by Dee Tenorio
Epilogue
Taylor looked down at the baby in her arms, watching it watch her. She moved her head left and the baby’s intense blue gaze followed, his head movement matching hers with eerie perfection. Turning her head right…same thing.
She glanced up at Krista. “You sure this one ain’t broken? I haven’t heard him cry once yet.” Or spit anything up, muss his black wavy hair or complain in the tiniest way. If he weren’t pudgy, warm or covered in that baby scent of powder and milk, she’d think the kid was a cyborg. All the kids she’d known while growing up—and dear God, there had been a lot of them—were squirmers, desperate to chew on something or someone. They’d at least have smacked her cheeks, trying to get a hold of her face. But not this one. Calm, curious and cute. Scary.
Krista smiled at the six-month-old in Taylor’s hold, indulgent as possible. “He’s just fine. I keep telling you, he likes you.”
Taylor wasn’t so sure. “If that’s the case, kid, you got problems.”
“Or good taste,” a deep voice rumbled behind her.
Frankie. She had to work hard to keep the sigh quiet, having given up a long time ago when it came to not sighing over him.
She felt a squeeze at her hip just before he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “You look good like that, Tay.”
Taylor scowled at him. “Don’t get any ideas.”
Krista did pretty much nothing to stifle her snort of laughter. Even giving her a dirty look didn’t make Taylor feel better, because in the five years since they’d all become friends instead of just assistant and boss, Krista had learned good and well that whatever Frankie asked of her, he was going to get.
Hey, Tay, let’s move in together.
Hey, Tay, what do you think about getting married?
So, Tay, why don’t we buy a house?
Well, not this. Frankie Delles was not about to knock her up and turn her into mother of the year. Not in this lifetime.
“I give you about three months,” Krista said knowingly, popping a breath mint into her mouth and tucking it into her cheek. “Tops.”
“Oh, screw you,” Taylor replied, unfortunately without heat. She had the sneaking suspicion Krista’s estimate was overly generous. Rather than think about that, she bounced the latest addition to the Ellison family in her arms while they waited by the pews for the baptism service to begin. Krista sat down when her firstborn, Steven, tugged on her hand.
Taylor didn’t like to admit it, but she had a big, squishy soft spot for that kid. She wasn’t the only one, she knew, but still, it was not the kind of thing she liked people to know about. She was his godmother, too. All of four years old, the boy was tall like his parents, smart like his father and pretty like his mom. All rosy in the cheeks and doll faced.
No one really had a clue that the kid was a born card shark, which was just the way Taylor wanted to keep it. In another year or so, she fully planned to graduate him from Go Fish to poker. To quote his father, it was never too soon to start a college fund.
But this little stinker, she thought, looking down at the cherubic face studying her so intently. Who knew what this little guy was going to have in store for them?
“You and David still planning more?” Frankie asked over Taylor’s shoulder. Frankie-code for “See, other people like kids”.
“Oh definitely. We’re hoping for a houseful.” Krista’s attention shifted when they heard the excited twittering of Cobb entering the church. Krista smiled and stood up to go greet both Cobb and Jake, who had finally put everyone out of their misery last year and started dating. Krista was giving enthusiastic hugs and David was giving handshakes. Just like with little Steven, Jake was going to co-godparent. Frankie and Cobb had dibs on any girls the Ellisons eventually had. Which meant the pastor was going to have that much longer to figure out how to fudge listing two godfathers.
“You’re not cute, you ass,” Taylor growled at Frankie, resolved not to be affected by her husband’s oh-so-innocently deepening dimples.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Riiiiight. I told you, I’m not having kids.”
“You say a lot of things you don’t mean, hon.”
She scoffed, mostly because that was true, damn him. “Isn’t that what you always say you love about me? That I say what I mean and I mean what I say?”
“Sure is.” Frankie blinked his giraffe-style lashes three times fast. “Unless you’re lying.”
The growl in her throat could never be mistaken for a loving sound. “If I didn’t have this kid right now, I would so be putting my foot in your ass.”
He stole a quick kiss. “Save the foreplay for later, babe. This is a church, you know.”
“You’re a jerk.”
“A jerk who can count,” he qualified, making her eyes widen. Dammit! “Don’t be scared, Tay. I promise. I change diapers.”
She should have known he’d notice. He always saw the things she didn’t want him to see. Knew her too well. “The same way you pick up your towels from the bathroom floor?”
“Um…I cook.”
She leveled him a look. Neither one of them could cook. If they had this kid, the poor thing was going to starve.
“Hey, I do serious drive-thru,” he corrected, attempting to look hurt. When she didn’t lighten up, he shrugged. “Don’t they just drink milk for like a year?”
“Oh, you plan to lactate now?” She might have the kid, just to see him try.
“Look at them,” Frankie said, avoiding the answer to that one about as smoothly as a faceplant. But she still followed his pointing finger at the Ellisons. David wasn’t as reserved as he used to be, but he was never going to be a charmer. Krista still ran her party-planning business, though she had agents working for her now, freeing her up to be there for her family. They stood side by side, each one holding the hand of their son between them. Five years ago, she’d been so sure they were doomed. Now, they were her friends, people she knew would be together and happy for the rest of their lives.
“I’m not saying it wouldn’t be a lot of work, but if those two can be happy, if they can have it all, why can’t we?”
Taylor scrunched her lips to one side. “I’m only a little late. I might not even be pregnant.”
“So?” Frankie grinned. “If you’re not, that’s fine. But if you are, hey…when have I ever let you down?”
Never. And he was the only one in her whole life who had that distinction. Well, almost. The Ellisons hadn’t either. They’d encouraged her through completing school, offering help where they could until she got her own CPA certification. And when David insisted she join his firm, she’d had to admit that maybe, just maybe, she had some excellent friends.
“Fine, I’ll consider parenthood.” She narrowed her gaze at him. “But you’re going to be the vomit patrol.”
“Is that burping up or spewing chunks?”
“Honey, if it comes out of any end, in any form, consider it your job.”
Frankie laughed, tugging her toward the group still standing at the doors. “Sounds good to me.”
So, even though he was such a sicko, such a happy little freak, Taylor walked with him to the family they’d all created together. And hell if it didn’t sound good to her too.
About the Author
Dee Tenorio is a sick woman. Really sick. She enjoys tormenting herself by writing romantic comedies (preferably with sexy, grumpy heroes and smart-mouthed heroines) and sizzling, steamy romances of various genres spanning dramas with the occasional drop of suspense all the way to erotic romance. But why does that make her sick?
Because she truly seems to enjoy it.
And she has every intention of keeping at it!
If you would like to learn more about Dee and her work, please visit her website at www.deetenorio.com or her blog at www.deetenorio.com/Blog/.
Look for these titles by Dee Tenorio
Now Available:
Love Me Tomorrow
Kiss Me Again<
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Test Me!
Midnight Legacy
Midnight Temptation
Midnight Sonata
Betting Hearts
Coming Soon:
Burn for Me
As their passion catches fire, so does a killer’s vengeance…
Love Me Tomorrow
© 2009 Dee Tenorio
A Rancho del Cielo Romance
In the sleepy town of Rancho del Cielo, a killer arsonist is targeting firefighter Josh Whittaker’s friends, family and most importantly…the love of his life.
As fires encircle Josh’s life, his troubles mount. His best friend is dead. The woman he’d give his life to protect is pregnant. Secrets he’s held on to for years are spilling free. If he could just find his equilibrium, he could pull himself together. What he doesn’t know is that someone is dead-set on tearing everything he knows apart.
Losing a lifelong friend has finally awakened Miranda McTiernan to how much of her life has been spent in limbo. Now that she’s pregnant, a dream she never believed could happen, the reality isn’t quite what she’d expected. Instead of being happy and secure, she’s scared and hiding a secret that could ruin the future she’s worked so hard to create.
Assuming she has a future…
Warning: Includes a heroine out to get her man, a hero determined to do the wrong thing for the right reasons, and hormones gone wild. Reading with cookies recommended.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Love Me Tomorrow:
She dripped water, her eyelashes carrying droplets and her mouth curved into a smile trained directly on him. Josh had a hard time pulling in a deep enough breath. Until some part of his brain not rendered stupid noticed something out of sync. It wasn’t her usual smile, the one that brightened her whole face and whole parts of his life. No, this one was confident. Pleased. Self-satisfied. Son of a bitch.
“Hey, Josh. I needed a swim, hope you don’t mind.”
Hairs on the back of his neck rose and tingled at the husky tone of her voice. Careful. Don’t let her know you’re on to her—whatever it was she was doing. Thankfully for his blood-deprived mind, it wasn’t hard to guess what that might be. “Nope. My casa is your casa, right?”
Miranda’s smile widened and she sauntered out to the lawn chair beneath the large patio umbrella. She lay below its shade, hiding from the direct beams of the sun, even though it was sinking behind the hills. She had to. Everyone in town knew she burned like a witch in Salem under direct sunlight. Anyone with a brain would know cream-colored skin like hers didn’t need sun anyway.
But he wasn’t supposed to have a brain right now.
So he watched her brush off all the excess water. Her fingers almost seemed to be caressing her own skin, over her forearms up to her shoulders, down her curved neck. He almost forgot how important breathing was when she ran her fingers over the slope of her half-exposed breast.
“Can you bring me a beer?”
She hated beer and he knew it, but that didn’t register right away.
By the time it did, he’d already turned back into the kitchen and grabbed two from the fridge. He almost said something right then, but she turned to him with a diabetes-inducing smile. The little brat thought she had him exactly where she wanted, didn’t she?
“Josh?” She pulled a small bottle of lotion from her tiny terrycloth robe and started applying it to her arms and chest.
He watched, unable to decide which of them to be more disgusted with. Her for thinking he’d fall for this stupid plan to seduce him or himself for being dumb enough to almost prove her right. At her humming, he shook his head and sighed. She was moving so damn slow, the sun would be down before she ever got it applied everywhere it needed to be. “I haven’t seen that suit yet. Is it new?” he asked, handing her the beer, purposely keeping the entranced puppy look on his face. When her fingertips slid between her breasts, it took considerably less effort to do.
“Yup. It showed the most skin. It’s not very me, but I need an allover tan.”
He frowned, accidentally losing his stunned-stupid gaze. “What for?”
“Because men like tans. You turned me down. Now I have to attract someone else to be a father. I figure it’ll help.”
He screwed his brows together in consternation. “I thought you wanted the best family you knew for your baby.” Hadn’t she mentioned something about that when she was prattling about sperm donors? His eyes followed her oiled hands across her skin without his permission. How much lotion did two breasts really need?
Finally, she had mercy and moved on. The problem was that she reached around her ribs one side at a time, her inner elbows pushing the outer sides of her breasts inward so that the shining flesh pressed together and lifted upward and his brain began to throb. She arched her back and ran one palm down her smooth belly in a way that had his throat closing up. God help him if those searching fingers were going where he thought they were.
Instead, just as she touched the edge of that skimpy bikini line, she lowered her hips and strangely, his lungs deflated as if he’d been holding his breath.
“I did, but your family isn’t available.” She actually stopped to blink over at him with a saccharine grin. “Truth is, I don’t have to be so picky. We live in RDC. I’ve known just about every man here all my life. I know everyone’s family. There’s plenty of men to pick from.”
His breath stopped moving for entirely new reasons. She’d better not be thinking what he thought she was thinking. “You don’t really believe you can just talk someone into fathering a child for you?”
She gave a spurt of disbelief. “Are you kidding? No one is going to volunteer for that. Not with you constantly browbeating anyone who looks at me.”
He almost let himself sigh, relieved.
“So I’ve decided to become promiscuous. If I’m easy enough, no one will think about you at all.” She had the audacity to wink.
Do not choke.
“You’ve gotta admit, it’s the one thing I haven’t tried. Even you can’t beat up every man in town.”
Do. Not. Choke. Her.
He scratched the side of his head so hard it was likely bleeding. “Aren’t you overestimating here? I mean, not that you couldn’t get their attention, but there aren’t many available men just wandering around RDC, waiting for a promiscuous woman to fall into their laps.”
She stared at him incredulously, but he continued calculating which men in their tiny little town she had to choose from. Thankfully for his escalating blood pressure, pickings were slim. He knew most men close to their ages were married or just damn ugly. Except for the guys at the—
“What about the guys at the firehouse? I’m sure a few of them wouldn’t mind a tumble. What about Andy Raymond? He likes me. He probably wouldn’t turn me down if we went out on a date.”
Of course Andy wouldn’t. The kid left a trail of drool behind her whenever she was in the station. Josh’s brain skidded to a halt as he tried to think of a good way to deter her.
“No.” It was all that came to mind.
She turned innocent eyes on him. Some feat, considering that Miranda was the least innocent person he knew.
“Why not?”
“Why not? Why not?” Shit. Back to square one. “The gossips,” he finally dragged out of his ass.
“You think your baby would be able to live down your reputation after something like that?” Heartened by her blank blink, he picked up steam. “You know what this place is like. People are going to find out no matter what you do.” Her mouth quirked to one side. “I can afford to move.”
Of course she could. Her illustrated children’s books had been doing well for more than a few years. She could afford whatever she damn well wanted. But the thought of her leaving left him even colder than the prospect of her traipsing around with any guy she could find. He searched for another tack.
“You can’t leave your house. You love that house.” It was falling down around her ears because she refused to up
date it to safety code, but she loved it.
“I don’t have to sell it. I’ll figure that part out later.”
She continued rubbing the coconut-smelling concoction over her legs, lifting them straight up, one at a time, all but purring at the touch of her own hands. Josh scrambled for something else to think about other than her apparent flexibility.
“Well, it can’t be Andy, he’s only twenty-two.”
“Young is good.” She smiled lasciviously, eyes closed while she sighed, dropping her forehead to press against her shin, wearing a slow grin he could only call sinful. “I like a guy with…energy.”
He couldn’t contain a convulsion.
“Besides, it’s not as if I’m limited to just Rancho del Cielo. We’re not exactly in quarantine here. There’s available men in San Diego. Even Orange County if I want. I could sleep with any number of them.”
“You can’t go around having unprotected sex with people until you get pregnant! It’s stupid and it’s dangerous!” Trump card. It was one thing to let Miranda get away with manipulating him. It was something else to let her get into that kind of trouble with other men. She’d behave now, he was sure.
Except she looked like he’d just stolen her bunny. She lowered her leg and any trace of a smile melted away. Suddenly, she seemed so uncertain and almost afraid, he wanted to scoop her into his arms and just hold her for a while.
Which would lead in all the wrong directions. He had to make sure she understood, and comforting her wasn’t the way to go about it.
“I guess you’re right,” she conceded. “It’s not the same world out there as it was when we were kids. It wouldn’t be safe.” She took a moment to consider her options. “I guess that brings me back to young Andy.”
“Will you stop calling him young?” Josh rubbed his bleary eyes, willing away the idea she’d conjured of her and Young Andy Raymond. Damn, now she had him doing it.
