Free Maybe This Time by Joan Kilby Page B

way.”
    He wished it didn’t have to be this way, too. He’d give anything to turn back the clock if only he knew how. He would even go on that damn picnic if it meant he could do over that day and Holly would still be alive.
    “Don’t say anything.” His voice turned gruff. Something—nostalgia, again?—made him lean in and kiss her on the cheek. Feeling her soft skin beneath his lips, breathing in the clean scent of her, he wanted to slide his hands inside her silky blouse—the one he’d given her that Christmas—and feel the heat of her body. He wanted to angle his face and put his mouth on hers and deepen the kiss.
    But he didn’t. If the past wasn’t enough to stop him, now he had the future child to deter him, as well. There could be no going back for him and Emma, no second chance. He would not touch her or kiss her or any of the things his body was begging him to do.
    “I’ll see you.” When, he had no idea. He made himself step back, turn the door handle and leave. Walking away from her right that minute felt like one of the hardest things he’d ever done.
    He punched the button on the elevator at the end of the hall. Damn thing must be broken. The light seemed to be stuck two floors above on five. He hit the button again. If he had to stand here one more second, he might turn around, take her in his arms and make the second biggest mistake of his life—the first being sleeping with her after their divorce.
    But he wouldn’t. Seeing the nursery had brought up sad memories, but it had also reminded him that sex had consequences. Like careless teenagers he and Emma had been caught. Hopefully they were both smart enough not to compound their mistake by thinking they could get together again.
    The elevator still wasn’t moving. He spun on his heel and pushed through the emergency door to the stairwell. His footsteps echoed off the concrete walls as he clattered down and down.
    The days of wine and roses and Latin dancing were truly over.
    * * *
    E MMA CLOSED THE DOOR behind Darcy. Dissatisfaction nagged at her, but it was worse than a near-miss sexual encounter. It had been a near-miss emotional connection. She’d wanted so badly for him to hold her close the way he used to, and tell her he loved her and that everything would be all right. She craved it so badly, it scared her.
    Instead he’d retreated. No doubt he’d done so out of honorable intentions. She could picture each step he took away from her. Fifteen paces to the stairwell—because he would be too impatient to wait for the elevator once he’d found out how slow it was—then down three floors and out to the lobby. Another ten paces and he would be out of the building, heading to his truck.
    With every step he took away from her, the tug in her chest grew. She wanted to run after him and beg him to come back. Was she wrong to want the father of her child and the love of her life to love her and love their baby? Maybe this pregnancy was a sign that they should try again. Maybe the joy a baby brought would lift them out of their impasse and set them on the path to a brighter future—together.
    Yet even as she longed to reunite with Darcy, she knew it would be a terrible mistake. He didn’t want a role in the baby’s life. He hadn’t even protested when she’d said she wouldn’t name him as the baby’s father. That proved how detached he was. It was wrong and sad. Even though he hadn’t been a hands-on father with Holly there had never been any doubt he loved her.
    Emma stroked a hand over her belly. If only he could love this baby. She pictured him holding her and pressing his hand on her stomach to feel the baby move, love in his eyes and in his smile. Talking about baby names, planning where to live. They’d always dreamed of building their own home, somewhere with a big yard and lots of trees—
    But it wasn’t going to happen. She was being weak, giving in to wishful thinking. She would only make herself unhappier by