The Hero (Thunder Point #3)(53)

“What are you doing? Can’t you leave that alone for ten minutes and talk to me?”

He shook his head. His index finger ran over the lines. “Here,” he said. “We can add a bedroom or two here.”

“Shouldn’t we talk about it?”

“I just don’t know how many bedrooms to add,” he said. “We know I’m fertile, even when I’m trying not to be. You’re the x-factor here. So how do you feel? Feel like one? Two? Three? Because I can still take the lot next door.”

“What are you doing? Are you crazy? The second I suggest throwing away my pills you’re building on three more bedrooms?”

He rolled over the plans and grabbed her arms, pulling her against him. He kissed her deep, hard and convincingly. And long. He didn’t release her mouth for a long, long time. When he finally did, his voice was a little hoarse. “This is it for me, sweetheart. And I hope it’s it for you. This beach, this town, this house. If you want to fill it up with kids or raccoons, there’s no way I can say no to you—so why don’t we add a bunch of bedrooms?”

“Do you want a baby?”

“I want one with you,” he said. “And I’m ready to get started.”

She laughed at him. “We’ll mess up your plans. Besides, I haven’t thrown away the pills yet.”

“No worries. I can always use the practice....”

* * *

Spencer, Devon and Mercy had dinner together most nights. Austin was still with his grandparents, but would be back in a few days to get ready for the start of school. Devon would pick up Mercy at the doctor’s house and they went home to freshen up. Then either Devon would make something simple at her house and Spencer would join them or, with Mercy in her pajamas and toting a couple of picture books, some color crayons and a coloring book, off they went down the street. “Does Pencer know I don’t like that pizza in the box?” Mercy always asked.

She laughed. “I think by now he gets it. But don’t worry—Spencer has peanut butter.”

“I like peanut butter,” she said.

But Spencer had a nice surprise for Mercy—he usually served her favorite meals. Tonight it was spaghetti and meatballs. So while they ate, Devon and Spencer always talked about football practice, or her busy office, with all the kids showing up for physicals and immunizations. They covered town news, updates on the transformation on the beach and anything else that came up. After dishes were done, Mercy was found on the sofa, reclining on her special blanket, leafing idly through her favorite book or watching an old kids’ movie on the hand-me-down DVD player that was once Austin’s. That was the best babysitter Devon had ever come across.

“I should take her home and put her to bed,” Devon said.

“No, you don’t,” he whispered, leaning into her and kissing her neck. “Not until you have to. Settle Mercy in Austin’s bed with her movie and come back here. I have a surprise for you.”

“I have a feeling I’m not going to be all that surprised,” she said with a smile. More kissing and snuggling, is what she assumed. They’d been sneaking kisses and caresses here and there for a week or more. But it was so wonderful to hold hands with someone, to not have to hide the affection. She had finally owned up to Scott Grant, who had asked, “Is it that kind of date yet?” And she’d said, “It is,” with a flush and a smile.

Devon went back to the living room where she found Spencer waiting on the couch. “Spencer, there’s a bell on the bedroom door!”

“I know,” he said, grinning. “It wouldn’t be safe to hang it around her neck.”

She sat down beside him. “How’s your back feeling?”

“As bad as my legs and arms, but I’m up to this, trust me.”

With his arms around her waist, he pulled her closer and covered her mouth with his. Her entire insides began to smile and she was so overwhelmed with gratitude for having found this man. She put her arms around his neck, leaned back and opened her mouth under his. He moaned; she sighed. She was melting inside; she was melting into him. His hands, large and callused, were roaming up and down her back, then they were in her hair, pulling her mouth hard against his, then they were on her butt.

She broke away just a little bit and said, “As surprises go, you’re pretty predictable. We make out like teenagers every night. And there’s a three-year-old in the next room,” she whispered. “Thank God you have good brakes.”

“Here you go. If you say yes, I lined up a babysitter for your house tomorrow night. A couple of them, actually. Landon and his girlfriend, Eve—Mac’s daughter. I asked them to babysit so I can take you out,” he said.

“Out?”

“Dinner?” he asked. “We can stay close. Maybe a bite to eat at Cliffhanger’s? Walk on the beach? Whatever you feel like.”

“Alone?” she asked.

He smiled at her. “I’m sure there will be people around. But we can spend a little time here without a three-year-old in the next room, if you feel like it.”

She bit her lip. “I’m a little nervous.”

He pinched her chin with a thumb and forefinger. “Listen to me, Devon. You don’t ever have to be nervous with me. I’m not going to push you into anything. Here’s what I want—I want you to always feel safe and comfortable with me. If you’re not ready for more than this, then I’m not ready.”