Hagarty snapped to attention, and Thibodeaux dismissed him with a jerk of his head.
Rich didn’t know what to do. Should he go home, or stay just to show Hagarty that he was no wimp? Then Rich considered the source. Hagarty was one of the weakest links on the team. One of the guys that still hadn’t learned there was more to the job than posturing and swagger. He didn’t have to impress that jerk, Rich decided.
“At least, I got something to go home to,” Rich said. He pivoted and strode out of the packing shed. He nodded to the captain. “Later,” he said.
As he climbed into the truck and started the engine, the irony of the situation struck him. Sure, he had someone to go home to tonight, but then what? Tomorrow, Rebecca would come and take the kids away.
It might have taken most of the week for him to get up to speed, but now that he had, he was going to miss those kids. He checked behind him and backed out of the lot. Hell, he was going to miss their baby-sitter, too.
Of course, Jennifer was still around town. Maybe they could continue to see each other.
Rich hadn’t dated much in his ten-year military career. He liked women, but every time he started to get close, he’d find some reason to end it. Even dead, Rick Larsen still screwed up his life. But this time, maybe it would take.
Jennifer Bishop was worth fighting for.
“DARN IT. STILL DAMP.” Jennifer fingered the front of her dress and tried to gauge the length of time it would take to dry.
More time than she could afford.
It was almost five. Rich could come in at any minute, and the last thing she wanted was for him to find her wearing little else but his blue dress shirt.
She looked at the dark, damp areas on her dress and shrugged. Her only choice was to iron it. She sighed and went to get the ironing board.
Caitlyn was watching television, and Carter was happily gumming on one of the frozen teething rings. He appeared to be cutting the mate to the lower incisor and the cold ring was apparently soothing. Anything that kept him happy was fine with her. She glanced at Caitlyn again. She just hoped the little girl hadn’t established a habit her mother would object to. Jennifer had no idea what kind or how much television her mother would endorse.
At least, Reading Rainbow was educational.
Jennifer started to work. She concentrated so hard that Rich had stepped through the door before the sound of his key in the lock registered.
She gasped and nearly dropped the iron.
“What are you doing here?”
Rich looked at her as if she had two heads. “I live here.” Then he looked at her as if she were a canteen full of water, and he’d been stranded in the Mojave Desert.
“I borrowed your shirt,” she said lamely. “I needed to iron my dress. I hope you don’t mind.”
He’d rather see her out of the shirt, Rich couldn’t help thinking, but he understood how Jennifer might be uncomfortable wearing that slept-in dress. “No problem.”
“I didn’t expect you home this early. Usually the guys hang around the shop and…socialize.” She looked down and seemed to be concentrating on ironing far more than Rich thought necessary.
“Socialize is not exactly the way I’d describe it,” he said, his tone dry. He shrugged. “I can take or leave a free beer. Even though Senior Master Sergeant Mullins made Chief, I had a reason to come home, so I left it. I’ll buy Tank a six-pack next week.” Rich peeled out of the heavy BDU shirt and hung it over a chair.
Jennifer looked up, her eyes bright. “Tank Mullins was always nice to me,” she said. “When everything was falling to pieces with Duke, Tank and his wife, Dottie, did everything they could to make it easier. Too bad Duke didn’t cooperate. I’m glad Tank got the promotion. Maybe I’ll send him a card.”
“I bet he’d like that.” Rich could not believe that he was making polite conversation when the object of his desire was standing there wearing only his shirt.
She looked a damned sight better in it than he did. And the opening at the side seams of his shirt fell at just the right place to show off legs that would have made a Rockette proud. Rich chuckled. And to think the first time he saw her he’d thought she looked like a Sunday school teacher.
He’d learned otherwise last night.
Last night. That was something they’d have to talk about.
He could tell by the way she was looking everywhere but at him that last night was on her mind, too. He cleared his throat. “About last night…” he said.
She didn’t respond, but her slight intake of breath demonstrated that she had heard and understood. Did she think he was going to give her the brush-off?
“Look, I know we were sort of impulsive abou—”
She cut him off with an upraised hand. “Not in front of the k-i-d-s,” she said. “We’ll talk about it later.”
“Okay. When?”
“Geez, Rich. Do you think you could let me get dressed?” she said, her tone harried, exasperated.
He raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Sure. Anything you want.”
“Hey, kids,” he said with false joviality to disguise his disappointment at her reaction. “Did you have a good time with Jennifer today?”
Jennifer tried to ignore Rich and the kids. After all, he was on his best behavior today. Just because he’d skipped the beer bust and come right home didn’t mean that he’d do it every time. After all, he was responsible for his sister’s kids today. Tomorrow they’d be gone.
She smiled as she watched the way he teased Caitlyn’s attention away from the television set. And she almost laughed when he swung Carter up out of the playpen and raised him, giggling and squirming, high above his head.
Rich was a natural father.
Too bad he didn’t want to be one with her.
Where had that thought come from?
Jennifer tried to distract herself from that thought by using reason.
He had rushed home early because of the kids, not her, she reminded herself. And just the fact that he seemed to want to talk about last night sent a chill of dread shuddering through her. Was he going to reject her? Give her the old, thanks, but-no-thanks routine? She knew she’d been right about him.
Come next week when the kids were back with Rebecca he could go back to being one of the guys.
It was okay, she told herself. She didn’t need a guy like him anyway. She’d sworn off military men. She was looking for a nice, safe accountant. Remember?
She repeated the phrase, I don’t need him, I don’t need him, I don’t need him, over and over again like a mantra as she finished pressing the dress dry.
“Ouch!” Darn, she hadn’t been watching what she was doing, and she’d burned her finger. She stuck the wounded digit into her mouth to ease the hurt.
Rich looked over his shoulder at her. “That’s not the way to do it,” he said. “You need to run cold water on it. Or better yet, use ice.”
Jennifer rolled her eyes. “I know what to do, Rich. It isn’t a serious burn. I’ll live.”
“O-ka-ay,” he said and turned back to the children.
She could have predicted that. He just wanted to play hero by giving first aid. Didn’t he know that making silly conversation with two small children made him more of a hero to her than any other macho deed he could do?
The dress was finally dry except for the gathers at the dropped waist. Jennifer sighed. She couldn’t iron it forever. She had to take off Rich’s shirt and put her own dress back on. Then she had to go home.
She sighed again.
“You all right, Jennifer?”
“I’m fine. Just tired,” she lied. She turned off the iron and unplugged it. She waved the garment in the air as she walked to remove any heat left by the iron. Then she entered the room where everything had happened, closed the door and, with a teary sigh, she took off Rich’s shirt.
HOW LONG does it take for a woman to get dressed? Rich couldn’t help thinking as he bounced Carter on his knee and waited for
Jennifer.
He and Jennifer had something to settle. Something that, to Rich, couldn’t wait.
He had to make certain that she understood that last night had not been a one-night stand.
At least, not to him.
Rich stopped bouncing, but Carter didn’t. He moved his plump little body as if he wanted the ride to keep going. Rich obliged. He didn’t have anything else to do.
He couldn’t help laughing at the way Carter seemed to enjoy riding his knee. Kids were such simple creatures. Adults were so complex. When, during their development into adults, did everything get so complicated?
The door to Ski’s bedroom opened, and Jennifer came out, holding the blue shirt folded over her arm.
“I’ll take this home and launder it for you,” she said.
“Not necessary,” Rich protested. “It’s permanent press. I can handle it.”
“You shouldn’t have to. I wore it.” She looked down at it, scraped at a spot, then brushed the residue way. “Carter got strained peas on it.” She sighed, long and deep. “I’m tired. I don’t want to argue about it. I just want to go home.” She turned toward the door.
“Jennifer.”
She stopped.
“We still have to talk about last night.”
She seemed to sag, but she said nothing for a long moment. She sighed again, the shift of her shoulders demonstrating the depth of the sigh. “There’s nothing to say.”
Rich put Carter back into the playpen and reached for Jennifer. Though the baby started to whimper, he ignored him. “You may not have anything to say, but I do.”
She shrugged off his touch, but she still didn’t look at him. “All right,” she said slowly, resignedly. “In the kitchen.” She draped the shirt over a chair, then turned toward the children and announced. “Your Uncle Rich and I are going to get your supper started.” The tone was falsely bright, and Rich wondered what she expected from him.
“Come on,” she said. The set of her shoulders was determined, but she didn’t face him. He couldn’t help wondering why. Jennifer brushed past and hurried to the kitchen.
She was staring into the cupboards as if the kids’ supper menu was a monumental decision. She selected a can, put it on the counter, and reached for a pot in the dish drainer. She still hadn’t looked his way.
Tired of the cold shoulder, Rich stopped her before she could open the can. She reacted to his touch as if she’d been burned, but she finally stopped looking away. She turned to him, her eyes bright.
“About last night…” she said.
“Look, Jennifer. I’m cool about last night. Maybe we took it a little too far, too soon, but—”
She stopped him with a wave of her hand. “It’s all right, Rich. You don’t have to feel that you owe me anything. We’re both adults. I’m on the Pill. What happened happened. You’re off the hook. I know how you special tactics guys are. No commitment.” She shrugged. “I was married to one of you, remember? Been there, done that, got the heartbreak. I don’t need to go through it again.”
She turned back to the soup can.
“Damn it, Jennifer. Look at me,” he said harshly.
“No.” She kept her face averted. “I helped you out with your sister’s kids. It was just the situation. Nothing more. It’s over.” She brushed past him and into the living room.
“Jennifer. I am nothing like your ex,” he snapped.
“Aren’t you?” She grabbed the shirt off the back of the chair, snatched up her bag, then yanked open the front door. “I’ll wash your shirt and see that you get it back. I was glad to be able to help,” she said, her voice strained. “But it’s over. Don’t call me.” Then she stepped outside and closed the door firmly behind her.
Rich stood there wondering what had just happened, her logic was full of holes, but he hadn’t been able to come up with a decent rebuttal. The finality of her action shocked him. And maybe he was like her ex. He had lost his temper when she’d told him they were through.
He’d intended to tell Jennifer that even though the kids had brought them together, he still wanted to see her. How had it gone so wrong?
Sure, he wasn’t that experienced with women, but had he been so besotted that he’d confused compassion for love?
He didn’t think so.
He slammed his hand against the wall. Damn Duke Bishop for hurting her like that. Damn himself for not knowing what to do.
The sound of his fist hitting the plaster must have frightened the kids, for Carter wailed and even Caitlyn started to whimper. Rich shook his throbbing hand and tried to compose himself. For now, his biggest concern was caring for these children. Thank God, he hadn’t damaged the wall. The damage to his knuckles was bad enough.
He’d have plenty of time to work it out with Jennifer when things returned to normal.
Rich inhaled and let his breath out slowly. His hand hurt like hell, but not nearly as much as his heart. Maybe it was for the best. Hell, he’d just punched a wall because he hadn’t gotten his way. A wall!
What if it had been one of the kids?
God, maybe he really had inherited that violent streak from his father.
What was wrong with him that he couldn’t seem to have a normal life like everybody else?
He thought of the brother-in-law he’d never gotten the chance to meet. He thought of Sherry struggling to recover so she could take care of her kids.
Would his life ever be normal?
TEARS BURNED Jennifer’s eyes and blurred her vision, but she managed to hold them at bay until she made the short drive home. Saying goodbye to Rich was the hardest thing she’d ever done. But she’d had to.
She pulled in to the carport and sat in the car, engine idling, unable to make herself go inside. If she went inside, that would make the end final.
But she’d had to be the one to end it, and she’d been right to do it, she told herself. She’d fought so hard to rebuild her self-esteem and dignity after her disastrous marriage to Duke, and she couldn’t let another relationship with another man just like him destroy the rest of her self-respect.
She blinked at the tears. She wouldn’t cry. She would not cry. A man was a silly reason to weep.
She wouldn’t be an appendage again. She would not be there for the convenience of a man who had no respect for her wants and needs. She’d had that, didn’t like it, and didn’t want it again.
Jennifer turned off the engine, reached for Rich’s shirt on the back seat, and got out of the car.
It was over.
It had been nice playing house with Rich. It had been a silly dream pretending that he was the daddy and she was the mommy of those two great kids, but it was over. Reality was that she was a single woman who had to support herself.
She unlocked the door and stepped inside.
The house was dark and damp and stuffy and no childish voices called out to greet her. This was her reality.
She was a single woman, and she lived alone. The only living things that depended on her were a house full of potted plants. Some comfort they were.
Jennifer closed the door.
If she had done the right thing, why then did she feel so bad?
She drew in a deep breath.
Reality stinks.
RICH LOOKED around his empty apartment and wondered how he was going to stand the silence. Rebecca and her new husband had come for the kids. They’d been gone for only a few minutes, but the house already seemed too empty.
He’d become accustomed to Caitlyn’s constant chatter and silly television shows and Carter’s babbling. Hell, he’d even miss the diapers.
He looked around. The place seemed like a tomb that robbers had found, looted and deserted.
Rich shook his head. He had to stop this fool way of thinking. Ski would be back anytime now and the place would be jumping again.
The place would be loud with Ski’s music and…Rich laughed. Hell, it would be loud with Ski’s Hawaiian shirts. With Ski around, there was no way
he could ever be bored.
Funny, he thought as he searched for one sign that the kids had ever been there, that Jennifer had been there, just having some noise wasn’t the same as…
As what?
Having a family?
Rich shook his head. How did he expect to handle having a family? He had no experience in that. He’d never even been involved in a functional one unless he counted his short time with the Parkers. He admired Sherry so much for having the guts to try, but look at what happened to her.
She had gambled and lost. She had expected to spend the rest of her life with Mike, and just when everything had seemed perfect, Mike was gone, taken in the blink of an eye. How could she stand having everything and then losing it?
Somebody had said it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, but he disagreed, considering the way he felt right now. Then Rich reminded himself that Jennifer wasn’t gone forever like Mike.
She was just across town and fighting the same kind of demons as him. If he put his mind to it, he could win her back.
Yeah, he could win her. Hell, he was a special tactics combat controller. He could attack anything and come out victorious if he set his mind to it. Jennifer was just a small woman. He shouldn’t have any trouble winning her.
Of course, Jennifer Bishop wasn’t a hostile drop zone. This campaign was going to take special tactics, indeed.
Chapter Fourteen
Jennifer opened her birth control pill compact and started to press out her daily dose. She stopped and looked carefully at the semicircle of pills designated for the rest of the month. She looked again. It couldn’t be. How had she managed to skip three days?
She never missed a pill!
She always took one after supper while she watched the six o’clock news.
She shook her head. How, indeed?
With all the excitement in the last few days she had missed her regular routine. She had been late getting home on Wednesday because of Rich. On Thursday, she hadn’t come home at all. And last night she’d been so upset that she’d taken a long, soaking bath, then gone straight to bed. Not that she’d been able to sleep for reliving the—
Uncle Sarge Page 17
