Secret Surrogate

by Delores Fossen

  “If they’d waited until she was somewhere more private, they could have made sure she was dead. Left no loose ends. Perhaps even made it look like a real accident. After all, she was sick. How hard would it have been to incapacitate a sick woman?”

  Both stayed quiet a moment. Thinking. Trying to make the pieces of the puzzle fit.

  “So, where does that take us?” she asked. “This was perhaps a crime of opportunity? Maybe not even connected to the illegal surrogacy activity? In fact, this could have been some kind of grandstanding fiasco meant to make Dupont or Windham look very guilty.”

  He thought of Cordelia.

  Lucas figured Kylie did, too.

  And then he immediately thought of Kylie.

  It was as if he had attention deficit disorder. Too many thoughts. Too many distractions. Too little focus. Or better yet—the wrong kind of focus. Yeah. There was definitely nothing semipeaceful about this whirlwind that had taken over his brain.

  There was only one thing that should be on his mind: catching the kidnappers and their boss so he could ensure Kylie’s safety. That was it. Nothing more.

  But, of course, knowing that didn’t make it so.

  So many feelings were going through him. All the unresolved pain from Marissa’s death. The need to protect Kylie. Her scent. Yes, her scent—not the bubble gum, either—but something warm and inviting. The way she moved. The way she looked at him. This was definitely a male-female thing, and it was gaining momentum at an alarming speed. After all, even Tiffany Smith’s death couldn’t cool him down.

  “You must be exhausted,” he said, almost hoping that was true. “When we can get back to the ranch, I’ll fix you something to eat, and then you can turn in early for the night.”

  She slid her hand over her stomach and rubbed in wide, gentle circles. “I don’t think food will sit well with little Lucas here. Not to worry. Nothing serious. Just some indigestion.”

  That drew his attention to her belly, and he thought of a way he could take her mind off things. “You never did ask why I didn’t have Finn ’fess up about the baby’s gender.”

  “Yeah. Why didn’t you?”

  “It probably seems weird, but I wanted to keep it a surprise. At least for a little while longer, until things settle down.”

  She paused, nodded. “I understand that.”

  There. He saw it. Some of the tension drained from her eyes. Her stomach massage slowed. Her shoulders relaxed just a bit. It was enough encouragement for Lucas to continue.

  “Can you imagine me being a father?” he asked.

  “Of course.” She said it as if jumping to his defense. “You’ll be great. And I know you’ve always wanted kids.”

  That put a lump in his throat. But he pushed it and the thoughts of Marissa and their unborn child aside. There was nothing he could do to help them now, but he sure as heck could help Kylie and this baby.

  “I’ve heard diapering can be tricky. I’ve signed up for a class,” he shared with her.

  “A class?” Her tongue went in her cheek. “Oh, to be a fly on the wall. The rough and rugged cowboy tackles a newborn and Huggies.”

  “There’s a feeding and burping class, too.”

  Her lips quivered. “You’re making that up.”

  “Scout’s honor.”

  “You were never a Scout.” She stared at him. “You smiled,” she added.

  “Did I?” But he was fully aware that he had. It seemed odd, as if it’d been so long since he’d given those particular facial muscles a workout that they actually felt stiff.

  “There’s hope for you yet, Lucas Creed.”

  He didn’t know exactly what she was doing, but it was working. Here he’d been trying to cheer her up, but she was doing the same thing. Kylie was taking the weight of the world off his shoulders. And right now, there was an awful lot of weight on him.

  He hadn’t discussed his cases with Marissa. Though there’d been only a few serious crimes in Fall Creek, there had been a death resulting from a domestic dispute and several fatalities from car accidents. Early in their marriage, he’d brought up a detail or two of a case, but it had bothered Marissa to the point of giving her nightmares. He’d learned to leave his badge at the office.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Kylie blew another bubble and then used her tongue to gather the pink gum back into her mouth. Despite the seriousness of their conversation, that caused him to do a double take. For such a simple, mundane thing, it seemed awfully erotic. It caused the blood to rush to his head. And to other parts of him.

  Ah, sheesh.

  Not this, not now.

  She was exhausted. Had indigestion. Was just coming down from a terrible ordeal. He needed to think with his brain and not the brainless part of him below the waist.

  “You’re upset,” she said. She put her gum into the foil wrapper and discarded it in her purse. “Did you think of something we’ve missed?”

  He almost asked why she thought that, but then Lucas followed her gaze to the death grip he had on his steering wheel. His knuckles were actually white.

  In addition to attention deficit disorder, he was also wearing his heart on his sleeve.

  Or rather, on his knuckles.

  “It’s nothing,” he lied.

  She stared at him. “You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure you don’t want to know.”

  She waited a moment. “Oh.”

  Which meant she knew.

  Another pause. “What if I confessed I feel it too?” she asked.

  He mentally cursed. Great. Here they were up to their necks in danger, and he was getting an erection just thinking about her. “I’d tell you not to confess it.”

  “That won’t make it go away.”

  “It’s still better left unsaid.”

  “It could be a lot of things,” Kylie said, obviously ignoring his not-to-confess response. “Self-imposed celibacy—”

  “Has a short shelf life,” he supplied.

  She made a hmm sound, but it had just a tinge of amusement and frustration to it. “So, it could be just dark and primal animal urges.”

  He liked that term because it implied simple lust. But there was just one problem with labeling it simple lust—he’d lusted before. Plenty of times. But it hadn’t felt like this. This was an overwhelming, consuming need that would probably drive him crazy.

  Lucas came to a stop in front of the ranch, as close as he could to the front porch, and both of them just sat in silence for a few moments. Even though the sun was on the verge of setting, there was still plenty of light. He didn’t let it give him a false sense of security. Nothing would after Tiffany’s death.

  He examined the perimeter of the house. Each sprawling live oak and pecan tree that dotted the landscape. Every shadow. Any place that a kidnapper might hide.

  “I don’t feel the compulsion to hum so I think all is well,” Kylie mumbled. “How about you?”

  He considered that. Considered that it was safer to be inside the house than sitting in his truck, where they were stationary targets. “Let’s go.”

  The moment they stepped from the truck, the dogs came barreling out of the barn. With everything else going on, Lucas had somehow forgotten about Sherlock and Watson, Finn’s prize Dobermans.

  But he didn’t forget them now.

  Both came right at Kylie and him. Like oil-black streaks, complete with barking and snarling. The dogs skidded to a stop only a few yards away, but they didn’t stop with their aggressive behavior.

  Kylie moved closer to him, so that the side of her left breast brushed against his arm. She was the only spot of warmth in the chilly air.

  “Sit!” Lucas ordered.

  And much to his surprise, they obeyed. No tail-wagging or other friendly gestures, but the dogs didn’t lunge after Kylie and Lucas when they stepped onto the porch, unlocked the door and went into the house. The newly installed security system immediately began to whine, and Lucas punched in the numbers
on the keypad to temporarily disarm it. He rearmed it the moment they shut the door.

  “Those Dobermans hate me,” Lucas grumbled, tossing his keys onto the table in the entry.

  “They hate everyone but Finn,” Kylie pointed out. “They’re cut-rate security, though.”

  “You haven’t seen the price tag on that dog food he buys for them. It’d be cheaper to buy a side of prime beef.”

  Kylie smiled. Or rather attempted it. She did manage a nervous laugh, but there was no humor in it. “I lied about the humming. I did want to hum. But I really wanted to get inside.”

  “Yeah. I know.”

  She paused.

  Kylie didn’t have to say a word, but he knew what she was thinking. Their conversation about dark and primal urges had zapped both their bodies into a frenzy.

  “We can resist this,” he said.

  Her eyebrow arched and Lucas shrugged.

  He thought of plenty of reasons why he shouldn’t pull her into his arms, why he should back away. The danger. His badge. The need for him to remain professional, objective and focused. They were all good solid reasons.

  And yet none of them stopped him.

  She looked up at him. But not just any ordinary look. The look. Her eyes were ripe with need for comfort. And more. Much more.

  Her breath was already thin and fast. He saw the pulse jump on her throat. And that air just kept on sizzling. Lucas ignored every warning his body was sending him and gathered her into his arms.

  But that wasn’t all he did.

  He leaned in, and his mouth claimed hers. The sensations slammed through him as the kiss intensified. Fast. Hard. Strong. Like a fist. Resisting wasn’t possible. So he took everything she offered. Everything. And upped the stakes.

  Grappling for position, she turned and shoved him against the door and went after his shirt. Fast and frantic. Like her breath. Like the hot, needy look in her eyes. It was a race. Against what, Lucas didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. All he knew was that they had to have each other now.

  Kylie cursed when his coat wouldn’t cooperate and when she encountered the shirt and its buttons underneath.

  Lucas didn’t help her. He was on his own mission. One that required the use of both hands. He seized the bottom of her sweater and shoved it up. The stretchable-waist pants went down, just beneath her belly. He found her panties. Cotton and lace. Not much of a barrier at all.

  With his mouth on hers, Lucas slid his hand into that lacy barrier and found exactly what he wanted. Her. Hot and wet. Ready. He sank his fingers into her, sliding his thumb against the most sensitive part of her. And he went deeper. If they were going to cross these boundaries, he sure as hell intended to make it worth the ride.

  He succeeded.

  She made a sound. A rich, feminine moan of pleasure. Her eyelids fluttered down. She slid her leg along the outside of his. And she moved with him. Pushing against him. Sliding her hips forward. Moving in rhythm of the strokes of his fingers.

  “You’re going to have to do something about this,” she insisted.

  “I’m trying.”

  “The bed?” she managed. “The floor?”

  It was tempting. He suddenly wanted her more than his next breath. But if he took her to bed, or to the floor, he wouldn’t be able to think. And even though parts of him shouted that this wasn’t a thinking kind of situation, it was. Kylie already had more than enough to deal with. In the past few days, she’d been through hell. So, while his body was yelling for him to take her right then, right there, Lucas knew that wasn’t the right thing to do.

  He continued the strokes of his fingers. Continued to push her to the edge.

  “Why aren’t we doing this together?” she asked.

  But she didn’t just ask. She reached for his zipper and hit pay dirt. She closed her hand over his erection and nearly had him jumping out of his jeans.

  Once he got his eyes uncrossed, he caught her hand to stop her from fully unzipping him. “If you do that, I can’t think.”

  “And that would be…bad?” She moaned and tossed her head back when his fingers went deeper inside her.

  “That’s it,” he whispered. “That’s the look I want to see.”

  “Really? This look?” She blinked, obviously trying to focus. “It can’t be very attractive. I’m about to fall.”

  “No. You’re beautiful, and you’re about to fly. Fly for me, Kylie. Let me feel you when you fly.”

  She did. Lucas felt her body close around his fingers. Felt her soar until she reached a shattering climax.

  And Lucas was right there to catch her.

  He felt something brush against his arm and heard the crash. Even though her eyes were glazed from passion, he could see her fight through the haze to see what had happened. Lucas did the same.

  His body went on full alert, and he reeled around. Searching for whatever had made that noise.

  His first thought—and not a pleasant thought, either—was that there was an intruder in the house.

  Chapter Twelve

  Lucas reached for his gun, but Kylie saw him stop in mid-reach when he glanced down at the floor. She looked down, as well. There was the silver photo frame, the glass shattered.

  Marissa’s picture.

  Kylie wanted to ask what had happened, how it’d gotten there, but she didn’t have enough breath gathered to speak. So, she did a little mental detective work. She’d noticed Marissa’s picture on top of the Mexican-tiled table in the foyer. Unfortunately, that table was right next to where Lucas and she had been groping each other. One of them had no doubt knocked it over.

  Talk about a symbolic interruption.

  Now that the wild passion had been sated and her body was returning to normal, Kylie quickly fixed her clothes so that she wouldn’t be standing half-dressed in front of Lucas. Not that he would have noticed. He had his attention nailed to that picture.

  Lucas stooped down, slowly, and in the same motion, he slipped his gun back into his shoulder holster. He picked up the frame first, or rather what was left of it, since it was now disconnected. He touched it as if it were the most fragile, most precious thing on Earth.

  Kylie felt the ache in her heart. Not just for Lucas and the guilt he was no doubt feeling. But the old guilt returning, as well.

  Without looking at her, he reached up and put the picture itself into the table drawer and then began to retrieve the pieces. One by one. Again, slowly.

  “It’s just glass,” he mumbled.

  “Yes,” she agreed because she didn’t know what else to say. Glass. Something to protect the photograph. Too bad they didn’t make some kind of protection for the human heart because Kylie was certain that her heart would be broken into a million pieces before this was over.

  Lucas stood, disappeared into the kitchen, and she heard the sound of the glass being dumped into the garbage. She dreaded his return, dreaded what she would see in his eyes. Her blood pressure shot up when his footsteps grew closer, heralding his reentry into the foyer.

  He stopped in the arched opening that divided the family-style kitchen from the living room and foyer.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  Since her head was still fuzzy from the orgasm and the interruption, Kylie decided it was a good time to hush and let him finish. Because quite frankly, she didn’t have a clue why he’d said that.

  “I know how hard it was, is,” he corrected, “for you to have this baby. Thank you.”

  Kylie couldn’t stand the confusion any longer. “Did I miss something? One minute we’re doing the whole dark and primal sex thing against the door. The picture falls. You pick up the glass. Take it to the kitchen. And…okay, here’s where things really get confusing for me—you obviously have some kind of mental breakdown in there?”

  The right corner of his mouth lifted. “No breakdown. I just came to my senses. I’ve been rude to you. Angry. And God knows how many mixed signals I’ve sent. I want to be honest with you, Kylie. I care for you.”


  Her heart soared.

  “I really do care,” he continued. He shifted. Not just his body. His gaze, too. “But I’m not sure I can ever get over what happened.”

  Her heart crashed.

  And she silently cursed for allowing herself to believe, even for a few seconds.

  Against her better judgment, she went to him. “Lucas, if you’re worried about me falling apart after I have this baby, then don’t. I’m a survivor. Have been since sixth grade, when my mom ran off to find herself and I moved in with Grandma Meg.” She waved off the sympathetic look he gave her. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. Because of Grandma Meg, I had to be a survivor because I was considered a flake by association.”

  He shook his head, obviously caught himself in what would be a polite but obvious white lie, and then shrugged. “Okay, you were the only student in any rural Texas high school to bring tofu pitas to school. And you wore sandals that had soles made from recycled tires.”

  Yes. She remembered those sandals. Comfortable but definitely not a positive fashion statement.

  “I’ll let you in on a secret, Lucas. I was torn between loving the only person who really loved me—Meg—and trying to live the life of a normal kid. I couldn’t wait to shake off all those things that made me different from everyone else. I wanted to fit in. I wanted respect. That’s why I became a deputy. It took me over a year of therapy to realize that, by the way. That’s why I was working at Energizer Bunny speed while I wore that badge. The feet ahead of the brain.”

  Kylie paused and drew in a slow breath. “Funny though, after everything that happened, after I resigned, Grandma Meg’s house was the only place I wanted to be. It was a sanctuary.”

  “And your prison,” he promptly pointed out. “You cut yourself off from people, Kylie, especially the people you’d known since you were a kid.”

  “I couldn’t face them. Couldn’t face you.” She made the mistake of facing him now. He was standing there, very much the cowboy in his jeans and white cotton shirt.