Welcome Home, Daddy

by Carrie Weaver

  “When will we discuss it?”

  “I know you don’t owe it to me, but please give me more time?”

  “I don’t want to miss a minute more. He needs to know I’m his dad.”

  “Shh.” She nodded toward Micah as he came down the hallway from his bedroom, a cowboy hat pulled low over his eyes. He crawled into the fort again.

  Annie stepped closer to check out the construction. “Chairs and blankets. Why didn’t I think of that?”

  “Maybe it’s a guy thing.” Drew shrugged. “That’s his Indiana Jones hat. Believe me, Indie won’t be listening to a word we say. He’s too busy looking for treasure and bad guys in the cave.”

  “Indiana Jones? How does he know about Indie?”

  “I rented the movie. He loved it.”

  “That’s got to be PG-13. Inappropriate for a toddler.”

  Drew sounded wounded when he said, “I covered his eyes during the scary parts.”

  Planting her hands on her hips, Annie seized upon what he’d said, aware she was only postponing the inevitable. But she was desperate.

  “Did you ever think to ask me if it was okay to show him that movie? Did you ever think I might have kept that kind of junk away from him for almost two years for a reason? That one of my more important jobs as a mother is to keep him from exposure to risky or violent behavior? And then you casually pop it in the DVD player like it’s the most natural thing in the world.”

  “It’s not like I was showing the kid porn or horror flicks.”

  Annie was so angry she could barely contain it. “I don’t want him growing up thinking weapons and danger are cool. I want him to embrace empathy and kindness and tolerance.”

  Drew ran a hand through his hair, pacing a step or two. Then he swung around, his eyes bright. “You’re so wrong if you think shielding him from life will make him a better, more sensitive man. I felt more empathy and kindness from my buddies in Iraq than I would have in any number of touchy-feely Mister Rogers’s neighborhoods. These men and women admitted they were afraid at times, but they always came through, and I knew they had my back. They knew I had theirs. There is no greater empathy than that. Using a gun doesn’t change it.”

  Annie looked down at her shoes. Drew’s passion surprised and shamed her. “I’m sorry, I had no idea. Obviously, we’ve got a lot to talk about in deciding how our son should be raised.”

  His throat worked as he got his emotions under control.

  She touched his arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to start an argument.”

  The lie almost choked her. He was getting too close, too soon. Too possessive of Micah. And it scared the hell out of her.

  His stiff posture told her she’d crossed a line.

  “Please, can we have this discussion later when we’re both calmer?”

  “Yeah. I better go.” He started toward the fort in the corner, presumably to tell Micah goodbye.

  “Drew?”

  He halted. “What?”

  “Will you go to the party with us?” It was as much of an olive branch as she could muster at the moment.

  “Because you feel guilty or because you want my company?”

  “Both.” She raised her chin. “And I’d kind of like you there as backup.”

  “Fair enough. But don’t think the subject is closed.”

  “I know better.”

  Annie suspected she had only seen a trace of Drew’s passion. And the thought both terrified and intrigued her.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE PARTY PALACE WAS unlike any place Drew had ever been in in his thirty-three years. He felt as if he’d landed in the twilight zone. The noise was deafening, nearly as bad as a mortar attack.

  Laughing, shrieking children ran everywhere. Bells and sirens rang on games. And a few kids, probably as on edge as Drew felt, stood on the sidelines, crying.

  Drew had the feeling he might want to join them by the end of the evening.

  Annie glanced at him, raising an eyebrow, as they stood surveying the chaos. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “I thought you were exaggerating.”

  But Micah’s face was transformed with delight. He tugged on Annie’s hand. “Let’s go!”

  Drew chuckled at the child’s infectious joy. Suddenly, he saw the huge room through his son’s eyes and it became an exciting adventure.

  “This way,” Annie called over her shoulder as she followed the sign that read Barton Birthday, with an arrow under it.

  Adventure aside, he was grateful to see several private rooms. He was even more grateful when they entered the Barton room and the noise level dropped by at least three decibels.

  “I’m so glad you could come.” A trim, blond woman patted Micah’s head. “Max is over there. Why don’t you go join him.”

  Micah didn’t have to be told twice. He dashed off to see his friend.

  No hanging back or social anxiety for his kid.

  “Hello, I’m Kara.”

  He shook hands with her. “I’m Drew.”

  Kara raised an eyebrow expectantly, as if prodding him to explain his relationship to Micah. Or Annie.

  But Drew had no intention of falling into that trap. Annie stepped forward. “I’m sorry I forgot to introduce you. Drew is an old friend of mine.”

  He tried not to wince. It made him feel like an unwanted tagalong. A pity date.

  “Yes, well, welcome.”

  “Thanks. Where do you want this?” He nodded to the large, gaily wrapped package he carried.

  “On the table over there. Then feel free to find a seat anywhere. They should be bringing in the pizza any minute now. The cake will be after the games.”

  “Thanks, Kara.” Annie nudged him toward the loot table. She followed close behind.

  It was amusing to see her out of her element. At the apartment, she was the undisputed expert on all things Micah.

  She rearranged packages to make room for theirs on one of six long, rectangular tables. “Can you believe the excess?” she whispered. “It’s not as if one child can ever play with this many toys.”

  “Lucky Max.”

  She snorted. “Hardly. The rule of thumb for kids’ parties is one guest for each year of age. Max is two, hence two guests. How many kids do you think are here?”

  Drew surveyed the room. “Twenty-five or more.”

  “You’re probably close. Not only did Kara invite Max’s entire preschool class, but also the class next door—because she didn’t want any hurt feelings.”

  “So she was being considerate. That’s a problem how?”

  “She was not being considerate. She’s showing off and it’s a bad example for Max.”

  “I agree it’s a little over the top, but what’s the harm—”

  “You’ll see.” Annie adjusted her glasses.

  It was almost as if she expected Max to sprout horns while his head made a three-hundred-sixty-degree rotation.

  “I think that guy wants us to join him.” Drew nodded in the direction of a dark-haired man waving them over to a table near the front of the room.

  “Damn. I guess we’d better get the cross-examination over with.”

  Drew felt decidedly underdressed as he surveyed the guy’s suit and tie while they wended their way among the tables to reach him.

  He stuck out his hand and Drew shook it. “Bob Barton. You must be Annie’s new boyfriend.”

  Drew felt Annie stiffen beside him.

  He decided the less he said, the better. “Drew Vincent.”

  “Annie, don’t you just look beautiful.”

  “Hi, Bob.”

  The man enfolded her in a crushing hug. He held her just a fraction longer than necessary and he had damn near leered at her when commenting on her appearance.

  Drew had the urge to make some sort of possessive statement like, “Get your hands off my woman.” But he suspected Annie would deck him or lecture him. So he kept his mouth shut.

  “Sit down, you two. The table of
honor.” Bob’s hearty laugh grated on Drew’s nerves.

  “Annie, don’t you think we should sit closer to Micah, in case he needs help with his food?”

  She threw him a look of pure gratitude. “Of course.”

  But Bob held up his hand. “Now, don’t be a hover mother, Annie. This is a time for the kids to cut loose. And the parents to chat.”

  Even though he agreed in principle, Drew’s instinct was to defend Annie. His expression must have been transparent, because Annie leaned closer and squeezed his arm, warning him to play nice.

  He recalled her saying something about Kara being a fellow interpreter. Annie’s work life might suffer if he didn’t mind his manners. “Um, yeah, we’ll sit down. But we’ll still want to keep an eye out for Micah.”

  Bob clapped him on the shoulder. “Good man. It’s about time Micah had a male role model. It’s not healthy for a boy to just be around women.”

  Annie turned her head a fraction, so Drew was the only one to see her roll her eyes. He was surprised she didn’t reach out and smack Bob upside the head.

  As it was, Drew was itching to. The guy kept staring at Annie’s chest.

  “Um, yeah, role models are important. Annie does a great job on her own, though.”

  “Defending your woman.” Bob slapped him on the shoulder again. “I like that.”

  “So do I.” Annie’s smile was deceptively sweet as she tucked her hand in Drew’s arm. Drew wondered if Bob knew how close he was to annihilation.

  Drew surreptitiously glanced at his watch as he sat. Two more hours of this. He was damn near nostalgic for the honesty of barracks life.

  Just then, servers streamed into the room carrying pizzas.

  The kids cheered.

  The adults sighed with relief.

  Drew caught Annie glancing regretfully at a table closer to the children, where a lone couple dared to be labeled overprotective.

  A smart thing, too, when midway through the meal, Max climbed on the table and did an impromptu tap dance in the middle of a pizza. Then started flinging that pizza at his guests. The couple halted the ensuing food fight by disarming him and his second in command, a redheaded tyke, and pulled Max kicking and screaming from the table.

  Bob got up and barreled over. “Take your hands off my son. There’s no need for that. He was only having fun.”

  Drew bent his head and murmured in Annie’s ear, “If I’d have done something like that when I was a kid, I wouldn’t have sat down for a week.”

  Annie grinned. “That was then. Nowadays, parents use time-outs instead.”

  “Yeah, good luck with that.” Drew nodded toward Max, who had escaped his captor and was racing around the room, screaming at the top of his lungs. “Of course, my parents had the sense to limit my soda consumption, too.”

  “Oh, but Bob would think that was stifling Max’s fun.”

  Drew enjoyed the shared moment. They were a team, if only for the evening.

  Then a warm little body wedged itself between them.

  Micah, his eyes wide, scrambled up to sit on his mother’s lap.

  “Poor guy’s overwhelmed, huh?” Drew asked.

  “I was afraid of this.”

  “He’s safe here between us.”

  The stiffness eased from Annie’s posture. “Yes, he is safe.”

  Man, he could get used to this.

  ANNIE UNLOCKED HER APARTMENT door, opening it wide for Drew to carry in a sleeping Micah.

  “Thanks, Drew. He’s much harder to pack around than when he was an infant. You’d think I wouldn’t need to go to the gym.” She laughed self-consciously.

  “Yeah, he’s deadweight,” Drew murmured, following her to Micah’s room. “But you don’t need the gym, Annie. You’re fine just the way you are.”

  As far as compliments went, it was understated at best. Yet she still felt pleased. “Thanks. It’s nice to hear.”

  “Not that I was looking at you that way. I just wanted you to know that having a baby hasn’t changed you.”

  She grinned. “Okay, I’ll accept that as a compliment coming from a friend. And you get points in the empathy column.”

  “Whew, that’s good. I sure need them.”

  She didn’t want to disturb their truce by revisiting the Indiana Jones infraction.

  Drew nodded toward the dresser. “If you’ll pick out some pajamas, I’ll wrangle him into them.”

  “He’ll need a clean diaper, too, I’m sure. I doubt it will wake him—he’s completely zonked out.”

  The truth of what she’s said was confirmed when Drew placed Micah on the changing table and the boy didn’t even twitch.

  Annie got a lump in her throat as she watched him maneuver Micah out of his clothes.

  Had her father taken such tender care of her at the same age?

  She glanced up to find Drew studying her.

  “I’ll go get a washcloth.” She escaped his scrutiny and returned with a warm cloth to bathe Micah’s face, neck and hands. By that time, she’d regained her composure. “He really needs a bath, but this will have to do.”

  Drew held out his hand for the cloth. Somehow, she was reluctant to relinquish it. As if by giving up this intimate task, she was giving up custody of her child.

  Shaking her head, she let him have it before it was too cool.

  She tried not to watch Drew, but couldn’t seem to stop. Amazing, how a man so strong and masculine could be so gentle.

  It brought back disturbing memories of how sweet his hands had felt on her body almost three years ago. And made her long to feel them again.

  Annie turned so he wouldn’t see her confusion.

  When he tucked Micah into bed, Drew was smiling. The love she read in his eyes intensified the ache in her chest. She didn’t know if it was for what she’d lost as a five-year-old when her father had plummeted down a mountain, or for the partner and soul mate she couldn’t allow herself to look for.

  She kissed Micah on the forehead and tucked the blanket more securely around him.

  “I better go,” Drew said, heading out of the bedroom.

  She closed the door behind her as she followed, disturbed to realize she didn’t want him to leave.

  “I think a glass of wine is in order first. It’s the least we deserve after that fiasco called a party.”

  He grinned. “I hate to admit it, but I’m a little on edge.”

  “You hide it well.”

  “Being a soldier is as much about mental resilience as physical. Fake it till you make it.”

  “If you say so. Have a seat and I’ll pour the wine. It’s a white zinfandel. I hope that’s not too sweet for you?”

  “I’m not much of a wine drinker, so I’m sure it’ll be fine. A change of pace.”

  “I wish I could offer you a beer….”

  He leaned against the kitchen counter. “I’m not much of a drinker at all these days.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “You managed to knock back a few beers that night we met. Preflight jitters?”

  “Yes and no. If I was in a bar back then, I drank. But my jitters had more to do with you.”

  “Me? Really?” Annie couldn’t help but smile at the thought. “I made you nervous?”

  He accepted the glass of wine, but didn’t move toward the living room. He seemed comfortable in the kitchen.

  She leaned against the counter beside him, taking a sip of her wine.

  Drew swirled the wine, but didn’t drink. “You made me nervous because I couldn’t quite figure you out. Now I know why the clothes didn’t quite match the vibes I was getting. They weren’t yours.”

  “What vibes were those?”

  He hesitated. “That you weren’t a quick-fling kind of woman. It meant something if you slept with a man.”

  “But I did have a quick fling with you,” she pointed out, refusing to be let off the hook, no matter how badly she wanted absolution.

  “And you cried afterward. I sure could’ve used a drink then. I fel
t like such a jerk. Even worse when you took off without saying anything.”

  Annie’s cheeks warmed. “I’m sorry. I…I’d made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t be impulsive where men were concerned, and was upset that I’d broken it. What would you have said if I had stayed?”

  “Probably a lot of postsex B.S.”

  “Figures.” She was vaguely disappointed by his answer, but admired his honesty, anyway.

  He reached over and fingered a lock of her hair. “But I sure as hell would have asked for your phone number and e-mail address. It would have been nice to have someone else to write to.”

  “You would have? I thought you’d forget all about me once you got over there.”

  “Not likely. I thought about you all the time.” His gaze was intense. “Some days, that was all that got me through.”

  She’d meant something to him. He hadn’t seen her as just some military groupie or one-night stand.

  She would never let him know how much it meant to hear him say it. “You’re not just trying to get in my bed again, are you?”

  His grin sent a charge straight to her heart. “The thought of being in your bed again is downright tantalizing. But no. I’m not.”

  “I’m curious. Why’d you think about me? I’m sure you’ve had plenty of women.” Long-legged, gorgeous women who didn’t cry after having perhaps the most phenomenal sex of their lives.

  “If I closed my eyes I could smell the scent of your shampoo, feel the texture of your skin…” His voice lowered to a sexy growl. “See every beautiful inch of your body.”

  His words brought it back in vivid detail. So vivid that her breathing grew shallow, her pulse raced.

  When she could speak without sounding like an idiot, she said, “Um, I don’t think this is such a good idea.”

  “No, probably not. I thought you should know, anyway.”

  Annie took another sip of her wine, resisting the temptation to gulp it down.

  “Drew, can I ask you a question?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I noticed you’re not drinking your wine. I hope I didn’t put you on the spot…if you…have a problem with, um, alcohol.” She rushed to assure him, “It won’t make a difference, but…it’s supposed to be hereditary.”