"Feeling ambitious are we, flyboy?" She twisted to her side and wriggled against him. His shirt flapped open. Moonbeams caressed an irresistible expanse of chest for her to snuggle against.

"Give me another ten minutes and we can find out."

Experience with him told her it would be closer to five before they began again. The next time would be fun and playful s.e.x that could since the leaves right off those trees overhead.

And she wanted that, didn't she? Of course she did. Only a crazy woman would pa.s.s up one last chance for that.

First she wanted more time, more lazy caresses and stargazing. Too often, they both rushed life, type-A personalities at full tilt.

Stilling his hand with hers, she carried it to her mouth and kissed his palm before placing it on her hip. "Why did you bring me to your parents' place?"

His eyes met hers with expected straightforward honesty. "To see my family in action, day-to-day stuff, not a restaurant good-behavior gig."

He flipped to his back, arm flinging over his eyes. "Lori, I don't know how to put a family together. Not the kind a kid deserves. Not the kind you deserve."

His words hinted at more than an obsession with his job this time. Suddenly she wasn't sure she wanted to understand, because his reasons might be all the more compelling. Yet, the idea that he might see his actions as protecting her started a trembling in her knees that made her grateful to be flat on her back.

"My dad has post-traumatic stress syndrome. This was a good day for him."

"I'm so sorry." Lori fit her hand in his.

He didn't look at her, but he didn't let go. Piecing together bits of Gray's childhood along with some professional observations slid the picture into place. Some children of PTSD sufferers had difficulty forming deeper, lasting relationships, having missed out on crucial early bonding experiences with their parents.

Maybe she should have guessed earlier when he'd talked about his father coming home, but had been too distracted by the pain radiating from Gray. It had reached to her across that blanket more effectively than a grappling hook. Still did.

"We didn't understand for a long time, years even. He wasn't violent or terrified. He functioned at work. But at home, he just ... wasn't there."

"How awful for all of you." She didn't have to imagine what his childhood had been like. Her caseload with Social Services had offered ample background material to draw from, to stir an ache for the confused little boy Gray must have been. The strong, stubborn man he was now. Understanding helped-and hurt as their problems rooted deeper. "He didn't ever get much help processing it all, did he?"

Gray peeked from under his arm. "That obvious, huh?"

"Some of the signs are still there." She paused, then dared to push him further, never having been one to back off a tough subject before she met Gray. "The signs are there in all of you when you're together."

"Putting that training to work I see."

"I should have seen it earlier."

He twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. "How could you? We never got close enough before."

"No, we didn't."

"We bad other things on our mind."

His smile kicked in, and past experience told her he'd slipped away from her again, shielding himself with a smile.

"Things like making-up s.e.x. Morning s.e.x."

She gave him the smile he needed. "After-dinner s.e.x."

"Welcome-home s.e.x."

Their eyes met, and his last homecoming-the one that had prompted her to walk out on him-slid right between them like a slippery rogue ice cube. Gray's smile faded. He tunneled his hand deeper into her hair, looping it around his wrist until she couldn't look anywhere but into his eyes.

"Lori, I missed you so d.a.m.ned much during that England deployment." His grip tightened, almost painfully. "For years I'd razzed the guys who called home to their wives instead of going out. I was in England, for crying out loud, and the most sight-seeing I managed was from inside those red telephone booths. Then I found myself skipping out on a trip to a pub because I wanted to call you. h.e.l.l, I had to call you."

She caressed his bristly face. "Those calls meant a lot to me."

"I know."

He untwined her hair with slow, sensual deliberation, trailing the strands down his arm and through his lingers. "The minute the plane landed in Charleston, I blew off debrief with a lame excuse and met you at my place that night like we'd planned."

They'd been so hot for each other, only to discover Lori had forgotten her pill the morning before. Gray had insisted it wasn't worth the risk, and neither of them had back-up birth control. They'd sprinted for his car in a tangle of arms, legs and laughter ready to scout out an all night supermarket, and he'd found...

Gray winced against her. "You had planted flowers."

"Flowers?"

"Yeah. Don't you remember? While I was gone, you planted those yellow and purplish little flowers in pots in front of my apartment. I missed them when I ran inside in the dark. Other things on my mind at that moment. But when we stepped back out and the porch light zeroed right in on those homey flowers..."

Lori couldn't decide whether to cry or slug him. She'd attached so many hopes to those flowers, certain that if she worked hard enough, made his home life perfect enough he would stay. And she'd only sent him running. "Imagine that. The mighty warrior downed by a flat of pansies."

"Pitiful."

The rest unfolded with a clarity that had eluded her for a year. "So you asked me to move in with you, knowing full well I wanted a ring. You knew I would bolt." Lori had turned him down flat, and he'd stormed out. She'd called a cab and left before he returned. "Do you ever wonder what would have happened if you'd had an extra condom lying around and hadn't found those flowers until the next morning?"

The drifting wind carried his dark laugh over her. "More than once. One condom, and things might-"

A condom.

Lori jackknifed up and looked down into Gray's horrorstruck eyes. How could she have forgotten? The rumpled quilt mocked her with memories of their uninhibited lovemaking. Unprotected lovemaking. Icy whispers from a year ago teased over her. The lack of a single condom had once again launched her life into chaos. And this time she couldn't run away.

Chapter 15.

No condom. Gray looked up into Lori's horror-struck eyes.

How could he have been so reckless? He even carried one in his wallet that he'd bought after his and Lori's near miss a week ago. Other than that brief, almost encounter with her, he had never lost control. Never. He thrived on control and structure, one of the aspects he liked and needed most in his job.

An hour with Lori had him losing sight of that, and it scared the h.e.l.l out of him.

She drew her knees to her chest, her dress shrouding her legs. "So much for our talk."

He stared at Lori, a normal occurrence for him, and couldn't help but notice how totally alone she looked. How strange, since he usually thought of her as so competent, in charge, strong.

The moonlight caressing her face, she flipped her whiskey-brown hair over her shoulder. Her dress flowed around her gentle curves without a wrinkle to hint at the wild abandon she'd indulged in only moments before. Lori rarely lost her cool. Except for those moments when her incredible legs had been wrapped around his waist and- Don't go there, pal. He zipped his pants and reminded himself to start thinking with his brain again. There could be very real-tiny, living consequences from their slip.

He knew she could succeed no matter what life brought her way. But she d.a.m.n well wouldn't be facing it alone if she was carrying his child. "I'll make it right. Whatever happens, I don't walk out on my responsibilities."

"Be still my heart." Sarcasm dripped from her words like the Spanish moss draping the branches overhead.

"Lori, d.a.m.n it, stop being flip." The humid night air wrapped around him with claustrophobic weight. He forced himself to breathe. "This is important, and you're not helping."

"Sorry. I know that was difficult for you."

He listened for more sarcasm, hearing nothing but determination.

Tread warily, pal. Land mines ahead. He wasn't going to get anywhere with her now and could too easily make things worse. "Let's save this talk for later. Better to wait rather than to say things we'll both regret only to find out we never needed to say them at all."

"Of course. Why even consider marriage unless I'm pregnant?"

A reasonable stance. Why then did her every word stab at him as if he'd fallen short of the mark?

"I'm sorry for losing contr-"

"Did it ever dawn on you that maybe you're not calling the shots this time?"

He paused b.u.t.toning his shirt. "What does that mean?"

"I was the one who crawled across that blanket. I wanted you. Granted, I wasn't thinking straight or I would have remembered about birth control. My brain gets scrambled around you."

Her words fizzled as the air crackled between them. How incredible to think he could move the imperturbable Lori.

For an insane moment he wanted to be exactly what she needed, and that absurd notion warred with his deep-seated need to defend. Protect. Protect her. "Lori-"

"Stop! I knew what I was doing, and I'm the one taking responsibility. No need to worry about being tied down. Go fly your planes, Major." She scrambled to her feet, shaking the wrinkles out of her dress while she slipped on her shoes. "It's been fun, as always. But I've got a child to check on."

She darted into the woods before he could untangle his brain.

Child? The word so close on the heels of their discussion had him wondering how she could already know... Then he remembered Magda.

He knew full well Lori wouldn't be giving up Magda at the evidentiary hearing. And a single, pregnant foster mother wouldn't go over well with the courts.

She would have to marry him.

The air grew heavier, then spa.r.s.e, not unlike the rapid decompression the day before. He pressed his hands against the ground, the bed of pine needles giving slightly beneath the force.

It was bad enough he'd let Lori down. Adding that impish little kid into the mess left him wanting to ram his fist into the tree trunk, a dangerous thought for a man who made his living with his hands. But Lori frequently had him thinking dangerous thoughts.

And what about a child they may have made? Images of Lori swelling with his baby, giving birth into his waiting hands, stirred a protectiveness so fierce it astounded him. He'd attended deliveries in training and had found the experience-simply awesome. Replacing the mother with an image of Lori was beyond anything he could imagine.

He had placed his foot squarely on a mammoth land mine, blowing to pieces all his plans to keep it simple and leave town.

Gray stood and yanked up the blanket. A sc.r.a.p of red satin fluttered to the ground. Memories of his and Lori's total lack of control rolled back over him like a tank. Would it always he that way between them?

He jammed the panties into his pocket and sprinted after her. He caught up with her just as she came back out his parents' door with Magda in her arms, the child an excellent chaperone and armor. Lori called her farewell and thanks to Gray's mother and patently avoided him. She wouldn't even look at him.

Instinct told him it would be a long, quiet ride back to her place. Experience from the past year told him that the silence could reach past dropping her off.

The thought of losing her again panicked him almost as much as the idea of marriage.

How far would he go to keep her?

*** Could she be pregnant? Lori drummed her fingers against the box of crayons on the kitchen table. She was late enough for it to be a possibility. Although she'd never been regular, and stress had been beyond normal the past two weeks.

No rationale could reason away a totally irrational wish for it to be true. She wanted Gray's baby inside her.

Had she subconsciously risked pregnancy to keep a part of Gray with her? She honestly didn't think so. That didn't stop her from cherishing a tiny dream face just as she cherished the little face across the table from her.

A CD of kiddie tunes chirped in the background, "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" repeating. Magda bobbed her head in time while concentrating on an ABC coloring book. Lori picked up a blue crayon and forced herself to color the picture beside Magda's.

Blue. Like Grayson's apartment. His old apartment. What would his new one in Washington look like?

She flung aside the crayon and selected a pink one.

Pink, for another little girl in her life.

That crayon snapped in her fingers.

Lori carefully chose a green crayon and began filling in the capital T. A towering tree waited beneath the letter, a big oak packed with memories of when she might have made that baby.

She sighed. With her luck, Magda would be coloring "stars" for the S on the other page.

Lori dared a look.

S for soap.

Thank goodness.

She checked her watch for the tenth time. Another two minutes and her home-pregnancy test would be complete. Meanwhile she needed to focus on having fun with the child she already had, a child as dear to her as any she might carry below her heart for nine months. No matter how the test turned out, Lori wouldn't be giving up Magda. She wanted to be Magda's legal mother. The paperwork had already been filed.

"Tree." Lori pointed to her T page. "Tree."

"Twee," Magda repeated.

"Good girl, Magda! Good girl." She gathered her close, smiling down at Magda's precious, healthy face. Lori folded two fingers, leaving her pinky, pointer and thumb extended. "I love you."

Magda repeated the gesture, if not the words, without hesitation. Lori hugged her tighter. She didn't know whether to attribute the sting of tears to pregnancy or PMS. Either way, her throat clogged, and she wanted to share this moment with Gray so much it hurt.

Picking away at Lori's already crumbling defenses, the CD shifted to "Old MacDonald."

With the unerring timing of a child, Magda looked around the kitchen. "Doc?"

The lone word sucker punched Lori. She stroked Magda's mussed hair back. "Sorry, Magda. Doc's not here."