Authors: Patricia Coughlin
Borrowed Bride (22 page)
He fell asleep in the chair, his head at an awkward angle, and woke with what felt like a steel rod running through his neck and something hard and cold pressed to the center of his forehead.
He opened his eyes.
“Drop it, slime ball.”
Toby.
Connor rolled his gaze upward to see what the kid had pressed to his forehead, and his heart lurched. A gun. His mind reeled before he remembered that his own was safely locked in the cabinet Charlie had built for exactly that purpose. As a precaution he'd removed it from the knapsack under his bed and locked it there before going to pick up Toby yesterday. Kids and guns didn't mix.
He refocused his still-blurry gaze on the small, fiercely grimacing face before him. “What did you say?” he asked.
“Drop it, slime ball.”
Connor closed his eyes. “That's what I thought you said.”
“Drop it,” Toby repeated, plenty of grit in his high-pitched voice.
Connor cracked one eye. “What's âit'?”
The little head tilted to one side. “Huh?”
“âIt.' What's the âit' I'm supposed to drop?”
“Oh.” His mouth puckered into a pout as he thought it over. Just as his mother's did when she was perplexed, Connor thought, the loneliness that he had escaped with sleep surrounding him once again. “It,” the boy announced at last. “Drop it.”
“I have a better idea,” Connor said, wincing as he shifted in the chair in an attempt to relieve the pressure on his neck. “Go bother your mother.”
“She's sleeping.”
“So was I.”
“She doesn't like guns.”
“What makes you think I do?”
Toby gave him a smile so much like Joel's it made Connor's chest hurt. “You do. You're a guy. Guys like guns.”
“Yeah, well, that's nothing to smile about, kid. And it just so happens I don't like having them shoved in my face first thing in the morning. Got it?” he said, batting away the little hand holding the gun.
“Got it.”
“Where did you find that, anyway? Did your mother pack it for you?”
Toby shook his head in that energetic way that sent his hair flying. “I found it.”
“Whereabouts?”
“In the box.”
Connor levered up. There hadn't been any toy gun in that box. Had there? Hell, if the kid had gone poring through that stuff after he told Gaby he'd make sure it was out of the way...
“What box?” he asked him.
“The one near the door, with the pails and sand stuff.” He pointed, and Connor remembered seeing a box of beach toys near the door.
“I filled it, too,” Toby added. “All by myself. See?”
Before Connor could duck or tell him not to, he squeezed the trigger and shot a stream of cold water at him, hitting him right between the eyes. Naturally. The water trickled down and dripped from his chin onto his shirt.
Toby's stared at him with widened eyes. “Oops.”
“Oops doesn't cut it, kid.” Connor reached for him. “Give me your arm.”
Eyes growing wider still, Toby allowed himself to be jerked closer, his little arm stiff as a poker as Connor lifted it and used his sleeve to wipe the water from his face.
“Hey, you got my p'jamas wet,” he exclaimed.
“You got me wet, too.”
Toby eyed him suspiciously. “Those aren't p'jamas.”
“I don't wear pajamas. You got my shirt wet.”
“Not even to bed you don't wear them?”
“When else would I...no, not even to bed.”
“What do you wear to bed?”
“Nothâ None of your business.” He glanced anxiously at the stairs. “Are you sure your mother isn't awake yet?”
“I'm sure. She doesn't wear p'jamas, either, you know.”
I know, Connor thought, God, I know.
“Oh, really,” he replied, trying to sound as if what his mother wore to bed was of no interest to him whatsoever.
“âCause she's a girl,” Toby explained. “Girls don't wear p'jamas.”
“You know, for a five-year-old you've really got this girl-guy thing pretty squared away.”
Toby nodded solemnly. “Jack told me. He knows a lot about girls. Do you?”
The question brought a sardonic slant to Connor's mouth. “No. Next to nothing, it seems lately.” From the corner of his eye he saw the gun coming up. “Don't do it, kid.”
Toby dropped his arm agreeably. “Okay. If you want to take off your wet shirt, you can, you know.”
“I don't want to take it off.”
“How come?”
“I just don't, okay?”
“Okay.” That damn smile again. “I'm hungry.”
“Yeah?”
His head bobbed up and down.
“What do you usually eat for breakfast?”
“Crunchies. But they're up too high for me to reach.”
Connor stretched and got to his feet. He supposed it wouldn't kill him to pour the kid a bowl of cereal. He walked to the kitchen with Toby like a puppy at his heels, talking the whole time. Connor wasn't listening. He didn't want to know anything else about the kid. He didn't want to see him smile.
He stood with the cabinet door open, staring at the box of Crunchies cereal that Gaby had brought from her mother's and probably put out of reach intentionally.
If he poured the cereal, he told himself, he would have to pour the milk, too. He would have to put the bowl in front of Toby, after first helping him up onto the cushion Gaby had put on one of the kitchen chairs for him, the way he had watched her help him at dinner last night. He would be tempted to sit with him while he ate. Talk with him. Listen. He would learn things about him that would make him like the kid more than he already did.
He would have to confront the longing inside, the wish to provide Toby with all the things that were missing from his life...if only Connor could be certain they were his to give.
He slammed the door shut and turned to find Toby watching him expectantly, no doubt wondering how long it was going to take him to get down a box of cereal.
“Wait here,” he told him more roughly than he intended. “I'll get your mother.”
Chapter 11
S
he opened her eyes and saw him.
he opened her eyes and saw him.
And thought it was a dream, the same dream she'd been having and waking from all night long. A dream about Connor and her, his mouth, his clever, reckless mouth all over her and his fingers on her skin, everywhere.
Then she blinked and he didn't go away and she knew. “It's not a dream,” she murmured sleepily.
A sardonic smile creased his wide mouth. “More likely a nightmare, but it's not that, either.”
She smiled and levered up on one elbow, a thousand questions racing around in her head, only one that really mattered. “You brought me coffee.”
“Yeah.” He put the steaming mug on the table by the bed. “It seemed the least I could do if I was going to wake you up this way.”
“I'm glad you did,” she told him, sliding up in the bed so she could sit with her back against the pillows and drink her coffee.
The sheet drifted to her waist, and she left it there, aware that one strap on her nightgown had slipped off her shoulder, exposing her left breast almost to her nipple and that Connor's gaze was riveted to that spot. She took a sip, slanted her most bewitching smile at him and added gently, “I knew you would come to your senses. I'm just glad it happened before we wasted any more time.”
His head jerked. His lips, which had been relaxed and slightly parted as he stared at her breast, thinned to a rigid line.
“I haven't. Come to my senses, I mean...” The muscles at the side of his jaw tensed. “Nothing's changed since last night, Gabrielle. I just... Toby wants his breakfast.”
Gaby, her cheeks flaming, automatically turned and patted the bed beside her, as if expecting to find Toby still tucked in there. “I...I'm sorry, I didn't realize he'd gotten up. I didn't even hear him. I hope he hasn't been bothering you.”
Connor shook his head. “He hasn't. But I wasn't sure what he should eat, so...” He shrugged.
“Of course. Heaven knows, I don't expect you to feed him. I... I'll be right down.”
“Right. I'll tell him that.”
She held her breath until the door closed behind him, then released it in a rush of self-recrimination. God, she was an idiot. A complete idiot. She closed her eyes and shook her head and wished she could whisk herself and Toby out of there and back home without ever having to look Connor in the eye again. That would teach her to jump to conclusions, especially when she was still half-asleep.
She pulled her knees up and knocked her forehead against them, resting it there for several minutes before reluctantly swinging her legs off the bed and standing. No sense delaying the inevitable. Oh, well, she thought as she hurriedly pulled on her robe, at least she had the answer to her question and wouldn't have to endure the suspense of not knowing all day. Connor had laid it right on the line for her.
Nothing had changed.
As tempted as she was to take the easy way out and plunk Toby down with a bowl of Crunchies, she insisted on negotiating breakfast with him, and together they settled on one piece of French toast and a small bowl of his favorite cereal. Maybe she needed to prove to herself that she was still a good mother, even if she was obviously sorely lacking as a lover.
It was hard not to come to that humbling conclusion. No matter what else he might be feelingâremorse, guilt, trepidationâif the sex had been good enough, if she had been good enough, Connor wouldn't have been able to call a halt so quickly and easily.
Adding to her distress was the realization that she had no right to be so thrown by his sudden about-face. She had understood beforehand that Connor's main reason for wanting her just might be the fact that she had always been forbidden to him, and if that was the case, there was a good chance that he would quickly lose interest in her once the deed was done. She'd told herself she could handle it. And she could. It just wasn't turning out to be as simple as she'd foolishly let herself think it would be. Nowhere near as simple as falling in love with him had been.
She was even more thankful now that Toby had joined them. Entertaining him provided her with something to do as she and Connor went about their subtle dance of avoiding each other. If she and Toby were playing a game outside on the deck, he stayed inside. When they came inside to read, he found something he needed to attend to outdoors. There was no graceful way for him to avoid eating lunch with them, but he disappeared upstairs immediately after helping her clean up.
He came down a short while later and to Gaby's amazement, actually sought her out where she was reading in the living room while Toby played nearby.
“Can I talk with you for a minute?” he asked, nodding toward the kitchen to signal that he wanted to speak to her where Toby wouldn't hear.
“It's all set,” he said as soon as they were out of earshot. “I spoke with Lew Marino earlier and told him what we'd found last night, and he said he would see about checking out the computer at your place and any others that might have been used by Joel at work. I just called Lew back, and he said it's all arranged. A detective from their own technical unit will be at your house this afternoon. The powers that be at Joel's old firm are willing to cooperate on their end, as well, but their in-house counsel wants to see a search warrant first just to cover their... just to keep it all nice and legal.”
“How long will that take?”
“Not long. A few hours maybe. According to Lew, the technical guy he checked with said the only hitch will be if the documents were already in fragments before they were erased.”
“That will mean we're out of luck?”
“No. But evidently it will make the whole process of recovering them a lot more time-consuming. That brings me to the bad news,” he said.
Gaby bit her bottom lip, her arms folded in front of her. “What is it?”
“It looks like we may be stuck here longer than I thought. Until they get this done.”
Her heart lifted, fell, twisted sideways in uncertainty. Part of her wanted to walk out the door right that second in hopes that the old adage, “Out of sight, out of mind,” would prove true. Another part of her wanted to stay there with him forever.
“You promised me we could leave Friday,” she reminded him. No need to let him in on her turmoil.
“I didn't know then that this was going to play out the way it has. Besides,” he reminded her, “I only promised you that because you missed your son. That's no longer the case.”
A short, harsh laugh burst from her. “No, now Toby's here with me, and I'm missing something else entirely. Care to hear what that something is, Connor?”
“No.”
“Too bad, because you're going to hear it anyway.”
“Gaby, don't.”
“Don't what? Don't act as if there's more between us than any two strangers who happen to be sharing the same living quarters for a few days?”
His mouth twisted cruelly. “What makes you think there is?”
Gaby's breath hissed from her. She bared clenched teeth. “Damn you.”
“Save your breath. I was damned a long time ago.”
“Oh, knock it off,” she cried, then remembered Toby playing in the other room and lowered her voice. “Everybody has hard times in their lives. I grant you yours have been rougher than most, but that doesn't give you the right to go around hurting other people for no good reason.”
“You don't get it,” he growled, stepping forward so that she instinctively moved back until she was up against the refrigerator. “I'm trying not to hurt you.”
“Oh, I get it now, all right. You're trying to let me down gently. Is that it?”
He glared at her in silence.
“And I'm not cooperating, am I?” she continued in the same mocking tone.
“Not at all.”
“That's because what happened between usâ”
“What happened between us,” he cut in, his tone as sharp and absolute as the crack of a whip across her heart, “was a mistake.”
“A mistake?” Her voice collapsed under the weight of what she was feeling, forcing her to pause a second to regain a measure of composure. “Well, I have to hand it to you, DeWolfe, you're certainly blunt enough...if not especially bright.”
“Meaning?”
“Why didn't you realize that it was a mistake after the first time out by the lake? Or the second? Or the fifth? For God's sake, Connor, you made love to me over and over again, all night, yesterday morning...I've never felt that way before, so wanted, so desperate.” She sucked in a deep breath. “I couldn't get enough of you. You couldn't get enough of me. You said so. Were you lying?”
“No,” he replied, staring at a spot somewhere between her left shoulder and the ceiling.
“Look at me when you tell me. Were you lying?”
“No,” he said, jerking his gaze back to meet hers. “No, Gaby, I wasn't lying to you. I wanted you every bit as much as I told you...more. More than I knew how to tell you.”
“Then why? Was I just another notch on whatever it is that men like you carve notches on these days? An easy lay to alleviate the boredom of being here? Then once you got your fill, youâ”
He grabbed her roughly, hauling her against him. His mouth came down hard on hers, his tongue slashing like the sharp point of a knife along the seam of her tightly pressed lips, and Gabrielle was as powerless to resist as if it had been a knife. She couldn't have denied him entry if she'd wanted to, which she didn't.
His tongue filled her mouth, hot, insistent. His arms surrounded her, trying to pull her impossibly closer to him. Gaby wanted that, too. She pressed against him, muscle straining against muscle, her heart pounding against his. She felt his passion, rode it with a mixture of excitement and a heady, crazy relief. Desire, strong and urgent, erupted inside, tugging at her for a wild, gasping moment until the kiss ended as abruptly as it had begun.
“Did that feel to you like I've had my fill?” he demanded.
He was breathing hard, the restless movement of his hips drawing her gaze to the solid proof that she hadn't just imagined that he wanted her as fervently now as he had the first time they made love.
“And just for the record,” he added, “you were anything but an easy lay. Hell, I have muscles that still ache.”
“Good. You deserve it...and worse. Oh, Connor...”
She reached for him. He took a step backward, leaving her arms holding air.
“Damn it, Gaby,” he said, “I swore I wouldn't let this happen. That I wouldn't let you do this to me again.”
“Scared, Wolf?” she taunted, fully expecting that would goad him into proving to her that he wasn't.
Instead, he gave a curt nod, stunning her. “You bet I am. More scared than I've ever been.”
“Of me?” she asked, incredulous.
He shrugged. “Maybe a little. Of what you do to me. Mostly, though, I'm afraid of what I could do to you. And to Toby.”
“What are you talking about? Getting to know you would be so good for Toby. And you might even like him if you gave him half a chance.”
“I already like him... too much. He's a great kid, Gaby. And you were right, he's a lot like Joel. It hits you when you're least expecting it. This morning he smiled at me and I...it just blew me away, that's all,” he finished uneasily.
“Is that what you're frightened of?” she asked, her tone gentle. “Of being reminded of Joel?”
He gave an impatient shake of his head. “No. I think I've finally come to terms with that...as much as I ever will, anyway. I told you, it's not me I'm worried about, it's Toby.”
“Why don't you let me worry about what's best for Toby?”
“And who the hell is going to worry about what's best for you?”
“Maybe I know what's best for me.”
“You don't. Trust me. You were going to marry Adam,” he reminded her.
Gaby waved that off with a frown. “For very specific reasons which had nothing at all to do with the way I feel about you...the way you make me feel when we're together.”
Cynicism twisted his mouth. “Welcome to the world of noholds-barred sex, Gabrielle.”
“No. It's more than that and you know it. If it wasn't, you wouldn't be afraid.”
“You're right, it's more than that. But it's still not enough. I'm not enough.”
“Are you crazy? I neverâ”
“I'm not talking about sex. I'm talking about...everything else. I'm talking about that house you live in and the calendar you keep that has your life and Toby's scheduled down to the millisecond and fancy vases that can't be replaced.”
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