Cranberry Point (Cedar Cove #4)(59)
"I think I will go to bed early tonight," Maryellen said and placed Katie in her crib. She covered her with a light blanket, waiting to be sure their little girl was truly asleep before she silently left the room.
Jon took the empty bottle downstairs while Maryellen ran hot water into the tub. She scented it with lavender salts, then got in and sank into the soothing bath.
Her decision was made. She had no choice. She'd answer Joseph Bowman's letter the next day and tell him he was asking the impossible of her. She'd mail photos of Katie from time to time and keep his parents updated, but that was all she could promise. She'd also ask them not to contact her again.
The water had cooled by the time Maryellen stepped out of the tub. She dressed in a cotton nightie and a short robe. Jon was watching television and she sat on the sofa beside him, nestling gratefully in his arms.
"Feel better?" he asked, kissing the top of her head.
"Yes."
"Good."
"Remember what you were saying earlier?" she murmured, tilting her head and kissing the side of his jaw.
"About what?"
"Me getting pregnant."
She felt his mouth relax into a smile. "I remember that quite distinctly."
Maryellen glanced toward the television. "How interested are you in that program?"
"I can catch a rerun." He used the remote to turn off the TV, then kissed her as if he'd been waiting all day for just this moment.
Maryellen entwined her arms around his neck and opened her mouth to his exploration. Jon moaned softly, sliding his hand inside the folds of her robe, and sought her breast. Between soft kisses intermingled with lengthier ones, Maryellen reached over to snap off the lamp. They stood and began to walk toward the stairs, but didn't make it to the first step before he gathered her close and kissed her once more.
"I don't think I'll ever get tired of making love to you." He kissed the vulnerable hollow of her throat.
"I should hope not." Maryellen laughed and, walking backward, advanced one step up from him, circling his ear with her tongue. Jon groaned and she moved up an additional step. He followed, his hand again seeking her br**sts. This time it was Maryellen who released a soft sigh of pleasure. If they didn't hurry up these stairs, they'd never make it to the bedroom.
As they kissed, Maryellen tore at his shirt while he removed her robe.
"Jon," she whispered, her voice thick with passion. They were halfway up the stairs, both partially undressed.
Still one step below her, he hugged her waist and buried his face between the fullness of her br**sts.
Maryellen could feel her knees weakening. Framing his face with both hands, she gazed directly into his eyes. "Come on. I think there's a more comfortable way of doing this. It's called a bed."
Jon grinned up at her and then, in one sweeping motion, he swung her into his arms and carried her up the remaining stairs. Giggling like teenagers, they fell onto the bed and into each other's embrace.
Twenty-Nine
"Who left the milk out overnight?" Bob demanded as Peggy walked into the kitchen early Tuesday morning.
Peggy poured coffee into her favorite mug. "Good morning to you too, sweetheart."
Bob scowled. "I ended up dumping the entire half gallon."
They both realized it could only have been Hannah. Peggy wished she knew what it was about the young woman that irritated her husband so much. Bob took offense at the slightest thing; the milk incident was a good example. Hannah had worked the late shift at the PancakePalace and returned to the house some time after Bob and Peggy were asleep. Apparently she'd decided to drink a glass of milk before going to bed and forgotten to put the carton back in the refrigerator. Yes, it was a thoughtless act, but it wasn't catastrophic. Bob had leaped at the opportunity to shriek and howl with indignation. Enough was enough.
"Stop it this minute, Bob Beldon," Peggy said calmly after her first sip of coffee. "I'll mention it to Hannah, but she doesn't need you berating her." The girl was timid as it was, and one harsh word from Bob would destroy her.
"Does she think—"
"Bob." Peggy cut him off before he could wake Hannah with his ranting. "Aren't you meeting Pastor Dave this morning?" They had a standing golf date every Tuesday. Whether they played in the morning or the afternoon depended on the pastor's schedule.
Her husband looked at his watch, frowning. He nodded abruptly. "I'll be back before noon."
"Yes, dear," Peggy murmured as she headed for her chair in the living room. Each morning she took a few moments to meditate before beginning her day. In those moments, she organized her thoughts and made mental plans of what she hoped to accomplish. Bob was often reading from the AA Big Book, and she'd gotten into the habit of claiming a little peace and quiet for herself. It allowed her to start the day in a tranquil frame of mind.
Bob paused at the door that led to the patio. "You'll say something to Hannah, right?"
"Yes, dear."
He expelled his breath loudly enough for her to hear. "Don't patronize me, Peggy."
She didn't know what had set off her husband's foul mood, but assumed that whatever was bothering him would work its way out of his system before he finished his golf game. More than likely he'd come home at lunchtime apologetic and contrite.