Disclaimer: I do not own Passions, etc. This story is purely for entertainment purposes.

Chapter Thirty-Seven: "This Kind of Danger"

"This is it, Mother! The last straw. God, I have been so foolish!" Gwen exclaimed as she entered the foyer of her parents' home. Looking around her, she flailed her arms, accidentally knocking over a vase.

The sound of breaking glass filled Gwen with an unearthly sense of satisfaction and filled her mother with a sense of horror as Rebecca Hotchkiss came running into the foyer.

Rebecca's eyes widened as she saw the pieces of the vase on the ground. Gwen reached for another valuable decoration, but her mother stopped her.

"Temper, temper," Rebecca lightly admonished her daughter.

Gwen sighed and looked down at the pieces of glass, bent to pick them up, and, in the process, nicked her finger with a shard. As a tiny droplet of blood formed, Rebecca frowned. "That's why we have hired help." Crossing her arms, Rebecca said, "So tell me what's happened now."

"Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald strikes again."

"Then we strike back. It's that simple," Rebecca replied as she walked into the living room and lounged on the couch.

"No, Mother, there's nothing simple about that," Gwen said following her mother. "Nothing simple at all! Every time I turn around, they're together. Ethan and Theresa. Theresa and Ethan. Perhaps I could handle this if it were merely a physical attraction. But I see the love in Ethan's eyes when he looks at her; the love he should be showing when he looks at me, and I hate it! I hate her!"

Rebecca patted the cushion of the couch next to her, indicating she wished Gwen to have a seat. Dutifully, Gwen sat next to her mother.

"First thing you need to do is calm yourself. Tell me exactly what happened."

Gwen took a deep breath. "I decided to help baby matters along by surprising Ethan at his office. I thought it might be exciting to have a morning rendezvous, but apparently, someone had already beaten me to the punch."

"Theresa."

"Yes," Gwen hissed. "Theresa." The very sound of the woman's name was enough to make Gwen's stomach turn.

"When you showed up, how did they act?"

"They tried to tell me that nothing was going on, but I knew better. With Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald, there's always something going on. No doubt this morning she was trying to get to Ethan with the 'oh-poor-me-my-fiance's-dead' routine. Disgusting! And Ethan—well, he's just trusting enough to fall for it. He believes everything out of her mouth."

Rebecca's scratched her chin thoughtfully. "Not everything," she reminded her daughter. "It seems we made a miscalculation five years ago, but it's time to correct that. What we did put a bandage on the problem, but it didn't cure it. It's time to act more boldly."

"Mother, what do you mean?"

"What I mean is this: what goes around, comes around. And Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald is about to get hers."

Gwen sighed, fighting back the tears. "How can you be so sure?"

"Have I ever let you down? Just trust that Mother knows best."

Gwen gazed at her mother's features, which took on the slyness of a cat about to pounce on its prey. "When you say things like that, you worry me."

"The only one who should be worried is that whiny little gold-digger."

"I should've called. I just should've called," Theresa muttered to herself as she placed a swatch of fabric on a cutting table before returning to the front of the boutique.

The shipment to Milan was due to be sent in another three days, and she was still getting the samples together. That, on top of putting the finishing touches on Whitney's wedding gown, had made for a very busy few weeks.

She was annoyed with herself for even being consumed with thoughts of the past when there were so many things in the present that required her attention. She just couldn't help herself, though. She desperately wanted closure.

Theresa grimaced as she recalled the crestfallen look on Gwen's face. Regardless of how she felt about Gwen, she couldn't help but feel badly for her. Theresa knew what it was to invest so many hopes and dreams into one person….and be disappointed.

"Leave it to you to only make things worse."

Not only had she succeeded in hurting Gwen, but she'd also managed to bring Ethan's anger to the surface. What did he think she had done? It was about more than weaving a story about an imaginary boyfriend. But would she ever know what else was involved?

She knew it shouldn't matter, but it still did.

Hearing the door to the shop open, Theresa looked up and saw Whitney enter. Their eyes met, and Whitney immediately asked, "So…..how did it go?"

"It didn't," Theresa replied glumly.

"What do you mean?"

"Whit, I never should have gone. Now I've only made things worse!"

"Theresa, honey, what happened?" Whitney asked closing the gap between them.

"I showed up without calling or without being announced by his personal assistant. I was afraid that he wouldn't see me if he knew what I wanted. I tried to get him to open up to me and explain to me what had changed." She sighed. "I even told him about the dream I had. But looking into his eyes today, I was reminded of the look of recrimination and disgust he'd shown me five years ago. I'm no closer to understanding it now than I was then."

"So Ethan became angry with you?"

"Did he ever! The anger and pain in his eyes is something I don't think I'll ever forget. He was just about to tell me what had happened when Gwen showed up to surprise him. Instead, she was the one who ended up being surprised." Theresa shook her head before continuing, "Oh, Whit, she was so hurt by the fact that I was there! I know she thought it was some clandestine rendezvous, and I tried to tell her that nothing was going on…."

"But she wouldn't listen," Whitney supplied. It was a statement, not a question. "Can you blame her, Theresa? She has every reason to distrust you as it is, but because she keeps finding you in these situations with her husband…." Her voice trailed off. "Theresa, you must know that Gwen is going to retreat and lick her wounds, but when she comes back, she's going to come back with a vengeance."

"I—I know. Believe me. But you know what? It would be worth it just to know. How am I supposed to move forward when this is hanging over my head?"

Whitney sighed. "Theresa, it seems to me that Ethan is not the only thing that holds you back."

"What do you mean?" Theresa asked.

"What about Chuck?" Whitney asked.

Theresa's face clouded even more so than before. "I—I can't talk about that," she said turning away.

Whitney walked around her friend to face her. Taking Theresa's left hand, Whitney started, "Theresa, you still wear his ring. So you can't tell me that this fear of moving forward is all about Ethan. Sure, it's convenient to say that's about Ethan, but there's more to this."

Theresa looked at the diamond ring she still wore on her left hand. She couldn't imagine taking it off.

Whitney continued, "You don't want to deal with losing Chuck, so instead you fixate on how you lost Ethan. It's as though you think that correcting things with Ethan will make everything else fall into place."

"I am not fixated on Ethan! Whitney, until today, I never sought him out. I have tried to stay away. I truly have!"

"Regardless of how innocent all of this may be, it doesn't appear that way to Ethan's wife. You're doing Ethan and Gwen more harm than good."

"Well, it's not my fault if Gwen doesn't trust her husband."

Whitney looked at her friend in disbelief. "Uh—yes, it is. You're in love with Ethan, but you don't want to face it. Ethan's in love with you and doesn't want to face it. And Gwen sees all of this, as well as the fact that the relationship that she's shared with Ethan for the last fifteen years is in jeopardy. So it is your fault. At least, partly."

Theresa crossed her arms. "I don't know what you're talking about. I am not in love with Ethan, and Ethan is not in love with me!"

"Right. And zebras can change their stripes."

"Well, in this case, they most certainly can," Theresa replied defiantly.

"Open your eyes, Theresa. For once, see what's in front of you."

"I am seeing quite clearly, thank you very much."

"No, I don't think you are." Whitney took a deep breath. "How long have we been friends?"

"For as long as I can remember."

"Exactly. We've seen each other through the best and worst of times. I know how stubborn you can be. It's a Lopez-Fitzgerald trait, and most definitely something you have in common with Luis. But I also know that your stubbornness can get you into trouble. I seem to recall a certain little girl who used to refuse to drink her milk."

"Not the milk story!" Theresa groaned.

"Just bear with me. I still remember so vividly being at your house for dinnertime and how you used to refuse to drink your milk. Your mother would insist that you drink it, but you would cross your arms and refuse."

"Poor Mama. She should've known right then that I would be a handful," Theresa said smiling slightly as she remembered how Pilar would try to keep a stern look on her soft features.

"Oh, I think she was starting to get an idea," Whitney commented. "Well, I remember one night in particular when you refused to drink your milk. Then you got the bright idea that perhaps if you added orange Tang to the milk, that might make it more palatable."

Theresa wrinkled her nose at the memory.

"So when no one was looking, you went to the pantry, took out the Tang, and added some of the mixture to your milk. I told you not to do it, but you wouldn't listen. You were so proud of yourself, thinking that you had really pulled one over on your mother and Luis."

"And then Mama came in and saw what I'd done."

"Yes, but instead of getting angry with you, she told you to drink up." Whitney laughed. "Oh, the horror on your face when you took that first drink!"

"I'd never tasted anything so disgusting in my entire life! If I thought plain milk was bad…"

"And she stood over you while you had to drink the entire glass. But you had been determined to do it your way, regardless of what anyone else told you; no matter the consequences. And Theresa, I still see that same little girl before me now. Only this time, it isn't about mixing milk and Tang; it's about interfering with people's lives. Theresa, it's time to let go."

"I want to, Whit. I really do, but I don't know how."

"The first step, Theresa, is to concentrate on other things. Don't seek out Ethan. If you see him coming, walk the other way. If someone mentions his name, say to yourself, 'Ethan, who?'. I just don't want to see you fall into a nasty trap again."

"How can I when I don't know what happened to change things?"

"Will knowing change anything, Theresa? No. Ethan is still married to Gwen, and he will remain married to Gwen. Move on, Theresa. Just let go and move on."

Theresa opened her mouth to respond but stopped when she heard the door to the boutique open. In walked Drew Winthrop carrying two large packages.

Theresa tried to put on a happy face, but her intense conversation with Whitney made that a difficult feat. When Drew approached Theresa, he saw the worry line on her forehead and, without a word, leaned down and kissed it. He could feel some of the tension leave her body. With satisfaction, he looked into her luminous brown eyes, willing whatever was bothering her to go away.

"I'm glad you're here," she said simply.

She glanced at Whitney, who was none-too-pleased over the interruption.

"Oh, Whit, you haven't met Drew yet. Whitney Russell, this is Drew Winthrop."

Drew set his packages down and took Whitney's hand. "I feel as though I know you already," Drew said. "Theresa speaks of you often. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"It's nice to meet you, too," Whitney replied as she studied the handsome man. There was something vaguely familiar about him, just as both Chad and Theresa had said. Yet she couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. "Just promise me that you won't believe everything you hear," Whitney said shooting her friend a knowing look.

"I'll keep that in mind," Drew replied with mock seriousness.

Theresa sighed, knowing that Whitney was frustrated with her.

Drew fought the impulse to chuckle. Obviously, he had interrupted something big between the two, but he noticed that Theresa didn't seem too upset over the interruption.

"Well, I need to take off. Theresa, remember what I said. And Drew, once again, it was nice meeting you."

Theresa watched closely as her friend left. "Brrrrr," she said. "I'm glad you came when you did. It was getting a little too cold in here."

Drew smiled. "Fortunately for us, today it's unseasonably warm outside."

Theresa looked out the window wistfully. "Too bad I won't be able to enjoy it. I am up to my elbows with things to do," Theresa sighed. "So what brings you by today? Not that I'm complaining, but I'm surprised."

"Surprise is the spice of life," he said, pulling her close before kissing her.

Theresa felt her head swim. Drew always had that effect on her. "Mmmmm. I like surprises," she said with a grin on her face.

"Good," he said, intertwining his finger with hers. "Come play hooky with me today. We'll go to the park, have a picnic, go rollerblading….."

She groaned. "I would love to, but I can't. I have so much work to catch up on."

"There won't be many days like today left," he said. He swallowed hard, thinking about just how true his words were. Regardless of the fact that fall was upon them, Drew knew that more than likely, by the end of the week, he would have experienced his own fall in Theresa's eyes. "Besides, your work will still be here."

She looked around her and admitted to herself that she definitely could use the distraction. But there was still so much to do!

"You are such a bad influence on me," she sighed.

He circled her waist. "And you are such a good influence on me. Say yes, Theresa. Come with me."

"Drew, I…."

"Say yes, Theresa."

"I…"

"Say yes, Beauty."

She looked into his turquoise blue eyes and felt her resolve waning. Sighing, she replied, "How can I say no to you?"

So many things were changing. Theresa was finally going to meet Drew's family. When he'd asked her to join him at the Seascape for a family dinner, she'd teased him, "Oooh, so it's time to meet the parents. You know, Drew, this is a big step and a serious one. Are you sure you're ready to take that plunge?"

He'd merely replied, "I've been ready for this for a long time."

Theresa was excited at the prospect of meeting his family, and somewhat nervous, too. But she was determined to enjoy the rest of their day together. She would have the rest of the week to be nervous and anticipate the meeting. But to finally get a better understanding of what made the man tick was quite exciting.

Theresa laughed as Drew picked her up and took her down to the grass. Actually, she'd been laughing so hard the entire afternoon, her sides hurt. Drew Winthrop continually surprised her. Not only had he insisted that she play hooky with him, but he'd thought of everything. He brought with him food for the picnic, clothes for her to change into, as well as rollerblades for her to wear.

With the sun beating down on them, she propped her head on her elbow and looked at him as he lay lazily on the ground. She lightly traced his features with her fingertips. He was so handsome, and he made her feel things that she hadn't felt in a long time.

It should scare her, but it didn't.

"I used to think it was safe to be around you," she murmured.

Drew chuckled. "Safe isn't an adjective most people use to describe me. Actually, I always thought I was the kind of man that mothers warn their daughters about."

"I used to think that, too. That's why I considered you to be safe. I never saw myself becoming involved with someone like you. But that's just it. That wasn't the real you."

"So am I still safe?" he asked as he raised an eyebrow.

"No, I think you're dangerous," she said laying her head on his chest, "and I like this kind of danger."

Words escaped him.

After taking Theresa back to her boutique, Drew headed over to the Harmony Youth Center. Playing basketball always helped him to regain his focus. And though if anyone asked him he would deny it, he enjoyed spending time with the kids, as well.

Trying to work around Jamaal, Drew took a three point shot. It was their second game of one-on-one, and he hated to admit it, but he just didn't have the stamina that he once had as a fifteen year old boy. Yet he watched in satisfaction as the ball went through the hoop with ease. Baseball had always been his brother's favorite sport, but Drew had always excelled at basketball.

"Andrew?" a voice asked, tinged with surprise.

Drew turned to look at the woman standing on the side of the court.

"Hi Sheridan," he replied distractedly.

"I'm surprised to see you here," his aunt said absently rubbing her now-large stomach. That was an understatement, Sheridan thought. To see Andrew Crane playing basketball with a kid from the youth center was almost unthinkable. He had a reputation in the family for being concerned with one person: himself. And now he was giving his time at the center? How unlike him!

"Jamaal and I were just enjoying a little one-on-one basketball. I'm afraid he's running circles around me, though."

Sheridan nodded. "I'll let you get back to your game, but come by my office before you leave. I'd like to talk to you."

"Sure," Drew replied absently before turning his attention back to the teenage boy and their game.

As Drew walked into the youth center office, he noted that his aunt looked rather pale. The last few times he'd seen her, she fluctuated between looking worn out and radiant. This was one of her tiresome moments.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked.

Sheridan looked up from her paperwork. "I'm fine. The baby's just kicking a lot this afternoon. He definitely has his father's stubborn streak," she replied smiling weakly. As if to accentuate her point, the baby kicked once again. "Oh."

"May I?" he asked as he approached her.

She smiled slightly, touched by his desire to feel the kicking baby. "Sure." Sheridan took his hand and placed it over her belly.

Drew was filled with a sense of wonder when the baby made its presence known. "It's amazing, Sheridan!"

"I'm just ready for this little Lopez-Fitzgerald to hurry up and get here. I feel as big as a house!"

"How did you know you were in love?" Drew asked suddenly.

Sheridan smiled. "I don't know. I just…..knew. I couldn't imagine a life without Luis in it. But we certainly went through our trials." She stopped. "Where is this coming from?"

Drew shrugged. "I was just curious."

"I didn't expect to see you here today."

"Yes, I know. I could tell by your expression. It was the 'what is Drew up to now' expression."

"Am I that transparent?" Sheridan asked.

"Well, we have known each other for a long time."

"And you have seen that look from me enough times," Sheridan said smiling.

Her relationship with Andrew was quite different from her relationship with Ethan. With Ethan, she shared a camaraderie and common views. Yet Andrew was so different. Much more like a typical Crane male, Sheridan thought. Yet his behavior today was anything but typical.

"More times than I care to remember," he replied. "I still don't know why you were here today."

"To play basketball, of course," he replied flippantly.

Sheridan sighed. "Just when I think that you might be turning serious on me, you show me once again that you are still the irrepressible Andrew Crane."

"I will always be irrepressible. I don't think that's a character flaw. Believe me, I have enough character flaws to know the difference. I guess I've just started to realize that there's more out there than my own wants."

"Now you're starting to sound more like Ethan."

Drew's voice grew harsh. "Let's not go there. I wouldn't want to infringe upon his perfection. See you later, Sheridan."

Stepping out the shower, Drew wrapped himself in a towel and walked through the living room of his hotel suite to the kitchenette.

He could use a drink.

He'd never expected matters to become so complicated; yet they had.

How could he follow through with what he planned? Yet how could he not? Everything was so perfectly in place.

He wasn't used to this business of having a guilty conscience.

Opening the refrigerator, he eyed a bottle of rare wine from his family's private stock that he had swiped from the wine cellar of his parents' home, a can of beer, and bottle of water. Weighing his choices carefully, he opted for the beer before closing the fridge.

He walked back through the living room and was headed to his bedroom to put on his clothes when he heard a light rapping on the door.

"Figures," he muttered.

Walking to the door, he opened it.

"Hello, Stranger," the woman purred.

Drew examined her, realizing that he knew her from somewhere. But where? Oh, yes. He'd met her when he first came back to Harmony and they shared some good times together. What was her name?

The look of confusion must have shown on his features because she added, "It's me. Heather."

"Yes. Of course. What are you doing here?"

She looked him up and down, taking in the sight of a wet, gorgeous man clad in only a towel. Tiny droplets of water were still running down his muscular chest and cut abdomen. Unconsciously, she licked her lips.

Heather let herself in, walking past him and looking at their posh surroundings. "I thought I would take a chance," she replied in a low voice.

"On what?"

"On you, of course. I haven't forgotten about the last night we spent together."

Horror filled Drew's mind. Could this woman he barely knew be pregnant with is child? "You're not…."

She shook her head. "Oh please! Of course not. We were very careful. No, I'm here for an entirely different reason altogether."

Drew was growing impatient with her. "And what might that reason be?"

She pressed her body against his. "I'm here to continue what we started that night."

Theresa smiled as she walked down the hallway toward Drew's hotel suite. The day had started so inauspiciously, but had become much better as it progressed, largely due to Drew. She'd managed to finish her work earlier than she thought she would, motivated largely by a desire to see the man that was slowly, but surely, creeping into her heart.

She still marveled at how he had come into her life when he did. Yes, fate could be good to her.

Rounding the corner as she approached his suite, she could hear voices. One of the voices was his and the other was a voice she didn't recognize; the voice of a woman.

She knew she should allow him to have his conversation in private, but curiosity got the better of her. Besides, the door to his suite was open.

Drew gently took her arms and pushed her away. "Heather, we both agreed that it was a one time deal."

"We can change that, though."

Theresa's image filled his mind. "No, we can't. I've met someone that I really care about."

"She doesn't have to know," Heather pointed out.

He shook his head. "But I would know. And that just isn't worth it to me."

Heather frowned. "I don't believe it! You're nothing like I thought you were. What's happened to you?"

"I think I've finally come to my senses," Drew replied. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have things I need to take care of."

Heather shook her head. "Your loss. I hope she's worth it."

"She is."

Theresa watched as the woman left Drew's suite, and the door closed behind her. It gave her a strange feeling to think that he had been with her.

But he just turned her down because of you, she reminded herself.

She walked to the door and lifted her hand to knock. Gathering her courage, she touched her knuckles to the wood and waited.

A moment later, Drew opened the door, still wearing only the towel and a vexed expression.

Theresa's eyes widened at the sight of him. She always knew that he was a handsome man-a sexy man-but she never knew just how handsome or how sexy he was.

His expression melted to relief when he saw it was Theresa.

"I know I probably should have called, but I really wanted to see you."

He reached out and gently touched her hair. "I'm glad you're here. Please come in."

"Thank you," she replied as she walked into the suite. They'd spent some time there, but not much. Whenever they were together, they typically were either at her house or out and about town.

"I just got out of the shower a few minutes ago. I was on my way to get dressed."

"No hurry," Theresa chirped. Immediately, she slapped her hand over her mouth. Did she just say that out loud?

Drew laughed lightly and kissed her on the forehead.

She looked up into his eyes, and her heart pounded. His nearness was intoxicating. Stepping back she said, "I'm sorry. I can't believe I just said that."

"No apologies necessary, Beauty."

With that, she watched as he disappeared into his bedroom to get dressed. A part of her wished she were in there with him.

When he emerged a couple of minutes later, he had pulled on a pair of khaki pants and a plain white t-shirt. As he moved, she could still see the muscles in his chest. Yes, she decided that Drew Winthrop could definitely wear a t-shirt well.

She couldn't believe the thoughts she was having about him. Yet apparently, she thought ruefully, she wasn't alone in those thoughts. Other women felt the same as she did.

Sitting next to Theresa on the couch, Drew put his arm around her. "This is a nice surprise."

"I had such a wonderful time today. I just wanted to see you again and tell you. You always know how to make me feel better."

"Something happened earlier?"

"I did something that backfired on me. I don't know what, if anything, will come from it, but it was on my mind, and you helped to take it away."

"Glad to be of service," he responded, cupping her face and lightly running his thumb over her lips.

"I need…"

But her words were cut off by his kiss. As his lips possessed hers, she knew that she very easily could lose herself in him. His kissed were hot, intoxicating, and left her breathless—wanting more.

She broke away from his kiss abruptly.

Breathing heavily, he asked, "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I need to talk to you. Drew, I—I heard you talking to that woman."

Drew silently cursed as he felt his heart begin to pound. Would she even want to see him anymore? The very thought of that possibility gave him a horrible, sinking feeling.

"Theresa, I'm sorry."

She held her fingertips up to his lips "There's nothing to be sorry for. When I first met you, I knew that there were women in your past."

He took her hand in his. "I didn't know she would show up here."

"I know. But I also heard you send her away—because of me."

"Theresa, you make me want to be a better man. Hell, you make me want a lot of things that I've never wanted before."

"Like what?"

"A home. A family—not like the one I had growing up—but a real family. You make me wish I were more like my brother; more responsible, more loyal. And—I can't believe I'm saying this—but you make me want to love and be loved. My old life….it just isn't good enough anymore. I want more. I want you."

His lips found hers, but this time his kiss was not demanding. It was tender, almost as though he was afraid he would break her if he weren't careful.

Yet his tender kiss left her feeling an even greater tumult of emotions. Was it possible to feel so many things at once?

"Just when I think that you couldn't possibly find another way to surprise me….," she said as she rested her head against his chest and sighed contentedly. "I'm still amazed that you came into my life when you did. And I simply think that you are amazing and wonderful. You show me everyday that being with someone doesn't have to hurt—and it doesn't have to be about lies. I've never known anyone like you, Drew Winthrop."

She felt him become tense.

"I'm not who you think I am, Theresa."

She looked up at him, confusion in her eyes. "What do you mean?"

He took a deep breath. "There's something you should know."