A Baby by Christmas

“Jake, is that you?”

“Yes,” he shouted from the kitchen.

“I’m in the bedroom.”

Where else would she be? he thought with resignation. He made his way to the living room and paused for a moment. The room was completely white with touches of silver and mauve. There wasn’t a comfortable chair anywhere, and after a long day he needed a place to relax other than the bedroom. Everything in there was white, too, but he had ways of blocking it out. Why he’d let Elise convince him to live here he had no idea. She could make him do the impossible, though, even live in the city among these houses all crowded together. He was beginning to think she had him under a spell, because he wasn’t acting like himself.

He needed to tell her how he felt.

ELISE WEBER MCCAIN SLIPPED out of her suit and under-clothes and reached for a silk robe. She didn’t bother with a gown. She didn’t need one—all she needed was Jake and his sperm. They’d been married for six months and they were trying for a baby. That was the reason they’d gotten married; they were two people who wanted the same thing—a child.

At thirty-five, Elise had been certain she’d never fall in love again. Ten years ago, after a year of marriage, she’d lost the love of her life, Derek Weber, in a plane crash. Heartbroken, she sank into depression, then eventually picked herself up and went back to school and got her Ph.D. Now she was a professor of American literature and had the respect of her peers. In her professional life everything was perfect, but her personal life had been nonexistent—until she met Jake.

It had happened unexpectedly. She was traveling home to Waco, Texas, from a lecture at Rice University when she got a flat tire between Marlin and Waco. It was almost dark and she was in the middle of nowhere. She’d taken out her cell phone to call for assistance when a truck pulled up. She was nervous about a stranger stopping to help her, but as soon as the man, who was tall with strong, chiseled features, introduced himself, her fears vanished. She was acquainted with Jake’s mother and his brothers and stepfather. They belonged to the same country club as Elise and her family, and Elise had heard of Jake’s estrangement from his mother. Althea had left her husband for another man; her ten-year-old son, Jake, wouldn’t go with her, so he’d stayed with his father. After that, Althea had had little contact with Jake and Elise knew that troubled her a great deal. She’d heard Althea talk about him for years and it was an odd twist of fate that he’d stopped to help her…or maybe it was meant to be.

Elise didn’t find Jake’s brothers as interesting as Jake. He was kind, honest, forthright. Not that his brothers weren’t, but with Jake it was different. She couldn’t explain it. She was only aware that she felt drawn to him in a way she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

When she’d tried to pay him for fixing her flat, he’d refused. The next week she’d phoned and invited him to dinner as a thank you. Why she’d done that, she had no idea. Asking a man out was so unlike her, but she’d wanted him to know how much she’d appreciated his kindness. To her delight, he accepted.

Her mother and sister were appalled at her actions. They’d told her Jake McCain wasn’t their kind and that Althea’s other sons were more suitable. She’d ignored them. Her mother and sister were snobs and she’d struggled with their attitudes all her life.

Elise had enjoyed that first date. They’d discussed all kinds of things and Elise learned a lot about Jake McCain. He ran the McCain farm, which extended along the Brazos River Bottom from parts of Highbank and Marlin to Waco, and raised cotton and corn like his father, who expected Jake to follow in his footsteps. He’d added that he’d farmed all his life.

When she’d told him she knew his brothers, Beau and Caleb, he wasn’t surprised, but he was quick to remind her that Caleb was his half brother and he’d never met him. That made her so sad, and even sadder when he wouldn’t talk about his mother. The subject was clearly off limits.

That was one small thing that bothered her about Jake. Everything else she liked. He was easy to be with and he listened with such compassion. He made her feel as if her problems were important, and she’d found herself telling him about her marriage, how much she’d loved her husband and how her whole world had come apart the day he died. She also told him she wanted a baby—she couldn’t believe she’d brought that up. She and Derek had planned a family, but after his death she’d pushed that idea to the back of her mind. As she grew older, though, she found herself thinking once again about having a baby.

Jake surprised her by saying he’d love a child, too. After a few dates and several conversations on the subject, she was asking him to marry her. Just like that, out of the blue, no second thoughts. He was shocked, understandably so. But they both wanted the same thing very badly. Even though they weren’t in love, the arrangement seemed perfect.

When he agreed, she was thrilled. Her mother and sister told her she was losing her mind and obsessed with having a baby. They begged her to take some time, but as usual she’d ignored them and married Jake, anyway. They were married by a justice of the peace and spent their honeymoon at her house—in her bed. Jake was everything she wanted in a lover, in a husband.

She glanced at the full bed with its lacy white comforter and bed skirt. Their first night she’d been so nervous, but she and Jake were very compatible in that area and she’d responded to him in ways that surprised her. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t warm, tantalizing kisses that drove her to a frenzied state. Jake’s touch brought out her sensual, passionate nature, and sometimes it made her angry, because she always believed that part of her belonged to Derek. But she had to admit when she was with Jake, she never thought of Derek. Jake became her main focus…and she was uncertain how she felt about that.

JAKE MOVED TOWARD THE BEDROOM. He had to see her, then he’d forget about his negative feelings. That was the way it was with him: one look at her and nothing else mattered. She folded the comforter, looked up and smiled. She was beautiful with her slim, curved body and patrician features, but it was those soft, inviting blue eyes that always pulled him in. The natural blond hair didn’t hurt, either. His bad mood evaporated.

“Hi.” She continued to smile.

He clenched his jaw and pushed attraction for her aside. He had to talk to her, make her understand that he wasn’t a puppet on a string.

“I’m in the middle of harvesting a cotton crop and that makes it rather difficult to drop everything and hurry over here,” he said in a rush.

She placed the comforter on a chair and tucked her hair back behind her ears. It was medium-length and hung like a bell around her face. “You should’ve said you were busy.”

“Yes, I…should…have.” His words got slower and slower as he glimpsed her body through the opening of her robe. He wanted her. It was that simple, that basic. It had been like that since he’d met her. Regardless of how irritated and frustrated he felt, it still didn’t change the effect she had on him.

She stood in front of him and began to unbutton his shirt. “I’m sorry I interrupted you, but according to my calculations this is the perfect time, and I thought we could spend the afternoon making our dream a reality. Pregnant by Christmas, isn’t that our goal?”

“Elise…” he began, then forgot what he was going to say as she ran her hands across his chest, lightly, provocatively, then tasted the warmth of his skin with her lips. Desire ripped through him and his breathing became labored. She unbuckled his belt, stepped backward and guided him toward the bed. All the words he’d planned to say went right out of his head. Elise, her allure, encompassed every part of him.

He quickly slipped out of his clothes. He’d left his boots in the garage by the door—afraid of getting something dirty. Another thing he was tired of doing—but he never grew tired of this. His arms circled her small waist and he drew her against him, skin against skin, his lips taking hers in an urgent, hungry kiss.

Her soft curves melted into him as he placed her on the bed. His lips and hands found those curves with eagerness and he soared with all the emotions she brought to life in him.

“This is the right day,” she breathed against his lips.

“We’ve been trying for six months, but this has to be our time.”

“Shh,” he said in a ragged tone, his lips trailing to her neck. She liked to talk about getting pregnant when they were making love. He didn’t.

“I should’ve been pregnant by now, Jake. I want to be pregnant.”

“Shh,” he said again, kissing her mouth. That was the only way to keep her from talking and he needed to taste, to feel every nuance of her. His body moved to cover hers and nothing else was said for some time.

Afterward Jake tried to move away, but Elise held him tight. “No, don’t,” she said, her legs and arms like a vise around him. “I read that if a man stays inside longer the sperm has more of a chance.”

Jake groaned and buried his face in her damp neck. That was all she thought about—having a baby—and there was a stack of books on conception by the bed. She was obsessed with the idea, and he couldn’t make her see that they had to let it happen naturally.

After a moment Jake rolled to the side and Elise turned around and placed her legs on the headboard and shoved a pillow beneath her hips.

“What are you doing?” he asked out of curiosity, but he should have known better.

“I also read that if a woman holds her legs in an upward position, it gives the sperm a much better chance of reaching the egg.”

He shook his head and got up, then found his scattered clothes on the floor and began to put them on.

“Jake, please don’t dress. We need to have sex again in a little while. We have to make sure.”

He stopped in the process of buttoning his shirt. Sex. That was what they were having. Love had nothing to do with it. Was that what bothered him? He caught sight of the picture on the nightstand—Derek Weber, Elise’s dead husband. That bothered him even more. Elise didn’t need Jake McCain; any man would have done. He’d just been crazy enough to go along with her wishes. That was the crux of his irritation. He didn’t like being used, but that was the way he’d begun to feel.

“I’m not a machine,” he muttered.

She turned so she could see him. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes.”

“If you have to get back to the farm, we can try tonight.”

God, the woman had a one-track mind, and he wondered if she even saw him as a person. Was he nothing more than a sperm bank?

“Elise…” The doorbell interrupted him. He looked at her. “Are you expecting anyone?”

“No, I…oh, I forgot. A woman phoned earlier. A Ms. Woods. She said she had to speak with you and that she’d be by later.”

“I don’t know any Ms. Woods. Did she say what she wanted?” He couldn’t imagine why anyone would try to reach him at Elise’s. Everyone called him at the farm. He only slept here—and had sex.

“She said that your aunt had given her this number and it was important.”

That explained it. It was probably some minor farm business Aunt Vin didn’t know how to handle. The doorbell rang again as he stuffed his shirt into his jeans. His boots were in the garage so he’d have to answer the door barefoot. He hurried to the foyer.