He set the little girl down and walked over to her mother. “It’s a three-season bag with Polarguard Delta insulation that keeps you warm down to twenty degrees Fahrenheit. It has men’s and women’s designs.”
She gave him a wry look. “Don’t tell me. This is the men’s.”
“Right in one. How’d you know?”
“Because it’s giving me problems and has the potential to become a major headache.”
He laughed. “It also comes in regular and long lengths.”
“This must be long.”
“Right again. And what was your first clue?”
“Other than a visual,” she said, “it won’t fold up.”
“So it’s all the bag’s fault?”
“Of course.”
“Riley,” Kimmie said, pulling on his hand, “can you fix it?”
“It’s not broken.” He smiled down at her. “But I can fold it up.”
There was an expression on Kimmie’s flushed face of utter and complete trust in him. The knot in his chest tightened again and turned painful. He thought about another child, one he’d loved and lost. The boy had been two when his biological father decided he wanted him. He would be about a year younger than Kimmie was now—talking coherently, having impressions of the world, starting school. Watching Kimmie reminded Riley how much he’d missed out on when he’d lost everything.
“So fold it up already,” Abby said, tearing him from the painful thoughts of the past.
He sighed and squatted down, pressing one knee into the grass beside her. “Technically it’s called compressing.”
He started with the small end and rolled until it was a neat size that fit back in its carrying bag. “See?”
He looked into Abby’s sparkling brown eyes and could see clearly for the first time in a long time. He could see how her father’s indifference had hurt Kimmie. Maybe it was better for the boy he’d thought of as his own to have his biological father and not have to wonder where he was and why he didn’t care.
Riley didn’t need to see Abby’s sweet, floral scent. The perfume distracted him from his emotional thoughts as it swirled in the air around him and made his skin tingle. Her dimples deepened when she smiled at him as if he’d done the most remarkable thing. Her full lips tempted him to taste what he’d been denied the other night when he’d dropped her off.
Until this moment, he hadn’t realized how much of his day had been spent in a heightened state of anticipation. Not only that, he knew without a doubt if it hadn’t been the camping equipment, he’d have found another excuse to stop by. And he was glad she hadn’t come up with an excuse to avoid him.
The child he’d lost was in the past. Abby was now, and she was dangerous. Along with her pint-size secret weapon named Kimmie. Because he didn’t want to care that much again. He didn’t want anyone to become his whole world. When the campout was complete, he’d have no reason to see them again. The thought produced a hollow feeling inside him, proving now was the point of no return. He needed to shore up his defenses and protect his emotional perimeter before it was overrun by the dynamic duo.
“Compressing is impressive,” Abby said. “You made it look easy. Why couldn’t I do that?”
“I’ve had more practice. It’s all in the wrist.” He shrugged. “My hands are bigger, stronger.”
“I’m getting stronger,” Kimmie said. “Mommy and me walked around the track eight times and I didn’t even get tired.”
“Good for you,” he said, watching her beam with pride at the praise.
“You know what would help you get even stronger?” Abby said. “A good night’s sleep.”
“Do I hafta?”
“It’s time for your bath.”
“But, Mo-om, Riley just got here.”
He held up his hand. “A soldier never questions a direct order.”
The little girl heaved a huge sigh, but didn’t protest further. Although her body language spoke volumes. She turned and dragged her feet into the house.
“I’ll be up in a minute,” Abby called after her. She looked at him. “Again I’m impressed. What are you doing tomorrow night at bedtime?” Her eyes widened when the words sank in. “I mean Kimmie’s bedtime—To get her to cooperate— Because sometimes there’s rebellion in the ranks.”
“I know.” She hadn’t meant anything personal, but parts of him wished very much that she had. She’d made it painfully clear the other night that she wanted nothing like that from him. So, he figured he’d gotten all the mileage possible out of his pitiful excuse for stopping by. Now it was time to evac.
“I’ll help you bring all this stuff back inside before I go,” he said to smooth over the awkward moment.
He took the tent apart and stowed it, then grabbed the sleeping bags. After neatly restacking the equipment in the living room, he ran his fingers through his hair. “I guess I’ll go now.”
She nodded. “I have to get Kimmie settled.”
“Yeah.” He glanced around the room. “So you guys did eight laps at the park?”
“Yes,” she said proudly. “We walk every night after dinner.”
“Good. Hiking is a little different, but you’re building endurance and that will make it easier.” He was stalling. It wasn’t his finest hour.
She opened the door, but when he looked down at her, he noticed the pulse at the base of her neck was fluttering wildly. There was a lot of that going around. It was contagious and he’d definitely caught it from her.
“Okay, then. Pretty soon you two will be ready for take two on survival weekend,” he said.
“Good.” She looked up at him and it was all he could do not to pull her into his arms right then. “Thanks for everything, Riley.”
“No problem.”
He stepped out onto the porch and moved down the walkway. When he rounded his SUV, he looked back and saw her leaning a hip against the door. She looked all barefoot and sexy in those shorts that showed off her feminine curves just the way he liked them. The last time he’d been here, she’d hopped out and run inside as if the hounds of hell were after her. And he knew why. To avoid the awkward do-we-kiss-or-not moment at the front door. Ever since, he’d wondered what she would taste like and how she would feel with those curves pressed against him. The wondering had made for some long, painful and sleepless nights. Speaking of take two—he was back and no time like the present to take advantage of second chances. Then he could put the thoughts out of his mind.
So he jogged back up the walkway and stopped in front of her.
“Did you forget something?” she asked, surprised.
“Yeah.” He put his hands on her waist and pulled her to him. “This.”
He lowered his head and touched his lips to hers, tasting surprise followed by hesitation, then surrender. Her hands slid up his chest, around his neck, and he tightened his arms until daylight couldn’t find a space between their bodies. She felt better than he’d imagined, her lips softer than he’d thought possible. Her rounded breasts burned against his chest, made his heart pound and put a hitch in his breathing.
Then he tangled his fingers into her hair, cupping the back of her head to make the contact of their mouths firmer. She moaned and brushed her palm over his neck, raising sparks that threatened to make him go up in flames.
“Mommy? I can’t turn on the water.”
The child’s voice drifted down the stairs and pulled them apart. He knew an instant of satisfaction when he noticed that Abby’s breathing was as ragged as his own. Not only that, her hand shook as she brushed the hair off her forehead.
She looked up at him, her lips parted and moist from his own. “I—I have to—” She waved her hand in the general direction of the stairs.
“Yeah. You have to—” He drew in a deep breath, struggling to fill his lungs with air.
“Bye, Riley.” She shut the door.
Damn. If only she’d done that two minutes ago—before he’d seen her waiting and changed his mind about leaving.
Now he knew what kissing her was like. Instead of putting an end to the wanting, all he could think about was doing it again—and again. It had been a big mistake, and he wished his resistance techniques had been stronger. Or that he could rewind and take it back.
Then he wouldn’t have known this special kind of heaven mixed with a generous helping of hell.
Chapter Seven
“Hi, Abby.”
Abby looked up from the computer at her desk in the school library to see Nora Dixon standing at the counter. It had been a couple of weeks since Dixon Security had started work at the school and this was the first time she’d seen Riley’s sister here.
“Hi.” She smiled, genuinely pleased. “It’s nice to see you. What brings you here? I’m assuming it’s not because you didn’t have enough of high school the first time around.”
Nora laughed. “No. One time through was plenty. Have you seen Riley?”
That was a loaded question. Abby hadn’t actually seen him today, although she knew he’d been around campus working because she had the all-over tingles to prove it. Her Riley radar was on high frequency. So she hadn’t laid eyes on him, but his image popped into her head constantly, followed by memories of that kiss. He was a good kisser, even better than she’d suspected—a fact that had disrupted her peace of mind more than once in the past week.
She stood and cleared her throat, composing herself as she walked closer to the counter. “I haven’t seen him. Why don’t you try his cell phone?”
“Yeah.” The redhead set her purse on the counter separating the work area from the expanse of tables and rows of bookshelves. “I’ll do that. How are you?”
“Fine. And you?”
“Riley said you went to the Chamber of Commerce dinner with him,” his sister continued, ignoring the question. “Was it pretty boring?”
“What did he say?” Abby hedged, on her guard because the other woman seemed tense.
Nora shrugged. “He doesn’t volunteer much information.”
That was certainly true, Abby noted. She’d been on the receiving end of his noncommunication skills. What was the harm in telling his sister the truth?
“The speeches could have put an insomniac on caffeine to sleep,” she said, pleased when Nora laughed and relaxed a little.
But Abby remembered that sitting beside Riley had been like a shot of adrenaline to her susceptible system and sleeping had been the last thing on her mind that night. The masculine scent of him, the heat of his body invading her own, the way he filled out his suit. That hadn’t been the least bit boring.
“Why do you want to know?” Abby asked.
“He seems different.”
“From what?”
“From the way he was.” Nora’s green eyes narrowed. “He seems happy lately.”
“Well that explains it.”
“What?”
“Why you look like you’d enjoy seeing me drawn and quartered in the town square at sunrise.”
“Sorry.” Nora had the grace to look sheepish. “It’s just that it’s nice to see Riley in a good mood. And I can’t help thinking his recent state of mind has something to do with you.”
In spite of herself, a glow started in the pit of Abby’s stomach and the warmth spread through her. Riley was happy because of her? Why would that upset Nora?
“Well, I’m not sure how to respond to that. He’s training Kimmie and I for the survival weekend I bought at the auction. But I’m sure you already know that. When he’s finished, my daughter will get her scouting badge.”
“And what badge are you after?”
Abby blinked. “Excuse me?”
“It wouldn’t be the one that says Mrs. Riley Dixon, would it?”
Abby planted a fist on one hip as anger coursed through her. “I’m not sure that’s any of your business.”
“So I’m right.”
“No, you’re dead wrong. But it still doesn’t concern you.”
“That’s where you’re dead wrong. What other reason could you have for going to the Chamber of Commerce dinner with him?”
“Maybe because he asked me?” What was it with everyone in this town. First Louise Gibson. Now Nora.
“Well there’s no maybe about this. He’s my brother and I care about him.”
Abby could respect that, but what did that have to do with her? Then she suddenly got it. “You didn’t come here to see him at all, did you?”
“I came to warn you,” Nora said.
“About what?”
“He’s not as tough as he looks.”
Abby shivered as an image of his muscular legs, wide chest and impressive biceps flashed through her mind. Wimps didn’t make the cut to Army Ranger. Physically he was tough as nails. But she knew Nora meant relationship-tough. And that piqued her curiosity.
“There’s nothing personal going on between Riley and me.” Not entirely the truth, she thought, remembering the kiss. By definition, a pressing together of lips was personal. And when the person attached to those lips was Riley, it had felt pretty darn personal, too.
“You’re a single mother, and single mothers tend to want the white picket fence and a father who goes to work to pay for it. If your feelings for my brother aren’t sincere, back off. He was hurt before and I don’t want to see it happen again.”
Abby blinked. “What are you talking about?”
Just then, the brother in question came into the library, whistling a happy tune. He stopped short when he saw his sister. “Nora. What are you doing here?”
“I stopped by to see if I can buy you dinner,” she said. Riley set his clipboard beside Nora’s purse. “I’m tied up here. You should have called. I could have saved you a trip.”
“It was on my way home.” She shrugged. “Speaking of trips, when are you two going camping? Surely Abby and Kimmie have had enough training. It didn’t take this long to train and mobilize the troops for D-Day.”
“Soon,” Riley said vaguely.
“That was certainly definite.” Her gaze slid from him to Abby. “Are you sure I can’t talk you into dinner? Maybe Abby could join us?”
“I’d love to,” Abby said. “But I have to pick up Kimmie from day care and we have a date to walk around the park track.”
“Riley?”
He shook his head. “Maybe another time, sis.”
“Okay, then. I’ll see you tomorrow at the office. Bye, Abby. Nice to see you again.”
When Nora had gone, Abby took a deep breath. She was stunned by the encounter. Nora had implied that Abby was somehow insincere where Riley was concerned. Women want a man with a job to pay for the white picket fence? Abby had paid for her own picket fence when Kimmie’s father had walked out because he hadn’t wanted them. She didn’t want another man and certainly wouldn’t resort to trickery to make a relationship happen.
But Nora had said Riley had been hurt by someone. The day Kimmie had skinned her knee and they’d talked about kids, she remembered his darkly intense reaction to the questions. At the time, she hadn’t known him well enough to judge if the topic was painful. But Nora had just told her he’d been hurt. By whom? No time like the present to find out.
She looked at him. “Who hurt you, Riley?”
“What are you talking about?” He met her gaze, and the barriers in his own were crystal clear.
“Nora didn’t stop by to take you to dinner. She wanted to warn me to stay away from you.”
“What?”
“She said you’ve been hurt before and you’re not as tough as you look. If my feelings aren’t sincere, I should back off.”
He shook his head and struggled for a casual air, but a muscle in his lean cheek jumped as he clenched his jaw. “Ignore her. That’s Nora sticking her nose in my business.”
“Now she’s made it my business,” Abby pointed out.
“I’ll talk to her—”
“No. Talk to me. What happened to you? Who hurt you so badly your sister feels the need to prevent it from happe
ning again?”
“It’s no big deal,” he said.
“Oh? That is not the impression I got from Nora. She said something about single mothers who want white picket fences and fathers to pay for them. She lumped me in there. Since I’m taking the heat for your emotional baggage, I think it’s a very big deal. The least you can do is level with me.”
He looked at her for a long time, so long it seemed as if he wouldn’t answer. Then he released a long breath. “I told you I was married before.”
“And you’re not now, which means you’re divorced.”
He nodded. “Barb was pregnant when we met. She was a civilian working on the base where I was stationed. The baby’s father had walked away from his responsibility and I felt sorry for her. We got to be friends.”
“And friendship turned to love?”
“She needed medical benefits and a name for her child. And I cared a lot about her.”
“I see.”
“Things were good after my son—after Sean was born.” His face softened for a moment, then the tender expression vanished. “For the next two years, life was good. I had a family. I can’t remember a time I was happier. And I thought Barb was, too.”
She remembered the way he’d looked when she’d asked him about his past. She recognized the same expression now—the deep lines beside his nose and mouth, the shadows in his blue eyes, the straight line of his mouth. He was remembering sadness and loss.
“What happened?” she asked.
“I couldn’t have loved that boy more if he’d been my own child. Finally I understood that my adoptive parents could sincerely care about me even though I wasn’t their own flesh and blood.” It was as if now that the dam had been opened, everything was spilling out of this normally reserved man.
“What happened?” she asked again.
“The boy’s biological father came back. He wanted his son, and Barb decided it was important for the boy to know his real father. I found out that love is no match for the right DNA.”
Abby put her hand on his arm, not sure if he needed the comfort so much as she needed to give it. “I’m so sorry, Riley.”
He shrugged as if that was that, but didn’t pull away from her touch. “Don’t be. It’s ancient history.”
That Touch of Pink Page 9
