by Rue Allyn
“I don’t have a spare bedroom.” Tam scrambled for excuses to keep him at a distance. She wanted him close enough to see she was doing fine on her own but not so close he could cut up her peace.
He studied her. “I saw three doors down that hallway to Susa’s room. What’s behind the other two?”
She stiffened. “My room and my aunt’s.”
“Your aunt lives here?” No wonder Tam can’t get a date. What man wanted to deal with both a potential stepdaughter and a matron aunt while getting to know a woman?
Tam’s hands twisted together. “Sort of.”
“What do you mean sort of?” She looked like she wanted to bolt. He took a step toward her.
Tam retreated. “She has her own home on the other side of Phoenix, but because she’s here so often visiting or helping with Susa, I gave her the spare bedroom.”
He stalked her. “I haven’t seen her. Is she visiting now and just out for the evening?”
“Not exactly.” Her hands went from twisting each other to rubbing at her temples, and she stepped sideways along the wall toward the door.
He planted one hand between her and the door then caged her with the other hand. “Is that like sort of?”
“No, she’s on vacation. She left yesterday for a month.” Tam turned a pleading gaze on him.
He ran a finger down her cheek and leaned in to inhale her woman-and-peaches scent. “Then there’s no reason I couldn’t borrow her room. Four weeks should be enough time for Susa and me to get acquainted and for us to figure out the next steps.” He prayed it would be enough time to convince Tam she belonged with him as much as their daughter did.
“I guess.” She pushed past the arm separating her from the door. “I’ll go clear out a couple of drawers for you while you get your suitcase.”
She looked so troubled and woebegone that he couldn’t resist taking her hand and tugging her to a halt. That she didn’t resist surprised him. “Don’t worry, Tam. It won’t be as bad as you think.”
****
Having Con in the house was much worse than she’d thought. She lay in bed that night listening to the quiet and imagining his hard lean body beside her. In her mind, his fingers played with her hair. She stroked his torso, savoring the solid feel of him, while he dusted lazy kisses across her face and all the way down to her toes. Her belly clenched as she remembered the heat, the soaring pleasure and shared ecstasy of being in Con’s arms. She’d adored making love with him. The feel of him, the taste, the sounds he made when he finally lost control, the fierce pleasure of his body within hers. Now only silence came through the door she always left open so she could hear Susa.
Angry for wanting what she shouldn’t have, for being unable to stop thinking about him, she twisted onto her side. She punched her pillow, as if that might smash the betraying images from her mind.
Somehow she fell asleep because the sound of voices woke her. Voices! Her heart raced. Was the house being burgled? Everyone was asleep. No one should be talking. Holding her breath she eased from the bed. Susa! She had to protect her daughter. Weapon. I need a weapon. All that came to mind was the bowling ball stored at the back of her closet. She crept to the closet, eased the door open, reached in, grasped the handles of the ball bag and dragged it forward. Thank heaven for good carpet; the bag would have made a horrible noise against tile or hardwood.
Staying quiet slowed her, but she moved as quickly as possible, the nine pound ball cradled in her arms. Through the bedroom door, guided by the nightlight, she slipped down the dim hallway.
The voices ceased as Tam approached. She didn’t care if the invaders stole everything in the house. She would keep her daughter safe.
The door to Susa’s room was open, so Tam peered inside. Outlined by the moonlight coming in the window a dark figure stood over the bed. She lifted the bowling ball above her head. Growling “NO!” she rushed the figure.
In that instant the man turned.
Con! Shirtless! Barefoot. Loose cotton pajama pants hanging on his hips clinging to his thighs.
“Tam?”
She tried to release the bowling ball and stop, but momentum carried her forward.
Con’s arms stretched out.
The ball dropped, banging her knee, at the same time she plowed into his chest. They went down in a heap. Her shoulder bumped against the side rail of Susa’s bed, and Con’s weight knocked her breath away.
“Mommy?”
“I can’t breathe,” Tam gasped. “Get off me.”
“Sorry.” Con scrambled to his feet.
Air rushed into Tam’s lungs.
“Mommy?”
Susa’s plaintive cry finally reached Tam’s ears. Ignoring her own hurts, she sat up and took Susa’s hand. “It’s all right fairy girl. Everything’s okay. You can go back to sleep.”
“I don’t feel good.”
Tam put her hand on Susa’s forehead. Her child was burning up. “Con, get me a washcloth soaked in cold water.” While Con went for a compress, Tam took her daughter’s temperature.
Con returned, and Tam placed the compress on Susa’s forehead, then checked the small clock on the bedside table. 5:38 a.m. “Mommy’s going to call the doctor. Con will stay with you until I get back.” Worry tensing every muscle, she looked to her ex-lover. He nodded.
Tam disappeared toward her bedroom. Con sat on the edge of Susa’s bed and took her hand. He’d seen the worry in Tam’s eyes. Queasy, unwelcome fear clutched at him.
“Will you tell me a story?”
Con didn’t think any story he knew would be fit for six-year-old ears. “I’m not very good at that. How about if I sing you a song?”
“Okay, but make it a long one.”
Con was no opera star, but he had a pleasant baritone and could carry a tune. He launched into a rendition of “There was an old lady…”
Susa smiled as he revealed that after swallowing a fly the old woman swallowed a spider. His daughter must be ill if she couldn’t even giggle at the absurd image. The silly song of a woman who could swallow just about anything but a horse had been one of his childhood favorites, probably because of all of the gore and mayhem that the tune conjured for a little boy. Given that Susa was a girl (and from the look of her room, a girly girl) perhaps he should have chosen a different song. However, he’d already started on the old lady.
Susannah’s eyelids drooped, and her head slipped sideways on the pillow. He didn’t want to wake her by switching to another song. By the time the old woman attempted to swallow a horse and suffered serious consequences, Susa was snoring mildly. Con leaned over to check her compress. It was nearly dry. He released his daughter’s hand, took the cloth, then stood, intending to soak the cloth once more. He turned to find Tam watching him from the door.
“How long have you been there?” he whispered.
She grinned. “Long enough to wonder how the old lady managed to swallow all that stuff.”
As she came into the room, the light from the hallway turned her thin nightgown to gossamer. The outline of her body showed dark against the translucent cloth. He swallowed, restraining the urge to take her where she stood.
“Do we need to take Susa to the ER?”
Chapter Twelve
Leaving the door to Susa’s room open so they could hear if she woke, Tam led the way to the kitchen.
“Are you certain you want coffee now?” asked Con.
“I won’t be able to sleep until I know Susa’s fever is down. The coffee will help.”
She busied herself measuring dry grounds into the filter-lined basket.
Con filled the carafe with water that he poured into the coffeemaker. Then he leaned against the counter, folding his arms across his chest. “So what did the doctor say?”
Tam started the coffee brewing.
“He thinks it’s just a fever spike typical for a bad cold. I’m supposed to keep an eye on her and bring her to the office or the ER if the office isn’t open, immediately if her tempera
ture rises above 101 degrees.”
Tam shook her head. She had a full day of meetings and work. The work she could manage from home, but those meetings were with new clients and would go a long way to replacing the lost Buddswell contracts. She stared at the dripping coffee, wondering how to watch over Susa and earn a living at the same time.
Con ran a finger over her cheekbone, scooping her hair back behind her ear. She shivered at the slight caress. “Staring at it doesn’t make coffee brew faster.”
She shrugged. If she looked at Con, she was liable to throw herself into his arms. That was no way to show him she was doing fine without him.
“Is something wrong?”
Finally the dripping ceased and she was able to pour the coffee into mugs. “Coffee’s ready.”
Con’s hands stilled her in the midst of lifting the mugs from the counter. She set them down and made the mistake of looking into his green gaze. A familiar tenderness stared back at her making her heart clutch.
“What’s the matter, Tam? Tell me.”
His lean solid strength, the understanding in those depthless misty eyes that said he knew her worries and woes—all rushed back at her, and she leaned her head against his chest.
“I’ve been working overtime since I got back from Montana. My business loan is coming up for renewal the first week in June. I’m asking for an increase, and I need to make sure I can show sufficient growth potential to convince the lender that I’m still a good risk. A contract with Buddswell would have clinched it. Since I gave up that opportunity, I’ve had to scramble. This week I’ve got days full of meetings that I hope will result in agreements with new clients. To secure the loan increase, I need each of them to provide letters of intent to sign contracts with me as soon as I can increase the size of my truck fleet. The new trucks are already on order. I have plenty of warehouse space. The loan increase will guarantee that I can pay for the trucks and handle more inventory. I’m doing this all so Susa and I can have a good life, but I can’t leave my daughter when she’s sick.”
Con shifted, and she found herself folded against his body, his arms circling her, keeping her safe. He smiled down at her. “I don’t know if I should be offended or just sad that you wouldn’t think I could take care of Susa while you’re out of the house.”
Resting her palms against his chest, she frowned. She did doubt his parenting abilities, but when had she given him a chance to prove them? “How many sick six-year-olds have you cared for?”
“She has a cold, Tam. How different can that be from caring for an adult who has a cold? Take her temp every couple of hours. Lots of liquids. Bed rest. Over-the-counter cough or sinus meds to ease the symptoms. She’s not allergic to any of those, is she?”
“None that I know of.”
“You can give me the rundown that you’d give to any sitter along with your cell phone number. Susa and I will do fine.”
Tam hesitated. She hated leaving Susa, but the meetings were important to Susa’s wellbeing too. What really bothered Tam was the possibility of Susa forming an attachment to Con, when Con’s reliability as a father was unproven.
What better way to prove that Con is a capable and loving dad than to leave him alone with her daughter? “All right.”
“Thank you.” He bent his head and brushed a light kiss across her lips.
Of its own volition, one of Tam’s hands slid upward and snaked around Con’s neck to grip his nape and hold him in place. Then she lifted on her toes to add pressure to the contact. His mouth was just as welcoming as she remembered. Firm, smooth, with a hint of cinnamon. Wanting more, she swept her tongue across the seam of his lips.
He opened. Their tongues danced. His hands gripped her buttocks molding her body to his.
Heat rushed over her. She couldn’t get enough. She stroked a hand down his shoulder and arm to his hip. Her fingers curled into the loose waistband of his PJs.
He rained kisses across her cheeks and ran his teeth over her earlobe.
Her nipples peaked. She labored to catch her breath. Needy, she nuzzled the pulse beating in his throat and ground her hips against his. “Lord, Tam, you’re torturing me.” His nimble fingers found her breast, playing their own tantalizing game.
She wanted to touch him, make love to him, and show him everything she dared not say. If she even hinted that she still loved him, he’d use that against her. The life she’d built for Susa and herself would be lost in an instant of passion.
“No more than you’re torturing me.” She tore herself away when what she wanted most was to strip him bare and have her way with him right there in the kitchen, on the counter, the table, the floor. Breathing hard, she stopped the headlong rush to passion and sex. “We can’t do this.”
He frowned, perplexed. “Why not? We did it in Montana, and while the earth moved, it didn’t stop turning.”
She smiled. “Thank you. I felt the earth move too, and I’m as aware as you are, if not more, that the world keeps turning. Life goes on, Con, and you aren’t part of my life anymore.”
He stilled to stone. Had she hurt him again?
“We just kissed each other senseless. How can you say I’m not part of your life?”
She stepped back, folding her arms across her chest. “I enjoy sex, Con.”
“That’s obvious.” He gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, whitened knuckles the only sign that he felt anything.
“But I don’t live for sex, and face it, sex is pretty much all you and I have going for us.”
“That’s not true. We have plenty going for us.”
“Really? Like what?”
Con’s whole body hurt from unsated lust, and he could barely form coherent sentences, let alone remember all the things that linked him with Tam. Desperate, he blurted, “Susa.”
Tam gave a rueful laugh. “Sorry, but right now, Susa’s more like a bone of contention than a shared benefit.”
“The distribution business.”
She shook her head. “I’ll grant you that we both have an interest, but we’re competitors, not partners.”
“What about our past. We shared close to a year together. That must count for something?”
“As opposed to the past seven years that we spent apart? I think not.”
“Dammit, Tam. Give me a chance?”
“I am giving you a chance. You’re taking care of my daughter today and probably for the rest of the week.”
“Our daughter.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re staying here and filling in for my aunt. That means you’ll pick Susa up at school, make dinner and do countless chores that I’ve neglected and won’t have time for until the client negotiations and loan approval are complete. Don’t try to tell me I’m not giving you a chance.”
“Then why are you so determined to put barriers between us?”
“Because I still don’t know if I can trust you to be a good father to Susa or if you’ll walk away at the end of four weeks and leave us wondering if you’ll ever come back.” There it was, plain as the moon in the cloudless nighttime sky.
“You don’t know if you can trust me, or you don’t want to trust me?”
“If I had been able to trust you, do you think I’d have stayed away?”
Her words struck his heart like a fifty-ton rock. “I guess I have my answer.”
“Yes.” Her shoulders slumped. She looked exhausted and deeply disappointed. “I guess you do.”
To press her any more right now would be self-defeating and cruel. She wasn’t in any shape to think logically or compromise. “You’re wiped out. Go back to bed and get some sleep.”
“I doubt I could sleep, but I’d appreciate it if you’d listen for Susa while I shower and get dressed.”
“The work day is still three hours off. You need to be sharp for those meetings you’re having.”
“I’ll be ready. In fact a couple extra hours of preparation will help more than a few restless hours in bed.”
“I
can’t talk you out of staying up, can I?”
“No.” She shook her head.
“Go take your shower. I’ll be in Susa’s room when you’re done.”
He stared after Tam as she left. He’d never wanted any other woman the way he wanted her. Until she’d reappeared at that conference, his life had felt wrong, out of kilter. Once in Arizona that wrongness had righted itself. He knew with granite certainty that he, Tam, and Susa belonged together. Proving that to Tam was a lot harder than he expected, and for the first time in their relationship, he worried that she might never be convinced.
****
That day set a pattern for the rest of the week. By Friday Susa was back in school, but Tam had to work late. Con was the one picking her daughter up, taking Susa to ballet practice, and making dinner.
At seven that night an exhausted Tam opened the door from her garage into a house filled with giggles, howls, happy screams, and the scent of pork roast. She set her briefcase and laptop down on the washer, then followed the giggles and howls to the living room. She found Con down on all fours chasing an ecstatic Susa through a maze constructed from an ottoman and several chairs abducted from the dining room.
Squealing with glee Susa dashed past her mother without a word to huddle on the far side of the denuded dining room table. When Con, still on all fours, also didn’t take notice of Tam, she stepped into his path.
“Whoa there, fella. What’s going on here?”
Con looked up at her. “Rrwoof!”
Her brow wrinkled.
“Mommy, Mommy, we’re playing hound dog.” Susa ran up and tugged on Tam’s skirt.
“Hound dog?”
“Yes.” Her daughter became serious. “A hound dog is a dog that hunts and chases. Con’s the hound dog, and I’m the little girl he’s chasing because he doesn’t have a home and he wants me to pet him and feed him and take him for walks and bring him home so he can sleep at the end of my bed and be all warm and happy instead of cold and lonely.”
Tam allowed her shoulders to sink a fraction. She had a fair idea what was coming.
Con sat back on his heels and imitated a begging dog.
He now reached as tall as Susa, but she patted his head as if he were a Pekinese. “Good dog. Now go to the kitchen and get your bone, while Mommy and I talk.”