When the sun started to set, we’d gone back to the house and Melissa cooked dinner while Jackson vegged out in front of the TV. I had a feeling Melissa made the food just to give herself something to do. No one was hungry and the meal went mostly untouched. Then Jackson had asked to go to bed early and Melissa took him an hour before his usual bedtime to get him settled for the night.
“Did you tell him we’re leaving tomorrow?” I asked against her hair.
“Yeah. He didn’t have much to say.”
I nodded. “We just have to give him time. Getting back on the boat might help take his mind off of the news about his dad.”
“I hope so. I can’t watch him in so much pain. It hurts me too much.”
“I know.” I stroked her hair and held her tighter to my chest. “How are you doing with the news?”
Melissa attempted a shrug. “I’m numb to it right now. All that matters is getting Jackson through this as best as I can.”
I nodded. I understood she didn’t want to deal with her own emotions, not when her son was hurting. Still, I knew eventually all those thoughts and feelings would come back around again. I’d been forced to tamp emotions down for a lot of years and when they’d all come for me, it wasn’t pretty. On top of that, Melissa was pregnant. I wasn’t a pregnancy expert, but I knew the stress of carrying such a heavy load wasn’t likely to be good for our unborn child. There wasn’t much point in bringing it up, though. It would only make her feel worse and add to her stress, which was the last thing I wanted to do. All I could do was be supportive and as helpful as possible.
“Is everything ready for tomorrow?” Melissa asked, pulling away slightly so that she could look up into my face.
I gave her a nod. “Yeah. I have three days’ worth of groceries on board. Refilled the fresh water tanks and topped off the fuel. I called the owner of the cottage to settle the bill and let them know we’d be leaving. Do you need help packing?”
“Oh, shit. I hadn’t even thought about that…” She rubbed her eyes.
“It’s okay. We can whip through it in the morning.”
“Okay.” She dropped her hands to her belly and ran her fingers in circles thoughtfully. “This is one of those nights that I wish I could drink. Cheap wine and all.”
I smiled. “No, you really don’t. That stuff is awful.”
She laughed softly, and I let the sweet sound wash through me, warming me from the inside out. “We just got spoiled with Matt’s selection. Your brother has excellent taste. I might have to convince him to go wine shopping with me once this little one makes his or her arrival.”
A shiver of excitement ran over me at the way she spoke of our future child. It made it seem so real. A vivid picture of Melissa holding a baby in her arms flashed before my eyes. “The real question is going to be if he ever talks to me again once I tell him he’s going to be an uncle…”
“Why wouldn’t he talk to you?”
“Well, Matt’s a pretty straight laced guy. Sure, he plays around, but he’s actually fairly conservative for a high-powered lawyer.”
Melissa giggled. “I think we learned that from the interior design choices on his boat.”
“Right,” I said with a chuckle. “He won’t be thrilled that I slept with one of his clients, who also happened to be one of my clients.”
Melissa wrinkled her nose. “Let’s not refer to me as one of your clients again. It makes the whole thing sound a little cheap.”
I laughed. “I don’t mean it like that.”
“I know,” she said, still giggling. “But I can’t help but picture you in some leopard print Speedo or something.”
“Oh, shit!” I bit back a roar of a laugh to avoid waking Jackson. “Okay, how about we make a deal? You never, ever, think of me that way again?”
Melissa laughed harder and stifled the sound with her hand. “Deal,” she said, once she got herself under control. “Gigolo Chase. You know, you could make a killing with the cougar crowd though! I’m telling ya.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re killing me. That’s what’s happening here.”
She considered me. “Can you dance?”
I grabbed her hands and spun her in a circle, as though about to properly dance with her, but then ground my hips up against her in a sultry little move I’d learned after one too many tequila shots back in college.
Melissa giggled. “Oh my! You actually can dance!”
I continued to grind on her and her laugh fell away as she got into the rhythm of the dance. “All right, spill. How do you know how to dance like…this?” she asked, glancing down at my rocking hips.