Andrea, the youngest MacAllister, was married to John, and had her hands full with the busy twins. Her degree in landscape architecture made her an extremely valuable asset to the family firm and she was once again working on a part-time basis, preferring to spend the majority of her day with the babies.
Forrest MacAllister was married to Deedee’s dear friend, Jillian Jones-Jenkins, a highly successful author of many historical romance novels.
Deedee smiled as she looked at Jillian.
Jillian had that special, lovely glow about her, Deedee decided, that so’ many pregnant women had. She’d just started to wear maternity clothes, and Forrest had bought her the cute top she was wearing that said Baby Under Construction, which he’d proclaimed to be perfect for the wife of an architect.
Deedee’s smile faded as her gaze fell on Ryan MacAllister. He was the second son, born between Michael and Forrest. She didn’t know Ryan as well as the others, but she did know of the tragic loss of his wife more than a year and a half before. She’d met Sherry at the twins’ christening, then had attended her funeral when she’d been slain by a berserk gunman at the hospital where she’d worked.
Since then, Ryan seemed to keep Deedee, as well as his family, at arm’s length the majority of the time.
The family had been devastated by Sherry’s violent death, then stunned when Ryan immediately resigned from the police force.
At the time, Andrea and Jillian had told Deedee that everyone was extremely worried about Ryan. He’d closed himself into the apartment where he’d lived with Sherry, and refused to allow anyone entry. For the entire month following his wife’s death, he drank heavily, emerging only to buy food and more liquor.
At their wit’s end, Michael, Forrest and Ted Sharpe, Ryan’s former police partner, had gone to Ryan’s and threatened to break the door down if he didn’t let them in.
When Ryan finally opened the door, they discovered a Ryan who was alarmingly thin and haggard, with wild hair and a bushy beard. The apartment was a mess and reeked of alcohol. Ryan was angry at their intrusion and demanded to be left alone.
By brute force, he was thrown in the shower, told to put on fresh clothes, then hauled to a barbershop for a shave and haircut. The trio then took a fuming Ryan to a restaurant, ordered him a big meal and announced he wasn’t leaving until he’d consumed the food.
While he was away from his apartment with his self-appointed rescuers, the women of the family had swooped in to clean, polish, wash clothes and stock the refrigerator.
Ted Sharpe had then threatened to stay at Ryan’s, sleeping on the sofa, and not leave until Ryan came up with a plan of action, a concrete decision as to what he was going to do with his life.
More out of desperation to be left alone than desire, Ryan had started his own business, MacAllister Security Systems.
Andrea had recently told Deedee that Ryan’s company was growing, and he now had a secretary as well as two installers. What none of the family knew, Andrea had said with a sad-sounding sigh, was whether or not Ryan was pleased with his new endeavor, or if he was even close to finding an inner peace and had come to terms with Sherry’s death. The walls he’d erected around himself after Sherry died were solidly in place.
“These gifts are from Uncle Ted,” Andrea said to the twins. “He’s on duty today, but he wishes you both a happy, happy birthday.”
“Happy burffday,” Noel said, clapping her hands. She reached eagerly for one of the presents that Andrea held. “Mine.”
“Mine,” Matt said.
Andrea laughed and gave them the gifts. “They’re really getting with the program here. John, are you remembering to take pictures? I want a record of everything for the family album.”
“I’m not missing a thing,” John said, holding the camera to one eye. “There will be pages and pages in the album titled Twins Turning Two.”
The twins tore open the boxes from Ted and each pulled out a stuffed toy. Ted Sharpe had gotten them teddy bears dressed in police uniforms, one a girl teddy bear and one a boy. As the adults exclaimed over the cute toys, Deedee looked quickly at Ryan.
He was separate and apart from the others, having leaned one shoulder against a far wall and crossed his arms loosely over his chest.
As the teddy bears in the police garb appeared, a slight smile formed on his lips. He shifted his stance, and his eyes collided with hers.
Her breath caught as she saw him immediately change his expression to a closed, unreadable one, revealing nothing of what he was feeling.
She returned her attention to the giggling twins.
Ryan was an extremely handsome man, Deedee thought. He was thirty-six or thirty-seven, about six feet tall with thick brown hair and the MacAllister brown eyes. He was well built, with wide shoulders and nicely proportioned muscles. And according to Jillian, he now focused all his energies on MacAllister Security Systems.
But there was a cold aura to Ryan MacAllister, a hands-off, don’t-get-too-close attitude emanating from him with such intensity it was a nearly palpable entity. She had seen him conceal his emotions the moment their eyes met. He had perfected the ability to drop solid walls around himself at will.
Ryan MacAllister would certainly turn women’s heads when he entered a room, but Deedee had a sneaky suspicion that he wouldn’t care about, or even notice, the feminine attention he was receiving. It was as though, Andrea had once told Deedee, the funloving, warm, charming Ryan had died with Sherry.
The family was saddened as they realized that the Ryan who had emerged from the month-long solitude was there to stay—aloof, empty and existing on not only the fringes of the family, but of life, as well.
Deedee shook her head slightly to bring her back to the activities around her.
Concentrating so intently on Ryan had, she realized, caused a gloomy feeling to settle over her, created by painful thoughts from her own past. She’d laid her ghosts to rest many years ago, and she would not allow Ryan’s troubles to cause her dark memories to inch forward once again.
She needed to talk to him one-on-one, something she’d never done before. This party was an excellent opportunity to discuss with Ryan what was on her mind, but she now knew she’d have to be on emotional red alert. As coldhearted as it might sound, she’d have to make certain that Ryan’s problems remained just that—his.
“On behalf of Noel and Matt,” Andrea said, returning Deedee to the moment at hand, “I want to thank all of you for their lovely gifts.”
“And the wrapping paper,” John said, laughing as Matt shredded another piece. “Our son has a head for business. He’s making confetti to sell next New Year’s Eve.”
“Cake and ice cream time,” Andrea said. “Let’s tromp back into the dining room, then you can bring your dessert in here where it’s more comfortable.”
“Great,” Forrest said, rubbing his hands together. “We can play with the toys. These guys got some fascinating-looking stuff.”
“Remember to share, Forrest,” Jillian said, smiling at him. “There will be none of this ‘mine’ business from you. Let Noel and Matt have a turn.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, then dropped a quick kiss on her lips. “This is research, darling wife. You know how you have to do all that heavy-duty research for your books? Well, I have an assignment that will be part of my job description as a daddy. I have to be able to assemble and know how to play with a vast variety of toys.”
“Ah, I see,” Jillian said, nodding. “It’s tough work, but a daddy has to do it, I guess. Your selfsacrifice is duly noted.”
“One should hope,” he said.
“The writing is on the wall, Margaret,” Robert MacAllister said. “In the future when we buy a toy for Jillian and Forrest’s little one, we’ll have to get twoone for the baby, and one for Forrest.”
“Now that,” Forrest said, pointing one finger in the air, “is a fantastic idea.”
Everyone was laughing and talking as they went into the dining room. Ryan, Dee
dee noted, seemed to be chatting pleasantly with his mother. As each was served, they wandered back into the living room.
Ryan settled onto the padded bench edging the inside of a bay window at one end of the room.
Go for it, Deedee told herself. This was a perfect chance to speak with Ryan. She simply had to remember not to allow his reality to intrude on hers.
She crossed the room and smiled as she stopped in front of him.
“May I join you, Ryan?”
His head snapped up. “What? Oh, sure thing, Deedee. There’s plenty of space here.”
She sat down, then shifted so she could look directly at him.
“The twins were so cute with their presents,” she said. “I’ll be eager to see the pictures John took.”
Ryan nodded, then took a bite of cake.
Brother, Deedee thought crossly, he apparently doesn’t intend to even attempt to make conversation. If he smiled, his face would probably crack due to it being so long since he’d done it.
She sampled her own cake.
Patience, Deedee, she thought. Stay cheerful. She would not allow this grumpy, gloomy man to dim her party mood.
“This cake is delicious,” she said, then paused. “Ryan, do you mind talking business on a Sunday afternoon?”
He looked at her again and shrugged. “No.”
She’d never been this near to him before, Deedee mused. He really was extremely handsome. His features were rugged and masculine, and she could smell just the faintest hint of musky after-shave.
His eyes, though, were disturbing. All the MacAllisters had warm and expressive brown eyes, but Ryan’s were…flat—yes, that was the word—with no clue as to what he was thinking or feeling.
“Deedee?” he said, frowning slightly.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I was daydreaming for a minute. What I wanted to talk to you about was—”
“You have freckles,” Ryan said suddenly. “I never noticed that before. They’re dancing a jig right across your nose.”
Lord, MacAllister, he thought, where had that come from? What a stupid thing to open his mouth and say. What difference did it make if Deedee Hamilton had freckles on her pert little nose? It was just that it was rather refreshing that she hadn’t covered them with that makeup glop women used. She let them do the two-step on her nose for all the world to see.
Deedee blinked. “Well, yes, I have freckles on my nose. They’ve been there forever. In all the time you and I have known each other, I guess you’ve never been this close—” she laughed “—to my nose.”
A shaft of unexpected heat rocketed through Ryan’s body at the tinkling sound of Deedee’s laughter. As though seeing her for the first time, he quickly cataloged her big, brown eyes, her short hair that was a fetching mass of strawberry blond curls and her delicate features.
Deedee Hamilton, he mused, was very pretty. She wasn’t beautiful, or sophisticatedly stunning; she was pretty, in a wholesome, fresh-air-and-sunshine way. And he sure did like those cute freckles.
Why was he having this asinine conversation with himself? he wondered in self-disgust. He really didn’t give a rip if Deedee had a polka-dotted nose and laughter like windchimes and…Ah, hell, MacAllister, can it.
Ryan cleared his throat and set his plate next to him on the cushion.
“You wanted to discuss business?” he said, looking at Deedee again.
She continued to smile. “Have we thoroughly exhausted the subject of my nose?”
Ryan smiled.
He couldn’t help himself really, because Deedee’s laughter was infectious and her smile beckoned to be matched by another one. Her brown eyes—the biggest brown eyes he’d ever seen—were sparkling, actually sparkling. The entire package that was Deedee was extremely appealing.
So he smiled.
And Deedee stopped breathing.
Dear heaven, she thought, then told herself to draw some air into her lungs before she passed out on her freckled nose. Ryan MacAllister’s smile was a sight to behold. The stern set of his jaw relaxed, and the creases in his forehead smoothed, making him appear younger. His teeth were white and straight, and his lips were shaped so perfectly.
And those MacAllister brown eyes were now warm and inviting, like chocolate sauce a person would gladly drown in.
“You have a wonderful smile, Ryan,” she said, hearing the thread of breathlessness in her voice. “You should use it more often. It’s perfectly legal for me to express my opinion regarding your smile, since you commented on my freckled nose.”
Ryan chuckled and nodded. “Tit for tat. Now we’re even.”
Oh, not fair, Deedee thought. That throaty chuckle was without a doubt one of the sexiest, most masculine sounds she’d ever heard. Her cheeks felt warm. If she was blushing because she couldn’t ignore the purely feminine flutter in the pit of her stomach, she was going to die of embarrassment right there on the spot.
“You’re blushing,” Ryan said. “Did I miss something here?”
“No,” she said quickly. “I’m not blushing. Well, yes, I guess I am, but that doesn’t mean I have any legitimate reason to blush. Sometimes I just blush, which is very annoying, considering that I’m thirty-three years old, for crying out loud. Oh, good Lord, now I’m babbling.” She waved one hand in the air. “Ignore me.”
Ryan’s smile faded. “That would be difficult to do, Deedee.”
Their eyes met, and Deedee could hear the sudden increased tempo of her heart echoing in her ears.
Heat once again swept through Ryan’s body, coiling deep and low within him. He told himself to tear his gaze from Deedee’s, to stop looking at those remarkable brown eyes of hers, but he couldn’t move.
Damn it, he fumed, what kind of spell weaver was she? What was she doing to him? Well, he wasn’t interested—not in her, or any woman, for that matter.
“Attention, folks,” Forrest yelled. “I need your undivided attention, one and all.”
Deedee and Ryan jerked at the sudden intrusive noise of Forrest’s booming voice. They snapped their heads around to stare at Forrest standing in the middle of the room.
Bless you, Forrest, Deedee thought. Ryan MacAllister was a dangerous man. There was just something, a blatantly masculine and sensual something, about him that was compelling, nearly overpowering. She wanted no part of it, whatever it was. No.
“All right, here it is,” Forrest said, rubbing his hands together. “The topic is The Baby Bet.”
“Oh, good grief,” Jillian said, rolling her eyes heavenward.
“You’re a tad early,” Michael said. “Well, whatever. Okay, I bet that Jillian is going to have a baby. I win. Give me some money.”
“Cork it, Michael,” Forrest said. “This is serious business. I am, as all of you know, The Baby Bet champion. I won when Bobby was born and when the twins arrived. It’s only fair to warn you that I’ve since won The Baby Bet with the mailman, a couple I designed a house for, and one of Jillian’s author friends. Simply put, I can’t be beat.” He nodded decisively, a smug expression on his face.
“Margaret,” Robert MacAllister said, “where did we go wrong raising that one?”
“I have no idea,” she said, patting her husband’s knee. “He certainly is full of himself, isn’t he?”
Forrest glared at his parents. “I’m stating facts here, Mr. and Mrs. MacAllister. I am The Baby Bet champion.”
“Yes, dear,” his mother said. “I do believe the whole world knows that by now.”
“I should hope so,” Forrest said.
“It’s time to unchampion you,” Michael said. “Is that a word?”
Jillian laughed. “I don’t think so.”
“Okay, big shot,” John said. “What’s the deal?”
“I’m glad you asked,” Forrest said. “Now pay attention, people, because this one is going to be complicated.”
“Jillian,” Andrea said, “are you going to strangle him, or run him down with your car?”
“Could I have some re
spect here?” Forrest hollered.
“No!” John and Michael yelled in unison.
“No, no, no,” Noel said merrily.
“Hush, sweetheart,” Andrea said. “Your Uncle Forrest is slipping over the edge.”
“What a group,” Forrest said, shaking his head.
What a wonderful group, Deedee thought, laughing softly. Oh, how she adored this family. They were warm, loving, funny and fun.
Ryan slid a quick glance at Deedee.
Her eyes were sparkling again, he mused. She was enjoying the crazy antics of his family to the max. Deedee was a widow. Yeah, he remembered that now. Her husband had been killed many years ago, though he didn’t recall the details of how it had happened. She was alone and had adopted, per se, the MacAllisters as her family.
Why would a pretty, vivacious, refreshing woman like Deedee Hamilton still be alone? Ryan wondered. Oh, hell, what difference did it make? It was none of his business. He really didn’t care. But then again, it didn’t make sense. Why was Deedee still alone?
“If you’re done being dumb,” Forrest said, “I’ll explain the program. Jillian is having an ultrasound on Wednesday. Therefore, The Baby Bet is high-tech. It includes not only the questions of is it a boy or a girl? One? Twins? But also the stand that they won’t be able to tell the sex because the munchkin was modest and stayed curled up. Get it?”
“Ah-h-h,” Michael said, stroking his chin. “I like this one. It has pizzazz. Whip out your paper and pencil, Forrest. I’m ready.”
Forrest took a small pad of paper and a pen from his shirt pocket.
“Go for it, Michael,” he said, “and get ready to kiss your twenty bucks goodbye.”
“Says you,” Michael said. “Okay, here’s my prediction. Jillian is having twins. That’s a given, because she’s getting very fat, very fast.”
“Him I’ll strangle,” Jillian said.
“I’ll bet,” Michael said, staring at the ceiling, “a girl and an unknown. They won’t be able to tell the sex of the second one.”
“Got it,” Forrest said, writing on the pad.
Friends, Lovers...And Babies! (The Baby Bet #2) Page 2
