He risked a step inside to place the ribbon-covered box of chocolates on the entryway table, jamming his hands in his leather flight jacket to stop from reaching for her. She straightened from the flowers, back ramrod straight in her silky shirt, mile-long legs encased in jeans—legs he remembered locked very well around his waist.
As if sensing the direction of his thoughts, McKenzie pivoted to face him. “I’m going to place these in water and reset the security system.”
Security system? That was new—and a wise idea for a single woman living alone. Not that he intended for her to live alone much longer.
She nodded to a folder on the entryway table. “I had some preliminary custody papers drawn up, in case you want to be a part of the baby’s life.”
He’d spent half his childhood without his father. Damned if he could give up so much as a day with his kid. “How can you even ask that? You know I—”
“Apparently I didn’t know you very well at all, flyboy.” She backed away. “Take the papers, please.”
He bypassed her freaking papers to step nearer until he could smell the sweet scent of her shower still clinging to her. He angled closer, a whisker away from brushing her mouth with his. All the while careful to keep his hand off her stomach because only an idiot wouldn’t realize she probably thought he was just romancing her because of the kid.
His kid.
Vince’s gut went tight as he remembered standing at his father’s funeral holding that folded flag while his mother cried. He swallowed hard, shut his eyes and reached for the oblivion he knew he could find in McKenzie’s kiss…
Chapter Four
McKenzie closed her empty Big Mac box, wondering how she’d managed to hold strong and duck Vince’s kiss back at her condo.
There wasn’t a super-size big enough to satisfy the hunger leaving her dizzy even an hour after she’d come a hair’s breath away from lip locking with the man who’d shattered her heart five months ago. A man who now wanted her out of duty. A big part of why she hadn’t told him about the creepy calls and letters.
Because then he would stick to her side like glue, even though she’d already notified the police and installed a security system.
Sure, it appeared Vince had planned to see her. But how could she trust him for more, long-term duty after the way he’d dumped her cold with no real explanation?
Duty. The baby. And why oh why had she chosen McDonald’s with children everywhere? Each rug-rat squealing down the slide reminded her of families and all she couldn’t have with Vince and this child she carried.
She couldn’t avoid talking any longer. Vince had actually been far more patient than she’d expected. But then he had always been steady, focused, full-speed ahead while she struggled to find level footing in relationships. Vince’s surety soothed her after her marriage that had united two equally absentminded professor types.
Except Vince had then dumped her in a shocker moment. And that still pissed her off, no matter what his reasons for coming back now.
“I want you to be a part of our child’s life.” She was careful to say our as she flipped to the next page in her folder splayed open on the booth table. “Your name will be listed on the birth certificate. I’m even okay with him or her having your last name if you wish. I would like to pick the first name though, and you could choose the middle name.”
Hard, handsome angles of his face tensed ever so slightly. “Are you finished?”
She closed the file and flattened her hands on the table to keep them from reaching to smooth the persistent cowlick in his jet-black hair. “I’m sure there will be plenty more to discuss, such as visitation schedules, but I won’t cut you out of Junior’s life.”
“What about your life? Will I be ‘scheduled’ to see you too?”
“You already decided that five months ago, flyboy.” Oops. Way to go showing her bruised heart.
“I’d like another chance.” He leaned forward on his elbows, muscles straining the sleeves of his chambray shirt. “Not just because of the baby.”
Snort. Right. Hadn’t he noticed the PhD after her name? “Vince, I’m sorry but—”
“Listen, please. If not for us, then yeah, for the kid. I only want a chance to convince you. I have a week’s leave coming to me, so let’s spend the time together. Valentine’s Day’s around the corner and maybe you’re made of heartier stuff than me, but I think it would blow monkey chunks to spend it alone, especially when I’ve got this first-sized lump in my chest just thinking about how I messed things up for us.”
Stop being sweet! “A week, huh?”
“A week of dates—and talk.” His head turned at a series of thuds behind them—a little boy thundering his way up the playland. A smile softened the strong angles of Vince’s face, melting her insides like ice cream left out in the Florida sun.
“No sex,” she insisted to her hormone-revved libido as well as to him. Please, please…she did not need to remember how all their dates ended with sex, and what do ‘ya know, her fries were all gone.
The big guy winced—a welcome ego balm—but finally, he nodded. “If you decide to change your mind about no sex, I sure wouldn’t turn you down. But I promise not to bring the subject up.”
Her mind sifted through his words, looking for the loophole he’d undoubtedly left himself. Except thinking was tough with the spicy soap scent of him reaching across the table to tease her starved senses.
“Fair enough.” She held up her hand. “But tonight counts as date one.”
He opened his mouth to argue. She crossed her arms. He closed his mouth.
“Deal. That’ll carry us through to Valentine’s Day.” He extended his hand across the table for a shake.
Her eyes locked on the strong, blunt fingers that had stroked her body to life with such intuitive finesse. Her hand gravitated toward his, already anticipating the warm rasp of his callused skin.
A ringing swelled from her purse. A phone? Hers. At least she thought it was hers, although it was tough to tell for sure with her heart thundering so darn loud.
Her senses numbed to anything but Vince, she fumbled inside her bag and brought the cell phone to her ear. “Yes?”
“Are you wearing lace under that silky shirt?” an obscenely familiar voice asked. “I love a hint of creamy skin peeking through lace.”
Chapter Five
Vince launched to his feet and around to the other side of the McDonald’s booth, McKenzie so damn pale he was certain she’d be out cold in another second.
Whatever she’d heard on her cell phone had freaked her out, big time. Fear for her and their baby knotted his gut tighter than during any hairy helicopter mission in the Middle East.
Vince knelt beside her, resting a steadying hand on her shoulder. “Kenzie, hon, are you okay?”
The phone shook so hard against her face he took it from her and spoke into the receiver. “Hello, McKenzie can’t—”
The line went dead.
His thoughts flew back to that note she’d hidden earlier. Jealousy roared louder than the kids pouring out of the playland. “Are you seeing someone?”
Her sky blue eyes went wide with shock. “No! No. Nobody since you.”
“Then what’s going on with the call and the letter you hid earlier?”
She took her phone back with a trembling hand and tucked it in her purse. “Could we talk about it in your truck, please? I really want to get away from here.”
“Sure. But I’m holding you to your promise of a serious conversation.”
Night breeze filling the cab of Vince’s truck as they sped along the shoreline road back to her place, McKenzie accepted time had run out.
No more dodging. She knew Vince’s bulldog expression well, and he wasn’t backing off until he had answers. And frankly, she was beyond “starting” to get scared. She was totally shaken to her shoes.
She tilted her face into the salty wind. “I’ve been getting obscene phone calls for a while now. He uses some kin
d of distorter to disguise his voice so I don’t even know if it’s a stranger or not. I changed my number, but that didn’t stop him. Then creepy letters started too. That call was from him.”
“Damn,” Vince hissed low. “The new security system. I should have guessed something was wrong.”
She nodded. “Yes, I had it installed because of him.”
“Do you still have the letters?” He eased the truck to a stop at a traffic light.
“I gave them to the police, all but the latest one that came today. It’s still in my purse.”
“Let me see it.”
“What will that—”
“Let me see it.” Vince’s knuckles went white on the steering wheel. “Please.”
He wouldn’t give up and she knew it. She fished the letter from her purse and passed it across the bench seat. He read it by the illumination from the dash, his jaw going tight—no doubt when he got to the section about all the places the creepy bastard wanted to put his tongue.
With exaggerated precision, Vince refolded the paper. The light turned green and he eased his foot off the brake, accelerating back into traffic, his jaw still so tight she feared he would crack a tooth.
She slid the letter back across the seat, resisting the urge to shred it. The police needed to see it. “He wasn’t that explicit at first, so I thought it was just some simple prank caller.”
He sucked in breaths with great effort. “How long has this been going on?”
“The first call happened about four and a half months ago, the letters about three weeks ago.”
“Shortly after I left.”
She nodded, her throat clogging with a fresh swell of fear. “Then the calls picked up in frequency, and he knew details about me. Like tonight, he knew what I was wearing.”
Already she saw the warrior protectiveness emerging from within Vince to cloak him like a uniform he could never peel away, merely absorb back inside until the next time duty called. His honor was unquestionable, but inconvenient when she needed distance to stay objective.
He exhaled a long low curse. “You said you’ve called the cops.”
“Of course. Right away, and I’ve documented everything since. So far there haven’t been any leads.”
Vince met her gaze for a quick but intense moment. “I’m sorry I haven’t been here for you.”
God, but it was tempting to believe him, believe in him again. Sighing, she shifted to study the murky seaside skyline. “This isn’t your fault or your problem. Now if you don’t mind I’m really tired. Could you take me home?”
“Home? Not a chance. Our first date isn’t over after all, because you’re not going home.”
Panic—and a hint of excitement—swept away the horror of the phone call. “Vince—”
“You’ll be spending the night at my place.”
Chapter Six
Vince watched McKenzie sleeping in his king-sized bed, her hand curled over their baby inside her, and he wanted more than anything to wrap himself around them both.
But he knew she wouldn’t allow that. He had some serious backpedaling to do, all while keeping her safe from the bastard who’d dared stalk her. What kind of sicko scared a pregnant woman?
Protectiveness roared through him, for her and the tiny life they’d made together. He’d seen too much overseas. He knew firsthand how vulnerable women and children were to evil and destruction.
Coming home from the Middle East, he’d just wanted to lose himself in McKenzie’s softness as he’d done so often before. Right here in this bed. Where she belonged, with her long brown hair fanned on his pillow—or over his chest.
He reached to trace sun-kissed caramel colored streaks glinting in the moonlight. His eyes rested on her stubborn chin, set even in sleep.
He’d won a tough battle in convincing her to take a week off work so they could be together during the days as well as evenings. She’d been hesitant, with the renovations on the clinic finishing and runway repairs gearing up. Her job as a civilian engineer on base in an understaffed office kept them all maxed and she didn’t want to overburden Ruthie, Carl and Judd.
But she’d finally acquiesced. For the baby’s safety, she’d insisted, even though he could see the fear in her eyes she was too proud to admit.
He would take the victory any way he could get it. Keeping her protected was too important, especially since she didn’t seem to grasp how quickly some pervert could slip over the edge and become dangerous. She also hadn’t realized the significance of the latest note.
Since the letter-writing bastard had broken into her car on a secure military installation, this could be someone in her everyday work world.
Now, he had some major planning to undertake for dates to keep her busy, safe, and somehow persuade her to take him back.
Streetlights illuminating the sidewalk, McKenzie’s stomach fluttered in a way that had nothing to do with the baby and everything to do with nerves over her “date” with Vince to the historic Ybor City, just outside of Tampa.
Her hormone-heightened senses were on overload. She savored the beauty of old cigar factories renovated into boutiques, restaurants and clubs. Spicy scents of Cuban delicacies wafted into the street. Latin music thrummed through the walls, finding an answering pulse in her heavy heartbeat.
And to complete her sensory feast, a hunky, muscled man walked at her side. A man who’d been so sweetly romantic about draping his leather flight jacket over her shoulders when a surprise chill hit the night air. Lordy, he looked fine in khakis and a white button down.
He looked even better without them.
Sure, she’d been more than a little torqued off at his high-handed tactics in insisting she take time off from work, but honestly, he was right in thinking she should step back and make a concerted effort at discovering who’d been stalking her. Just thinking about the horrible possibilities Vince had spelled out of what could happen if the phone caller decided to try for personal contact…she shivered.
Vince certainly made for a hulking bodyguard. As much as she enjoyed her engineering career and valued her independence, the baby was too important to risk over pride.
And speaking of the baby, that kind of discussion would offer a welcome distraction from the urge to burrow deeper into his leather jacket. “About the baby—”
“Shhh.” Vince rested his finger over her lips—and ohmigod, his touch felt sooo good. “Let’s not talk about Junior tonight. Let’s just be together, simple and uncomplicated, to get reacquainted.”
That sounded as good as his finger felt. A wicked impishness made her ask, “You don’t want to know about my next doctor’s appointment with an ultrasound to find out the baby’s gender?”
“We can know this early?”
A hunger swept through his expression so intense, her heart melted more than a little. As much as she didn’t want him to pursue her out of duty—hey wait! She didn’t want him to pursue her again at all.
So why was she standing in the middle of Ybor City nightlife traffic, fighting the urge to suck on Vince Novak’s finger?
Chapter Seven
He could kiss her right now and she wouldn’t stop him.
Tracing her lips with one finger, Vince could see McKenzie’s consent shining in her serious blue eyes as they stood on a busy sidewalk outside one of Ybor City’s best restaurants.
“I want to kiss you so bad I can’t breathe.” He let his hand slide away from her. “But I made a promise and I’m not going to risk losing our other five dates by breaking my word.”
She stared unblinking, still focused on his finger with hungry intent. “What promise?”
“The no-sex promise you insisted on.”
“Oh.” She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, streetlights glinting off the caramel streaks in her hair while oblivious couples strolled past. “Technically, a kiss isn’t sex.”
Hmmm. She had a point.
Then reality smacked him. “Just necking was never an option for us
.”
A small smile teased her mouth. “We had something mighty amazing going.”
Had. Past tense. Damn, he hurt without her and he hurt with her.
He stared deeper into her eyes, a whole different kind of hurt throbbing through him, bringing memories of amazing nights tangled up in her hair—
A body rammed into his back. Vince pivoted hard and fast to find…college kids stumbling in a pack from the nightclub next door. Relief slammed him harder than the jostle, also offering a healthy reminder to keep McKenzie as close to his side as possible.
He cupped her elbow and steered her around the pedestrian traffic. McKenzie’s disappointed sigh bolstered him. Hang tough, pal, for the big prize. The evening had gone great so far, better than he’d expected.
His mind winged back to her last comment before her eyes had broadcast: kiss me. “You’re okay with me coming to your doctor appointments?”
She blinked fast at his abrupt conversational shift. Not a bad thing since too often around McKenzie he felt like he was parachuting without a reserve chute. If only she would think less and feel more.
And the irony wasn’t lost on him. He wasn’t Vince “Feel-No-Pain-Novocain” Novak anymore.
Finally, she nodded. “Of course you’re welcome at the appointments. It’s not like you haven’t seen my stomach before.” With a slight grimace that was quickly replaced with a smile, she smoothed her hands over the slight swell. “Although you haven’t seen it quite like this.”
“But I want to.” The words slipped right past his defenses that burned to touch their baby, touch her. Might as well work with it since he couldn’t pull back his admission. “You always turned me inside out before, but now…damn. What they say about a pregnant woman glowing is totally true. I can’t take my eyes off you.”
A Valentine for Harlequin's Anniversary Page 9