But when she rolled to her back and scooted under the car, suddenly she realized how close the quarters were. They lay shoulder to shoulder as he used his impressive arm muscles to work at what seemed to be a stubborn bolt.
“This is the oil pan,” he said, voice strained.
“What are we doing with it?”
“The old oil has to be drained out before the new can be put in.”
She eyed what he’d called the oil pan. “I’m guessing putting it in from down here would be tricky.”
A quick slash of white grin. “A little,” he drawled.
“So…?”
He grunted as he put extra muscle into the wrench. “All right, you—” He stopped mid-curse and cleared his throat. “I mean, that bolt was really stuck.”
“I won’t faint at a little swearing.” Her ex was fluent in profanity.
“You’re a lady.”
She was so stunned at the notion that it took her a minute to respond. “Not really.” She held up her hands with their short nails and no polish. “These aren’t lady hands. I’ve always had to work hard. Hard work doesn’t scare me.” She turned her head to meet his gaze. “And neither does a curse here and there, when it’s called for.”
His skepticism showed, but he didn’t argue. “Can you get that plastic pan over closer to me? And scoot away some, so you don’t get splashed?”
She complied, then watched him center the pan beneath the bolt.
“Watch out,” he warned, then scooted away himself, but still close enough to reach the bolt. With one quick twist of his wrist, he pulled out the plug, then oil came pouring out.
She watched the oil—until she felt his eyes on her.
She couldn’t see anything else but him.
Abruptly the oil slowed to a thin stream, then to individual drops. Tank skillfully replaced the plug and bolted it back down. “Okay, let’s get out from under here. You first.”
She complied, thinking of how she’d have to wash her hair before she went to bed. Mechanic work was dirty business.
She remained sitting on her heels as he emerged from beneath the car, towing the pan with him.
Then he rose to sitting beside her, their knees nearly touching.
Their eyes locked, and she wondered if he could see the worlds of interest in hers.
He went silent and still.
She leaned in, rose a little as she got close.
“Chrissy, don’t.” His voice was strained.
“They’re wrong,” she whispered.
“They’re not. I’ve been that bastard they warned you against.”
“Maybe before,” she said with more calm assurance than she could credit. “But not with me.” She hesitated. “I’m not afraid of you, but just so you know, if anyone ever tried to hurt my children, I’d kill them.”
“You’re too small.”
“But I’m mighty.”
His unexpected grin broke the trance. “That you are, I’m beginning to realize.” Quickly he rose to his feet and held out his hand to help her stand.
The touch rattled her. Rattled him, she thought. He went still again and took a step back.
“Tank…”
He shook his head and turned away. “So the next step in the process is…”
She missed half the words as she puzzled over whether he just wasn’t interested or—
Quick nerves sparked even as he lectured in a smooth tone.
He was nervous. Why?
Then she smiled at herself. She could make a man nervous?
“You find oil filters funny?” he asked.
“What? Oh—uh, no. I mean, cars need them, right?”
Amusement and chagrin warred. “You weren’t listening.”
“I’m sorry. Can we start over?”
“Do I want to know what you were thinking?”
She smiled brightly this time. “Probably not.” Then she accepted that he wasn’t ready. Maybe she wasn’t either—but she was definitely intrigued. She heaved a deep breath. “Okay, so after the oil is drained, the plug goes back in and then…let me guess. You replace the oil, yes?”
His smile was genuine amusement then. “Right. But where do you put it?”
She grimaced and looked over. “Um…”
“Okay, focus.” And he started again.
This time she listened.
Well, mostly.
He’d tried to refuse the food she’d saved, but his stomach growling had betrayed him.
“This is great,” he said. “You’re a good cook.”
“Not really. My sister is fantastic. Maybe even Scarlett and Ruby kind of good.”
“Don’t sell yourself short.”
“Just simple food. Man food, mixed with some kid food.”
He glanced down at his nearly-empty plate. “Which is which?” He didn’t know that much about kids, and when he’d been one, they ate what was put in front of them. Or else.
“Meat loaf is man food. Mac and cheese is kid food.”
“Guess I’m part kid. I like mac and cheese. I always get it when Ruby has it on the menu.”
“You need a lot of fuel to keep going, I bet. All that muscle to power.” The look in her eyes was admiring.
He ducked his head. Not that he wasn’t pleased.
Time to change the topic. “So where does your sister live?”
“Austin.”
“She own a restaurant, too?”
“No, but she’d be good at it. She’s a doctor’s wife—not that she’s stuck up or anything. She’s a really good person. The star of the family. Everyone loves her, and she raised three amazing kids.”
“Yours are pretty amazing.”
She smiled. “They are, aren’t they? I don’t know why. I’m the family screw-up.”
“I would have given anything for a mom like you,” he said before he stopped himself. He tensed, waiting for questions.
But she went still, wonder on her face. “You think so? Really?” Her glow dimmed. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes.”
“Their dad one of them?”
“The worst.” Her features hardened. “When he drank…let’s just say I had to get them out of there. It was one thing to go after me, but no one hurts my kids.”
They were the luckiest kids in the world. What he wouldn’t have given for a fierce mother like her. But all he said was, “That’s good. Good for you.” A thought occurred. “Is he a problem?”
“I don’t even know where he is now. And good riddance.”
Still, he’d keep an eye peeled. “He wouldn’t try to find you?”
“He’d better not. I don’t have any money to give him, anyway.” She shook her head. “A total deadbeat, and one with a temper. Boy, can I pick them.” She busied herself at the sink. “Anyway, want some more?”
“Is there more?”
“Not of that, but Ruby sent a pie home with me. She was upset, she and the others, that they hadn’t helped me move. Like I could expect that.” She walked back, pie in hand. “It’s pecan. Ruby makes the best I ever had.”
“She does at that.” As he watched her cut a huge piece. “They would have, you know. Helped you. If they’d heard you were moving, you’d have had more help than you’d know what to do with.”
“Why?”
“It’s Sweetgrass.” A shrug.
“I love this place,” she sighed. “I want so much to make it work out here. My kids deserve it.”
The stark longing on her features reached right in and grabbed his heart. “Then don’t be seen with me. That won’t help you.”
“I don’t believe that.”
He snorted. “You already heard different. I could tell when I saw you.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he shook his head. “It’s okay. They’re right. I’m not…you shouldn’t be doing this.” He started to rise. “I should go.”
She pushed his shoulder down with surprising strength. “You sit right down and eat your pie. I’m not taking no fo
r an answer.”
“Don’t be soft around me,” he said quietly, not meeting her eyes. “I’m a bad bet.”
That same small hand brushed his shoulder before she moved away and busied herself covering the pie and washing up at the sink. “We’ll see.”
Yeah. I’m afraid you will.
But he didn’t say anymore, only ate his pie and vowed to leave as soon as he was done.
She followed him to the door, however. “One meal is not enough of a thank you.”
“This is the second,” he pointed out.
She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. You saved me. Literally. I don’t know how to repay you.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“See? You’re a good guy.”
As much as he longed to savor those words, he couldn’t let her go on believing that. “I’m not, Chrissy. There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“Then tell me.”
He should. He should lay out every single sin, so she’d be frightened away from him for good.
But before he could open his mouth, she went to tiptoe, balancing herself with one hand to his chest. “I’m not afraid of you, Tank. Don’t run from me.”
“I have to,” he began.
She didn’t wait for him to explain. Her soft breasts brushed his chest, and her sweet lips pressed against his cheek, then slid gently to his mouth.
When she pulled back and looked up into his eyes, he wanted to hold her so badly, just grab her and wrap her close and inhale her sweetness…and never let her go.
It was the hardest thing he’d ever done to restrain his hands to his sides, clenched in tight fists to keep his fingers from seizing her and all the goodness her small body contained.
But he managed. Barely. “Don’t do that again.” He backed away, turned and pushed at the screen door, then stepped outside.
“I don’t take orders very well,” she said.
When he couldn’t keep himself from looking back, he saw defiance and hurt and sorrow.
“I’m a bad bet, Chrissy. You deserve better.”
“Tank—”
He got the hell out. While he still could.
Jake jittered his knee at stoplights. Tapped the steering wheel. Drove like a maniac down the freeway, gripped by dread.
She wouldn’t. She loved him. He loved her. They were two halves of one whole, had been for years. She’d never given him any reason to worry about her devotion—
I thought we could go to Fredericksburg this weekend. Check out the shops, stay in a B&B, the way we used to. Do a little Christmas shopping. Her eyes, so huge and green and beautiful. Hopeful.
I’m on call.
A frown marring her lovely face. You were on call last weekend, and the one before.
Davis needed someone to help him out. They have that new baby.
You’re exhausted, Jake. You have to have a break.
I’m fine, babe. We’ll go on my next free weekend, okay?
A quick swivel of her head, but not before her disappointment registered. Sure. She’d continued cleaning the kitchen. He’d left for the hospital.
That had been how long ago? He attempted to calculate back, but the days and weeks melted together. He’d meant to make good on his promise, but one of the kids had returned from school, then there’d been the holidays…
Images of guttered candles and dinner gone stone-cold.
The cook ran off to join the circus.
Here. Thought you might need this.
“She’ll be there,” he muttered. “I’ll explain. I’ll clean up. Take her out to dinner.” Though he was having trouble putting one foot in front of the other.
At last, he wheeled into his drive and hit the garage door opener button, willing her car to be inside.
But only emptiness greeted him.
Damn it, Laura. Okay, so you’re angry. I don’t blame you. She had a temper, but it flared and died just as fast. He’d busy himself clearing the mess, then catch a shower while he was waiting for her to arrive.
He walked into the kitchen, the silence deep and hollow. Barren. He thought about how seldom he’d entered their home—any home they’d occupied—without Laura there, waiting for him. However harried she might be by the demands of family, the carpools, school plays, homework assignments, dinner parties, holidays—by some magic, she reigned at the center of their universe, a queen in blue jeans and sneakers who made it look easy. Who might blow her stack now and again, but who surrounded them with the knowledge that they were cherished. That comfort was to be had at any moment.
That they were safe, all of them, secure in her love.
Here he was in the heart of her domain, the kitchen, and he felt her absence keenly. Home was just a building without her in it.
Dread curdled in his gut as he made his way to the dining room, predictably ordered and sparkling despite his promise to deal with the debris.
The roses—his roses—stood in the center, lush and gorgeous—
And wrong. So wrong. Stella had nailed it. Roses were a cliché, however profuse their number, and they were not Laura at all. She was a unique mix of exotic and down to earth—she’d like bird of paradise mixed with geraniums. Daisies and bluebells. A fistful of wildflowers he’d picked himself.
Jake stood in the framed opening and pictured her face when the roses had arrived. Surrounded by the remains of a meant-to-be-special dinner she’d labored over.
Heard her voice in his head.
You’re working too hard.
Could you take some time off?
We’re not getting any younger, Jake.
The words had been a fly’s pesky buzz he’d flicked away. What he was doing was crucial—didn’t she get that?
I miss you.
More serious than that?
He detoured to the backyard. He’d play with Puddin’ for a while since he’d barely seen the dog in days. Then he’d shower and be ready when Laura returned. He’d phone in sick and spend the next two days in bed with her.
He whistled for his dog. Clapped his hands and called out, “Puddin’, come on, buddy. Let’s throw the ball.”
But the dog was gone, too.
Still he clung to hope as he raced up the stairs, yanked open the closet, pored through her dresser drawers, scanned the vanity in their bathroom.
Got hopping mad at first. Laura, why the hell didn’t you hang around? Talk to me?
I miss you.
She’d talked, all right.
He just hadn’t been listening.
Jake sank to the bed, head in hands. He had to think, to figure out where she might be. He’d follow and plead his case. He’d make her understand that he was sorry.
Man, what a day. He sagged back. Just for a minute, he thought. Only to clear my head.
His eyes drifted shut.
Seconds later, he was out.
Chapter Six
Ian paused in the doorway of the NICU, watching Scarlett cradle Georgia in her arms. There was such love, such absolute rapture on her face that his eyes teared up.
There they were, his life, his treasure, his future. He would kill to keep them safe.
What they’d all been through still shook him to his marrow, how close he’d come to losing them both. A few more minutes without help, a long travel time to get to Austin—
He must have made a sound because Scarlett’s head came up suddenly.
As always, her face changed when she saw him, her love for him casting light into his darkness. “Hi.” She smiled.
He could do nothing but smile back. “You look like a Madonna and child.”
“Well, I think we both know there’s nothing virginal or saintly about me, but oh, Ian, isn’t she amazing? This face…” Her finger traced the contours of the baby’s cheek, and he couldn’t be apart from them any longer.
He stood by the bed, holding Scarlett to him with one hand while he brushed the other over Georgia’s glossy raven curls. He couldn’t speak for the lov
e that filled him to overflowing. He settled on the bed beside the woman who’d transformed his life and brought her close. “I love you so much,” he finally managed. “How come there aren’t better words?”
She glanced up, her own eyes swimming. “Those are pretty great. Here—Georgia’s been asking for her daddy.”
Ian took her, as always astonished at how such a tiny being could have moved into his heart and somehow gripped the whole thing in one tiny fist.
Yet the powerful love he felt for her didn’t diminish his love for Scarlett even a fraction. Somehow he found he possessed an even greater store to give. He pressed a kiss to the forehead slightly puckered in sleep, Georgia’s tiny rosebud mouth smacking a little as if ready for another feast.
“I just want to sit here all day and stare at her. Hold her and do nothing else,” Scarlett said, finally dragging her gaze from their precious baby. “Except lie in your arms. Could we do that? Just hole up somewhere, the three of us? Let the rest of the world go to blazes?”
Ian grinned. “Might have to stir ourselves to eat and such.”
Then Georgia’s blue eyes opened, and she watched him gravely as if she had more to tell him than he could imagine. “She always looks like she knows things we don’t. As if only she could talk, she could explain the whole world to me.”
“Maybe she could. Heaven knows I have questions of my own.” Worry rippled over Scarlett’s forehead. “No one will discuss the café with me. Is everything all right?”
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you about that.” At that moment, Georgia’s face twisted up, and she uttered a small cry he was beginning to recognize only too well. He handed her over for the part of her care he couldn’t do himself.
He was getting pretty good with those tiny diapers, though.
“About what? What’s wrong?” Scarlett asked as she opened her gown and settled Georgia at her breast.
Ian lost the power of speech at the sight of the body he’d loved so often, had caressed and cherished and been driven half-mad with lust over, now providing nourishment for the child born of that love. “It’s a kind of miracle, isn’t it?”
Scarlett looked up. “What?”
“I’ve raised all kinds of mothers and babies of other species, dealt with nursing mothers all my life, but it was never the miracle that this is. God, I love you.”
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