as not to see the pleasure she took, nor to see her lips and tongue closing around the very same cake that had just touched his lips and tongue. It was a kiss at a distance, so intimate and innocent at the same time.
He turned to Mary to take his mind off it. She wore a smirk, and her eyebrows were practically to her hairline. Was it so obvious what he felt? Did they all see how much more than a piece of cake this was? The look on Mary’s face said yes. His ears were aflame as he turned away.
Thompson and Pritchard glanced at each other, then at him, holding back laughter. He jabbed Thompson in the side with his elbow. Thompson promptly cleared his throat and said with a straight face, “Excellent cake, Mrs. Prince. My compliments. I don’t think I’ve tasted better.”
“Not even Myrtle’s cake?” Pritchard teased.
“I couldn’t say because she’s never baked me a cake.” Thompson gave Pritchard a warning look, both of them burst out laughing. Still chuckling, Thompson opened his second beer and raised it. “To cake.” He took a swig. “I’m not sure beer goes with cake.”
“Nonsense. Beer goes with everything.” Pritchard raised his bottle. “To beer.”
Ann opened her second bottle and took a drink. “To laughing with friends,” she said with a slightly addled look in her eyes. She smiled widely and drank deep.
At that moment, a piercing wail went up from the other room. Bill and Ann jumped up at the same time. Bill beat her to the back room and picked up Junior who immediately settled in his arms. Ann halted beside him and put a hand on his arm.
He froze, not sure how to respond. He knew how he would like to respond, but that was out of the question.
Rising up on tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his cheek. The urge to fold her into his arms and kiss her on the lips was almost overwhelming, but somehow, he held back. “We shouldn’t linger. They’ll draw the wrong conclusions.”
She nodded and followed him out to the sitting room where everyone was giving them knowing looks. He still held Junior in his arms and realized too late how odd that must look to his friends. Reluctantly, he handed Junior over to Ann, and she settled into her chair, bouncing Junior on her knee.
“I love babies.” He smiled and shrugged.
“He really does.” Thank God for Mary.
Finishing his beer, Pritchard nudged Thompson. “We should get going.”
“Must you?” Ann rose. “It’s been such a pleasure getting to know you.”
“You’ve been a very generous hostess.” Thompson clapped Pritchard on the knee and stood. “But Pritchard is right. He and I should head out. We have to fly tomorrow.”
“Thank you so much for all your help. I hope we meet again.”
Thompson tipped his cap. “No trouble at all, ma’am. Congratulations on your new home.”
“Congratulations.” Pritchard followed suit.
Together, they headed out to Pritchard’s car and drove off. Bill was going to hear about this at length next time he saw them, he knew. But who cares? She kissed my cheek and baked me a cake.
Mary cleared her throat. “Bill, we should go too. I shouldn’t leave Mother with the children all day.”
Bill nodded. “All right.”
“I’ll see you soon, Ann. Don’t be a stranger.” Mary headed out to the truck, leaving him alone with Ann.
“I have to go.” He stepped closer to Ann, unable to resist the invisible tug between them.
“I know.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
“Yes, very soon.”
He bent down and kissed Junior on the forehead, then, unable to resist, he cupped her cheek and kissed her forehead, breathing in her apple-scented hair. Pulling back, he tipped up her chin. “Thank you.”
He took one last look, drinking her in. Knowing he had to leave now or risk losing all restraint, he turned and headed toward the door.
“Thank you,” she whispered as he walked out the door.
He paused, took one last look, and left, leaving his heart behind with her.