Countdown To Baby

Gathering her things, Cecilia responded absently. “Mmm?”

“Have a great weekend, okay?”

She smiled. “Thanks, Van. I intend to.”

It was an impulse that made Cecilia change into a bright red sundress when she got home from work. Maybe because she’d had on a red dress when she’d met Geoff last week, though this one was more casual. The spaghetti straps bared her arms and shoulders, while the ruffled vee bodice gave just a hint of cleavage. She wore hoop earrings for a gypsy touch and chose more comfortable sandals than she’d worn last week.

Maybe she was a bit overdressed, she mused as she pinned her hair into a loose roll, but she enjoyed dressing up occasionally after spending so much of her life in scrubs and casual clothes.

She decided it was worth the effort when Geoff saw her. After giving her a kiss that nearly melted her into the floor, he raised his head to ask huskily, “Have I mentioned that I like the way you look in red?”

“I think you just made that clear. You look awfully good yourself,” she added, admiring the way his white shirt and well-tailored khakis showed off both his tan and his athletic physique.

He nodded toward the red wheeled bag sitting nearby. “Is this all you’re taking?”

“Yes.” She picked up her purse. “I’m ready.”

A grin spread across his face. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear that.”

It was a nice evening for a drive. Clear and not quite as hot as it had been. Piano music played quietly from the CD player, proving a pleasant background without impeding their lively conversation. It was always a bit surprising to Cecilia how much they could find to talk about even when they’d only been apart for a few hours.

“Are you going to tell me now where we’re going?” she asked when they had been on the road for just over half an hour.

“My family owns a vacation cottage on the far side of Ginman’s Lake, close to the river. It’s a place we go when we want to get away from the phone and the social calendars, yet we’re still nearby if we’re needed. I think you and I can have a nice, relaxing weekend there.”

“It sounds very nice. How much farther?”

“Ten minutes. It’s only a forty-minute drive from your house.”

Which meant she could be at the clinic in half an hour if necessary, she figured.

She hoped it wouldn’t be necessary.

The Bingham “cottage” was hardly a modest little vacation house, she observed when Geoff drove down the long gravel driveway. Constructed of rock and glass and sitting on a secluded lot that fell off to the lake in the back, the two-story house was bigger than her own home. Everything was so tidy and well maintained that she was quite sure they kept a grounds-keeper on full-time retainer. “This is lovely.”

“I haven’t spent much time here since my mother died, but Dad comes fairly often for a fishing weekend.”

Carrying their bags, he led her inside. She noted immediately that the heavy wood and overstuffed upholstered furnishings bore not a trace of dust. The main room was two stories high, surrounded by an upstairs balcony that probably led to bedrooms. The back wall was covered with closed draperies, but she would bet it was made of glass to showcase the lake view.

One wall was made up entirely of built-in bookcases to display books, family photos, electronic equipment, board games and knickknacks. A swinging wood door on another wall probably opened into the kitchen. The room was sweetly scented by the fresh flowers arranged in several scattered vases.

“Obviously you had someone prepare for our arrival,” she commented.

“Mmm. Come with me and I’ll show you the upstairs.”

Tagging obligingly behind him, she climbed the curving staircase and stepped into the first door on the left. It was a bedroom, of course, with a big iron bed in the center of the bac

k wall and a dresser, armoire and nightstands made of distressed pine. The fabrics were in nubby golds and browns, and a thick rug was spread on the oak floor.

It was a warm, inviting room, and it wasn’t hard for Cecilia to imagine snuggling with Geoff in that big bed. The image alone was enough to bring a light flush to her cheeks.

“Maybe you’d like to freshen up while I take care of a few last-minute details downstairs,” he suggested. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“Are you kidding? I’m starving.”

He smiled. “Give me fifteen minutes.”

“I suppose I can wait that long—barely.”