And Abby cared about him.
That was the last thing she’d said before he’d left her in the library over a week ago. That and the fact that she wasn’t happy about her feelings. That he was worse than the man she’d divorced. And she’d learn to live with the disappointment. At the time, he’d thought she was wrong—that he was nothing like her ex-husband. Now he wasn’t so sure. He’d let Kimmie down already and was about to do it again.
Since the day Abby had given him a piece of her mind, he’d thought about little else besides her. Somehow Abby, and Kimmie, too, had sneaked past his emotional perimeter. And he wasn’t so sure he would ever learn to live with that disappointment.
“It doesn’t matter?” Nora said, her voice rising an octave. “This from the man who still has the emotional scars because his adoptive parents had the audacity to conceive a child?”
“I’m so over that,” he scoffed.
“Right. And I could see by the look on your face when Kimmie said her father called that you’re over what Barb did to you.”
“I am over it.”
“Prove it. Go to that school function. Because the bottom line is you’re a grown man. Kimmie is a little girl. If you think your behavior isn’t going to scar her for the rest of her life, then you’re a five-star general in charge of fantasyland.”
Speaking of giving a piece of her mind, Nora was really on a roll, he thought. And she didn’t know he’d already stood Kimmie up once already. He felt like a by-product of nuclear waste sludge for what he’d done.
“I don’t know how to respond to that.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Fortunately, you don’t have to because I’m not finished with you yet. You’re a lying weasel dog. A coward.”
“Am not.” He tried to smile, to draw her into their childhood give-and-take. But they weren’t children any more and the look on her face said she wasn’t going there.
“I don’t mean ’fraidy cat in the traditional sense,” she went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “There’s not a doubt in my mind that you’d take a bullet for anyone you loved.”
“Damn straight,” he agreed.
“And I think Abby and her daughter are at the top of your list. You’d march right into hell and spit in the devil’s eye without flinching, but taking a chance on Abby scares the hell out of you.”
“Who died and made you the resident shrink?” He’d meant to sound teasing, but there was a defensive edge to his voice. She was way too close to the target.
“You’re a big chicken, Riley.” She made chicken noises and moved her arms as if she were flapping wings.
“You know,” he said, studying her. “Cupid has wings.”
She shook her head. “Not me. No way. I don’t like anyone messing in my love life. Pathetic as it is. But I’ll tell you this. You can do what you think is right. You always have and always will because it’s the way you’re wired.” She pointed at him again. “But—and I mean this with every fiber of my being—if you stand that little girl up for Doughnuts With Dad, I will personally break your kneecaps.”
“You and what army?”
“Don’t push it. I’ve got connections.”
He was trying for flippant, but she shot him a glare on the way out of his office. He looked at the scribbling on his calendar and traced the heart he’d absently drawn around their initials. Was his subconscious trying to tell him something?
Or was it time to stop thinking too much? He’d been in a lot of tight spots and instinct had saved his life more than once. Maybe he should simply go with his gut on this one.
Abby watched her daughter from a glassed-in area just off the first grade classroom. She could see without being seen as dads arrived and sat with their children, just like Muffins With Mom day. Kimmie’s hopeful gaze darted to the door every time it opened, and every time the man walking in wasn’t Riley, the hope died.
The door to the hideaway room opened and Mrs. Nolet walked in. “Hi, Abby.”
“Hi.” Abby had explained that Kimmie’s stand-in dad probably wouldn’t be there and had received permission to wait in the wings if needed.
The teacher pushed her glasses up on her nose. “You know I won’t let Kimmie be left out. If you need to get to work—”
Abby shook her head. “I took the morning off.”
“Okay.” She nodded and left, moving around the classroom, making sure the event was going smoothly.
Abby had tried to prepare her daughter for the fact that Riley wasn’t coming, but the little girl refused to believe it. When he’d missed the Bluebonnets meeting, she’d made excuses—maybe he had been sick, or his car had broken down, like theirs had that time. Abby had explained that he’d fulfilled his auction obligation to them and now he was moving on, but her little girl wouldn’t accept it. He’d promised. And it didn’t matter a fig to her that he’d also promised to be at her meeting. She’d been adamant that on Doughnuts With Dad day, she wouldn’t be sitting by herself like Griffie.
But Abby wasn’t taking any chances. If no one invited Kimmie to sit with them, Abby would be there. It broke her heart that she couldn’t be everything to her child. If she could, her little girl wouldn’t even notice that men let her down on an annoyingly regular basis.
Abby saw Kimmie look toward the door and braced herself again for the look of disappointment. Instead, Kimmie’s little face lit with animation, and she jumped up and waved. Following her gaze, Abby saw a man, slightly taller than the few who were milling around. He waved and squatted down as Kimmie raced over and then hurled herself at him, practically disappearing as he folded her into his strong arms.
Tears burned Abby’s eyes as the little girl took Riley’s big hand in her small one and led him to her six-year-old-sized chair. He looked questioningly at the identical empty seat beside hers, then lowered himself carefully. Kimmie laughed at the picture he made, with his knees practically touching his nose. No way would his long legs fit under the table. Most of the dads had the same problem, but not as bad as Riley.
Not only did he stand head and shoulders above the other men, he was by far the hottest guy in the room. Abby had the racing heart and sweaty palms to prove it.
Just then, Mrs. Nolet poked her head in. “He’s here, Abby. Kimmie’s not alone.”
She started to answer and found her voice thick with emotion. After she cleared her throat, she said, “Yeah. I saw him come in.”
“So if you need to go…”
“If it’s all right, I’d like to stay and watch.”
The blonde nodded. “No problem.” She started to leave, then poked her head back in. “By the way, he’s not hard on the eyes. Is it serious between you?”
Yeah, she wanted to say. A serious problem with serious pain because their pasts got in the way. “No.”
“I’m not being nosy,” she explained. Then she grinned. “Maybe just a little. But it’s helpful to know if there are any big changes in a child’s life. It can affect their ability to learn.”
“I understand.” Abby shook her head. “But he’s just a friend. There won’t be anything happening that will impact my daughter.”
“Okay. Talk to you later.”
Abby couldn’t take her eyes off the two in the other room. She was entranced and charmed by Riley’s easy manner with her daughter and the other men he chatted up. He exuded warmth and an innate caring for the children, none of whom were his own. Probably because he knew how it felt to not belong. Unfortunately, the woman he’d married had put him back to square one—on the outside looking in. Now Abby and Kimmie were paying the price for what she’d done.
Finally, it was time for the kids to go to recess and the dads to leave. Abby followed Riley to the school parking lot and watched him unlock his SUV with the keyless entry.
“Hi,” she said.
He turned at the sound of her voice, but didn’t look all that surprised to see her. “Hi.”
“I just wanted to thank you for coming. It meant a lot to Kim
mie.” And to me, she thought. But he wouldn’t want to know that.
“You don’t have to thank me. I enjoy spending time with her.” He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “About missing her meeting, Abby, I tried to apologize to her. But she was too busy showing me around her classroom. She’s a terrific kid. Sorry isn’t anywhere near enough. It’s just that—”
She held up her hand. “You don’t have to explain.”
“I want to.”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“Okay. For now.” His expression turned intense. “Do you want to hear how I feel about what you said the last time we talked?”
Heat crawled up Abby’s neck and settled in her cheeks. Apparently it was too much to hope that he either hadn’t heard or would choose to ignore her emotional confession. If she hadn’t been so doggone upset about what he’d done to Kimmie, her guard would never have slipped enough for her to admit she’d fallen for him.
“It’s no big deal, Riley. Just forget it.”
“I don’t want to forget it. I can’t.”
“I plan to.” She huffed out a breath. It was time to change the subject and she knew just the thing. “There’s something you should know.”
“What’s that?”
“Fred finally called me back.”
“And?” His mouth thinned as a muscle contracted in his cheek.
“He wanted to give me a head’s-up that an entertainment reporter would be calling me for an interview.” With her hand, she shielded her eyes from the sun’s glare and stared into eyes as blue and clear as the Texas sky. Big mistake. She cleared her throat. “Fred wants me to tell her that even though we’re divorced, he’s a terrific father who supports his daughter and me financially and emotionally. That we’re terrific friends and parent our beautiful child together.”
“In other words, lie. Except about the beautiful child part.”
“Pretty much.”
“So did you?” he asked.
“I don’t lie. Ever,” she said emphatically. Not about anything. Including her feelings for Riley, although that was the last thing she wanted to talk about. If she could rewind their last conversation and take back the words, she’d do it in a heartbeat. “The fact is, no one’s called me to ask about him. It’s Fred tilting at windmills again. I just thought you should know.”
“Thanks for telling me.”
“You’re welcome. And again, thanks for coming today.”
“You didn’t think I would. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” He held up his hand. “I don’t blame you. Based on my recent unforgivable behavior.”
“I just didn’t want Kim to be alone. She has such a tender heart and—”
When her voice broke, Riley moved closer and touched her hand, took it in his own. The warmth felt so good wrapped around her fingers. How she would love to trust him, to take the support he was offering. But she couldn’t trust and she had to stand on her own two feet. She’d made the mistake of reaching out to Riley once. She wouldn’t do it again. Not only because she hated being needy, but it hurt too much when you loved someone who couldn’t love you back.
“Abby—”
She pulled her hand away. “I have to get to work.”
“Wait, we need to talk.”
“I don’t have anything else to say.” She stepped up on the curb.
“I have plenty to say.”
She walked slowly backward. “Now that camping is over, so are we. There’s nothing you can say that I want to hear.”
Because all she wanted to hear was that he loved her, and it was the one thing he couldn’t say. She turned away before he could see the tears in her eyes and walked to her car as quickly as possible.
He was noble and loyal and wonderful, and he would try to do the right thing. But he obviously couldn’t love her. It had been stupid to even hold out hope that he could. She was umbrella drinks and ordering off a menu. He was catch it, kill it, cook it over an open fire. The differences between them were why she’d bought him in the first place—to give her child what she couldn’t. It was never supposed to get this personal.
She backed her car out of the space and looked in her rearview mirror. Riley still stood there, watching. Sweeping the back of her hand across her cheek, she brushed at the trail of tears. It hurt a lot to know this was the last time she would ever see him. Her heart cracked, and she was pretty sure she’d never be able to put it back together.
Because she’d never loved anyone the way she loved Riley.
Chapter Twelve
“But, Mommy, why can’t I ask Riley to come over for dinner?”
Abby glanced in the rearview mirror at her daughter, securely buckled in the backseat. They’d just come from day care and were on the way home. Kimmie had chattered nonstop about her day at school, which included Riley and Doughnuts With Dad. How could she make this child understand that the man they’d both fallen in love with wasn’t coming around anymore?
“It’s not polite to bother him. He probably has plans, Kimmie.” Now wasn’t the time for that conversation, because Abby knew she was dangerously close to an emotional meltdown as it was. When it happened, she wanted to be in the privacy of her own bedroom where her little girl wouldn’t see.
“Today at Doughnuts With Dad, he told me he wasn’t doing anything tonight,” Kimmie said.
“Did he volunteer that information? Or did you grill him like a raw hamburger?”
“Huh?” The little girl brushed her hair out of her eyes.
“Did you ask him a lot of questions?”
There was complete silence. Abby kept her eyes on the road as she asked, “Are you shaking your head? Use words, Kim.”
“No. I didn’t bother him. He just said so.”
“Why would he tell you he didn’t have anything to do tonight?”
“Because he wants me to call and ’vite him over for dinner. How many times do I have to tell you?”
One glance and Abby read her body language—hands out, palms up clearly saying duh. Kimmie was a miniversion of her, and the words were straight from Abby’s top ten list of maternal rhetorical questions. If only her brain didn’t seize up when irritation got the better of her and she could remember what a little sponge her child was. It was like looking into a mirror, and the reflection she saw wasn’t pretty.
But right now, Abby was too focused on her own pain and loneliness to even be irritated. Surely Riley hadn’t been hinting for an invitation. He’d shown up today because he felt badly about breaking a promise, but Doughnuts With Dad was his last obligation to them and he was moving on. She needed to do the same. And she would know she had when the thought of never seeing him again didn’t produce a fresh wave of sadness and raw pain. Somehow she had to convince Kim to back off. Let it go. Let him go. Maybe that would be easier, Abby thought, when she figured out how she was going to forget him.
She turned onto their block, grateful that they were almost home. Neighborhood kids were playing ball in the street, and she drove slowly, watching that they were all out of the way.
“Mommy, what’s that in our front yard?”
“What, sweetie?” She glanced at her house and for the first time saw what looked like a domed tent in the front yard. If she wasn’t mistaken, it was the ultralight one they’d slept in on the campout.
“There’s a bunch of kids in our yard,” Kim said, pointing out the obvious.
They were gathered around the tent and a tall man beside it. Abby’s heart started to hammer and the blood rushed to her head, pounding in her ears. The noise was so loud it took several moments before she realized what Kimmie had said.
“Mommy, that looks like Riley,”
She recognized his SUV parked at the curb. After all, it had only been a few hours since she’d hurried away from it, and him, in the lot at Kimmie’s school. He’d said he wanted to talk, but she couldn’t bear to hear him say goodbye. Her pulse skipped as she pulled into the driveway.
After
the car had stopped, it only took Kimmie seconds to unbuckle herself and hop out. Abby took her time, trying to brace herself, shore up her defenses. She couldn’t take much more of this emotional stuff. Force of habit made her press the automatic garage door opener. Then she went to see what was going on.
“This is the tent I slept in when we went camping,” Kimmie boasted to three children gathered around who lived next door.
“That’s right,” Riley confirmed.
“Is it heavy?” four-year-old Gavin asked.
“A big guy like you wouldn’t have any trouble carrying it,” Riley said, and the towheaded little boy grinned at the praise.
“Girls can carry stuff, too,” his seven-year-old sister Mary pointed out. Her hair was the same shade as her two brothers’. “Kimmie carried it and she’s younger than me. Right, Kim?”
“Riley carried it all the way to where we camped. But I picked it up.”
“No way.” Colin was ten and in the boys-are-bigger-and-stronger stage. “It’s too big for a girl.”
“Did too, didn’t I, Riley?”
“You did. When we were breaking camp, you were a big help. When you go camping, everyone has to pull his weight. That’s what survival is all about.” He looked at Abby as she joined the group, but his expression was as maddeningly impassive as ever.
“Hi, Mrs. Walsh,” all the kids said together.
“Hi,” she answered.
“Are you going camping again?” Gavin asked Riley, eyeing the tent with undisguised envy.
“Are we?” Kimmie asked.
“We’ll see.”
He looked at all the children who stared back with hero worship written all over their sweet, innocent faces. Abby didn’t blame them. She had a raging case of it herself. Riley was definitely hero material. Although she didn’t think it was especially heroic of him to show up and put her through more heartache.
“Kids, I think I hear your mother calling you,” Abby said.
Colin listened. “I don’t hear anything.”
“I think you just got your marching orders,” Riley pointed out.
“Yeah. I guess it’s about time for dinner.” He looked at Riley. “Can we play in the tent after we eat?”
That Touch of Pink Page 14