It Could Happen to Us: Quotable Romance Read online

  “Let me help you with that.” Mark put a hearty dollop of whipped cream on her waffle.

  Allie laughed. “Thanks, but I like a little waffle with my whipped cream.” She went to take the spoon from him to scoop off at least half the whipped cream, but he didn’t remove his hand and she ended up wrapping her fingers around his. His chest brushed against her back and she fought the urge to lean against him. Letting go, she set her plate on the counter before she dropped it.

  Mark shifted and his chest brushed against her shoulder, making her heart jolt. “Here, we’ll do this.” He spooned berries, peaches, and banana slices on top and then added another waffle. “Better?”

  Allie stared at the odd sandwich that was almost as appetizing as the man who created it. She bumped him with her shoulder. “You know what? I think it is.”

  They gathered around the table and said grace before digging in.

  “How are you doing, Leticia?” Mark asked, pointing his fork to her basketball of a tummy.

  “I’m looking forward to sleeping on my stomach again—I can tell you that.” Leticia popped a blueberry in her mouth.

  “Like you’re going to sleep once the baby’s here. I didn’t sleep for the whole first year after Chloe was born.”

  Leticia coughed on her blueberry. Anthony took her hand, moving his thumb back and forth across her knuckles.

  Allie turned from the tender scene, focusing instead on her breakfast. Mark had mentioned he had a daughter and she could probably find out all about the girl with one quick Google search. But she kind of liked getting to hear about her through Mark—the information would be intimate and personal.

  She momentarily wondered if the disclaimer statement she’d signed yesterday applied to this morning too. Not that it mattered to her if the agreement held or not, because she wasn’t the type to go running to the press. But Mark mentioning his daughter in such a casual way did matter to her, because it showed he trusted her—at least a little bit—like a friend. She tucked the thought of being friends with Mark into a side pocket so she could pull it out and examine it later. Being friends with the superstar was an intriguing concept. Not because such a friendship would mean seat warmers and scented body soaps, but because friends watched out for one another. He’d done that last night and she vowed to return the favor by guarding his privacy.

  Leticia sank in her chair. “I hadn’t thought about not sleeping when she was here.”

  Allie didn’t like the look of discouragement on her beautiful face. “Have you thought about a nursery?” She hoped to focus on the fun parts of having a baby.

  “We did.” Anthony nodded to Leticia for her to explain as he gathered up a third of the sausage from the serving dish. He probably had to eat a lot of protein, being an athlete and all. Allie checked Mark’s plate and saw just as much meat. She bit her cheek at the thought of him eating to feed his muscles. She really needed to stop thinking about those.

  “Do you want to see it?” Leticia asked hopefully.

  Allie nodded. Her hand went to her stomach. “I think I’m done here. I shouldn’t have attempted Mark’s waffle tower.” They all chuckled.

  Mark’s touched her elbow and his laugh lines appeared. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

  “Ooooooh.” Allie hugged her middle and bent forward. “Give me at least four hours.”

  “You got it.” He winked.

  Was he kidding? Surely he wasn’t suggesting they would still be together in four hours. That was just plain silly … and impossible … and absolutely wonderful.

  “Go on with ya,” Anthony encouraged. “We’ll take care of clean up.”

  “Thanks, love.” Leticia kissed his cheek and motioned for Allie to follow her down the hallway. Allie did, her feet moving away from Mark but her mind mulling over his comment. He must have been joking.

  Leticia opened the door and motioned for Allie to go in first.

  Two steps in, Allie was accosted by the dish-glove yellow walls and the neon blue carpet. She stared at the floor. The carpet was actually blue. Whaaaat? The body of a giraffe covered one wall, the neck and head cut off, like the artist had forgotten what he was doing and up and left in the middle of painting. An orange and green blanket hung over the edge of the crib fitted with dark purple sheets.

  “We hired Hugo Francois to do the design.” Leticia turned in a circle in the middle of the room, a slight frown marring her model-perfect features.

  Was he high?

  “He’s done nurseries for Will Smith and Tom Brady,” she added.

  “You mean you didn’t pick any of this?” Allie asked to be sure. She didn’t want to hurt Leticia’s feelings, but dang. The room was ugly.

  “I didn’t lift a finger. Hugo did all the work.” Her perfect brows drew together.

  What a relief. The room’s psychedelic motif didn’t match the rest of the house. The poor baby would have nightmares, or grow up to be a diabolical scientist or a circus clown. “So he dictated the colors … and … and you hate it, don’t you.”

  “I don’t love it,” she replied diplomatically.

  Sign this woman up for the UN. Allie laughed, which made Leticia laugh too.

  In the middle of her laughter, Leticia started to cry. Soon, she was laughing and crying at the same time. “Everyone raved about what a genius he is—I didn’t dare tell them he’s crazy.” She continued to blot at her dripping mascara.

  “Here, use this.” Allie handed her the orange blanket.

  Leticia hesitated.

  “You can’t make it any worse.” They laughed again and Leticia swiped a large black mark across the middle of the quilt.

  Allie ran her hand over the walnut wood. “This is a beautiful crib, though.”

  “That’s my favorite part.” Leticia stepped beside her.

  “Close your eyes and picture a blanket to go in this crib.”

  Leticia did so.

  “What color is the blanket?”

  “Mint green.” A note of hope lit her response.

  “There you go—you need that mint-green blanket.”

  “I don’t know.” She looked around. “Baby Magazine is coming to take pictures in three weeks. They’re expecting Hugo’s work.”

  “Honey—nobody is expecting this.” Allie twirled her finger by her temple.

  Leticia held her stomach as she laughed. “It’s awful.”

  “I know!” Allie swiped at the corner of her eye. “Let’s get out of here.” She shooed the still chuckling Leticia out. “We’ll just shut the door and you can have Hugo arrested for defacing your home.”

  Leticia giggled. “A headless giraffe—really?”

  “I heard animal prints are in this year,” joked Allie, which had them both holding their sides.

  They entered the kitchen like that and found Anthony wiping down the waffle iron. He did a double take. Crossing the room quickly, he pulled Leticia into his arms. “It’s good to hear you laugh.”

  “Don’t worry, no animals were harmed in the making of this joke,” quipped Allie.

  Leticia swatted at her. “Stop it. You’re going to make me go into labor.” She leaned into Anthony, who kissed her hair. She fanned her face, flushed with happiness.

  Allie enjoyed the shared moment.

  Mark came up behind them, entering from the hallway. His hair was just-showered wet and he smelled like pumpkins and cinnamon. Maybe his bathroom had a difference soap theme than hers. She liked it on him, though. “Are you ready to head out?” he asked.

  Allie shook her head, subconsciously never wanting to leave her new friend and their beautiful home, but she managed to croak out a “Yes.”

  “Are you sure?” He shook his head and then nodded, teasing her.

  “No. I hate to leave, y’all have been so nice. But I guess every great story has to come to an end.”

  Anthony slid his arms around Leticia’s middle from behind and rested his head on her shoulder. “It’s been great having you.” He gave Leticia
a little squeeze.

  “I have a bag of bath soaps and salts for you.” Leticia patted Anthony’s hand. He released her and she headed down the hall, punching Mark in the arm as she passed.

  Mark sheepishly rubbed his bicep. His rather beautiful bicep.

  “What was that for?” Allie asked.

  “I accidentally gave the bag she sent for you last night to George and his … date.”

  “Oh.” Allie didn’t have a chance to ask when he’d seen George because Leticia came back in with a gift basket.

  “This is the magnolia line, the same stuff that’s in the guest bath.”

  The matching bath products were wonderful. “I loved them.”

  “Magnolias smell great on you,” Mark added.

  “You can smell the lotion?” She sniffed her arm.

  He leaned in. “Only when I’m close.”

  Allie was suddenly overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with his nearness, with the sheer mass of him. His shoulders were broad and rounded, and running her hands over them would be a treat. “Hmmmm.”

  Anthony cleared his throat.

  Allie was helpless to halt her embarrassment—mortified that she’d totally checked Mark out in front of his friends.

  Her friends.

  After this morning, she’d count the Greens as more than just acquaintances. For a while, she’d forgotten that Anthony was a baseball star and Leticia was a Peruvian model. They lived in a big house and drove nice cars, but they were just people. People who made mistakes like letting a tripped-out designer have free rein over their nursery, but people who could laugh at themselves too.

  After exchanging hugs and cell numbers and promises to keep in touch, Allie allowed Mark to guide her through the house with his hand on her lower back. The sensations he created with a simple touch were enough to send her mind into a fuzzy place. Within that fuzz, she believed that she belonged right where she was, with Mark, hanging out with their friends on a Saturday morning and not in her soon-to-be bug-free apartment.

  Chapter Seven

  “I have to say this one more time: I’m sorry about last night.” Mark glanced over at Allie. She’d had a funny look on her face—a reserved look like she was steeling herself against what was to come.

  “What part—sending me to a rat trap or hauling me out in my pajamas?”

  “Both!” He laughed.

  She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “It all worked out okay.”

  “Yeah, it did.” He’d gotten to spend the night under the same roof as this magnificent creature, Anthony cooked a mean waffle, and he had a beautiful woman sitting next to him. “What do you have planned for today?”

  She laced her fingers together and hooked her hand over her knee. “My apartment building is being fumigated, so I thought I’d hole up in a bookstore down the street until six when I can get back in.”

  Mark took that as an opening. “Would you consider helping me with a project?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “Sure.”

  “I need a baby gift for Anthony and Leticia and I have no idea what to get them. It’s been a long time since Chloe was a baby and I don’t want to get them a generic present.”

  She clapped her hands together. “That’s easy.”

  “It is?” Not for him. The gift had been in the back of his mind since they announced the pregnancy. Kate had a few ideas, but none of them seemed just right. Anthony was one of the few friends unspoiled by Jasmine’s advances. He’d turned her down twice and was the one who broke the news to Mark that she’d been unfaithful. He thought she’d been flirting and wouldn’t really go through with her advances with the director … until she did.

  “Yes—but you’ll have to go where few men have dared to tread.” She wiggled her fingers maniacally.

  “Where’s that?” Visions of baby showers and boutiques flashed through his head.

  “The fabric store. Mwa-ha-ha.”

  He handed her the phone. “I think I’ll be fine.”

  She put the info in and Siri had them turn at the next light. “If you say so.” Her eyes held a secret delight that delighted Mark. If this was her reaction to going to the fabric store, he’d gladly spend hours there.

  Mark had spoken much too soon.

  Forsyth Fabrics had row upon row of fabric in a warehouse-type building. The floor was blanketed with thin carpet and the walls were light cream. He stopped ten feet inside the door, clueless as to which direction they should go to find a baby blanket and why anyone would volunteer to come here in the first place. From the other side of the store, a child’s scream of frustration echoed off the ceiling.

  I feel your pain.

  Three gray-haired women pawed through a bin of rolled fabric labeled Ends. A harried woman in high heels compared two blue swatches, holding them up to the light and dropping them to the floor and sighing heavily. Two clerks in green aprons wielded shiny scissors under a sign that read “Cutting Table.” Another one worked the register. There wasn’t another guy in sight. Mark hunched his shoulders and pulled his baseball cap down.

  Laughing, Allie grabbed his arm and pulled him to the left. “You’ll get used to it.”

  “I don’t know if I want to.” He scurried to keep up with Allie’s excited quick-steps. “What exactly are we looking for?”

  Allie stopped at the far wall. Considering her options, she released his arm and ran her hand over the green shades of soft fabric. “Something that would make Leticia smile.”

  “She used to smile all the time.” Mark paused. “I think this baby is stressing her out. But she smiled this morning. You’re good for her.”

  “Thanks.” Allie shrugged modestly.

  Mark tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, his hand lingering. “You have that effect on people.”

  “I’m just me.”

  “You’re pretty.” He was going to say pretty great, but his voice died off when she leaned slightly into his palm.

  They maintained eye contact, the air buzzing between them, until Allie turned her attention back to the fabric. She ran her hand down a dark green.

  “Why do you touch them like that?”

  “How else are you going to know how the fabric feels against the skin?” she asked.

  Mark hadn’t run his hand down her cheek and he was pretty sure her skin would be the softest thing he’d ever touched. While he was busy imagining what would happen after that, Allie took his hand and placed it on a cream-colored bolt. He looked down at her, their bodies close enough he could smell those magnolias.

  “This is a cheap cotton.” Her voice took on an instructional tone. “It will do a fine job during construction, but will wear out quickly and is a little rough to touch.”

  He nodded, not wanting to interrupt the familiarity she’d taken with his personal space. She picked up his hand and moved them two bolts over. “This is a high-quality cotton. Can you feel the difference?”

  “I feel something,” he whispered.

  “Good,” she whispered back. Her hand shook as she moved him down the row. Had he caused that? “This is flannel—great for snuggling with baby.”

  “Snuggling’s good.” His voice had this husky quality he hadn’t intended.

  Allie trembled all over. She left his hand there and pulled a fuzzy fabric off the shelf. She looked over her shoulder in that way that he’d come to adore. Her hair sliding across her shoulders as she turned, all long and silky, and her eyes demure. She was too much for him. He tightened his grip on the fabric.

  “But if you want the softest, you use minkie.” She reached up and brushed the fabric across his cheek, just above his three-day growth. “See?” she breathed.

  He placed his hand over hers. “I like this.”

  “Fabric shopping is the best.” She didn’t move, just stared into his eyes, searching. He so badly wanted to be what she was searching for. She leaned in and her lids half closed, her lips parting slightly. Mark had been so caught up in realizing how much he wanted Allie that he w
as a half-second behind her. Leaning down, he transferred the fabric to one hand and used the other to pull her body flush against his. She fit nicely against him. Small as she was, he could throw her over his shoulder and run for miles. He was tempted to do just that. Instead, he breathed in her scent, the flowers tickling his senses.

  Their lips came together, hesitantly at first. Her fingertips skimming his neck and cheek until she gave herself over to the kiss.

  Mark had never experienced a kiss so true, so … pure. She left no doubt in his mind that she’d wanted to kiss him. Not Slade McCoy or any of the other parts he’d played, but him. The intensity of the moment had him gasping for air.

  Allie’s hand slid down to his shoulder and her forehead rested on his chin. Mark’s head spun with crazy thoughts. He couldn’t let this woman go—couldn’t let her leave his side, because she belonged there. Or rather, he belonged with her.

  “So that’s the basics about fabric for baby blankets.” She cleared her throat.

  She pushed the bolt of minkie between them and he grabbed hold out of reflex.

  “You’ll need coordinating fabric for the back and of course some silk binding.” She dropped items into his arms as she spoke.

  “Allie?” Mark followed behind her like a confused puppy. “Allie, I … we …”

  She whirled on him, her eyes glossy. “Don’t.”

  “But …” He groped for the words to express what surged inside.

  She held up her palm. “Please, don’t. I should have known better than to let that happen.”

  “Known better? That was—amazing.”

  She huffed out a breath. “This doesn’t happen for me.” She wagged her finger back and forth between them. “I’m not this lucky. Somehow, someway, it’s all going to end—don’t make it worse for me. Just let me have this and hold on to it without clogging it up with words.”

  Mark clenched his teeth together. Here he was, ready to pour his heart out, and she’d stopped up the flow. Grabbing her hand, he pressed her palm to his chest. A soft gasp escaped her slightly swollen lips. Something intense flared between them. What was happening, the attraction and need to be close, was happening crazy fast. He didn’t mean to frighten her off. With a little time, she’d realize he wasn’t some fly-by-night playboy. She was right about one thing: words could clog this up. Thankfully, he was a man of action.