Nine-Month Surprise

She wished she dared ask the questions they’d skipped. What kind of work he did. How his marriage had ended.

When he shifted on the seat, his tight shoulders revealed tension. All along, without realizing it, she’d been detecting signs of restless energy and coiled need.

A need she realized she could release.

He turned sharply, his gaze boring into hers. A silent query disturbed the air as clearly as if he’d put it into words.

Was she as ready as he was?

Yes, she thought, her lips parting. Oh, yes.

On the far side of the room, a fiddler attacked his instrument with passion. Leah only half heard the notes wailing to the rafters. Her heart rate sped up and fire danced across her skin as Will stroked her hair. When he removed his hand, she felt a physical sense of loss.

She set down her glass, and he did the same. As they got up, he tossed some bills onto the counter and took her arm.

They made their way into a steamy July night. “I’m parked around back,” she said. “You, too?”

He nodded. As they reached the lot, out of sight of other patrons, he caught Leah’s arm.

She touched his shoulder and her face tilted upward. As he drank in the sight of her, his thumb traced her cheek and hairline. Then his mouth found hers.

Leah reveled in his eager kiss, in the caress trailing down her waist, in his spicy lime scent. When he cupped her bottom and brought her against his hardness, she thought she might melt.

Will lifted his head. “Are you sure about this?”

Leah rested her head on his shoulder. He was the perfect height, perhaps five inches taller, so she fit against him as if they’d been sculpted from the same block of marble. “Yes.”

“I’ll follow you,” he said.

She gave him the name of her motel in case he got lost.

Alone in her rental car, navigating the glittering downtown streets, Leah knew she could still change her mind. Still do the sensible thing. Still back off from taking a ridiculous risk in all sorts of ways that didn’t bear thinking about. And there were moral issues that she’d been raised to respect.

Just this once, why not take a chance?

She had no idea where her actions might lead, she acknowledged as she checked the rearview mirror and saw his headlights a car length behind. The funny part was that she didn’t expect to get a lot out of the experience. What she wanted to do, most of all, was give.

She doubted Will had come into the Wayward Drummer to pick up a woman. Instead, she had the impression he’d been fighting his desire for her. This man was complicated.

She doubted she’d get a chance to figure him out. They might never meet again.

At thirty-two, Leah had stopped agonizing about finding Mr. Right. Since she wanted children, she planned to adopt a youngster who might otherwise languish in a series of foster homes or in an orphanage overseas. After she got settled in a new job, of course.

The decision not to worry about whether she ever married had freed her to take chances. Like inviting Will back to her room. Like coming to Austin in the first place.

Leah had chosen the Texas state capital for a lot of reasons: its large university, its bustling economy and a country-music industry that reminded her of Nashville, where she’d attended college. She’d also come because her cousin Josie had been urging her to visit.

Unfortunately, Josie had demonstrated the irresponsibility common to Leah’s father’s side of the family. She hadn’t mentioned that her boyfriend had recently moved into her one-bedroom apartment, bringing along a large, shaggy dog. There wasn’t even room for Leah to hang up her clothes, which in any case would be covered with dog hairs before she got to an interview. So she’d rented a room.

She’d arranged for two job interviews: at a public and a private school. After having dinner with her cousin last night, Leah had squeezed in a visit to the State Capitol and the LBJ Library and Museum and bought a large poster to show her students this fall. Unless a new job came through faster than expected, she’d still be teaching at her familiar classroom in Downhome.

Tonight, she’d decided to check out a bar her best friend had recommended—a tip from someone Karen had met recently. What a lucky break, Leah thought.

The rearview mirror showed Will in place behind her as she caught an east-west artery toward the airport area. Leah recalled a conversation she’d had a few months earlier with Jenni Vine, who’d recently moved to Downhome from L.A. In dire need of doctors, the town had advertised widely and Jenni, a family practitioner, had been the first hired. She’d also become a friend.

Jenni had offered to prescribe contraception before Leah left on her trip, but she’d declined. After drifting apart from her college boyfriend ten years ago, she’d been celibate, and certainly hadn’t expected to go to bed with anyone soon.

Contraception. What was she going to do about that? she wondered. She’d have to use something.

As she neared the motel, Leah watched in vain for a pharmacy. Still debating what to do, she turned into the lot and parked outside her room.

Will eased his dark, late-model sedan into a space some distance away. Leah wondered whether he’d chosen it so she wouldn’t see decals that might indicate where he worked. Since they’d agreed not to pigeonhole each other, he had a right to his privacy.

She enjoyed the way he strolled toward her with quiet confidence, neither arrogant nor uncertain. “Problem?” he asked when he saw her expression.

“I’m not on the Pill.” That ought to be blunt enough. “I didn’t see a drugstore.”

“It’s taken care of.” Catching her hand, he added, “Not that I do this sort of thing often. I just believe in being prepared.”

Leah refused to worry about why he considered it necessary to be prepared. She hadn’t taken him for a hermit, had she?

When she opened the door, she noticed at once how impersonal the room looked. The only signs that it belonged to her were her book on the nightstand and the robe tossed over a chair. It even smelled impersonal.

Will closed the door and, standing behind her, slipped his hands around Leah’s waist. Feeling his body press into her back as he stroked upward through her blouse, she relaxed, trusting him. When he cupped her breasts, she gasped with pleasure.

Their contact felt so intimate. And powerfully stimulating as his thumbs aroused her nipples and his mouth soothed the sensitive curve of her neck. Then Leah turned, and Will kissed her on the mouth.

His fingers made short work of her blouse and bra. Soon, his palms began caressing her bare breasts, filling her with hot longing.

He didn’t speak. He seemed utterly caught up in what they were doing, and so was she.

Leah didn’t recognize this woman who yearned to excite a stranger. She couldn’t explain why she felt no shyness as she traced her tongue along his throat, down to the pulse point.

When he tossed off his jacket she reached for his belt, but it defied her efforts. “I guess you don’t make a habit of this sort of thing, either,” Will murmured as he guided her hands to his bulge. Together, they undid the belt and zipper.

Leah didn’t care to admit her relative inexperience. He probably wouldn’t stop, but it might make him careful. And she preferred to strip away his inhibitions the way he’d removed hers. She wanted to dissolve whatever had made him frown when he’d come into the bar. She wanted to make him happy.

Being with Will was fun—helping him remove her skirt, kicking off her shoes, finding herself half lifted and half tossed onto the bed. He poised over her, pants sliding down as Leah removed her pantyhose. Will shifted her panties out of the way and pressed against her, bare flesh to bare flesh. Surprised as he parted her, she caught her breath.

“Sorry,” Will said. “I can’t wait, honey.”

“It’s all right. More than all right.”

He was inside her, big and fierce and gentle. Curving over her, sucking her nipples as he moved in and out. Ecstasy radiated through her.

Abruptly, she remembered. “Will! The protection!”

He stopped. “Oh. Damn.” A cool emptiness replaced him, and then he was back. Leah felt his movements as he unrolled the condom.