by Regan Black
“Yes, actually. Caleb was asking for more details about you and me at West Point. I got the impression he’s thinking about asking someone out.”
“Good for him,” Matt said, his lips tilting into a sexy smirk.
She experienced a bolt of protectiveness, thinking about her little boy diving into the dating pool. And here she thought she was a progressive kind of mother.
“What was that?” Matt wagged a finger in the direction of her face.
“Nothing.” She hid behind her wine glass.
“Bethany,” he coaxed, laughter in his eyes. “Talk to me.”
He’d always been such an attentive listener. She’d done this parenting thing alone for so long that breaking the old habits and patterns was harder than she expected. “You have no reason to believe me, but Caleb was probably three or four before I got over the urge to call you about every little thing.”
Based on the way he suddenly froze in place, that wasn’t the response he’d expected. “I would have answered,” he said, catching up with the topic change quickly. “You can talk to me now,” he prompted. “About anything.”
“It’s not a big deal, really. Thinking about him going out with a girl has revealed a previously undiscovered layer of maternal protectiveness.” She dismissed her silly overreaction with a careless wave of her hand.
“No such thing as a girl good enough for your son?”
“Apparently part of me subscribes to that theory.” She pressed a hand to her heart and shot a guilty glance toward the guest room. She inched closer, whispering. “I don’t know who it could be, or how seriously he might be hung up on her.”
Matt scooted toward her, a grin teasing his lips as he whispered back. “Serious enough to ask you about dating.”
“I guess that was the trigger,” she realized. His quick grin stole her breath. Suddenly it was too easy to envision more nights like this one, having someone to confide in, sharing quiet conversations and hopes on the journey of raising Caleb. She eased her mind away from that dangerous territory.
He was involved now, sure, and that was a good thing. Caleb needed him. But she couldn’t afford to get used to this. One-night stand, she reminded herself. He couldn’t possibly want to sign on for family life, not with her. He wasn’t yet halfway through his career as an officer. So many adventures awaited him, and seeing him in uniform, in action, today reminded her they were on different tracks with good reason.
“Where’d you go?” His fingertips traced the veins in the back of her hand, where it rested on her knee.
She reached for her wine and tried to smile. “I’m here.”
“Caleb’s caught in between being a kid and an adult,” Matt said. “You remember how it was.”
She did.
“It won’t last too long,” he continued, “but it’s awkward for the duration.”
For everyone apparently. “You’ve missed so much.” She set the wine glass aside, met his gaze. “Whatever you need from this point on, you can have it, Matt. I promise.”
“Whatever I need?”
She’d barely given him the affirmative when he simply flowed across the couch, over her. Arms braced, he held his body up so he wouldn’t crush her, while his lips softly claimed hers.
She curled a hand around his nape and shifted to give more to the kiss, to him. That softness spiraled into rough demands on both sides. Countless needs pulsed through her, vying for his attention, seeking release.
Seeking him.
With a low rumble, Matt eased his body down, gently pressing her into the cushions. Propped on his elbows, he lifted his head to stare at her. His fingertips sifted through her hair. “You, Bethany. You’re—”
This wasn’t the time for discussion. She cut him off with a nip to his jaw, ducking away from all that intensity. Something in his eyes, an emotion she didn’t want to analyze, nearly sent her scrambling away. Except, this was Matt. The best friend and lover she’d ever had. She blazed a trail of kisses along his throat, up over his jaw and back to his mouth.
He moaned and his arousal prodded her belly when he slid a hand under her back to bring her closer. She stroked a hand up and down his back, rediscovering the hard slabs of muscle along the way. His mouth made her frantic as he sucked lightly on her tongue, delicately tugged her lower lip, all the while subtly rocking his hips to hers.
She wanted fast and rough, mindless sensation to blur out the past and present. He gave her gentle, thorough attention that brought every magnificent detail and connection between them into sharp focus.
The calluses on his palms, those were the hands of a man who worked hard outside of the Pentagon office. She reveled in his unique masculine scent under the fresh green of his shower soap. His hair, thick and soft under her fingers, the prickle of whiskers along his jaw.
He cupped her breast through her shirt and teased her nipples into tight pebbles that were straining for his next touch, the next enticing sensation.
He sat up, pulling her along with him. In one fluid motion, he pulled her shirt up and over her raised arms. His hands caressed her bared skin, from her palms all the way down to her ribs, coming around to her breasts once more. Laying her back again, he nibbled a path along the lace cups of her bra, tormenting her until at last his mouth closed over her with more of that gentle, thorough attention.
She was perilously close to a climax already, afraid to let go, almost more afraid not to. She murmured his name, shamelessly grinding her hips against the muscled thigh wedged between her legs. She gave a little cry as he bared her nipple and swirled the tender peak with his tongue.
She felt his smile against her skin as he nibbled his way back to her lips and muted her soft, needy gasps with his kisses. “Shh. Not yet, love. Not yet.”
Love.
Her heart did a kick-step and her breath fluttered. The girl she’d been wanted him to mean it, wanted that love to be the true, lasting variety. It was a wayward wish at best. They were all grown up now and everything was different. Too much time had passed and their window for that kind of love had closed.
He was feathering kisses over her ribs, across her midriff, lower still until his breath fanned the sensitive skin between her navel and her jeans. He flicked the button open, slid down the zipper and she clapped a hand over his.
There were stretch marks now. She was in good enough shape, if a bit fuller than she’d been. Why couldn’t she have filled out the way he had? He was lean, honed and sexy. Her face flushing with embarrassment, she squirmed backward, stretching for the light.
His hands gripped her hips, holding her. “Bethany?”
She scolded herself that she’d been so caught in the fantasy of him that the ways she’d changed never occurred to her. Covering her face with her hands, she struggled against tears and laughter. “Turn out the light.”
“I don’t think so.” Gently, he drew her hands away from her face. “I don’t want to miss anything.”
He didn’t know what he was asking of her. “Please?” She bit her lip. “What if Caleb wanders out here?” There! She leaped on the perfect excuse.
“You weren’t thinking about him a few minutes ago.” His tone, planted firmly between smug and conversational, got under her skin.
“Should’ve been,” she admitted, her desire fading under the weight of her obligations. “I definitely am now.”
This would be the worst example for him. Especially after he’d caught them kissing yesterday. She tried to wriggle out from under Matt again. Again, he made it difficult. “Let me go.”
“In a minute.” The words brushed across her skin. “I want to understand what’s going on.”
“This is a mistake.” One after another, she never said or did the right things with Matt. She fanned her face, blinking rapidly and wondering if laughter or tears would win the moment.
“Talk to me,
Beth.”
Matt caught her hands, held them in one of his, right over her heart.
Oh, if only she could. Guilt slammed into desire and both bounced along on waves of fear. She didn’t have the first idea how to put the conflicting emotions into words or even the right order. “I’m sorry. I want you,” she said in a rush.
He went utterly still, even his face seemed oddly quiet and expressionless. He stared at her mouth as if he was sure any second now it would open again and offer words that made sense. It felt as if the entire world was on pause, waiting for her to clarify that odd statement.
What had she said? All the sensations, regrets and feelings were jumbled in her head, tangling up the words she needed to give him. She wasn’t sorry she wanted him, though the pain in his eyes indicated that’s what he’d heard. His lips parted, but he didn’t make a sound.
“I only meant—”
He sat back so abruptly that goose bumps raced over her bare skin. He stood up and strode away.
Her stomach did a slow, sick roll. Crap. “Matt, hang on.” She managed not to shout, but it was a close thing. Grabbing her shirt, pulling and tugging it into place, she rushed down the hall after him, catching up just in time for him to shut his bedroom door in her face.
Could she do nothing right with this man? Certainly she hadn’t done anything right since she told him she was expecting. She rested her forehead against the door. “Matt?”
“Not now.” His voice was thick with emotion.
“Please, Matt.”
“We’ll talk tomorrow.”
It sounded as if he was mirroring her pose on his side of the door. She almost tested the handle and decided that would be too pushy. “Matt,” she pleaded.
“Go to bed.”
“I’m sorry for screwing this up.” There, that came out properly. He could take that apology and apply it to tonight, or more accurately to all the points in the past where her insecurities had messed up the relationship potential for him and his son.
Her eyes and nose burned with tears. This time, she knew the flood couldn’t be stopped. Too much had happened in the last few days for her to hold it in anymore.
As the first tears spilled over and rolled down her cheeks, she wandered back to the living room, wondering what to do now. Her son, hopefully asleep, was behind one door and the love of her life was taking shelter from her behind the other. She’d never felt more alone.
Hugging her arms around her middle, she went to the balcony doors and stared out at the night. Matt’s touch had been so familiar, so full of promises she wanted to believe, and still she’d managed to hurt him again.
Because she couldn’t stop being afraid.
Caleb was a blessing for many reasons, not the least of which was that becoming a mom altered her career path. Things had been going well for her at West Point, but clearly she wasn’t cut out for a proper Military career. The men and women who served exemplified courage against long odds. All she did was run as fast as possible for the easier road.
Easier to be alone, to feign strength and handle things on her own than open herself to the emotional risk Matt presented. Or any man really, she thought, disgusted with herself.
Feeling wretched and terribly exposed, she pulled the curtains to block out all that night pressing in. Curling into the sleek recliner, she leaned back and inhaled the scent of him. It wrapped her in comfort and memories of easy affection. It hit her hard, everything she’d thrown away when she shut him out of her life so completely.
She was a fool, she thought, tears flowing in earnest now. She didn’t blame herself for the decisions she’d made under the stress and uncertainty when she’d found out she was pregnant. She’d eventually come to the pragmatic conclusion about leaving West Point. It was the only way to keep Matt’s name out of it and avoid any unnecessary disciplinary action.
If she’d named him as the father, it could have meant his expulsion, as well as her own. His future had been too bright, and one of them deserved the chance to see their original dreams fulfilled. That was one perk of this entire mess, the firsthand look at his success.
He had a stellar career as an Army officer and, from all accounts, he was as popular a leader as his father. It couldn’t have been easy for him to separate himself from General Riley’s reputation, between the various schools, the deployments, and the alternating favoritism and bias everyone seemed to have for or against General Riley’s eldest son.
Those prejudices had shown up as early as their first year, with some instructors riding him harder, some granting him more leeway. Even their classmates had expressed a tendency to judge him as a young version of his dad, giving him hell or trying to ride his coattails.
All Matt had ever wanted was a fair shot, to be judged on his merit alone rather than the long-reaching shadow of his father.
She looked back at her choices through his eyes. She’d judged him, too. Not on his specific interactions with her, but on what she knew of his family and his goals. On how she saw herself fitting into his plans or, more accurately, how her attempts to fit her life to his would surely backfire.
She’d never given them a chance. And now...of all the things that changed in a life, it seemed she couldn’t overcome the frightened girl determined to hold Matt at a safe distance.
Eventually her tears slowed to a trickle and she went to the bathroom, splashing cool water on her face to relieve the worst of the redness in her cheeks and gritty eyes. Needing sleep didn’t mean it would come. Rather than toss and turn and possibly wake Caleb, she went back to the living room.
Practically tiptoeing around, she cleared the wine glasses and capped the bottle. Looking for another distraction, her gaze landed on the box of Caleb’s pictures on the coffee table. During college, she’d earned some good cash with calligraphy. Later she’d enjoyed scrapbooking, as well.
As the idea took shape in her mind, her aching heart eased a bit. Here was something nice she could do for Matt and his parents, too. She didn’t have all the supplies with her, so it wouldn’t be particularly fancy, but maybe they’d appreciate the spirit of the gesture.
And if she was crafting, she couldn’t cry. What else could she do to get herself through to the morning?
Hours later, her back aching and her writing hand cramped, she had two small albums ready, one for Matt and one for his mother. Yawning, she put away the supplies, tucked the pictures she hadn’t used back in the box and placed the albums on top. Then she curled into the recliner and let the exhaustion take her under.
Chapter 9
Matt heard his phone chiming on the nightstand charger and reached over to hit the snooze option. Ten more minutes, that’s all. It would bring the sum total of his sleeping time to approximately an hour and ten minutes. Every time he drifted off, he’d fallen into a nightmare of Bethany walking out of his life and taking Caleb, the two of them forever out of his reach.
Instead of blissful silence, he heard Alex’s voice, too faint to make out the words. He grabbed the phone and put it to his ear. “Hold up,” he pleaded. His watch showed it wasn’t quite six o’clock. Good grief.
“Wake up,” Alex replied. “We have a situation.”
The stone-cold business tone caught Matt’s attention. Instantly awake, he sat up and put his feet on the floor. “Go.”
“There was a new development overnight. General Knudson wants to brief us in his office at oh-seven-hundred. I’ll pick you up in thirty.”
“We’ll be ready.” He was sure Caleb and Bethany wouldn’t be happy when he woke them with this, but he knew he could count on them to kick it into gear.
“No we. Just you, man.”
“Alex.” He wasn’t leaving Caleb and Bethany alone. Besides, this involved them, too.
“My team is already shifting focus. We have positions on the elevator, the roof, in the stairwells, the building next do
or. Every access covered. No harm will come to them while you’re out.”
He wouldn’t win an argument on security with an experienced operator like Alex. “Meet you downstairs in thirty. Twenty-eight,” he amended, looking at the clock.
“I’ll be at your door, Major Riley.”
If Matt hadn’t been rattled before, the official address did it. Wearing only his boxers, he bolted to the kitchen and started a cup of coffee to brew. In the three minutes the machine required, he brushed his teeth and showered.
In clean boxers this time, he came back out and retrieved his coffee and headed back to his bedroom to shave and finish dressing. When he came out of his bedroom a third time, fully dressed, his coat over his arm and his beret in hand, he noticed Bethany curled up in the recliner.
She looked so fragile, her cheek pale and delicate in the shadows. He adjusted the throw to cover her shoulder and managed to control the urge to kiss her awake. One of them should get some rest.
He moved on to the guest room and knocked lightly before entering. As he suspected, the quiet knock had done nothing to stir his son. Seeing Caleb sprawled across the bed, in a tank top and boxers and the sheets tangled around his lanky legs, Matt was overcome with love.
Swallowing the swell of emotion, he walked over and gently shook Caleb’s shoulder. “Hey, wake up.”
He rolled over and took the covers with him. “Five minutes,” he mumbled.
“If only,” Matt muttered. “Caleb.” He gave him another shake and put some authority into his voice. “I need you to wake up now. Your mom needs you.”
The boy roused a bit at that, as if his sleeping form just realized he shouldn’t be in this bedroom alone. “What?” He blinked rapidly. “Matt?” He scrubbed at his face. “What time is it?” He looked to the window, where the first hint of daylight was trying to squeeze through the blinds.
