“He’s such a dork.”
“Who?” Jack asked.
“Logan Peterson.”
“Isn’t he the one who was tormenting you the day you came home from camp by yourself?”
“That’s him,” Faith con firmed.
“So what’s he done now?”
Maggie would like to know the answer to that, too.
“He hides and when I walk by he pushes me. He calls me names. Pulls my hair, that kind of stuff. I wish you’d show me how to do some of those kung fu kicks and stuff,” Faith said.
“We talked about this, kiddo. I do it for exercise.”
“But he won’t leave me alone,” Faith complained.
“The little creep—”
Maggie heard the menace in Jack’s voice. He joked about knowing three hundred ways to kill with his bare hands, but surely he drew the line at children—no matter how big a dork Logan Peterson happened to be.
“Yeah, he’s a real turkey,” Faith agreed.
“I’ve got an idea,” Jack said. “How about if I take you to camp tomorrow. While I’m there, I can warn the little jerk to leave you alone.”
“Cool,” their child said enthusiastically.
Not cool, Maggie thought.
She stood and opened the slider. “Faith, it’s time for you to take your bath and get ready for bed.”
Jack looked at Maggie through the red haze of his anger. The last six weeks in Destiny had opened him up to assaults on his senses from every direction. He prided himself on his ability to remain cool and in control. Yet Maggie and Faith tapped into his dormant emotions, which led into the colors that continually bombarded him. He took a deep breath.
“Mo-om, it’s too early for bathtime,” she pro tested.
“No, it’s not. Remember, you owe me a half hour because you stayed up late last night to finish watching that video with your dad.”
Your dad.
The words still caught Jack up short. He was someone’s father. He had a little girl. And some little so-and-so was picking on her. It made him see red all over again.
“Dad, I’m nine. Tell her it’s too early for me to get ready for bed.”
He looked at the mutinous expression on the child’s face. “Your mom is the ranking officer. You did promise to hit the rack earlier tonight if you could stay up later last night.”
“I can’t believe you’re on her side,” Faith pro tested.
“I’m on your side, believe it or not. I think you’ve been given a direct order. Time to carry it out. On the double.”
He watched the girl dramatically drag herself to the house and shoot her mother a drop-dead look before she disappeared inside. Maggie called some directions to the child, then closed the sliding door and walked toward him. She was in shorts, crop top and bare feet—just about the most blatantly sexy look she could possibly have, short of wearing nothing at all.
He held his breath, alternately hoping she would sit beside him and praying she wouldn’t. She didn’t.
Standing in front of him, she rested her fists on her hips. “Jack, we need to talk.”
Words every man dreaded.
“Okay. What about?”
“I over heard what Faith told you about Logan Peterson,” she said.
Just the name twisted his gut into an angry knot. “The little creep needs a good talking to—”
“No.”
He blinked at her and stood. “Excuse me?”
“I said you can’t talk to him.”
“Why not?”
“Some times being a parent means doing nothing.”
“Not when some boy is pulling my daughter’s hair.”
Maggie sighed, a big gusty breath of air. “I know it’s hard. But you and I won’t always be here to run interference. She’s got to learn to handle things on her own.”
“Maggie, I’ll admit I’m new at this father thing.” He saw her face cloud. “That wasn’t a criticism, just a fact. I am new.” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “But I gotta tell you, I’d give my life for that child.”
“I know how you feel,” she said, then caught the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth. “But there are times when backing off is the best course of action. She needs to learn to handle whatever life throws at her. Training starts now. If you butt in, she won’t get a chance to flex those problem-solving muscles.”
“Intellectually I under stand what you’re telling me. But in my gut, I want to make her world perfect.”
“Believe me, I’d like to take the little jerk aside and give him a tongue-lashing he wouldn’t forget anytime soon. And there are times when you have to step in, as far as alerting the adults around her about what’s going on. But in the meantime, let’s see what happens. Maybe it will blow over.”
“Maybe.” But he didn’t really buy that. His gut was telling him to fix it.
“I suspect he’s trying to get her attention. Wouldn’t surprise me if he’s got a crush on Faith,” Maggie said, a slight smile turning up the corners of her full lips.
“Yeah, well he’s got a funny way of showing it.”
He looked down at Maggie, the gathering shadows stealing the color from her hair. She was small and delicate in spite of her spirit and fire. He found he wanted to gather her to him and keep her safe, too. She’d had a hard time of it, thanks to him. But he was here now. For better or worse.
At the same time he wanted to protect Maggie, he found her in credibly sexy and appealing. She was on his mind day and night. Every time he saw her, he had to fight the urge to put his hands on her and explore all the soft, sweet curves he remembered from a decade ago.
“Fathers protect their little girls,” he said gruffly.
“Yes, and she’s lucky to have a father like you.”
Jack was the lucky one. He was incredibly fortunate to share a child with a woman as special as Maggie. Father hood was an op he’d all but given up on.
Did he feel more for her than just a man and woman who shared a child? Was it love?
The thought shook him to his core.
“You should go in and check on her,” he suggested. “And it’s time for me to go.”
Twisting her fingers together, she looked down, then glanced up and met his gaze. “Don’t feel bad, Jack. I didn’t mean to rain on your parade—as far as taking Logan down. It’s just—I’ve been dealing with it a little longer than you have.”
“Yeah.”
He turned and walked away, letting himself out the side gate. Was it okay? Would anything ever be again?
Faith was his child—his flesh and blood. He was her father. Although she hadn’t won the lottery with him, nothing could change that fact. He would deal with the situation and do his best to take care of her. He loved her—hard as it was for him to believe himself capable of the emotion.
But what about Maggie?
Up until now his life had been all about control. He’d sup pressed his emotions to complete the mission—whatever it took. He was cynical and looked for the worst in people. Maggie deserved someone uncontaminated, uncorrupted. Loving his child was one thing. He didn’t think he was capable of feelings for a woman that were bright, whole some and unsullied.
This time her parents didn’t have to forbid him to see Maggie. He would stay away—for her sake.
Chapter 9
It was Sunday, a day of rest.
Thank God, Maggie prayed, not missing the irony. Her store was closed on Sundays—no exceptions. She was off. After pouring herself a cup of coffee, she quietly opened both the sliding-glass and screened doors, then let herself onto the patio. Faith was still asleep.
Maggie liked to get up early, especially on Sunday. It was her time. No one needed anything from her or pulled her in ten different directions. When she attended church later with Faith, God didn’t care whether or not she had on makeup. Her clothes weren’t important. Although she couldn’t go like she was now—cut-off sweat pants, baggy T-shirt, no bra, barefoot.
Standing on the patio, she enjoyed the breeze that brushed the hair back from her temples like a lover’s hands. It was downtime like this that she treasured. She could think. About anything she wanted.
Right now the first thing that came to her mind was Jack—an altogether sexy and seductive thought. A vision jumped into her mind—Jack in worn jeans that fit him like a second skin and a black T-shirt that con formed to each and every in credibly masculine contour in his broad chest and muscled arms. When her breathing instantly quickened, she was grateful to be alone.
“Hi, Maggie.”
Startled, she dropped her mug, shattering it on the cement. The liquid splashed on her bare legs. “Jack!” she cried.
In two strides he was beside her, lifting her into his arms without a word. She was too surprised to say anything. His boots crunched on the shards of her mug as he carried her to the edge of the patio and grass where the hose was neatly coiled. Grabbing it, he rinsed off her legs. The cool water felt lovely.
“You okay?” He examined the red blotches on her shins.
“Yeah. No major damage,” she said, checking out her own skin. Then she met his gaze. “You gotta quit sneaking up on me like that.”
“Sorry. I thought you heard the gate open.”
“No.”
Heat crept into her cheeks because sexy thoughts of him were the reason she hadn’t heard anything and he’d been able to sneak up on her. The deep timbre of his voice raised goose bumps on her arms that spread to her breasts and shoulders. Noting his worn jeans and snug T-shirt, she barely held in a sigh. Jack in the flesh was so much more wonderful than anything her imagination created. The scent of his after shave, his strength when he’d lifted her into his arms, the warmth of his body so close to hers. Her fantasies didn’t do justice to the data her five senses could provide. Sight, sound, smell, touch. The only un stimulated sense was taste.
She could remedy that. All she had to do was stand on tiptoe and touch her mouth to his. Suddenly it seemed like forever since they’d been together on her couch. She remembered her exhilaration when she’d felt the evidence of his desire and known beyond a shadow of a doubt—Jack Riley had wanted her. Deep disappointment and a profound emptiness opened up inside her as she realized it was the last time anything intimate had passed between them.
He’d said he wasn’t angry with her for not telling him about Faith sooner. Was he lying?
“Maybe I should put some cream on your legs,” he suggested, still checking her out.
“No,” she answered just a little too quickly and vehemently.
“Okay.” There was the slightest hint of a question in that one word.
As much as she might want any excuse to let him run his hands over her legs, no way could she permit it. Regretting lack of intimacy was one thing; changing it was not smart. She couldn’t think of anything more personal than letting him rub lotion on her legs.
Well, that wasn’t technically true. She could think of one thing that would bring them closer. In fact she remembered like it was yesterday the way he’d climbed through her bedroom window and sneaked into her room ten years ago. The things he’d done and made her feel were forever branded on her memory.
They said everything was bigger in Texas. As far as idiots, she didn’t want to be the standard for the Lone Star State. Letting Jack Riley into her heart a second time would be Texas-size dumb.
She huffed out a big breath. “That’s the second time you’ve scared the living day lights out of me. Actually the third, but it’s only the second time I lost coffee over it.”
“You’re keeping score?”
She was when the second time she’d wound up flat on her back with Jack on her front and mouth-to-mouth resuscitation not far behind.
“I am. At least this time there’s no electronic equipment nearby to short out.” Just my emotions to zap. “From now on maybe you could say ‘hey’, or give me some kind of heads-up?” She backed away from him as the breeze picked up slightly and dried the water on her legs.
“I suppose I could give you some warning.”
“You think?”
He grinned. She noticed he was doing a lot more of that lately and it made her ridiculously happy.
“I need to get a broom to sweep up the glass from my cup,” she said.
“Since I’m technically responsible, I’ll do it. In a minute,” he said. “There’s something I’d like to talk to you about. To ask you.”
He looked so serious and so darn cute she would have given him anything. “Okay.”
“Have you got any more coffee?” he asked.
“So, it’s a coffee kind of chat?”
“No. I just like yours better than mine. And the least I can do is pour you a fresh cup.”
“You’ve got a point. Yeah, I’ve got almost a full pot. Let me get you—”
He shook his head. “I didn’t rescue you from the broken mug so you could walk through it on my account. Sit down and I’ll get it.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal,” she said, lowering herself into the chair.
He disappeared inside and Maggie noticed the acute sense of alone ness that settled over her. Silly because he was coming right back. Second, a nervous sensation took hold. What he wanted to talk about probably had to be about Faith. What did he want to ask?
A proposal? She wasn’t sure why that thought popped into her head. Wishful thinking? Not really a stretch because in spite of what he believed, she felt in her gut that he was a man who tried to do the right thing. Did he think the right thing was to marry for the sake of their daughter?
The sliding screened door whispered open. He carried out two mugs, set them down on the small wrought-iron table beside her, then went back to close the door.
“Thanks,” she said as he sat in the chair beside hers. Only that small table separated them, and the distance wasn’t enough to keep the fresh, clean masculine smell of him from doing funny things to her insides. “So what is it you want to ask?”
“I’ve been thinking.”
“Uh-oh. There’s a dangerous prospect.”
“Yeah. I’ll try to watch it.” He blew on his coffee, then took a sip. “But you don’t know the half of it. I’ve been thinking about legal stuff.”
“Okay.” She studied his profile as she struggled to control her pounding heart. She’d never considered herself especially intuitive and definitely not psychic. But maybe she’d been right. Was he going to ask her to marry him?
“Define ‘legal stuff,’” she said cautiously.
“I’m Faith’s father.”
“And?” she prompted.
“I want to be a part of her life.”
“You already are. She adores you.”
“I mean legally.” He met her gaze. “I want to adopt her. There shouldn’t be any doubt about who her father is. I want it spelled out.”
“Are you talking about joint custody?”
“I guess I am,” he admitted.
Maggie felt like a deflating balloon. To think he would ask her to marry him—Texas-size dumb. Stupid thought; even stupider to care. He just didn’t feel that way about her.
“Say something. Even if you think it’s a ridiculous idea. A guy like me—”
“No. I’d never think that,” she said, reaching out to touch his arm. The skin was warm and dusted with a sprinkling of hair that tickled her fingers. “I don’t know what happened to convince you that you’re a bad guy with nothing to offer her.”
“I don’t want to talk—”
“I’m not asking you to tell me. It was merely an observation. I’ve watched you since you found out the truth—before even. You’ve taken to father hood the way an armadillo takes to under brush.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “Now that’s a flattering analogy.”
“I mean it. You spend time with her. Your patience teaching her about the computer is unbelievable. You even saw through her attempts to pit one of us against the other—without coac
hing from me. She couldn’t ask for a better father than you.”
“Yeah, she could.”
“I’m not going to argue with you about it.”
“Okay. So what do you think?”
The only time in her life when she’d been more scared was when she’d discovered she was pregnant with his child and he’d disappeared. That’s what she thought. She’d been head over heels in love with him then, with no chance they could be together. That’s what she thought, too. But Jack and Faith were father and daughter. A total stranger had figured it out. Even if she wanted, she couldn’t deny him his child. So she was facing letting him into her life—really letting him in. Making it legal somehow made it even more real. That’s what she thought.
“Maggie?”
She met his gaze and forced a smile to her lips. “I think it’s important for Faith to feel secure with a mother and a father.”
“So that’s a yes?”
“I’ll find a lawyer,” she answered.
“Jensen Stevens has leased office space in town, right next to the sheriff’s office.”
“I’ll stop by and see her tomorrow and make an appointment for us. Before I open the shop.”
“Great.”
Yeah, great, she thought. They would be a family—on paper. But she’d never felt further from him. And never wished more fervently it wasn’t so.
A week later Maggie was still stewing, a habit-in-the-making since Jack Riley had returned to Destiny. How did she stew?
“Let me count the ways,” she muttered.
There were the long sleep less nights. Then she either lost her appetite or was downing junk food as if it was all that stood between her and starvation. If that wasn’t bad enough, she zoned out at the worst times and had the concentration of a gnat. All thanks to Wild Jack Riley.
After checking on Faith who was sound asleep, another long, lonely night stretched in front of Maggie. She glanced at the pantry and tried to remember if she’d eaten all the chips, or if there was one last ice-cream sandwich left in the freezer. Before she could find out for sure, she walked onto the patio. Next door, the back spot light was on in Jack’s yard. She knew now it meant he was outside.
If You Don't Know By Now Page 11
