“Yes?” She knew he was going to ask her something, and he laughed at her clairvoyance.

“I was going to ask you a question, but I wasn't sure if I should.”

“What about? Am I a virgin? Yes, actually I am.”

“Thank God.” He heaved a sigh of relief. “I hate women who aren't virgins.”

“So do I.”

He grinned. “In that case …would you like to spend the night? You can sleep in the guest room if you really want to.”

It was silly, she had her own place just across the complex. But she was tempted to stay with him anyway. It was so lonely at her place, with only one lamp to light the room. There was no point, she kept telling herself, in buying furniture if she was going to sell the condo. And Bill's guest room was like a warm, cozy haven, just like him, a place where she could hide from the pressures of the world, and enjoy the warmth of his presence. “It seems a little silly, doesn't it?” she asked sheepishly. “I should probably go home.”

“I just thought …” He looked sad for a moment. “It's going to be lonely without the boys tonight.” She knew it would, and she wanted to be there for him. “We could make popcorn and watch old movies on TV.”

“Sold. I accept.” She smiled shyly at him. She loved being with him, but he pretended to look serious as he asked another question.

“From a marketing standpoint, would you mind telling me what swung your decision? Was it the popcorn or the old movies? Maybe I ought to know, just in case I want to convince you again someday.”

She laughed easily at him. “It was the popcorn. And a free breakfast tomorrow morning.”

“Who said anything about breakfast?” he teased with a blank stare.

“Be nice, or I'll make you lasagna …with vanilla!”

“I was afraid of that. The Vanilla Virgin, now there's a great title for a new show … or maybe just one episode …what do you think?” He turned and stood very close to her as they walked into the living room and her voice was very soft as she answered.

“I think you're wonderful.”

He put his arms around her again and kissed her gently on the neck. “I'm glad to hear it … I think I love you. …” But she knew she loved him. She had known it for weeks, ever since she had woken up in the hospital in Truckee, and he told her he loved her and her baby. And it was odd talking about it with him now. He seemed to know so much more about pregnancy and babies than she did. It was comforting in a way, and she was coming to depend on him, and love the idea of having him near her. “What do you say we watch TV in my room tonight?” he inquired. He had a huge set in his room, and he and the boys used to pile into his bed at night and watch it. She had joined them several times, on nights when she was staying in the guest room, but it was different now that they were gone, and it was a little strange at first, getting on his bed with him, and being there alone with him, but she had to admit that she loved it.

She settled back against the cushions on the bed, and he flicked the television on with the remote, and then left the room to make the popcorn, and she didn't follow. She sat there, thinking about him, about how much he meant to her, and how drawn to him she was. It was odd feeling sexual about a man who wasn't your husband when you were almost five months pregnant. But she did. She was extremely attracted to him, and not entirely sure how to show it.

“Popcorn!” he announced, arriving moments later with a huge metal bowl from the kitchen. The popcorn was still hot and it was buttered and salted to perfection.

“This is terrific,” she grinned, cuddling next to him as he flipped the dial via the remote to a channel that showed only old movies. There was an old Cary Grant movie on, and Adrian insisted that he leave it. “I love this,” she smiled happily, nibbling at the popcorn, and he moved closer to her and gently kissed her.

“So do I,” he said, and he really meant it. She was his best friend, and there was more to it as well. He found that he couldn't stop kissing her, as she nibbled at the popcorn and pretended to watch the movie. She was lying back against the pillows on his bed, her vision of the television obscured, and she found that she didn't care, as she kissed him back, and a passion rose in her that she had never known, as he whispered to her, “Are you on the pill?” and then she started to laugh and kissed him again.

“Yes, I am,” she whispered back. There was humor and love and laughter between them, but they both grew more serious again as their passion rose, and the romance of Cary Grant was forgotten. He set the bowl of popcorn down, and turned off the light and turned to her again. She was so beautiful, and so sexy and so gentle. She was still wearing the free-flowing peach dress she had worn to take the boys to the airport, and he unbuttoned it slowly, as she slipped searching hands under his sweater. Their lips touched and parted and touched again, and he seemed to be devouring her with kisses, and finally, they lay naked in each other's arms and he forgot himself and all caution as they joined and made love as her body hummed beneath his hands, and the two of them became one, and they seemed to lie together for hours, bringing each other ecstasy and pleasure.

Neither of them had any idea what time it was when they finally lay side by side, kissing still, and whispering in the darkness.

“You're so beautiful,” he said, and then touched her face with his hands again, and let his fingers trace slowly downward. She had a lovely body, and even now it was easy to see how slim and lithe she must be when she wasn't pregnant. “Are you all right?” He was suddenly afraid he might have hurt her or the baby. For a moment, he had forgotten all about it, but she only smiled and kissed his neck and his lips, touching his powerful chest with her hands. He made her feel happy and safe and protected.

“You're wonderful.” Her eyes shone with her love for him, and as he looked at her, mesmerized by her, his hands felt the soft roundness of her belly, and then she frowned suddenly and looked at him oddly. “Did you do that?”

“What?”

“I don't know …something …I'm not sure what it was …”It had felt like a flutter and at first she thought it was his hands, but they hadn't moved, and then suddenly they both knew what it was at the same moment. She had felt the baby move for the first time. It was as though the baby had finally come alive from their loving. It was his baby now, and theirs, because he wanted it, and he loved her.

“Let me feel it.” He put his hands on her again, but he couldn't feel anything, and then for an instant he thought he did, but it was still very small, and the movements were so slight, they were hard to feel. He pulled her close to him instead, feeling the swell of her against him, and then holding her full breasts in his hands. He loved everything about her. It was odd getting to know her this way, in a state of transition. This was the only way he knew her, and he felt bound to the baby somehow, as though it were his too. It seemed so much a part of her, and he wanted to share it with her.

He covered her carefully with his sheets and the blanket and they lay there together, snuggling, whispering, talking, dreaming, and talking about the baby.

“It's so funny,” he confessed, vaguely hearing the voice of Cary Grant somewhere in the distance. They had forgotten all about the popcorn and the movie. “I feel as though the baby is part of me now. I don't know … it brings back all kinds of familiar feelings and memories, all that excitement I felt before Adam and Tommy were born … I find myself thinking about buying a crib, helping you set up the room, being there when it's born, and then I have to remind myself to go slow …that it isn't mine …” he said regretfully. But he wanted it to be. Even though he had just made love to her for the first time, he wanted that very badly.

“I was so lost before you came along. I was so lonely.” She looked at him with serious eyes, worried about what he felt. “You really don't mind about the baby? I feel so fat and ugly sometimes.”

He chuckled softly in the bed they had made theirs. “That, my love, is going to get a lot worse before it gets better. You are going to blow up like a balloon, and I'm going to love it. You're going to be so big and cute, and we're going to have such a good time with the baby.”

“Silly.” She winced at the thought of becoming enormous. It was something she hadn't really thought about and almost dreaded. Her thighs already felt twice the size they had been two months before, and her breasts seemed huge compared to what they normally were. She was usually very small, and suddenly she was very full-busted. All the changes seemed so strange and foreign to her, and yet at the same time, she was excited about the baby. And she could hardly believe that he was too. It was a miracle beyond belief that she had found him.

“It seems poetic justice somehow,” he said, grinning as he sat up in bed and looked down at her, “that I should get involved with a woman who is four and a half months pregnant. I have been involved with more anorexic models and bulemic actresses than anyone deserves in one lifetime, and suddenly here I am with a woman I love, in full bloom, and any minute you're not going to be able to see your sneakers.”

“You're terrifying me. Is there anyway to avoid turning into a blimp?” she asked with worried eyes, and he leaned down and kissed her again.

“Absolutely none. It's a beautiful gift. Just enjoy it.”

“But will you still love me when I'm huge?” It was a familiar wail to any man whose wife had been pregnant.

“Of course. Wouldn't you love me if I were the one with a baby inside me?”

She laughed at the idea, but he made it sound so natural that it didn't seem so frightening suddenly. He did that with everything. With Bill, everything became normal and easy and simple. “Yes, I would.” She smiled up at him, cozy in his bed.