by Maggie Wells
“Stop,” she snapped.
He couldn’t. He clenched his fists at his sides and tried to take a calming breath. It was no good. He had no capacity for holding back on anything else. “I’ve licked you, Millie. I’ve licked and kissed and sucked every inch of you. I’ve been inside you. My dick, my tongue, my fingers… I’ve felt you come and come inside you. There aren’t enough condoms in the world to keep this from getting messy.”
“Then we need to end this now,” she said in a rush.
“Too late. I’m in love with you.”
The admission surprised him as much as it did her. Not because he hadn’t known, but because he figured it was way too early in the game to let her see his clutch play. But he had told her, and now the truth was out there, and he didn’t want to take the declaration back.
“No.”
The gleam in her eyes was the only thing that helped him believe her denial was an automatic response rather than a rejection. Millie Jensen wore the lean and hungry look of a woman who’d given up trusting in love but hadn’t quite let go of believing in it.
He let one shoulder rise and drop as if the bomb he’d dropped wasn’t atomic. Nothing to do but own his feelings for her now. “I love you, Mil. Started falling the day we met and have been ever since.”
When she didn’t take off for the door, he reached for her. His hands closed around the lean muscle of her upper arms, and he drew her closer. But not too close. He wanted her to have all the space she needed to absorb what he was telling her.
“The night you showed up at my door…” He looked up at the ceiling, trying to find exactly the right words to say. “God, I was happy to see you. So happy I should be ashamed, but I’m not. I felt like…” He hesitated to put his true feelings on the line, lest she misconstrue his meaning, but he was in this far already. No point in pulling up short of the goal. “Like I deserved you. I’d done my time. I tried, honestly tried, to make my marriage work, even though I knew there was no hope. It would have imploded one way or another. I didn’t want to be the bad guy.” He pressed his hand to his chest. “I was the one who asked her to marry me. I made the mistake. I was the one who was old enough to know better.”
Something in his speech seemed to plod her out of her shock. “But you married her anyway.”
“Mari was pregnant when we got married.”
“Oh.”
The word came out of her so soft and small he almost didn’t hear her. “She miscarried the week after we got back from Las Vegas.”
“Oh.”
“By that time…” He shrugged. “But I wanted a baby. I figured we’d try again, but Mari…”
“Right.”
Millie took a breath so deep it rattled through her. Then her whole body convulsed, and she wrenched herself from his grip. He thought she was bolting and started after her, but the second she hit the hall, she took a sharp right and headed toward the bedrooms rather than the door.
“Millie?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she clamped one hand to her mouth and the other to her stomach, curling into herself as she race-walked toward the guest bath. Seconds later, he heard the lid hit the back of the tank, and the unmistakable sound of retching carried down the hall. Concerned, Ty rushed to the doorway. He arrived in time to see her groping for the toilet paper holder, tears streaming from her eyes as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
Eager to be of some real assistance, he yanked the hand towel from the ring by the sink and pressed the soft cloth into her hand. “I’ll grab some water.”
He rushed to the kitchen to retrieve the bottle she’d never opened, but when he heard her vomiting again, he slowed his steps. As much as he wanted to be helpful, he knew no one liked an audience in these situations. Hanging back in the hall, he listened, his heart in his throat as she sniffled and blew her nose. He heard the flush and counted to three before swinging into the doorway.
“Here.” His knees popped as he squatted beside her, extending the bottle out to her.
She uncapped the water and took a sip without meeting his eyes. She drained half before lowering the bottle, but her gaze remained locked on the tile floor.
Needing to look into her eyes, he hooked his forefinger beneath her chin and gently tipped her face up. When she met his eyes at last, he forced a shaky smile. “Better?”
“Can’t hold my scotch,” she said solemnly.
Matching her somber tone, he nodded. “We all have that trouble at some point.”
Unable to restrain himself any longer, he wiped the mascara trails from her damp cheeks with the pad of his thumb. He’d never thought someone could still look beautiful when they cried, but Millie was proving to be the exception in so many areas of his life.
Her skin was the rich, velvety white of fresh cream. A rosy blush tinged her cheeks, and the tips of her ears were so pink they glowed. The contrast between the ripe, natural beauty of her face and the over-the-top shock of her hair suited her to perfection. Her eyes shone bright with banked tears, but the sheen only highlighted the sharp inquisitiveness in her all-seeing stare. This was the woman he’d started falling for years before he ought to.
“Was it the stuff about Mari that upset you or me saying I love you?” he asked quietly.
“Might have been the pizza,” she challenged.
Ty dipped his head, then gave it a slow shake. “Nope, can’t blame the food. You didn’t eat any.”
“Apparently, scotch doesn’t mix well with strawberry daiquiri.”
“What does?”
She sighed and scooted away enough to rest her back against the wall. Her eyes slid shut, and she let her head loll to the side, but still she answered. “Sunny days and warm sand.”
“Well, the sun has been out, but we’re pretty landlocked. Unless you count Lake Mason,” he added. “There’s a swimming beach.” He ran his hand through her tousled hair. “I’d take you.”
Though her eyes were already closed, she squeezed them tighter. “Please don’t.”
“Don’t what? Take you to the beach?”
“Touch me,” she whispered. “This will be so much harder if you touch me.”
He cupped her cheek in his palm. The pad of his ring finger traced the stubborn line of her jaw. “I don’t intend to make it easy for you to dump me, Millie.”
“You’re a good man, Ty. A nice man who always tries to do the right thing.” Her eyelashes fluttered, and she opened her eyes, blinking a couple of times to bring him into focus. “But I can’t give you what you want.”
“So you say, but I believe in you.”
“No, I literally can’t.” She knocked his hand away with a jerky wave of her arm. Before he could react, she scrambled to her feet using the wall as leverage. “You said you liked being married. Well, I didn’t.” Her hands clenched at her sides. “I’m not trying to be a jerk or to mess you around. I really like my life. I’m selfish. I don’t want to have to share my space or let someone make decisions for me.”
She stepped sideways, sliding along the wall, making it clear she wanted to get out of the room without any part of her touching any part of him. Ty stood up but otherwise didn’t move from his spot.
“I like sleeping all over the bed if I want. Sometimes I eat a bowl of cereal for dinner. Standing at the sink,” she added. As if her questionable meal choices might be a deal breaker. “I’m a crappy housekeeper.” He must have looked surprised by the revelation, because she rushed on, eager to convince him. “Seriously, I can live with my own filth for a long time.” She wrinkled her nose as she groped for the doorway. “I can’t tell you how long some of the salad dressings have been in my fridge. Do I throw them out?” She gave her head an adamant shake. “No, I toss a new bottle in with the old. They keep each other company.”
“I’m not looking for a maid, Millie.”
She w
aved him off. “I’m not anyone’s idea of a domestic partner.”
“I didn’t ask you to be mine.”
Millie threw her arms up as she backed into the hall. “You said you were in love with me.”
“I am.” He took a single step toward her, and she reeled back, holding her palms out to ward him off. He halted, but the panic in her eyes gave him all the confirmation he needed. She was as scared as he was. “I think you might fall for me too if you give yourself a chance. Maybe that’s why you’re freaking out.”
As expected, she planted her feet, squared her shoulders, and rose to the challenge. “I’m not freaking out.”
“You keep putting me off, then calling me back. You refuse to see me, then show up at my door.” He closed the distance between them but was careful not to touch her. “You keep saying no, but you keep doing things that say yes. You want to say yes. I know you do.” He lowered his head until he could feel the hot, moist puffs of her breath on his lips. His voice broke when he spoke. “I can almost taste your yes, Millie.”
“No.” She whispered the denial, but there was no heat behind it.
“I have to tell you, when you say it like that, it sounds more like a ‘yes, please.’ But I know what no means.” He took a half step back but no more.
A breathless laugh escaped her, but Millie only lifted her chin a millimeter more and said nothing.
“I wish you could see the expression on your face, Millie. Your eyes tell me everything.”
“Do they?” She wet her lips. “And what do you think they’re saying?”
“Please don’t give up on me, Ty,” he said in a low, taunting voice. “Please keep chasing me. Please kiss me. Fuck me. Love me.” Her breath hitched on the last one. “And I want to.” He took her hand and pressed her palm to the front of his shorts. He was hard as a rock and ready to roll here and now. Up against the wall. All she had to do was say the word. “All you have to do is tell me what you want, Millie. Say anything, and I’ll give you everything.”
“Ty, I can’t give you a baby,” she blurted, throwing her hands up in frustration.
He opened his mouth, but whatever he was about to say was chased clear out of his head by a jarring blast from his cell phone.
“Goddamn it!” he growled, pushing away from the wall and yanking the offending instrument from his pocket with every intention of smashing the phone into a thousand pieces. He almost did when he saw his ex-wife’s smiling face beaming out from the screen.
Millie saw the photo too and took the opportunity to put some space between them. Sidling a couple of steps down the hall, she gestured to the phone. “She’s been calling and calling. Why don’t you find out what she wants?”
Steaming with anger and pent-up frustration, he leveled a finger at her. “Stay.”
She flipped an entirely different finger back at him, but she didn’t make a break for the door.
Keeping a wary eye on her, he swiped his thumb across the display to accept the call and snapped a gruff, “What?”
“Ty?”
He rolled his eyes, the sound of Mari’s voice screeching down his spine like fingernails on a chalkboard. “Yeah. What? What do you want, Mari?”
“I want to talk to you. I need to talk to you.”
“There’s nothing more to say.”
“But it’s important,” she insisted. “Can we meet somewhere?”
He blinked, confused by the request. The last he’d heard, his ex was shacked up in Los Angeles with her boy toy. “Meet? How? Aren’t you in California?”
“I’m here. In town, I mean.”
Millie took a step back, her eyes narrowing enough to let him know she’d heard Mari’s answer and was wary too. Annoyed by both the intrusion and the stricken look on Millie’s face, he hit the button to send the call to speaker. He had nothing to hide, and he’d be damned if he’d let the stubborn woman standing outside of arm’s reach slip away because she imagined something might be going on between him and his ex.
“Sorry if you came all this way to talk to me, but I really don’t have anything more to say. You got what you wanted, Mari. Now I’m trying to move on with my life.”
“But this isn’t what I wanted,” she wailed. Impatient and unwilling to be drawn into whatever melodrama Mari had created for herself, his thumb hovered over the button to disconnect. He was about to say goodbye when she hissed, “You’re the one who wanted a baby.”
“A baby?” The question popped out of his mouth, but he stared at the glossy screen as if the image might tell him he’d misunderstood what she’d said. His head jerked up, and he spotted Millie standing at almost military attention.
“I’m pregnant,” Mari snapped.
Her announcement startled him so much the phone spurted from his hand and clattered to the floor, but they both still heard her last words clear as a bell. “And the baby is yours.”
Chapter 16
Millie knew hearing Mari claim she was pregnant should have sent her running for the door. But it didn’t. She should be clocking record time booking it to her car. But she wasn’t. Because this was what she was made for—crisis control.
She remained standing in Ty’s house, her eyes locked on him. He was shocked into stillness, his fingers frozen in a classic horror movie curl. His stillness scared her. This wasn’t the calm, happy Ty she’d come to know. This stillness had a sinister feel.
She needed to break the spell, do something, anything, to disrupt the horrible tableau they seemed to be trapped in. Stark panic drew Ty’s handsome features tight. Every line and groove screamed the need for help. Her help.
“Ty,” she whispered urgently enough to jolt him into looking at her.
His eyes met hers, but they were clouded with confusion. Raising her hand to eye level, she ignored the wheedling calls for attention coming from the now-forgotten phone. Taking a cautious step toward him, she popped up one finger. Then another. At the third, she raised an inquiring eyebrow.
“Is it possible?” she asked with a quiet calm that was the polar opposite of the upheaval roiling inside her.
“Huh?”
She closed the rest of the space between them, gently resting her hand on his chest to reassure him. His heart thrummed against her palm. Holding his gaze, she leaned in close. “Think back. You haven’t seen her in more than two months, right?”
He blinked, and she decided to take his nonanswer as a yes. His blank expression set hope and wariness to war in her chest.
“Ask her how far along she is,” she prompted.
Ty cocked his head as if she’d suddenly started speaking Hungarian. “What?”
This was her turf—a problem. Something that could be spun, if not fixed. “How pregnant is she? People don’t have to wait three months or more to find out if they are anymore.” Anyone who watched daytime programming knew medical testing had advanced enough that she could pee on a stick within days of missing her period. “If you haven’t been with her since things blew up, then we’re looking at more than two months. Three if things were rocky between the two of you before she actually left.”
“Tyrell!” Mari’s shrill demand burst the bubble.
They both looked at the abandoned phone. Mari’s contact picture beamed up at them from the floor.
Millie lunged past him to retrieve the phone. “Ask her.”
She gripped the case tightly enough to disguise the tremors running through her. Adrenaline. Fear. And yes, a spark. Millie loved a challenge. If Mari thought she could get Ty back by playing the pregnancy card again, she’d have a bigger fight on her hands this time.
Ty took the phone from her and held it in his palm between them. “How pregnant?”
“Who is that? Who’s there? What do you mean, how?” Mari asked, exasperated. “The usual way.”
Millie rolled her eyes, then nodded and circle
d her hand, prompting him to press her.
“How many months?” he clarified.
“Three,” Mari answered without hesitation.
Her heart somersaulted in her chest, but Millie held steady. For her own sake as much as his. She couldn’t fall apart. Wouldn’t. At least not as long as she could focus on fixing him. She stared hard into his eyes, searching for the truth. All she found was a man who appeared to be completely lost. And more than a bit worried.
Choking down her pride, she tapped the screen to mute the phone. “Don’t say anything now. Tell her you need to think and you’ll call her back.”
“Call her back?”
“Give yourself a few minutes to process. She’s trying to psych you out. Hit you hard and knock you off-kilter.”
“Psych me out?”
“Get you to admit something, agree to anything.” She gave his arm a gentle squeeze, then shook him to be sure she had his attention. “Take some time. Think it through.”
“Ty, we need to get some things settled,” Mari insisted.
“No. Not now,” Millie said firmly. He gazed down at her, his heart in his eyes. “You’ll call her back.” She relieved him of the phone and ended the call without allowing one more word.
They stood facing one another, eyes locked, breathing perfectly in sync, their bodies swaying in the maelstrom of emotion swirling around them.
“You’re okay.” The words came to her reflexively. Ty blinked, then swallowed as if they were precisely the medicine he needed. Smiling a reassuring smile, she slipped the phone into his pocket and gave it a pat. “These shorts are a crime against mankind.”
“Millie—”
She pressed a fingertip to his lips to silence him. “Shh. Stop. Breathe. We’re okay.”
He gave his head an incredulous shake. “How can we be okay?” The crack in his voice put a pretty good-sized one in the shell around her heart. “She can’t be… She can’t do this.”
Taking his hand, she started back toward the kitchen. Hard to believe that a few minutes ago, this man seemed like the biggest threat to her happiness. Now, she knew better. Adding presumption to the list of lessons learned, she swore off scotch chasers for the foreseeable forever and vowed to herself she’d get her head and her heart straight. No more messing around. The push-me-pull-you game was over. From this point on, she needed to choose. In or out. And if she wanted to be in, she’d have to go all in.