by Ginna Gray
Ryan shook his head and gave Tess a dry look. "Joe Bob didn't stand a chance. And neither do you. You might as well give in." Without waiting for a reply or the outcome of the discussion, he disappeared down the hall.
"Mrs. McCall, I appreciate your offer, but I really can't impose on you this way."
"Nonsense. It isn't an imposition at all. We'd love to have you. And, please, call me Maggie."
"But, Mrs... uh... Maggie, I can't—"
"Now, child, there is absolutely no reason for you to pay money to stay in this depressing place all alone, when you can come home with us and be taken care of properly."
"But-"
Maggie turned from the closet with one of Tess's nightgowns in her hand. "Don't tell me that you'd rather stay here?" she asked with a touch of hurt in her voice.
"Oh, no! It's not tha-"
"Good. Because you'll certainly be more comfortable in my guest room. The food's better, too."
"But-"
"Good heavens, child, why are you arguing? You came up here in the first place to stay with us."
"But... that was before I had Molly. A new baby is a lot of work and trouble. I can't ask you to take that on."
"Oh pooh. If that's all that's worrying you, just put it right out of your mind. Why, heavens. Don't you realize that Molly is half the reason I want you to stay with us? To tell you the truth, I can't wait to get my hands on her. It's been too many years since there was a baby in our house."
Tess opened her mouth, then shut it again. With a defeated sigh, she sank back against the pillows and watched the older woman bustle around the room. Ryan was right; she hadn't stood a chance.
❧
A half hour later, Ryan turned the Cherokee into the driveway of his parents' home on the outskirts of Crockett. Sitting far off the country lane, nestled in a stand of huge oak and pecan trees, the rambling Victorian house reminded Tess of an elegant old dowager.
Through the tinted, rain-splattered windows, she got a blurry view of wraparound porches trimmed with gingerbread and bordered by nandina and rosebushes. There were brick walkways and colorful flower beds of petunias and begonias, battered and drooping now under the heavy downpour. In the yard she caught a ghmpse of a white latticework gazebo, an old-fashioned two-seater glider swing and an overflowing birdbath.
Ryan brought the vehicle to a halt under the porte co-chere at the side entrance. Over his objections, Tess climbed out unassisted and followed his mother, who was carrying Molly, into the house.
Matching her slow pace, Ryan walked beside Tess in silence, his face set in its usual remote mask. Since leaving the hospital, he had barely spoken to her. She knew he was probably thinking about that kiss they had shared. How could he not be? The memory of that sizzling exchange had been hovering in the back of her mind ever since it occurred, tormenting her, raising questions.
Had that kiss changed things? Ruined their fledgling friendship? And most disturbing of all; what would have happened if his family hadn't arrived when they did?
She glanced at Ryan out of the comer of her eye. Was he angry? Did he blame her for what happened? From his expression it was impossible to tell, but she had a feehng that he was not pleased that his mother had insisted she stay at their home.
They reached the foyer, but when Tess started to follow Maggie upstairs, Ryan bit out a curse.
This time he didn't ask; he simply swooped her up in his arms and started up the steps.
"Ryan!" she shrieked, and flung her arms around his neck, clutching him frantically. "What are you doing? I can walk."
"Not up stairs, you won't."
"But-"
"Save your breath. I'm not putting you down."
The side door banged, and a few seconds later, Mike skidded to a halt in the entrance. Holding Tess's suitcase with both hands, he gaped. "What are you doing with Tess, Dad?"
His uncle and grandfather walked into the foyer in time to catch the question. Reilly grinned up at them, his eyes dancing wickedly, but he put his hand on Mike's shoulder. "Now what do you think he's doing, sport? He's giving her a lift upstairs. Tess just had a baby. Remember?"
"Do you feel bad, Tess?" the boy asked anxiously.
"No. No, of course not. Your father is just being overly cautious. That's all."
Ignoring the exchange, Ryan continued up the stairs without pause.
"You mean he's showing good sense," Reilly called after them.
Tess strove to look unaffected and tried to pretend that her nerves were not fluttering. She couldn't remember ever being so aware of a man.
Ryan's body felt like warm steel. She had always known that he was strong, but being held snugly against that broad chest brought home to her just how much raw power he possessed. He carried her with ridiculous ease. He wasn't even breathing hard, for heaven's sake.
Tess stared at the swirls in his ear, the stubby ends of the trimmed hair that brushed the top. This close, she could see the pores in his skin and each individual eyelash—even the faint brush marks in his hair. His clean male scent surrounded her and made her sightly light-headed—or perhaps it was just the result of being swept off her feet.
When they reached the top of the stairs, she glanced at him and said politely, "You can put me down now."
He gave her a sardonic look and kept walking. "What's the point? We're almost there."
He carried her to a room at the end of the hall. Maggie turned from folding back the covers on the bed and smiled when she saw them.
"Just put her down right there, son," she said unnecessarily, as Ryan strode across the room and lowered Tess onto the mattress.
The four-poster bed, with its lacy crocheted canopy and | patchwork bedspread in shades of lavender, cream and sil- very green, dominated the high-ceilinged room. Braided j rugs in the same colors lay scattered across the glossy heart- j of-pine floors, and tiny violets dotted the cream wallpaper in a random pattern. Ivy trailed from a hanging copper pot beside the window, where gauzy Priscilla curtains framed the rain-washed panes.
"I think you'll be comfortable here." Maggie shifted the baby to her other arm and reached around Tess to help her slip out of her robe.
"It's charming." The room smelled of lemon furniture polish and the floral potpourri in the china bowl on the dresser. "I can't imagine not being comfortable here. Thank you, Maggie, for having us."
Tess glanced around, and her gaze met Ryan's. He stood just a few feet away, watching her in that unnerving, intent way of his. "Are you all right?" he asked.
"Yes. I'm fine." Self-conscious, she eased her legs onto the bed and pulled the covers up over her breasts.
Ryan hesitated, as though he wanted to say more. Then his jaws clenched and he dipped his chin in an abrupt nod. "Good. Then I'll leave you in Mom's hands. I'll send Mike up with your things."
Tess watched him stride out the door and wondered why she felt so desolate... so... abandoned.
Lord, what was happening to him? Halting in the hallway outside the guest bedroom, Ryan leaned his back against the wall and closed his eyes.
What was it about Tess that made him feel so damned protective? So...possessive? Just because he'd delivered her baby, that didn't mean that she was his, or that Molly was his child.
But, heaven help him, that was exactly how he felt. Anxious and proud and happy and scared all at once.
He didn't want to let Tess out of his sight. He'd had to make himself leave her room. That scared the living hell out of him.
And there was that kiss. What had he been thinking of? Ryan dragged his hand down over his face and exhaled wearily. That was the trouble; he hadn't been thinking at all. He had let himself get caught up in the emotion of the moment and responded to her softness, her sweetness.
The storm of feelings the simple kiss had set off had taken him by surprise. Recalling the startled look in those wide, whiskey-colored eyes, he knew it had surprised Tess as well.
He had to nip this thing in the bud. Now, before it
got out of hand.
Eyes closed, Ryan leaned his head back against the wall and grimaced. But dammit! He liked Tess. He liked being with her. For the first time in eight years he was enjoying a woman on more than just a physical level. He didn't want to give that up.
He opened his eyes and looked around at the familiar old house. Maybe that was it. Maybe it was just the forced intimacy of being there together under his parents' roof. Once they were back in Houston, in their own apartments, living separate lives, things would be back in perspective and their relationship would return to what it had been before this trip.
In the meantime, he would back off a step or two.
Chapter 8
By Sunday, Hurricane Homer was merely a memory. The sun blazed down from a cloudless sky and the smells of barbecuing chicken and fresh mown grass hung in the air.
Tess sat alone on the veranda. The porch swing creaked as it swayed back and forth. Absently, she nudged the floor with her toe to keep the lazy motion going and sighed, her wistful gaze on the action in the yard.
Wearing a chef's hat and an apron emblazoned with the words, Insult the Cook at Your Own Risk, Colin manned the barbecue grill. The rest of the clan were playing soft-ball.
At the pitcher's position, Ryan's cousin rubbed the ball in his mitt and flexed his broad shoulders, getting ready for the windup. David and his wife, Abby, had been visiting his parents for the past week. They had intended to leave on Friday, but when they learned that Reilly and Ryan had arrived, they stayed for the weekend.
David reared back and fired a pitch over the plate.
"Strike!" Dorothy called.
Reilly lowered the bat and shot his aunt a dark glare. "In a pig's eye."
She held her ground, unperturbed by his opinion of her call.
On the next pitch the bat cracked against the ball. Shouts erupted and Reilly took off for first. At second base, Ryan made a leap for the ball, but it sailed over his head just out of reach. Exhibiting surprising agility, Maggie raced up from the outfield, caught the ball on its second bounce and tossed it to Ryan. Reilly changed his mind about stretching the hit into a double and pulled up at first, calling a taunt to his twin.
Tess laughed at his exuberance, but the sound had barely died when, against her will, her gaze drifted back to Ryan.
For the past two days she had seen little of him. She told herself that he was busy with his family, that he was giving her time to recuperate, but deep down she didn't really believe any of it. Ever since that kiss, things had changed between them. She had the uneasy feeling that he was avoiding her.
He looked terrific. A lock of ebony hair hung across his forehead and his bronze skin glowed with a sheen of perspiration. Wearing a pair of cutoffs and a loose muscle shirt that showed off his broad chest and impressive shoulders, he stood with his legs spread wide, the epitome of a healthy, virile male.
"Hey, look who's awake."
Startled, Tess glanced over her shoulder. "Rebecca. I didn't see you there. Why aren't you playing?"
"I am. But I'm last in the batting order so I came in to get a drink. While I was in the kitchen I heard this little sweetie pie fussing." Ryan's sister-in-law pushed open the screen door and stepped out onto the porch, carrying Molly cradled in one arm and a glass of iced tea in her other hand. "I tried to quiet her but she wasn't having any of it. I think she wants her mommy. She was soaked through, so I changed her diaper and her gown."
"You didn't have to do that. You should have called me."
"I didn't mind. Actually, I enjoyed it."
Rebecca's response was typical. Ryan's family fussed over Tess and pampered her as though she were visiting royalty. For the past two days she had not been allowed to lift a finger except to eat the delicious meals and snacks that Maggie prepared, or to feed Molly. Her daughter had merely to let out a peep and someone was there to change her diaper or rock her or whisk her away to be cooed over and cuddled.
Molly quieted the instant she felt her mother's arms enfold her. Tess held the baby close for a minute, inhaling her sweet scent, then she laid her in her lap. She fingered the lace trim on the gown Rebecca had chosen and smiled, touched anew by the warmth and generosity of these people.
Molly's early arrival had caught Tess totally unprepared. The nursery in her Houston apartment was stocked with every conceivable item needed to care for a newborn, but all she'd had with her was one tiny infant's gown that she had packed for the baby to wear home from the hospital. The problem had seemed gigantic to Tess, but she hadn't counted on Maggie.
In no time at all a crib and dressing table had been brought down from the attic and set up in the guest room, Ryan had been dispatched to the local pharmacy with a list of supplies, and Maggie had started calling friends. By noon that first day, four women had stopped by to drop off boxes of baby clothes.
A burst of shouts and whistles drew their eyes back to the game.
Wearing a pair of skimpy shorts and a halter top, Abby stood over the garbage can lid that served as home plate, her gorgeous long legs spread wide in a batter's stance.
"Strike!" Dorothy called when David burned one past her.
"Strike!" Abby whirled on her mother-in-law. "What do you mean, strike? The ball was a mile wide. It's not fair. You're partial because he's your son."
Dorothy shrugged, unfazed. "So sue me."
Eyes narrowed, Abby thrust out her chin. "All right. If that's the way you wanna play..."
She started to take up her stance again, then fluttered her eyelashes innocently. "Wait. Why, I do believe my laces are loose." Taking her time about it, she turned her back on her husband and bent from the waist to retie her shoe.
"Uh-oh, cuz. You're in trouble now," Travis taunted from the sidelines.
David stood stock still, staring at the shapely bottom stuck up in the air, while from all around him came catcalls and whistles.
Straightening, Abby blew David a kiss.
Tess chuckled and shook her head, but the sound came out wistful and a bit lonely.
"I know the feeling. They're really something, aren't they?"
Looking up, Tess saw that Rebecca was gazing at her inlaws, her lovely face soft with love.
"Yes. Yes they are. I don't think I've ever known such a close-knit clan. I hate to admit it, but I'm envious. I had a very happy childhood, but being around this family makes me realize how much I missed, being an only child."
"Mmm. I know what you mean. I spent most of my life wishing I could be one of them. And now I am," Rebecca said softly. "At times I can still hardly believe it." She took a sip of tea, her adoring gaze drifting to where her husband stood on the sidelines, jeering at David and encouraging Abby's antics.
Tess followed her gaze. This McCall brother had come as something of a surprise. She had expected him to be a younger version of Ryan and Reilly, but Travis had taken after their father in every way. Not only had he been blessed with Colin's disposition and personality, he had the same blond hair and sexy, silvery gray eyes. Though totally opposite in looks and coloring, he was every bit as handsome as his older brothers.
He also seemed to be the wildest, the most unconventional. Which was why it had come as a surprise to learn that he was the only one of the McCall or Blaine offspring who had settled down in Crockett. The previous year he had quit his job with the FBI and joined his father and uncle in their law firm. He and Rebecca lived just a ten-minute walk from his parents' home.
"Oh, my goodness, would you look at that," Rebecca hooted. " Watching her now, no one would ever guess that when David met Abby a little over a year ago she was a shy httle thing."
The count was three and oh, but Abby was still doing everything she could to rattle her husband. She preened and posed provocatively. She adjusted her halter top. Fanning herself, she lifted her hair off her neck and arched her back.
"Way to go, Abby!"
"Oh, yeah, baby. Work it. Work it."
Her teammates kept up an encouraging chatter. Their
opponents groaned and yelled "foul" and "unfair tactics."
"Don't let her get to you, son," Joe Blaine called from the outfield.
When Abby finally assumed the batting stance again, she blew her husband another kiss, braced the bat over her right shoulder... and wiggled her bottom.
In a daze, David released a pitch.
"Ball four!"
Abby's teammates cheered. David's groaned.
"All right, you shameless hussy—take your base," Dorothy ordered, laughing.
Making a show of it, Abby dropped the bat, dusted off her hands, and sauntered to first base.
The two women on the porch laughed along with everyone else.
"Oh, I love it," Rebecca crowed. "She is going to lead David a merry chase until they plant him in the ground."
Ryan's sister was up next. Tess's own hair was carroty but Meghan's was a pure bright red. The curly mane sticking out of the back of her baseball cap glittered like fire in the sunshine.
On the second pitch Meghan caught a piece of David's curve ball and popped a high one. Ryan backpeddled a few steps, snagged the ball out of the air and rifled it to Mike, who was playing catcher.
Reilly tagged third at a dead run and kept going.
"Slide! Slide!" his teammates yelled as he pounded for home.
The ball drilled Mike's glove, and Reilly's muscles bunched. He came in low under his nephew's reaching arm and they both went down in a tangle of arms and legs.
"Safe!" Dorothy yelled.
A brouhaha erupted instantly.
Every member of the family came running to the plate, shouting and gesturing. Reilly bounded to his feet and stood nose to nose with David. Meghan whipped off her baseball cap and swatted Ryan with it. He responded by snatching it out of her hand and returning the favor. Even Maggie and Dorothy were shaking their fists and yelling at one another.