Expecting Thunder's Baby. Sheri WhiteFeather

parents’ house, smarty.”

      “I don’t want to bump into your current lover in California, Thunder. I don’t want to get into a catfight with some jealous blonde.”

      He couldn’t help but smile. “Does that mean you’re coming home with me?”

      “No. It just means that I’m assessing the situation.”

      His smile fell. “There isn’t anyone who’s going to be jealous. I’ve never been involved with a woman who’s cared about me that much.” He paused, reached out to touch her, to brush his knuckles along her jaw. “No one but you.”

      “And look what happened.” She covered his hand with hers. “We lost everything.”

      “But we’re keeping it light this time. We’re embarking on friendship.”

      “And sex, if you get your way.”

      “Sex doesn’t have to be complicated.” He leaned in to kiss her, to taste what he’d been missing, but she slipped away.

      Leaving him hanging, waiting and wondering what her final answer would be.

      Three

      “You’re supposed to talk me out of this,” Carrie said to her mom.

      Daisy shook her head. She was sitting on Carrie’s sofa and was wearing pleated pants and a short-sleeved top. Her makeup had been carefully applied and her chestnut-brown hair was coiffed just so, courtesy of the beauty salon she’d been patronizing for over twenty years.

      “It’s just a vacation,” Daisy said.

      “With my ex-husband.” Carrie was too edgy to sit. She stood beside the gas fireplace she rarely used. The brick mantel was empty—no knickknacks, no family photos—a reminder that she was a longtime divorcée with no children.

      “It’s a bit late for this conversation.” Daisy sipped a glass of instant lemonade. “You already told Thunder that you’d go with him.”

      And now she was a nervous wreck, wondering what she’d got herself into. “He wasn’t supposed to come back into my life.”

      “But he did, and you’re swayed by him. If you don’t do this, you’ll regret it.”

      “You’re swayed by him, too.” Frustrated, Carrie glanced at her fingernails, where she’d picked at the week-old polish. “You’re taking his side.”

      When the older woman set her drink on the coffee table, her hand lingered, showcasing a manicure that was fresh and glossy. “He loved you, honey. You know he did.”

      Carrie’s heart lurched. “He never even said it.”

      “But you know it’s true. You know how much he cared.”

      “But I wanted him to say it.”

      “So tell him that. Tell him how you feel.”

      “After all this time?”

      “Why not?” Daisy asked. “Besides, I think he still loves you.”

      Good grief. She looked at the woman who’d given her life. “You only see what you want to see.”

      “Thunder’s mother sees it, too. Margaret told me that her son has been lonely without you.”

      “Lonely?” Carrie snorted. “When? In between all of his affairs?”

      “Margaret thinks he does that to keep his mind off you.”

      “Right. Twenty years of playing around to make up for a short-lived marriage with me. He may have done that in the beginning, but somewhere along the way he started to enjoy that lifestyle.”

      “And now he wants to spend time with you.” Daisy stood up. “Just go to California, honey. Give him a chance.”

      Carrie sighed. Arguing with her mother was pointless. “It doesn’t hurt that he lives at the beach.”

      “Or that he still loves you.”

      “Give it a rest, Mom.”

      “Well, he does.” Daisy flashed a matchmaker’s smile, then went into the kitchen to put her glass in the sink.

      Five minutes later, she left the condo, waving to her daughter. Carrie stood at the doorway and watched her go.

      And that was when Thunder showed up and ran into Daisy. He greeted her on the walkway, exchanging friendly words and giving her a heartfelt hug.

      After the older woman departed, he headed for Carrie’s condo. She still stood in the doorway, and when he noticed her, her pulse skittered.

      “What are you doing here?” she asked.

      “I’m making sure you don’t change your mind.”

      “I almost did.”

      He moved closer, then stopped in front of her, making her much too aware of the words he’d never spoken, the love he’d never confessed.

      “I figured you’d try to bail out,” he said.

      “My mom was supposed to talk me out of going with you.”

      “Fat chance of that.” He nudged her inside. “She wants us to get back together.”

      Carrie frowned at him. “She told you that?”

      “No. But it’s obvious. With my mom, too.” He took her hand and led her toward the stairs. “Let’s go to your room. To get you packed,” he added, before she could pull away from him.

      “Are you this aggressive with the other women in your life?” By now, she was going upstairs with him, letting him call the shots and hating herself for it.

      “You’re the only one who’s ever been difficult.” They reached her room, and he studied her unmade bed. “But it’s okay. I like the challenge.”

      “Good thing.” She finally pulled away from him. “Because I intend to keep you at arm’s length.”

      “Does that mean you’re not going to sleep with me?”

      “Afraid so.” She opened the closet and removed her suitcase. Packing made sense, considering they were driving to California tomorrow.

      “Then we’ll focus on being friends.” He sent her a bad-boy grin. “While I’m trying to seduce you.”

      Carrie knew she was doomed. That sooner or later, she would end up in his bed, hot and hungry and stupidly naked. But she wasn’t about to admit it, at least not out loud. “I’m tougher than I look, Thunder.”

      “I’m aware of how tough you are.” His grin faded. “I’ve got the divorce decree to prove it.”

      She unzipped her suitcase and flung it open. “Literally or figuratively?”

      “Literally. I kept the blasted thing as a reminder to never get married again.”

      “Me, too.” It was in a safe-deposit box with other legal documents.

      “We’re quite a pair.” He got nosy and looked through her closet, checking out her clothes, sliding hangers across the rod. “Bring this.” He grabbed a black cocktail dress. “And this.” A white suit with a glittery camisole attached. “For when we go someplace nice.”

      “You’re going to wine and dine me?”

      “It’s part of the seduction.” He tossed the fancy garments onto her bed. “Bring some slinky underwear, too. And a push-up bra if you have one. I like those lift-and-separate contraptions.”

      “Too bad.” She went to her dresser, removing basic bras and prim cotton panties. “I’m not playing along with your seduction.”

      “Spoilsport.”