If You Don't Know By Now

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If You Don't Know By Now Page 13

by Teresa Southwick


  “For all the good it does me,” he muttered.

  “So it’s true?”

  “Whether it is or not,” he hedged, “there’s no way I’ll act on my feelings.”

  “Why?”

  “I won’t stick Maggie with a guy like me.”

  “And what kind of guy is that?” Jensen folded her hands together and rested them on the desk.

  “Not the kind of man a woman like Maggie deserves.”

  “But, Jack, you two share a daughter. Which, by the way, I have to tell you is a major surprise. I don’t think anyone had a clue the two of you even knew each other.”

  “We had to meet secretly. Because her parents didn’t approve of me. I don’t think they knew how right they were.” He ran a hand through his hair.

  “That was ten years ago. You’ve both grown up. You share a daughter. You’re going to interact. Judging by the sparks I saw, it won’t take much more than that to ignite things again between the two of you.”

  “You’re wrong. I’m Faith’s father. I’m here to protect her legally, with my name. What’s mine will go to her someday.”

  “Yeah. And emotionally?”

  “I won’t turn my back. I’ll be around in a support capacity if she wants me. She’ll never have to search for me. I don’t want her to wind up on a talk show episode—‘Kids Abandoned by Their Father.’”

  Jen smiled sympathetically. “Instead you’ll be in the episode titled—‘The Woman Who Had My Child and Still Got Away.’”

  “I’m not worth it.”

  “Don’t you think that should be her decision?”

  “I’ve done things, Jen. Things you don’t talk about at the Fourth of July picnic, or the V.F.W. dance on Saturday night.”

  “You’re one of those vets who served his country. You’re one of the good guys.”

  “I’ve learned to trust my gut, too. And that’s not what it’s telling me. Sounds like another bad talk show.”

  Jen shook her head. “I’m starting to worry about you, Jack. Next thing I know you’ll start reeling off the plots of daytime soap operas. You need to get a life.”

  “Takes one to know one. You’re alone, too,” he said pointedly. “Although I saw you and Grady at the rodeo, the night I got back into town. That has potential, counselor.”

  “If you’re talking love life, you couldn’t be further from the truth. That’s not in the cards for me,” she declared, her tone adding an exclamation point.

  “Zach’s been gone a long time,” he said, gentling his voice.

  “That’s not what this is about.”

  He stared at her. “Then what is it about? I can’t believe a knockout like you hasn’t had opportunities—”

  “Down, Jack. I had my chance. We’re fixing you right now.”

  “I don’t want to talk about Maggie.”

  “Under stood. But if you’re going to stay in Destiny, you need something to do.”

  “Yeah. I’ve been giving that some thought.” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “I noticed the computer store across the street is still for sale. I was thinking it might have some possibilities.”

  “I heard you’re a whiz on the computer.”

  “That’s the rumor. It’s one of the things I trained for in the army.” He leaned forward. “It might pay in the private sector.”

  “I don’t see why not.” She looked ruefully at the tangle of wires on her own floor that led to her computer. “I managed to plug everything in and get it working, but this isn’t close to what I need. If you’d set up a system for me, I’d be eternally grateful. You can bill me for the time.”

  “You got it.”

  “I’ll bet there are lots of businesses that could use your expertise. I can’t be the only one who doesn’t speak computer. It’s geek to me.”

  “I just need a base of operations,” he said, glancing over his shoulder to the store across the street.

  “I could handle negotiations for you,” she offered. “If you’ll set up my computer system for me.”

  “It’s a deal. Thanks, Jen.”

  She looked past him, through the window. “Here comes trouble.”

  He half turned in his chair to follow her gaze and saw the sheriff walk past the window. “Interesting phrasing. If I didn’t know better, I’d say—”

  “Don’t go there, big guy,” she warned. “You don’t look a thing like Cupid. Grady and I would not appreciate you meddling.”

  “Okay.” He stood. “I have to go.”

  “What’s your hurry?”

  “I’ve got to talk to Grady.”

  “I thought you were warned to steer clear of match-making.”

  He grinned. “Since when is everything about you? There’s something I need to discuss with him and believe it or not, it hasn’t got a thing to do with your love life.”

  One corner of her mouth lifted in a wry half smile. “Okay. Then you’re dismissed.”

  “Thanks for the legal counsel.” He headed for the door.

  “But not the romantic advice?” she asked.

  “On that note, I’ll say goodbye,” he said. “See you.”

  “Later,” she answered.

  He left her and went outside. “Grady,” he called, increasing his stride to catch up with the other man.

  The sheriff turned. “Hey.” He walked back, stopping in front of Destiny’s newest law firm. “You’re just the man I was looking for. I saw you and Maggie go into Jensen’s office. One of my deputies said they’d seen her leave so I thought you had too.”

  She left, all right, Jack thought. Left him in the dust. “Jen and I were talking.”

  “Oh?”

  He studied his friend. There was an edge to his voice, sharp as a hunting knife. He’d bet his last computer chip that Grady O’Connor was jealous.

  “Yeah. We were discussing her love life.”

  “Is that so?” The words sliced the air between them.

  “That’s so,” Jack said, struggling to hide a grin. “She’s hot enough to melt butter, Sheriff.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Grady looked like a green sky about to spit out a tornado.

  “Nothing. Just an observation.”

  “Better be.”

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d believe you were jealous.”

  Grady leaned a shoulder against the post supporting the overhang. “She’s just a friend.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Look, Jack, I’ve got problems and she’s a distraction I don’t need right now. We have to talk. Got a minute?”

  “Yeah. I’ve been looking for information on Billy Bob Adams.”

  “You read my mind.” Grady frowned. “Got anything yet?”

  “’Fraid not. Everything I turned up made him look like a Boy Scout. But as I recall, he was in trouble as a kid.”

  “His folks always covered for him. Those records were probably sealed.”

  “Yeah. But that doesn’t mean there’s nothing recent,” Jack pointed out.

  “What’s your plan?”

  “I want to scan his picture onto some Internet law enforcement sites. Could turn up an alias.”

  Grady nodded. “That occurred to me, too. Can you do it?”

  Worry carved deep lines into the sheriff’s face. The man was facing the loss of his twin daughters unless Jack could come up with something that would help. The thought of two innocent girls in the slimy hands of anyone named Adams turned his blood cold. If someone tried to take Faith from him, he would move heaven and earth to stop it.

  “Of course I can,” Jack assured him.

  “He’s a user, Jack.” Grady ran a hand across the back of his neck. “I feel it in my bones. He’s just like his brother.”

  “My instincts are telling me the same thing. If we’re right, he’s left a trail.”

  Grady nodded. “A leopard doesn’t change his spots.”

  He was proof of that, Jack thought grimly. “I’ll do everything I c
an,” he promised.

  “Let me know if you find anything.”

  “You’ll be the first.”

  “Thanks. Catch you later. I’ve got to run.”

  “I can’t buy you a cup of coffee?”

  “Some of us have gainful employment.” The tension in him eased a bit. “I’ve got work to do.”

  “Some of us are fixing to find work,” Jack countered.

  “It’s about damn time. Otherwise I’d have to run you in for vagrancy. See you later,” he said, grinning. Then he disappeared inside his office.

  Convenient that he and Jensen worked side by side, Jack thought. Maybe that boded well. Maybe the two of them could share something personal, something more than the wall between the spaces where they worked.

  Jack glanced across the street to Maggie’s shop. He sighed as regret, anger and pain twisted together and settled like a rock in his gut. He thought about Grady, facing the loss of his children. The bond he was developing with Faith. He’d only just found out about her, but his feelings were so deep he couldn’t see the other side. While he had breath in his body, no harm would come to her.

  Or Maggie, either. All these years she’d kept Faith a secret, protecting their child—protecting him. Yearning gathered inside him, so thick it pressed on his chest, nearly cutting off his air. If only he could be the kind of man Maggie deserved—a forever-after-till-death-do-us-part kind of guy.

  But he wasn’t. And he’d caused her enough pain. Now it was his turn to protect her. By pretending he didn’t care. If it was the last thing he ever did, he would make sure his heart got that message.

  Chapter 11

  While Faith was at baseball practice, Maggie washed lettuce for their dinner salad. When she shut off the water, she heard an odd sound, like a watermelon going splat. Over and over again. She walked to the open door and realized the noise was coming from the backyard next door.

  Jack.

  The last time she’d seen him was earlier that day at Jensen’s. Actually, that wasn’t exactly the truth. She’d opened the shop, then kept her eye on the lawyer’s office, counting the minutes he lingered with the stunning attorney. Jealousy was such an ugly thing and she hated to admit to it. But Maggie finally had to face the fact that she’d been green with envy—from celery to hunter and every shade in between.

  Jack hadn’t emerged from Jensen Stevens’s office until Grady O’Connor had passed by and the two men had talked for several minutes. A pretty intense conversation if their body language was anything to go by. Then she’d seen Jack get in his car and drive out of town. She hadn’t seen him since that morning.

  Thump, thump, thump.

  It sounded like he was hitting something. Maybe it was curiosity or just an over whelming urge to see him, but Maggie let herself out the sliding screened door and peeked through the slat in the shared fence. The “aha” light went on when she saw the punching bag suspended from the sturdy frame of his patio cover. He was wearing a white T-shirt and gray sweat shorts. She sighed and hated herself for it.

  Earlier that day in Jensen’s office, she’d hardly said two words to him. She hadn’t been able to let go of her anger at his pushing her away. It was a mystery to her how he could kiss her breath less and make her toes curl, then act as if nothing had happened. She’d sworn he was turned on, too. And she didn’t think he was that good an actor. By God, she wanted an explanation.

  And she wanted it now.

  Afraid she would lose her resolve or give him too much of a heads-up if she took the longer route through her gate and then his, she climbed the tree. She shimmied across the limb on her backside before turning to her tummy to let herself down. Her exertions escalated her breathing and drowned out sounds, which ac counted for why she didn’t hear him approach. Without warning his hands were at her waist, lifting her effortlessly to the ground.

  She turned to face him. “I have a bone to pick with you, buster.”

  “Okay.”

  When he brushed his arm across the sweat on his forehead, Maggie noticed his red knuckles, some of them scraped.

  “New toy?” she said, lifting her chin in the direction of the punching bag.

  He glanced over his shoulder. “A stress reliever. Every guy should have one.”

  “What about women?”

  His gaze narrowed on her. “Why do I have the feeling that’s a loaded question?”

  “I really couldn’t say.”

  “If I answer yes, you’ll accuse me of something that I can’t even guess. If I say no, you’ll give me the women-are-as-capable-as-men speech.”

  She folded her arms beneath her breasts as she struggled to suppress a smile. The last thing she wanted to do was smile. Earlier, she’d been mad enough to spit nails. Now she was fighting to maintain the momentum. If she couldn’t protect herself with anger, there was nowhere left to hide.

  “Women are more capable than men. There’s a reason the West wasn’t settled until women got here. You might be bigger and stronger—”

  Why did she pick that moment to zero in on his broad chest and muscled arms that would make a dyed-in-the-wool manhater whimper? Another telltale sigh welled up inside her and she barely managed to push it away, taking great satisfaction from her new mind-over-mas-culinity resolve.

  “Go on,” he urged, not bothering to hide his own satisfied smile.

  “What?”

  “Bigger and stronger?”

  “Oh. That’s a no-brainer,” she said, reaching out to do the squeeze test on his rock-hard biceps. She swallowed—hard. “Guys are stronger. But women have every thing else going for them.”

  “You won’t get any argument from me about that.”

  His gaze moved over her from the top of her head, down her cropped yellow tank top and matching shorts, to her bare legs and feet. A gleam slid into his blue eyes. Somehow she knew he’d tried to suppress it and couldn’t. So, she wasn’t completely off base. She would bet everything she owned that he was attracted to her, too. So why had he pretended otherwise? She was going to find out, or break her heart trying.

  “Did you climb over the fence just to insult me or was there something specific on your mind?” he asked, as if reading her thoughts.

  “Actually there is something.”

  “Shoot.” Still in the shade of the branches, he folded his arms over his chest and leaned back against the fence to listen.

  She let out a long breath as she grappled with the thoughts tumbling through her mind, trying to bring some rational order to them.

  “Any time today would be good, Mags.”

  She met his gaze and put her hands on her hips. “Okay. I was trying to think of a way to sugar coat this, but I’ll give it to you straight.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  “Don’t make fun of me, Jack.”

  “Perish the thought.”

  “Why did you get my motor running when you had no intention of stepping on the gas?”

  He blinked. “You want to trans late that for me, Magpie?”

  “I think it’s pretty clear. Last night—”

  “What?”

  “You kissed me as if you really and truly meant it. You wanted me. Then with no more explanation than— and I quote—‘It won’t work,’ you walked away. What’s that about, Jack?”

  Instantly his laid-back manner disappeared. He straightened away from the fence and walked to the patio, stopping beside the punching bag.

  She followed. Her cheeks were hot with humiliation, but she’d started this and retreat was no longer an option. “You might as well answer me, Jack. I’m not going away until I get an explanation. I’ll wait you out. Redheads have a reputation for temper. But our stubborn perseverance is a well-guarded secret. So spill.”

  He spun toward her, his eyes bleak. “Okay. It’s like this. I liked kissing you. I want you. Probably more than you’ll ever know.”

  Her heart soared at his words. “So what’s the problem?”

  “I�
�m no good for you.”

  She shook her head. “Who died and put you in charge of unilateral decisions?”

  “Damn it’s hot,” he said, grabbing the bottom of his T-shirt. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

  “Why not? I want to make it as hard on you as possible. I think you should know—”

  As she’d been talking, he pulled his shirt off and she was speech less. It wasn’t the impressive expanse of chest covered with a masculine dusting of hair that silenced her. It was the scars. Several of them. The long, thin red line on his abdomen, just above the waist band of his shorts, had been a knife wound she guessed. Another wide mark on his shoulder might have been the path of a bullet that winged him. But the circular discoloration way too close to his heart stole the breath from her lungs and made her palms sweat. Fear, for what he’d gone through, for how close he’d come to dying, was a bitter taste in her mouth.

  She moved close to him and traced the crescent-shaped scar. “Oh, Jack,” she whispered.

  He gripped her wrist and held her hand just a fraction of an inch from his flesh. “No pity. Not from you.”

  “It’s not that—”

  “You’re wrong. That’s all it can ever be.” He dropped her hand as if it had burned him.

  “Why?”

  “We’re too different, Maggie.”

  “Last night I, for one, was grateful for the differences. You’re a man, I’m a woman. The rest is chemistry.”

  “It’s got nothing to do with chemistry,” he said roughly, glancing down at the mark on his chest.

  “I think I’m as qualified as you to be the judge of that.”

  “You’ve got stars in your eyes. You still believe in fantasies, a happy ending.”

  “Why shouldn’t I?” When he didn’t respond, she protested, “I’m not what you think I am. I’ve got flaws and weak nesses. You said it yourself—a redhead’s temper is legendary.”

  He shook his head. “You’re sunshine and rainbows. I’m not.”

  A harsh laugh, just this side of hysterical, burst from her throat. She fought down the urge to give in to it. “If I was bigger, I would shake some sense into you. I’d shake you until your teeth rattled.”

  “I’ve killed people.”

  That stopped her. She’d never known anyone who’d taken a life. “In self-defense. To save others.”

 

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