My Best Friend's Baby by Lisa Plumley

could she stand in the way of that?
    She couldn't.
    And she couldn't forget her vow to give her
baby a loving home with two loving parents, either. Buck up ,
she told herself. He's just a man. You can resist him .
    Suddenly, Chloe found new sympathy for
Nick's what'shernames.
    He reached out and tousled her hair.
"Hungry? How ‘bout some grub, blondie?"
    "Sure," she said, feeling her spirits
plummet even further as his hair-tousle turned into a brotherly
shoulder punch. "Lead the way, galloping gourmet."

     
    Poor Bruno , Nick thought later. Poor, doomed, besotted Bruno . How had he faced temptation
like this and survived?
    Maybe fortitude like that was what made a
man a marine.
    He and Chloe had finished the pasta
puttanesca , polished off the better half of the bruschetta , and moved the party onto his back patio. Out
here beneath the clear dark skies and bright stars of early summer,
Nick could almost believe it was a night like any other they'd
spent together. The pink bougainvillea bloomed along the backyard
fence the same as they ever had. The cicadas chirped just as
constantly beyond that fence, and the citronella candles burned
just as lemony-sharp on the wrought iron table between them.
    The difference was, this dark night felt
intimate in a way it never had before. And he'd never before been
forced to watch Chloe savor a dish of vanilla ice cream with
strawberries, bite by slow shivery bite, like he'd been doing for
the past ten minutes. It was enough to make a guy yearn to be a
soup spoon.
    "This is so good, Nick," she said for
what had to be the fifth time, turning over the spoon to lick a
strawberry remnant from the tip. "Yum, yum, yum."
    Yeah ... yum.
    The piece of strawberry disappeared between
her lips. Reminded of the tomato he'd nibbled up earlier, Nick
shifted in his chair and tried not to think of what an insane move
he'd made with that . "Glad you like it."
    Curled up in a patio chair beside him, Chloe
spooned up the last of the ice cream from the big plastic bowl on
her lap. Licking her lips, she let her spoon clatter back in
place.
    "Every bit as delicious as the first bite,"
she announced, swabbing her finger leisurely around the bowl. When
she popped her finger into her mouth and sucked off the creamy
vanilla, Nick knew he couldn't take any more.
    "Wanna watch a movie?" he blurted out,
taking the empty bowl from her lap as he stood. "I rented Norgon's
Revenge."
    "Another monster flick?" Chloe asked,
grinning and shaking her head. "I swear, Nick, you're a little boy
trapped in a man's body."
    Just as she got up from her chair, Nick
passed in front of her with his arm outstretched, headed for the
patio door. They wound up nose to nose. Or, more accurately—since
Chloe was a few inches shorter than he was—forehead to chin.
    "Oh! Whoops," she said, teetering. He put
his hand out to steady her, then sidestepped out of the way. So did
she—in the same direction.
    "Sorry," Chloe said, laughing when they
found themselves pressed even closer together than before. "I'm a
little wobbly these days."
    Her hand went to his upper arm, holding onto
him as she explained something about hormones, pregnant ligaments,
and other medical trivia items he didn't quite catch. Her fingers
stroked up and down his arm, making it impossible to concentrate on
anything except the feel of Chloe touching him. Nick had the
stupid, nonsensical urge to flex his biceps, to sweep her off her
feet ... to show her he could be every bit as manly as the Brunos
she was so enraptured with.
    He ought to go inside, get away, leave
things as they were between them. Chloe had Bruno now, and to hear
her talk of him, he'd been all she'd ever wanted in a man, even if
things were temporarily off—kilter between them. She didn't need
that mucked up with tomato nibbling and soup spoons and kissing.
Not when she'd found herself a man ‘too special' to talk about,
even with her best friend.
    Friend, schmiend , the rebellious part
of his soul