Be My Baby: Konigsburg, Texas, Book 3

by Meg Benjamin

  Pete grimaced. “Which brings up another problem. What happens when the FBI finally gets around to interviewing Lydia Moreland and it turns out she already knows about the phone recording?”

  “My guess is, by then Lydia will be safely stashed away somewhere with a lot of security and a very high wall. I think Moreland was dead serious about her only having access to medical personnel. He wants her out of the way. Far out of the way.”

  Pete blew out a long breath. “Still. Risky, bro. Very, very risky.”

  Lars’s lips spread in a slow smile. “Ah, well, what’s life without a little risk?”

  “Says the accountant.”

  “Says the Toleffson.”

  The three of them grinned at each other for a moment. Lars wondered if that had ever happened before—if they’d ever grinned at Erik and had him grin back. Certainly not when they were kids. But the times, as they say, were a-changin’.

  “So.” Pete’s eyes took on a devilish glint. “When’s the wedding?”

  Shit. Lars cleared his throat. “We haven’t exactly set a date yet.” He was careful not to look at Jess.

  “If you really got going on it, you could do something around Christmas. Dad and Mom are going to be here anyway. It would save them a trip.”

  Pete’s lips edged up in a teasing smile. Lars felt like throttling him, but he supposed he’d asked for it. Pete had the right to a little payback.

  He cleared his throat again. “Probably not that soon. We’ll have to discuss it. Maybe after you leave.” He gave Pete his most pointed look.

  Erik stood, picking up his Stetson from the table. “Come on, Counselor. That’s our cue to haul ass.”

  “Aw, just when I was starting to have fun.” Pete gave Lars another half grin.

  Fratricide had a real appeal just then.

  Lars watched his brothers troop out the door, very aware as he did that he hadn’t looked at Jess since the word wedding had been mentioned. The room suddenly seemed awfully quiet.

  He took a deep breath, keeping his gaze on his feet. “Look, Jess, I’m sorry.”

  She was silent for so long that he finally turned back to look at her. Her face was wiped clean of expression. “What are you sorry for exactly, Lars?”

  “For putting you on the spot with the whole marriage thing. I didn’t think about that. I just…said it.”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t feel on the spot. I thought it was brilliant. Did you see her face?”

  “I was afraid she might have a stroke or something.” Lars grinned and then felt a quick pinch from his conscience. “Not that I wanted her to.”

  “I did.” Jess’s voice was flat. “I wouldn’t mind if she were dead. And yes, I know what kind of person that makes me. And no, I don’t care.”

  Lars sank beside her on the couch. “I’d say it makes you human. The woman would have had you killed so that she could snatch your son. She’s a monster.”

  “She’s a Moreland. That’s what they do.”

  “Preston didn’t seem so bad.”

  “Preston…” Jess closed her eyes for a moment.

  In the silence Lars could hear a rasping grackle outside in the yard.

  “Barry liked Preston. But he said Preston didn’t understand their mother. He never understood what she was really like.”

  “I’d say he understands now.”

  The grackles cried again, raucous blats against the sound of the wind through the live oaks. “Are you ready to go back?” he asked. “Docia’s probably wondering what happened to us.”

  “I guess we should,” Jess murmured, not moving. She closed her eyes, leaning her head against the back of the couch.

  Lars took a deep breath. Go on. Go for it. “We could do it, you know.”

  “Go back to town?”

  “Get married.”

  Jess’s eyes popped open.

  He pushed on doggedly. “Daisy could be the flower girl. She’d like that. She’s already outgrown the dress she wore at Pete and Janie’s wedding, and she’s ready for another one.”

  Beside him, Jess swallowed hard.

  “We could even do it at Christmas if you wanted to. Pete’s right. My folks are going to be here anyway, and they’d help. Docia and Janie could pull it all together. They’ve done it before. Well, Janie has. And Allie. They did a good job on their own weddings. Well, sort of.” Now he was babbling. He just wished Jess would say something.

  As long as it wasn’t No.

  After a long moment, she cleared her throat. “What about Jack?”

  “I love Jack,” Lars said flatly. “I’ll be a good father to him. I promise you.”

  Jess’s fingers rested lightly on his arm. “I know that. That wasn’t what I meant. I meant, what do you want him to do in the wedding?”

  His heart gave a mighty thump. “I’m not sure. Ring-bearer?”

  “He can’t walk yet without help. And if you give him rings to hold, he might eat them.”

  Lars shrugged. “He could be a ring-bearer pillow, then. We could pin them to his front.”

  Jess started to giggle, which quickly turned to something closer to snorting and then chortling. She wrapped her arms around herself, laughing so hard now that she had tears in her eyes. And then the tears became real, and she was sobbing.

  Lars gathered her against his chest, rubbing his hand up and down her back. “It’s okay. It’s over. We won.” His hand moved up to cradle the back of her head, stroking the silky softness of her hair. “It’s okay,” he whispered against her ear. “It’s okay, Jess.”

  She lifted her head to look at him, moss green eyes still wet with tears, a nose badly in need of a handkerchief. She sniffed.

  The corners of his mouth crept up into a grin. God, she was a gorgeous mess. Totally natural. Totally his. He laced his fingers through hers. “Jessamyn Carroll, I love you. Will you marry me?”

  Jess took another deep breath, then let it out in a sigh. “Lars Toleffson, I love you too. And I’d be delighted.”

  He leaned forward, pressing his mouth against her salty lips, then angling deeper as he felt her arms wrap around his neck. Jess’s tongue rose to meet his, rasping against him as he tasted salt again.

  “Jess,” he whispered against her hair, “ah, Jess.”

  Her body was pressed against his now, breasts soft against his chest, one leg draped across his hip. The couch was large and deep and might almost hold them if he shifted slightly to put her against the back. He reached toward the buttons on her shirt.

  And remembered the door was unlocked. And Marcus Shandey was probably on the other side.

  He sighed. “I suppose it would be tacky to go down the hall and see if there’s an unlocked bedroom.”

  Jess nodded slowly. “Plus it would probably make more work for Mr. Shandey, and we’ve already put him through a lot.”

  “Okay.” Lars started to pull himself upright again, his nether regions screaming in protest. “Maybe later.”

  “Hold the thought. We need to go get our kids anyway.”

  Lars’s mouth spread into what he was sure was a sublimely goofy grin. “Our kids.”

  Jess’s forehead furrowed. “Yes?”

  “Our kids,” he repeated. “Ours.”

  After a moment, Jess’s lips spread in a grin that was probably a mirror image of his own in terms of goofiness.

  God, they were made for each other.

  Jess knew there were several dozen things they should be planning, not to mention a dozen or so people they needed to inform about their plans, but somehow all she wanted to do was ride through the hills with her head on Lars’s shoulder, as she was doing right at that moment. The GPS had them pointed in the general direction of Cal’s barn, but she wasn’t in any hurry to get there. She had a feeling as soon as they walked into the barn, chaos would descend. Plus they still had a few things to work out.

  “Lars,” she murmured, “are you sure you want to do this so quickly? I don’t want you to rush into anything�
��no second thoughts later.”

  Lars narrowed his eyes as he avoided a pothole. “I won’t have any second thoughts, Jess. Will you?”

  She shook her head. “I’m certain. It’s just… I know you and Sherice didn’t, well, take much time.”

  Lars glanced down at her, his eyes bleak. “You’re not Sherice. And I’m not the same man I was then. There’s a time to be cautious, and a time to go for it. This is the time to go for it, ma’am.”

  Jess settled her head against his shoulder again. “Yes, sir. Go for it.”

  When they pulled into the drive beside the barn, Cal’s front door burst open, and Docia, Cal, Daisy and Sweetie trotted out.

  “What happened?” Docia called. “We didn’t hear anything from Pete and Erik, and we’ve been worried sick!”

  Cal shook his head. “Not all of us. Some of us assumed you’d do just fine. Right, Jack?”

  Jack, squirming in the crook of Cal’s arm, squealed his delight when he saw Jess.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” Cal grinned, extending the baby in her general direction.

  Jess gathered Jack into her arms as Daisy threw herself at Lars’s knee.

  “Daddy, can we take Sweetie home now? He’s missed us so much.”

  Sweetie obligingly leapt up on Lars’s other side, yipping.

  “Come in for dinner,” Docia demanded. “You can tell us all about it.”

  Lars shook his head. “Not tonight, ma’am. Maybe tomorrow. Thanks for the babysitting.” He started herding Daisy and Sweetie toward the car.

  Docia turned toward Jess, her forehead furrowing. “Is everything okay?”

  Jess nodded, loosening Jack’s fingers from her hair. “Fine.” She took a deep breath, letting the goofy grin she’d been trying to suppress break out again. “Terrific, in fact.”

  Docia narrowed her eyes. “You will come back.”

  “Sure.” Jess took the diaper bag from Cal. “Eventually.” She turned and followed Lars to the car.

  At the B and B, Jack had to be fed, changed, bathed and put to bed. Lars made dinner while Jess was on baby duty. She stared down at the plate of spaghetti he placed in front of her at the table. Amazing how convenient it was to have somebody else doing things in the house besides her.

  Someone to talk to. Someone to pour Daisy’s milk. Someone to rub her feet and tell her what a sucky day he’d had. Amazing.

  Jess closed her eyes for a moment, almost afraid that Lars would disappear when she opened them, leaving her alone again.

  “You okay?” His forehead furrowed slightly.

  “Just tired.”

  He wiped Daisy’s face and hands while Jess cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher. She’d expected him to put Daisy to bed, but when she came back to the living room, Daisy was sitting on the couch beside her father. Jess raised a questioning eyebrow.

  Lars shrugged, smiling. “Daisy, honey, we’ve got some news. Some really good news. Mrs. Carroll and I are getting married. And we’d like you to be our flower girl.”

  Jess felt like wincing. So not the way she would have done it. Oh, well, maybe it would work.

  Lars beamed, his face glowing with such delight it made an ache begin somewhere deep inside Jess’s chest.

  Daisy stared back and forth between them open-mouthed. Then her lips began to tremble.

  Uh oh!

  “No,” Daisy blurted.

  Lars’s grin disappeared. “Daisy?”

  “No.” Daisy’s face began to crumple. “No, no, no!” Tears spilled down her cheeks as her mouth formed a ragged O. Her chest heaved with sobs.

  “Daisy,” Lars murmured. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t.”

  He reached toward her, but Daisy jerked away, her sobs gaining volume. Jess bit her lip. If the sobs became wails, she’d wake Jack, and then they really would be in trouble.

  She knelt in front of Daisy, putting her hand on her knee. “Daisy, look at me please.”

  Daisy turned her tearful gaze downward, looking like an infant mask of tragedy.

  “What’s wrong, honey? You’re not afraid your daddy won’t love you any more, are you? Because you know he always will.”

  Daisy’s tragic mask turned faintly puzzled. “I know.”

  Jess took a breath. “Do you miss your mommy?”

  Daisy’s puzzlement became more pronounced. “Who?”

  “Your mom, Daisy,” Lars explained, his voice slightly dry. “Your mother.”

  Daisy shook her head, her forehead furrowing.

  Jess took another breath. Okay, let’s hear it. “Is it me, Daisy? Do you not like me?”

  Daisy’s lower lip thrust forward. “I like you. You’re nice.”

  Jess glanced at Lars. A little help here?

  “Then what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

  “Jack’ll be my brother.” Daisy’s voice had a dangerous quaver.

  Lars nodded. “Yes. He’ll be your stepbrother.”

  “I can’t marry my brother,” Daisy wailed. “Who can I marry?”

  Jess stared at her, caught between relief and exasperation. And fighting back the urge to snicker.

  Lars looked as if he was fighting the same battle.

  “Oh, Daisy,” Jess murmured, “trust me. With those eyes and that hair, you’ll have to beat the men off with a stick. Or your daddy will. Finding someone to marry will not be a problem.”

  Lars suddenly looked a little grim, as if the prospect of beating potential suitors off with a stick wasn’t entirely out of the question.

  “But Jack needs a sister, Daisy.” And a father and a family, she added silently. “He needs you.”

  Daisy blinked at her. “He needs me?”

  “To help take care of him. To show him how to do things. To make sure nobody picks on him. Because they wouldn’t want to mess with your brother, would they?”

  Daisy’s eyes grew thoughtful. “My brother.”

  Lars was smiling again. “I can tell you about that, Dais. About having brothers. It’s not a bad thing.”

  A long, soulful moan echoed from the general vicinity of the backyard.

  “Crap,” Jess muttered. “I forgot to let Sweetie back into the utility room.” She pushed herself to her feet.

  Daisy’s expression became fretful again. “What about Sweetie?”

  Jess blinked. She wasn’t sure what she was being asked. “Sweetie?”

  “Is Sweetie our dog?” Daisy gave her an earnest look, that would have been utterly guileless if Jess hadn’t known her so well. She took a deep breath.

  “I’ll tell you what, Daisy, everybody gets a wedding present in this deal. And Sweetie can be yours. From me.” Jess was very careful not to look at Lars.

  Daisy’s brow furrowed. “Sweetie’s my dog?”

  “If you like.”

  Daisy’s face was transformed into a cherubic gleam. “Yes. And I get to be flower girl. And I get a velvet dress. With lace.”

  Lars sighed. “Come on, sweetheart, time to get you ready for bed.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  It was a beautiful wedding. Even Lars thought so, and his previous experience with weddings hadn’t been particularly pleasant.

  Docia and Janie had taken charge, as he’d known they would. In short order they managed to reserve the private dining room at Brenner’s restaurant with its massive limestone fireplace and bronze lone star. It meant keeping the guest list down to less than a hundred, but that was fine with Lars. Jess said she didn’t know anybody in town except Toleffsons anyway, but there were enough of them to fill the place, even on Christmas.

  The room was hung with ropes of evergreens and bittersweet and occasional clumps of mistletoe. Everything except the evergreens was local, including the poinsettia plants that ringed the hearth, but the room still smelled vaguely like Iowa in December.

  Pete had strong-armed one of the local judges into presiding—apparently, he owned Pete a favor and performing a wedding on Christmas afternoon was a suitable way of discharging it.
r />   Fortunately for them all, Daisy had no problems with opening her presents on Christmas Eve rather than Christmas morning.

  Jess had found Daisy her velvet dress, red with white lace at the neckline and wrists. She had white stockings too, and black slippers. Docia had given her a wreath of red and white roses to wear in her coffee-colored curls and a basket of rose petals to toss as she skipped down the aisle between the folding chairs. She looked so lovely she made Lars’s heart ache. Of course, when she stood next to Jack, who wore a green velour coverall, the two of them looked a little like Scrooge’s worst nightmare.

  His mother sat at a table now with Jack in her lap, guiding his fingers away from the gorgeous wedding cake Allie had made for them. Mom looked surprisingly relaxed about being on Jack duty, but then she’d had a lot of practice with male babies in her time.

  His parents had also sent him what was probably the best wedding present he could have wished for—an announcement that had appeared in The Des Moines Register, informing the world that Sherice Bettendorf Toleffson had wed Dr. Carl Nolan, “prominent West Des Moines plastic surgeon”, in Cancun on December twentieth. The very fact that Sherice hadn’t bothered to contact him about her marriage told him she was no longer interested in her ex-husband or her daughter. Lars wondered if she’d bothered to tell the prominent plastic surgeon that Daisy existed. Not that he particularly cared.

  He glanced around the room at his brothers. Pete, looking at home in his tuxedo, was in conference with the judge. Cal was giving Daisy a ride on his shoulders. His tuxedo looked a little the worse for wear. Erik sat beside his father at a table, eating a piece of wedding cake. Even in a tuxedo he still looked like a cop. Lars wondered if that had always been true, but he was pretty sure it hadn’t been. Still, he had to admit—it looked like Erik’s thug days were behind him.

  His sisters-in-law stood at the side of the room, surveying the buffet table. In their black silk bridesmaid dresses, they looked like a pair of mismatched Bond girls—one of whom had a slightly greenish tinge. As he watched, Docia grabbed a soda cracker from the table and started munching.

  Lars glanced at the other side of the room and saw Allie talking to Jess. His wife. His throat tightened suddenly as she turned in his direction and smiled. The moss green of her dress matched her eyes, making them seem almost luminous. The bodice molded to her breasts, the long skirt skimming across her hips, ending at her ankles with a side slit that showed enticing glimpses of leg now and then. Her bosom glowed white above the rounded neckline.