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Another Man's Baby Page 2


  “Fall out.” Eric roared. He was the highest ranking officer among the returning marines. Again he yelled for the men to break formation, seeing how hard it was for any of them to do what they were taught, to stand there regardless of what was going on around them and behave like soldiers.

  The men had tried to do that, but it was Eric who couldn’t. The sound of Gabi’s voice rolled through him. He couldn’t play soldier, not now. Now he was a husband who hadn’t seen his wife in an entire year. He turned, looking for his wife.

  One moment he was dismissing the men, the next his wife had magically appeared and was throwing herself at him, holding him so tightly that he thought she would break a rib. She was crying. He breathed in her essence, taking her sugar cookie scent, the scent he’d missed for an entire year, deep into his lungs. He couldn’t believe it, he was home. “Thank you,” he whispered to the unknown force that had saved him.

  ***

  Minutes later Eric and Gabrielle, like lots of other couples, remained in each other’s arms as though they were afraid to move, afraid it was a dream. It seemed words had failed them all. “Baby,” Eric finally moaned. He pushed away, looked at her hard, then pulled her back again against his chest. “Thank you,” he muttered softly. Why me? chased his words.

  “My prayers were answered,” Gabi whispered in his ear, crying softly now, her grip loosening just a bit.

  “So were mine,” Eric whispered back, not really believing it, because if they had truly been answered that bus would have held a lot more men. The war would be over and he could forget.

  “Come on, baby, let’s go home,” Gabrielle urged. “We have one day to ourselves.”

  Eric sat beside his wife enjoying her chatter interspersed with questions and tears. “Gabi, either look where you’re driving, or pull over and I’ll do it,” he warned.

  “I can’t help it. I’ve been waiting so long for you to come home. How am I not supposed to want to look at your sweet brown face and your gorgeous bald head and your full luscious lips? You have no idea of the dreams I’ve had.” She shivered. “I’m sorry, we don’t have to worry about any of that now, you’re home. And thank God that you don’t have to go back. What’s the first thing you want to do?” She grinned, turning again to him and he reached for the wheel.

  “I’m not kidding, Gabi, watch where you’re going.”

  “Close your eyes and stop worrying. God didn’t bring you home to take you from me in a car accident. Get real.”

  Eric grinned though an ache of loneliness filled him. Why? He shouldn’t be feeling this way now. “What are we in such a rush for? Who’s at the house waiting for us?”

  “Are you kidding? There is no way that I’m sharing you with anyone tonight.”

  “My mom’s going to kill you.”

  “Not this time. She understands, she just wants you to call her. So do it now, you won’t have time later. I can’t wait to get you home in our bed.” Gabrielle laughed.

  That was it. A cold breeze crept up Eric’s spine. He’d dreamt day and night of making love to his wife but now he felt tainted, as though he’d soil her. He’d felt that way for over four months, since he’d daydreamed of making love to Gabi, right before the truck came barreling down on them. He squeezed her hand, not saying anything. How could he tell her that he feared making love to her? He couldn’t, so he used Gabi’s cell and called his parents.

  For the remainder of the drive home Gabi did as he asked, though she glanced at him at stop signs. By the time she pulled into their drive, jerking to an abrupt stop, she had him laughing. She was the medicine his soul needed.

  Before he could close the door to their home his wife was in his arms pulling on his clothes, panting. A surge of pure lust washed over Eric, allowing him to forget everything for the moment.

  This was what he’d been saved for, he thought, as he lifted her into his arms and carried her toward their bedroom. This was what he’d prayed for.

  “I missed you so damn much,” he growled, ripping the clothing from her body, then literally tossing her on the bed and falling down beside her. He buried his lips in her sweet smelling brown skin and gasped at the wonder of it all. Suddenly a tremor rocked him to the depths, and he clutched Gabi tightly.

  “Eric, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  He shook his head, knowing she’d felt the movement. But he was overcome with emotion, unable to speak, unable to do anything but make love to her over and over, touching her, kissing her, tasting every inch of her and yearning for more.

  He didn’t think he would ever be sated. As soon as his release came he was filled again and took her, sometimes gently, sometime roughly, and all without a word. In his wife’s body he was attempting to forget, to wash away the terrible images, the memories. For several hours it worked. Gabi was his world and all that he needed.

  “Baby, welcome home,” Gabi whispered. “I’m so tired now I don’t know if I can stay awake. Boy, you wore me out.” She grinned sleepily, laid her head on his chest and before he could answer her, she was asleep.

  “I thought you couldn’t wait to get me home,” he teased to no avail. She was done in. He stroked her skin, wanting to follow her into sleep, but he couldn’t. His mind and his body were wired. He kissed Gabi’s forehead, grateful that he could touch her, that she was lying next to him, his sweat a fine sheen on her body, their sex perfuming the air.

  He listened to the sounds of her gentle snoring and smiled, knowing that it was with good reason that she’d fallen asleep exhausted. He thought to wake her; he still had a hard-on. He couldn’t believe it. Eric laughed. This was the medicine he’d needed.

  ***

  An hour later Eric was still awake. Unable to sleep, he reached for the remote control and began flipping through the channels, hoping for anything to take the edge off the feeling of doom that was trying so hard to claim him.

  News footage from Iraq sent a chill through Eric. He shouldn’t have turned on the television. Unable to turn it off, he watched and began to shiver. Wrapping his arms around Gabi, he pulled her close though his eyes remained focused on the screen. Every step the soldiers took, Eric took with them, wanting to warn the ones he didn’t think were being cautious enough. “Stay alert, damn you,” he shouted.

  “Baby, you okay?” Blinking awake, Gabi saw the TV on and looked at her husband’s face. He was staring transfixed at the news, much as she’d done the entire time he’d been gone. She reached over him for the remote and turned it off.

  “That’s not going to stop it, baby. It’s not that easy,” he said.

  “I know that, but you’re home now.”

  “Yes.” He pulled her into his arms. But a lot of my men aren’t, he thought and he wanted answers. He couldn’t forget his brush with death, the mysterious push on the base of his spine. Who? Why?

  Eric didn’t believe in things he couldn’t see or take apart. That was just a part of him. However, he’d never put anyone down for believing. Hell, he’d even sat in church a number of times himself. But when he looked at the world he wasn’t sure if he believed in the wispy creation from man’s mind, the all supreme God that his mother worshipped, that Gabi talked so freely about.

  And that was what was kicking his ass: being saved by Someone he didn’t believe in. Eric thought of all the things he’d done while in Iraq, the things he’d ordered his men to do because he’d been ordered to do it. He struggled against the pictures of men and children blown apart, bleeding, whether by their gunfire or their own people.

  The truth was that it didn’t matter who did it. Dead was dead and living with body parts blown off was a reality. Children left orphaned and families left homeless were also realities. The innocent suffered right along with the guilty.

  There were a lot of things Eric wanted answers to, things for which he didn’t have a data base to search. He worked on logic. The war to him was not logical. And logic didn’t explain how he’d heard Gabi’s voice, felt her lips on his and her arms around
him. He had not imagined those things.

  Suddenly he felt the same as when he’d been sitting in the car beside Gabi, lonely and dirty. He inhaled, and her scent filled him with awareness that she was everything good in his life, too good for him. Her hand reached between his legs and he caught her fingers. He’d soiled his wife enough for one night.

  Chapter Two

  Gabrielle Jackson glanced across the table at her husband. He was so different, so quiet. He’d lost a little weight, maybe ten pounds or so, but it looked good on his muscular frame. His shoulders were just as wide; it was his lean hips that showed the difference. On a man of his height no one but a wife would notice the weight loss. Well, maybe a mother, Gabrielle amended, knowing Ongela, her mother-in-law, would notice it.

  His beautiful bald head gleamed and she smiled knowing he’d probably shaved it just before he left. She liked that he was making himself sexy for her the same way she’d done for him. For a long moment she watched his long fingers that brought her so much pleasure; his hands were large and strong, but oh so gentle when he was caressing her. All six foot, three of this intense cocoa brown male belonged to her.

  He gazed at her and her skin tingled. She couldn’t believe they’d been so insatiable. She stared into his brown eyes and smiled. “I missed you so much, baby,” she said seductively. “This time was the worst. I’m glad you’re home for good now.”

  “I missed you too. So much that I thought of you when I shouldn’t have. Thinking of you did prove to be a distraction for me.”

  At first she thought he was teasing her but when the look in his eyes changed drastically and an expression of sadness worked its way into his features, she knew there was truth in his statement. She thought of the haunted look he’d had the night before, his screaming out, waking her. Gabi took a sip of her coffee, trying to determine the best way to proceed.

  “Is it as bad as what we see on the news?”

  Eric blinked, glanced at her as though she were a stranger. “What they show on the news is the PG version. What’s happening there is rated Triple X.”

  “What is happening there? Are we abusing the civilians? Does anyone feel bad about bombing their religious buildings?” Gabi stopped suddenly, the look in Eric’s eyes freezing her. She’d said the wrong thing; that wasn’t how she’d meant it. She only wanted to get him to talk, to open up. Each time he’d returned from Iraq his silence had become a little more pronounced. She stared into her husband’s pain-filled eyes. She’d only wanted to release him from that haunted expression. Instead it had worsened with each question she’d asked.

  “I’m not…I didn’t mean. I just wondered,” she faltered.

  “If you’re asking if we deliberately chose their holy sites to bomb or destroy, the answer is no. If you’re asking me if they had a band of snipers in there trying to take our heads off when we were trying to give food and water to the people, then yes.”

  “Did that happen to you?” Another wrong question. She watched as a transformation took place. Her husband’s jaw stiffened, then his shoulders and his entire body. He was sitting ramrod straight, as though waiting to fend off an attacker, an enemy. A little shiver touched her. Did Eric think of her as the enemy?

  “You don’t have to answers those questions,” Gabi said hurriedly, “not now anyway. We’ve got plenty of time for you to tell me what happened.”

  “Baby, you do know I wasn’t on vacation, right?” He worked his teeth back and forth against his bottom lip. “You understand I was in a war?”

  “I know that.”

  “It wasn’t a game, Gabi. I didn’t come home to be debriefed by my wife.” He stared at her for a moment. “I haven’t been home for a full day. The last thing I want to talk about is Iraq.”

  He held her gaze, knowing his own was fierce, and drew his features into the mask he used for civilians wanting to ply him with questions about the war. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t known his wife was curious, especially after he’d acted a fool shouting out at the television. Still, now wasn’t the time for talk. Now he was looking at all that delicious brown skin she was taunting him with. It was barely hidden by the short, see-through material she had on.

  “I don’t want to talk about it, Gabi.”

  “Not now?”

  “Maybe not ever. You need to respect that.”

  “I need to respect that?” Her head rolled to the side and she threw it back and stared at him, not liking the way he was talking to her. She closed her eyes. She wasn’t going to fight with him, not after all she’d gone through wanting him home.

  The sizzling from the stove was just what they both needed, a distraction from a conversation that didn’t promise to be pleasant. Okay, she could respect the fact that Eric was just home, that he didn’t want to talk about the war. As long as it didn’t have an effect on them, what did she care?

  She piled Eric’s plate with cheese and eggs, grits, potatoes and onions and hot smoked sausage. Then she buttered several biscuits and liberally applied the honey, setting them on a saucer for him.

  “I did eat while I was gone.”

  “Not like this. Didn’t you miss my cooking?”

  A smile curved his lips and Gabi felt her heart stop. She was thankful that her husband still had that effect on her. “What, you didn’t miss my cooking?”

  “You’re a good cook,” Eric admitted, biting into a buttered biscuit and swiping the honey that dripped onto his lips with his tongue. He chewed, making appreciative sounds. “Believe me, it wasn’t your cooking that I missed the most, though I did want a little taste of sugar cookies.”

  They stared at each other for a long moment. Gabi had never thought she smelled like cookies, sugar or otherwise, but she didn’t mind that her husband thought she did. “And the taste of cookies that you had last night, was it what you’d been dreaming of?”

  “A thousand times better, baby.” His look softened. “I didn’t expect you to go to sleep and leave me hanging like that, though. You must not have missed me as much as I missed you.”

  “Oh, I missed you all right, but you did wear this sister out.” She took a bite from her own biscuit. “I’m rested now.”

  Eric smiled across the table at his wife, wanting to tell her that he’d thought she was there with him when he’d thought he was dying, that he could smell her and even taste her lips. Remembering, he shivered. There was so much that happened there that he hoped the news never reported. America deserved to retain a more innocent picture of the war.

  “I’m sorry I spoke to you like that,” he said after a slight hesitation. “But it’s all anyone seems to want to talk about. Strangers, reporters, they hug you, welcome you back, then they question you. I’m dreading going to see my folks. I know if my mom didn’t insist I come last night it’s only because the two of you have every single person I know waiting to grill me.”

  “It’s a party, baby.”

  “I know.”

  “You’re not going to back out, are you? Your mother will blame me if you don’t go. Believe me, she’s not too happy that I got to spend time with you first. We even had a little thing.” Gabi laughed, popping a piece of sausage into her mouth. “I told her you were my husband, and she came back at me with, ‘So what? He’s my son, I gave birth to him.’”

  Now Eric was smiling, imagining his wife and his mother going at it. Good thing they actually loved each other. “How did you top her?”

  “I told her I was the one who was going to give birth to your babies, her grandkids, and unless she wanted us to move out of the country, she’d better give me a night to try and see what I could do to make her a grandmother.” Gabi laughed. “I won hands down.”

  “But you fell asleep.”

  “I’ve heard that it’s easier to make babies in the morning.” Gabi watched as Eric laughed at her, then dug into his food with new vigor, as if he thought she was going to take it away. “Don’t worry, I’m going to allow you time to finish your breakfast. As soon as you
refuel, what do you say we check out that theory?”

  ***

  Eric cringed when he saw all of the cars. His family and friends were all waiting inside to welcome him home. It’s funny, he thought, how you could want something so badly, then when you got it you only wanted to shrink into the woodwork. Besides longing for Gabi, he’d longed to spend time with his friends and family.

  His gaze landed on Gabi. Her eyes held that worried look they’d had since she’d found him awake watching news coverage of the war last night.

  “You going to be okay?” Gabi was eyeing him, glancing toward the door, then back at him. He tried to smile.

  “They only want to hug you, make sure you’re home safe and sound. They’re all so happy that you…that you came back. They’ve prayed so hard for your safety, well, yours and that of all the troops. We have to do this.”

  He pushed back the worry and ordered the tension from his shoulders. “I know they’ve all been worried, but they want to hear stories of the war. It wasn’t a game, Gabi, it’s all too real. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Then just say that, but be nice.” She smiled up at him and gave his hand a quick squeeze. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ve got your back. Just a few hours. I promise I’ll make it worth your while when we get home.”

  Before he could answer her, his mother was flying out the door. He could swear her feet never touched down. “Mom,” Eric said, choking up, catching her and spinning her around. The need to bawl like a baby had never been as strong as it was now with his mother’s arms around him, but thankfully there were fathers.

  He glanced over his mother’s shoulder, his gaze connecting with his father. Instantly his father was there, patting him on the back, pulling him from his mother and saving him from bawling.

  It didn’t do a thing for his mother or for Gabi who grabbed on to each other, each bawling, until he pulled Gabi away and his father took charge of his mother. “Women,” both men said at once and laughed to hide their own emotion.