ONCE MORE A FAMILY

by Paula Detmer Riggs

  "Except I'm not on a case, because I don't work cases anymore. And until I can make arrangements to have someone cover for me, I have to work during the day. At least mornings, anyway. And a couple of afternoons a week when I'm locked into meetings."

  She frowned, calculated. Made her decision—and pounced. "You could be there for dinner and stay to tuck Jimmy in. After he's asleep, you can drive back to town."

  "Ree, think about that. That's two round trips, two hours on the road that I could spend with the boy. Does that really make sense?"

  Instead of answering, she shifted her gaze to the window. He didn't need the words to know what was going on inside her. She was frustrated and a little panicky. His lady was only safe when she was in control. The lists she made and checked and then checked again, the separate savings account she'd insisted on keeping when they were married, the need to weigh every decision—they ordered a world that the child in her still expected to shatter into chaos. So he'd let her organize big chunks of his life as well as hers. But not all.

  "Trust me on this, Ree." His words were just shy of pleading. "My gut tells me this is what Jimmy needs."

  "I don't think I've had enough wine to deal with this," she muttered, taking another sip.

  "Give it some time to settle in."

  She slanted him a look that had him fighting a need to grin. "Good idea. I'll let you know in twenty years."

  "Honey, I'd give you that and more, but I think this is a decision that has to be made tonight."

  "Why tonight?" she demanded, her chin up a little more than usual.

  Instead of answering, he glanced at the sleeping bag he'd propped against the fireplace. Watching her, he saw the exact moment when she made the connection.

  "I was afraid you'd say that."

  She took a gulp of wine, then licked a stray drop from her lower lip with the tip of her tongue. His body reacted with a hot, hard speed.

  "Even with twin beds it would never work," she declared in a tight voice. "Sharing a bedroom is too … intimate. We wouldn't have any privacy. Besides, you sleep in the nude."

  "So?"

  She frowned, then exhaled a little puff of air. "So we were always great in bed. It wouldn't be long before we'd start remembering that."

  Remember. He'd just spent two and half years trying to forget, with about as much luck as that tired old snowball in hell.

  "I won't deny I want to sleep with you, Ree. I do. So bad it's making me a little crazy. But I'm handling it and I'll keep on handling it. You have my word I won't crowd you."

  Yes, you will, Ria thought as she smiled again at the cat he'd brought home to her for tending.

  His mere presence crowded her. Seeing the way his eyes lit an instant before he smiled at her in that special way crowded her. The brush of his hand when he'd handed her the wine or guided her through the restaurant. Most of all, her memories crowded her. Sweet, special moments like the time he'd come home with a bruised jaw after a dust-up with a whacked-out addict to find her huddled in the middle of their bed, terrified that the spotting she was having was the beginning of a miscarriage.

  He'd held her for hours, rubbing her back until she fell asleep. He was still awake the next morning, still holding her, his eyes glazed with exhaustion. And then he'd told her how proud he was of her.

  She humbled him with her courage, he'd told her, his voice reverent.

  Her heart had tumbled then. It tumbled now.

  Steeling herself, she brought her gaze back to his. "I don't know why I'm even bothering to argue," she said, smiling a little to signal her surrender. "We both knew I'd agree before we even started this discussion. I'll do whatever it takes to bring my son back to me." She closed her eyes for a long moment, gathering strength.

  "Ree, it'll work out. We both love Jimmy enough to keep whatever resentments we have private."

  One side of her mouth slanted as she let her eyes drift open again. "I don't resent you, Grady," she said softly. "It would have been so much easier if I could."

  "I wouldn't blame you. I was a jerk." He glanced away, then almost reluctantly it seemed, brought his gaze back to hers. His shoulders eased. "I couldn't stand coming home empty-handed every night, so I ran. It was probably the stupidest mistake I've made in a long line of mistakes." His smile was fleeting, but still potent, she realized when she felt a familiar little flurry in her chest. "I've had a lot of lonely days and nights to regret it."

  Lonely?

  She felt a splash of cold on her bare thigh and realized she'd tipped the glass. Hastily, she wiped at the spill with two fingers, then licked the moisture from her fingertips. Glancing up, she caught the flash of something hot and needy in his eyes.

  The ivory walls she'd painted herself suddenly seemed to pull in closer until she was aware of her own suddenly erratic breathing. It had been so long since she'd felt like a woman. So long since she'd felt his long, hair-roughened legs tangling with hers on sheets hot and slick with their shared passion, so long since she'd thrilled to feel that magnificently male body pressing her into the mattress while his thickly engorged arousal thrust possessively inside her, making them one.

  Desire uncurled inside her, an insistent, hungry feeling in hidden places only he knew. She wanted him, and it was useless to pretend otherwise. But that would only stir up all the misery she'd oh-so slowly put behind her.

  "Don't, Grady," she said in strained vice. "You're making an already-difficult situation worse."

  His mouth slanted into the wry, self-mocking grin that was as much a defense as it was a weapon. "Why not go for broke?" He leaned forward, his body as tense as a predator about to make his move. But it was the fierce look in his eyes that kept her from moving so much as a muscle.

  "It's a whole lot more than sex, Ria, what I feel when I look at you. I fell in love with you the first time I saw you, and I'm still in love with you. I've tried every way I know how to shake free, but you're dug in deep. I'd give half the life remaining to me to wake up every morning next to you. With a ring on your finger or without, you're mine. You'll always be mine."

  He stood suddenly, surprising her into a soft, gasping breath. "Now I'm going for a run and cool-off before I do something I'll spend the next fifty years regretting. When I come back, we'll figure out what happens next."

  On the way to the door he grabbed the Lafayette SWAT cap he'd tossed onto a chair. He jammed it on his head and kept going. An instant later, the door clicked shut behind him.

  * * *

  It had been an hour since Grady had dumped his bombshell on her. As soon as she could breathe again, she'd dived into the bathroom for a quick shower, then armored herself in her frumpiest nightshirt and, for good measure, the robe that was making her feel hot and uncomfortable.

  It annoyed her no end that she was still vulnerable to the man—and very tempted.

  The house was quiet as she stalked to her dresser and glared at her reflection. Her cheeks were stained with color and her eyes were bright.

  Behind her was her bed. Her very ordinary double bed. No one had slept there except her. But now she saw him there, stretched out on his back, his legs sprawled in that loose-jointed way he had, his eyes dark and hungry.

  Desire was a gloved fist hitting her squarely in her midsection.

  "What a lousy, stinking thing to do," she muttered to the cat who sat on her pillow, staring at her in the mirror with the unblinking eyes of a born cynic. "You were there, Trouble," she muttered, picking up her hairbrush. "You saw how hard I tried to keep the marriage together. I begged him to fight for us the way he'd fought that horrible Russian. But you saw how he avoided me, how … how he flinched when I touched him."

  It had hurt then. It hurt now.

  She jerked the brush through her hair, wincing as the bristles scraped her scalp. "I adored him, Trouble," she muttered as she ruthlessly twisted her hair into a spinster's knot at the back of her head. "The blasted man broke my heart at the precise moment when I needed him most." She j
ammed another pin into the bun and glared at the cat in the mirror. "I won't … I can't go through that again."

  "Guess I can't blame you."

  She spun around to find Grady leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed, watching her with hooded eyes. Below the bill of the ratty cap he'd lifted from his SWAT team brother, Elijah, his face was flushed from wind and exertion, and his shirt was sweat darkened in a raggedly triangular patch from his shoulders to his lean belly. He looked hot and virile and very, very male. She held her breath, then realized she was waiting … wishing for him to charge across the room and sweep her into his arms.

  In spite of the sexless image she had carefully pulled around her, a part of her was desperate to feel the wild exhilaration of his touch, the mindless pleasure that splintered into rainbow shards of bliss when he was hot and hard inside her.

  He didn't move. She stopped wishing.

  "I think we need to set some ground rules for the next few weeks." She'd tried for stern and ended up with peevish. "For starters, you have got to buy some pajamas."

  He didn't smile, but his eyes crinkled just enough to tell her he'd thought about it. "I'll agree to bottoms. No tops."

  "And no flirting."

  His mouth slanted this time. "You're going to have to define that for me, honey."

  "First off, don't call me honey. Secondly, don't … look at me so much."

  "Now that's a problem, seeing as how I just can't seem to help myself."

  "Well, try."

  Trouble chose that moment to sink his needlelike claws into the satin duvet and tug. She saw the material stretch, and lunged. She came up with an armful of startled cat who immediately transferred his grip to her forearm. She shrieked and let go.

  The cat executed a graceful leap to the floor, then paused, tail waving like a battle flag to look back at her with an expression of outraged innocence on his funny face.

  "Best lie low for a while, buddy," Grady advised as he straightened and unfolded the brawny arms she'd been so eager to feel close around her. "The lady doesn't like to share her bed with scruffy dudes like you and me."

  Trouble let out an indignant and decidedly masculine meow before ambling out of the room. Ria watched him go, then shifted her gaze to the other sleek male in the room.

  The darkness in his eyes tugged at her. They'd made it work for eight of the nine years they'd had together. That made him special to her. No matter what, he would always be Jimmy's father. They would be together many times during the next decades, marking the milestones of their son's life.

  That counted for a great deal. But not enough to risk her cobbled-together peace of mind. She'd spent the first half of her life feeling like an unwanted burden. She refused to feel that way again.

  "There's something I need you to do for me," she said as she got to her feet.

  "Name it." His tone was suddenly so serious it scared her.

  "Don't be so quick to agree," she said with a smile that wasn't quite as steady as it should be.

  "Anything you want, it's yours. I love you, Ree."

  The house seemed to hold its breath as he took a step toward her. The earthy scent of wind and a powerful man's sweat enveloped her as he cupped his hands over her shoulders.

  She felt a nearly overpowering need to burrow into his strength and cling, and it shook her to the core. "That's just it, you don't really love me. You only think you do, and I'm asking you, please, not to say that you do."

  His brows drew together. "Not saying the words won't change how I feel."

  The mild tone both annoyed and encouraged her. "What you feel is lust. You want me physically, and because I'm the mother of your son and you're a very decent man, you've convinced yourself it's love."

  "Sounds like you've made up your mind." His hands were working magic on her shoulders. She wanted to purr.

  "Don't," she whispered, her gaze on the pulse beating furiously in the hollow of his sun-bronzed throat. Her own was hammering just as wildly.

  "Kiss me, Ree. Just once." His expression was intense, his eyes needy. She could swear his hand shook as he pulled the pins from her hair one by one, dropping them to the floor.

  He released her shoulders in order to frame her face with his hands. Inch by slow inch he pushed his fingers through her hair until it was fluffing around her neck.

  "Kiss me, Ree. Give me your sweetness."

  She felt the heat of him now, and the need, drawing her in. Promising excitement and a soul-shattering pleasure. But at what cost?

  More years of struggling not to be hurt when he missed birthdays and anniversaries? Long, lonely nights waiting for him to come home? Emotional upheaval?

  Chaos.

  "I can't."

  His eyes darkened. "You want to. Your eyes are wild with wanting."

  She didn't bother to deny it. What was the point? They both knew he could make her burn with merely a look.

  "I've wanted your kisses before. I wanted all of you. Your smiles, your laughter. Your love. And more. But it's not enough. I want dependability and stability. And I want those things for Jimmy."

  His big hand massaged the spot between her shoulder blades that always made her crazy. Already shivers were sliding like warm rivulets down her spine.

  "I'll give you those things, Ree. I'm a desk jockey now. Some weeks I never hit the street at all."

  "It's too late, Grady. Maybe if Jimmy hadn't been taken, we might have been able to make it right."

  "That's it then? No second chances?"

  "I'll always care for you, Grady," she said around the sudden swift rush of pain. "But I don't love you anymore. What we had is gone."

  "For you maybe, but not me. I promised to stick and that's what I'm doing." His jaw took on a harder line. "Those words we said in church, I meant them. I still do, though God knows, it doesn't seem to matter."

  He let her go so quickly she swayed. "You wanted the divorce."

  "You wanted the divorce," he said in a hard, clipped tone. "I figured you'd been through enough, so I signed the papers your lawyer stuck in front of me. But make no mistake, Ree, I didn't want to split up."

  She stared at him, unable to believe her ears. Not once, during the torturous process of dismantling their marriage had he even hinted he was feeling more than a certain detached relief.

  "What choice did we have?" she said when she realized she had to say something. "We were tearing each other apart. A few more months and we would have ended up saying ugly, awful things that neither of us would ever have been able to forget." She took a breath. "Or forgive," she added more softly.

  He flexed his shoulders, as though shaking off a blow. "We could have hung in. Gotten counseling. Talked it out."

  "How could we talk when you were never there?" She hadn't meant to say that. "I'm sorry," she said, then smiled sadly. "See, it's starting already." She glanced past his shoulder. The house was quiet, the walls well insulated. But the cottage walls were thin.

  "We can't do this again. If Jimmy should hear, it would destroy everything we're trying to accomplish." She touched his arm. It went iron hard, but at least he didn't flinch. "Agreed?"

  "Agreed," he said with a careless movement of one big shoulder.

  "That … that doesn't mean we can't be friends," she assured him. And herself. "For Jimmy's sake."

  "Sure, friends." He whipped off his cap and ran a hand through his damp hair before sniffing the air. "Damn, one of us in this room stinks."

  She felt a smile tug at her lips. He made it easy to tell herself he wasn't really hurting. "I'm pretty sure it's not me."

  "Guess that leaves me." His grin was crooked and almost careless. Almost. "I'll grab a quick shower and then we can work out some more of those house rules."

  * * *

  So much for baring his soul.

  Grady stripped off his sodden shirt and dropped it on the floor of the guest bathroom. Even with his eyes open and the light on, he felt as though he'd walked into a black, airless cave
where he'd been sent to live out his life alone.

  Feeling about as low as low gets, he dropped his jeans atop his shirt and stepped out of his skivvies. He twisted on the hot water, then added enough cold to keep from scalding his butt.

  He pressed both hands against the slick tile and ducked his head under the hard spray, letting the water pound at the knot between his shoulder blades. Steam filled the tiled cubicle, making his eyes sting. Out of air, he drew a huge breath that hurt all the way to the soles of his feet. She said he was a decent man.

  She didn't love him.

  She wanted to be friends.

  She didn't love him.

  He opened his eyes and stared at the water swirling around his feet. He was some kind of fool to think he could walk back into her life and with a few stiff words blurted out without more than a few seconds planning, have her falling into his arms again.

  Maybe if he'd been the one to rescue their son, she might have forgotten he'd also been the one who'd brought hell down around them in the first place. Women liked heroes, didn't they?

  Maybe if he'd kicked down a few doors, busted a few heads. Taken another bullet. Maybe then she'd love him. Maybe…

  The pain in his chest ground harder.

  Hell.

  He'd been wrong. Life didn't give second chances.

  Not his life, anyway.

  Women wanted the words, his mom had said. Well, he'd given her words, and she'd handed them back to him, along with a prim little speech that had cut all the way to the bone.

  With a savage curse that came all the way from the black depths of his soul, he straightened and reached for the soap.

  * * *

  Ria was huddled into her pillow, drifting in the surreal twilight between deep sleep and a restless uneasiness when she was jerked into full awakening by a muted and very male curse in the semidarkness.

  Before she could do more than turn her head, Grady had folded into a crouch next to the bed and was sliding the sleeping bag bundle under the frame. In the faint gleam of the hall light shining through the crack in the door, she saw the massive outline of his bare shoulders and the flash of his bright hair as he stood suddenly.