Sinking into the warm water, Bobbie let out a satisfied sigh. Laura had sworn a long bubble bath would be just the thing to relax her and allow her time to figure out what to do. "Fill the tub, lock the bathroom door, play good music, ordinarily I would suggest a glass of wine but in your case I'll go with sparkling cider, and just let your mind wander." Her sister-in-law advised. "All my best ideas come from a long soak in the tub."

The only part of Laura's advice Bobbie had ignored was locking the bathroom door. There was no need. Cruz had made it clear he wasn't about to cross over this threshold without her begging him to. At least she was reasonably sure that was what he had meant. Leaning her head against the back of the tub, she closed her eyes and tried to inhale the calming scent of lavender. The packaging of the bath salts had promised the scent would free her mind from her troubles. The package lied.

There was no escape. Every time she closed her eyes, she was haunted by the wounded look in Cruz's eyes. His accusations of this being exactly what she wanted echoed, even when she slept. He had been right. He just wanted to love her and she kept him at arm's length. And eventually he did exactly what she feared: he woke up and left her.

Was there some strand in the Spencer DNA that caused them to self-destruct in relationships? Some intrinsic coding that made them capable of the most spectacular messes with no help from third parties? Luke, Carly, Patrick, Lucky, Lulu, herself, Lucas. They all could make colossal asses out of themselves and all related to love.

What should she do? How could she fix this? How did you convince the man you love that you do love him, when your every act prior seemed to scream the opposite? Her ears pricked at a faint sound. Bobbie reached over to lower the volume on the CD player to listen more closely. There it was again. It sounded like someone was trying to open the door. Which was ridiculous. Her hormones were causing auditory hallucinations. But she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was trying to come in.

As he tried the handle a second time, he was struck with familiarity. It had been a while since he had been here, so long in fact that he hadn't realized he still had a key. If he hadn't been in such a rage the last time they spoke, he probably would have remembered to give it back to her. Thank God he hadn't; otherwise, he would have had to hope she would open the door for him, something that, at this point, was very unlikely. He would have to keep his head about him or he might leave her with mixed signals yet again.

What if he had finally reached the point of no return? Jamming the key into the lock, he turned it counterclockwise and pushed the door open, listening for signs of life. The bathroom faucet was switched off, he realized, and lightened his steps to keep from making even the slightest noise. What if it wasn't Bobbie upstairs? What if someone had broken in? Why was he always put in situations where he was doomed to get hurt? Oh well. If there was someone upstairs, someone who didn't belong, he would kick their ass. Yeah, he could do the macho thing. Sure. The door slammed behind him and he jumped a foot in the air.

"Who's there?" Bobbie voice floated down the stairs. "Patrick? Lucky? Lulu?"

He couldn't ignore how frightened she sounded and thanked God that he got to play the role of the protector, instead of the other way around. Taking the steps two at a time, he followed her voice into the bathroom and threw the door open without a second thought. She had a loofah in one hand and a bottle of hair conditioner in the other. "Were you going to lather me to death?" Cruz teased, tilting his head as he fought back the chuckle building at the base of his throat.

"Cruz?" She blinked in confusion. What was he doing here? The relief she had felt wash over her as his lean form entered the bathroom became mixed with outrage. She threw the loofah at his head. "You scared me to death!"

Cruz ducked to avoid the offensive bath sponge, but it smacked him across the forehead anyway. Wiping his hand over his skin, he smiled back at her. "Not quite the reaction I was going for." He admitted, though he should consider himself very lucky that she hadn't had a gun. Crazy Spencers.

"What are you doing here?" she questioned. Bobbie had been convinced he wouldn't willingly set foot in this house again and here he was. As he leaned closer, she caught the scent of alcohol on his breath. "Are you drunk?"

"No." He shook his head vehemently. "Well not as drunk as I was. I'm a lot more sober than your nephews. I had to see you. I was worried you might, I don't know, not hear me out if I waited until the morning." Cruz wanted desperately to shut up, but he couldn't stop the words from spilling from his lips.

"I thought you said everything you wanted to say the other day." She wasn't strong enough to hear him break her heart even more. Why did he have to show up, looking so gorgeous, when she wasn't ready for him? True, she hadn't done much planning on how to win him back, but being caught unaware in her bathroom was not part of the scenario she had in mind.

"Yes. That's true. That's what I needed you to think." But now you can't run away, he said to himself. Now you're stuck until I've convinced you that we're perfect for each other.

"You're not making much sense. Maybe you should wait till the morning. When you aren't still feeling whatever it is you're drinking."

"You want to know what I'm feeling?" Cruz asked in a defeated tone. He crouched down next to the bathtub and reached for Bobbie's hand. When she didn't back away from him, he rested her palm over his heart. "Empty."

"Baby..." Her voice cracked.

"No, don't interrupt." Cruz urged, pressing a finger to her lips. "I need to tell you how much I love you and you're not going to change my mind."

Bobbie nodded, concentrating on the words coming out of his lips and trying very hard to ignore how good it felt to have him touch her again.

"That night I got the call from the hospital...that was the worst night of my life." Cruz told her, deciding that he might as well start from the beginning. "It took two hours to get to the hospital and then no one knew what was going on. When I found you in that bed, you looked like an angel. Dr. Quartermaine explained that you were going to be just fine, you and the baby, but I went ahead and called Dr. Lansing just to be sure. He told me the same thing."

"I told you that you were being ridiculous that night." Bobbie smiled at the memory.

"All I could think about was that meeting we had had with him...all the complications he mentioned. I need you to know that, had it come down to one of you, I wouldn't have hesitated..." He closed his eyes, no longer able to look at her. "I would have chosen you. I know you decided early on that my involvement was solely because of the baby...that I felt obligated. I have never felt that way about either of you. Do I want to be a good father? With all of my heart. But if that means costing myself you in the process--" He broke off, wiping at an unwelcome wave of tears. "My timing was bad, asking you to marry me in the hospital, so I can't blame you for saying no."

Bobbie couldn't speak. She wiped furiously at the tears that filled her eyes. She wanted to say anything to match the beautiful words that were coming from his mouth, but she couldn't find any.

"And I realized how uncomfortable the prospect must have made you. I mean, the way that we were found out. It wasn't exactly picture-perfect. I know I've cost you a lot where your family is concerned." Cruz was finally able to meet her eyes.

"They love you. It was strange at first, but I didn't give my family enough credit. I should have listened to you." She managed to whisper.

"Good. That's just what I was about to say. You should have more faith in me." He mocked her softly, tucking a loose strand behind her ear, his hand lingering on the side of her face.

"Don't go getting a swelled head on me there." She joked, trying to hold back her tears.

"I'm sorry about the custody papers. You just had me worried. If you could just try pretending that you're not so much better without me, I'd appreciate it." Cruz whispered just as his lips found her collarbone. He could barely make out the scent of lavender and something sweeter, something that was unmistakably Bobbie Spencer.

"But I'm not. I don't know how you managed it, but I'm a mess without you."

"Can you forgive me?" He asked, knowing her answer would either prompt him to kiss her or leave altogether.

Looking straight into his brown eyes, she could feel herself drowning in them happily. "Only if you forgive me for being such a ninny."

"I don't know. It might take a little stroking...erm ego stroking." Cruz told her, brushing his lips over hers in a kiss that was no more rushed than it was awkward.

"That could be arranged." Bobbie used his comfortable position to her advantage, pulling him into the tub with her. "Oops." she smiled slyly. "Looks like you're all wet."

"Oh, you think you're clever?" Cruz challenged, his eyebrows rising ever so slightly. Without waiting for her response, he peeled off his shirt, stepped out of his pants, and removed the rest of his clothing before climbing into the Jacuzzi-sized tub with her.

"It worked didn't it?" She shot back.