Code Name: Kayla's Fire

by Natasza Waters

  Opportunity, he wondered. Nothing like treading on ice to test its strength. Officer in a white uniform? Stupid? Kayla wasn’t just addressing Nina’s vulnerability. “I doubt she was that naïve.”

  Kayla turned her eyes to him. “If he gave a shit, he wouldn’t have sailed away satisfied and unconcerned.”

  Was that a tug on the end of his line? “Doubt it.”

  “What do you mean, doubt it? He did, sated and victorious, he moved on to the next port of open thighs.”

  Time to withdraw. “Maybe that’s true, but I know Mace will love Gabriella and Nina as long as she’ll let him. He’ll be a great dad and a husband Nina can count on. He’ll stand beside her no matter what hurtles they have to clamber over. They’re going to have an amazing life together.”

  Kayla took a deep breath and let it out slowly, gazing out over the lake. She didn’t want to look at him. Her anger simmered and the concoction wasn’t even close to being fit for serving. When she let go, he was going to have to be ready, because everything the woman kept inside of her usually didn’t show itself until the gates were blown open by sheer force. Kayla was gonna tear his head off, and he was going to take it like a man—a very patient man. While that pressure built up against the gate, he was going to be weakening it from all sides—every chance he got.

  * * * *

  Kayla woke to the smell of a barbeque and the baby liked the smell too, her hunger swarmed. Thrusting the blanket away, she draped her legs over the edge of the couch and pushed herself up. Before her eyes were even fully open, a pair of strong hands folded around hers.

  “Hungry?” he asked, helping her to stand, but not stepping back. Their baby kept them apart with her belly pressed against his hips. Turning her eyes upward Thane looked down at her with a fierce fire burning in his. “Hard to get close to you these days,” he teased gently.

  “Very funny.” She began to teeter backwards, but he caught her around the waist and steadied her.

  Crouching, he said to her stomach, “How was your nap, beautiful?” Massaging his hand across his daughter, he leaned forward and kissed her bulbous bow.

  Instead of being ticked, she had more important things on her mind. “She has to go pee,” she said, swiftly feeling the need with the baby squishing her bladder.

  “She does?” Thane looked up at her with a start. “Oh, yeah, right. I fixed the downstairs bathroom. Toilet flushes now. Dinner’s ready in a…oh, shit.” Thick smoke swirled from the barbeque, and he put it into SEAL speed gear, running for the patio.

  A gurgle of laughter coiled its way up her throat. “Burnt dinner, you mean.” She shook her head and did a fine imitation of a penguin toward the bathroom.

  After cleaning up, she joined him on the patio. The massive backyard was once a pristine lawn, but nature had her way. Tall weeds and grass changed manicured into eclectic. Trees and wild flowers had taken over, and a small sapling took root in the middle of the lawn, looking sadly alone and out of place. Remnants of long-dead fires blackened the cement blocks of the fire pit, yet green sprouts of summer found their way through the scorched earth and ash to reach the air. Her thoughts wandered to the night it had been alive with flame and friends huddled around it. She swallowed and quickly glanced away. Breathing in the warm, clean air, she turned to see Thane babysitting his chicken, but he watched her with a reminiscent look.

  “It was a night I’ll never forget,” he said, clamping the edge of a thigh, turning it and glancing back at her. “Surrounded by friends, sharing with them how much I love you. Believe it or not, it was one of the scarier things I’ve done.”

  She crossed her arms and stared down at her feet, or where her feet used to be. “Things change,” she said quietly.

  “Nothing’s changed.”

  “I’ll get us something to drink.” She escaped into the kitchen.

  In the three weeks since Thane had pushed his way back into her life, he’d put weight back on and his body marbled with strong roaming muscles. He ran and used an old weight set that he found tucked away in the garage, strengthening his arms and legs. His hair was longer and he didn’t look like a guy straight out of the ranks, but some flippin’ hawt guy that would turn an entire line of women’s head on a beach, if he walked by. She hated that her heart still fluttered wildly when he looked at her.

  She returned with a beer for him and a glass of milk for herself. Just about to sit down, her eyes strayed to him and she saw an odd patch on the back of his shirt. It looked wet and discolored. “What’s that?” she asked taking a step for a closer look.

  “Chicken, at least I hope its chicken.” A grin stretched his square jaw line when he glanced back over his shoulder at her.

  “No, I mean that.” She pointed.

  He looked around and above. “What, Kayla?”

  “Take your shirt off.”

  “Oh. No, dinner’s ready,” he said quickly.

  Her hands settled on her hips. “Take the chicken off and your shirt too.”

  He removed the chicken from the barbeque, enough to feed four of them and placed it on the large patio table he’d already set. “Kayla, it’s all right. Come on let’s eat.”

  She stood her ground. “I’m not eating until you take your shirt off, and she’s,” pointing at her stomach, “hungry.”

  Thane pulled her seat out. “That’s not fair.”

  “Too bad. She’s starving.”

  “It’s not something you wanna see before eating, believe me.” He turned off the barbeque elements and twisted the gas line shut, then closed the lid.

  When she squared a hard look on him, he gave in. Slowly he undid each button, revealing his chest. She tried her hardest not to let her eyes walk down and over each sweeping bulge on his abdomen as he pulled his shirt wider. Why the hell did he have to look like that?

  A memory flickered in her mind. The day he’d rescued her from the unsavory real estate agent, she’d watched him dry himself off and had followed the fine line of hair against a taut stomach reaching from his navel to places that made her blush. She knew those places intimately now, and they’d brought a lot of pleasure.

  “What are you thinking about, Kayla?”

  “What,” her gaze popped to his. “Nothing.”

  Sliding the shirt off his broad shoulders and down corded arms, he never took his eyes off her. She steered away from the shot of excitement as lava oozed through her blood. “Turn around,” she said a little too harshly, seeing him hesitate. The creases around his too blue eyes deepened making her bones soften. Looking toward the back yard instead of him, she swirled her finger around indicating he should turn.

  He did as she asked. “Oh, Thane.” She didn’t think, she just reached out and slid her hand along the wounds. A tremble under his skin followed her touch. “This is badly infected.” The wound was puffy and seeping fluid.

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  “Is there a medical kit in the house?”

  “Yeah, there’s one in the storage room. Industrial-sized. Being up here, they needed to be prepared for anything. I think it’s still there.”

  “I’ll get it,” she said, turning for the door.”

  “No.” He caught her around the shoulders. “I will, stay here.”

  “Look for penicillin, you’re going to need some. If not, we have to go to town right away.”

  A few minutes later Thane returned with a couple bottles, bandages, and gauze.

  She waited inside by the kitchen table. “Sit down,” she ordered, taking the bottle of hydrogen peroxide from him and the cloth.

  He shook a small bottle with some pills in it. “It’s out of date, but there’s about five days worth in here.”

  She ran a glass of water and handed it to him. “Take one now. How many times a day?”

  Thane scanned the label. “Three.”

  “Sit.” He followed her order and she cleaned the wound. He didn’t flinch, but the angry skin and flesh had to be painful. “Tell me if I hurt you,�
�� she said, gently dabbing at the area.

  “You want the truth?” he asked quietly.

  “Of course I do,” concentrating on what she was doing.

  “Every day, every hour, and every second.”

  “What?” then she realized her mistake. “You know what I’m talking about.”

  “You asked,” but she could hear in his voice, he had cornered her and he liked it. “Owww.” He jerked away from her.

  “Never piss off a spiteful woman,” she said, easing the heavy hand she’d used to make him jump.

  “You’re not spiteful, never have been.”

  “Don’t count on it.” She dabbed the area dry and inspected it. So, this is what a bullet does. She looked at the other wounds, all healing nicely, and dragged a finger around one of them. “It must have hurt like hell.” Thane’s fingers forked together and then apart.

  “Just about done?” he asked.

  She placed her hand out palm up. “Give me your phone.”

  He turned a look over his shoulder at her. “Why?”

  “Phone.”

  He slipped it from his pocket and laid it in her hand, sliding his fingers against hers. She snatched her hand away and then thumbed through the icons. Finding what she was looking for she steadied and took the picture. She held the phone out for him to see. “That’s bad, isn’t it?”

  He tilted his head and his lips pursed together. “It’s not good.” He took the phone from her and tucked it away.

  Flattening the gauze, she laid it over the injury and ripped a piece of tape off with her teeth, laying long strips to hold it in place, then covered it with another bandage. “We’ll check it tomorrow. If it’s getting worse, you have to see a doctor.”

  “Speaking of which—” He swiveled in his chair and clasped his hands around her hips. “You’ve never seen a doctor, have you?”

  Collecting the bandage wrappers and ignoring his warm hands, she said, “I don’t need to see one.” She tried to step away, but he easily held her in place. Leaning over he kissed her stomach, and slowly raised his gaze up to hers. God, she wished he wouldn’t do that.

  “I’m sure she’s fine, but you need an ultrasound.”

  She shook her head.

  “Yes. One. One to make sure everything is all right.” From the look in his eyes there was going to be no argument.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Five days later, they were still arguing in the car as he drove her fifty miles east to a doctor’s office he’d found that served the ranching communities and far-flung countryside. Thane gave them false names, and said they were new to the area.

  “Whose car is this?” she asked, finally giving up on trying to make him turn around.

  “My sister’s. We traded. She doesn’t want to trade back, apparently.”

  She laughed. “Yeah, I guess not.”

  “There it is” he motioned with a finger, slowing down as they approached a small brown building, mostly obscured by other little buildings, in a town no bigger than a pit stop.

  “These guys have an ultrasound?”

  “Yup.”

  “Do I have an appointment between a sheepdog and a Doberman?” she asked, eyeing the building that needed a fresh coat of paint.

  He chuckled. “Haven’t you ever heard about not judging a book by its cover?”

  Thane parked and was around to her side of the car in a heartbeat, extending his hand. The waiting room was empty except for a woman in her fifties who wore a light blue nurse’s uniform and her hair neatly tucked in a bun. “Mr. and Mrs. Adams?”

  Mr. and Mrs.? She glared up at him.

  “Yes,” Thane said, putting a full wattage smile on his face. “Doc in?”

  “Soon, follow me.”

  Kayla stopped in the door and swallowed deeply. She hated the antiseptic scent of a health care facility. It brought back memories, ones she didn’t want to remember.

  “Sweetheart?” Thane’s brows disappeared into his bangs and he reached a hand out which she ignored.

  “Mrs. Adams, please change into this gown,” the nurse said, holding it out to her. “Then take a seat. Doctor Plymouth will be in shortly. He’s running a little late this morning, but he called and said he’s on his way.”

  She took it hesitantly and looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to change. Holding the gown to her chin, her eyes fell on Thane.

  “Need help?”

  “No I don’t need help!”

  “Kayla come on. I mean—” Thane held his palms up giving her a half-hearted smile. “Sweetheart.”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Adams?” she growled at him.

  “Country people are always married.”

  “Country people? You’re so full of it.”

  “The doc’s gonna be in here in a second.”

  “Turn around.”

  “Kayla—”

  “Turn—a—round.”

  He rolled his eyes and turned. She quickly changed and sat down in the chair, her stomach ballooning out in front of her. “I hate hospitals.”

  “This isn’t a hospital.”

  “Just the same.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  Just before hurtling into a debate, the door swung open and a young doctor, too good-looking to be a physician, came in. The doc looked to be the same age as them. A trim cut styled his thick, brown hair. A couple long strides brought him into the room. The typical white coat swung at his sides, but he wore Levis and a light blue shirt underneath. “Mr. and Mrs. Adams, I’m Mike Plymouth. Nice to meet you.”

  Thane rose and shook his hand. “Hi doc, I’m Sid, this is my wife, Marie.”

  Sid and Marie, right! She held down a chuckle. How friggin’ original.

  “Marie, how are you feeling?” Dr. Plymouth asked, kneeling in front of her and extending a hand.

  “I’m fine, thanks.” Inquisitive blue eyes and a lean face with plenty of charisma gave her the once-over.

  “Good, so I understand you haven’t seen a physician yet in regards to your pregnancy.”

  “No.”

  He nodded and sat on a small stool with a round seat able to turn circles unhindered next to the small cabinet with the usual disinfectant wipes, gloves and hazardous waste containers. Swiping a pen from his pocket, he asked, “Do you have any idea when the baby was conceived?”

  “No.”

  “January third or tenth,” Thane piped out at the same time.

  Both the doc and she turned their attention to him.

  Thane gave him a raised brow. “I think.”

  Here Thane, thought I’d give you a baby for your birthday since I didn’t have time to pick up anything else. She remembered January tenth well enough. A bullet had whizzed close enough to her ear to feel its friction. Thane had saved her life, again, and that night, all night, he’d made love to her. How the hell could a woman not get pregnant? Without thinking, her fingers played with his Budweiser hanging around her neck. She’d taken it off a dozen times, but put it right back on again. A soft smile on Thane’s lips made her drop her hand.

  “Okay,” the doc plucked a pen from his pocket. “When’s your birthday, Kayla?”

  “July tenth, nineteen seventy-three.”

  Dr. Plymouth nodded as he wrote and then grinned up at her. “Well, happy birthday, then.”

  A whoosh swept from Thane’s lips like an open air gauge. She hadn’t kept track of the days either. Thirty-seven, today. She avoided both their gazes. “Thank you.”

  “Is this your first child?”

  “Yes, but I…had several miscarriages years ago.”

  “How many? Miscarriages, I mean.”

  “Twelve.”

  The doc stopped scribbling and slowly turned his attention on her. Thane’s grin dimmed. “Did you say twelve?”

  She put her attention on the beige linoleum tiles of the floor, marred by old scratches and marks that couldn’t be washed away. It sort of resembled her. “Yes.”

  Without missing a beat, he
asked, “How long did you carry them?”

  “Varied,” she said, not wanting to get into details.

  “Marie had a very laborious job. She never sits still,” Thane filled in with an unconvincing lie.

  The doc eyed Sid and then her. There were no cows around, but the smell of bullshit hung in the air. “Did you carry longer than six months?”

  “No, I usually lost them around four or less.”

  “Well, this lil’ one seems determined,” he gave her a warm smile.

  Why was it when a man smiled with honest warmth, it made a woman woozy, and drew a mirrored smile from her own lips.

  “Why don’t we see how he or she is doing?” He stood up, pulled on a pair of gloves from a cardboard box on the counter and walked to the ultrasound situated next to the examining table.

  Thane offered a hand to help her from the chair. Eyeing the doctor, she saw him grasp the wand and the gel. The memory of each lost child layered her skin with cold sweat. Twelve I’m sorries from the past plucked the strings of fear in her belly.

  Dr. Plymouth swiveled, situating himself beside her. When she didn’t move, more or less keeping her gown tucked tightly around her, the doc shot a look at Thane, and then back at her. “Mrs. Adams, I need to apply the gel.”

  Reluctantly, she complied and laid back. Thane’s fingers slid through hers, and she was glad for his reassurance, but it didn’t relax her one little bit. Dr. Plymouth pulled at her gown, and she stiffened even more. Again, the doc looked at Thane.

  “Ka…Marie, I think you need to relax,” Thane said, and his hand gently swept beneath the cloth, against her bare hip, and across her lower abdomen. No matter how much she resisted him, the second his skin touched hers, her body responded, and she relaxed. Thane’s warm palm laid flat, his thumb brushing the top of her mons. To her chagrin, she moistened.

  Dr. Plymouth gave a slight nod, and brushed the garment aside, quickly covering it with the gel. “Have you experienced any pain during your pregnancy?”