Lucky 7 Bad Boys Contemporary Romance Boxed Set

by Pineiro, Charity

  He stood over her, torn between feelings of anger and frustration, and those of sadness and longing. He didn't know what had possessed him that morning. Maybe it had been the thought of having to live under the same roof with her, still furious with her—hell, with himself. Still wanting her. Unable to do anything about either. Knowing he had every right to. Knowing he had no right at all.

  Damn, he was confused.

  But he did feel a little better after a grueling day of self-punishment at the office, working through his feelings of being so thoroughly and unjustly rejected by her last night. After all, she'd known how he felt about love, long before letting him into that bed with her.

  But Rini's apology this morning had told him loud and clear that she hadn't intended to hurt him. She was just trying to work through her own private horrors. She had no way of knowing about his sensitivity to rejection. And he wasn't about to talk about it. Maybe in twenty or thirty years…

  She moved in her sleep, hugging the pillow she held to her chest even tighter, softly murmuring words he couldn't quite hear. He was still angry, but even so, he had to stop himself from climbing in with her. He sighed, wondering when his body would get the message.

  He turned and trailed into the guest room, emptying his jacket pockets as he went. Tossing his wallet and change onto the dresser, he stripped off his shirt and headed to the bathroom. Suddenly, he caught the smell of fresh paint.

  Frowning, he turned and followed the smell into the chilly kitchen. A cold breeze blew in through open windows. Flicking on the light, he was floored to see what Rini had done. Instead of dull beige, the walls were now a bright, cheerful yellow, with glossy white trim.

  "Like it?" Rini's sleepy voice sounded behind him.

  He turned to the sight of her tousled hair falling over the lapels of his old flannel robe. "It's never looked so good," he said, momentarily unsure of whether he meant the kitchen or the robe.

  She smiled tentatively. "I'm glad you like it." He brought his wandering mind to heel. "But you shouldn't be painting."

  She looked at her feet. "Dr. Morris said it was okay if I opened all the windows."

  "That's not what I meant."

  She didn't have to say a thing. The expression on her face said it all. She wanted to appease him.

  He thought of his ex-wife's son, Jeff, who'd written him that heartbreaking letter, and of how things could have turned out just as badly with his own son and Rini, if he hadn't made the effort to gather them into a family. Silently, he thanked God for giving him the chance.

  Guiltily, he shook his head. "Look, Rini, I'm sorry about this morning. I had no right coming down on you like a ton of bricks."

  She bit her lip. "I didn't mean to make you angry last night. I just—"

  "I know," he said, more gruffly than he intended. "Apology's not necessary. And you don't have to earn your keep." He cut her a look. "In any way."

  Eyes still on the floor, she nodded.

  He glanced around the kitchen. "I don't want you doing so much. Just take care of yourself and the baby."

  She looked up at him imploringly. "I need to feel useful. Let me do a few things around the house, at least." She laid her hand on his arm. "Please, Cole."

  The way her eyes pleaded with him, he couldn't find it in his heart to refuse. Before he did something he'd regret, he moved his arm out from under her hand and started toward the living room. "Just be careful and don't overdo it, okay? Now, get back to bed. You'll catch your death with all these windows open."

  * * *

  When the office phone rang for the fifth time, Cole looked up irately from the papers he was working on. There weren't all that many days left to tie up loose ends before the birth. He'd wanted to finish this one last brief before going home, and the phone had been ringing nonstop since he'd gotten to his office three hours ago. A headache drilled into his brain.

  "Lonetree," he snapped into the mouthpiece.

  "Cole, sweetie, is that any way to greet your wife?"

  He was in no mood for jokes. "No, but that's not a problem, since you're not my wife."

  "Oh, but I am," the smug feminine voice purred. "This is Lindsay. I'm crushed you didn't recognize my voice."

  Lindsay! That was just what he needed right now. Not.

  "What the hell do you want?" When he hadn't heard from her after getting the letter from Jeff a couple of weeks ago, he'd thought her silence was too good to be true.

  "It's nice to hear your voice, too. How are you?"

  "Lindsay, I'm very busy, so you'll excuse me if I hang up now."

  "That wouldn't be a very good idea, sweetie. What would your pretty new wife say if she found out her husband has a thirteen-year-old son?"

  He drilled a hand through his hair, scowling furiously. "Sorry, won't work. I never touched you and you know it."

  "Yes, well. There's just your word on that, isn't there?"

  "Ever heard of DNA testing?" Cole rubbed his aching temple. "You've got a screw loose, Lindsay. I've already talked to Jeff and he knows I'm not his father. Stop hassling me, and don't even think about contacting my wife."

  She was silent for a moment, then sighed in defeat. "Give me a break, okay? I gave the kid up for adoption, and now he's found me. He's 'looking for his roots,'" she mimicked, groaning. "He's only interested in his Native half. He can barely bring himself to speak to me. I remember what you went through when you were young. I just thought…"

  Cole stifled his knee-jerk reaction to the subject of his own adoption. He had already told Jeff he'd take him to the next powwow and introduce him around the local Indian community. Teach him a few things. But Lindsay didn't need to know that. "What do you want from me?"

  "Can't you call him back and tell him you're his father?"

  "Are you out of your mind?" he shouted before getting hold of his temper. "Besides being immoral and an outright lie, it wouldn't be fair to the boy. He deserves to find his real father."

  He heard a muffled female sniffle. Great.

  He turned and sat against his desk, massaging his neck. "Lindsay, I really don't need this bullshit right now."

  "Help me, Cole. Daddy will disown me if he finds out. He thought I was away at college. I have no idea who the kid's father was, except he was obviously Indian. Help me find out. Please?"

  Cole smoothed down his tie and let out a breath, cursing long and hard. Damn. Damn. Damn. This was way more involved than he wanted to get. But when he thought of the kid, his heart just wouldn't let him turn his back.

  "Send me a list of potential candidates. No promises, but I'll see what I can find out."

  * * *

  Rini bit off the thread after finishing one last throw pillow, tossed it next to its mates on the sofa and stood back to admire her handiwork.

  The worn area rug in the living room had been replaced with a new handmade one she had bought at a local weaving guild. She'd looked everywhere for coordinating fabric and, when she found the perfect match, in-between studying she had sewn curtains for all six windows. Today she had finished a dozen cozy throw pillows for the sofas and Cole's chair. The room looked even better than the guest room, which she'd redone last week. She smiled in satisfaction.

  She checked the clock on the mantel. She had an hour to spare before she had to start dinner. Today she was trying her hand at fajitas—Cole had mentioned a few days ago how much he liked them. But they seemed pretty easy to make, so maybe she should get in some study time beforehand. Or maybe…

  Her gaze skittered to the phone in the kitchen, and instantly she was deluged with uneasy emotions. She had put off this call as long as she could, but it couldn't be put off any longer. Her hand shook slightly at the thought of dialing the familiar number. But today, when she felt so good and had accomplished so much, surely, today she would be strong enough to do it.

  Resolutely, she walked to the phone, picked it up and dialed. All too quickly a brisk, feminine voice said, "Hello," sounding like she was next door inste
ad of three thousand miles away.

  "Hi, Mama."

  "Rini, is that you?"

  "Yes, Mother."

  "You'll have to make it fast, dear. I'm just on my way out the door. Frazer is taking me to the opening of that new show everyone's raving about. You've seen it, of course, since it was in L.A. last month. I have a fabulous new—"

  "Mama, I got married a few weeks ago. I just thought you might like—"

  "Married! Well, congratulations, dear, it's about time you came to your senses and married David. After all, you've been with him for years now—"

  "I told you I left David last year. My husband's name is Colton Lonetree."

  "Don't be ridiculous. David was perfect for you. He gave you direction. Left him? How could you? He was practically the most eligible bachelor in Los—"

  "He didn't love me."

  "Love? Pshaw. There are more important— Lord. This is just typical of you, Rini. You never think before you leap into something. So tell me, who is this man you've married? Hilton something? What does he do? And why wasn't your own mother invited?"

  "It's Cole. Colton Lonetree. He's a—"

  "Is he some sort of foreigner? Lonetree doesn't sound like an English name to me."

  "You'd like him. He's very nice. Handsome, too. He's Native American, from down—"

  "Native American! You mean a— a—"

  "A lawyer, Mama. You always wanted me to marry a lawyer. And now I have."

  "Well. Then I guess he must be—"

  "I'm going to have a baby, too. Isn't that wonder—"

  "A baby!?"

  "—ful? It's a boy and he's due next week. We're so thrilled... Mother?"

  "When did you say you got married?"

  "A few weeks ago. I'm sorry I didn't call sooner. It was all pretty sudden. It was a courthouse wedding, but very nice. Alexa had everyone back to the house afterward and she made this delicious chocolate wedding cake—"

  "Oh, Rini, what have you done?"

  "It would be really nice if you could come out after the baby's born and meet him and Cole. I know you'll like—"

  "I just can't believe it. Forced to get married in this day and age. Don't you know there are options? Well, you'll simply have to do the best with the situation you've made for yourself. I only hope to God you won't be too miserable. At least he's a lawyer."

  "His house is really cute, too. It has the prettiest yellow kitchen. With white trim. Just like we used to have when Daddy was—"

  "It sounds delightful, dear. Uh-oh, I hear Frazer calling. Got to run. Congratulations, Rini. I hope you'll be very happy. You'll let me know how it goes, won't you? Ta ta for now!"

  "Bye, Mama. I love you."

  But she was talking to the air.

  Chapter Twelve

  Cole pulled the truck into the driveway and parked behind the Camaro. He jumped out and strode up the walk, wondering what surprises were in store for him today.

  Rini always had something going—in three weeks she'd practically redecorated his entire house. He was terrified that she was endangering her health, but besides that, he honestly didn't know when she found time to do it all, between classes and studying half the night. He'd never seen anyone work so hard in all his life.

  He hadn't meant for it to be like this. He didn't like it. But the more he tried to discourage her, the more she would do.

  He flung open the front door and called out, "Rini?"

  "In here," she called from his room. Her room. Whose-ever the hell room it was.

  Sighing, he slipped off his shoes and tossed his briefcase onto the easy chair before going to her. He stopped in the doorway. Except for their wedding night and those few minutes the second night, he hadn't set foot in his old room since she'd moved into it. "Hi."

  "Hi. I got some things."

  "So I see."

  His bed was piled high with baby things. On the floor sat an infant car seat and a big skinny box containing an unassembled crib, according to the colorful photographic label on the front. Rini had scrounged up his toolbox from the garage and now sat next to it, ripping open the carton. She looked mighty uncomfortable.

  "Here—" He quickly squatted down by her. "Let me help."

  "It's okay, I can manage."

  He grasped her hands. "No one doubts that, honey. Why don't you relax on the bed and watch while I do it?"

  Her fingers tightened briefly around his and she squeezed her eyes shut. He could see the dark smudges under them.

  "The stuff for fajitas is ready. I should set the table."

  "Dinner can wait. Come on. Sit." He led her to the bed and cleared a spot. "Are you having more contractions?"

  She lifted a shoulder. "The usual. But my back is killing me. Too much shopping, I guess."

  "Doing too much everything, I guess. I'll run a nice warm bath for you tonight." Before she leaned back against the headboard, he propped pillows behind her. "I've been wondering when you were going to get baby things."

  She lowered her gaze as she rubbed her stomach. "I was hoping you'd go with me. But you've been so busy."

  He stopped and looked at her, guilt washing over him once more. "You should have said something."

  "I know you're trying to tie things up at the office before next week. I didn't want to be a bother."

  "You're not a bother, Rini. Ever." He cleared his throat. "Look, I know we didn't exactly get off on the right foot, but we're a family now." He got up and paced over to the box holding the crib. "We have to learn to work together. For the baby's sake."

  When he glanced back, Rini's eyes were closed and there was a hint of melancholy in her face. "I know. You're right."

  He shrugged off his jacket and hung it over the doorknob, then opened the carton and began taking out crib pieces. Her gaze followed him as he worked. He put the crib together and then set it up in a corner of the room.

  "Nice crib." He surveyed his finished handiwork and watched her pull a thick pad and sheet out of a department store bag. He took them and made up the miniature mattress. Rini fastened some colorful bumpers around the perimeter. He couldn't believe that soon a new baby would be sleeping there. His baby.

  Their baby.

  He slipped his arm around Rini and they both stood for several minutes gazing at the crib, contemplating what was to come. Without thinking, he reached over and put his hand on her stomach. He felt the muscles ripple, growing rock hard under his fingers. "Another contraction?"

  She nodded. "How about some dinner? I'm starved. Then I need to get all this stuff put away. I should do some studying, too, but I'd like to get that baby quilt finished first."

  He shook his head. "What you need is some sleep."

  "No time." She smiled, heading for the kitchen. "Too much to do."

  * * *

  The next morning Cole woke to the sound of Rini's moans. He opened his eyes and stared at the pillow in the still-strange bed for a moment, getting his bearings. The moans fit right into the pleasant dream he'd been having, but when he reached for his wife she was nowhere in sight. When another soft moan floated down the hall, he shot out of bed and ran to her room.

  "Are you all right?" He approached the bed where she lay tangled in the sheet, the Pendleton blanket in a heap on the floor beside her.

  Her eyes had been closed but sprang open at his words. "Cole!" Her hand went to her brow. "I had the strangest dream. I dreamed an army tank was driving laps over my stomach. Ow!"

  "What's happening?" He leaned over the bed, alarmed by the expression of surprise and pain on her face. "Woman, talk to me!"

  "I'm awake, but the tank is still there." Her eyes widened and she clutched her stomach. "Oh, Cole. I think this is it."

  He looked at her, shocked. "You're kidding, right? Tell me this isn't happening a week early."

  She shook her head, obviously reluctant to believe it herself. "No. First babies never come early. Besides, it can't be time. I haven't even packed." She lifted her hands tentatively, then smiled.
"See? All gone."

  Breathing a sigh of relief, he plunked himself down on the side of the bed. "Had me worried for a minute, there." He glanced at the alarm clock on her nightstand. "Time to get up, anyway. Feel like some breakfast?"

  She scooted to a sitting position, pulling the sheet with her, and grimaced. "Oh, man. Do the tread marks show?"

  He shot her a look, frowning. "Still hurt?"

  She smiled weakly. "Only when I breathe." She held out her hands. "Help me up? Maybe I can walk the kinks out."

  This was not good. Something was wrong; he just knew it. "Maybe you should call the doctor."

  "I'll have a walk around the house first. Are you making eggs? I'm starving."

  Grinning, he rose. "I'll take that as a good sign. Scrambled okay?" He helped her to her feet and caught her staring at his attire.

  "Silk boxers?" She reached out and gingerly fingered the fabric.

  He felt his grin turn lopsided. He loved the feel of the cool, slippery material against his bare skin, found it extremely soothing and sensual, but hadn't ever admitted that to anyone before. "Why should women have all the fun?"

  She grabbed his arm to steady herself, her face scrunching up in a wince of pain. "Yeah, this is fun. I'll trade you anytime."

  Instantly, the playfulness was forgotten. "Rini, these contractions are coming pretty close together. Are you sure it isn't time?"

  After a moment, she took a deep breath and smiled bravely. "Yeah, it's time. Time for breakfast."

  He chuckled and headed for the kitchen. "Yes, ma'am." If there was one thing he'd learned in the past weeks, it was if she was hungry, the kid didn't stand a chance. Baby might as well make himself comfortable and wait out breakfast.

  As he prepared the eggs and set the table, Cole could hear her moving around, to the bathroom and back to her room, then walking in circles in the living room. He seemed to recall something from childbirth class about changing activities to determine if labor was real or false. Since she had been lying down, walking around should either make the contractions go away or speed them up. Either way they'd know.

  He scrubbed his face with his hands. Hell. He was not ready for this. He went out to get her. "Breakfast is ready."