by Judy Duarte
She rolled over, snatched the phone from the nightstand and flipped it open. “Hello?”
“Kristin Reynolds?”
“Yes.” She fumbled for the switch on the lamp, until the light came on, then grimaced at the strain it put on her eyes.
“This is Marianne Boswell from Oceana General, one of the nurses in the ICU.”
Uh-oh. Was something wrong? “How’s my father?”
“Pretty feisty for a man who just came out of surgery. But he insists on talking to you, so I’m helping to put the call through.”
Kristin clutched the small phone, pressing it closer to her ear.
“Krissy?” Her father’s voice was hoarse and raspy, but the fact he’d used her childhood nickname offered a rush of hope.
“I’m here, Daddy.”
“Honey, I want you to know I’m sorry. For so many things.”
Oh, thank God. He wasn’t going to hate her for the rest of his life, wasn’t going to punish her. “Me, too, Daddy.”
He cleared his throat, as though talking was an effort. Or maybe he was struggling to find the right words. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about what I’ve done. About what Harry’s wife said to me. And the fact is, I want to make things right. And that’s something I want to do, whether I live or die.”
“I want that, too, Daddy.”
“Good.” He took a ragged breath, then slowly blew it out. “I’ve been trying to make decisions for you that weren’t mine to make. And I made it so tough to challenge me, that you lied rather than buckle under my demands. I’m not going to fault you for that. It’s your life, baby girl, and I’ll try to respect your choices.”
“I should have been honest with you, even if it caused a confrontation.”
He paused for a moment, and she wondered whether he’d heard her, or if he’d succumbed to the effects of medication and dozed off. “I…uh…have some things to…confess…things I’m sorry for.”
Each of his words seemed to be a struggle, and Kristin heard murmurs on the other line. The nurse, she assumed, was trying to take the phone away from him.
“Get the hell away,” he muttered. “I’m sorry, Marianne. That was rude of me.” He cleared his throat. “This turning-over-a-new-leaf business isn’t as easy as it seems. Please, nurse. Just give me a minute more.”
A new leaf? Was Thomas Reynolds actually admitting he needed to change? To bend?
Kristin wasn’t sure what Kay had told him, but she’d said he would need to chew on her words for a while. And, apparently, he had.
“I want to get some things off my chest.”
“What kind of things?”
He blew out a sigh. “Your mother wasn’t happily married to me. And she’d asked for a divorce just before she died.”
“Why?”
“She wanted more of my time, more of me. But I was too busy building a fortune to give her what she wanted. And too damn stubborn to apologize or try and make things right.” He paused for a moment, as though trying to find the strength. “I might not have spent much time with her, but I loved her. And when she told me she’d become interested in someone else and was leaving and taking you with her, I did everything I could to prevent it. Everything except tell her the things that might have made her want to stay.”
“What did you do?”
“I was furious. And hurt. And I lashed out at her, accusing her of infidelity when things probably hadn’t gotten that far yet. And I began a custody battle I had every intention of winning—at any cost.” He cleared his throat and choked out a little cough. “I should have taken time off work, taken her to Europe on a second honeymoon. Bought her roses everyday. Told her I loved her.”
“I’m sure she knows how you feel now.”
“I hope you’re right. But I’ve been a bastard over the years. And I’m not sure that I deserve anyone’s forgiveness.”
“You have mine, Daddy.”
“Thanks, but I haven’t told you everything yet. I lied to you, too, Krissy.”
“When?”
“Back when you asked me not to talk to Joe. I went to see him anyway and demanded he leave you alone. And when he refused, I offered him money. Five grand, to be exact. But he turned it down, and I had to try another tack. I convinced him that you deserved so much better than him.”
Her father had instigated their breakup?
“Joe said he didn’t love me anymore,” she said, trying to grasp what had really happened eight years ago.
“I told him that if he really loved you, he’d let you go. And he did. I’m sorry for interfering. He’s turned out to be a decent sort. And he’s been good to Bobby.”
“Yes, he’s been wonderful.” She nibbled on her bottom lip. Joe loved her back then? Did he still love her?
“Krissy, will you give a stubborn old man one more chance?”
She ought to be angry, unforgiving. But it was time to bury the past. To start living in the future. “Of course, Daddy. I’ll come by in the morning and talk to you. Get some rest, all right?”
“Okay. I love you, baby girl.”
“I love you, too.”
She heard him mumble a thank-you to the nurse before the line disconnected.
There were some changes coming down the pike. Changes that would be interesting to watch unfold.
Kristin peered through the slats of the blinds into the darkened complex.
How long had she slept? Covering a yawn with her hand, she searched for a clock, but didn’t spot one. Hadn’t there been one in here earlier?
She swung her legs from the bed, but didn’t stand. Instead, she reached for one of the pillows and held it under her nose, felt the softness that supported Joe’s head, inhaled the musky scent that had provided her with his comfort during slumber.
It was a comfort she could grow to appreciate, if given the chance. After savoring one last whiff, she replaced the pillow near the headboard.
What time was it?
There was only one way to find out. She slipped out of bed, opened the bedroom door and padded into the living room. Her gaze fell on Joe, who sat on the sofa.
He wore a pair of worn jeans, unbuttoned at the top. No shirt. No shoes.
His lips quirked into a slow grin that stole her breath away.
“How’d you sleep?” he asked.
“Great. I think. What time is it?”
“Nearly midnight.” He nodded toward the alarm clock on the lamp table. “I thought if you couldn’t see the time, you might sleep better.”
“It must have worked. I slept for about twelve hours.”
“Yeah, well, we stayed away for most of the afternoon and evening, just so it would be more quiet.”
That was sweet of him. “Thanks.”
“I hope that call you received wasn’t bad news.”
“No. It was good. My father wanted to talk to me, to apologize about a few things. He’s never been one to admit his mistakes, so it’s nice to think we might be able to get things cleared up between us.”
Joe nodded.
“Is Bobby asleep?”
“Yeah. Since about nine.” He pointed toward a plastic bag on the recliner. “We picked up some things for you. A toothbrush. Some soap that Bobby thought would smell better to you than the stuff I use. The nightgown was Bobby’s idea. He said you never sleep in things that show your legs and arms.”
She didn’t know why her son had come to that conclusion. She didn’t always cover up like he’d implied, although she never wore skimpy nightclothes.
And speaking of skimpy, she glanced down at the front of the navy blue T-shirt that said Property of Bayside Fire Department and barely reached her thighs. She tugged at the hem, hoping it covered her panties.
“The nightgown we bought is kind of fancy and looks a lot like one Doris Day might have worn in one of those old movies, but it’s long and has sleeves. Personally, I think the shirt looks better.”
She smiled, her heart warmed by the compliment. But for some r
eason, she didn’t want to be covered in satin from neck to ankles. Maybe because the spark of interest in his eyes pleased her, excited her.
But that would remain her secret. She glanced at the shopping bag. She’d already purchased a toothbrush while at the hospital, along with a travel-size tube of toothpaste, but didn’t say anything. Nor did she mention that the soap she’d used in the shower earlier today wasn’t so bad. In fact, the masculine, sea-breezy scent reminded her of him as she slid the bar over her slick, wet body.
“Do you want to look in on Bobby?” he asked. “I’ve given him the spare room and ordered him a bed, but they won’t be delivering it until next Thursday. So we opened up the sofa sleeper.”
Joe was making room for Bobby in his home, as well as his life. It was obvious he loved their son, which was great.
But could he love her again, too?
“Come on.” Joe led her to the bedroom he’d given Bobby and opened the door. Their son slept soundly, a blue plaid blanket draped over him, his arm clutching a brand new baseball mitt.
Apparently, Kristin wasn’t the only one who’d benefited from the shopping trip.
“This room is still kind of cluttered,” Joe whispered, “but I’m going to move some of this stuff to the storage shed, and Bobby’s going to help me decorate it so it’s more suitable for a kid.”
The sofa bed took up most of the space, but a file cabinet rested in the corner, next to a set of golf clubs, a surfboard and a table that held a thirteen-inch TV.
Kristin suspected Bobby would enjoy fixing up the room that would be his. Apparently, he and Joe had discussed him visiting more often.
“Have you told him who you are?” she asked softly, no longer willing to hold Joe to his promise. What was the use?
“No. I promised to wait until you decided it was time. Remember?”
She did. And she appreciated Joe being a man of his word.
“And when the time is right,” Joe added quietly. “I think it’s something we should tell him together.”
If there’d ever been a doubt about Joe’s true colors, the truth shined through like a rainbow after a storm.
“You’re right,” she said. “And it’s time to tell Bobby the truth. My dad has accepted the fact, but even if he hadn’t, Bobby needs to know you’re his father.”
“Thanks.”
They stood like that for a while, caught in a warm sense of family, as they watched their son sleep.
But Kristin was also accosted by sexual awareness, as sea-breezy whisper settled around her. Joe’s presence was so real, so strong, that she could practically feel the warmth of his breath and the steady beat of his heart.
She wanted to turn, to wrap her arms around his neck and tell him that she loved him, that she’d never stopped. That she never would.
But a revelation like that might ruin the friendship they’d created for their son’s benefit.
Still, a growing arousal continued to build, and she couldn’t help but wonder whether he felt it, too.
She turned and caught his eye. Something brewed in the amber depths. Something she didn’t dare try to interpret for fear she’d read something in it, something she wanted so badly to see.
He reached up, stroked the sleep-ruffled strands of her hair, but she didn’t flinch. Didn’t balk. She wanted him to touch her. To connect with her on some level. Any level.
Memories and unfulfilled dreams stirred between them as surely as if she and Joe had voiced each one out loud.
And God help her, she desperately wanted to relive every sweet moment they’d ever shared.
All she had to do was make the first move.
Joe had promised himself he wouldn’t push Kristin, wouldn’t ask for more than she was able to give. But she looked so damn sexy standing before him, her hair tousled from sleep and wearing nothing more than an old T-shirt that was destined to become his favorite.
As the pheromones and memories swirled around them, tangling them in something the years hadn’t weakened, he decided to throw caution to the wind. “Did you ever love Dylan?”
“No,” she said, her voice soft and velvety, like the lining of a jewelry box that held something valuable locked away. “I wanted to.”
Joe couldn’t help but poke at the lock, hoping it would open. “Why?”
“Because I wanted Bobby to have a two-parent family.” The longing in her gaze turned his heart on end. “But no matter how kind he was to me and no matter how hard I tried, I could never really love him back. I love someone else, Joe. I always have. And I’m afraid I always will.”
“Who?” he asked, still poking, still prodding. But he had to hear it. Had to be sure.
“I love you. But I’ll try to put that aside for Bobby’s sake.”
Put it aside? God, his heart was pumping like a runaway train.
Kristin still loved him.
And he was struck by another grand-slam high. “Don’t you think loving me will make things better for Bobby?”
“Not if you aren’t able to love me again. Like you did once before.”
Joe placed a hand along her jaw and stroked her cheek with his thumb. “I never stopped loving you, Kristin. Not ever. I just wanted to set you free. To give you a chance to meet a guy like Dylan. A guy who could give you the kind of life you deserved.”
He didn’t mention her father’s involvement in that decision; he couldn’t see any reason to. Joe could have told the old man to go to hell and continued to see her. But he hadn’t. He’d let her go instead. And he would take full responsibility for the choice he’d made.
“Dylan couldn’t possibly give me the kind of life I want,” she said, her voice soft yet nearly breathless, “the kind of home and family I need.”
A sappy grin that began in his chest busted free and rose to the surface. “Do you think I have a shot at giving you what you want and need?”
“You’re the only one who can.” The love in her smile drew him into her heart, her soul. “So what are we going to do about this, Joe?”
“We’re going to do what we should have done years ago. We’re going to get married and give our son a family.”
She slipped her arms around his neck and dazzled him with a dimpled smile. “I’d like that. Very much.”
“Oh yeah?” He slid her a crooked grin. “Then let’s celebrate our engagement.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“I can go to the liquor store down the street and buy a bottle of champagne—if you’ll drink it with me in bed.”
A playful grin lit her eyes. “I’m not willing to let you leave tonight, not even for a few minutes. But I’m all for celebrating. In bed.”
Then she drew his mouth to hers. They kissed with youthful abandon, falling under the spell of the desire that had once consumed them, the fiery passion that promised to blaze for the rest of their lives.
She opened her mouth and their tongues mated, seeking and tasting, until they were consumed by the desire they’d once shared.
It took all Joe had to end the kiss, to nod toward the sleeping form of their son. “Come on. Let’s take this into the other room.”
“Good idea.” She slipped her hand in his, fingers threading, linking them. Locking them together.
He led her into his bedroom, then closed the door, eager to make her his in every sense of the word. But when he turned and saw her waiting by the bed, his breath caught.
Wearing not much more than the navy-blue T-shirt, and sporting a shy but willing smile, she looked like a dream come true. His dream.
Ever so slowly, she lifted the hem of the shirt over her head, revealing a pair of white panties and breasts that were fuller, softer than he’d remembered. Breasts that he never thought he’d see again.
“Kristin,” he whispered, his voice low, husky and filled with reverence. “You’re beautiful.”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and scrunched her pretty face. “You must not be looking at my stretch marks or the fl
abby pooch of my tummy.”
He made his way toward her and placed a hand on her belly, on the faint lines that bore testimony of her pregnancy, of the child she’d carried for him. Then he dropped to his knees and kissed each mark.
Kristin’s breath caught as he nuzzled lower, taunting her with his lips, his tongue. And when she thought her knees would surely buckle, he stood, lifted her in his arms and carried her to his bed, where he slipped off her panties and finished what he’d begun.
He kissed her where she’d never been kissed, loved her in a way she’d never been loved.
Feeling young and virginal again, she closed her eyes, enjoying every tantalizing sensation, arching toward him until she peaked and cried out when a powerful climax rocked her to the core.
When she opened her eyes, she saw him watching her with love glistening in his gaze.
“That was…wonderful. I’ve never…uh…” Well, she’d never experienced anything like that before. Read about it, of course. “It always seemed so…intimate. But with you, it was…natural and right.”
He slid her a bad-boy grin, then rolled to the side, slipped off his jeans and took her into his arms.
Her breasts pressed against his chest, and he covered her mouth with his. Their hands caressed, explored, laying claim to each other’s bodies.
As an ache grew deep in her womb, she reached for him, letting him know she wanted him inside of her, where he belonged.
A moan sounded low in his throat, mingling with a whimper of her own. And when she didn’t think she could stand it any longer, he entered her, making them one.
She met each of his thrusts, giving and taking until a star-spinning climax rocked her heart and soul.
They made love three times that evening, each sweet joining better than the last.
And as the sun slowly rose in the east, lighting the room and bringing the dawn of a new day, Joe ran a hand along the curve of her hip. “Your dad may have a hard time with this relationship.”
“Daddy loves one Davenport kid. I’m sure he’ll adjust to having another in the family.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“You’re going to be a priority in my life, Joe, along with Bobby. And my father will have to get used to that.”
