Playing Dirty (14 page)

As if she sensed the moment, her smile wavered and she took a step back before he could lower his head and taste her glossy lips. Guilt kicked him in the gut, followed by a deep prick of annoyance. Once upon a time, kissing his wife whenever the hell he’d wanted to wasn’t an issue. Granted, their circumstances weren’t ideal, but damn it, he was her husband. She shouldn’t...what? Be so skittish around him? Avoid his touch?

He stifled the string of vile swear words threatening to erupt and slammed the lift gate closed. The next few minutes were destined for more emotional chaos. He didn’t need to complicate matters by coming on to his wife when she clearly wasn’t interested.

A high-pitched squeal drew his attention. He looked over in time to see Phoebe fly up the steps of the front porch and launch herself into his father-in-law’s outstretched arms.

“Here we go,” Mattie murmured as Griffen, Jed and Austin gathered on the wide front porch.

Ford followed behind, carrying the remaining grocery sacks. As they neared the house, he spotted another woman he didn’t recognize inside the front door. She hung back from the ruckus and observed their approach. He estimated her age around mid-to-late fifties, and from the concerned way she kept looking at Tom, he’d bet this was the secret he’d been keeping from his daughters.
 

“Look, Granddaddy. Look,” Phoebe said pointing in his direction. “My daddy’s not in Heaven anymore.”

He climbed the steps to greet his father-in-law. After a nudge from Jed, Austin dutifully took the grocery bags from him and carried them into the house.

Tears brightened Tom’s eyes. “As I live and breathe,” the older man said. He handed Phoebe off to Jed, who hoisted the girl onto his shoulders.
 

“Good to see you, Tom,” Ford said, extending his hand.

“Damned good to see you, too, Son.” Tom ignored his outstretched hand and pulled him into a bear hug instead. “Damned good.”

Mattie’s family was his family. That’s how it’d been for as long as he could remember. Once his mom had passed, the only family he had left was a great aunt in Connecticut he’d seen twice in his entire life and barely remembered. But the Harts? They were his family. His people. For the first time since returning, he truly felt as if he’d come home.
 

Home. Where he prayed he still belonged.

“It’s good to be here,” he said when Tom finally let him go.

Tom beamed with genuine happiness. “I’ll bet.” He clapped a hand on Ford’s back, landing with a firm smack between his shoulder blades.
 

Ford stiffened for half a heartbeat, just long enough for his father-in-law to notice. Tom gave him a quizzical glance, which he returned with a slight shake of his head, effectively dropping the subject. Temporarily, at least.
 

When Tom finally turned his attention to Mattie, Griffen snagged his gaze and motioned for him to follow her into the house. Jed swung Phoebe down from his shoulders and took her by the hand while Ford took the last two grocery sacks from Mattie. Ford followed behind, but not before seeing the extreme concern lighting his father-in-law’s eyes. Whether for his physical condition or Mattie’s emotional one, he couldn’t be sure. Knowing Tom, no doubt a good measure of both.

He walked into the house and looked around. The last time he’d been there had been well over six years ago, and other than a fresh coat of paint, little had changed in his absence. The year before his capture, he’d been on back to back missions. Then, Mattie had been pregnant with Phoebe so they’d remained close to their home in San Diego. When her parents had come out west for a visit, he’d been in some hot zone playing the big shot hero.
 

And for what? For missing out on the first five years of his daughter’s life? For his wife to become a widow because he’d supposedly been killed in action? No wonder she’d turned to Avery. He’d given her no other choice.

“You look like you could use a drink,” Jed said to him.

“Several. But I’ll take an iced tea.”
 

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” he said, determined to shake off the melancholy. “I’m driving.”

Jed pulled a pair of glasses from the cabinet. “Coming up.”
 

“How is that possible?” Griffen asked as she started to unload the bags. “Didn’t your driver’s license expire?”

“Friends in high places,” Ford answered.
 

“Must be nice.”

“It has its perks.” He took the glass of tea Jed offered. “Who was that woman I saw earlier?”

“Lillian Valdez,” Griffen told him, keeping her voice low. “We just met her.”

“Your dad has a girlfriend?”

Griffen hiked one eyebrow. “So it seems.”

He’d always had a hard time reading Griffen. She was more stoic than Mattie and more grounded than their oldest sister, Dani, had been. With Griffen, he’d never been able to tell if she was being skeptical or sarcastic.
 

At that moment, Lillian Valdez walked into the kitchen. “Can I do anything to help?”

“No, thank you,” Griffen offered a warm smile. “A word of warning, though. My sister’s not shy about enslaving those around her, so we tend to scatter if we can manage it.”

“Good to know,” Lillian said.

“You’re safe for now.” Griffen pulled out a chair from the breakfast bar. “Jed, will you fix Dr. Valdez something to drink?”

“Lily, please. I’ll have whatever y’all are having.”

“Another round of iced tea, it is,” Jed said.
 

Ford had a hard time reconciling the wild stories he’d heard about Maitland the Maniac, the Texas Wranglers’ former star quarterback, with the man he was beginning to know. The brother-in-law serving iced tea and friendly chit-chat with Tom’s lady friend hardly seemed like a hardboiled womanizer or the hell on wheels troublemaker. With training camp already in full swing and the Wranglers’ first pre-season game a couple of weeks away, he couldn’t help wonder if Jed missed the game.

Ford approached Dr. Valdez and extended his hand. “Ford Grayson.”

She shook his hand, surprising him with her strong grip. “Lily Valdez.”

“You’re a doctor?” he asked as he pulled out a bar stool and sat. “What’s your specialty?”

She smiled her thanks when Jed slid a glass of iced tea in front of her. “Psychiatry.”
 

“Interesting field,” Ford said. “I’ll bet you’re fun to sit next to at cocktail parties.”

“Ah yes.” She grinned. “Because I see what others cannot.”

Ford chuckled. “Something like that.”

“No such luck. Psychiatry, not psychic. I missed that class in med school.” Her smile deepened with humor and Ford understood Tom’s attraction to Dr. Lily. In some ways, she reminded him of his late mother-in-law with her thick, dark sable hair, and her direct gaze, a more-gray-than-blue that reminded him of the sky just before a storm started to gather.
 

“That’s too bad,” Jed added, slipping the last container into the fridge.
 

“Trust me,” Lily said. “There were times it would’ve been incredibly handy, too.”

Griffen handed Jed a large plastic Tupperware container filled with potato salad. “Would have? You’re retired?”

“Not completely.” Lily took a sip of her tea. “I still work, but mostly on-call with crisis patients.”

“Suicide watch.” Ford shook his head. “That doesn’t sound like much fun.”

“Unfortunately, no, it really isn’t. And yes,” she said, “most of my patients are suicidal, which is all too often a desperate cry for help.”

The bags now empty, Jed folded and stowed them in the pantry. “Seems rather dramatic,” he said. “I can think of a dozen other ways to ask for help.”

“That’s because you’re not a high risk patient with mental health issues,” Lily explained. “A large percentage of the people I work with are suffering from varying forms of schizophrenia or severe bipolar disorder. One of the most difficult aspects is keeping them on their meds. You really haven’t lived until you try convincing a paranoid schizophrenic, who hasn’t slept in three days, that the medication he needs in order to function, isn’t filled with micro-organisms crafted by some high-tech government lab rat, in order to take over his body while he sleeps.”

“In my line of work,” Ford said with a chuff of laughter, “I wouldn’t discount it as a possibility.”

Jed laughed. “Paranoid much?”
 

Ford grinned. “Only a little.”

Austin and Phoebe came into the kitchen, Austin moving beside Griffen. The kid towered her by a good two inches and easily slung his arm over her shoulder. “I’m hungry.”

“What’s new?” She reached for the fruit basket on the counter. Austin plucked a nectarine, then went to the sink to rinse it. Ford couldn’t believe how much the kid had grown since he’d last seen him. The fact that he was a carbon copy of Jed was mind boggling.
 

“Daddy?” Phoebe’s tug on his pant leg drew his attention away from his rapidly growing nephew. “Where’s Mommy?”
“She’s talking to Granddaddy,” he told Phoebe. She lifted her arms and he reached down to place her onto his lap. “Why? What you need, Centipede?”

“A hug.” She slipped her little arms around his neck and held on tight. “Just a hug, Daddy.”
 

“You’ve come to the right place,” he said. “I’ve got lots and lots of hugs ‘specially for you.” He held her close and kissed the top of her head.
 

Unexpected pain ripped through him. God, he’d missed so much. He glanced at Griffen in time to see her eyes go all watery. “How on earth am I supposed to make up for all the lost time with her?” he asked, holding his daughter close.

“One hug at a time,” Lily told him. “One hug at a time.”

* * *

Jessie, her dad’s ten-year-old Border Collie, nudged Mattie’s leg. She bent down to pet the dog while her dad poured a splash of whiskey into a glass.

“Care to join me?” he asked.

She gave Jessie a pat on the side, then walked over to where her dad stood at the bar. “Sure.” She slipped her arms around him and held on tight. A Texas-sized lump lodged in her throat as she hung onto him, drawing strength from the steady beat of his heart, from his strong arms as he held her.
 

He kissed the top of her head. “How are you, baby girl?”

“A wreck.” She let go and took the glass from him, then went to the dark brown leather sofa and sat. Jessie trotted over to rest her head on her knee, staring at her with soulful brown eyes. “How much did Griff tell you?” Mattie asked, absently petting the dog.
 

Tom fixed himself a drink, quickly downed it, then poured another. Her father had never been much of a drinker, but these were extenuating circumstances.
 

“Only the high points,” he said as he joined her on the sofa. “All I know is that you and Trenton returned to find Ford waiting for you. Trenton is in Dallas and Ford is staying with you at the Maple Street house. Is there an actual plan in play to resolve this situation amicably?”

“I don’t think amicable is going to work.” She let her head fall back against the buttery-soft leather and breathed in the familiar scents of her dad’s study. Peppermint, the lingering scent of vanilla pipe tobacco from a habit long forgotten, and a hint of lemon wax from the recently polished furniture. She wanted to cry, but was afraid if she started up again, she’d never stop.

“You could be right. Given the circumstances, amicable could very well be off the table.” He placed a strong, warm hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mattie.”

She turned her head to look at him, but couldn’t even summon a smile. “Ford isn’t dead. I just married Trenton. What does that make me?”

“A woman with a lot of husbands.”
 

She narrowed her eyes. “You are
not
funny.”

“That’s because I’m a physician, not Jimmy Kimmel.” He took her wrist and held it. She knew what he was doing. She wasn’t stupid. A girl didn’t grow up being the daughter of the town doctor without picking up on a few of his sly tricks along the way.
 

Seemingly satisfied that her pulse wasn’t somewhere in the stratosphere, he let her go. “So what do you plan to do about the over-abundance of husbands?”

“That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?”

“Sixty-four thousand dollar question, but with inflation, you’re probably right.”

“You are so not helping.”

He chuckled. “No, I don’t suppose I am. So what questions should I be asking?”

She frowned. “How about answering a couple? Like where were you? If you’re going to go off the grid, Dad, it’d be nice to have a little warning.”

“We all need to unplug now and again,” he answered without answering. “I want to know why is it two weeks ago I gave you away to Trenton when Ford was still alive.”

“Ah,” she said. “Now that is a
ten
million dollar question.”

“I’d settle for a nickel’s worth of an answer.”

She let out a sigh. “He was captured. That’s all I know. We’ve barely discussed it.”