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Waiting for the Wedding Page 13


  “I thought an intimate candlelight dinner for two would be nicer,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with an inviting warm light.

  “You vixen,” he said with a laugh. “I know what you really have in mind…you intend to wine and dine me, then seduce me until I’m utterly senseless.”

  “Exactly,” she agreed.

  Clint sought her lips with his, amazed that after a full year of marriage, his desire, his love for her had only managed to increase. She returned his kiss with fervor, tangling her hands in his hair and pressing into him as if she couldn’t get close enough.

  Instantly Clint was aroused. He’d been delighted to discover that in making love to Sherry that first time, he’d apparently opened inside her a well of healthy, earthy, sweet passion. And it humbled him that her passion was provoked by him, intended only for him.

  “Now, that’s enough,” she said breathlessly as the kiss ended. Her cheeks were flushed a pretty pink as she pushed him away and stepped away from his embrace. “Let me get the table set.”

  He took his seat and watched while she got out the good linen cloth and spread it over the oak table. As she got the good dishes out of the cabinet and began to place them, he smiled with the pleasure of a man who loved and was loved. “You don’t have any students tonight, do you?”

  She grinned at him. “Sure, I scheduled half a dozen sessions so we couldn’t spend our anniversary together.” She laughed at his look of panic. “Of course I don’t have any students this evening.”

  Sherry hadn’t gotten a teaching job. There had been no openings available in any of the nearby districts. Instead she had begun an in-home tutoring service for children with learning disabilities and students who needed just a little extra help and encouragement.

  Clint checked his watch, then got up and left the kitchen. He grabbed the large envelope he’d tossed on the coffee table and returned to the kitchen. “Here, this is for you,” he said as he held it out to Sherry.

  Her eyes lit with pleasure. “Oh, an anniversary card,” she said. She opened the envelope and pulled out the flowery card. He watched her as she read it, saw the puzzled frown that momentarily crossed her forehead.

  She looked back up at him. “Honey, it’s a beautiful sentiment, but did you realize it’s a Mother’s Day card, not an anniversary card?”

  “Really?” He feigned surprise as he took the card from her and pretended to scan the contents. “Well, imagine that. I guess that just means that I need to make sure you’re a mother today.” He watched her, the utter stillness that overtook her, the tentative hope that lit her beautiful eyes.

  He smiled and tossed the card aside so he could pull her into his arms. “Nancy called today.”

  “She has a baby for us?” Sherry’s voice quivered with emotion.

  Clint nodded and watched tears sparkle in her eyes. “A baby boy. We’re supposed to meet her in her office in fifteen minutes.”

  “Fifteen minutes?” Sherry reeled out of his arms, her hands going to her hair, racing down the front of her. “But…but I can’t go like this. I need to change clothes, put on some makeup.” Despite her frantic words, she didn’t move, and Clint laughed.

  “Darlin’, he’s four weeks old. He won’t care whether your hair is combed or you’re wearing your Sunday finery.” He took her hand in his. “Come on, let’s go get our son.”

  Exactly fifteen minutes later they pulled up in front of the law office of Nancy Coltron. They had contacted Nancy soon after their wedding, explaining to the attractive, intelligent woman that they wanted to adopt.

  Clint took Sherry’s hand as they entered the office. Nancy sat in the waiting room, and Clint’s heart plummeted as he saw no sign of a baby anywhere.

  “Ah, two of my favorite people,” Nancy said in greeting. “Please, sit down.” She gestured them to the two chairs next to her.

  “Has something happened? Is something wrong?” Clint asked. He felt the pressure of Sherry’s hand squeezing his. Please don’t disappoint her, he prayed.

  “Everything is wonderfully right,” Nancy replied. “There are just a few things we need to discuss before I introduce you to your new son.”

  Clint and Sherry sat, but Clint didn’t release her hand. He watched her face, felt her happiness and knew this was the most right thing they had ever done.

  “I’ve never felt so good about an adoption before. This is pretty cut-and-dried. The parents are not confused young people, but rather a professional couple who don’t want children. Little Scott was a mistake.”

  “Scott.” Sherry breathed the name reverently. “Scott Graham.” She looked at Clint, her eyes shining. “It has a wonderful ring to it, doesn’t it?”

  He nodded, completely filled with her happiness.

  “The parents have already signed away their parental rights, so we can immediately petition the court and get the adoption process started.” Nancy smiled at the two of them. “Congratulations. I truly believe the three of you belong together.” She stood and smiled. “I’ll be right back.” She disappeared into her inner office and returned a moment later carrying a tiny bundle of blue.

  Sherry and Clint met her halfway across the room and Clint watched as Sherry took the sleeping little boy from Nancy. “Oh, Clint. He’s beautiful. Look how tiny he is.” Sherry’s voice quavered, and tears of joy trembled on her lashes.

  Clint looked at the baby. Dark tufts of hair covered his head and long, dark lashes lay on chubby little cheeks. His little mouth pursed as if trying to blow a kiss, and emotion roared through Clint.

  “Here, you hold him,” Sherry said.

  “No, I…” Clint’s protest fell away as she handed him the warm, tiny bundle. The baby squinted and opened one eye, then the other. For a moment he appeared to stare at Clint, as if contemplating whether or not Clint measured up.

  The baby yawned widely, then closed his eyes once again, as if deciding Clint was fit for fatherhood. Love swelled inside Clint. It filled him up and brought tears to his eyes. Scott. His son.

  “Here, I’ve got a present for you.” Nancy pulled an infant car seat from her office. “Now, go on, get out of here and take your son with you. I’ll be in touch about the paperwork later.”

  Clint handed Scott back to Sherry, his vision blurred with his tears of joy. He kissed his wife, then kissed his son’s forehead. He picked up the car seat and held the door open for his wife and his son. Complete. They were a family now. “Come on, let’s go home,” he said.

  As they walked out to the car, Nancy called after them. “Let me know when you’re ready for Scott to have a sister or a brother.”

  “It looks as if we’re going to spend our anniversary shopping for baby things,” Sherry said as they drove home.

  “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do,” Clint replied, then grinned wickedly. “Well, maybe I can think of one other thing I’d rather do.”

  Sherry slapped him on the arm and laughed—a laugh that contained so much happiness, such complete joy, it warmed Clint’s heart. Her laughter faded and she looked at him. “Thank you, Clint. All my dreams are coming true, and it’s all because of you.”

  Clint smiled. “And my dream came true the day you became my wife. Little Scott is just the icing on my cake.” He pulled over to the side of the road and turned to her. “But I want you to understand something,” he said teasingly. “Our second anniversary doesn’t mean twins.”

  She laughed and met him halfway for a kiss—a kiss that whispered of their love, their commitment and a future filled with joy.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-4075-3

  WAITING FOR THE WEDDING

  Copyright © 2000 by Carla Bracale

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permiss
ion of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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