"Things like making-up sex. Morning sex."
She gave him the smile he needed. "After-dinner sex."
"Welcome-home sex."
Their eyes met, and his last homecoming—the one that had prompted her to walk out on him—slid right between them like a slippery rogue ice cube. Gray's smile faded. He tunneled his hand deeper into her hair, looping it around his wrist until she couldn't look anywhere but into his eyes.
"Lori, I missed you so damned much during that England deployment." His grip tightened, almost painfully. "For years I'd razzed the guys who called home to their wives instead of going out. I was in England, for crying out loud, and the most sight-seeing I managed was from inside those red telephone booths. Then I found myself skipping out on a trip to a pub because I wanted to call you. Hell, I had to call you."
She caressed his bristly face. "Those calls meant a lot to me."
"I know."
He untwined her hair with slow, sensual deliberation, trailing the strands down his arm and through his lingers. "The minute the plane landed in Charleston, I blew off debrief with a lame excuse and met you at my place that night like we'd planned."
They'd been so hot for each other, only to discover Lori had forgotten her pill the morning before. Gray had insisted it wasn't worth the risk, and neither of them had back-up birth control. They'd sprinted for his car in a tangle of arms, legs and laughter ready to scout out an all night supermarket, and he'd found…
Gray winced against her. "You had planted flowers."
"Flowers?"
"Yeah. Don't you remember? While I was gone, you planted those yellow and purplish little flowers in pots in front of my apartment. I missed them when I ran inside in the dark. Other things on my mind at that moment. But when we stepped back out and the porch light zeroed right in on those homey flowers…"
Lori couldn't decide whether to cry or slug him. She'd attached so many hopes to those flowers, certain that if she worked hard enough, made his home life perfect enough he would stay. And she'd only sent him running. "Imagine that. The mighty warrior downed by a flat of pansies."
"Pitiful."
The rest unfolded with a clarity that had eluded her for a year. "So you asked me to move in with you, knowing full well I wanted a ring. You knew I would bolt." Lori had turned him down flat, and he'd stormed out. She'd called a cab and left before he returned. "Do you ever wonder what would have happened if you'd had an extra condom lying around and hadn't found those flowers until the next morning?"
The drifting wind carried his dark laugh over her. "More than once. One condom, and things might—"
A condom.
Lori jackknifed up and looked down into Gray's horrorstruck eyes. How could she have forgotten? The rumpled quilt mocked her with memories of their uninhibited lovemaking.
Unprotected lovemaking.
Icy whispers from a year ago teased over her. The lack of a single condom had once again launched her life into chaos. And this time she couldn't run away.
Chapter 15
No condom. Gray looked up into Lori's horror-struck eyes.
How could he have been so reckless? He even carried one in his wallet that he'd bought after his and Lori's near miss a week ago. Other than that brief, almost encounter with her, he had never lost control. Never. He thrived on control and structure, one of the aspects he liked and needed most in his job.
An hour with Lori had him losing sight of that, and it scared the hell out of him.
She drew her knees to her chest, her dress shrouding her legs. "So much for our talk."
He stared at Lori, a normal occurrence for him, and couldn't help but notice how totally alone she looked. How strange, since he usually thought of her as so competent, in charge, strong.
The moonlight caressing her face, she flipped her whiskey-brown hair over her shoulder. Her dress flowed around her gentle curves without a wrinkle to hint at the wild abandon she'd indulged in only moments before. Lori rarely lost her cool. Except for those moments when her incredible legs had been wrapped around his waist and—
Don't go there, pal. He zipped his pants and reminded himself to start thinking with his brain again. There could be very real—tiny, living consequences from their slip.
He knew she could succeed no matter what life brought her way. But she damn well wouldn't be facing it alone if she was carrying his child. "I'll make it right. Whatever happens, I don't walk out on my responsibilities."
"Be still my heart." Sarcasm dripped from her words like the Spanish moss draping the branches overhead.