by Gina Wilkins
Kim rolled her eyes. “Give it up, Super Zach. No one’s accusing you of being a mere mortal.”
Tom was looking at the man who’d followed his mother into the room. He nodded a bit stiffly. “Hello, Steve.”
“Tom.” Steve’s greeting was only slightly more affable. “I hear you and your friend are quite the heroes.”
“We only did what we’re trained to do,” Tom replied, suddenly self-conscious in a way he hadn’t been before. He nodded toward Zach. “Zach McCain, this is Steve Pendleton. Kenny’s uncle.”
He’d be damned, he thought, if he would add that the guy was also his mother’s new boyfriend. Zach could figure that out for himself.
Nina was already back at Tom’s side, smoothing his hair, running tender fingertips over his injured cheek. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
Tom knew exactly how to distract her from her maternal flutterings. “Here,” he said. “Hold your grandson.”
Nina melted. “Come here, Kenny,” she crooned, gathering the willing baby close and snuggling against his cheek. “What a beautiful little boy you are.”
“Nina, you and Steve must stay and have lunch with us,” Leslie said. “It’s only stew, but there’s plenty.”
Kim hurried back to the kitchen for dishes and flatware. Nina needed no further persuasion to stay awhile longer.
Kim and Zach didn’t linger long after lunch. Kim left in her car. Tom and Zach stood by Zach’s truck, with the boat trailer still hooked to the back, and watched her drive away. And then Zach opened the driver’s door.
“Maybe next fishing trip, we’ll actually get to put the boat in the water,” he said before he climbed behind the wheel.
Tom smiled wryly. “I don’t know. You and I seem to get into trouble without even trying.”
“Quite a team, aren’t we?”
“Always have been,” Tom answered simply.
Zach nodded, unspoken messages sent and received, no further elaboration necessary in either of their opinions.
Zach had just started his truck, when he suddenly rolled down the window and leaned out. “Hey, Tom.”
Tom had already turned toward the house. He looked over his shoulder. “Yeah?”
“What’s going on with your mom and the pretty boy?” Zach asked with typical disregard for tact and diplomacy.
Scowling, Tom muttered, “I’m afraid to ask.”
Zach laughed. “Hey, I think it’s great. She’s all starry-eyed and he is definitely moonstruck.”
Starry-eyed and moonstruck. The words didn’t do a thing to erase Tom’s frown. He muttered something incoherent and pointedly turned his back on Zach, who was grinning like an idiot, in Tom’s opinion.
As he limped back to the house, his entire body aching, Tom reflected that it was nice to be back on a comfortable basis with Zach. Had he known that Zach had blamed himself all this time for the accident, or that Zach had felt guilty that it was Tom who’d been most seriously injured, he’d have set him straight long ago. But he supposed he’d had to work through his own problems before he’d been up to tackling anyone else’s.
Everything was so easy between guys, he mused. A few words, a couple of insults, maybe a punch or two, and problems were solved. He reached for the front doorknob, thinking of the two women who waited inside for him. His mother and his wife. His relationships with both of them were definitely complex at the moment, and he doubted that punching either one of them in the arm would settle things with them.
The muscle relaxers he’d been given were wearing off fast. He felt as though a mule had kicked him squarely in the back and then stomped on his leg for good measure. The little girl hadn’t been all that heavy, though Tom knew he’d strained his back when he’d swung her off the floor and over his shoulder. He suspected he’d done the most damage when he’d half dragged the children’s stout mother out of the house, with her resisting him every step of the way.
Tom entered his living room to find his mother and Steve sitting on the couch. Steve had his arm around Nina’s shoulder, and his mouth a half inch from her left ear. Leslie was nowhere to be seen.
Okay, so he couldn’t punch his mother, not even in fun. But that didn’t apply to Steve Pendleton—and if Tom punched him, it would not be in fun.
Chapter Fifteen
Nina scooted away from Steve, her cheeks flushing. “Um, Leslie’s changing the baby,” she said hastily.
Tom nodded and moved to sit down in one of the recliners, making a massive effort to downplay his pronounced limp and general stiffness. It was with relief that he sank onto the soft cushions and extended the footrest, taking some of the strain off his leg.
Steve drew a deep breath, then spoke quickly. “Tom, I think you should know that I’ve asked your mother to marry me. I want her to move to Little Rock and live with me. I make enough to support us both comfortably, and I’ve reached a point in my career where I can take time off to be with her. Travel with her. Have fun with her.”
Nina gave a squeak of protest and turned to stare at the man beside her with huge, panicked eyes. “Steve!”
He looked steadily back at her. “You’re the one who was so worried about your son’s reaction. This is the only way I know to find out what that is.”
“You shouldn’t have just blurted it out like that without warning me,” she scolded. “I haven’t even given you an answer yet, and here you are—”
“I didn’t see any reason to dance around and pretend I haven’t brought it up,” Steve cut in to argue. “We—”
Tom cleared his throat. Loudly. He’d been sitting motionlessly since Steve had spoken, trying to examine his feelings, trying to decide what to say. And then he’d looked at his mother’s face and realized there was only one response he could give.
Steve and Nina fell silent and turned to him, waiting for him to speak, Steve’s expression rather belligerent, Nina’s somewhat pleading. As if he were a crime-family “godfather,” with the power to bless or forbid their union, Tom thought in mingled exasperation and dark amusement.
“Mom,” he said, “this decision is entirely up to you. I didn’t ask your permission before I married Leslie. You don’t have to ask mine if you want to marry Steve.”
Nina wrung her hands in her lap. “Obviously, your opinion matters to me. As for making a decision, it’s entirely too soon for anything like that...as I told Steve this morning when he brought it up,” she added with a frown. “We’ve known each other only two weeks. There’s the age difference between us, and I’d have to do something about my business and move to Little Rock. I don’t know if I—” Her voice faded, her expression grew troubled.
“None of that is really important, is it?” Tom asked with a faint, crooked smile. “So what if you’ve known each other only two weeks? Leslie and I were married two days after she came back to town. How long does it take for you to know whether something’s right for you or not?”
He watched as Nina and Steve exchanged a meaningful glance, as if Tom had unwittingly repeated something one of them had said earlier.
He went on. “As for the slight age difference, that’s completely between the two of you. If it doesn’t bother either of you—and frankly, I can’t imagine why it would—then don’t worry about what anyone else will think. Selling your business? Moving to Little Rock? Again, it’s up to you. You’ve got a lot of years invested in that shop, but maybe it’s time for you to take some time off. Relax a little. Enjoy yourself. You worked so hard to raise me. Well, I’m raised now, and on my own. It’s time for you to take care of yourself.”
“It really doesn’t bother you?” Nina asked, searching his face with eyes that saw him more clearly than anyone else ever had.
He grimaced. “It’ll take some adjusting,” he admitted. “I’m pretty spoiled to being the most important man in your life. But what really matters is what you want to do. Do you love this guy, Mom?”
Nina looked slowly from Tom to Steve. Her green eyes were luminous with tear
s that Tom sincerely hoped would remain unshed.
“Yes,” she said. “I do. It just feels...right.”
With hardly a pang, Tom smiled. “Then follow your heart,” he told her.
He glanced at Steve, who was looking back at him with quizzical approval. “Of course, if you hurt her,” Tom said pleasantly, “I’ll have to kill you.”
“Tom!” Nina protested with a scandalized laugh. “Steve doesn’t know you well enough yet to realize that you’re joking.”
“That’s okay, Nina. I took it the way it was intended.”
Which meant, Tom interpreted from the rueful look in the other man’s eyes, that Steve knew Tom had not been joking. Tom was satisfied that Steve was getting to know him well enough.
Leslie cleared her throat. Tom didn’t know how long she’d been standing in the doorway, holding a sleepy-looking Kenny in her arms. “Does this mean,” she asked, “that we’ll be having another wedding soon?”
“Not too soon,” Nina answered cautiously. “I don’t want to rush into this. I’ll have to decide what to do about my shop and my apartment, and I have a dozen other decisions to make before we actually set a date or commit to solid plans or anything.”
Steve put his arm around Nina again and said, “Yes, Leslie. There will be another wedding soon. Very soon.”
Nina rolled her eyes, but Tom suspected that she wouldn’t resist very long on this issue. Steve didn’t seem to be the patient type, and he would probably have little trouble convincing Nina that there was no need to waste time. They certainly hadn’t wasted any time so far, he thought with a mental wince, suspecting that he knew exactly where Steve had spent the night.
Leslie kissed Nina, then turned to Steve, her expression more guarded. “I hope you’ll be very happy,” she said to him.
Standing in front of her, looking down at her and his nephew, Steve nodded slowly. “I guess this means we’re going to be part of the same family again. Quite a coincidence, hmm?”
Leslie nodded.
Steve smiled. “This time we’ll make sure it’s a happier family, shall we?”
She returned the smile. “Sounds good to me.”
Steve leaned over to kiss her cheek. “Thank you,” he murmured to her. “For being such a good friend to Crystal, and such a loving mother to her son. And for giving me another chance.”
Kenny knuckled his eyes and blew a noisy raspberry, breaking the emotional intensity of the moment.
The adults laughed, Tom with some relief. He didn’t want to be ungracious, but he was ready for his guests to leave. He wanted to take a pill and lie down: He was even to the point where he would welcome a bit of pampering from his wife.
This hero business could be exhausting at times.
As if they’d read his thoughts, Nina and Steve left almost immediately. They refused to allow Tom to get up to see them off. He didn’t argue.
His mother kissed him as she passed. “I love you, Tommy.”
“Love you, too, Mom. Be happy.”
“I’ve been happy since I was blessed with you,” she returned mistily.
He only smiled and waved her gently away.
Leslie put the baby to bed for his nap and then stood for several long moments just looking down at him as he settled in to sleep. He was hers now, she thought with a sigh of relief. Steve had made it clear that he would cause her no further problems. Once the adoption was final—and she foresaw no problems on that count—no one could take this baby away from her again. He would belong to her...
And to Tom.
If Tom’s name was included on the adoption papers, as he’d requested, he would be Kenny’s father, as legally and as bindingly as Leslie would be the baby’s mother. Leslie had been resistant at first to sharing the child she’d fought so hard to keep to herself. But she’d had time to get used to the idea now, and she knew she could have chosen no better father for this child than Tom Lowery.
Kenny would have a mother, a father, a loving grandmother. An uncle. Everything Crystal had wanted for the baby for whom she’d given her life. Leslie could almost feel Crystal’s approval in the air around her. She hugged the sensation to herself, refusing to write it off as a silly fancy.
She found herself wondering suddenly, unexpectedly, if Kenny would ever have a brother or a sister.
The question staggered her. She hadn’t allowed herself to think that far ahead before. The move here, her impulsive proposal to Tom, the wedding, even her impetuous decision to take the first step toward his bed—those had been choices made on the spur-of-the-moment, prompted by necessity. Now there was no more urgency, no outside threat compelling them to stay together. And yet she was thinking permanence. Without having any idea of how Tom felt about it.
She’d been in love with Tom Lowery for so long that she could hardly remember not loving him. And she’d been terrified of her feelings for him for just as long. So many people she’d loved had hurt her in her past. So many promises made to her had been broken. It wasn’t easy for her to trust a man to keep his word.
And yet, she trusted Tom. She wouldn’t have married him, wouldn’t have brought Kenny to him, if she hadn’t trusted him. She simply hadn’t acknowledged that blind faith in him until now.
She’d once lived in fear that something would happen to Tom. That she would lose him, if not to abandonment, to cruel fate. That his reckless nature and inherent inclination to help others no matter what the personal cost would take him from her. She’d worried that losing him would mean losing a part of herself, and she’d thought herself unwilling to take that risk. So she’d run...only to learn that there was no place far enough away to escape her memories of him. Her love for him.
She could have lost him today. There was no use in being angry with him for taking the risks he’d taken; given the same circumstances, she had no doubt that he would do exactly the same thing again. He could no more walk away from someone in trouble than he could stop breathing. That was the man she’d fallen in love with from the beginning. The man she’d returned to.
She’d lulled herself into a false sense of security for a couple of weeks, thinking his injuries would keep him safe. Now she knew that nothing had really changed. Whether he realized it yet or not—and she suspected that, after this morning, he did—he was still the same man he’d always been. He would find a way to accomplish whatever he felt the need to do. And Leslie would have to find a way to deal with it, just like Kim and Sami and the other spouses of firefighters and police officers and race-car drivers and all the others who regularly put themselves into danger just because they knew no other way to live.
She was taking a huge emotional leap. She didn’t want to take it alone. She needed to know that Tom was willing to jump with her. He’d let her walk away before. She had to know that he cared enough now to ask her to stay.
Deciding that there was no time like the present to force a confrontation—and hoping to capitalize on the warmth and sweetness she had seen in Tom when he’d reassured his mother—she headed for the living room, galvanized into action.
She stopped in the doorway, her resolve melting. Tom lay back in the recliner, his eyes closed, his face pale. Lines of pain were carved around his mouth, and one hand clenched his right leg as if to massage away the ache there.
Her husband, the battered hero. He’d dealt with enough for one day, she decided. Their personal problems could wait.
She walked quietly into the room and smoothed a hand over his tousled, sandy hair. “I’ll get your pain pills. Would you like water or iced tea to wash them down?”
He opened his eyes, a hint of chagrin in their bright-green depths. “I’m fine,” he assured her automatically.
“I know you are. But it wouldn’t hurt you to take a pill and rest awhile, would it?”
He sighed. “No. I guess it wouldn’t hurt. And iced tea sounds good.”
Without stopping to think about it, she leaned over to brush a kiss across his mouth. “I’ll be right back,” she
murmured.
He caught her hand when she would have moved away. “Les?”
“Yes?”
He seemed to search for words. “I’m glad you’re here,” was all he finally said.
Her eyes stung. “So am I, Goose,” she whispered, trying to keep her tone light for his sake. And then she turned and hurried away for the pills and iced tea, before she blew the moment by bursting into tears.
During the next week, Leslie discovered that pinning Tom Lowery down to a serious conversation was like trying to rope a tornado. Every time she thought she had him cornered, he whirled off to another subject.
They stayed busy during those days. The telephone rang constantly, friends who’d heard about Tom and Zach’s rescue and wanted first to know if he was all right and then to congratulate him. Invitations poured in for dinner parties and impromptu social gatherings, all of Tom’s acquaintances wanting to see him with his wife and new son.
Leslie and Tom met with Leo Weiss about starting adoption proceedings and then to talk about Leslie’s new duties working for Leo’s firm. If Tom had any particular feelings about Leslie’s returning to work, he didn’t share them.
He was very much the same Tom he’d been before, hiding now behind a steady stream of jokes and wisecracks rather than the surly self-pity he’d displayed when she’d first returned. And while she supposed that was an improvement for him, it didn’t tell her any more about his feelings for her.
And she was getting more impatient with each passing day to know the truth.
Only in bed did she feel close to him. When he reached for her, there was genuine hunger in his eyes. Undeniable need in his kisses. A wealth of tenderness and warmth in his lovemaking.
They weren’t enough. Hadn’t been enough to keep her here before. Weren’t enough now.
She needed more.
She just didn’t know if Tom was capable of giving more. If he even felt more than desire.
