A Man to Hold on to (A Tallgrass Novel) (25 page)

He liked the wild-abandon look about her and told her so two hours later when they finally, reluctantly left the bed and dressed.

“Wild abandon,” she repeated, amusement dancing in her eyes. “I don’t think anyone’s ever called me wild before. Most people see”—she zipped her dress and gestured toward herself with a flourish—“a thirty-something mother, teacher, churchgoer, widow.”

“That’s okay. I’d rather they not see you this way.” He nodded toward the bed as he finished buttoning his shirt, then lifted the covers from the floor. By the time he turned again, she was wiggling into her heels and combing her fingers through her hair. She picked up her purse, slung the strap over her shoulder, and faced him. “Well, do we look presentable enough for our kids?”

He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her near, nuzzling her throat. “Mariah’s going to be asleep, Jacob wouldn’t notice if we walked in wearing each other’s clothes, and if Abby suspects anything, she’ll just roll her eyes and go, ‘Eww, that’s disgusting.’”

Therese laughed, rested her forehead against his for a moment, then pulled back. “Let’s face the lions.”

The clock outside Tallgrass National Bank showed it was 10:37. Probably the earliest end to a date since he was fifteen, but Therese hadn’t been comfortable about leaving the kids alone any later. Besides, there was always tomorrow…and the next day and the next ten thousand days.

The neighborhood was quiet when he turned onto Cheyenne Street. Since moving out of his mom’s house, Keegan had always lived in apartment complexes or barracks, where Saturday nights were rarely quiet. A peaceful family neighborhood was something he could get used to.

At the Matheson house, lights shone through the living room windows and from one bedroom upstairs. The television was on when they went inside, and Abby was curled at the end of the sofa, her head pillowed on the arm, while Mariah occupied the other two-thirds, snoring softly.

Looking up, Abby muted the television and straightened as they came into the room. “Wow. Four and a half hours. That’s a long time for dinner.”

Keegan was amused to see a faint blush color Therese’s cheeks, which she tried to hide by sitting in an armchair and bending to remove her shoes. “We took a walk, and we had dinner on the porch at Luca’s.”

Abby rolled her eyes. “It’s a restaurant. The idea is to eat and leave, not take up residence.” To Keegan, she added, “She and her margarita friends think one meal makes the table theirs for the rest of the night.”

“Well, good food and good company are meant to be savored.” He restrained a grin and went on to cover the sound of Therese’s choking cough. “Did Mariah behave?”

“Better for me than she does for you.”

“She likes you more than she does me.”

Something flitted through Abby’s eyes—surprise, maybe a little pleasure at the thought. Gazing at her, he saw that Therese had been right earlier: the girl needed affection. She tried hard to act like she didn’t care about anything, but she was thirteen. Caring too much defined thirteen-year-old girls. So did acting out.

She shrugged, and the emotion, whatever it was, disappeared. “She ate two pieces of pizza, a bunch of grapes, some yogurt, and four cookies.” A shudder rocketed through her. “Then, because she was wearing pizza, yogurt, and chocolate chips, I gave her a bath, and she fell asleep while her hair was still damp. That means you’ll have to wet it in the morning to make it behave. Not wash it. Just spray it a bit.”

He knew that. He hadn’t worn a high-and-tight forever. But since so many other things about Mariah were a mystery, he appreciated her telling him. Still, he couldn’t resist teasing her a bit. “Will the sprayer in the kitchen sink work?”

And there were the eye roll and the heaving sigh. “I figured you’d be clueless, so I put a spray bottle in her bag. What was your mother thinking? How could she trust you all on your own with a little girl?”

“Hey, I’m not totally clueless,” he said as she passed on her way out.

She turned back in the doorway, one hand on her hip, one brow arched. “You let her fall in the toilet and puke in the bathtub.”

From behind him came Therese’s soft voice. “She’s got you there, Keegan.”

“Yeah, well, that first morning with her wasn’t my best.”

“Neither was the night before,” Abby added helpfully.

He rubbed his jaw as they regarded him with similar expressions of amusement mixed with pity. “Yeah,” he said again. Even if he’d disagreed with them, he knew better than to argue with two females. “But I’m learning. Thanks, Abby.”

Once more, surprise flashed across her face. She moved as if to turn away, so he spoke again quickly. “You’re a sweetheart.”

This time she went still. Her mouth worked, but nothing came out. Then abruptly she turned and all but ran up the stairs. Seconds later came the click, not a slam, of her bedroom door.

Therese swore quietly and fluidly, words he hadn’t heard her say before. He stared at the stairs a moment longer, then went to sit on the footstool that matched her chair. “Hey. You kiss me with that mouth.”

Her hands covered her face. “No matter how much she tests me, I’m the grown-up here. I should have managed better. This is my failure.”

He pried one hand away, then the other. “It’s not a failure, Therese. She’s old enough to know that behaviors have consequence. And you both went through some tough times. Neither of you was quite ready to deal with each other.” And most importantly…“It’s nothing that can’t be undone. My mom has spent her entire life mothering kids, and she honestly believes there isn’t any problem that can’t be solved with enough love and affection and respect.”

And the respect went both ways. Therese deserved it for no other reason than taking in and keeping Abby, but Abby deserved it, too. Just as it was tough for Therese to keep trying when all she got for her efforts was rejection, it was hard for Abby to try at all when she knew the only person who would have her around did it out of obligation and responsibility and not because she actually wanted her.

Therese’s fingers curled tightly around his. “Your mom’s a good woman, and she’s raised a good son.”

“She would be the first to agree with you.” He stood and used his grip to pull her to her feet. “I’d better take the cookie monster and go.” But he didn’t let go of her right away. Without the heels, her head came about to his shoulder, and when he pulled her up snug against him, they touched in different places than he’d become accustomed to. Exploring those differences seemed a great way to spend an hour or two, but not with Mariah snoozing a few feet away.

“Don’t beat yourself up about Abby. Give both you and her another chance.” He meant the words seriously, for her sake, for Abby’s sake, but there was also something selfish underlying them. It was unfair for Mariah to meet her half sister, then lose her if Abby went to live elsewhere.

He kissed Therese, intending a quick, good-night-her-kids-were-upstairs kiss, but instantly his blood turned hot, and want and bone-deep need shot through him. If it hadn’t been for a thump somewhere above them, there was no telling where they would have stopped.

Though he would draw a line at sneaking into and out of her bedroom.

When he scooped up Mariah, her body was warm and limp, her hair flat on one side, the curls wiry and kinked on the other. She opened her eyes only for a moment, smiled sweetly at him, then snuggled close. Curling her hand around his shirt between two buttons, she sighed contentedly, and emotion swelled until he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t swallow.

“You’re lucky,” Therese murmured. “Not many men can pinpoint the exact moment they fell in love with their child.”

His glance was dazed, and his mouth opened to automatically protest, but it closed again. It was a major concept, something he’d been determined to avoid from the moment he’d gotten custody of Mariah. Hell, he’d avoided anything to do with her for a month because he didn’t want to care about her. He didn’t want to put himself on the hook for raising another man’s kid. He didn’t want to risk getting involved in case Sabrina changed her mind and came back to reclaim her.

But he was on the hook and he was involved and Sabrina coming back didn’t automatically mean he’d lose her. Not if he’d made a good home for her, provided her with family who loved her, given her stability.

Not if he loved her, too.

Therese was smiling at him, those dark eyes of hers smug, and he couldn’t think of anything to say. No admission, no denial, no dancing around the facts. He needed a little time to process things. He’d come to Tallgrass to get Mariah out of his life and into the family where she belonged. Instead, he’d found a family where they both belonged.

This trip wasn’t turning out at all the way he’d planned.

He was incredibly lucky for that.

When Therese arrived at Three Amigos Tuesday evening, Carly had already staked out a seat at the patio tables shoved together and sat with a margarita that hadn’t been touched and a travel magazine open in front of her.

“Ooh, honeymoon planning.” Therese slid into the chair beside her.

A full, lovely, in-love smile bloomed across Carly’s face. “A trip to celebrate our wedding, since we jumped ahead to the honeymoon part about an hour after the proposal.”

“What’s in the running?” Therese knew Carly loved the beach, but how comfortable would Dane, still adjusting to the fact that his leg was gone, feel about a tropical destination?

“No cruise. That was what Jeff and I did. We’re actually thinking about Italy. He was stationed there for a while, and he says I’d love it.”

“What’s not to love? The food, the wine, the history, the gorgeous men. Oh, wait, you’re taking your own gorgeous man with you.”

“It sounds incredible, doesn’t it? Though, frankly, I’d be happy renting a cabin at the lake. I’m getting Dane. Everything else is just icing on the wedding cake.” Carly closed the magazine, sat back, and narrowed her gaze. “You look different. I’ve always thought you seemed serene, even when you were simmering inside, but now you look really serene, both inside and out.”

Therese blushed, and Carly’s mouth and eyes both rounded. Even her voice took on a rounded tone. “Have you been getting down and dirty with Keegan?”

Pleasure spread through Therese, the way it had for three days now, sweet and warm, though sometimes it had a needy edge that made her feel desirable and feminine and alive again. “We’re doing our best. Do you know how hard it is to find privacy with three kids, one of whom can’t be left alone for five minutes?” Though they’d managed a few hours alone on Sunday afternoon while the kids went to a movie. And another dinner out Monday evening—fast food, then a few hours in bed—while Abby and Jacob watched Mariah.

“Hey, Dane and I are always available to babysit. Since we threw away the condoms the first night, it’d be practice for us.”

Momentarily distracted, Therese blinked. “You’re going to get pregnant right away?”

“We’re doing our part. Now, if God smiles on us…” Carly’s smile faded, her expression turning serious in a blink. “I waited with Jeff—for me to finish school, for us to settle into marriage, for his deployments to slack off. You waited with Paul while his kids adjusted to being here, while he was gone to Iraq and then to Afghanistan. Look where waiting got us.

“Every day with Dane is a gift, and every day with our kids will be, too. Oh, sure, I’ll be threatening to pack them off to Aunt Therese’s at least once a week, but…I’ll never get to hold Jeff’s babies, Therese. I damn well don’t intend to miss out on holding Dane’s.”

Therese gazed at the margarita, the heavy glass bearing a faint tinge of green, the drink itself vivid blue tonight. She’d missed the baby parts, she’d told Keegan with more than a little wistfulness. She had always thought she and Paul had plenty of time. When she’d kissed him good-bye the day of his departure for Afghanistan, she’d never dreamed it was already too late for her to have his baby.

She’d never dreamed he would die.

But she still had the chance to hold his babies. Maybe Abby and Jacob had long outgrown the cuddly phase, but they were Paul’s children, and even grown kids needed a cuddle now and then. And they’d both come around a little since their trip to visit Catherine. Jacob spoke more often than he grunted. Abby’s tantrums were smaller, her anger less palpable. She was really good with Mariah, and she’d lost most of her disdain for Keegan and even some of it for Therese. It might be temporary, but Therese would take what she could get.

Just like this thing with Keegan might be temporary.

That possibility squeezed around her heart, making her grateful for new arrivals to distract her. Lucy and Marti sat across from them, and a moment later Ilena joined them. “Okay, guys, I officially cannot see my feet anymore.”

“Another couple pounds, and your tiny little feet will be officially unable to support you,” Marti teased.

Lucy made a face. “At least she has an excuse and it’s temporary. Another couple pounds, and I will be officially as big as a house.” She helped herself to a chip with a big scoop of salsa.

“Oh, honey, you will not,” Ilena chastised her. “You’re beautiful, Lucy. Men like curves, you know.”

“Dane likes curves,” Carly confirmed, and Therese and Marti both nodded. Of their close-knit group’s spouses, Fia’s husband, Scott, had had a serious appreciation for her muscles, but all the rest of them were softer, rounder, curvier, and their husbands had adored them.

Keegan adored her.

Lucy smiled, but Therese wasn’t convinced their assurances had lightened her mood. She still seemed down when Jessy and Fia arrived, followed by a few of the other semi-regulars.

They had their usual fun, talking and teasing, I-hate-my-job stories from Jessy and tales from Marti about her thrice-married mother’s latest engagement. Lucy described her new oven with the same loving detail another woman might have given a designer outfit, and everyone had advice to offer Carly about her honeymoon.

Therese always enjoyed their evenings, but tonight it was even more of a pleasure. These women were her best friends, her support, her sisters in sorrow but also in joy. She loved them.