For a moment, she seemed to agree. At least in bed. Which made him wonder. “So, now that your curiosity about my sexual prowess has been satisfied...?” He fished around for a little more information.
“I realize you are talented in many areas.”
He laughed, as she’d meant him to.
The impishness in her gaze faded. She touched his wrist in a way that felt like goodbye. Slowly met his eyes. “Seriously. I’m sorry if I took advantage of you.”
He shrugged and caught her hand with his. “I think it was mutual.”
She disengaged their palms, stepped back, all professional scandal manager. “In any case, it won’t happen again.”
His gaze drifted over her lazily. “You really don’t think so?” Because if it were up to him, it would.
Her conflicted attitude faded as fast as it had appeared. She walked out into the kitchen, poured herself a glass of milk. “I get that we had fun here, Garrett. But I have a job to do. That has to take precedence.”
He helped himself to a bottle of water, took a long thirsty drink, before promising, “I won’t interfere with that.”
He could see she didn’t believe him. But she had stopped trying to run away. Garrett decided to try another tack. He leaned back against the counter. “Did you ever see When Harry Met Sally?”
Hope stopped in mid-sip. “One of the greatest romantic comedies of all time? Ah, yeah, about a million times when I was growing up.” She lounged opposite him, a curious expression on her face.
“Well, so did Sage.”
Understanding dawned. “Which meant you watched it a lot, too.”
Way too many times. Or so he’d thought then. Later, he had realized what valuable information the movie contained about the differences between the sexes when it came to dating and relationships.
“You know those little vignettes that were woven throughout, about how couples met each other?” he continued.
“And fell in love?” Finishing her milk, she sighed in wistful appreciation. “They were all so funny and unique. And real.”
And she deserved even more than that. “Well, this is our story, Hope.” He took her glass, put it aside and drew her back into his arms. “And one day soon, maybe even today, you’ll look back and see our initial hookup was even more original than any of those.”
She splayed her hands across his chest. “You’re sure that’s all this is? A hookup?”
He rubbed the pad of his thumb across the softness of her cheek. “Would it make you feel better if it were?”
She hesitated, but just for a millisecond. “Between work and Max, it’s really all I have room for in my life right now.”
He could understand that. What she didn’t know was that she wouldn’t be this busy—or conflicted—forever. He lowered his mouth to hers, fibbed, “Then that’s what it is.”
And before she could argue further, he made love to her again.
* * *
HOPE NEVER MEANT to fall asleep. She meant to get up out of the bed after they’d made sweet, wonderful love the second time. But the next thing she knew late afternoon sunlight was streaming in through the windows and she heard her son gurgling happily.
She glanced at her watch. Realizing it had been a good seven hours since she had fed Max last, she threw back the covers, wrapped a sheet around herself and headed for her bedroom.
The port-a-crib was empty.
The laughter, however, continued. This time with Garrett joining in.
Hope exchanged the sheet for her robe and followed the sound.
Garrett was slouched on the big U-shaped bunkhouse sofa, his back to her, Max held upright against his chest. Plump little arms out in front of him, as if he were doing push-ups, Max was staring up at Garrett, enthralled.
“See here’s the thing about women,” Garrett was telling Max. “You always got to treat ’em right. I know, I know,” he replied, after another spurt of baby talk from Max, “you think you’re too young to be thinking about all this, but trust me, there will come a day, and that’s all you’ll be thinking about...”
Max gurgled again, then let out an astonishingly loud burp.
Hope couldn’t help it, she laughed, right along with Garrett.
He turned in surprise. “Did we wake you?”
“I think the bigger question is,” she murmured, joining him on the sofa, “why didn’t you get me?” She nodded at the empty bottle of formula on the coffee table. “I would have fed him.”
“I know. I thought it might be better for you to get some sleep.”
Garrett was probably right, given the fact that her breasts still only felt half full. It would be at least another hour, if not more, before she was ready to nurse her son again.
She kissed the tuft of blond hair on the top of Max’s head. Though normally he reached for Hope, insisting that his mommy hold him, this time her son seemed remarkably content just where he was. “How long has he been up?”
Garrett grinned as Max continued to do vertical baby push-ups against his chest. “A couple of hours.”
Hope did a double take.
Garrett slanted her a glance. “He hasn’t seemed to want to go back to sleep.”
She wouldn’t either, if Garrett were holding her like that in his big, strong arms and turning on the charm.
Hope snuggled closer, wanting to join in the fun. “What have you two been doing?”
“Well, first he had a bottle of formula, then a clean diaper change, then we went out back and sat on the glider for a while. But it got kind of hot, so we came in to the air conditioning. And we lay on a blanket on the floor for a while, and he showed me all his toys and rattles. And then we sat in a chair...and then you came in...”
“Wow.”
“I know,” Garrett acknowledged solemnly. “Max and I have had a very busy afternoon.”
She peered at him facetiously. “You sure you don’t want a job filling in for a British nanny on an emergency basis?”
Rubbing a hand across his freshly shaven jaw, he pretended to consider it. Finally he asked, with a teasing leer, “Does it come with fringe benefits?”
Hope groaned facetiously. She slapped a hand across her heart as if the mere idea were an insult. “Captain Lockhart!”
“Uh-oh, buddy.” Garrett winked at Max. “She’s using my rank and surname. Guess we better rein in the loose talk.”
No kidding, Hope thought. Otherwise he’d have her back in bed with him before she knew what had happened.
Garrett turned to her, his mood as lively as her son’s.
Hope could see Garrett had already had a shower and dressed in clean clothes. Suddenly, she yearned for the same. “I hate to ask...”
He read her mind. “Take your time.”
Hope tried not to wonder what would happen if Garrett continued being this good with Max, and this sexy and appealing, and ultraprotective. “You sure?”
“Yep. I could use the practice.”
Once again caught unawares, Hope queried, “For...?”
Garrett shrugged happily. “When I have kids.”
* * *
SEVERAL HOURS LATER, her shower completed—and vastly enjoyed—numerous media requests and inquiries regarding the scandal all answered and Max down for another nap, Hope joined Garrett in the kitchen, where he was already making dinner.
She watched him prick two russet potatoes with a fork, coat them with olive oil and sea salt and wrap them in foil. “Did you mean what you said about wanting a family?”
“It’s why I haven’t already accepted the job at Walter Reed in Bethesda.”
She took a seat on the other side of the breakfast bar. “Because it means reenlisting.”
He slid the potatoes into the oven to bake. “And reenlistin
g means my orders could change at any time. I’d be sent where they need me. As a single guy, with no responsibilities to anyone other than myself, I’ve been happy to comply. As a family man, I’d want more control.”
Hope had never realized just how tantalizing it was to see a man in the kitchen—until now. Or just how much she had come to enjoy just being with him. “Is that why you haven’t married? Because you were on active-duty military?”
“Actually, I was going to get married a few years ago.”
Something in her went very still.
It shouldn’t have been a surprise. And yet it was. “What happened?”
Garrett poured olive oil and lime juice into a glass baking dish then chopped up fresh oregano, garlic and cilantro and added them, as well. A sprinkling of dried chili powder and cumin followed.
“I discovered there are two kinds of women who don’t mind their mates being away for long periods of time.” He paused to look her in the eye. “Those who are truly devoted to their men and understand the patriotic need to serve one’s country. And those who want the respectability and stability of an official relationship, while still enjoying plenty of time and freedom to pursue other romantic interests.”
Ouch.
The sting of betrayal came and went in his eyes.
Heart going out to him, she said, “I’m guessing your engagement fell into the latter category.”
He added a slab of flank steak to the aromatic marinade in the glass dish. “You would guess right.” He turned to wash his hands.
“Care to be more specific?”
His shoulders tensed. “My ex is Leanne Sharp.”
“Chief of staff of Congressman Jared Thiessen?”
His eyes narrowed. “You know her?”
“I know of her.” She was a gorgeous, ambitious Southern belle, from a very well-connected and wealthy Dallas family. Just imagining her with Garrett conjured up a stab of jealousy, which was, Hope knew, completely uncalled for. Whatever they had shared was a one-time thing.
“In my previous job I had a lot of dealings with politicians.”
His mouth thinned. “Thiessen?”
“One of his colleagues—Len Miller—had a pretty messy divorce. We enlisted Thiessen, who’s public reputation is stellar, to vouch for my client’s trustworthiness.”
Garrett’s expression darkened. “I remember that. You-all spun Miller’s infidelity as a domestic dispute, a symptom of the problems in the Miller marriage, instead of the problem.”
Which had been true, as far as Hope could discern, anyway. “Len Miller still lost his next election, but I think that had more to do with his voting record, or lack thereof, than his infidelity.”
Garrett chuckled grimly, shook his head.
Hope wanted to be let in on the joke. “What?”
His mouth tightening, Garrett turned to get a beer from the fridge. He twisted off the cap, took a swig. “I just find it ironic that you would use Jared Thiessen as a moral barometer and character reference.”
“Why?” Hope got up to help herself to another glass of milk. Deciding to live dangerously, she stirred some chocolate syrup into it. “Jared’s got a great reputation as a family man. Plus, he has won eight straight elections.”
Garrett went still.
Hope waited.
Finally, eyes level, he said, “Congressman Jared Thiessen is the love of Leanne’s life. She only got involved with me as cover for her affair with him.”
Oh, my God. Hope shared his devastation. “How did you find out?”
Garrett began to slice zucchini and yellow squash. “Usual way. Stumbled on some racy texts on Leanne’s phone when she asked me to look up our dinner reservations while she put on her makeup.”
“That must have been unpleasant.” Not to mention careless on his ex’s part.
“You’d think that would have been rock bottom.” He reached for a couple of carrots and sliced them on the diagonal, added them to the sauté pan.
“It wasn’t?”
He turned the heat up beneath the veggies. “She asked me to lie about why we broke up.”
“And did you?”
Garrett’s face remained implacable. “I saw no reason to hurt his wife and kids. They were innocent and he was a public figure. Had it become known, it would have been all over the news, and the kids would have been devastated.”
“So you kept quiet.”
Garrett inhaled sharply. “Reluctantly, but yeah.”
“Which is why you hate scandal management.”
He pinned her with his hard blue gaze. “I hate any hiding of the truth.”
* * *
HOPE UNDERSTOOD. HE’D BEEN caught in an impossible situation. Still was, in certain respects. His honor was one of the things she loved most about him. “I’m sorry you went through all that.”
He snorted in derision. “Live and learn.”
Needing to comfort him, she closed the distance between them. Started to reach for him. A knock sounded at the door.
Hope sighed.
He lifted a brow. “Expecting someone?”
“No. Although Lucille texted me earlier and said your brothers might drop by later.”
“Doubtful,” Garrett said. “At least for tonight. I heard from them, too. Wyatt has a mare in extended labor. Chance is in the midst of re-homing a couple of his prime bulls.”
Hope put her hands on her hips. “Well, then.”
“I know.” Garrett grinned, his usual good humor returning as he strode for the bunkhouse entrance. “I just don’t rate.” He opened the door.
Darcy Dunlop stood on the other side, a covered dish in hand, a pinched look on her thin face. “Is this a bad time?”
“Not at all.” Immediately compassionate, Garrett ushered her in.
Hope smiled. “Hi, Darcy.”
“Hi.”
“Tank okay?” Garrett asked.
“That’s why I came over. To talk to you and give you this.” She took the top off the most delicious-looking berry crisp Hope had ever seen. “As a thank-you for helping us out the other night.”
“No problem.” Garrett looked past her. “I see you got your pickup running again.”
“Yeah,” Darcy replied nervously. “Smitty’s repair shop does a great job.”
Garrett gestured for her to have a seat at the counter. “So, what’s going on?”
“Tank has stopped going to his physical therapy sessions in town. He was hit or miss before, but this week he’s refusing to go at all.”
Garrett warned, “He’s not going to regain full range of motion with that leg unless he does the work.”
“I know,” Darcy said sadly. “The physical therapists have all told him that.”
“Then...?”
“I think he’s starting to give up on thinking things are ever going to get better,” Darcy admitted hoarsely. “Anyway, I was wondering, do you think you could come by and talk to him? You were able to make him see reason the other night...” Darcy broke off, tearing up. “If you could do it again...”
“Where is Tank now?” Garrett asked gently.
“Home. His parents went to visit family so we’d have the house to ourselves for a week or so. They thought it would help. But so far, it’s just not.” Her lower lip trembling, she slid off the stool and backed up. “But I can see I’m interrupting you-all’s dinner plans. I should have called first.”
If there was one thing Hope knew, it was a person in distress. Crises like this called for immediate action. She looked at Garrett, letting him know with a glance their evening together could wait. He nodded in wordless agreement. Putting a big arm around Darcy’s thin shoulders, he said, “Why don’t we go see Tank right now.”
“You’re s-s-sure?”
Garrett nodded.
“Actually,” Hope said, “it’s a really good time.”
Thanks, Garrett mouthed.
He got out the keys for his pickup truck and patted his cell phone. “Call me if you need anything.”
She noted he did not promise when he’d be back.
“Will do.” She flashed another smile.
Garrett and Darcy left.
Hope finished sautéing the veggies, grilled the marinated flank steak and removed the perfectly baked potatoes from the oven. Although she would have liked to wait for Garrett to return to eat, the fact that she was nursing and still trying to get her milk supply back up dictated otherwise.
So she ate in silence.
Did the dishes.
Nursed Max when he woke up and gave him his evening bath.
Then nursed him a little more for good measure before putting him back to sleep.
And still no Garrett.
She had just finished brushing her teeth and getting ready for bed when she heard the bunkhouse door open and close. She walked out, clad in a pair of pink floral pajamas.
Garrett’s dark hair was rumpled, as if he’d been running his hands through it. The faint shadow of an evening beard lined his jaw, circles of fatigue rimmed his eyes.
Resisting the urge to admit how much she had missed him and launch herself into his arms, she asked casually, “Everything okay?”
He sank down on the middle of the sofa, draped both arms across the back, and stretched his long, jeans-clad legs out in front of him. “I talked Tank into going back to PT.”
Hope perched in the corner next to him. “Good for you. That will help.”
He took her hand in his. Tingles sparked and spread outward, through not just her arm but her entire body.
He smiled. “Physical activity always does.”
Feeling somehow unbearably restless, she disengaged their palms and stood. She strode into the kitchen, picked up a near-empty glass off the counter, drained it and set it in the dishwasher. “Did you eat?”
He studied her as she shut the dishwasher door with a snap. Slowly he got to his feet. “Darcy fixed something for both of us.”
A Texas Soldier's Family Page 9