Ultimate Cedar Cove Collection (Books 1-12 & 2 Novellas). Debbie Macomber

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      He opened his eyes when she walked in.

      “She’s asleep,” Maryellen whispered, hardly able to believe it. His arms must be aching from holding Katie so long. She reached for the infant, and as soon as she held her, Maryellen realized Katie was in a deep sleep.

      “She seems to be over the worst of it,” Jon said, following Maryellen into the baby’s room.

      “I hope so.” Ever so gently, she placed her in the crib. When Katie turned onto her side, Maryellen pressed one hand to her daughter’s back. Heat no longer radiated from the small body. “The fever’s broken,” she whispered, covering her with a light blanket.

      “What time is it?” Jon asked outside Katie’s room.

      “Five-thirty,” she told him. “Stay,” she urged. He looked as tired as she’d felt a few hours earlier.

      Jon rubbed his face with both hands and yawned. “I’ll take the sofa.”

      “That thing is short and lumpy. You’ll be miserable.”

      His eyes held hers.

      “We can share my bed,” she said in an offhand manner, as though his spending the night was a normal occurrence. She might have sounded calm and casual, but her heart was pounding.

      Jon continued to gaze at her, apparently not sure he’d heard her correctly.

      “I’ll stay on my side of the bed and you stay on yours,” she added matter-of-factly. She wasn’t asking him to make love to her, if that was what he thought. Without waiting for an answer, she moved silently into the darkened room.

      Jon still hesitated.

      “Those three hours are the most sleep I’ve had in two nights,” she said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “You make your own decision, but I’m going back to sleep.” She lay down and kept her back to him. Eyes closed, she pulled the covers around her shoulders.

      A minute later, the mattress on the other side of the bed shifted under his weight. “I’ll sleep on top of the covers,” he whispered. “So you won’t worry about me touching you.”

      As if she’d mind! Maryellen didn’t respond, pretending she was already asleep. It wasn’t long before she heard the steady rhythm of his breathing and knew he’d drifted off.

      Sometime later, when Maryellen woke, her bedroom was filled with light. Jon blocked her view of the clock-radio so she couldn’t see the time. She lifted her head from the pillow in order to look past him. The clock told her it was almost eight. At her movement, Jon’s eyes slowly opened.

      “Sorry,” she whispered, and laid her head back on the pillow. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

      “I slept,” he said incredulously.

      “So did Katie.” They stared at each other; neither seemed capable of moving. They’d only spent one night together, the night she’d conceived Katie, and that seemed a lifetime ago now. Maryellen had made so many mistakes in this relationship. But he’d proved to be a wonderful father to Katie and an invaluable help to Maryellen.

      They’d kissed several times, and with those kisses she’d tried to tell him how much she’d learned to appreciate him—and, yes, love him—but in each instance, she’d come away hurt and disappointed. She so badly wanted to kiss him now….

      “Jon.” Her voice was the slightest whisper.

      “Shh.” He moved his head closer to hers and she slowly edged toward him.

      Soon their lips met in a soft kiss. After a moment, Jon reluctantly eased his mouth from hers. He gazed at her, eyes narrowed, as if he wasn’t sure he should continue. As if he sought her permission…

      Maryellen brought her lips back to his. She’d practically thrown herself at him after Christmas, and he’d rejected her. Her heart would break if he spurned her again.

      She needn’t have worried. They kissed a second time, their mouths straining while they tore at each other’s clothes. Maryellen’s nightgown was easy to slip off. Jon, however, had remained fully clothed. While he unbuttoned his shirt, Maryellen heard Katie in the other room.

      Jon froze.

      Maryellen, too. “I’ll see if I can get her back to sleep.” Sometimes, if she gave Katie her pacifier, the baby would sleep for a few more minutes. Maryellen prayed she could convince their daughter to give her parents this rare opportunity.

      As quickly and quietly as possible, Maryellen threw on her nightgown and tiptoed into Katie’s room. Sure enough, as soon as she had her pacifier, Katie closed her eyes. Maryellen remained by her side and patted her back. All the while, she prayed the mood between her and Jon hadn’t been destroyed. She so badly wanted to make love with him.

      When she returned to the bedroom, Maryellen knew it was too late. Jon sat on the side of the bed, his back rigid as he faced the wall.

      “Katie’s asleep,” she whispered.

      He didn’t respond.

      Kneeling on the bed, she moved behind him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She kissed his neck, then ran her tongue over his earlobe and felt a shiver race through him.

      Jon took her hand and kissed her palm. “It’s a good thing Katie woke up when she did.”

      “She’s asleep, Jon,” Maryellen said.

      “It isn’t a good idea for us to get involved sexually,” he whispered. He got up abruptly and turned to face her.

      Maryellen sank back on her heels, humiliated beyond words by his rejection.

      “It would be the easiest thing in the world to make love to you now, but I’m not going to do it. The truth is, I don’t trust you. You’ve lied to me once. You tried to keep my daughter from me—”

      “That was before—”

      “Before what?” he demanded.

      Before I realized I could trust you, before I realized I love you. But she dared not tell him that.

      “I explained why I behaved the way I did,” she said, and kept her head lowered, unable to meet his gaze. “I was as honest as I knew how to be.”

      He didn’t say anything for a long moment. “I want to be honest with you, too, Maryellen.” His voice throbbed with sincerity.

      Hope flared in her and she raised her eyes. He stood with his fists clenched at his sides, his face hard. “I don’t trust you—or myself. I can’t.”

      “Why can’t you?” she pleaded. She could see the war that raged inside him. He longed to trust her, yearned to release the burden that weighed him down. She wondered why this burden, whatever it was, hadn’t troubled him a year earlier, when he’d made love to her. The reason suddenly occurred to her.

      “Jon,” she whispered, and somehow managed to blurt out the question. “Are you married?”

      “Is

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