The Tempting Mrs. Reilly

by Maureen Child

  She’d thought she could come into town, sleep with Brian and make a baby, then slip right back into her world. But the truth was, she would never really be free of Brian. It was the plain and simple truth.

  No wonder none of the men she’d dated over the years had been able to touch her heart. Her heart had always been here, in Baywater with her ex-husband. She couldn’t fall in love with anyone else when she still loved Brian Reilly.

  As if he, too, felt the sense of misery creeping into her heart, he said, with regret rather than temper, “Don’t you get it, Tina? I don’t want to be a part-time father.”

  “You don’t have to be, Brian,” she said and wondered if he knew what it cost her to say this. “I’m not asking you to be an active parent. You can be as involved or as distant as you choose to be.”

  “Oh,” he said quietly, “now I get a vote?”

  “Yes,” she said, just as quietly, “when I told you not to worry, I meant it. If you want to, you can never speak to me again.”

  “Just like that.”

  Okay, she was willing to admit that maybe, maybe, what she’d done had been a mistake. Unfair to him. But she wasn’t going to stand here and let him pretend that he’d rather things were different between them. “Yes, Brian. Just like that. It’s been five years, remember? And we’ve talked maybe three times in all that time.”

  “This is different,” he snarled. “What’s between you and I is one thing. What’s between me and a child I created, is something else altogether. You think I could let my child not be a part of my life?”

  “That’ll be up to you.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  Despite the already growing heat, Tina felt a chill snake along her spine and she wished fervently that they’d never had this conversation. She should have waited to see if there was a baby before confronting him with the possibilities.

  “There’s no point in talking about this anymore,” she said suddenly, turning as she spoke to head for the door. “I’m going back to the house.”

  “What about locking yourself out?” he said, sarcasm dripping from every word.

  She stopped, one hand on the doorknob, and shot him a look over her shoulder. “I lied.”

  “Big surprise.”

  Her shoulders hunched as his words slapped at her. “I’m sorry you’re mad, Brian,” she said, never taking her gaze from his, despite inwardly flinching from the fury she saw written in his eyes. “But I’m not sorry about last night. And I’m not sorry that we might have made a baby.” She opened the door and paused again. “I am sorry that you are, though.”

  Then she stepped through the door and closed it softly behind her.

  Brian stood alone in the growing patch of sunlit warmth and had never felt so bone-deep cold in his life.

  Nine

  Later that morning, Brian really lived up to his call sign, Cowboy. Every pilot had his own nickname used during flights. Some of his best friends were known as Bozo, or Too Cool, or Goliath. Brian though, had come by his call sign because of his aggressive approach to flying.

  Nothing he liked better than doing loops and spins miles above the ground. Ordinarily, too, he emptied his mind of everything but the task at hand—much safer to be thinking only about flying when you went faster than the speed of sound.

  But today, Tina was flying with him.

  She was there beside him in the close confines of the cockpit. She was in his blood, in his brain, and to get her out again, was going to be far tougher than anything he’d ever faced before.

  “She tricked me,” he muttered, still unable to grasp the fact that his ex-wife had deliberately set him up to father her child.

  “What?” The voice came from the seat behind him. His radar officer, Sam “Hollywood” Holden.

  “Nothin’.”

  “Okay, Cap’n,” Hollywood said, “that’s the way you want it. So if you’re finished trying to make me upchuck my breakfast, why don’t we turn this puppy around and head home?”

  Brian grinned. “What’s wrong, Hollywood? Late night last night?”

  “Hey,” his friend pointed out with a chuckle. “Not all of us signed up for that stupid bet.”

  Groaning, Brian shook his head and stared into the clouds whizzing past the plane. Impossible to keep a secret on a military base. At least this kind of secret. Spies, battle plans, sure. You were safe. A humiliating, personal problem—fair game.

  He never should have agreed to the bet. If he had told Liam to get lost, he never would have been in such a vulnerable condition when Tina hit town. And he never would have spent a long, endless night exploring her body.

  Hard to regret that, even considering the way it had ended.

  However, he’d be damned if he’d just sit back and let the guys get a good laugh at his expense.

  “Just for that,” Brian said with an evil chuckle, already maneuvering his jet into an upside-down position, “I think we’ll just fly home inverted.”

  “Oh, man….”

  “I really made a mess of this, didn’t I?” Tina looked down at Muffin and Peaches, sprawled across her bed. “Not that I’m really regretting it. I mean, that is why I came here, right?”

  Peaches yawned and rolled over.

  Tina paced, marking off the same steps in her old room that she had as a teenager when she was angsting over the serious problems that had faced her back then. Things like, would she ever get her hair straightened? Would she ever get a date? Would she ever get out of AP Chem?

  Well, times had changed and the problems had gotten bigger. But her solutions were still the same. Pace and talk to herself.

  “It’s not like I forced him, you know,” she said aloud, shooting a look at Muffin, since Peaches, the little traitor, was snoring. “He was more than willing.”

  Muffin yapped.

  “So why do I feel so blasted guilty?” she demanded and knew the answer, though she didn’t really want to look at it too closely. Using Brian had been wrong. “Fine. I’m a rotten human being. Stand me up against a wall and shoot me.” She stopped at the foot of the bed and plopped down onto the edge of the mattress. “I just wanted—“

  What? A baby? Sure. But that wasn’t all, was it? No. She’d wanted Brian back. She hadn’t been able to admit it even to herself before she’d arrived back in Baywater. But it was impossible to deny now.

  It wasn’t just his child she wanted.

  It was his heart.

  And that was the one thing she couldn’t have.

  Pushing herself to her feet, Tina stalked around the edge of the bed, grabbed the phone and punched in a familiar number. It rang twice.

  “Hello?”

  “Janet.” Tina sighed, reached down to scoot a limp Peaches over and then sat down. “Thank God.”

  “Tina! How’s it going girl?”

  “Not so good.”

  “Oh.” Janet was silent for a long minute. “So you couldn’t get him to—“

  “No,” Tina said, toying with the pale blue, coiled cord of the ancient Princess phone. “Mission accomplished.”

  A long pause. “Really? You mean you really went to bed with your ex?”

  “No,” Tina said, scooting back farther on the bed. “I asked him for a donation, then I took it to the clinic and had them douse me with a turkey baster.”

  Janet laughed. “Well, for someone who just had sex, you seem a little cranky.”

  Frowning, Tina said, “I’m sorry. I’m just mad at myself and you’re easier to yell at.”

  “Happy to help.”

  “Janet, it didn’t go like I thought it would.”

  “It wasn’t as great as you remembered?”

  “It was better.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “I told him.” Tina closed her eyes and saw Brian’s face again. The betrayal in his eyes and the fury stamped on his features. She couldn’t really blame him. He’d divorced her, after all. And if he hadn’t wanted her as his wife, why would he want her a
s the mother of his child? A child, by the way, he hadn’t realized he’d been conceiving. Maybe.

  “Ahh…” Janet’s sigh was long and eloquent. “You knew going in he wouldn’t be happy about it.”

  “I know,” she said and shook her head even as she dropped one hand to Peaches’s back and stroked the little dog gently. “But I didn’t know I’d—“

  “—still love him?” Janet finished for her.

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Tina, honey, this way lies pain.”

  “You’re right, but—” Tina’s brain went back to the night before. The passion, the desire, the hunger that had risen up and engulfed them both. It had been stronger somehow, bigger than what she and Brian had shared five years before. Was it because they’d been apart so long?

  Or was it because they were meant to be together?

  “So what are you going to do about it?”

  Tina scowled. “What can I do?”

  “Honestly, Tina,” Janet said, clucking her tongue loud enough that it sounded as though she were right beside Tina instead of at home, more than three thousand miles from South Carolina. “You love him and you’re just going to walk away again?”

  Tina stiffened slightly. “I didn’t walk the last time, remember? Brian did.”

  “And you let him decide for both of you what was going to happen.”

  “Yes, but—“

  Janet didn’t let her finish. “How about this time, the two of you actually talk about what happened?”

  Good idea, in theory, Tina thought grimly. But as she remembered the look on Brian’s face when she’d left his apartment only that morning, she had a feeling that he would be a little less than receptive.

  “And say what?”

  “I don’t know,” Janet said, sarcasm dripping from every word, “how about, I love you?”

  Those three words echoed over and over again in Tina’s mind as she stared blankly out the window. Outside, sunset pulsed in the sky, gilding the cloud-streaked horizon in brilliant shades of crimson and lavender.

  “I said that five years ago,” Tina whispered, remembering the pain. “It didn’t help.”

  “Couldn’t hurt, either.”

  “Maybe,” she said, then changed the subject abruptly. There were no easy answers here. Nothing had really changed between her and Brian. And though she loved him and probably always would, she wasn’t going to tell Brian. What would be the point? Another chance at humiliation when he told her again that he didn’t want to be married to her? No, she thought. Passion was one thing—love was another. And all during the long night with Brian, he’d never once mentioned love.

  While Janet talked about her pregnancy and the plans she had for her baby, Tina kept one hand firmly atop her flat abdomen. Silently, she prayed that inside, a child was already beginning to grow.

  And if she was lucky, a small part of Brian would always be a part of her life—and no one would be able to take that away from her.

  “I’m out.”

  Connor, Aidan and Liam stared at Brian for a long minute. He shifted under that steady regard, then bounced the basketball a few times before turning, jumping and shooting for the basket. The ball ricocheted off the backboard and crashed through the pretty stretch of flowers lining the rectory’s driveway.

  “Perfect,” he muttered. Couldn’t even make a basket. When he snatched up the ball again, he turned to see his brothers still watching him, wide grins on their faces.

  “You didn’t even last a month,” Connor pointed out.

  “Pitiful,” Aidan said and came toward him, grabbing the basketball and shooting, making a perfect swish through the net.

  “What happened?” Liam asked.

  Brian wiped sweat out of his eyes with his forearm, then squinted at his brother the priest. The backyard lights spilled onto the wide driveway, lighting up the makeshift basketball court where he and his brothers fought vicious games of two-on-two ball a couple of nights a week.

  Brian snapped his fingers a couple of times. “Keep up, Liam. I said I’m out of the contest. Measure me now for the hula skirt and coconut bra.”

  “I love this,” Aidan said, taking another shot. “I can already feel that money bulging in my wallet.”

  “Yeah?” Connor countered, making a jump for the ball as it rebounded, “don’t start spending it yet, pal.”

  The two of them argued and fought for the ball as Liam strolled across the driveway toward Brian.

  Scowling, Brian watched his brothers shooting hoops and listened to the metallic twang as the ball slapped against the rim with every shot. A full moon shone down from a clear night sky and the scent of jasmine floated on the thick, summer air.

  “You don’t look so good,” Liam said.

  “Told you,” Brian snapped, giving his older brother a quick, heated glance, “I lost the bet.”

  “This isn’t about the bet.”

  “Yeah? Then tell me, Father, what’s it about?”

  Liam smiled and shook his head as if he were watching a particularly stubborn five-year-old. “It’s about Tina. And you.”

  Thoughts, questions, doubts, nibbled at the edges of his mind, as they had all day. He’d gotten through work, but he’d avoided going home. He wasn’t ready yet to face Tina. To look at her and remember the night before. To remember that she’d tricked him. That even now, his child might be nestled inside her body.

  Brian’s stomach twisted and a knot lodged in his throat. Wasn’t sure what that meant, but he had an idea and he didn’t want to acknowledge it. Even to himself.

  “There is no me and Tina,” he said softly.

  “Maybe there should be,” Liam told him, and turning, steered Brian farther down the driveway, away from Connor and Aidan’s shouting. “Maybe you’ve been given a second chance, Brian.”

  “A chance to make a jackass of myself in a hula skirt?”

  Liam shook his head. “This isn’t about the bet, Brian. You’re not paying attention.” He stopped at the end of the driveway and took a long moment, to look up and down the street. From a distance, came the sounds of kids playing, a car engine firing up and a stereo system blasting out some classic rock and roll.

  Smiling, Liam lifted one arm and pointed at the houses crouched behind ancient trees. “What do you see?”

  Brian snorted. “Maple Street.”

  “And…?”

  Blowing out a breath, Brian turned and looked. “Houses. Trees. Dogs.”

  “Families,” Liam said. “Homes.”

  Brian scraped one hand across his jaw and narrowed his gaze. “What’s your point, Liam?”

  “How many of those families are military, do you think?”

  “What difference does that make?”

  “All the difference to some, none at all to others,” Liam said.

  “Are you a priest or Confucius? For God’s sake, make your point.”

  “You’re an idiot, Brian.” Liam shoved his younger brother and watched him stagger before regaining his balance.

  Brian instantly lifted both hands, curled into fists. “Hey, you wanna go a round or two, fine by me.”

  The streetlight nearby spotlighted them in a circle of white and cast deep shadows on Liam’s face. But despite the shadows, Brian saw a look of utter disgust on his brother’s features.

  “I don’t want to fight you,” Liam snapped. “I’m trying to tell you that instead of being here, with us—” he waved one hand at the driveway behind him, indicating Aidan and Connor, still throwing hoops. “You should be back at Angelina’s house, talking to Tina.”

  The urge to fight dissolved and Brian shifted his gaze to the street and the houses beyond. “We’re done talking.”

  “Just like five years ago then, huh? Your way or nothing?”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Brian warned.

  “I know you, Brian.” Liam shook his head, clearly disgusted. “I know Tina was the best thing that ever happened to you. And I know you lov
ed her and you were happy until you decided to chuck it all.”

  “My business.”

  “Undoubtedly. All I’m saying is that maybe fate just handed you a second chance and you’d be an idiot to turn your back on it.”

  “I didn’t ask for a second chance.”

  “That’s what makes you lucky, you moron.”

  Brian snorted. “Nice priestly manner.”

  “You want a priest?” Liam asked, already turning to head back to the game, “show up at Mass once in awhile. Here, all you’ll get is a brother.”

  Brian stared after him for several long minutes. Absently, he listened to the sounds of his brothers laughing and talking trash. Then he turned his gaze on Maple Street. And for the first time, he really thought about something Liam had said.

  Probably half of those tidy little houses with neat lawns and carefully tended flower beds were lived in by military families. Husband or wife—and sometimes both—lived their lives according to the Corps, going where they were told, when they were told, never sure if they were going to be coming back.

  And yet…Brian listened to the sound of a dog’s excited bark and a kid’s delighted laughter, drifting to him on the summer breeze. Somehow, most of those families made it work for them.

  Five years ago, he’d decided that he couldn’t put Tina through the misery of a life dictated by military needs. He’d told himself at the time that it wasn’t fair to her. Wasn’t fair to expect her to pick up, pack up and move across the country, sometimes around the world, whenever his orders changed. It was too much to ask her to live alone for months at a time when he was deployed. He’d thought it wasn’t right to keep her in a marriage where her husband had a damn good chance of never coming home at all.

  And he’d let her go.

  For her sake.

  It had cost him everything to cut Tina out of his life. And he’d felt the hollow emptiness ever since.

  Now that Tina was back, he felt that emptiness even more sharply. It was a razor, slicing his soul, tearing at his heart. She’d wanted a baby.

  His baby.

  And he wondered if he’d made a big mistake five years ago.