“How did you?” she asked.
“I waited in the garden and saw you leave, which I fully expected you to do.” He swiped a hand through his hair and glanced at the house, impatience rising. “Then I ran to Nino’s car, took the back road out of Barefoot Bay that you probably don’t even know exists, and I beat you to the four-way intersection. Watched you check out the old bag at the Super Min, then I tailed you here.”
“Damn it.”
“You can’t out-spy a spy, sweetheart.” He stepped around her, closer to the house. “I’m not leaving until I see him.”
She huffed out a breath.
“And tell your boyfriend to put his biscuit back in the bag and out of my face.”
“Christopher Sloane is not my boyfriend. He’s a former Secret Service agent who happens to be great with kids and is willing to kill anyone who comes near Rafe.”
For some reason that didn’t take a shrink to understand, that just pissed him off ten times as much. “I’m his father, Lila. I’m the one who should kill for him.” He eyed the house again. “And believe me, I will.”
She let out a long exhale. “This isn’t what I wanted.”
“You think it’s what I wanted?”
“This isn’t about you.” She poked him with a finger to the chest, a gesture that was so Isadora, it stole his breath and sanity for a minute. There she was, deep inside this blond cover, the woman he loved and missed and moved to this hellhole in hopes of finding. “This is about Rafe and how to manage this…situation.”
“A situation we wouldn’t be in if you hadn’t—”
“Stop it!” She balled her fists, sparks shooting from her eyes. “I know that. I was going to introduce you to him, once I was certain…of you.”
“Once you were certain of me?” he asked, dragging out the question so she understood just how inane it was. “I look the same. I am the same. There’s nothing to doubt where I’m concerned.”
“For one thing, I have to be sure you believe me and back my plan.”
“I do.” Tiny white lie, because while he believed she was telling the truth, he had zero intention of letting her dump and run. At least not until he knew why. But fighting her bad idea would just delay what he wanted most in the world…to see that kid.
“And I have to be sure you’re going to be a good father.”
He closed his eyes and let the need to howl pass.
“Seriously, Gabe. It’s a huge commitment.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” He leaned closer to her. “If you know anything about me like you claim you do, you know that family is the only thing that matters to me. And that boy in there…is family.” The truth of that kicked him like a steel-toed boot in the gut. “And I’m not standing out here discussing your dumb-as-dirt plans or uncertainty for one more fucking minute.” He turned from her and started to the door, but she grabbed his arm.
“Gabe!”
“I’m serious.” He shook her off.
“Watch your mouth.”
He choked a laugh. “That’s what you’re worried about?”
“No, I…I…” She put her hand back on his arm, her touch much gentler this time. “I had so many fantasies about this meeting. And it wasn’t going to be like this, with you furious and me scared and him…”
Something cracked in his chest as he reached for her, pulling her closer. “It’s okay. Really, it’s going to be just fine.”
She pressed her cheek against his shoulder—another full-on Isadora move. And he did what he’d always done. He kissed her hair, which felt different under his lips but smelled very much the same as he remembered. Old feelings stirred in him, making his arms ache and making him realize something.
“You know, I had a lot of fantasies about this meeting, too.” At his admission, she stiffened in his arms, and he kissed her head again. “And it wasn’t going to be anything like this, with”—a stranger in his arms—“you shacked up with some beefcake waving his stick around. Come on.” He gave her a tug. “I’m anxious to meet this kid.”
“Okay, but take it easy.”
“I promise I won’t pounce on him and claim him as a Rossi, and I won’t pepper him with f-bombs, and I won’t fall on my knees and tell him that his mother is horrible for keeping us apart for four and a half—”
“Mummmmyyyyyy!” The door launched open, and out came a bullet of a boy, vaulting his whole body right into Lila, leaping in the air to wrap skinny arms and bare legs around her. “You came back!”
“Rafe!” She seemed unaffected by the whirlwind, holding him easily and planting kisses on both cheeks.
“I saw you in the window!” he squealed, kicking his legs against her in a way that had to hurt. She didn’t even flinch, but she did ease him down to the ground. “Mister Chris said I could…” He looked up at Gabe, suddenly aware of him.
And whoa. Whoa.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“I’m…your…”
And then words just evaporated, along with every promise he’d just made. He wanted to pounce. He wanted to claim. He wanted to scream his favorite word in pent-up fury. And he wanted to fall on his knees and thank whatever power had a hand in this miracle.
Instead, he crouched down slowly, staring, dumbstruck, completely unsteady as he looked into distrustful blue eyes, a chin jutted in a silent challenge, and a cunning smile that kicked up a little higher on one side than the other.
The picture hadn’t told the whole story. This was…a replica. A carbon copy. A son.
Chapter Eleven
Lila’s whole body vibrated, and not because a forty-five-pound Category 5 hurricane just hit her body and soul. But because the look on Gabe’s face was truly stunning.
She’d wanted to plan and prepare for this moment, but, really? Had there been any way to do that? It had to happen and, she supposed, the sooner, the better.
“Rafe, I want you to say hi to Mr. Rossi. He’s my friend.”
Gabe flicked her a look, but he obviously couldn’t spare a second of staring at anything but Rafe. His jaw loosened a little, and his eyes were wide as he drank in the sight of his son.
Chills rose on Lila’s arms as she stepped into his shoes and tried to imagine what he was feeling. Amazed? Awestruck? Overwhelmed?
Very slowly, Rafe took a step closer to him. Rafe was never one to hide in Mum’s skirt or shy away from a stranger, but he seemed uncharacteristically tentative in the face of this man.
“Hello, Rafe.” Gabe’s voice was thick with emotion, and the sound of it squeezed Lila’s chest along with the vise at her temples.
“I got good Christmas presents,” Rafe said simply.
“Yeah?” Gabe smiled, and his face lit up as he lifted one hand as if he was going to reach out, but then he changed his mind and lowered it. “I got a good one, too.”
“Santa found us here in this house.”
“He’s a top-notch search-and-gift guy.”
“I got Snap Circuits, a fire truck, a Zoomer dinosaur, and a Matchbox Adva…Ada…Ad…”
“Adventure set,” Lila supplied.
“With twenty cars.” He put his hands on his little hips, unfazed by the fact that he wore nothing but a rumpled Lightning McQueen pajama top and red-trimmed cotton underpants, his afternoon-nap attire of choice. “Did you get anything like that?”
“I got a…” Gabe looked up at Lila, and she saw the awe and amazement she expected, but there was something else, too. Anguish.
She’d done that, she thought with a stab of self-loathing. She’d put that look in his beautiful blue eyes.
“You got a what?” Rafe demanded.
“I got a…big surprise.” Gabe sighed on the last word and lost that battle with his right hand, reaching out to put it on Rafe’s shoulder.
“What was it?” Rafe’s voice rose with innocence and curiosity. “A car or truck? Legos?”
“Something I didn’t even know I wanted.”
“Like the Zoomer Dino! I di
dn’t put it on my list, but Santa knew, and I loooove it!” He jumped up and down on the last two words.
“Dude, I know exactly how you feel.” Gabe shook his head as he straightened, like he couldn’t even believe what he was looking at.
“You like Zoomer Dino?”
“I live for him. It. That.”
“Come here!” Rafe snagged Gabe’s hand and gave him a good yank.
“Rafe,” Lila chided. “Mr. Rossi was just leaving.”
Rafe’s eyes popped. “No way. He’s playing Zoomer Dino. C’mere!” He pulled on Gabe’s hand, who, of course, put up no fight whatsoever.
“Rafe, you can play with him another time, but he has to get home.” No way he was infiltrating that house and that room and that child’s heart…yet. Lila wasn’t ready for that, and her head was already searing with pain.
“No!” Rafe stomped his foot in a textbook temper tantrum that Lila had seen a million times. It escalated fast.
“Bro, you can’t say no to your mother.”
Rafe, openmouthed, ready to fight, blinked at Gabe, clearly surprised by the stranger’s reprimand.
“Play with me,” he insisted, his full weight clinging to Gabe’s arm as he lifted his legs to swing.
Of course Gabe would fold and go tripping into that room for hours of dinosaur fun. This was it. Her time was over; it was his turn.
Gabe easily lifted his arm, bringing Rafe up to dangle a foot off the ground, making him squeal with pure delight and ecstasy. “Not today, little man.”
“Yes, today, little man!” Rafe screamed, kicking his legs uselessly in the air.
“Tomorrow. I’ll be back.”
“Todaaaaayyyyy!” He was in high gear now, and Lila felt the heat rise, as it always did when her child had a meltdown.
“Rafe, this is going to get you in time out,” Lila warned.
His voice shot up an octave. “Noooooooo!”
Gabe tossed him up, making him airborne for a split second, then caught him by the waist, the move shocking Rafe so much, it silenced him.
“To. Morr. Ow,” Gabe said. “Got it?”
Rafe blinked, stunned. “I got it.”
“That’s what I’m talking about.” He stared at Rafe, nearly nose to nose, their profiles like mirror images of each other.
“Who are you again?” Rafe asked, no small amount of wonder in his voice.
“I’m…your…”
Lila bit her lip so hard, she tasted blood. Don’t say it, Gabe, please don’t say it. He can’t handle the truth yet.
“What?” Rafe demanded.
“Behavior control specialist. Sent from the North Pole to monitor your every move and make sure you toe the line.”
Rafe looked a little horrified, then lifted his foot in the air and practically stabbed his captor with his toe. “I have a toe. It’s in a stupid line.”
Gabe bit back a laugh.
“Rafe, don’t say stupid,” Lila said.
“Stupid!” He kicked harder. “Stupid, stupid, stu—”
Gabe flipped him sideways, twirling his body in a full circle, landing him right back in his hands upright, making Lila gasp and leaving Rafe open-jawed and speechless.
“Evidently, stupid”—Gabe got right into his face again—“is a bad word.”
Rafe just stared and nodded.
“Then put a cork in it, little guy, or I gotta go all the way back to the North Pole and report to my boss that things did not go well down here.”
Rafe’s eyes grew wide, then instantly narrowed, peering through thick black lashes and looking exactly like the ones gazing back at him. “You don’t really work for Santa,” Rafe finally said.
“But you don’t know for sure.” Gabe slowly put him down. “So you’re taking chances with your Zoomer T-Rex by saying things like stupid.”
Rafe backed up. “Okay,” he said, not sure what to make of this new arrival.
Oh, honey, it’s only going to get worse.
“I’ll take you inside, Rafe,” Lila said quickly, needing to end the exchange and sensing, somehow, that Gabe and Rafe needed a chance to breathe and regroup, too. “I want to talk to you, and you”—she looked at Gabe—“wait here.”
He put a hand on her shoulder as she walked by. “I will. But the game has changed. I’m calling all the shots from this minute on.”
She swallowed her fight and fear, knowing there was no way to talk him out of that now.
*
The minute they disappeared inside, Dick on a Stick came back outside, his weapon gone but probably not far. No doubt he wanted to piss on the doorstep and mark his territory.
Gabe looked at the guy with what he imagined was the same version of the Who the Fuck Are You? look he’d just gotten from a four-year-old. Only Gabe would back it with an uppercut to the scruffy jaw if he had to.
“I don’t know who you are or what your deal is,” the man said, “but I do know my job, and that is to protect Rafe.”
Was that an apology or a gauntlet? Gabe nodded slowly. “Good. Do it. I’m not going to hurt him.”
“And Lila.”
Irritation and protectiveness and something that felt like an ugly bout of jealousy stomped all over his insides. “I got her covered, man.”
“You got her covered?” He lifted a dark brow that matched his hair and eyes and bad beard. “You jumped out of the bushes and scared the shit out of her, then you manhandled her son and mocked her rules.”
Son of a motherhumping donkey. Seriously? He had to have a pissing contest with this dickface two minutes after the most gut-wrenching moment of his life? The only thing that kept him from pummeling pretty boy was respect for the woman and the child in the house.
“I actually don’t recall any rule-mocking,” Gabe said through gritted teeth.
“Stupid.”
“Yes, you are.”
“I’m inside doing my job. You’re skulking around the bushes. Which one of us is stupid?”
Gabe’s fist itched. Bad. But just then, Lila breezed out and looked from one to the other, uncertain of what to make of the exchange.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“I was just talking to your friend. Gabriel Rossi, did you say, Lila?”
Gabe seared him with a look, his dislike for the ballbuster so thick he could taste it. But right now, he had more important battles to fight than a turf war with Mrs. Doubtfire.
“Lila’s coming with me,” Gabe said, taking her hand. “She’ll leave her car here, and we’ll be in touch.” He guided her away. “Let’s go before a fight breaks out in the nursery.”
She turned and said good-bye, but there was no second temper tantrum on the front porch today, thank God. As they walked toward the driveway, he nodded at a car on the street. “I’m parked right there.”
“I didn’t even see you.” She sounded disgusted with herself.
“You’re battling with the best, babe.”
“I have to have a car, Gabe. I can’t just leave my rental here.”
“You can. You will.” He steered her toward the street, to the nondescript compact car that Nino usually used to run his errands, knowing she’d have spotted a bright purple 1968 GTO with white leather interior. “Right here. Right now.”
“And just like that, Gabriel Rossi has complete control.”
“Just like every day on this planet.”
She tried to stop, yanking backward. “He has two parents, and I am not giving up complete control.”
“Really? A couple hours ago, you were ready to hand him over to me to love, feed, and send to college. What changed?”
“Nothing, but…” She exhaled but stayed with him. “I still have a say in what we do and how we do it.”
She could say all she wanted, but any decisions that were made would be his. He crossed the street and opened the passenger door for her. “And that asshole better do a good job of protecting him, or he’ll be eating my fist and his balls.”
“I totally trust
him.”
Gabe looked skyward and held the door open for her. And she froze, getting right up in his face.
“Listen to me, smart mouth,” she said, poking him with that Isadora finger again. “I’ve protected that kid from any kind of harm for almost five years. I carried him, birthed him, worried about him, and loved him, and that includes finding a nanny who happens to have been trained in the Secret Service. You may not blow in, flip my child around, make a few jokes, and go all Daddy on me. You have to give me some damn credit, Gabe.”
He stared at her, a little overwhelmed by how much she turned into Isadora when she got passionate about something. Even with her fake English accent and fake hair and fake face and fake name. When something mattered, the real woman surfaced.
And, son of a bitch, he liked it.
“I give you plenty of credit for all that,” he said.
“Then don’t threaten me with calling the shots. There are two of us here.”
“Actually, three. Four if you count Mary Poppins.”
She threw herself into the car and instantly dropped her head into her hands. “Just stop it, okay? That wasn’t easy. Nothing about that was easy.” Her voice cracked, which had the intended effect of kicking him in the nuts.
He crouched down the same way he had with Rafe, instantly regretting his role in the misery that seized her. “Hey, I told you it’s going to be okay. We’ll figure this out. I already have a plan.”
She turned to him, disbelief and doubt shadowing her eyes. “There’s only one plan. I’m going to leave. How we figure that out is up for discussion, but I can’t stay…with him. Or, God, with you.” She dropped her face into her hands again and moaned. “Shit,” she whispered. “This one’s a brain-racker.”
“You get really bad headaches, don’t you?” He didn’t remember Isadora suffering from anything worse than a hangnail.
She nodded, then lifted her head. “I’ll be fine. They come and go.”
He searched her face for a moment, not seeing a woman who looked like she’d be “fine” anytime soon. But he backed off and closed the door, rounding the car to get into the driver’s seat.
By the time he sat down, her eyes looked a little clearer, which surprised him.
“Did Chris guess you’re Rafe’s father?” she asked.
Roxanne St. Claire - Barefoot With a Bad Boy (Barefoot Bay Undercover #3) Page 10
