Surrender To Sultry

by Macy Beckett

  Helping her dress and driving her home almost proved more than he could bear, and after he walked her to the door and left her with one final kiss, she disappeared inside the house, taking his heart with her. He stood on her front stoop, staring at the door, his feet unwilling to move, his arms aching to hold her again. A couple of his other parts missed her too.

  When he returned home to his empty bed, his pillow mocked him with Leah’s lingering scent. He hugged it close and vowed not to spend another day without her by his side. There was only one cure for what ailed him, and the idea set a smile in motion across his lips. Tomorrow he’d ask her to be his wife.

  “Leah Nicole Bea,” he said to himself. Her name tasted mighty good on his tongue.

  Chapter 16

  “Leah McMahon, huh?”

  “Yeah,” Colt said, handing his old friend a mug of coffee. It was the least he could do, considering Greg had driven all the way out here at the ass-crack of dawn. “She’s the one. I knew it back in high school.”

  “Congrats, buddy.” Greg sipped his coffee and set the mug on the end table. “You called the right man. I’m gonna hook you up.” He opened the travel case balanced on his lap and lifted a gold ring from inside. “This one’s a popular style with the ladies because it sits low on the hand. It won’t snag on fabrics or hair. Good for a nurse—she’s a nurse, right?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Colt took the ring and held it to the light, where a tiny diamond caught the sun and sprayed rainbows on the sofa. It seemed wrong buying an engagement ring from a pawnbroker, but the nearest jeweler was two hours away, and Colt didn’t want to wait that long to ask for Leah’s hand. Being apart from her for the last ten hours had him more jittery than the addicts he’d busted stealing copper from the air conditioners on Main Street last week.

  He passed the ring back to Greg. “Got anything bigger?”

  “How big you want it?”

  Colt spread his palms wide. “The biggest you’ve got.” Despite Leah’s promise that she wasn’t interested in Dr. Douchebag, he still wanted to outdo the asshole. Colt’s grandma had passed down a ring for his future wife to wear, but the modest garnet wouldn’t catch anyone’s eye. He’d give Leah a diamond so friggin’ huge it’d make her forget whatever sparkler had rested on her finger before.

  “Okay.” Greg nodded appreciatively and plucked another ring from his case. “This one’s a two-carat round brilliant solitaire set in platinum. It’s an I-1 but you can’t tell because of the way it’s set.”

  “An aye-what?” Colt asked.

  “I-1. That means it’s got flaws visible to the naked eye. This one’s got a pretty hefty carbon spot.” Greg scooted closer on the sofa and pointed to the edge of a marble-sized diamond that appeared crystal clear. “The jeweler who set the stone was smart enough to cover it with a prong.” He turned it upside down. “But if you look at it from this angle, you can see a dot of carbon near the girdle. See what I mean?”

  Colt took the ring and squinted at the tiny black spot, then flipped it over and scrutinized the diamond from the top. Greg was right. A shiny platinum prong completely concealed the imperfection. When Leah wore this enormous rock on her hand, the only thing her admirers would see was a blinding sparkle that said Back off, motherfuckers! This girl’s taken!

  “It’s perfect,” Colt said. “How much?”

  “For you? Ten strong.”

  Ten thousand dollars? That was a lot more than the two paychecks DeBeers suggested he spend when he visited their website last night. He didn’t have that kind of cash on him. He didn’t have it in savings either. He could take out a loan or cash in some retirement, but that didn’t seem like a good way to start a marriage.

  Colt slipped the tiny band on his pinky and watched the stone refract the morning sunbeams over his hand in an array of dazzling prisms. He’d never given a shit about jewelry, but even he was impressed. There was no way Leah would say no to this ring. He imagined the way her baby blues would widen in shock when he knelt at her feet and pulled it from his pocket. He simply had to give it to her. Maybe he lacked the greenbacks, but he did have something Greg had been drooling over for years.

  “I don’t have ten grand,” Colt said, then nodded toward the garage. “But I’ve got a fully restored 1978 Harley-Davidson XLCR Café Racer with upgraded transmission and suspension. Custom paint job too.”

  Greg froze. He’d been after that bike since high school, when Colt had bought it out from under him at the junkyard. “You’d better not be shitting me.”

  Colt held up one hand. “Zero shit. I’ll even throw in the helmets.”

  They sealed the deal in less than sixty seconds, and Greg hauled ass out of there with the title in his fist, probably afraid Colt would come to his senses and give back the ring. With a promise to return for his truck later, Greg left it parked on the driveway and elected to ride the Harley back into town. Then he revved up the hog and rode out of sight.

  It stung to lose the old girl, but Leah was worth it. Besides, they’d adopt a couple of kids, and Colt would be a family man. What did he need with a motorcycle?

  ***

  “I’m going to tell him today,” Leah said to Rachel’s image on the iPad. “For real this time.”

  “Whatever you say.” To her surprise, Rachel didn’t lecture her like Daddy had done. “I know how hard this must be for you. Just try not to put it off too much longer, because it won’t magically get easier tomorrow.”

  “Oh, there’s no chance of backing out,” Leah said. “Colt called and I told him we need to talk, so he’s on his way over. I sent Daddy to the grocery so we’d have some privacy, and he has my permission to tell Colt the truth if I chicken out.” Which wouldn’t happen. She loved Colt too much to let him learn about his son that way.

  Rachel nodded and blew a kiss into the screen. “I’m still sending all my good mojo in your direction. But this time, don’t use it to get laid.”

  “Shh!” Leah cringed and glanced over both shoulders before she remembered she was alone. “I hate that term. We didn’t get laid. We made love.”

  Rachel rolled her eyes and pretended to gag herself. “I’m gonna make vomit if you don’t shut up.”

  Leah stuck out her tongue. “One day you’ll understand.”

  “Sex is sex, no matter what you call it. Some guys are better than others, but it’s still just bumping uglies.”

  Bumping uglies? That sounded so…ugly. Definitely not a fair description of what she and Colt had shared last night.

  The doorbell rang, sending a chill skittering down Leah’s spine. She darted a glance out the living room window and noticed Colt’s cruiser in the driveway. Oh, God bless, he was here.

  The panic must have shown on her face, because Rachel used a firm voice to bolster her confidence. “Listen to me, Tink. You’re the strongest, most selfless person I know. You can do this. Go face him and then call me. I’ll have my cell in my pocket all day.”

  Leah nodded and licked her lips. She could do this. She had to. Numbly, she said good-bye and powered off her iPad, then stood from the sofa, wiped her palms against her jeans, and answered the front door.

  Colt greeted her with a fistful of daisies. “I know tulips are your favorite,” he said, “but they’re hard to come by this time of year.” He smiled and drew a shaky breath while blotting his forehead with his sweater sleeve. He looked even more nervous than she felt.

  “Thanks, they’re beautiful.” She took the bouquet and brought it to her nose, even though daisies didn’t have much of a scent. “Come on in.”

  He followed her inside, where she rested her flowers on the coffee table and took a seat on the sofa. Colt lowered beside her and quickly captured her cheeks between his palms for a kiss. She didn’t resist him. A small voice at the back of her mind warned this might be the last time her li
ps moved in perfect synch with Colt’s, so she linked her wrists behind his broad neck and let him capture her mouth for a few blissful minutes.

  When they parted, Colt told her, “I missed you.”

  Leah’s heart warmed. She’d missed him too, but she knew she was in danger of losing her nerve if she spent another moment in his arms. She scooted back to give herself some space. “Thanks for coming. There’s something important we need to talk about.”

  Colt’s expression flattened, his gaze flickering to the newly vacated spot beside him. His already dewy forehead paled a few shades, and suddenly she understood the reason behind his jitters. He probably thought she’d called him over here to break up with him.

  “It’s not about last night,” she clarified, taking his hand in both of hers. “I’m not sorry for what happened.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “It was perfect. I want us to share a thousand more nights just like it.” Steeling her resolve, she drew a deep cleansing breath and blew it out slowly. “That’s why I asked you over.” You can do this. Stay strong. She dropped her gaze into her lap and then peeked up at him. “I’ve been keeping something from you. There’s a reason I left Texas and stayed away so long, and I can’t let things go any farther between us until I tell you the truth.”

  He squeezed her hand and laughed dryly. “You’re not married, are you?”

  She only wished it were that simple. “No.”

  “Then whatever it is, it can’t be so bad.”

  Oh, Lord, yes it could. “I did something really awful, Colt. I made a choice a long time ago that affected us both, but I didn’t give you any say in the decision. Now I have to ask you to forgive me.”

  He lowered his brows in confusion. “You’re starting to make me worry. Are you hurt or someth—”

  “I was pregnant,” she blurted, the words amplified in the small space. Softer, she added, “When I left home at the end of senior year, I was two months pregnant.”

  His grip tightened around her fingers before going slack. It took a few beats for him to find his voice. “Was?” He swallowed hard. “Did you miscarry? Or have an…an abortion?”

  “No,” she answered, “I had the baby. I hemorrhaged afterward, and they had to do an emergency hysterectomy. That’s why I can’t have children.”

  He worked free from her grasp and raked a hand through his loose hair. His gaze traveled absently around the room before settling on her again. “You’re serious?”

  “I wouldn’t joke about something like this.” She reached for her iPad and pulled up a photo of herself at seventeen, her eyes hollow with grief, her belly swollen with Colt’s child. “That was taken two weeks before I delivered.”

  He stared at the photo in silence.

  To maintain some distance, she anchored the tablet on the sofa between them, then swiped through the albums in chronological order. Next came a waterlogged Noah swaddled in his hospital bassinet, a tiny blue cap covering his cone-shaped newborn head. Other pictures followed: Noah sitting up on his own, drooling beneath a gummy smile; Noah standing for the first time, arms stretched toward the camera; Noah perched on Santa’s lap, face frozen in a hysterical wail.

  “You had a baby,” Colt muttered, more to himself than to her.

  “We had a baby.” She continued swiping through the digital account of their son’s life, stopping when she reached his third grade portrait. “His name’s Noah. He looks just like you.”

  “We had a baby,” Colt repeated, “and you never told me.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  His eyes were glassy, his voice vacant. “I have a son.”

  This was the hardest part—ripping the rug out from beneath him—telling Colt that even though he had a son, he couldn’t be a parent. “Yes and no.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I put him up for adoption when he was born.”

  For several long moments, he stared at her blankly, but Colt’s gaze shifted and darkened as he processed her confession. Then his eyes narrowed in clear resentment. His anger left her with an odd sense of relief. Finally he was seeing her for who she was—a flawed, dishonest human being instead of an angel.

  “It’s an open adoption,” she explained. “That means I get to see him about once a month and talk to him on the phone when he feels like calling. They usually give me visitation around the holidays too. Noah understands that I gave birth to him, but he doesn’t call me Mom. He’s not my son—not legally. I’m not allowed to sign his school permission slips or talk to his doctor when he’s sick. So he’s our child biologically, but not in any other way.”

  “And you didn’t tell me,” Colt repeated, but this time his tone sharpened, taking on a dangerous edge.

  Leah’s throat grew thick and her eyes prickled, but she refused to let herself cry. After what she’d done, she didn’t deserve to cry. “I was young and scared, Colt. I didn’t know what to do. We’d just broken up and—”

  “Is that why you did it?” he asked. “To get back at me for sleeping with you and telling Tommy after?”

  “No!” She couldn’t let him think she’d made this decision out of spite. “I was trying to do the best thing for our baby.” Memories of that time trickled into her consciousness, causing tears to well up and blur her vision. “It almost killed me to give him up. I cried myself to sleep every night for the first six months, and each morning when I woke up, I wanted to die.” She knew better than to try and take Colt’s hand, so she wrung hers together and pleaded for understanding. “There’s no pain in the world like carrying a child for nine months and watching another woman take him home, especially knowing I can’t get pregnant again.”

  “Stop trying to sound like a martyr,” he said. “You did this to yourself.”

  “But I was only thinking of Noah.” How could she make him understand? “I loved him more than I loved myself—or you.”

  “Bullshit.” He glared at her like she was something he’d scraped off the bottom of his shoe. “If that were true, you would’ve kept him.”

  Leah gasped at the malice behind those words. If he was trying to hurt her, he’d done a thorough job. “You’re wrong. It would’ve been easier for me to keep Noah, but it wasn’t the right thing to do. His happiness was more important than mine. I couldn’t take care of him—not like he deserved.”

  Colt shook his head, unmoved. “I would’ve helped.”

  “You were in jail.”

  “For a few days,” he argued, raising his voice. “Once I found out about the baby, I would’ve gotten my act together. I would’ve married you and worked my ass off to support us.”

  “You and me, married at seventeen?” She remembered how wild and arrogant he’d been, even if time had made him forget. “It would’ve been a train wreck. Neither of us was ready.”

  “Our parents could’ve helped out while—”

  “I didn’t want that for Noah.”

  “You didn’t want that? What about me?” Colt pointed to the iPad, where Noah smiled at them beneath a mop of black hair. “That boy’s half mine. Who were you to decide all this without asking how I felt? You took my child and gave him to strangers and then you kept it a secret for—” Fire flashed behind his gaze, his voice cutting sharper than a razor blade. “That’s why you stayed gone so long. So I couldn’t get my boy back from his so-called parents.” Colt stood and demanded, “What’re their names?”

  “They’re not bad people—”

  “Their names!” he shouted.

  Leah cringed beneath the weight of Colt’s fury and tried to soften him. “Jim and Diane Ackerman. They’re good parents, I swear. I’ll introduce you and explain everything. I’m sure they’ll let you meet Noah.”

  Colt’s countenance transformed into an eerie calm that made the hair on her arms stan
d on end. “Oh, will they?” he asked, smooth as cream. “How generous of them to let me see my own son, especially after they adopted him illegally.”

  “It’s not like that,” she insisted. “I lied to them too. I told them I didn’t know who the father was.”

  “Did they run a notice in all the newspapers here?” Colt asked, his voice deceptively placid. “Did they at least try to find me, or did they hurry up and hire some shyster to push the adoption through?”

  She could see where this was headed, and she had to stop him from disrupting Noah’s life. “They’re Noah’s parents and he loves them.”

  “We’re his parents.”

  “Listen, please.” She wanted to run to her bedroom and hide under the covers, but she stood and faced Colt, squaring her shoulders even though she felt naked and two feet tall. “What I did was wrong, and I’m sorry. Sorrier than you’ll ever know. But don’t punish Noah because you’re mad at me. You can’t do anything to—”

  “Don’t you dare,” he said, colder and harder than winter steel, “tell me what I can’t do.” He reached into his back pocket and retrieved his wallet, then began fishing through it, pulling out credit cards and scraps of paper. “You took my child and gave him away when he could’ve lived with family. I never got to hold him or hear his first words.” Colt used his wallet to point to Noah’s image on the iPad. “Or watch him get on the bus for the first day of kindergarten, or teach him how to throw a football. You got to see all of it, but I missed everything, and I can’t ever get it back. It’s like you stole a whole other life from me.” For a moment, his anger faded and he pinned her in place with a wounded look. “I didn’t think you were capable of anything so heartless. All these years I loved you because you were the finest person I knew.” He shook his head sadly. “I didn’t know you at all.”