Matt's Family. Lynnette Kent

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Matt's Family - Lynnette Kent Mills & Boon Vintage Superromance

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try to find our way to Fredericksburg.”

      Matt yawned and slouched down in the seat. “I vote we just get some sleep and wait for daybreak. Okay with you?”

      She snuggled under his arm and rested her head on his chest. “That’s fine. I could probably sleep until noon.” She rubbed her eyes with her free hand, then set it lightly on his belly. In another minute, Kristin was asleep.

      Matt dropped his head back and stared up at the ceiling of the van. He’d almost lost his temper—about sex, of all things. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t made love last night, or wouldn’t get another chance.

      But… A small voice in his head insisted on being heard.But what would be the problem with having another baby? What is she afraid of?

      He closed his eyes. Did Kris worry that he’d disappear again, leaving her with three children to care for on her own?

      Or maybe the insomnia, the distraction, the sadness, was a hint that Kristin wasn’t sure she would stay.

      No way should they create a child, only to get a divorce. Their lives were messy enough already.

      A divorce. This was the first time he’d let the word into his mind. Did Kris want one?

      Do I? he asked himself.

      Kristin cuddled a little closer, and he tightened his arm. God, no. He didn’t want a divorce. This woman was all he’d thought about for five years. Every day he’d imagined her at home, at the grocery store, on the beach. He’d woven elaborate stories about Kristin’s days…and her nights. With him.

      Reality had been different. The Kristin he came back to was not the one he left, and she wasn’t the woman of his fantasies. Four years later, he was still coping with the changes.

      But Matt knew he wouldn’t—couldn’t—give her up.

      KRISTIN AWOKE the next morning with Matt’s kiss on her mouth. “Happy first anniversary, wife of mine.”

      She smiled and stretched, without opening her eyes. “Mmm. Are we having breakfast in bed?”

      He chuckled. “Sure. Just as soon as we see a fast-food drive-through.”

      She raised one eyelid to look at him. “That means getting up, doesn’t it?”

      “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for a walk in the woods.”

      “Oh.” She felt her face flush. “Me, too.”

      “And then,” he said as they climbed stiffly out of the van, “we can work on finding breakfast and Fredericksburg.”

      They reached their first important battlefield stop around 10 a.m. In the rain.

      Matt stared up through the windshield at the heavy gray sky. “This is not what I planned. Is anything on this trip going to go right?”

      Kristin didn’t have an answer, especially since she was the reason things hadn’t worked out last night. What a dumb move—forgetting her birth control. Even dumber, remembering at the wrong time and putting them both through the frustration of backing off.

      And Matt was right. They could have taken the risk. The “worst” that might happen would be a baby. With Erin and Jenny getting so grown-up and independent, Kristin ached for another tiny person to hold. And how wonderful it would be to introduce Matt to the joys of babyhood. He’d missed more than half of Erin’s childhood.

      “I really would like to walk around,” he said. “But you don’t have to come. I won’t take too long.”

      She glanced at dripping trees and sodden grass, thought about sitting alone in the car with just her fears to keep her company, then unbuckled her seat belt. “I think I’ll walk, too. What’s a little rain?”

      His grin warmed her inside. “Nothing at all. Let’s go!”

      They left the van near the visitors’ center, got maps and brochures and started walking.

      Matt obviously didn’t need to read the brochures.

      “This is the bloodiest land in the country. More than a hundred thousand men died here during four major battles of the Civil War.”

      Kristin gazed at him through the steady drizzle while he recalled for her the details of the war. His eyes had a faraway look, as if he’d stepped back in time to witness the very scene he described. She’d never known he had such passion for military history. They’d never had a chance to talk about it.

      They’d never talked about a lot of things.

      Ending his account, he stood silent for a moment, then glanced at her sideways with an embarrassed grin. “You should stop me when I get carried away. I could talk about this stuff forever.”

      “No, it’s okay.” Kristin put her hand on his arm. “I don’t think I paid enough attention in history class. Tell me more.”

      Matt closed her fingers inside his. “Woman, you’re in trouble now.”

      The rain stopped before lunch, though the day remained cloudy and damp. Matt refused to talk about the war after they ate. He insisted that Kristin explore each of the unique shops in the town’s central historic district instead, an offer she was quite willing to accept. They got back into the car late in the afternoon with presents for the girls and a pair of antique silver candlesticks for their dining-room table to mark their first year together.

      As the engine turned over, Kristin eased off her sneakers and rubbed her tired feet. “Where to now?”

      Matt just smiled. “That’s an anniversary surprise. You’ll find out.” Nothing she said convinced him to explain further. But in just under two hours, he stopped the van at the curb of a wide thoroughfare in downtown Washington, D.C.

      “The Willard Hotel,” Kristin read on the front of the imposing building. “Wow.”

      “When I planned the trip, I thought we deserved at least one night of real class. Considering last night spent in the car, I’m sure of it!”

      The next sixty minutes flew by in a whirl of activity. Kristin showered, fixed her hair and changed into the nice dress Matt had told her to bring. At eight o’clock, he escorted her into the marbled and gilded dining room of the Willard Hotel. They ate an elaborate meal on starched tablecloths and bone china place settings, shared a wonderful bottle of champagne in cut-crystal flutes, and indulged in the lightest possible conversation. Tonight, no controversy would be allowed.

      The room spun pleasantly around Kristin’s head as they left their table. “I’m glad we don’t have to drive a car to get home.”

      “Just the elevator.” Matt steered her down the hallway. “I think I can handle that.”

      The lights in their room were dim and the bed turned down, with chocolates resting on the pillows. Kristin slipped off her high-heeled shoes. “This is really wonderful, Matt. I’ve never stayed anywhere so elegant. Thank you.”

      “My pleasure.” He switched on the radio, and soft music floated into the room. “Would

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