Texas Baby

by Tanya Michaels

  "Happy to help. And I mean that," he stressed. "For instance, that jerk earlier?"

  She lowered her voice to an even more discreet level. "One of the team parents. My least favorite. He disagreed with a coaching decision. I took care of it."

  "You sure you don't want me to rough him up?" Giff offered.

  "Tempting. But probably a bad example for Tanner."

  Giff returned to his seat grousing about the burden of being a good role model. Addie grinned, taking an extra moment to appreciate his retreating backside. That man was born for jeans.

  Unfortunately, there wasn't much she could do to pass along her buoyant mood to the kids. The Sea Turtles lost by eight points, a particularly crushing defeat since it had been their first game. Despite Addie's assurance that she was proud of them for making an effort, half the team appeared to be on the verge of tears. Ironically, that didn't include Sammy.

  "There's always next week," she said in the perkiest tone she could manage. "Our second game is Friday. And, remember, it's not about the scoreboard. It's about having fun."

  "What's fun about losing?" Caleb demanded with a sneer.

  The only replies that came immediately to mind weren't appropriate to give a six-year-old, so she dismissed everyone.

  Tanner remained where he stood, scuffing his cleats in the dirt and refusing to meet her eyes.

  Addie did the only thing she could think of under the circumstances. "Who's up for ice cream?"

  * * *

  THIRTY MINUTES LATER, Addie, Giff and Tanner were seated on garishly colored vinyl benches in an ice cream parlor decorated in chrome and neon colors. Because Sean had an early flight tomorrow, he and Jonna had elected not to join them. Tanner sat next to Giff, spooning his way through a banana split. He had chocolate syrup, strawberry sauce and whipped cream smeared across his chin and upper lip.

  Addie smiled at the picture he made. "Feel better now, honey?"

  "Yeah." Tanner looked up with a frown. "But our team stinks, Aunt Addie."

  His words struck her as failure. She obviously wasn't getting the message across that winning wasn't everything; the last thing she wanted was to raise a kid like Caleb. She opened her mouth to object to Tanner's statement, but Giff caught her eye, subtly signaling to himself with his index finger.

  Addie sat back, interested to hear how he would address this.

  "The important thing isn't who can kick the farthest or run the fastest," he said sternly. "It's that you are part of a team, and you should appreciate having one. It's a special privilege."

  Tanner straightened, looking surprised by his idol's disappointed tone. "But—"

  "I used to play football," Giff said. "And I don't remember how many games we won or lost, but I know the names of all my teammates. They were my friends, some of my best friends. And I miss them. When you're a grown-up, you don't always get that kind of support, people who have your back and celebrate your victories with you. If you think your team should be doing better, it's your responsibility to help them get better, to encourage them and train hard with them. Can you do that?"

  Tanner swallowed. "Yes, sir."

  "Good." Giff tousled the boy's hair and smiled. "Then go ahead and finish your ice cream before it melts. Tomorrow's a school day."

  Addie sat back, impressed. There were probably a number of men who would be able to fulfill the comparatively easy role of buddy for fun outings like fishing trips and baseball, but it took skill to also be a disciplinarian, one who made his point without yelling or overreacting.

  In the background, Elvis gave way to the Beach Boys on the brightly lit jukebox. Nicole, seeming to like the beat, bicycled her chubby legs. Tanner pushed his empty plastic bowl away from the edge of the table.

  "Mr. Giff?"

  "Yeah, sport?"

  "I'll try next week to do like you said, to be a better teammate," the boy said firmly. "Will you come watch?"

  "I'd be honored to."

  Out in the parking lot, Giff walked Addie and the kids to her car.

  She bumped his shoulder with hers. "You rocked in there, by the way. Is there anything you're not good at?"

  "Shockingly, yes." He pulled a face, looking a lot like Tanner whenever he was asked to eat broccoli. "I'm the world's worst dancer, as you'll probably see for yourself Saturday. I have no rhythm, two left feet. It's tragic, really. I hate dancing."

  "Can't we just stand on the dance floor with our arms around each other?" She placed Nicole into her car seat while Tanner buckled himself in next to his sister. Then she shut the door. "Here, I'll show you."

  She twined her arms around Giff's neck, letting herself melt against him so that nothing separated their bodies except for a few articles of clothing. Her breathing quickened.

  He trailed his fingers over the nape of her neck. "Like this?"

  "We're supposed to sway a little," she murmured, demonstrating. Her hips brushed across his, the whisper of friction enough to suffuse her body with heat. "But yeah, this is the basic idea."

  "Huh." He stopped, his expression mystified. "Turns out, I love dancing."

  * * *

  AS SOON AS GIFF HEARD the footsteps outside his office Friday evening, he realized he'd made a tactical error. He'd stayed late, after everyone else had left, because he was determined to unravel the electronic signature on the altered log. But he'd pushed his luck. He'd been able to avoid Bill for the past couple of days because the man was on-site, visiting the location of one of their bigger projects. Apparently, the man had decided to stop back by the office before officially starting his weekend.

  "Was hoping to find you here, son."

  Giff stood hastily. "Actually, I was just leaving."

  The man beetled his brows. "You haven't even shut down your computer. What's the hurry? I'm paying you good money and I deserve a report on your progress. Or maybe that's the problem? You're afraid to talk to me because you still haven't made any and you know a few words from me could damage your professional reputation."

  Giff gritted his teeth and reined in his temper for Addie's sake. "Actually, I have made progress this week. I have a new lead, but so far it's inconclusive." He was obligated to give Bill the information; all he could do now was damage control.

  "How do you mean? I'm expecting to hear from Groverton first thing on Monday. Did the bid get leaked or not?"

  "There's no evidence of that, specifically. But someone altered the system log."

  "And we don't have a way to find out who that someone was? Which computer it was done from?"

  "The specific terminal wouldn't matter. All the computers in the office are networked together. A person would just have to log in with their password. And Addie Caine's password was used for this deletion."

  Bill clapped his meaty hands together. "I knew it! I told you, didn't I, that it would be one of those women?"

  You sexist ass. "This doesn't prove she's guilty. It suggests to me that someone hacked her information or otherwise had access to her password and user ID. Addie herself suggested something like this in a team meeting a couple of weeks ago, redirecting blame to someone else. Someone's using her own idea against her."

  "Or she knew that making the suggestion would lead you to believe that. Are you really that naive, Baker, or are you prolonging this because of your own ulterior motives where that little redhead is concerned?"

  Giff's jaw clenched. He badly wanted to tell Bill to shove it, but then he would lose access to any possibility of clearing Addie. "Just give me a week," he said recklessly. "I'll find out who did this even if I have to work around the clock. I swear."

  "All right." The man's gaze was steely. "You've got until this time next Friday and not a second more."

  Chapter Fourteen

  Addie dubiously eyed the dress that hung from the top of her bedroom door. If she chickened out of wearing it, would Jonna somehow be able to psychically sense it?

  "Are you sure about this?" Addie had asked her friend in the department store
dressing room.

  "Please, it's Fashion 101. You've heard the cleavage or legs rule."

  Addie had laughed. "Cleavage, not so much an option."

  "That's why this little number is perfect for you. And I mean that in a good way."

  With her best friend egging her on, Addie had chosen a short-sleeved turtleneck dress in deep, dark green. At night, it would look black from a distance. The silky material was shot through with randomly placed iridescent threads meant to catch the light and the eye. Her hesitation over the dress hadn't been the way it hugged the curve of her hip, it had been the length of the skirt.

  "You're forgetting, I have to meet his mother in this," she'd nearly shrieked.

  Jonna had rolled her eyes. "It's not that short. It's simply outside of your normal comfort zone. Just don't bend over at the party, and you'll be fine. Plus, I saw a great pair of kitten heels on sale that would look great with that color."

  Now, alone in the unnaturally quiet apartment, Addie hoped her friend knew what she was talking about. Jonna had shown up twenty minutes ago to pick up the kids. Tanner had been vibrating with excitement over a promised Star Wars DVD marathon.

  She plugged in two different curling irons to heat up while she applied light, shimmery makeup, then zipped herself into the dress. Instead of fighting her curls tonight, she styled her hair in profusion of them. She stepped into the new heels and was just sliding in a pair of slim dangling gold earrings when the doorbell rang.

  Here goes nothing.

  Addie made a point of looking through the peephole first before she remembered that Tanner wasn't here to witness her good example. Smiling to herself, she opened the door. Giff stood on the other side of the threshold with flowers. He looked like James Bond's hot younger brother in his black suit.

  "Wow," Giff said. "My only regret is that I didn't get to watch you walk to the door. You look incredible."

  Thank you, Jonna. "Back atcha."

  "These are for you." He held out a simple arrangement of about half a dozen peach roses; secured around the base of the flowers was a small stuffed bear holding a soccer ball and wearing a green jersey that read Coach.

  "That's perfect," Addie declared. In her heels, it was easier than ever to reach up and meet his lips. She pulled back, taking the flowers to put in water. "If we kept doing that, I'd have to redo my hair and makeup."

  "If we kept doing that, we could skip the reception altogether," he suggested with a grin.

  She took a deep breath. "That is officially the most enticing idea I've ever heard in my life. But people would miss you."

  He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. "Rain check?"

  "Definitely."

  * * *

  THE HOTEL THAT JAKE AND BROOKE had chosen for their reception was well-known for its prestigious social events. Frankly, it was a little intimidating in its splendor. Addie realized that Giff was used to places like this; she was not.

  "Have you ever been here before?" Giff asked her after the valet had helped her out of the car.

  "No, but I've heard of it. Isn't this where they have the annual Midsummer Night Gala?"

  "Yep. This way," he said, dropping his free hand to the small of her back. In the other, he carried a silver-wrapped gift box.

  They passed a sign for the McBride Reception and followed the corridor to a ballroom. A uniformed hotel employee was politely checking invitations. They'd barely stepped foot inside and set their present on the appropriate side table when Giff asked if she saw where the bar had been set up.

  Addie snickered. "Desperate for a drink?"

  "No, I just thought it would be nice to get you a glass of wine before we're accosted." He groaned. "Too late."

  "Giff!"

  "Hope you weren't thirsty," he muttered near Addie's ear. "We're not going anywhere for a while."

  Addie followed his gaze to a stunning woman who had thick white hair and a feminine variation of Giff's smile.

  "Mom." Placing one arm around the woman, Giff leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. "What were you doing, lying in wait for our arrival?"

  Instead of responding directly to him, the woman turned to Addie with a comically pained expression. "Please forgive my incredibly rude son—clearly, I went wrong somewhere. What he meant to say was that he's delighted to see me and that I'm Grace Baker. You must be Addie."

  "Addie Caine." She shook hands with Grace. "And it's a real pleasure to meet you."

  "Why don't you come with me and we'll get you a drink, dear? With manners like this one has, we dare not leave it up to him," Grace chirped.

  "Hey!" Giff objected.

  Addie laughed. "A glass of white wine would be lovely. Lead the way."

  The three of them navigated an impressive crowd. Between the partygoers and the tuxedoed waitstaff circulating with glasses of champagne and bringing out trenchers of dressing for the soon-to-be-served salad course, Addie felt more claustrophobic here in the grand ballroom than she did in her office building's elevator.

  "This is a lot of well-wishers," she said, squeezing to the side so that a couple of broad-shouldered men could pass.

  "With Jake being a fireman, they invited everyone from his station," Giff explained. "And any of his army buddies who happened to be stateside. Not to mention a newspaper staff and both of their families. Mom, do you know where the guests of honor are?"

  Grace pointed to the far corner of the room where a photographer had set up a backdrop. Brooke, glowing in a white beaded evening gown, was currently having her portrait made with two petite blondes who looked enough alike that they had to be related. Addie guessed that the handsome man with close-cropped hair and adoring expression who stood watching them from a few feet was probably Jake.

  "Is that him?" she asked softly. "Your friend?"

  He nodded. "Jake McBride, the one and only."

  "He's good-looking," she remarked, studying the man with detached curiosity. He'd played such a pivotal role in Giff's life that she'd wondered what he would be like.

  Giff started to stiffen at her side, but caught himself. His contrite smile was endearingly self-aware. "It's possible I've developed a complex about my friend."

  In front of them, Grace clucked her tongue. "Really, dear. There's nothing less attractive than an insecure man."

  Addie tilted her head toward Giff and whispered, "You couldn't be unattractive if you tried."

  "You're very good for my ego," he whispered back. "I plan on keeping you around."

  They reached the bar and got their round of drinks.

  Grace fished the olive out of her martini and raised the glass as if toasting Addie. "So tell me about how the two of you met."

  Addie almost groaned at the recollection of how discombobulated she'd been that day. It was not a flattering memory. Then again, there was something liberating in knowing he'd already seen her at her worst and wanted her anyway.

  "It was through work," Giff said, a smile lurking in his voice as if he had easily guessed the direction of Addie's thoughts. "She was in the office break room and made an immediate, unmistakable impression on me."

  Addie considered discreetly stepping on his toe.

  "It must be interesting to work with the person you're dating. Giff, how much longer will this assignment be?"

  Giff's expression turned inscrutable and he sipped his imported beer. Addie had the fleeting impression that he was stalling before answering.

  "Grace Baker, is that you?" A woman dripping diamonds and sporting a hair color unknown to Mother Nature exited the line at the bar to hug Giff's mother. "Why, I haven't seen you in a month of Sundays. Where have you been hiding?"

  As the two friends, who were apparently acquainted through bridge club, began chatting, Giff led Addie away through the crowd.

  "We'll catch up with Mom later," Giff predicted. "She asked me if you had any pictures of the kids with you."

  Addie's cheeks warmed, patting the slim formal purse she carried. "Actually, I do. They haven't be
en with me two full months, and I've already become one of those people. By October, friends won't be able to visit me without being forced to sit through home movies of Tanner's soccer games. Promise you'll talk some sense into me if I get that bad?"

  He laughed. "Can't. Who do you think will be making the popcorn while you cue up the soccer footage?"

  She grinned, easily able to envision that. "Speaking of the kids, do you mind if I step outside the ballroom and look for a quiet corner to call them? This is the first time Tanner's spent the night away from me and I just wanted to check in with him before we sit down to dinner, before he falls asleep."

  He kissed the top of her head. "Tell him I said hi. I'll be over there." He pointed to a cluster of men not far from the gift table. "There are some people I wanted to talk to about post-Daughtrie projects for the winter."

  Addie threaded her way between the round tables set for dinner, each boasting a tropical centerpiece of orchids and anthuriums. Small bags of candied macadamia nuts had been placed at each setting as party favors. Giff had told her the bride and groom were married in Hawaii; they were obviously trying to recapture a bit of that magic for their celebration.

  The hallway seemed bizarrely subdued after the buzz of activity in the ballroom, and Addie was glad to find that she could get a signal.

  Jonna answered on the first ring. No doubt she'd anticipated her friend's call. "He loved the dress, am I right?"

  "You were right. And I met his mother, who didn't seem scandalized, so I guess the skirt's really not that short."

  "Was she nice," Jonna asked, "or one of those stand-offish types who thinks no woman is good enough for her son?"

  "She was great. Made jokes, treated me warmly, wants to hear all about the kids. I swear, Jonna, every detail about being involved with Giff is too good to be true. I almost feel like I should be worried."

  When she was a kid, she used to have these great dreams where she could fly. It was her favorite childhood fantasy and she'd loved those dreams…but there'd always been the inescapable knowledge nagging at her, that it wasn't real and that she'd have to wake up sooner or later.

  "Then you're an idiot," Jonna said with affectionate disdain. "Get back in that party, enjoy the expensive catering and have the time of your life with the hot guy who seems crazy about you."