Marie Ferrarella - A Baby Changes Everything

Yearning seized him the way it hadn’t for a long time. But even as he lowered his mouth to hers, Cruz suddenly stopped himself and looked around uneasily.

“What’s wrong?” Didn’t he want her anymore? The question feverishly throbbed in her head, ushering fear in its wake.

“Honey, what if Luke walks in on us?”

She offered up a silent prayer of thanks. He did want her, he was just being a good father. Her mouth softened into a smile. “Then I’d ask him what a five-year-old was doing walking all the way over from the other side of Red Rock.”

Cruz’s brows knitted together in a confused line. “I don’t—”

Poor darling, he really was tired, not to immediately make the connection.

But not so tired that she hadn’t gotten to him, Savannah congratulated herself. She could feel his body hardening. Wanting her. At least she still appealed to him, she thought with not a little relief. She’d begun to have her doubts.

“Our son is staying at your parents’ house tonight, bless them. Your dad came by earlier today to pick him up.”

Cruz stiffened slightly. “You told them you were doing this?”

She knew what a private man her husband had turned out to be, even about something as natural as this. She framed her words carefully. “I told them we needed some time alone together. Maybe they think we’re painting the baby’s room.”

Cruz laughed and shook his head, relaxing. “My parents are not dumb people.”

No, they were smart beyond books and very in tune to what was happening around them. She’d seen more than one display of affection between her in-laws. Not like with her own parents. All the years she’d spent growing up, she had never witnessed so much as a chaste kiss between the two. The only thing that had ever been remotely hot had been the words they had thrown at each other.

“Maybe that’s why your parents have such a long, healthy marriage.”

Cruz took her into his arms, toying with the tendrils of hair along her neck. How long had it been since he’d seen her like this? Soft, relaxed, stirring. “You saying our marriage isn’t healthy?”

It wasn’t terminal, Savannah thought, but it certainly was ill. Using humor, she allowed snippets of honesty to come through.

“I’m saying it’s in danger of having rigor mortis set in.” Savannah wiggled against him, deliberately tempting him. “Use it or lose it. The way I see it—” she let her eyes dip down his torso “—all the parts are still under original warranty.”

“Okay, let’s see what we can do about wearing out a few of those parts.” Cupping her face, Cruz lowered his mouth to hers. He was utterly surprised when, instead of kissing him, Savannah moved back and took a few steps away from him. Confused, he stared at her. “Now what?”

Savannah nodded toward the dining room behind her. “We eat first.”

“Eat?” He said the word as if he didn’t fully fathom what it meant.

Turning on her heel, she began to lead the way. “I made all your favorites—”

Cruz caught her hand, turning her around again until she faced him. “Good, then let me start by sampling my very favorite.” He kissed her shoulder, causing the butterflies that had been in her stomach to spread their wings and take to the air.

Her very skin was sizzling.

It was working.

He was beginning to sound the way he had when she’d first met him. When she’d first married him. He’d been sexier than hell back then. All she wanted was to have him back, and now here he was.

She moved out of his reach again. “I want to draw this out, make it last.”

He winked at her, that grin she loved so much curving his mouth. “I’ll do my very best.”

A laugh bubbled up in her throat. “I meant by eating dinner first.” As if to mark his place for him, Savannah leaned into Cruz and lightly brushed her lips against his. When he started to kiss her, she pulled back. “Dessert will be served upstairs.”

Cruz caught her in his arms and kissed her, his mouth hard against hers. The kiss made her melt. Made her body temperature rise several degrees in wild anticipation of what was to come.

They hadn’t made love in so long, she’d lost count of the days. Of the weeks.

She could feel her body rejoicing.

Savannah wound her arms around his neck, cleaving to the warmth of him, losing herself in the mind-spinning effect that his mouth had always had on her. To hell with her carefully laid plans; she was seizing the moment.

And then she felt his hands on her shoulders, moving her back.

Stunned, dazed, she all but stumbled backward. It took her a second to focus on his face.

Cruz smiled, pleased at what he saw. Two could play the game she’d come up with, and maybe she had something there at that. Maybe making her the slightest bit unattainable did heighten the stakes, did increase the anticipation rather than simply gratifying himself instantly.

He was willing to go along with that, even though, when he’d walked into the house, he’d been more tired than an eagle after a three-day, nonstop flight.

He loved seeing the effect of his kiss on her, loved seeing how her lips were pink and slightly swollen. “Consider that a retainer.”

It took Savannah a moment to process his words. And then she laughed. “I want payment in full, the second we cross that threshold.”

He gave her a quick, two-finger salute. “Consider it done.”

As he walked with her into the dining room, Cruz placed his hand on her hip, silently reaffirming not just the emotional but the physical bond that existed between them.

About to sit down, he stopped himself at the last moment and went to help Savannah with her chair. Her surprised look melted into a pleased one, making the extra effort worth it.

When had all the niceties eroded between them? Had they been erased by the comfort of familiarity, or had he and his wife just become too tired to care?

This was better, he thought.

“Everything smells good,” he stated as he sat down. “Especially you.”

There was hope, she told herself, pleased that she’d thought to do this. Pleased with his response. She’d begun to think that maybe they had gotten beyond salvaging. That they’d become an old married couple years before their time, taking each other for granted and just existing side by side instead of actually living each moment fully the way they had when they’d first gotten married.

“Thank you,” she murmured. Pleasure brought color to her cheeks. She could feel it spreading.

Cruz flashed her an apologetic smile as he helped himself to the burritos rancheros Savannah had carefully arranged in the serving dish. They were smothered in sour cream and guacamole sauce. He took a good portion of each.

“I’m afraid I smell a little ripe.”

She grinned. That had never bothered her about him. “I don’t mind a little perspiration,” she told him. “On you, it’s a very manly smell.”

He put the spatula back in the dish. “You’re easy to please.”

Her eyes met his. God, but she loved this man. “In some ways,” she agreed, then felt compelled to add, “in others, not so easy.”

There was chilled wine waiting on his pleasure. He took only a little, feeling bad that she couldn’t have any. The wine felt good as it slid down his throat, enhancing the mood.

“Is that a riddle?” he asked, setting his glass down.

“You can work it out later.” Her voice was low, husky, full of promise.

To his surprise, Cruz felt himself getting excited again.

He found himself hurrying through the meal, barely aware of what he was eating, only that it was tasty. His plate was cleaned within fifteen minutes of sitting down at the table, the contents washed down by a little more wine.