"There's nothing to thank me for."
Slowly, he set down the photo, his gray eyes somber. "There are many things to thank you for."
Oh God, he could be so sweet sometimes. She walked into his arms, where she'd wanted to be all day anyway. Tension left his bunched muscles, his eyes softening but losing none of their impact.
She guided his hand to her stomach, placed and held it against their child. Cars drove past outside. Trees rustled in the breeze. But they both stood still and quiet for—she had no idea how long.
His hand slid away and up to sketch knuckles along her cheekbone. "I've loved you since the first time I saw you. No matter what happens, no matter what else we might say to each other, I want to make sure you know that."
She melted. Like a bowl of peach ice cream abandoned on the table, she melted into a puddle of emotions. Arching up, she met him as he angled down to kiss her.
With her defensiveness washing away, the hope shone clearer. Tempting her. Maybe things really would be okay this time without pushing him.
But then she remembered his words to Chris in the kitchen about fear and bravery. In the face of J.T.'s strength and courage, how could she be anything less? This was her defining moment. If she wanted to be a woman worthy of this so very special man, she needed to be brave enough to make the tougher choices.
Resolve stronger than her shaky knees and quivering belly, she eased down from her toes, broke the kiss. She caressed J.T.'s bristly jaw up into the silver flecking his temples. "I'd like us to attend marital counseling."
Predictably, he turned stone still in her arms. "Why? Things are back on track now. Didn't you hear what I just said?"
Hear? Of course she'd heard. And it scared the spit out of her because she wanted to chicken out and just take what she could. But she knew now that would only delay the inevitable. "On track? J.T., we had great sex."
He quirked an eyebrow, not smiling. Already she could feel the restrained irritation resurrecting within him.
"Fine. Incredible sex." Better than anything she could remember, sex that touched places of her soul she didn't know existed. "That hasn't helped us before."
Still, he kept his temper reined, cupped her shoulders, his hands on her always a distraction. He almost certainly knew that and was using it, damn him.
"I get your point, babe, but we're talking like you always wanted. Hell, I've talked more in the past two weeks than I did the whole time I was growing up."
He had a point, and she wanted to be swayed as much as she wanted to dig in her bare feet and stand her ground. Problem was, when this man finally decided to speak, he could talk her out of her good sense as fast as he could her clothes and heart. "We need an impartial third party to help us sort through some tough issues."
"I figure we've passed a few landmarks," he continued as if she hadn't even spoken. "Sure we've had arguments, but I haven't walked out of the room and you haven't thrown a dish. That's progress."
"Not funny."
"Yes, it is."
Her lips twitched. "Maybe a little."
"So what's the problem? We've got a good thing going. Let's roll with it."
"Yes, things are improving. We both still have feelings for each other." She kept her eyes on the neck of his flight suit rather than risk falling into his smoky eyes. "But we're deluding ourselves if we think everything's magically going to get better. This—" she waved her hand in the general direction of their bed—a bed that was waiting too conveniently close for her peace of mind "—is wonderful, but it's a Band-Aid fix. What's changed to keep us from landing back in the same hurtful place?"
"We're older. Smarter."
She snorted. "We're older, anyway." Grabbing hold of her resolve while sticking strong to her decision not to grab hold of him, she stared straight into his eyes. "Jesus, J.T., can't you see that even with progress, we're also still making some of the same mistakes?"
He exhaled long, slow, pissed. "So use the counselor degree and tell me what I should do."
She forced her own arms to stay at her sides as much as she wanted to cross them, close herself off. "It's not you. It's us. And you know I can't do that, anyway. It's like telling a doctor to diagnose and treat herself. There's no way to obtain impartial distance."
"You're great just the way you are."
"Quit BSing me, J.T." She resisted the urge to stomp her foot, which would only hurt and not accomplish squat except to give away her frustration level when it came to this infuriating, sexy, heartbreakingly wonderful man. "I may not he able to heal my own family, but I know enough to realize it takes two to make or break a marriage."
"We can't afford it," he said, thumbing the ultrasound photo off the dresser, "especially not with a new kid on the way."
"We can't afford not to, especially with a new baby on the way."