“I meant to tell you to watch for flying ravioli bites,” she said a moment too late, as a little piece of cheese pasta landed on her shirt to the accompaniment of baby laughter.
“No, no, no, Henry Stark,” Allie said firmly. “No throwing food.”
The baby boy picked up another piece of ravioli and put it in his mouth.
“Excellent job this time, Henry,” Theo said, quickly eating a few bites himself. “Never a dull moment, that’s for sure.”
She took a sip of the white wine she’d poured for them. “Oh, the dull moments are plenty, too. Trust me.”
He laughed and took a sip of his own wine. Theo loved a particular kind of local craft beer, but she hadn’t bought that in forever. She’d certainly pick up a six-pack tomorrow. And some of his other favorites. He liked those salty pretzel rods. And coffee-chip ice cream. Everything bagels and vegetable cream cheese. English muffins with sharp cheddar cheese. Tomato juice, which she also loved. She had plenty of that. “The ravioli is delicious. As always. I’ve missed your incredible talent in the kitchen.”
“You were always fun to cook for. You love everything.”
It was one of the few areas they’d never had issues. She cooked, he ate with gusto and appreciation. No matter what recipes she tested on him.
There were a few more flung ravioli pieces, but the babies were fed and then it was bath time. There Theo was on his knees beside her in front of the tub, four little ones in the bubble bath. With his help lathering up wispy hair and gently washing backs and necks, the four Stark kids were clean and in fresh pajamas lickety-split. There was more playtime in the family room, and then it was time for bed. The quads were each settled in their cribs, the lullaby player on low, the black-out shades down and just a soft lamp illuminating the glider chair.
“I usually read them a story before bed,” she said, sitting down and reaching toward the bookshelf beside the chair.
“I’ll do the honors.”
She smiled and got up, sitting down on the heart-dotted beanbag chair her sister Merry had bought as a Valentine’s present.
Theo went to the bookshelf and pulled out a few books before making his choice. She was surprised he differentiated. He sat down in the glider, the lamp illuminating his face, his gorgeous face that she’d dreamed about almost every night.
“This book is called Four Little Ponies,” Theo said, glancing through the bars of each crib, then back at the book in his hands. “‘Four ponies live in a big yellow barn,’” he began and read the story about the pony brothers and sisters.
By the time he finished, Allie was half asleep herself, his voice lulling her. It had been one hell of a day and she was exhausted.
The book finished, he got up and peered in all the cribs. She saw that the quads were asleep—well, except for Henry, whose little eyes were drooping, drooping... Ah, now he was asleep, too.
“Well done,” she whispered.
He smiled. “I think a piece of ravioli landed inside my shirt. I could use a shower.”
A shower. Suddenly, the thought of Theo Stark, six feet two, one hundred ninety pounds of gorgeous maleness, naked in her shower, sent a delicious, long-denied frisson of heat through all her nerve endings.
“I’ll just grab my bag from the truck and be right back,” he said.
“One bag? That’s all you have?”
He nodded. “I was a ghost the past two years. Ghosts don’t require much.”
Her heart squeezed. She couldn’t begin to imagine what his life had been like all that time. She wanted to know everything. About the cattle ranch. What his assumed name had been. If he’d been in constant contact with the FBI agent and marshal. How that had all worked.
But Theo was already heading down the steps and out the front door, so she’d save her questions for when he returned.
And boy, did she have a lot of questions.
* * *
Theo put on his sunglasses and Stetson before he stepped out. The sun had long set, but the houses were close together in this neighborhood and he didn’t want to freak out any of the neighbors with his presence just yet. Freaking people out was on the agenda for tomorrow morning.
The cold mid-December air was bracing and refreshing. Theo grabbed his duffel bag from the back of the pickup and slung it over his shoulder, again struck by the lack of Christmas at 22 Wood Road. The neighbors’ houses were all lit up; two doors down there was even a Santa and his reindeer in a sleigh lit up on the roof.
But Allie, who loved Christmas, had barely strung lights around one tree. As if she’d have time, he realized. Village rallying or not, Allie had been alone the past two years. She’d gone through what must have been a difficult pregnancy without him. Raised the babies for a year without him. She’d clearly given everything to the quads and taken little for herself.
He came back in the house to find Allie sitting on the second step, her blond hair in a ponytail. She popped up. “Master bathroom is still in the same place. Everything you’ll need is there.”
He nodded. “Thank you.” He headed up the stairs and into the bathroom, which was surprisingly roomy for a small house. He stripped naked and turned on the shower, then stepped in under the hot spray. Man, that felt good. His big frame had been stuck behind the wheel of the pickup for several hours this morning; then seeing Allie and explaining himself had stiffened his muscles even more. Now he could relax. He soaped up and washed his hair, using Allie’s shampoo, a clean, fresh smell he’d always associate with her.
Five minutes later, dressed in faded old jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, he emerged from the bathroom, slicking back his hair. Allie was coming out of her bedroom—their bedroom?—and stopped dead in her tracks.
“I didn’t hear you come out,” she said, staring at him. “Water pressure okay? Hot enough?”
She was nervous, he realized. “Shower was great. Did the trick. I feel like a million bucks.”
“Good,” she said. “Because I have questions.”
He nodded. “I’m sure. And you deserve answers. I’ll tell you everything, Allie.”
She eyed his clothes. “All your things are in the attic. I couldn’t bear giving your stuff away, but my sisters convinced me to at least move your clothes out of the closet.”
He thought of her opening their closet every day, seeing his clothes... He couldn’t imagine how painful that must have been. “I can understand that. I’ll get everything later.”
She nodded, and once again, he followed her down the stairs, this time to the living room.
They sat down on the sofa, each at opposite ends, slightly facing each other.
She pointed to the silver urn on the fireplace mantel. “So what’s really in there?”
He grimaced—at her question and at the sight of the urn. Shame gripped him at what he’d put her through. “I’m not sure.”
For a moment she looked furious and he didn’t blame her. “I want to know the whole story,” she said. “What happened that night?”
He took a sip of the wine she’d moved to the coffee table. “You know I was on a joint task force—a few cops from the PD and the local FBI field office—to catch serial killer Leo McBruin.”
He saw her shudder at the name. Everyone had heard of McBruin for months before that fateful night. A serial killer in Brewster County. There hadn’t been a murder in Wedlock Creek in seventy-five years. Suddenly, a murderer was lurking very close by. Theo had been obsessed with catching the guy, putting him away.
“You okay?” he asked. “I know this is a lot to take in, a lot to hear.”
She took a sip of wine and let out a breath. “No, I want to hear it.”
He nodded. “You know I witnessed him kill a man a couple weeks before that night, but he got away. A lead I followed led me to cross paths with McBruin in an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Wedlock C
reek. It was almost midnight and my shift had long ended, but I had to check it out. So I went alone, figuring I’d call for backup if it panned out. And there he was. Fifteen feet away.”
He heard her suck in a breath this time and he moved closer to her, unsure if he should continue.
“I want to hear it,” she said. “I’m okay, Theo.”
“We locked eyes. He said, ‘You.’ And I knew he recognized me as the witness. He had the coldest eyes I’d ever looked into.”
“I’ll bet,” she said, shaking her head.
He nodded. “I’d gone from a cop who was hunting him to a witness who could testify against him. It was just the two of us in that building. I stayed hidden to assess my shot. But ten minutes into this, he’d clearly done some research on his phone. He started rattling off names of law enforcement officials on the task force, including me. Then he started addressing me by name. And letting me know that he was going to enjoy killing my pretty wife. Her two sisters, too.”
Allie gasped. “My sisters?” What? Lila and Merry had been threatened, too?
He nodded, closing his eyes for a moment. “And then McBruin said, ‘And your dad, who can’t remember his own name in the old folks’ home. Room 241. Cozy setup he has there, Stark.’”
“Oh, Theo,” she said, her voice choked.
He tried to keep a lid on the old rage, the panic that swamped him whenever he thought of those moments. “McBruin was taunting me, trying to get me to come out so he could get a shot at me. Finally, I saw him move into the doorway, then throw something in—a bomb. He ran out, laughing.”
“But you made it out,” she whispered, her face turning white.
He nodded. “McBruin didn’t know that. The explosion destroyed the warehouse, but I’d been able to take a running slide through a shattered part of the back wall and slither through into the dense woods behind it. I was scraped up pretty bad, but no broken bones.”
“Your captain and two officers came to the house in the middle of the night,” she said, her eyes flat. “They told me you were dead. That your barely identifiable body was found in the debris. They said they had your wedding ring, engraved with Forever, Allie inside. Your badge, your ID. How’d you set all that up?”
He hung his head, then looked her in the eyes. “Once I was hidden well enough in the woods and heard a car fire up and peel out, I knew McBruin was gone. I called my FBI contact and reported what happened. I told him he had to announce my death immediately to protect you and your sisters and my dad. It was a split-second decision, but the fed agreed. With me ‘dead,’ McBruin would have no reason to go after you or anyone close to me as leverage.”
The thought of anything happening to Allie, to her family, because of him... It was too much for him to even think about now.
“The plan was for me to disappear and provide further intel as needed on a burner phone, and he would let me know the moment McBruin was either caught or dead. That day finally came very early this morning.”
“Whose body was found in that warehouse?” she asked, gripping her wineglass.
“No one’s,” he said, the shame spiraling again. “There was no body. The FBI agent made it up, got it squared away with a US marshal. He’d met up with me that night and I gave him the ring and my ID, then he handed me some cash so that I could disappear. And I did.”
“Oh, God,” she said, putting down the glass and wrapping her arms around herself.
“And with how bad things were at home, how I was destroying our marriage, breaking your heart on a daily basis, I thought at least you could start over, find someone who’d make you happy.”
“But you did come home,” she said. “What if I’d found that person? What if I was happy and settled?”
He stared at her, unsure what she was saying. Was she disappointed he’d come back? It might not have worked out with Talley, but maybe she was hoping for another nice guy with a safe, more predictable job as a husband and father for the quadruplets.
Regardless, he had to tell her the truth.
“I hadn’t planned on coming back,” he finally admitted. “The plan was to stay dead, no matter what, to let you have the life you deserved.”
“Then why did you come back?” she whispered, her voice breaking.
“The minute I hung up with the agent and marshal this morning, all I wanted was to come home, Allie. To see you. To tell you I was alive. To beg your forgiveness and ask for a second chance. I didn’t expect to feel all that, to need to be with you the way I did. But I wanted to come home more than anything.”
She reached out her hand and touched his arm. “I’m very glad you didn’t stick to the original plan, Theo.” She swiped under her eyes and he wanted to move even closer to her, to hold her in his arms and tell her, Me, too, but she’d lifted her chin and seemed to be thinking and assessing and he didn’t want to make emotional decisions for her. He stayed where he was.
“So you didn’t love what’s-his-name?” he asked.
“Not like—” She stopped and leaned her head back. “I was marrying him for the kids. To set up a secure life for them. I needed a life partner and he seemed a good safe bet.”
“I can understand that.” The thought had bile churning in his gut, but he did understand. Another man almost stepped into his life, would be raising his children, loving his wife. Living the life he’d almost thrown away. His gaze went to her ring finger and he realized that other ring she’d had on was now gone. Good.
“And the FBI agent and the marshal didn’t mention your wife had quadruplets while you were away?” she asked.
“I doubt either knew. They kept watch on you for a solid month after my ‘death,’ and when it was clear that you, your sisters and my father weren’t in danger, that everyone truly believed I was dead, that was that. I guess you weren’t showing at that point or hadn’t told anyone you were pregnant.”
“I did keep it under wraps until I popped,” she said. “My sisters knew, but I didn’t tell anyone else until I was four months along.”
“I admit I didn’t ask for information about you because I didn’t want to know, couldn’t handle knowing.” He’d thought about her day and night as he’d made his way south to the middle of nowhere on that cattle ranch he’d heard was looking for hands. But knowing anything about her life would have leveled him. “We should toast to Elliot Talley,” he said. “For getting cold feet. Or you’d be a bigamist and we’d have a problem on our hands.”
She gave a rueful smile. “Right?” She scrubbed at her face. “I’m so tired. Have I ever been this tired? Even right after the quads were born?”
“It’s been one hell of a day,” he said. “Why don’t you go up to bed? I can sack out here.”
What he’d give to lie beside Allie. The thought of it, of his wife next to him in bed, had gotten him through many nights in the bunkhouse on that ranch.
She shook her head. “You’re my husband. I’m your wife. If we’re going to make a go of this, let’s not put more distance between us. There’s no need for separate bedrooms.”
Hope shot through him. “I feel the same way.”
She glanced at him. “I’m not talking about sex,” she added. “That I’m not ready for. Not until we rebuild some intimacy. We were sorely lacking in that department two years ago.”
He nodded. “Understood.” He wanted her, desperately. But even the thought of touching her, feeling her, making love to her, made his knees weak. He needed to get some control of himself anyway. They could both use the space—together.
She stood up and so did he. Tonight, for the first time in almost two years, he would lie beside his wife, the fantasy that had kept him going all those lonely, awful months becoming reality.
Chapter Five
Allie lay very still, barely able to breathe. Beside her, in the space that had been empty for the past two years, was The
o Stark. He wore a T-shirt and a pair of blue sweats. She was in her usual bedtime attire of T-shirt and yoga pants. She had a dresser drawer full of sexy lingerie that hopefully one day she’d open again.
They were both on their backs, staring up at the ceiling.
Awk-ward.
She turned on her side, facing him, propped up on her elbow, which prompted him to do the same.
“I’m glad you came back,” she said. “I just wanted to make sure I actually said that, that it didn’t get forgotten in everything else that needed to be said.”
He smiled and seemed to be looking at every bit of her face, taking her in, studying her. It was so strange how you could feel someone’s love and be so unsure at the same time.
She wanted to reach out and touch the hair against his neck. He’d let it grow out shaggy and it was so sexy she was having trouble keeping her hands to herself. Usually his hair was regulation-short out of habit, first the military, then the police department. And he’d always been muscular, but two years of ranch work had his arms ripped like she’d never seen.
“I can’t tell you how good this bed feels,” he said, his green eyes on hers. “My bed at the bunkhouse was basically a cot on springs. The pits.”
“Did you have friends, at least? The men you worked with?”
“I kept to myself mostly, but bonds were built at the ranch. You’re there for one another even if you don’t know someone’s last name or where they came from. A lot of the guys liked to talk about their pasts, what drove them away. I kept my mouth shut, of course.”
“And...” She bit her lip, unable to ask. She didn’t want to know.
“And what?” he asked, holding her gaze.
“Women,” she finally said.
“Only you in my fantasies, Allie, and I’ll swear on that.”
Tears stung her eyes. That was becoming a bad habit.
“Hey,” he said, stroking her hair. “Everything’s a lot to take in. It’ll get better.”
She managed to nod. If she spoke, she’d squeak. “I want you to know that Elliot and I, we never, I mean, we...”
Wyoming Christmas Surprise Page 5