Riley's Baby Boy

by Karen Rose Smith

  “I can stay here with Derek,” Riley offered, “If you want to go meet her.”

  Brenna felt torn. “I want to be here. Since he’s getting a shot today, I want to be with him when he does. Let me call my client,” she said. “I think she was going to visit with her sister while she’s here. They were driving up together.”

  Brenna made the call from an alcove off the waiting room. When she returned to Riley, he looked at her with questions in his eyes.

  “She wasn’t happy, but I told her I knew this really good place for lunch, the Shamrock Grill, and if she and her sister wanted to have lunch there before we got together, it was on me.”

  Riley grinned. “You’re not bad at PR.”

  “I’ve had some practice,” she joked, then she remembered the conversation Riley’d had with his brother. “Are you sure you can’t convince your brothers to come over for dinner some evening?”

  “I’ll try again, but for now I think it’s a lost cause. I think we should just wait until we all get together at the restaurant next weekend. That will be easier for everyone.”

  She wasn’t so sure about that, but she knew what Riley meant. There would be lots of people to fill in the gaps of conversation. She wanted Derek to know his uncles as well as his aunt and his grandparents. But it was up to them what kind of relationship they’d have.

  When the nurse finally motioned them back to the examination room, Brenna just wanted this visit over. The doctor came in with a smile. Dr. Rayburn had almost white hair, twinkling blue eyes and a relaxed demeanor. He shook their hands and then took Derek from Brenna. Derek wasn’t too happy with having his nap disrupted. He started fussing almost immediately.

  “Can I hold him while you examine him?” she asked the doctor.

  “For some of the time,” the doctor said. “But then I’d like to lay Derek on the table so I can check his reflexes and watch his general movement. There’s more to a checkup than ears, nose and throat. I’m watching for developmental signs, too. And he needs to be able to move freely for me to see those. Okay?”

  Brenna suddenly felt Riley’s hand on her shoulder, and she nodded. “Okay.”

  The exam didn’t take long and the doctor looked pleased with everything he saw.

  “Weight is good,” he said, checking the chart.

  The nurse came in with the injection and Brenna felt herself flinch. “It will be over before you know it,” the doctor told her, his voice kind.

  “I can hold him now?” she asked.

  “Sure, you can. This will take about two seconds.” Riley squeezed her shoulder again as the doctor gave the injection and Derek cried. She felt like crying herself.

  “It’s all over,” he said. “He shouldn’t have any side effects.”

  “I know, I looked it up on the internet.”

  “A well-informed mom.”

  “I try to be.” She’d slipped Derek back into the sling on her chest, and he was quiet now as she rocked back and forth.

  Riley asked the doctor, “I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything about the DNA test?”

  Brenna stiffened. She’d forgotten all about that. She really had and she thought Riley had, too. If it was still on his mind, that meant—

  She moved away from his touch on her shoulder.

  The doctor said, “Be assured, my office will call you as soon as we have the results.”

  Brenna knew what the results would be, but apparently Riley still had doubts. The closeness she’d felt to him last night seemed to disappear in an instant. Holding Derek tightly, she avoided Riley’s gaze.

  Trust was always going to be an issue between them.

  Chapter Nine

  Riley looked like the proverbial bull in the china shop in the bridal department at McDougall’s a short time later. After Brenna passed Derek to him and gave her baby a kiss, she checked around for her client. Riley had offered to drop her off and then come pick her up. So when they’d arrived, she’d gone to the back dressing room and fed Derek.

  Riley glanced around at the gowns and the veils and the jewelry and the white satin shoes. He asked, “So your store looks something like this?”

  “Something like this. I have a silver-and-blue theme, damask instead of cut velvet wing chairs, and more modern displays. But I do have bridal gowns all around...and lots of feminine things.”

  “Do any men ever come into your shop?”

  She laughed. “Sure. Some women actually want their husbands-to-be to help pick out their gown. Tradition isn’t what it used to be.”

  “Tradition is important,” Riley said. “But I guess it can change. Families are different than they used to be.”

  “Yes, they are.”

  Theirs would be if she was on the East Coast and he was here, but somehow they would be a family all the same.

  A woman walked into the bridal salon in a chic pale blue suit with a sapphire necklace around her neck that Brenna knew could easily cost as much as one of her gowns.

  Brenna rubbed her hand gently over Derek’s head and said to Riley, “That’s my client. I’ll call you when I’m through.”

  As she moved toward Claudia Winslow, she was surprised Riley didn’t leave immediately. His presence was a distraction. Riley had always been a major diversion. But she had to focus on Claudia and what she wanted.

  Brenna crossed to her and shook her hand. Then she escorted her toward a Queen Anne table where she’d laid out her sketches. Claudia followed her and sat in front of the desk while Brenna sat behind it.

  “I did have a great lunch at the Shamrock Grill,” she admitted. “Not my usual type of restaurant, but the food was good.”

  “Great. I’m glad you liked it.”

  “So these are the sketches?”

  “Yes. I’ll let you study the three one by one and you can tell me what you think.”

  “But you will be back in New York for the fitting.”

  “You’re planning a February wedding. We’ll do the fitting some time in December. Yes, I’ll be back there then.”

  She had to be back there. She had a business to run and a life to build for her and Derek.

  Riley had been standing close enough to overhear. He gave her one last look and a nod, and then he strode out of the bridal department. Brenna had no idea what he was thinking.

  An hour and a half later she still didn’t know what he was thinking when he picked her up. She told him he could just pull up out front and she’d hop in the car. When she did, she noticed Derek was awake in his car seat making his little baby sounds.

  Buckling in herself, she glanced at Riley as he pulled away from the department store. “What did you guys do?”

  “We took a walk. I showed Derek all the changes I’d be making to the landscaping. He approved. How did it go with your client?”

  “She was pleased with the designs, but when we talked about fabric and beading and stitching and what type of veil she wanted, the meeting got involved.”

  “Do they usually?”

  “Oh, yes. Women want that bridal gown to make them feel like the most beautiful woman on earth. They want their husband-to-be’s eyes to pop out of his head so he’ll fall down on his knees and propose all over again.”

  “They put too many expectations on one day,” Riley grumbled.

  “Maybe. But hopes and dreams are like that, and hard to give up, no matter what the age.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t ask, but was this your client’s first marriage? Do you even know?”

  “Of course, I know. Bridal consultants are sort of like bartenders. Our clients tell us everything, and yes it is her first marriage so she wants the day to be perfect.”

  “Of course,” he said a bit sarcastically.

  She knew what Riley thought of marriag
e, what he’d been taught about marriage. The ironic thing was his sister and brothers had obviously not felt the same way because they had married. But everyone reacted differently to what happened in a family. She just wished...

  What did she wish? That Riley would consider marriage? She could positively not be thinking that, because if she was thinking that—

  She was falling for him all over again. That couldn’t happen.

  But as she snuck another peek at Riley, as she thought about what they’d shared as teenagers and their physical compatibility again the night of the reunion, she felt that old languorous heat creep through her.

  No! She couldn’t let chemistry fog her brain.

  Silence pervaded the SUV during the rest of the drive and Derek was asleep by the time they reached the house. Riley carried him inside and laid him in the crib in her bedroom. The thoughts Brenna had been having in the car still nagged, so she began gathering Derek’s laundry and some of her own to distract herself.

  Coming into the living room, she asked Riley, “Do you need anything washed?”

  He shot her an odd look. What was it about alpha males that made communication so difficult sometimes?

  “I have a few T-shirts you can toss in, but you really don’t have to.”

  “It’s a load of laundry, Riley. It’s no bother. I’m just being practical.”

  It was as if her word practical triggered something not so practical in Riley. He came toward her, almost like a panther stalking its prey.

  “Practical? Since when are we being practical? We’ve always been wildly attracted to each other, and the practical thing would have been to act on that. But our families kept us apart. Your dreams and independence kept us apart. My lack of goals and motivation kept us apart. A feud we didn’t start kept us apart. The night of the reunion, we were anything but practical. So maybe, we shouldn’t be so practical now.”

  “Riley—” She held out the flat of her hand as if she could stop him, as if she could stop herself. But he was right there in front of her, all six-foot-two of him and he was looking at her as if he wanted to gobble her up. Maybe she was looking at him the same way, but that definitely wouldn’t be practical.

  “We can’t mess this up, Riley, you know that. We have to be parents.”

  “I don’t want to mess up anything. But this heat between us is driving me crazy. Tell me you turn in at night and don’t think about what it would be like if we were together in my bed. Tell me you don’t think about me kissing you in places where no other man has kissed you. Tell me that climaxing in my arms isn’t exactly what you want.”

  His raw honesty had her trembling, was making her knees weak, was creating pictures she’d tried to banish.

  “Tell me what you want, Brenna, because I’m sure it’s anything but practical.”

  Her voice was shaky but she stated her heart’s desire anyway. “I want you to kiss me, but I’m afraid—”

  He didn’t let her finish. He kissed her and she forgot about everything except the passion in Riley that had always captivated her so. He’d been defiance and rebellion and hungry desire that had wrested her away from the good girl she’d been, that had wrested her away from the compliant daughter she thought she should be. Now all of the old passion returned running headlong into new desire.

  Any idea of being practical fled in the onslaught of Riley’s kiss. The feel of his lips on hers, his tongue exploring her mouth, chased away any good sense she might have. His hand slid down her back and suddenly she was tight against him, feeling muscles...and his full arousal. She couldn’t help but lace her fingers in his hair. When she did, his tongue thrust into her mouth deeper, demanding a fuller response.

  Fire seemed to lick at her, starting in her belly, sparking in every nerve, creating such heat she believed she and Riley could go up in flames. He tasted of coffee and Riley, and she remembered how much she’d always enjoyed kissing him, more than enjoyed kissing him. The feel of his arms around her, the press of his body against hers made her need in a primitive way.

  Riley’s challenging desire suddenly changed into hungry passion. It overtook her. She forgot about breathing and thinking and only wanted to feel. The sofa wasn’t very far away. Riley walked her backward as if he sensed where it was and sensed where they needed to be. They landed on it together, still in each other’s arms.

  Riley’s kisses changed from over-the-top hungry to downright seductive. He broke away to kiss her neck, to suck her earlobe into his mouth. Before she could appreciate one sensation, there was another until his hand was under her top, until his thumb pressed across her nipple in her bra, until she knew they were going too far.

  How far was too far? Too far was being in Riley’s bed again. Too far was letting her emotions drown in physical passion. Too far was falling in love with him all over again.

  Although it was the last thing she wanted to do, she pushed away from him. She took in a deep lungful of air, tried to order her thoughts, tried to find herself in what the two of them became when they were together. Something about Riley had always reached too far inside of her, had always led her to feel too deeply, had always led her to dream about happily-ever-after. If she let him make love to her, how would they ever find a balance again? What would they do if their families still tore them apart? What would happen to Derek?

  Oh no, she didn’t want to be practical. But she also didn’t want her heart broken. She didn’t want anything to get in the way of Riley being a father to his son. She didn’t want the two of them to end up bitter and resentful and disappointed.

  He took one look at her and shook his head. “Damn it, Brenna, why can’t you just let go?”

  “Let go? Of what? Of myself, or a life that means something to me? Of my ability to mother Derek? Of my ability to keep some perspective? No, I can’t let go, Riley. There’s too much at stake. Your relationship with Derek is at stake. Can’t you see that?”

  He ran his hand down over his face, resting his elbows on his knees, and then glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Dawson called while you were gone and asked if I wanted to play basketball with him and Noah and Clay. It would probably be a good idea for me to leave for a while. Are you okay with that?”

  After considering a moment, realizing as he did they each needed a little space, she said, “I’m fine with that.”

  “If you were counting on me to help with Derek—”

  “I don’t want to depend on you, Riley. I’ll be fine.” She knew she would be. She knew she had to be.

  Because when she returned to New York, she would be a single mother, and Riley would still be in Miners Bluff, a single dad.

  * * *

  Early that evening Riley launched a hook shot that clipped the rim of the basketball net and bounced to the ground. He didn’t react on purpose. Noah, Dawson and Clay were watching him as if they expected him to erupt or to spill the beans about what was happening at his house with Brenna.

  Okay, so maybe he was just being paranoid.

  But when Noah joked, “Off your game tonight, O’Rourke?” and he felt like slugging the chief of police, he realized their silent scrutiny was getting to him. Maybe he should have just called Patrick and Sean and gone to the Tin Pan Tavern to have a drink with his brothers.

  Dawson handed him a water bottle and Clay went after the rolling ball that was headed down Dawson’s driveway. He jogged back with it and tossed it through the hoop easily. “That’s how it’s done,” he said with a grin.

  “You’ve got the perfect shot and the perfect life,” Riley jabbed.

  They all studied him.

  “What?” he muttered.

  “You’re not yourself,” Dawson said with a shake of his head. “If you tell us why you think Clay has the perfect life, maybe then we’ll know what’s going on with you.”

  Rile
y sighed, unscrewed the water bottle, and shook his head. “Mikala’s getting to you. She’s teaching you too well how to communicate.”

  “You make it sound like communicating isn’t a good thing.”

  Noah’s penetrating, knowing look irritated Riley even more. He took three long swallows of his water and then scowled at them all. “Do you think it’s easy living under the same roof with someone you’re...you’re...attracted to?”

  They all exchanged looks as if they weren’t sure where to go from there. Clay ventured into the uncharted territory. “I imagine that could be highly frustrating.”

  “Damn straight, it’s frustrating,” Riley admitted. “The problem is, our families hate each other. Brenna and I live a country apart and neither of us want to mess up Derek’s life.”

  “Have you talked about what you’re going to do after Brenna leaves?” Noah asked with the directness of a cop.

  “Some. But whenever I mention the word custody, she withdraws. She doesn’t want to be separated from Derek and I can understand that. She wouldn’t be a good mother if she did. And she is an excellent mother. A baby really needs to be with his mother. But that could shut me out for weeks at a time. I’ll miss everything that’s happening to him. Yet if I insist on joint custody and taking him say a month at a time, what will that do to him? What would that do to us?”

  “Is there an ‘us’?” Dawson asked.

  Riley knew there was a reason why he didn’t want to bring this up. He knew there was a very good reason why he should have kept his mouth shut. “I don’t know if there’s an ‘us,’” he admitted, the water spurting out of his bottle with his hand movement.

  “From the way you’re acting, there’s an ‘us,’” Noah offered blandly.

  Riley just glared at him, yet he knew Noah was right. If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t be this riled up.

  “Brenna has a name brand and a business and a store in New York. It’s not so easy to move her life,” Dawson commented.

  “Do you think it’s easy to move mine? Clay and I are partners. I like what I do.”