As soon as he shut his eyes to the faint neon from the “vacancy” sign bleeding through the green curtains that didn’t quite shut all the way, it was as if his mind finally cooperated.
A few memories crept in. In bed, Rita leaning her head in her hand as she propped herself up with an elbow, her curls spilling down. She was looking down at him as he lay there, using his finger to lazily trace the soft, pale inside of her arm. Their skin was drying from the sweat that had beaded on it during their lovemaking.
“I usually don’t sleep around like this,” she said. “I’ve got responsibilities that I take seriously.”
“Like your hotel,” he said.
She swallowed hard, her gaze widening, as if what she was about to say next would change everything.
“It’s more than that, Conn.”
He’d risen up on an elbow, too, coming face-to-face with her.
“Tell me,” he said.
“Kristy. That’s my daughter’s name.”
Conn looked into her eyes, expecting that the urge to flee would grab him at any second. Instead, he heard himself saying, “A little girl with your hair and eyes.”
Rita seemed as if she thought the night was about to end right there, but...
He leaned toward her, kissed her on the temple, reaching out to slide a hand over her hip...
His eyes opened, his heart beating so fast that he had to sit up to find balance.
Dammit, he’d been smitten by Rita in that moment, hadn’t he? But, based on what his brothers had told him, Conn probably would’ve sent the necklace back to her with an endearment-filled note, finding some charming way to ease their parting while never promising to return after that. He would’ve used his “Jedi mind tricks,” as his oldest brother, Bradon, called it, to make her think that one night of happiness was wonderful enough without expecting more from him.
As he swung his legs over the side of the bed, planting his feet firmly on the shag carpet, he leveled his breathing.
Had he hurt Rita enough to send her into another man’s arms? And had that man gotten her pregnant and left, too?
Or had the old Conn, the furthest thing from ideal father material, made a baby with her and accidentally left anyway?
As he lay back down, the neon light from the window beat like a red heartbeat on the ceiling.
But it also looked like a warning light, advising him to leave well enough alone.
Chapter Three
The next morning, Rita finished putting Kristy in a leotard for “Job Day” at the preschool. It was Dress Up Week, and right now, at least, Kristy was dressed as a ballerina, her dream career for when she grew up. Last week it’d been a cowgirl like her aunt Kim, the week before, an astronaut.
She wrangled her daughter’s curls into a bun using a scrunchy. “Tomorrow you get to wear a princess costume for Royalty Day.”
“Pancake Day comes after.” Kristy was admiring a beaded pink bracelet around her wrist. “What do I wear for that?”
“Your cutest pajamas, my dear.” Rita kissed Kristy’s cheek, lingering, loving the sweet smell of her. She still had that little-girl scent, sugar and spice and everything nice, and she hoped it would never go away.
When Conn had walked with her to the preschool yesterday, Rita had at first been reluctant to have him along while she picked up her daughter. But since she’d told him about Kristy “that night,” a part of her genuinely wanted to see if he would remember. And if he would get the same look on his face that he’d had after she’d revealed that she was the mother of a four-year-old.
But that was where she’d stopped with the honesty. She’d also had a total knee-jerk, ultradefensive reaction when he’d asked about her little baby bump; she’d outright lied to him that the child wasn’t his.
Right afterward, she’d known it wasn’t the right thing to do. He was the father. Yet he was also a very scattered man who wouldn’t be remotely reliable. He might even be another Kevin, so making Conn think that this was someone else’s baby seemed to be the safest choice for both of them.
Even so, Rita kept picturing Conn as he’d been in that bed, while he smiled down at her as if the news about her having a daughter already didn’t bother him at all.
“A little girl with your hair and eyes,” he’d said before caressing her again, leading her into a place where she could hope and love and forget the past.
Would he be able to show that kind of affection for a surprise baby? Kevin sure hadn’t.
Kristy hopped toward her bedroom door. “Can I do the computer now? We brushed my teeth!”
“You sure can.” Kristy often got sidetracked by everything but getting ready in the morning, so Rita had found that dangling the reward of using the laptop computer was incentive for her to stay focused.
They went to the kitchen table where Rita directed the computer to a kid-friendly page with Barbie games and went to her room to finish her own toilette.
The top floor of the hotel had always been the caretaker’s quarters and, even though the property had been handed down, generation after generation, Rita’s own family hadn’t actually lived in the suite, which was decorated with the same Victorian furniture and antiques that gave the rest of the hotel its Old West feel. It’d been too small for two parents and three children when she was younger.
But it was just right for her and Kristy and another one on the way. The three of them.
She didn’t stop to think about how it might’ve seemed a little more crowded with Kevin, had he stuck around. Or with any other man.
As she got to her bathroom, then pinned back her hair with a barrette, she tried not to think about Conn, but it was impossible not to. What would’ve happened if he hadn’t gotten in that accident? Would he have come back?
How long would he have stayed?
Heart muted, she told herself to stop dwelling on it. Instead, she forced her attention to the task of applying a little blush, then eye shadow, mascara, which she seemed low on, and pink lipstick. Then she stifled a yawn as she went to the personal calendar she kept posted on the refrigerator in the kitchen area. It mainly showed Kristy’s upcoming activities: Job Day, a slumber party tonight with Aunt Kim, Royalty Day, Pancake Day, dance and baton lessons.
All this in addition to her own schedule, which included a doctor’s appointment this week, maid-of-honor duties for Violet’s wedding this weekend, then Thanksgiving next week. She would definitely have to begin working in more time for her and her unborn baby—nap time so she wouldn’t be stressed, a little light exercise time...
Rita thought about the looks she’d been getting around town recently as she strolled the boardwalk, her tummy just beginning to show. Some glanced at her and smiled. Others had an expression on their faces as if thinking, “She never learns, does she?”
Another unplanned pregnancy. And the thing was, Rita was such a careful person. Always had been, too.
With Kevin, she’d been engaged. She hadn’t seen him for a while, because he’d needed to relocate near Houston for a job in some natural-gas fields because of the kaolin-mine closure. She’d been so young then, so unsuspecting about how life could go wrong, and she’d thought that she and Kevin would always love each other, that neither of them would ever change.
But he’d grown distant after taking the new job. It’d been a gradual thing, with him being more withdrawn during his weekend visits, with him complaining more and more about the mine closure and how life wasn’t fair. Kevin had never done well with change.
Yet Rita had merely told herself that he would get used to life as she worked her rear off in the hopes of taking time away from the hotel and attending college. She had loved him as she had during high school, when they’d been sweethearts, and after graduation, when they’d kept on seeing each other, saving their money for when they would have a family one day.
Then, one night, during a rushed bout of weekend lovemaking, something had happened. Her diaphragm hadn’t been inserted as it should’ve bee
n—at least, that was the doctor’s guess. She’d gotten pregnant before getting married and...
Dammit, Rita, we’re not ready for a family.
Now, at the memory of Kevin’s reaction to the news, Rita turned away from the calendar. Why did it all have to come back?
Kevin demanding that she rethink their situation in life. Kevin “suggesting” that she “take care” of their “mistake.” Her finding out that their life had been a lie all along when he told her he had been seeing another woman in his “other home,” the one he lived in during the week for his job.
Him leaving Rita as an unmarried mother for that other woman.
Blowing out a breath, Rita told herself that she’d been careful with Conn, too—at least physically. It was just that, when they’d used protection, there’d been one time when the condom had slipped a little after they’d made love and he was pulling out of her...
She rubbed her belly under her work skirt. No matter the circumstances, she was already head over heels for this child. Like Kristy, this baby would be easy to love, to take care of, to hold and kiss and treasure.
I’ll always be here, she thought, softly patting her tummy. But who needs a daddy you can’t trust?
She kept telling herself that Conn didn’t even know who he was, so what kind of father could he be? As far as she even knew, she’d gone to bed with a fantasy—the Conn Flannigan who had seemed just as taken with her as she’d been with him that night.
That fantasy man didn’t exist, though.
Walking down the hall, she heard the sounds from the computer and went over to Kristy, bending down to plant a long kiss on top of her head. “Come on, sweetie. Time to go.”
“One more minute?” the little girl asked.
“Nope. You’ve still got a half hour banked for computer time this week, though, and you can use it later.”
A jaunty knock sounded on the door, and Kristy bounded over to open it. As Rita shut down the computer, Kristy squealed.
“Aunt Kim!”
When Rita glanced over she saw her younger sister, dressed in old boots and jeans and a threadbare blue T-shirt. Kim was wearing her dark curly hair in a ponytail, seeming every inch the tomboy of the family. She lifted Kristy up, twirled her around, then set her back down and used her forefinger to tweak the child’s nose.
“Why, if it isn’t Tina Ballerina,” Kim said.
“Kristy Ballerina.”
Both Kim and Rita laughed. “Thanks for walking her to school,” she said to Kim on the way out the door.
“No problem. It’s my day off, anyway, and Nick’s got everything covered.”
Good ol’ big bro.
As Rita shut the door, she braced herself for what the day would bring. Would wagging tongues be spreading news about Conn, with the way he was following her around and holding on to that R necklace she’d always worn, ever since she’d bought it from the Whitefeather Jewelry Boutique with her first real paycheck from the hotel?
She hoped he’d finally gone home. At least, part of her did. The other part of her was just plain masochistic, she supposed, because it yearned for him, even after all that had happened.
They all went down the stairs, coming to the lobby, which was empty at this time of the morning.
Except for one person sitting in a velvet-upholstered chair.
Wouldn’t you know it, at the sight of Conn, Rita’s belly spun into a whir of desire and anxiety. His hat was perched on one bent knee as he perused a brochure about tourist sites in Houston. His hair was so thick and tempting that she bunched her fists, wishing she didn’t want to touch him so badly. He’d also taken a razor to his face, which was freshly shaven, emphasizing a strong jaw and cleft chin.
She shivered, thinking of how he’d held her, how he’d been inside of her. How he’d looked down at her as the dawn had rolled through the crack in the curtains. She’d never seen a look like that before, not even from Kevin, and it’d seemed so real.
Real enough to make her believe that he would stay forever.
He glanced up from his reading, as if he had Rita Radar. “Morning,” he said ever so casually.
Rita was desperate to make it seem as if he were just another customer. “Morning.”
Kristy wasn’t fooled, though. By the way she was pressing against her aunt Kim’s leg, checking Conn out, she recognized him from yesterday.
Rita kissed her daughter goodbye, then thanked Kim again. There weren’t any employees coming in to cover the front desk this morning, so it was up to Rita to do it.
“So we’ll see you tomorrow,” Kim said, heading for the exit with Kristy in tow. Then to Kristy, “We’re going to have fun at our slumber party tonight.”
“Yeah!” Kristy said.
Since Kristy visited Kim frequently, there was no need for packing this morning—Kristy had a drawer of clothing, plus a toothbrush, over at her aunt’s cabin.
Rita went over and gave Kristy an extra-big kiss. “Call me tonight?”
“Okay, Mommy.”
“We’ll check in before we have our Caillou marathon.” Kim gave Conn a curious glance before ushering Kristy to the door.
As for Kristy, she just kept checking out the cowboy.
When they left, the room seemed way too quiet. Rita thought about turning on the radio, until Conn got out of his seat and ambled over to the desk.
“I want to thank you for yesterday,” he said. “It helped.”
“Good to hear.”
Her pulse jittered. The last thing she needed was for all her hot-blooded, ill-thought-out feelings to come bursting up right now.
Good thing his next words put a stop to them. “I keep remembering bits and pieces about that night but... There are things that go along with them that I’m not really understanding, Rita.”
Oh, the sound of her name. He had a way of saying it, deep and low. Of owning it, somehow.
But she’d already come to the conclusion during the four months he’d been gone that she’d never be owned—not by another man, not by the anguish she’d managed to tame.
She decided to duck any deeper conversation. It was safer that way. “So your memory’s been jarred?”
“Somewhat.” His brow furrowed, as if he were on the edge of saying or thinking something that wasn’t quite gelling for him. “I could really use more of your help, though. You seem to be some kind of key for me.” He added that devastating smile that had gotten her into bed in the first place. “What do you say?”
That smile tugged at her so hard that she had to grip the counter.
He added, “There’d even be a good dinner it in for you after you finish with work.”
“Then you’ll go home?”
He laughed. “I made arrangements this morning to take some time off from the ranch, so I’m not in any hurry. But I swear I won’t bother you anymore after this. I’d just like to wander around town, see if there’s anything else here that’ll tweak my brain.”
“Goody.”
He ignored her sarcasm. “Don’t tell me you’re not free tonight, Rita. I was sitting right here when your sister said she’d be having a slumber party with Kristy.”
Shoot. Kim had mentioned the aunt/niece outing right in front of him. But there were a million other excuses to get out of this—like her final dress fitting for Vi’s wedding early tomorrow, for one. Resting her tired feet, for another.
Yet... She touched her belly. A baby. His baby. Maybe she owed him or her one dinner with the father, just for some closure and a chance to tell him the truth—if she could bring herself to do it.
She gripped the counter even tighter with her free hand. Thing was, she didn’t trust herself around this man. Whenever he was within range, her blood heated, her heart twirled, her body urged her to do things she shouldn’t even be dreaming of repeating with him.
Ground rules. Maybe she should just make some for him and for her.
“If we had dinner tonight,” she said, “it wouldn’t be anything...”<
br />
“Romantic?” He nodded. “I understand.”
She couldn’t decipher his expression, but the sinking sensation in her chest was real easy to read. Had she actually expected him to beg her to take up where they’d left off? He had to be just as wary of coming back to face her as she was to see him, and just because he was here didn’t mean he...
Well, that he remembered that night and the connection she’d thought they had, even just after several hours together.
He backed away from the counter, seemingly satisfied now. While putting his hat back on, he said, “What time’s good for you?”
It’d been a long while since she’d gotten ready to go out socially after work, so she calculated quickly. “Six?”
“Six it is.”
“There’s a good fish shack by Dempsy Lake, south of town. The Levee, they call it.” It was very public, although a little bit off the beaten track in St. Valentine itself, and usually populated by families during the afternoons she’d been there.
“Sounds good.” He sent her that grin again.
As he tipped his hat to her and went out the doorway, she held her breath.
And, for the rest of the day, it felt as if she never let it go.
* * *
The sky was rumbling softly when Conn drove Rita in his rented Ford truck down a winding dirt road to The Levee.
It was a semi-awkward drive, too, with the radio on, humming old Trisha Yearwood songs in place of conversation. He figured they’d have enough of that at the restaurant, so he didn’t push Rita into talking.
In fact, he didn’t think it wise to push her into anything—not this skittish woman. And if he had to take half of their meal to get her comfortable, he would sure do that, too.
But truthfully, he also didn’t mind the notion of merely spending time with her. His libido certainly didn’t object. Hell, it’d just about gone crazy when Rita had met him in front of the hotel, where she’d been waiting in a long flowing dark skirt and silver sweater with a thick wrap, perfect for a moonlit, rainy fall night. Her hair was pulled back in a barrette, wildly curling.
When they arrived at the fish shack, he scanned the stretched cabin that perched over the lake, which glittered under the fall of tiny raindrops. Pines surrounded the water, lending a heady fragrance.
Daddy in the Making Page 4