Rosewood Lane (Cedar Cove #2)(34)

“Well…soon.”

“How soon?” he asked.

She took a moment to mull over the question. “I was hoping very soon, say in nine or ten months. If you agree.” She let her smooth, silky leg stroke his.

“You once told me you didn’t want children.”

“I changed my mind. How do you feel about a child—or two?”

“I’d be thrilled, but only if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

Seth kissed her neck and let his lips travel over her collarbone and then lower. Justine arched her back and moaned softly as he gently sucked her nipple.

Seth moved from one breast to the other, pausing in between. “One question.”

“Anything,” she whispered, panting and eager for him to make love to her again.

“Do twins run in your family?”

Justine laughed. “Every generation.”

Seth gave an exaggerated groan. “I was afraid of that.”

“If we happen to have a boy…” she murmured as he continued to explore her body. She ran her hands over his broad shoulders and sighed at the exquisite sensations she experienced.

“Hmm…”

“I’d like to name him after my brother.”

Seth raised his head so that their eyes met in the moonlit room. “So would I.”

“I think Jordan would be honored to have our son carry his name.”

Seth’s eyes seemed to glisten. “I think we should start on this baby project now, don’t you?”

A moment later, he moved over her, and Justine opened her body and her heart to receive his love. Her life could never return to the way it was before that summer afternoon sixteen years ago. Yet for the first time since that day, she felt truly free to create a new happiness. Hers and Seth’s.

Seven

Now that Justine and Seth’s wedding reception was over, Olivia could concentrate on Thanksgiving. Sitting in chambers after a day spent working out legal solutions in family court, she flipped the pages of her calendar and was dismayed to see that the holiday was almost upon her. Where had the days gone? She could barely remember when she’d last seen Jack. Was that her fault or—No, he was the one avoiding her, she decided. Olivia shook her head; she didn’t want to dwell on her on-again, off-again relationship with Jack Griffin.

There was a polite knock on the door. A tap Olivia instantly recognized as her mother’s. Charlotte enjoyed sitting in Olivia’s courtroom from time to time. She claimed she got her best knitting done while listening to Olivia’s cases. Only rarely did she visit Olivia while she was in chambers, and then it was usually because she had a strong opinion on one of her daughter’s cases. Charlotte usually managed to convey her views in a direct and unequivocal manner.

“Come in, Mom,” Olivia called.

“How’d you know it was me?” Charlotte asked, stepping into the room. She carried her knitting bag, which was twice as large as her not insignificant purse. Her mother gazed approvingly at the dark mahogany bookcases, which lined three walls.

Olivia swallowed a smile. “What’s on your mind, Mom?”

Charlotte set her knitting bag on the green leather sofa and sank into its thick cushions. “Do you realize it’s almost Thanksgiving?”

“Just now. I swear I don’t know what happened to this month.”

“I was just thinking we should invite Jack over this year. How do you feel about that?”

Actually, Olivia felt fine about it. Regardless of who’d been avoiding whom, an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner might go a long way toward healing the breach. “That’s a marvelous idea.”

Her mother glowed with pleasure.

“His son is still living with him, so we’ll want to include Eric, too,” Olivia reminded her.

“Of course,” Charlotte readily agreed.

“What about Cliff Harding? Will he be alone?”

Charlotte picked up her knitting bag and rested it on her knees. “I talked to him just the other day, and he’s flying to the East Coast to join his daughter and her family.”

“How nice.” Olivia was fond of Cliff, and she especially liked the patient way he dealt with Charlotte—and with Grace, too. She was pleased that he’d accepted the invitation to attend Justine and Seth’s wedding reception. His presence had obviously made the event that much more pleasurable for Grace, especially since he’d spent most of the afternoon at her side. Grace seemed more like her old self when Cliff was around. It was touching to see her respond to a man’s attention. When Dan disappeared, Grace had assumed she must be lacking in some way. For months, she’d blamed herself, although Olivia was certain the blame couldn’t be hers.

“I’ll do the pies,” Charlotte said. “Mincemeat, apple, pumpkin and pear. I do love a good pear pie.”

“What about the dinner rolls?” Olivia asked hopefully. Her mother’s homemade rolls were a treat not to be forgotten.

“Of course. That’s understood.”

They completed the menu—who’d be bringing what. Olivia was responsible for the turkey, dressing and all the trimmings. Olivia would ask Justine to provide the fruit salad and whatever else she wanted to contribute. Jack and Eric would be their guests.

As soon as her mother left, Olivia reached for the phone and punched in Jack’s number at the newspaper office. She was connected to his line right away.