“Yeah. It has a lot going for it.”
“You think you’re ready to come home?”
He shrugged. “Can I get back to you on that one? Say, after I’ve been here longer than five hours?”
“Five hours and a whack of surprises.” She bumped against his shoulder. “You can have another day or so.”
“You know what I love about you, Ma? Your patience. Oh, and your generosity.”
“Bite me. What about Darcy?”
“What about her?”
“Would she come with you?”
Yep. One meeting and Ma had them married off, raising a family and probably picking out rocking chairs for the porch of their retirement home.
“We’re not at the point of discussing that.”
“How can you not be— Oh, Ian.” Dismay colored her words. “Don’t tell me you haven’t told her about it.”
“I haven’t said anything to her yet. No.”
“Why not? You’re old enough that I can’t say your age anymore because it makes me feel ancient. You had a lousy curve thrown your way, but you’ve come back from it, and, honestly, I think you’re happier with Darcy than you ever were with Taylor.”
Whoa, whoa, whoa. What the hell?
“But you can’t keep this from her. Forget that Moxie could be telling her all about it even as we speak. This is the kind of thing that—”
“Time-out.” His head still whirling from her earlier comment, Ian struggled for sense. “Look, for one thing, Darcy is a lot more understanding than you give her credit for, especially when it comes to privacy and...and things like that.” Good God, she’d practically invented the concept of secrets. “Remember, she wasn’t supposed to come on this trip at all. The whole idea was for me to test the waters on my own. If it was going to be too hard to be here, then the topic would be moot anyway.”
“So you were planning to come home for a few days, make up your mind and then go back and say, ‘Guess what I decided, honey?’” Janice stared at him. “And here I thought you were the smart one.”
“You said Carter was the brilliant son.”
The whack she delivered to his arm wasn’t the usual playful one that she had developed over the years of parenting four sons. This one had some muscle behind it.
“Hey!” He rubbed the spot where her fist had connected. “You been hitting the gym, Ma?”
“Sometimes I swear the only way you boys will pay attention to me is if I smack you first. Now listen. You are a levelheaded man who had his life yanked out from beneath his feet, but who then put that behind him and built something that looks pretty damned wonderful from where I sit. I like all of that. You seem happy again, and I really like that. So don’t blow it by turning into an idiot now.”
“But I—”
“No buts, Ian.” She pulled another biscuit from her pocket and tossed it toward Lulu. “Honey, you’re a family man. You always have been. Some people are happiest when it’s just them, or maybe them and one other person. That’s not you. You’ve always needed strong bonds all around you. You need to be settled with someone, to have a mess of kids climbing all over you and driving you up the walls, just like you and your brothers did to your father and me.”
“You make it sound so appealing.” Which, unfortunately, was the truth.
“But, Ian, let’s get real. You’re not getting any younger. If you want the kind of life that will make you happiest, you need to get it in gear. Kids are a miracle, as I’m sure you’ve found with Cady, but being the kind of parent they need takes a hell of a lot out of a person. You don’t want to be dealing with teenage drama when you’re sixty. Trust me on this.”
“So I should snap up Darcy and start making babies, just so I have enough energy to keep up with my future potential children?”
“Of course not.”
Huh. Could have fooled him.
“You’re not ready.”
“Are you forgetting what you said, oh, fifteen seconds ago?”
“No, Ian. I’m not senile yet, though God knows how I have any brains left after raising this crew. I don’t want you to miss out on something wonderful by dragging your feet, but before you even think about forming a new family, you should make sure you’re good with the one you’ve got.”
“Ma, I—”
“No. Just listen for a minute, will you? I believe you’re happy with Darcy. I believe you’re finding your way back to us. But the fact that you’ve been doing your level best to keep her in one part of your life and us in the other, that tells me you might not be as ready to move on as you think you are. Add in Xander, and, honey, I’d be lying if I said I think you’re in any position to make solid decisions right now.”
Much as he wanted to dismiss her words, a tightness in his gut made it impossible.
“You can’t drift through this one, Ian, and you really can’t run away from it. Make sure you’re as good as you think you are before you do anything permanent.”
“You feeling philosophical in your old age, Ma?” But he kept the words light, knowing she would understand that he wasn’t blowing off her advice. Not by a long shot.
“You know how it goes. You live long enough some stuff eventually starts to make sense.” She shuddered. “But don’t tell Moxie I said that, okay? I don’t want her to know that I think she might really be onto something most of the time.”
* * *
WITH TWO YEARS of togetherness to draw from, why the heck had Ian chosen the Christmas tree memory, the one most guaranteed to screw around with her mind?
Kneeling before the bathtub, Darcy squeezed water from a sodden washcloth, sending it dribbling over Cady’s head. Cady’s sputters and splashes kept Darcy laughing but couldn’t hold her runaway thoughts at bay.
Did he have any clue how close she had been to following him out of the car that day and kissing him the way she had hoped to hell he would kiss her? How was she supposed to fall asleep beside him tonight with the echo of those crackling moments in the car pounding through her and nothing but a jelly roll and good intentions between them?
Her frustrated sigh sent bubbles flying. She should have invited Xander to start his Parenting 101 lessons right away and join in bath time. She would have had to give directions and explain things and teach him the words to the tubby songs. Auto-distraction.
But Cady could deal with only so many changes at once. And even though Darcy’s head was very aware that Xander was indeed Cady’s father, she wasn’t ready for him to be the daddy. Not yet. And not here in Comeback Cove, where “Daddy” had a very different meaning for her.
“Ian’s dad knew your grandpa, Bug. They were great friends.” She squeaked a ducky. “He knew me when I was your age, too. Kind of hard to imagine.”
Cady batted at the duck. Darcy wiggled it just out of her reach, laughed at the indignant frown, then allowed Cady to grab it before dancing it away again.
Seeing Robert was almost like getting a glimpse of how her own dad might have changed over the decades. Paul Maguire had been a little more boisterous than Robert—at least in Darcy’s memory—but when Robert had smiled over Cady banging things at the table, then slipped her a new napkin ring after Darcy took the first one away, well, for that moment she could have sworn she’d heard her dad’s laugh echoing in the room.
“He would have loved you so much, Bug.” Squeak, squeak. “He would have known how to make this right. He had this parenting thing solid.”
Bath finished, she rocked Cady, humming little tunes while dispensing the bedtime bottle, and tried to keep from panicking over the impending bedtime. She had to be practical. Sleep was essential and it was her best defense. The key was to fall asleep before Ian came upstairs. So as soon as Cady was settled, Darcy pulled on her nightgown—giving thanks that she had tossed one in her suitcase instead of relying on her usual soft, ripped and too-short T-shirt—and climbed between line-dried sheets that took her immediately back to those summer visits with Dad and Nonny.
Great
. Another topic to keep her awake.
“It’s a conspiracy,” she whispered into the jelly roll, trying desperately to make her mind blank. To forget Moxie’s barbs about Darcy “forgetting” that Nonny would be out of town this week. To forget Xander, here to claim his share of Cady’s life. To forget that very soon there would be a long stretch of confusing, delicious and totally off-limits man curled up on the other side.
Whether it was the constant exhaustion that went with motherhood or simply her mind ordering her body to shut down while it could, somewhere along the line she fell asleep. She wasn’t aware of anything else until she was dragged back to wee-hours wakefulness by Cady’s soft whimpers.
A quick glance at her phone told her it was a little after one. A longer glance at the other side of the bed told her she was no longer alone.
She swallowed hard while shoving her feet into slippers. The night-light and moonbeams played across Ian’s side of the bed, drawing her attention like a dieter to chocolate.
He was sprawled on his stomach with his left arm out to the side and the hand dangling through the air. His right leg was crooked up against the jelly roll. His head rested on the pillow, dark against the white case, and his soft breathing called to her almost as strongly as Cady’s strengthening cries.
Off-limits, Maguire.
She slipped through the kitchenette, closed the door, stepped over a drowsy Lulu and lifted Cady from the crib.
“What’s the matter, sweet pea? Is it that tooth again?”
One dose of medicine later, they were settled in the oversize rocker. For a second or two she debated trotting up the stairs to the attic room and waking Xander, plunging him headfirst into Parent Boot Camp. After all, wasn’t that why he was here?
But as Cady nestled warm and trusting against her shoulder, she knew she couldn’t do it. Being hauled out of bed at this hour sucked, true, but cuddling her daughter in the muted glow of the night-light, listening to the soft creak of the chair, feeling Cady’s breathing slow and her little body grow heavier as Mama made everything better... Nope. Even if Cady had been comfortable enough with Xander to invite him to take over, Darcy wasn’t ready to share the shadowed peace of this moment. Especially not while wearing jammies, and especially not with Xander.
Ian, on the other hand...
Darcy hummed tunelessly, patted Cady’s back and admitted the truth.
Ian did things to her.
Things she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. During the day she could convince herself it was simply prolonged celibacy making her feel this way, but at night the truth came creeping. She liked him. Liked being with him and laughing with him. Liked kissing him. Really liked knowing that if she needed help all she had to do was say the word and he would be by her side.
Though how could she like something that made her so damned scared?
“Oh Cady Bug,” she sang to the slightly mangled tune of “Danny Boy.” “Dear Cady Bug, please go to sleep now—”
A smothered snort from the other side of the room interrupted her song.
“Ian?”
“Please tell me this is a dream,” he said. “Because if you’re really singing that, I might have to report you for child abuse.”
“Everyone’s a critic,” she said as softly as possible.
He peeled himself from the door and crossed the room. Funny how it felt so much smaller when he was in it. “The tooth?”
His voice was rough and thickened by sleep, and, oh crap, she was melting all over the chair.
“I think so. She’ll be asleep again soon. Sorry we woke you.”
There was just enough light for her to make out his shrug. “No problem. Do you need anything? Water, a pillow...”
A massage that didn’t stop at the neck or shoulders sounded mighty attractive.
“I’m okay, thanks.”
He studied her while she rocked. “Aren’t you cold?”
Dear Lord, no.
For a moment she allowed herself a lovely fantasy—that when it came time to climb back into bed, Ian would reach over the jelly roll and take her hand, stroking it with his thumb, encouraging and inviting but leaving the next step up to her. The next step, of course, would find her vaulting over the quilt and dive-bombing him into the mattress.
“Go back to bed,” she said gently. To bed, to sleep, preferably before she got there. “I gave her some meds. She’ll be out again in a few minutes.”
Instead of doing as instructed he shuffled to the window, pulled back the curtains and peered outside. She couldn’t imagine what there was to see at this hour, but maybe it was a protector thing, like with dogs.
As if on cue, Lulu whined softly and pawed the air. Yep. The great defender, standing on guard for thee.
Ian, however, was still at the window. Maybe he’d fallen asleep standing up. Maybe he was counting the stars.
Maybe he also was doing his best to avoid the bed. Because as weird as it had been to slip between those sheets earlier, knowing he would be joining her, it was going to be a whole different story now with both of them awake. And aware. And—crap—more than a little aroused, at least on her part.
Nope. Definitely not happening.
She eased to her feet. Cady stirred but didn’t protest. A few steps, a pat on the back and Cady was down for the count. Probably chasing Lulu through some dreamscapes.
Darcy shivered. Damn. She really wished Ian had gone back to bed when she’d told him to go.
He had left his perch by the window and waited at the door to the kitchenette. She padded past him into their room, resolutely averting her eyes from the bed as she grabbed the monitor from her side and tossed it into her workbag.
“What are you doing?”
It really was unfair the way his voice got lower and rougher when he tried to speak softly. It scraped against parts of her that hadn’t been scraped in a long time.
“I’m wide-awake, and I have a lot to do, so I’ll go downstairs and sneak in an hour or so of work. Where can I set up camp without disturbing anyone?”
“You should sleep.”
Yeah, as if that was going to happen.
“Hey, us working moms have to grab the moment when it presents itself.”
“I hope you don’t expect me to buy that line.”
Her hands slowed as she zipped the bag. “You could at least pretend. Help me save face and all that.”
“Darce.” His hand hovered over hers. He was so close, damn it, standing beside her wearing nothing but sleep pants and an undershirt—which she strongly suspected he wore only out of consideration for her—and oozing temptation. Warmth radiated from him. Cozy, it seemed to whisper. Snuggleable. Doable.
She had to get out of there.
“Darce, listen. I know it’s weird sharing the bed and all, but the only way it’s going to get easier is if we just, you know, do it.”
Her head snapped upright. Her jaw sagged.
“Shit.” He covered his face with his hand. “That came out really, really wrong.”
Oh, the rightness of that wrongness...
“Don’t worry about it.” Keep it brisk, Maguire. “We’re in an awkward position here. Practically anything we say can be turned into a double entendre.”
His mouth quirked. “Like awkward position?”
“Did I... Oh, jeez. I did say that, didn’t I?”
His only answer was a mildly repressed snort. She pulled her bag to her chest—all the better to shield herself with—and sidled toward the door.
“Yeah, this is why I think it would be best if I went downstairs. Work. Warm milk. All those good things.”
“And this is why I think you should come back to bed. You can’t hide the whole time we’re here.”
Did he have to see through her so easily? “I went to bed early. I can nap when Cady does if I need to.”
“Or you could bite the bullet, get back under the covers and get through this.”
Her foot slipped back. “Not that easy.”
“Of course not. But it will just get harder—”
She coughed.
“Damn! I mean, the longer you put it off, the more difficult it will be.”
He had a point. Worse, he was as stubborn as she was. The more she argued, the deeper he would dig in his heels. Maybe the best course of action would be to get into the bed, wait for him to fall asleep and slip out. She could do that.
“Fine.” She grabbed the monitor, set the bag by the door for ease of escape and flounced over to her side of the bed, where she yanked back the covers, issued a stern warning to her libido and dropped to the mattress.
“That was quick.”
“That’s what she said,” she retorted without thinking, then stuffed her fist into her mouth. Stupid, stupid, stupid—but her inner adolescent burst into giggles.
Ian eased into his side with much more grace. Probably trying to keep from jostling her. Little did he know that an earthquake couldn’t shake her as much as the sight of his head against the pillowcase.
“There. You survived.”
“But I’m not asleep yet.”
“Give it time, woman. Count sheep. Distract yourself.”
“Close my eyes and think of England?”
“What?”
Oh, crap. She couldn’t have kept her mouth shut?
“Victorian era advice to brides on their wedding night,” she said as tonelessly as possible.
Over on the other side of the jelly roll, Ian was silent...until he burst out laughing.
“Seriously?”
“You think I would make up something like that?” Especially when they were the only two people awake in a dark house surrounded by the lingering echo of his Christmas story and a thick fog of awareness.
“No. No, I guess you wouldn’t.”
His laughter faded to occasional snickers. She stared into the darkness, listening to him breathe, willing him to fall asleep the way she had with Cady so many nights. Too bad she had yet to perfect the technique.
Maybe if she pretended to be nodding off...
“Darce?”
Her fingers curled into the pillow. He wasn’t simply asking if she was asleep. There was an extra edge in his voice that had her instantly on alert.
A Family Come True Page 14