His Expectant Neighbor. Susan Meier
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Ben only continued to look at her, and she dropped the oven mitt she had just used to open the grill lid.
This was not good.
“Should I turn them over?” Nathan asked, still trying to get her attention.
But Gwen was lost. It occurred to her that maybe Ben Crowe wasn’t as angry and intense as she thought. No one else in the town had a problem with him. Everybody else let him keep to himself without question or qualm. Yet she nitpicked at everything he did. With him standing on the other side of her sliding glass doors, holding a plate of sliced tomatoes, staring at her as if he couldn’t get himself to stop, Gwen suddenly knew why they didn’t seem to get along and she squeezed her eyes shut.
He found her as attractive as she found him.
And he was fighting it every bit as hard as she was fighting it.
If it hadn’t been for Nathan, dinner might have been eaten in complete silence. Luckily, neither Gwen nor Ben had trouble talking to Nathan. Luckily, Nathan didn’t seem to notice that the adults were so uncomfortable with each other they were using him to pass the salt so they didn’t have to speak directly to each other.
Being a gentleman, Ben helped with the dishes. The gesture reinforced that Ben Crowe was a very good man, but, unfortunately, it also reaffirmed the sexual attraction Gwen felt sizzling between them. She couldn’t stop noticing that he wasn’t merely a handsome man, he was a well-built man. She’d never seen him in a dress shirt and trousers, only a work shirt, vest and jeans. As he walked around her kitchen, putting away dishes and storing leftover food, his lighter weight apparel showed off his broad shoulders and his back which tapered into a trim waist. When Gwen realized that, she recognized her eyes were moving toward territory that was definitely off limits, and she refused to let herself even glance in his direction anymore.
When he shipped Nathan upstairs to get his jacket, Gwen also deduced that Ben had offered to help with the dishes so they would be too busy to be awkward around each other. Without the distraction of Nathan or the dishes, a thick silence stretched between them. Both tried to talk, neither could think of anything to say, and the peeks they stole at each other were so obvious and so telling, Gwen wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out.
She nearly breathed a sigh of relief when Nathan jogged down the steps. “I’m ready,” he called, darting toward the door.
Obviously grateful, Ben followed him, and, relieved to have them going, Gwen followed Ben. But when the energetic nine-year-old slipped beneath Ben’s arm and out the door, suddenly Ben and Gwen found themselves face-to-face and alone again.
“Thank you for staying,” Gwen said, and made the mistake of looking up into his eyes. Lord, he had gorgeous eyes. Nearly black and as bright as stars, they looked down at her, pinning her into immobility.
“I appreciated dinner,” he said quietly. “And also appreciated your being so good to Nathan.”
“He’s a wonderful boy,” she agreed softly.
Ben’s gaze fell to her mouth, then returned to her eyes, and Gwen watched him swallow hard. For a fleeting second she feared that he would kiss her, then realized she wished that he would. What would it feel like to have that beautiful mouth pressed to hers?
Ben cleared his throat. “I’ve sort of taken him under my wing, so if he gives you trouble, call me.”
Gwen shook her head. “He’s no trouble,” she said. But you are, she thought, then realized that wasn’t true. This man couldn’t hurt her if she didn’t let him. If she got control of these odd, runaway feelings right now, there would be no problem between them. She took a step back, away from him, clearly telling him she didn’t want to be kissed.
He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “Thank you for dinner,” he said, being formal again. “Make sure your door is locked,” he added before he walked outside. He closed her door with a secure tug, and then the only sound Gwen heard was silence.
She listened to the engine of his truck start, listened as the noise spiraled into nothing as he drove away, then squeezed her eyes shut and groaned. What the hell was happening to her? How could she have been so stupid as to stare in his eyes like a lovesick puppy?
For heaven’s sake, how could she even be looking at another man when she wasn’t over the last one yet?
Besides, she was pregnant. She was fat. She didn’t even really walk anymore, she waddled. Just like with the cookies, the only person she was fooling was herself if she thought a gorgeous man like Ben Crowe would find her attractive in this condition!
Ben couldn’t have disagreed more. Driving Nathan home that night he realized that the thing that struck him about her was how happy she was. She seemed to blossom around Nathan, which proved she would be a wonderful mother. But even before Nathan entered the picture Ben had noticed that Gwen…well, glowed. Yesterday it was so obvious he couldn’t miss it. And tonight she virtually radiated light and energy.
He would have berated himself for staring at her all evening like some lovesick teenager, except when he saw her staring at him through the sliding glass doors, he realized she found him attractive, too. At first that had been nothing but good for his ego, then Ben reminded himself of his thoughts from the day before. Being attracted to an already pregnant woman wasn’t something to play around with.
The next morning, bundled in denim and shielding his eyes from the sun with a Stetson as he rode the fence to spend some time outdoors—since he’d wasted the previous day in offices with lawyers, accountants and brokers—Ben decided that Gwen’s pregnancy was the bottom line to everything. Since he hadn’t been overwhelmingly attracted to a woman like this in years, and the biggest difference between Gwen and all the other women he met was her pregnancy, he figured that silly glow of hers was the real culprit, not an actual attraction.
He even felt fortified enough to knock on her door and walk right into her house that evening when he arrived to pick up Nathan. But when he saw her lying on the sofa, looking exhausted—completely without glow—and still thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world, he knew he was going to have to rethink this whole deal.
“What’s up?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the sofa beside her tummy, so he could get a better look at her face.
“I’m fine,” she said, obviously exasperated. “I told you before, I’m pregnant, not sick.”
“Where’s Nathan?”
“He’s making dinner.”
“He is?” Ben asked, his voice resonating with fear at the combination of a nine-year-old, boiling water and fire.
“Relax,” she said. “It’s only cold cereal from a box, but at this point that’s all I have the energy to eat. He told me he can get something at home with his foster parents.”
“I’ll see that he gets dinner,” Ben said, then rose from the couch. “And you’re eating something more than cold cereal.”
“Cold cereal is fine.”
He snorted a laugh. “Not hardly. Have you ever read one of those labels? You’re eating sugarcoated sugar.”
The words were barely out of Ben’s mouth before Gwen gasped as if in pain. He fell to the sofa again. “What’s wrong?” he asked urgently.
She gritted her teeth from the discomfort, but said, “It’s nothing.”
“Oh, yeah, right,” Ben said, rising from the couch. “Nathan, give me a hand here. I’m taking Mrs. Parker to the doctor.”
With surprising strength, Gwen caught his hand and tugged him down to the sofa again. “You are not taking me to the doctor.”
Leaning over so that he nearly pressed his nose to her nose, he disagreed. “Guess again.”
“The baby is moving. That’s all. Sometimes when he does it I get heartburn. Other