THE RE-ENLISTED GROOM

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THE RE-ENLISTED GROOM Page 9

by Amy J. Fetzer


  "So," he said on a husky laugh, "I did leave an impression."

  Boy, did he, she thought and it didn't take much to revive it either. "Must have been the stamina thing," she said, turning back to the counter and heard him nearly choke on his juice.

  "When did you know my mom?" Mimi piped up. Maxie glanced and stiffened. Kyle noticed, yet started on his breakfast.

  "Way back. She had long hair then."

  Mimi looked at her mom, then Kyle. "What else?"

  Kyle chewed and swallowed. "Let's see." He sank back into the chair and sipped his coffee, eyeing Maxie from head to toe. She stilled, halfway to the table, then slid into the chair. He recognized the tense set of her shoulders immediately.

  "She had great legs and always wore makeup."

  Wide-eyed, Mimi looked at her mother, then Kyle. "Makeup? My mom?"

  Kyle nodded, watching Maxie squirm and enjoying the hell out of it.

  "What else?"

  He met Maxie's gaze across the table, his voice intimate. "She liked satin and dark chocolate and lobster dripping in butter." Her eyes softened as he spoke. "And riding on the back of my motorcycle. She has a freckle on her ankle shaped like a tear … and actually purrs when you rub her feet." Maxie's skin pinkened, and Kyle wondered if she was remembering the last time he'd done that. Then he glanced down at the little wide-eyed redhead, suddenly aware they weren't alone. "And she hates bugs."

  Mimi smiled, stabbing her pancakes. "Still does, likes caterpillars, though."

  "Why is that, you think?"

  Mimi was chewing and munching as she talked. "'Cause they turn into butterflies, and butterflies aren't slimy."

  Kyle chuckled softly, then focused on his meal.

  "Okay, you two, cut the chatter. Mimi, eat with your mouth closed and finish up. Kyle…" He looked up, arching a brow. She blushed. "Just finish," she said lamely.

  "Yes, ma'am," he said, grinning behind each bite, having a hard time keeping his eyes off her. Though her worn jeans and the sweater weren't the least bit provocative, they were wreaking havoc on his senses. There was a casual sensuality about Maxie Kyle had never found in other women. Were you looking for it? his mind countered, and Kyle examined his past conquests, none of which had lasted more than a couple months. No one came to mind, but his thoughts were interrupted when Mimi hopped up to go brash her teeth.

  And to Kyle, it felt as if a little of the light left the room. Yet he was alone with Max for the first time since Mimi arrived. A frown creased his brows. Now that he thought about it, she'd made a point of having her daughter close, always between them. Was she really that afraid to be alone with him? He didn't think so, then considered the eruption that occurred whenever they got close enough. A defensive move, he decided.

  As much as he liked being with both of them, he couldn't shake the nagging image every time he saw them together—of Maxie leaving him at the altar and sliding between the sheets with another man. The nagging persisted. Had she been leading him on seven years ago? Was she seeing this man when she was seeing him? Did she love him? Had she ever loved him? That hurt the worst, he thought. And the toughest question, the hardest reality kept seeping into his brain to torture him—if I had come after Max, would Mimi have been my child?

  Maxie ate, trying to ignore him. It was next to impossible. He smelled great looked so damn rugged in jeans and a sweatshirt and it didn't help that her daughter liked him. But then, Mimi liked everyone. Maxie thought of what he would do and say if he knew he'd had breakfast with his daughter. And she didn't even want to consider how Mimi would feel if she realized her daddy was in the house. In the past Mimi had asked a few times where her father was, and Maxie had been as honest as she could be. Her dad wasn't around when she was born, and he didn't know about her. Mimi knew that Maxie had loved him enough to create her, but not enough to stay together. Even as small as she was, her daughter was content to know she wasn't the reason she didn't have a father in her life—that it was her mother he didn't want. It had always been a delicate subject but with her grandparents, aunts and uncles showering Mimi with love and attention, Maxie didn't think she missed what she'd never had. And her ex-husband, Carl, well, that was three years ago and Mimi's memory of him was fading. She hoped. But a little part of her resented that he hadn't asked if Mimi was his. The silence stretched, him watching her, her finishing breakfast.

  Kyle's own thoughts were cut off as he witnessed a parade of emotion skate across Maxie's face and was about to ask her about it when she glanced at the clock.

  "Oh, she's going to be late."

  Maxie was up and calling to her daughter to get the brush and bands for her hair. Kyle sighed in the seat, munching on bacon. I get close and she runs, he thought. He heard the pair talking softly and smiled, shaking his head. Mimi was trying to come up with an excuse to stay home from school. Maxie had a response for her every suggestion. It was strange to be in the house with two females and even stranger that he liked it. A horn sounded, and Mimi dashed through the house. Maxie stood near the door, holding out her jacket and backpack, telling her that her lunch was already inside and not to forget her homework this time. Mimi was wrestling with the zipper when Kyle stepped into the foyer.

  "Are you going to be here when I get home, Mr. Hayden?"

  He nodded, not daring a glance at Maxie. "For a couple weeks, it looks like."

  "All right!" Mimi smiled hugely, and a knot yanked in his chest. She was a heartbreaker, he thought.

  The horn sounded again, closer, and Mimi faced her mom and Max bent to kiss her. "I love you, princess." They rubbed noses.

  "I love you, too, Mommy. Bye." She was at the door. "See ya, Mister Hayden."

  "See ya, short stack."

  She giggled and dashed out the door. Maxie stepped onto the porch as the bus door closed and Mimi waved, then got busy chatting with her friends.

  Maxie glanced back to see him a few feet behind her.

  He whistled softly. "She is one ball of energy."

  "Hey, she toned it down for you," she said, coming back inside. "I usually can't get her to stop asking questions or sit still long enough to eat breakfast."

  The phone rang and after a quick hello, she handed it to Kyle. "It's Jackson."

  Kyle took the call, answering in one-word responses, then popped into the kitchen.

  She looked up, her hands elbow deep in dishwater.

  "Got a flight."

  "A rescue?"

  "Yeah, rafters are stack somewhere upriver." He shrugged into his jacket. "I don't know when I'll be back…"

  "No problem."

  "I'll try to get word if I'm out there long," he said, taking a few steps closer, almost on instinct to kiss her. He stopped just short of doing it staring into her vivid green eyes, then at her lush mouth. He brought his gaze back to hers and was tempted. But every time he touched her, she shut him out and they were just feeling comfortable around each other again. He wasn't willing to ruin it

  He cleared his throat. "Ah, I guess I'll see you later."

  Her gaze slipped quickly over his features, her heart pounding in her ears from his nearness. "I'll be here," she murmured softly. He nodded, then left. Maxie sighed, swishing the soapy water, then went back to scrubbing the pan.

  She did not want him to kiss her just then, she thought. Really she didn't.

  Kyle's chopper was already on the pad when she returned from the grocery store. She hadn't expected him to be done before Mimi came home from school. With Mimi around, the conversation never lulled and the chatter would keep Kyle from starting something neither of them had a right to pursue.

  Why? a voice asked. Because I'll ruin it. I did seven years ago, she thought grabbing a sack and heading into the house. She turned back for another sack, then another, muttering to herself, debating whether she wanted something from him or not, or whether it was just old feelings getting her all hot and bothered when she looked at him. Or when he spoke, bringing up some old memories. Or when his gaze seemed
to probe and poke. Like he had this morning in the kitchen. She knew what he was doing—weakening her defenses. What she couldn't understand was why. She'd done the absolute worst to that man, and even though he'd forgiven her for leaving him at the altar, she figured he would stay far away from her and not dredge up any of the sweet erotic memories she'd kept tacked away for years.

  Reaching for the last grocery bag, Maxie stilled, frowning at the barn. She set the bag back into the Range Rover, slammed the rear door, then marched across her land to the barn.

  She stopped inside. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

  Kyle kept shoveling soiled hay into the wheelbarrow. "Gee, Max, didn't think I'd have to explain this part to you, of all people." He grinned and scooped and dumped.

  "You're not supposed to work here, Kyle."

  He shrugged. "I'm not supposed to get hungry after that obscene breakfast you served me, but I am."

  She moved closer. "Stop right now."

  He dumped a shovelful, then paused to look at her, his gloved hands propped on the handle. She was like a hen with wet feathers, he thought. "Make me."

  She blinked. "Excuse me?"

  "You heard me."

  She tipped her head to the side and eyed him. "You're doing this just to start a fight, aren't you?"

  "You're the one who's scrapping here, kiddo."

  "We've already discussed this."

  "Come on, Max." His expression pleaded. "I'm bored out of my mind. Besides, if I help, that gives you more time to spend with your daughter when she gets home."

  He had her there, the skunk.

  Kyle laid the shovel aside, then grasped the wheelbarrow handles, maneuvering it to the rear of the barn, up the ramp he'd seen her use days earlier. Finishing that, he removed his gloves and went to the open sink, washing his hands and face. He reached blindly for the towel, and Maxie walked to his side, shoving one in his hand.

  She was irritated. He'd cleaned all the stalls and yes, though she would have more time with Mimi, that didn't give her anything to occupy herself with in the meantime. Not really. And idle hands got her into trouble around Kyle.

  She turned away.

  "Running?"

  "I have groceries to take in."

  "Chicken."

  She whirled on him, anger in her eyes. "I have groceries."

  He simply grinned, swiping his jaw dry. "In this weather? They'll stay cold."

  "My vegetables will freeze." He stared, his expression even. "What?" she said nervously.

  "I'm waiting for the next excuse you'll give me for not being wherever I am."

  "I'm not making excuses."

  Like hell. She looked ready to bolt any second, Kyle thought. "You're not a good liar, either, Max." She fumed. "Then come closer." She took a couple steps. He shook his head.

  Maxie marched right up to him, staring him down. She felt like a kid confronting a bully, except the two-foot stretch between them did nothing to stop the heat racing through her blood. Or the anticipation of more as he moved nearer.

  He stared down at her. "You're trembling."

  Her chin lifted. "Am not."

  He chuckled softly, his gaze holding hers. Stubborn woman.

  "So … what does this prove?"

  "That you're hiding behind chores to avoid me."

  Her gaze narrowed dangerously.

  "If you're not, then let's go riding."

  "You don't like riding."

  His warm gaze swept heavily over her, telling her exactly whom he wanted to ride. "That was in the past."

  What was he saying? she wondered, feeling flushed under his steamy look. Was he willing to shed everything they'd had before, for something new now? Just as the warm thought blossomed in her brain, it died. Her deception about Mimi was enough to keep Maxie from getting her hopes up. She couldn't take it if she hurt him again.

  Suddenly he tipped his head and kissed her, tight and warm. Kyle felt her jolt of surprise, yet kept kissing her, unhurried, coaxing, until she responded to him, pressing her mouth harder and inching closer. Then he drew back enough to look her in the eyes.

  He liked that it took her a second to open them.

  "Kyle. Please don't start this." The plea in her voice wasn't hard to recognize, and Kyle's brows drew down.

  "We never finished, Max. I can't just ignore it. And neither can you."

  Yes, she could. But ignoring the pangs of feelings was an hourly struggle, Maxie thought. Her defenses were weak to his smiles and gentleness, but the consequences were too great. Letting him into her heart meant revealing her secrets, and not hurting him was suddenly as important as not hurting her daughter. Frustrated, she rubbed her hands over her face and muttered, "Jeez. Do I have to worry about you, too?"

  He scowled. There was a lot more behind that statement than words, Kyle thought. "I'm a big boy, Max. I can handle anything you've got."

  She looked at him. He was footing himself, Maxie thought. "I'm not alone anymore, Kyle. When I make a choice, it's not just for me."

  His scowl deepened, and he caught her shoulders. "I'm not looking for some casual sex while I'm here, Max. So get that right out of your head." His expression softened, and he slid his hands up the sides of her throat, cupping her jaw and sinking his fingers into her hair. He gazed deeply into her eyes. "Mimi is a great kid, but she has nothing to do with us."

  Oh, yes, she does, Maxie thought. Maintaining Mimi's happiness was what had kept her levelheaded and emotionally distant from him since he'd arrived. And it was fast becoming the only thread left.

  She looked exhausted, Kyle thought, and wondered what was going on behind those pretty green eyes. "When was the last time you thought of yourself?" he asked in a sympathetic tone.

  Her gaze sharpened. "As I recall, your first insult was that I was selfish and only considered my own feelings."

  "So I was a jerk," he admitted, and her lips curved. "I'm better now." He tipped her head and pressed his lips to hers, gently. She accepted it for about two seconds, then backed out of his touch.

  "What are you so afraid of?" he said. He could almost feel her distance herself.

  She glanced away, and he noticed the quick gloss in her eyes. Her expression was suddenly so defeated it caught him in the chest.

  "Of making mistakes. Of ruining my life and Mimi's—" she looked at him "—and yours."

  She's more than a little gun-shy, he thought, trying to see beneath the wall she'd thrown up around herself. "Is that why you close yourself off from everyone?" She was about to deny the charge when he cut in with, "I've been here a few days, Max. You've isolated yourself out here."

  "I like privacy."

  He sent her a disgusted look. "You're practically a hermit."

  "Fine!" She threw her hands up. "I'm a hermit." She grabbed a broom and entered a stall, sweeping. "If that's what it takes to protect my daughter, then I'll keep it that way."

  "She's not here."

  She stilled, meeting his gaze. "She's always here, Kyle. She's everything to me." She's part of you, she thought with a jolt of unchecked longing.

  Kyle stepped into the stall, holding her gaze. "Is there room in there for me?"

  She groaned. That she did not need to hear. "You don't want me, Kyle. You just think you do. That's hormones talking." She swept furiously around her feet.

  Then he was suddenly inches from her, advancing, forcing her to let go of the broom as he backed her up against the wall. He braced his hands on the surface on either side of her head, hemming her in.

  Maxie flattened her hands on the slats to keep from reaching out to him.

  "That's the second time in our history that you've assumed you know what I want, Max," he growled, a hint of anger coloring his tone as he shifted his body closer to hers. "And you're not taking the choice away from me this time."

  That sounded too much like a challenge, and she tilted her head back, meeting his gaze head-on. "I'm not giving you one."

  "I don't need your permissio
n." He shifted his knee between her thighs, and Maxie's heart shot to her throat. "You can't have me."

  His arms stretched above her, he gave her a long appraising look. "Having your body was never a problem, baby. But years ago, I was young and foolishly thought your heart went with it." He ground a sudden kiss to the bend of her throat, then whispered close to her ear, "I'm wiser now."

  She closed her eyes, her senses clawing for more. "But I'm not," she murmured, gasping for breath after breath as he kissed her throat, nipped her lobe. "I'm not."

  "Risk it," he growled, covering her mouth with his, his kiss strong yet unhurried, dark with promise yet restrained. The pull was unlike any other. He didn't touch her, didn't sweep her into his arms, but simply kissed and kissed her, his body a layer of heat away from hers.

  Maxie was losing ground fast. The quiet determination in him scared her, the patient way he kissed her tearing through her resistance like a blade through paper. And still he didn't touch her. She could duck and run, go hide in the house till she regained control, but his mouth was rolling heavily over hers—knocking the fight out of her. Then his tongue came into play. She whimpered, greedy for more, for the feel of him against her, and when he pulled back slightly, her mouth sought to keep contact.

  She reached, her hands hovering near his jaw, but not touching. And still, they kissed, only their lips touching. There was a tenuous shield between them, and Kyle waited, his body on fire for hers, his patience stretched thin. But he wanted her to come to him, to touch him and admit that there was more than desire between them.

  To risk more than a kiss with him.

  A little sound worked in her throat a pain, a plea.

  Then Maxie caught his jaw in her hands, pressing him harder to her mouth.

  Kyle lost it. He sandwiched her against the wall, wrapping his arms around her. She moaned with pleasure, clamping his thigh between hers.

  The well-stoked blaze flared hotly, and she moaned, digging her fingers into his hair and holding him. His hand slid downward, cupping her bottom, squeezing and pushing her to the hardness growing between them. She arched against it.

 

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