Read Online What Family Means by Geri Krotow - Free Book Online

had to tell him, but she felt it should be in person.
    At the right moment.
    Hopping a flight to Iraq was out of the question, so she might have to compromise on the “in person” part.
    Present Day
Buffalo, New York
Debra

    T HE NEXT MORNING Will came in before I’d had a chance to start work in my studio. My exhibit was ever present in my mind and I had some finishing touches to research. I’d planned a display of my different artwork over the years, with black-and-white photos of historical events as backdrops to each piece.
    “Debra?” His voice found me upstairs in the oversize reading chair we kept in the alcove off our master bedroom. After all this time, I still felt a little shiver of delight at the sound of his voice.
    My girlfriends and I agreed that business trips help keep the home fires burning. We had friends, couples, who’d slipped into such a predictable pattern that they didn’t appreciate each other any longer. The respect died, and its bitter embers fueled resentment and loathing.
    “Up here.”
    I quickly cleared off my lap and shoved the baby book under the chair. Will never took well to my reminiscing. He assumed it meant I was not happy in the present.
    Nothing could be further from true. I was just looking for some photos of Angie wearing the outfits I’d finally dug out—after I got over finding Teddy’s scarf.
    The hallway floorboards creaked under Will’s steps. He was a large man, but still lean and graceful on his feet. He’d never been a star athlete but his twice-weekly tennis games with colleagues, combined with our weekend hikes, kept him trim.
    And sexy as hell.
    “Hey, have you been waiting for me?” The twinkle in his eyes sent a tickle through my belly.
    “Always, dear,” I answered demurely.
    We met each other halfway across the carpeted room. I closed my eyes before his lips touched mine. He gave me his usual I’m-home-dammit-and-I-want-you kiss before enveloping me in his large arms.
    I rested my head against his shoulder, accessible due to his half-bent position, inhaling the scent that was Will.
    I squeezed him tighter. This was when I felt the best with Will. When we were alone, just us, and none of life’s potential ugliness had a chance to intrude.
    We’d learned to put differences aside if we wanted to keep our sex life healthy. There’d always be time for talking and rehashing different points of view.
    “What have you been doing this morning?” His gaze took in the still-open chest at the foot of the bed, with knitted sweaters, socks, mittens and afghans strewn everywhere.
    “I’ve been going through my treasures, thinking about our future grandkids—and the art exhibit.” I fingered a mohair cap. “Just looking for a little inspiration.”
    “Obviously I’ve been gone too long.” He smiled as he observed that his side of our king-size bed was heaped with skeins of yarn and pattern books.
    “Yes, you have. You’re going to be a grandparent!” I grinned at his expression. Bemusement mixed with awe, giving him a vulnerable look.
    “Yes, I am. We are.” He tugged off his tie and went to the walk-in closet. “Did you have anything planned for dinner tonight?”
    “Not really. There’s some stew I froze last week after we had the kids over. I can heat that up and make a quick salad.” When we were younger and Will was gone, I’d often whipped up a gourmet meal for his return. But more recently we both preferred lighter, simpler fare.
    “How about I take you out, Grandma?” The laugh that followed his query echoed from the closet.
    “How about you let our grandchild call me Grandma?”
    He laughed again and came back into the bedroom. He’d changed into black jeans and a casual burnt-orange button-down shirt. The color reflected superbly off his still-smooth coffee skin.
    “Hey, handsome.” I lifted the hem of my knit top. “Wanna play before you take a nap?”
    His hands were on the flat of my belly, the curve of my back, his lips on