as dark as the charred wood.
She couldn’t help but revel in the appreciation in his gaze. What pregnant woman wouldn’t be happy to feel desirable and sexy? “So sharp my bookkeeper is enjoying all my profits on some island retreat.”
She took a bite of her s’more, her tongue chasing every drizzle. Was that moan from her or from Jason?
“Crap like that happens.You’re recovering.” He shifted on the blanket, adjusting his jeans covertly. Well, almost covertly, except she couldn’t miss the growing bulge pressing at his fly. An answering heat flamed inside her.
At least until her thoughts went back to her mom.
“I just question myself at times like this, examine every move I made for mistakes, carelessness. Lack of focus.” She set her s’more back on the plate. The fun of the evening faded. “What about your parents? Have you called them yet?”
“I don’t speak to my folks.” He turned back to the grocery sack, preparing a second graham-cracker treat for the fire.
“That’s sad.”
“Why would you think that’s sad? Wouldn’t you be glad to dodge those judgmental confrontations with your mom?”
As much as her mother frustrated her, even hurt her sometimes, she couldn’t imagine cutting her mom completely out of her life. What had driven such a wedge between Jason and his family?
“She’s still my mother.” Although she had to admit the extra distance between them California provided eased some of the pressure.
“You’re mighty forgiving—except when it comes to me, of course.”
Thinking back to her scene in his office, she winced. “I thought you said you hadn’t done anything wrong with Celia.”
“I was talking about the way I handled the whole after-sex issue four months ago.” He shoved aside the cooking gear and moved closer to her. “I should have missed the damn flight and stayed to talk to you.”
“I told you to leave.”
He stroked back her hair, his knuckles leaving a tingling path on her cheek. “And I should have asked if you meant it.”
“At the time, yes.” She’d been terrified of how out of control she’d felt in his arms, so much so she’d shown him the door as fast as she could. She’d thought at the time he felt the same way.
How they’d both only been able to let down barriers with each other when they had the assurance he would be leaving.
“What about now, Lauren?”
No chance of booting him out of her life again. “We’re connected forever through the baby.”
The air between them grew thick, the scent of him and the fire, the intimacy of the conversation all too much. She craved air. Now.
Arching back, she reached into the pocket of her robe and pulled out a copy of the ultrasound image. “I brought something to show you.”
His eyes went wide, awe wide, as he glanced back up at her, then down at the picture again. “That’s our baby?”
She nodded, determined not to let tears clog her throat. She could win this one battle over her damn hormones. The miracle of seeing the ultrasound for the first time washed over her again.
His thumb worked along the edge. “Do you know if it’s a boy or girl?”
“They couldn’t tell. The baby played shy, but the doctor said if they do an ultrasound later, they can look again. Do you want to know?”
“I’m fine either way.” He looked her in the eye, his full attention a heady aphrodisiac. “I just need to know that you’re both healthy.”
His hand slid along her waist, rubbing the small of her back, soothing the ever-present ache, his touch and thoughtfulness stirring another ache altogether. Fire kindling inside her, spreading, she rocked forward. Everything he said and did tonight made her question her decision to stay in New York, made her want to throw away all she’d worked for just for a chance with him….
She snapped upright again and scavenged for the tattered remnants of her control. “The baby and I are both fine. There’s nothing for you to worry about.” Snatching up her s’more, she shot to her feet. “Thanks again for the dessert and the picnic, but I need to go to sleep.”
He let her go with a low laugh that followed her all the way up the stairs. Damn him for being absolutely perfect tonight, enticing her with visions of what they could have together if she stayed in San Francisco. She stomped up the last two steps, not that it helped release the tension coiled inside her.
There was only one way to work that out of her system. She just didn’t know if she was brave enough to risk taking it—taking Jason.
Rosa Lounge wasn’t at all what she anticipated.
She’d known ahead of time it was a martini bar, but she’d expected something along the line of New York high brow. Instead, she’d walked into San Francisco retro funk.
Loud music reverberated.
Pink lighting cast a hazy glow.
Black and white accents added a crisp edge.
The artist in her lapped up the visual contrasts.
And the food was to die for. She dipped an oozing grilled-cheese triangle into a cup of tomato soup. Her nausea a thing of the past, it seemed her appetite was making up for lost time. She nibbled a bite. Ah-mazing. Still, nothing beat Godiva s’mores with Jason.
Nothing about this time in San Francisco was turn-ing out the way she expected. Did she dare risk more surprises by launching into an affair with Jason? The thought felt big and scary, so damn silly, really, when she already carried his baby. But there it was and she didn’t know how to get past the hurdle to take what she wanted.
A light hand on her shoulder pulled her out of her reverie. Lauren turned quickly. “Yes?”
“Hello, we didn’t get to speak earlier.” A slim woman with dark brown hair clamped back unpretentiously thrust out her hand. “I’m Elle Linton, Brock’s assistant.”
“Lauren Presley… uh, Reagert. I’m still getting used to the new name.”
“Of course.” Elle smiled with understanding. “Elopements give you a little less time to get used to the changes coming up.”
An elopement that came about in a very public and embarrassing fashion, thanks to her anger. Lauren looked across the bar and sure enough, Celia still stayed well clear of her on the other side at one of the tall tables.
Lauren turned back to Brock’s assistant. “Jason and I have known each other for over a year.”
“I’m sorry if my comments came out wrong. I
