by Diana Gardin
Making sure I fall first, I hit the sand, holding on to her to break her fall as she slides down on top of me. She giggles as I roll her, hovering above her and staring down into her face alight with laughter and sunshine.
Goddamn. Beautiful.
She stops laughing, her smile fading slowly as she takes in the seriousness of my gaze, her plump pink bottom lip disappearing between her teeth. My cock twitches in my trunks, eager to get to his target.
Decker laughs behind us. “Good try, Mom. Jeremy faked you out, though.”
Clearing my throat, I get to my feet and pull Rayne up with me. We both brush sand off our bodies, but my eyes are on her hands, not mine.
“He’s sneaky.” Rayne’s voice carries a note of teasing as she jabs an elbow into my side.
“Hey,” I protest, lifting my hands into the air. “This is football. It was my job to sack the QB.”
Her lips puff out in a pout that I want to kiss away. What’s wrong with me? I’m not some horny teenager. I’m standing in front of my kid. I’m a man in control of my dick. Come on, Teague.
“Again!” Decker’s excitement is contagious, and Rayne and I both agree to keep playing.
Ten plays later, we’re all out of breath and ready to head back to the boat. Once we’re back onboard, Rayne settles Decker on a seat with a soda, and he leans back to take in the wake as we drive.
I indicate that she should come sit next to me, and she obliges, perching on the seat at my right.
“Thank you for today.” Her voice lifts to be heard over the roar of the engine, and I glance at her to see her studying me. I want so badly to ask her what she’s thinking, but I’m pretty sure we haven’t made it there yet. We’re still getting to know each other again, and I’m well aware of the fact that she doesn’t completely trust me.
“It’s been the best day I’ve had in a really long time. He’s…” I glance over my shoulder at our son, who’s staring out at the waves like there’s no place he’d rather be. My heart swells to a size I didn’t know was possible, stretching to accommodate the instant love I feel for Decker.
“Look,” she begins.
The serious tone of her voice makes my ears perk. “Yeah?”
She takes a deep breath, and my own breathing hitches. I’m not going to like what she’s about to say, that much is clear.
“I don’t expect anything from you, Jeremy. I’ve been doing this by myself for eight years, and if you don’t think you have room in your life for Decker, I’d like for you to just tell me now. He already adores you, and I don’t want to dangle you in front of him just to rip you away.”
She says the words like she actually believes I’d cut and run after spending the day with her and my son.
Anger bubbles up inside me, threatening to spill over. But I’m dealing with Rayne here, not a target. She’s the mother of my son, and she’s coming from a place of protection for our child and probably for herself. I reach over and take her hand in mine. It’s not something I planned to do, but I need to be touching her when I say what’s on my mind.
“Rayne. From this day on, I want to be part of his life. I want to protect him, teach him, and watch him grow. I want to teach him every single thing there is to know about being a good man. I swear to you, I want this. I want him. I always would have.”
I purposely omit the growing feelings swirling around inside me for her, because this is about Decker. And she needs to know that now that I have him, there’s no turning back.
He’s my son.
Her eyes are glossy and full of emotion. Her bottom lip quivers, and my stomach tightens. My hand squeezes hers, but what I really want to do is pull her into my arms. Maybe we’ll get to the point where I’m the guy who can do that for her, but we’re not there yet.
My grandparents robbed me of more than I ever could have imagined. I thought all they robbed me of was my respect for them, and the future I thought I’d have. But they stole my family from me, and I don’t know how I’m going to deal with the resulting rage.
It’s the last thing I want to do, but I know it has to happen. At some point, I’m going to have to pay them a visit, let them know that I know what they did. That no matter how old and frail they are now, I can’t forgive this.
Not this.
Rayne wipes her eyes, and I clear my throat. “And did I hear you thank me for ‘today’? Today isn’t over yet, darlin’.”
She lifts one perfectly arched brow. “Oh? What else do you have in mind, Mr. Teague?”
The Moomba cuts effortlessly through the waves, bouncing every so often as we glide toward the ICW. The sun has bronzed Rayne’s skin to a sexy caramel, and I’m aching to taste it…to taste her. I want to know all the ways she’s different, now that she’s all grown up.
And all the ways she’s still the girl I fell in love with as a teenager.
“We’re going to grab lunch out here near the beach, and then I would really like you and Decker to come to my place tonight for dinner.”
Her eyes widen in shock. “Jeremy…that’s spending the entire day together. I can’t monopolize your time like that. It’s Saturday, I’m sure you have things to do tonight.”
She’s talking about dating. She thinks I’d want to hang out with some chick over her and Decker? Wrong.
Holding her gaze, I shake my head. “I don’t have plans, Rayne. But I want to. Say you’ll come over.”
She hesitates, glancing back at Decker. Finally, she relents. “Okay. What can I bring?”
I toss her an amused glance. “What can you make?”
She blushes, the faint red stain creeping into her cheeks slowly. “I mean…I can make stuff.”
Grinning, I guide the boat around the peninsula toward the marina. “Yeah? You can? Tell me what’s on your list of specialties.”
Her blush deepens.
Decker walks up beside her. “Specialties?”
I glance at him, aiming a wicked grin and inclining my head toward Rayne. “I just invited you guys over to my house for dinner. I’m trying to find out what your mom cooks.”
Decker laughs. “Cooks? She makes peanut butter and jelly pretty good. And coffee.”
Swallowing my chuckle, I shake my head. “It’s okay, cooking is kind of what I do.”
Rayne huffs.
This time, my chuckle slips out. “Hey, Deck…how long do you think it’ll take before your mom lets me teach you how to wakeboard?”
Decker’s eyes are wide and hopeful. “Really?”
When I glance at Rayne, she’s gone slightly green and her eyes are wide. Easing the Moomba into my slip, I give her a reassuring smile. “We’ll take our time with that. But I’ll get you both on a board at some point.”
She gulps.
Scanning my wide-open great room, staring into the kitchen, my raw nerves force me to view my place in a whole new light. When I bought the Craftsman and remodeled it, I was newly out of the army and putting down roots in my hometown. Bachelor roots. I redid the house, knocking down walls and redoing the old hardwood floors, shining up the woodwork and adding paint to the walls. I hired a contractor to redo the kitchen, and everything in here gleams.
But is it good enough for a family?
I’m jumping ahead a few steps; I know that. Me and Rayne…we haven’t said anything about starting back up again. We haven’t even glossed over the subject. There might not be anything left there to build on. Even as that thought crosses my mind, I know it’s not true. We have a foundation, all right. We have chemistry, maybe more than we did as teenagers. The way my insides spark just from looking at her, the way my cock responds to her touch or her nearness…that’s no accident. There’s definitely something there.
There’s a soft knock at the door, followed by a more insistent pounding that jacks my heart rate up to stressed-the-fuck-out. Beside the big brick fireplace, Night lifts his head and barks. It’s deep and meant as a warning for me. My fingers snap toward him.
“Night. Stay.”
<
br /> I cross the great room into the front hall in just a few strides, flinging open the door to a smiling and bouncing Decker and a wary-looking Rayne.
I study her as I usher them in, shutting the door behind me. Her face is drained of color, and though she offers me a weak smile, it’s just that: weak. Holding my hand up to Decker to halt him, I release a low whistle.
Night comes trotting into the entryway, his nails clicking on the hardwood floors. Rayne tenses beside me, so I grab her hand. My other rests on Decker’s shoulder.
“Whoa! You have a dog! He’s huge! He’s so cool.” Decker’s appreciation for Night sends warm vibrations throughout my body.
Giving Rayne’s hand a quick, reassuring squeeze, I kneel beside Decker. “He’s friendly, buddy. But you need to show him right away that you’re the boss. Here…” Holding his hand, I flip it palm-up and direct it toward Night, who ambles forward and sniffs.
Decker chuckles while Night greedily pushes his big blocky head against his hand. “Is he your guard dog?”
I glance toward Rayne. “He can be. He acts on my command. He’s really well trained. Watch.”
Standing, I snap my fingers again and Night is at full attention. Bending my arm at the elbow and pulling it toward me, I leave it in an L-shaped position. Without a word from me, Night sits. I hold my hand out in a “halt” signal and back into the great room. Night follows me with his eyes, but his haunches stay rooted to the floor. Finally, when I’m standing by the fireplace I use a calm and commanding tone my dog is used to. “Come, Night.”
Night immediately trots over to stand beside me. Pulling a treat out of my pocket, I hold it out and let him take it from my hand.
“Awesome!” Decker exclaims. “He’s the best dog ever!”
I can’t help the beaming pride that radiates off of me. This kid is so impressive. Night is a 110-pound hulk of muscle and mayhem, intimidating to grown men. But Decker is staring at him with adoration in his eyes, like my dog is just a playful pup. “That’s just the start of what he can do. But you should know that once he gets to know you, he’ll protect you no matter what.”
Decker nods gravely, like I’ve just divulged a top clearance-level secret. Pointing toward Night’s basket of toys beside the fireplace hearth, I nudge Decker in that direction. “His favorite is his rope.”
As Decker lunges for the rope, Night’s tail wagging happily beside him; I cross back to the front door where Rayne still stands.
“You’re not afraid of dogs, are you?” I ask her in a low tone.
She shakes her head, glancing at the door. “N-no.”
Unable to keep from touching her, I rest my hands on her shoulders and peer into her face. “What’s wrong, darlin’?”
She glances at the door again. “I don’t know, Jeremy. As we walked from the car to the front of the house, I just felt like…I don’t know.” She shakes her head, frustration showing clearly in her features. “This creepy feeling came over me, like someone was watching me.”
I’m filled with cold, slithering dread as I move her away from the door. A sick feeling settles in my gut at the thought of her and Decker being watched walking to my front door. Every protective instinct I have jumps into gear, and I give her a push toward the great room where Decker and a playfully growling Night are tugging on the frayed, colorful rope.
“Stay with Decker,” I instruct her in a firm voice. “I’ll be right back.”
Striding to the entryway table, I slide open the drawer and retrieve my revolver. Making a mental note that I’m not going to be able to keep it there anymore, now that Decker will be a fixture at my house, I place my hand on the doorknob.
Rayne’s voice rises an octave. “What are you going to do?”
Glancing at her, I incline my head in Decker’s direction. “Shhh. Don’t wanna scare him, Rayne. I’m just gonna check things out, OK? I’ll be back in a minute. Go over there, with Night and Deck.”
Nodding with eyes full of apprehension, she obeys.
Good girl.
Soundlessly, I open the front door and slip outside into the balmy night.
The lighted front walk leads straight down to the sidewalk in front of the house. There’s a driveway to my right, leading around to the detached two-car garage, but as I scan the yard, I see nothing out of the ordinary. Keeping my weapon lowered but gripped securely in both hands, I move with a quickness down the front steps and into the grass beside the front walk.
I trust Rayne’s instincts. They’re what ensured our son entered the world safe and sound. I don’t know what she went through back in Phoenix—I’m counting on the fact she’ll trust me enough soon to fill me in. I still think there’s something she’s not telling me. But one thing’s for sure: she’s scared. And she has a reason to be. If her hackles rose out here on my turf, I’m gonna make damn sure whoever spooked her never does it again.
Sticking close to the front shrubbery and the shadows that cling there, I skirt my way to the corner of the house. Glancing around it to the side yard, I note nothing of interest there. The neighbor’s house is dark, probably out for the evening.
From my vantage point, there in the shrouded darkness of the yard, I scan the street again. I’m looking for anything that shouldn’t be there: a lurking stranger, a car that doesn’t belong, anything out of the ordinary would have me heading in that direction. The street seems clear until my eyes land on a lone figure walking at a slouched clip from behind the house directly across the street.
Every muscle inside me goes still as I watch the person. He’s dressed in dark clothing, and he’s too far away for me to see the direction of his gaze. When he makes it to the sidewalk on the other side of the road, he suddenly stops, and his gaze rivets toward my house.
“Motherfucker.” The curse is a whispered murmur, but his head whips in my direction anyway.
Stepping out of the shadows, I call out. “Stop right there, asshole.”
He freezes, a baseball cap pulled low over his face, right before he breaks into a sprint. Muttering a curse, I holster my gun in the back of my jeans and take off after him.
My body goes into autopilot. My shoes eat first grass, then pavement, and my gaze zeroes in on the suspect. His arms pump by his sides like he’s running from the Devil, and the way I’m feeling right now, it’s probably a good assumption.
I’m gaining on him, the rage burning through my veins and giving me the adrenaline rush that I don’t even need to outrun this guy. I push my legs faster, willing myself to end this now.
But then the bastard cuts a hard right, veering into the yard beside him. When I follow, I watch him disappear over a wooden fence. Then I hear the sound of the German shepherd who lives there barking like a mad hound.
Stopping, I suck in a deep breath and watch, but the man I was pursuing doesn’t return to the street.
Guess he decided to take his chances with the dog. Fuck!
I could go after him. But I don’t move. Goddammit. As much as I want to chase the fucker down and find out who he is and what he wants with Rayne, I know in my gut that leaving them right now would be a mistake.
As the man I want so badly to lock in a room and use every single interrogation method I’ve ever learned on him flees, something very clearly slides into place in my brain.
I have a family.
No matter what happens, it’s my job to protect them.
There’s no way I’m letting Rayne and Decker out of my sight until this game of cat and mouse is over.
13
Rayne
When Jeremy steps back in his front door, he holds a finger to his lips and points to his gun. Inclining his head toward Decker, I understand. He doesn’t want our son to see his gun, and he won’t be putting it back in the drawer where it was before. He disappears around a corner, and when he comes back his hands are empty.
I release a breath I’ve been holding since the second he walked out the door. I tried to smile for Decker, helping him play with the big, sw
eet dog, but my mind was outside with the man who insists on protecting me at every turn.
Why does he do it?
He’s a good man; that much is clear. But is that what drives him when it comes to my situation? I haven’t told him everything about it, yet he throws himself in front of me at every turn, every time he thinks there’s a threat. Is it just his protective nature?
The last thing I want to do is jump to conclusions when it comes to Jeremy. I don’t want to assume that just because he wants our son in his life he wants me, too. I don’t want to force him into having some kind of twisted relationship with me in order to spend time with our son.
I would never force him to do anything he didn’t want to do.
But does he know that? Is he protecting me out of some sort of obligation to the mother of his child? Or is it something more?
All of these questions are turning over and over in my mind, rippling like flags in a strong gust of wind, as Jeremy stops in the front hall and beckons me to join him.
With one last pat for Night, I glide toward him, pulled by my connection to him as much as by my desire to find out what happened outside.
“Did you see anyone?” My voice trembles slightly; I’m almost afraid of the answer. One private investigator following me on behalf of Wagner Horton was one thing. But feeling like I’m being shadowed wherever I go, like it’s not safe for Decker and I to leave the house…it’s unthinkable. Unbearable.
Jeremy’s expression is guarded as he watches me. “There was a man out there, Rayne. Watching. I think.”
My heart thumps harder in my chest, pounding out a distinct rhythm of fear. “You think?”
A frustrated noise rumbles in Jeremy’s throat as he drives a hand through his hair, hanging loose now around his shoulders. “He ran when I called out. I chased him for a few blocks, then I lost him. And then the thought of you and Decker in here alone…”