Mendoza's Return (10 page)

He'd barely looked at her, and kept himself more than a foot away. Worst of all, he seemed in a hurry to get away.

“Why aren't you coming to my place tonight?” she asked, unable not to.

He finally focused on her. “I have a meeting with Ross Fortune. Will you miss me?”

“Yes.”

He closed his eyes for a few seconds. When he opened them, his expression was entirely different. She saw tenderness and a building desire, his eyes darkening by the second. “That's what I've been waiting to hear,” he said, his voice low.

“Did you think it doesn't matter to me whether I see you?”

“We never talk, Mel. We have sex—great sex—but that's it. I don't know how you feel about anything.”

“I thought it was what you wanted.”

“I thought it was what
you
wanted.” He inched a little closer. “Maybe now that we're a couple of weeks into this relationship, we need to go over the ground rules, make some changes. Can I come by after my meeting?”

Relief raced through her, stealing her breath, weakening her knees. She'd been afraid he was starting to let her down gently. Her heart stopped pounding against her chest like a bass drum in a parade. “Yes.”

“How about we do something really different tonight?” he asked, a mischievous smile forming. “How about we just talk?”

She smiled back. “We can try.”

He laughed, then they ran to their cars as rain pelted them. Between the soaking in the rain and the
late hour, by the time she drove back to her house, she was starved. But not just for food.

She wanted something more. Much, much more. And she didn't think talking was going to satisfy that hunger.

R
afe got home in time to change clothes and towel-dry his hair, Melina on his mind the whole time. Their relationship was about to undergo a change, one he wasn't sure either of them was prepared for. To spend time talking meant letting each other in. They'd both been hesitating about doing that. He knew fear drove him, but is that what drove her, too? That the past would catch up with them, and they'd have to deal with it instead of ignore it?

And would he get to stay overnight now, to sleep with her? It'd been a long time since he'd held her all night. The last time he'd done that they'd been committed to each other, with plans to marry and have children. Now they both seemed determined to avoid such commitments.

His doorbell rang. Ross was right on time. They pulled up a couple of bar stools at the kitchen counter, but before they opened the lid on the pepperoni pizza Ross had brought, he set the baggie holding the gold medallion on the counter next to Rafe. Then he added a second one.

Rafe looked them both over. “Duplicates?”

Ross nodded. “I knew it looked familiar. Bear with me here, because this is going to sound totally off the wall, but I woke up from a dream this morning, one in which Ryan Fortune appeared to me. Do you remember him?”

“Vaguely. He died a few years ago, right?”

“Of a brain tumor. His widow is Lily, who, as you know, was to marry William Fortune the day he disappeared.”

“I'm following you so far.”

“I know it had to be a dream, but I swear I saw Ryan's spirit at the foot of my bed, Rafe. He told me he hoped the medallion would help to reunite baby Anthony and his father—as if I knew who his father was. And that very second, I was sure where I'd seen that medallion. I had to hunt for it, but I finally found it with some family papers. My sister and brothers and I got these as Christmas gifts from our mother thirty-two years ago. I was ten years old.”

“Are they more than trinkets, after all?” Rafe asked, intrigued.

“They're rare and expensive. At the time my mother told us a crazy story about their history that
none of us believed, knowing her penchant for telling tales.” He pushed up the lid of the pizza box. “I did what you suggested and had the medallion appraised. It's worth a small fortune. Because I had no choice, I called my mother, whom I rarely speak to, and asked where she got them, because I know she wouldn't have had enough money to buy them herself. After some prodding she told me that William Fortune had given them to her. Since he's gone missing, or possibly worse, I can't verify that story, but there's no reason not to believe her.”

“So, your sister and brothers also have matching medallions?”

Ross nodded, then pulled a slice of pizza from the box. “I talked to my sister. She still has hers. I contacted my brother Flint, who's been living in upstate New York. He said he lost track of his medallion, but that he'd be on a plane down here within the next week. As for my brother Cooper, he's pretty much a nomad. When he checks in with one of us, we'll tell him what's going on. Who knows? Maybe Ryan Fortune's spirit will visit him and tell him to call home.”

Rafe snagged a slice of pizza and let the story run through his head for a minute while he ate. “So, either Flint or Cooper must be the father? It's too much of a coincidence otherwise. Although it's odd that the baby was left without a note saying so.”

“There's a lot that doesn't make sense. Yet. At least we can run DNA tests with Flint. Maybe Coop
pawned his along the way—or something. But, as you say, it would be too coincidental for it to turn up in Red Rock around an abandoned baby's neck.”

“To put it mildly. What does Jeremy say? Are he and Kirsten getting too attached to give up the baby when the time comes?”

“There's always that danger, but they seem committed to finding the parents. And you know, we keep talking about the father but forget we don't know the mother, either, now that Courtney has admitted she's not. What a mess.” He looked bemused. “This is one of the most complicated cases I've ever worked on as a P.I., and it might turn out that the kid's my nephew.”

The men finished up the pizza then Ross took off. Rafe decided to stop by Jeremy's place to see the baby for himself since he had time before heading to Melina's. Jeremy was performing a late, emergency surgery, Kirsten said, inviting him in. In the background, the baby cried.

“I'd given up walking him and put him in the swing, but that hasn't made him any happier. He's gotten a little spoiled because Jeremy walks him a lot.” She looked askance at Rafe. “You wouldn't be interested in trying, would you? I fixed myself a bowl of soup, and it's getting cold.”

For as much as he liked kids, Rafe hadn't held many babies, if any at all. Maybe a long time ago. “Go eat. Relax,” he said, then walked to the swing and eyed the screaming infant. He lifted Anthony
out then started walking and bouncing. His cries got louder. He had trouble catching his breath, he was crying so hard. So Rafe shifted him up to his shoulder and patted his back.

The crying slowed, bit by bit. Finally he drew a few shaky breaths, tucked his face against Rafe's neck and went to sleep. Rafe felt comforted himself, and happy that he'd been able to calm him.

Kirsten wandered in, a bowl in her hands, a smile on her face. “He must like men's voices better than women's. Thank you. Can you stay until Jeremy gets home from the hospital?” She laughed.

“Won't he sleep for a while?”

“If you hold him. If you put him down, all bets are off.”

Rafe sat in a rocking chair, the baby's warm body against his, a living reminder of what he'd expected to have with Melina. Four kids
at least,
they'd decided. They would've had two by now, if all had gone to plan. He was surprised at the depth of emotions he felt thinking about it. It'd been off his radar for so long, he'd forgotten.

“You're a natural,” Kirsten said, taking a seat on the sofa, pulling out baby clothes from a laundry basket to fold.

Eventually Jeremy returned. They talked for a little while about the medallion's connection to the Fortune family, then Rafe maneuvered the baby into Jeremy's arms, feeling an instant loss of warmth—and peace.

Rafe headed for Melina's, parking on the side street as usual. Maybe this wasn't the best time to have a talk with her. He hadn't realized how cheated he'd felt for all these years since their plan had gone awry.

Then again, maybe a little clearing of the air was just what the doctor ordered.

 

Melina was more edgy than on any of the other nights since Rafe had started coming over. Before, she'd been excited and anxious. Now her nerves felt close to the surface and prickly.

The plan was to talk. Would she learn things she didn't want to know? Would he? Would tonight move their relationship forward or push it back?

Maybe it would end it.

The idea made her breath catch. If they talked, if they were honest with each other, he might walk out and never come back.

That fear escalated when he knocked. She tried to steady herself, then went to the door, her knees shaking. He slipped inside her house quickly, as always, and shut the door.

He looked different. More serious. As apprehensive as she, his emotions just as close to the surface as hers.

She set her hands on his chest and looked him in the eye, something indefinable driving her to change their plans. “I think we should talk later.”

He didn't even answer, but swept her into his arms
and headed up the stairs with her. With so much raw emotion between them, sex could either be mind blowing or devastating.

But life without risk wasn't life at all.…

He laid her on her bed, followed her down and kissed her, not giving either of them time to come to their senses or change their minds. She felt no hesitance from him, no second thoughts, just need mixed with urgency. He was more aggressive and more driven, which was just fine with her. Soon, he let her take charge, her need just as powerful. She explored him. Cherished him. Welcomed him…

Couldn't get enough of him.

She tasted, taunted and teased, enjoying all the textures of his body, all the hitched breaths and sounds of arousal. How powerful that was, to bring about such a response.

She lingered, making the experience last, running her fingertips over him, following with her mouth, taking him almost to the brink several times, until he hauled her on top of him and helped her to lower herself onto him. She loved the sounds he made and the attention he paid to her body, so exposed to him. But he didn't last long after that. Nor did she. It was a wild ride of abandonment, tempered with fear and doubt and a tiny bit of hope. Nothing like it had happened before, not to this degree.

Would it ever happen again?

She ended up draped over him, his arms around her, their slick bodies adhering.

“Would you like to spend the night?” she asked, quietly, apprehensively.

Then came the answer she'd dreaded. “Before we go that far,” he said. “Let's do what we intended to. Let's talk.”

She rolled onto her side, facing him, dragging her fingertips along his neck, stalling.

“You smell like baby powder,” she said.

“I just came from visiting Jeremy and Kirsten.” He put a hand on hers, stopping her exploration. “The baby needed calming. For some reason, he took to me.”

“Just like Elliot.”

“Melina.” His expression was so serious. “Why are you evading?”

Because I'm scared.
“I don't know.”

He got out of bed, grabbed her hand and pulled her up. When they were dressed, they settled in on her couch downstairs. She sat at the opposite end, facing him, her knees up.

“On the subject of Elliot's attachment to you,” she said, finding a safe place to start. “I called Q when I got home, then I spoke with Elliot's parents. Elliot knows about Asperger's in theory, but he doesn't really understand the complexities of it, so his parents work with him issue by issue as they come up. Baseball is a big-picture issue—physical, mental and emotional elements come into play.”

“So, nothing can be done about his strong connection to me? It's too complicated to try?”

“They'll talk to him about how it looks to the other kids when he's not fully involved in the game, so that would be your cue. Remind him what his goal is. It should work. If not, we'll try something else. It's important that he doesn't obsess about you, because it's very hard to break an obsession, which you've probably guessed from how he's always quoting your stats.”

“His parents sure have a lot to deal with.”

“Parents are the unsung heroes of the world, for so many reasons.”

“Even temporary ones, like Kirsten and Jeremy taking care of a baby they have no ties to.”

“Your mom would've done that,” Melina said. She rested her chin on her upraised knees, looking at him directly, wondering once more where this conversation—this long-overdue conversation—would take them, while still aching pleasantly from their lovemaking. “She seemed happiest when she was taking care of everyone.”

“As do you.”

His tone sounded matter-of-fact, and yet his body language was at odds with that, not nearly as relaxed. “I'm not totally selfless,” she said.

“People like to talk about you to me,” he said, his eyes smiling at the absurdity of it all. “You are the champion do-gooder of Red Rock.”

“Is that a compliment or a criticism?”

“I guess it's somewhere in the middle.” He held up
a hand. “I know. I have no right to make those kinds of comments.”

She thought that over for a few seconds. “It seems to me that this
is
the time for that, now that our initial sexual attraction has settled down.”

His brows went up. “Settled down? That's what you call—” he pointed toward the ceiling “—that?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I don't think I do. I want you as much now as I did our first time. Probably even more than then. It's far from settled down for me. And I haven't detected any lessening of desire from you. Just the opposite, in fact.”

“Wow. Okay. This really is going to be a serious discussion,” she said, even more worried about the outcome. “Yes, I want you even more than ever. But, there are walls between us, Rafe.”

He nodded. “I'm looking to start the next stage of my life, Melina. I didn't know that when I made the decision to come home. I thought it was to help my dad, and certainly that was number one in my reasoning, but I'm making a new life here. A complete life. I hadn't realized how shallow my existence had been these past few years. As I told you, I'd had one goal in mind—success. I liked the money and prestige. I have a knack for buying and selling, and I don't even know where it came from. It's just instinct.”

“How'd you manage to take the time to help Elliot?”

“I made time. Put off some other things.”

“
Why
did you?” she asked, since it didn't seem to fit with running a successful law practice.

He was quiet awhile, then, “Because you asked. I haven't done anything I haven't been paid to do for a long time. Maybe never. I don't remember.”

“It's incredibly rewarding. Helping people,” she added. “If I hadn't taken care of my grandmother for that year, I never would've known about this field of work—or how good I would be at it.”

“Tell me about that.”

Showtime, she thought. The beginning of what had become the end of their relationship. “You were with me when I got the news about her stroke. We'd been at Ann Arbor for, what, three months? Mom and Dad talked me out of coming home until Christmas break.”

“Then you never went back to college.”

“I couldn't. You saw that. Gramps wasn't in the best of health, so he couldn't assume the load. My mom worked full-time. Angie and Stephanie were too young.” She leaned across the space between her and Rafe and touched his arm. “I missed
you,
but I found I really didn't miss college.”