"Samantha Lightfoot!" Tessa cut in, her hands on her hips. "I will never get used to the way you just blurt things out."
"It's only the truth." She shrugged, then looked at Dia, giving her a quick squeeze. "So tell your big sister, when was the last time you cut loose, like in the old days when I had to drag you from some daring feat or a wild party with too many boys before Dad found you?"
"Too long," Dia muttered sourly, a streak of longing in her eyes.
Tessa laughed, handing Dia the pint of soft ice cream and pushing her onto the couch. Sam sank into the chair, clicking the pause off on the tape in time to see Sir Lancelot give Queen Guinevere the kiss that rewrote history. Collectively, they sighed dreamily. Then Tessa realized that one kiss had brought down Camelot.
Three hours later, Tessa left the bathroom, yawning, and dragging a brush through her hair. She kicked off her slippers, laid the brush aside, then drew the covers down, switching off the light before slipping into bed. She stared into the darkness, her fingers moving over her belly. Her child was sleeping, she thought, then hoped, for she needed rest. With Chase in her life she expended more energy then she had keeping him at arm's length. She'd never felt this confused in her life. He was a caring man, but she didn't want him near, didn't want him popping by whenever he wanted as he had tonight. Even if he was a great kisser and a boost to her ego. Tessa wanted her life back the way it was.
Like what? Dull, orderly, efficient? Yes.
Admit it, a voice in her head coaxed. You like him disturbing your peace. No, I don't. God, what a liar.
She rolled onto her side, stuffed a pillow between her knees and one under her tummy before nearly pounding the stuffing out of a third to get comfortable. She didn't know what to expect from Chase, she thought, sinking her head onto the pillow. And his threat that he wasn't going anywhere and she'd better get used to it tormented her rest. She flinched when the phone rang and glanced at the luminous clock before reaching for the receiver in the dark.
"Yes?"
She knew it was him before he spoke. She sensed him through the line as if he were in the room. Unconsciously, she pulled the covers higher over her body.
"Hi." His voice was a low rasp, whiskey rough, and the single word sang through her like a stroke of his hand.
Tessa swallowed and tried to sound perturbed. "There is a good reason you're calling me at this hour?"
"Yeah, there's something real sexy about talking to a woman when you know she's in bed."
She rolled to her back, staring at the canopy drapes. "You're pitiful, Chase."
"I know." There wasn't a shred of regret in his voice and she could almost see him smile. "Did you have fun tonight?"
"Did you?"
"There you go again, talking around your feelings."
"Yes, I had fun. I ate too much ice cream and stayed up too late."
"Is that a hint?"
"You mean you'd get one that wasn't tied around a boulder dropping on your head?"
He chuckled softly, the sound even more devastating than his smile.
"Good night, Tessa." She could hear the rustle of sheets, the phone scraping against his beard, and she wondered if he slept in the nude. Chase would, she decided, and the image did some splendid things to her body.
A small smile curved her lips and very softly she said, "Good night, Chase."
The line disconnected and Tessa replaced the receiver. But it was a long time before she managed to fall asleep, an honest smile and deep blue eyes following her into her dreams.
* * *
Six
"I understand, Dia. No, it's all right. I'll manage. Bye." Tessa hung up the pay phone outside the local community center and sighed, pressing her forehead to the cool metal frame. She tried staying mad at her sister for canceling on such short notice, but Dia's clients were usually at their most desperate when they called her. She considered calling Samantha, then remembered it was the eve of the summer solstice or some other ritual night.
Well, you expected things like this, she reminded herself. A single mother faced a lot of events alone. She just wished it wasn't her first Lamaze class.
The other parents filed past her and she took a deep breath and followed, trying to ignore the mothers-to-be comparing complaints, the husbands or lovers with armloads of pillows. She failed. Tessa felt like the odd man out, like when she was ten years old living in a dinky Colorado town, and she was the only girl in her class not invited to Kelly Pembrook's slumber party.
God, are you emotional tonight, she thought and blamed out-of-whack hormones.
She strode over to Debbie, the instructor, an energetic woman in her late twenties, who on her first visit to Tessa's shop had convinced her to attend the seminars.