by Gina Wilkins
She looked around the room and waved a hand vaguely toward the equipment. “Very impressive. I thought I spotted a few new muscles.”
“They aren’t new. I’ve always had them. They’re just somewhat better developed than they were before.”
“Well, at least you’re cracking jokes again. Sort of.” She crossed the room, tested a bar that was fastened to several very heavy weights. “Sometimes I wonder if a stranger has taken over the body of the man I used to know.”
He rubbed his right thigh, the gesture seemingly unconscious. “Trust me,” he muttered. “No stranger would want this body.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, braced herself and turned to face him. “Are you ready to talk now?”
“What would you like to talk about?” he asked, deliberately obtuse.
It was enough to make her want to pull her hair. Or his. “Damn it, Tom, you’ve been keeping something from me since I arrived. Did you really think I wouldn’t know?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t think you particularly cared. You accomplished what you came here for. We’re married.”
He couldn’t have hurt her more if he’d slapped her. She took an involuntary step backward, as if recoiling from the impact.
“You make it sound as if I gave you no choice,” she protested. “As if I tricked you into it or something. That isn’t fair. I told you everything from the beginning. You agreed to help me, and you said this was the best way. I gave you every chance to change your mind.”
He exhaled deeply. “I know. I’m sorry, that was out of line.”
“If you’ve had second thoughts...if you want out...” She lifted her chin. “I certainly won’t try to hold you. We can get an annulment immediately. I’m sure your friend the judge can arrange that as easily as he arranged the wedding.”
“I don’t want an annulment. I’m sorry, all right? I didn’t mean what I said.”
Had she not caught a glimpse of his eyes then, she might well have left the room. But the pain and unhappiness she saw in him drew her toward him. Cautiously, she approached him. She perched on the edge of the bench, facing him, her hands clasped tightly in the lap of her prim winter-white suit.
“The day I left here,” she began, choosing her words with care, “we said some cutting things to each other. Later, I decided it was because we were both sad that our relationship was coming to an end, and we sort of took that sadness out on each other.”
“You made it look so easy to leave,” he murmured, his jaw taut.
“You called me cold. Driven. Career obsessed.”
He grimaced, and kneaded his thigh again. “You said I was irresponsible. Reckless. Arrogant.”
“Maybe—maybe there was truth in what we said. To an extent. But, Tom...it wasn’t easy to leave.”
He lifted a hand, touched her hair. “It wasn’t easy to let you go.”
Her fingers twisted together. Her wedding band felt heavy, unfamiliar. “You’re still angry with me for leaving.”
It wasn’t a question, but he shook his head. “No.” And then he corrected himself. “Well, maybe. A little.”
“And that’s why you’ve been acting so distant?”
He shook his head. “No. I—well, I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“Tell me what?” she asked, thoroughly confused. “What happened to you? Why have you changed jobs? What has gone wrong between you and Zach?”
He grimaced. “It’s a long story.”
She kept her gaze on his face. “I’ve got nothing but time.”
He drew a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Four months after you left, Zach and I were in an accident. His shoulder was dislocated. My back was broken and my right leg was crushed.”
Leslie felt the stiffening go out of her knees, and she was glad that she’d sat down: “My God,” she breathed. “What happened?”
“We were riding an ATV. Zach was driving. I was on the back. We collided with another rider who’d spun out of control. My right leg was crushed between the vehicles, and then I was thrown onto a pile of boulders. I landed flat on my back.” His voice was emotionless as he recited the facts. “I was brought to Washington Regional Hospital by ambulance, then airlifted to Little Rock for emergency surgery. I’ve got three rods, five screws and a bone fusion in my back. My leg’s held together with rods and pins. I have some paralysis in my foot. It’s irreversible.”
She thought of his career as a firefighter. His volunteer search-and-rescue work. His joy in climbing and rafting and biking and other physical activities. “Tom, I’m so sorry.”
His mouth twisted. “You called me ‘Goose,’ remember? Zach and Tom—Maverick and Goose, just like the two pilots in the movie Top Gun. You thought you were being funny. Best buddies. Partners. Just like the guys in the movie. But there was a plot twist you might have forgotten when you gave me my nickname. Goose died.”
“And Maverick went on with his career,” she whispered.
“Yeah. Maverick went on.”
“That’s what wrong between you and Zach? You blame him for the accident?”
“No.” The word exploded from him. He shook his head. “No,” he repeated more quietly. “It wasn’t Zach’s fault. If anyone’s, it was the other driver’s. But it was really just a senseless accident.”
“Then why—”
“Zach feels sorry for me.” Tom grimaced as he said the words, his voice coated with distaste. “I see it in his eyes every time he looks at me. And I hate it.”
“Oh, Tom, no.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t say I hate Zach. I just hate the pity. It’s not just Zach. It’s everyone. Ever since the accident, they treat me like Saint Tom. Poor Tom. They want to know if I’m okay. If I need anything. If there’s anything they can do for me. I’m not...one of them anymore.”
“Could it be that you’re imagining some of this?”
He pushed a hand through his hair. “I wish I were.”
“Well, that’s nonsense,” she said, forcing herself to speak brusquely. “There’s absolutely no reason in the world for anyone to feel sorry for you. You’re still ridiculously handsome. You’ve got a limp, but you’re in generally good health, from what I can see. Unless there’s something you haven’t told me?” She asked lightly, but with a knot of fear in her chest that eased only when he shook his head.
“Well, then,” she continued. “You have a home. A career. A mother who pampers you shamelessly.”
“A beautiful wife,” he added, his mouth tilting into a slight smile.
Her pulse fluttered. She steadied it with an effort. “My point is, it’s absurd for anyone to feel sorry for you.”
He seemed to relax somewhat. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell everyone.”
She wondered if maybe Tom had been feeling a bit sorry for himself. Not that she would have blamed him if he had. She had a feeling that he’d only begun to tell her all he’d lost in that accident. But he wouldn’t thank her for bringing it up now.
She touched his arm. “Just keep telling them until they believe you.” And until you believe it yourself, she wanted to add.
He looked at her hand, then at her face. The glint in his eyes was still only a pale imitation of the Tom she’d known before... but a definite improvement.
“Ridiculously handsome, hmm?”
She smiled wryly. “I should have known that’s the only thing you would hear.”
“I heard every word you said,” he corrected. “That’s the part I liked best.”
Leslie couldn’t help laughing.
Tom reached out and stroked a finger along her jaw. “I’ve missed that sound,” he murmured.
Nothing could have stopped her pulse from rocketing out of control that time. She couldn’t think of a thing to say in response.
He was still wearing that faint, sexy smile when he bent his head toward her. When he brushed his lips over hers.
His smile vanished when she responded. His arms went around her, pu
lling her closer to him on the narrow, vinyl-covered bench. His mouth opened hungrily over hers. She closed her eyes and kissed him back, surrendering herself to the moment.
His chest felt broader than she remembered. His arms stronger. But the way he kissed her; the way his tongue teased her lips, then thrust between to sweep her mouth; the way his hand cupped the back of her head to hold her against him—all of that was achingly familiar. She’d relived Tom’s kisses during too many long, lonely nights in Chicago to have forgotten any detail.
He tilted her back over his arm and deepened the embrace even further. She clung to him, her mind spinning, her body growing warm, malleable. A muffled moan came from deep within his chest, sounding like a mixture of pleasure and pain. She understood that feeling all too well.
His fingers were inches from her breast, when the telephone rang in the other room.
“Ignore it,” Tom muttered against her lips when Leslie instinctively stiffened.
“But—”
The telephone rang again. At the same time, they both heard Kenny cry out.
Tom growled a curse. Reluctantly, he released her. “I’ll get the phone.”
“I’ll get the baby.” Her voice was decidedly shaky.
Still muttering, he shoved himself to his feet and limped to the doorway. Leslie watched him, her throat tightening. Now she understood what that limp represented—and it broke her heart.
He glanced over his shoulder, saw her expression and frowned. “Don’t do that,” he warned. “I won’t have it from you.”
“No,” she agreed. “You’ll get no sympathy from me.”
He nodded curtly. “Good.”
And then he disappeared down the hallway.
Kenny cried again, and Leslie rose unsteadily to her feel It had been, she thought dazedly, quite a day.
Chapter Seven
Carrying the baby against her shoulder, Leslie entered the living room just as Tom hung up the phone. Still somewhat nonplussed from the call he’d just taken, Tom cleared his throat. “That was Pendleton.”
Leslie’s eyes widened. “Steve? What did he want?”
“He wanted to congratulate us on our marriage.”
She looked immediately skeptical. “How did he find out that we—damn it, he’s still having me watched, isn’t he? I’m going to—”
“Leslie.” Tom held up his hands to interrupt her, though the quick temper that flared in her eyes reminded him inevitably of the passion that had flared in his exercise room. “He isn’t having you watched. My mother told him. Apparently, they ran into each other at a service station.”
Nervously patting Kenny’s back, Leslie moistened her lips. “What did he say? More threats?”
Tom shook his head. “He’s dropping the custody suit.”
Leslie’s reaction was much as Tom’s had been when Pendleton had quietly told him the decision. “He’s what?” she asked in disbelief.
“He’s dropping it,” Tom repeated, beginning to smile. “He said he isn’t sure he can win in court now, and he doesn’t want to waste time pursuing a lost cause.”
Smiling broadly, Leslie hugged the baby. “Did you hear that, Kenny? We can stop worrying now. No one is going to take you away from me.”
Kenny babbled in response, the noises he made sounding like a cross between chirps and squeals.
Tom chuckled. “I guess that means he’s pleased.”
“Of course it does.” Leslie’s eyes were bright with unshed tears. “Oh, Tom, thank you.”
“What are you thanking me for?”
“For everything. If it hadn’t been for you, I might have lost Kenny. It’s partly because of you that Steve dropped the suit—I’m sure of it. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for what you’ve done for us.”
He shook his head, scowling now. He hadn’t wanted her pity earlier; he didn’t want her gratitude now.
“Now,” she said, still giddy with relief, “I can adopt Kenny. I can make a real home for him. I can—”
“It occurs to me,” Tom interrupted deliberately, “that you’re leaving someone out of this equation.”
Still smiling at the baby, she asked almost absently, “Who?”
“Your husband.”
That brought her head around. “I, um—”
“I haven’t told you everything Pendleton said.”
“What do you mean?”
Tom shoved his hands in the pockets of his suit slacks, the satisfaction he’d felt only moments earlier fading fast. “He warned us that he’s not going to just quietly disappear. He feels an obligation to make sure his nephew will be well cared for. He said that for the next few months, he wants to visit Kenny regularly and make absolutely sure we’re giving him a good home. He said if he sees any evidence that Kenny isn’t being given the best of care, he’ll go ahead and file the custody suit.”
“He’s going to monitor our marriage.” Leslie spoke slowly as the meaning of Steve’s message sank in.
Tom nodded. “I suppose that’s the gist of it. You know the law better than I do, but I’m assuming he can sue for custody any time until an adoption is finalized.”
“He can sue for custody any time he wants. Whether he would win... well, the only question would be if he could prove that Kenny’s health or welfare was in jeopardy. Since Crystal is dead and the biological father unknown, it’s hard to guess whether a judge would give any consideration to Steve’s blood connection to Kenny. Last week, my position might have been vulnerable. That has changed now.”
“Because we were married today.”
She nodded with apparent reluctance. “Partly, of course.”
“Were you planning to just forget the marriage if Pendleton had folded his tents and gone completely away?”
“I—” She began to rock her upper body, the motion automatic, her hand rhythmically patting Kenny’s back.
In her celebration of her apparent victory, she hadn’t even thought of their marriage, Tom realized heavily.
Leslie swallowed. “We both know that the marriage took place only because of Steve’s threats.”
“And it took place today because he said he was going to file suit tomorrow.”
“Yes.” Leslie gently fended off Kenny’s hand as he patted her face, fingers aiming for her mouth.
Tom kept his gaze locked with Leslie’s. “You went into it planning to end it as soon as you’d won your case, didn’t you?”
“To be honest, I haven’t thought beyond the case.”
He nodded. He didn’t know what he wanted her to say, exactly. As she’d pointed out, they both knew why they’d married. And for now, the motive still applied. “I suppose as long as Pendleton’s monitoring us, we’ll have to present the appearance of an average married couple.”
“I suppose so.”
He massaged the back of his neck. “And it will probably be best if we don’t tell anyone else the real reason for the hasty wedding. It’s enough that you and Mom and I know the truth. Everyone else can simply believe that this was something we planned in private.”
Leslie frowned. “Even Zach?”
Tom shrugged, bothered again by the guilt that had flashed through him in the restaurant earlier, when Zach had looked at him with hurt in his eyes. But something in him rebelled against telling Zach that Leslie had married him only because she’d felt she had no other choice. “For now, I think it’s best that we keep our reasons to ourselves.”
Looking troubled, Leslie chewed her lower lip and rocked the baby.
Tom felt himself going on the defensive. “What’s the problem?”
“I guess I didn’t think of how many lies we’d have to tell. How much deception would be involved.”
“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you run a scam. Takes a lot of work to keep the ruse going.”
It was obvious that she didn’t care for his choice of words. “We’re not—mmph.” Kenny’s playful hand had landed squarely in her mouth, muffling her words.
&nb
sp; Tom smiled a little. “Looks like he wants to play.”
Kenny crowed, as if in agreement.
On an impulse, Tom reached out and plucked the baby from Leslie’s arms. “You’ve been wearing that suit all day,” he said to Leslie, shifting Kenny comfortably into the curve of his arm. “I’ll watch the kid while you change.”
Leslie was tempted. “I am ready to get out of these heels,” she admitted with a slight smile.
“Take your time. Kenny and I will do some male bonding. I’ll show him pictures of power tools and teach him the Tim Allen grunt.”
He was gratified when his weak joke drew a small laugh from her. “Well, as long as you’re contributing to his education...”
Tom watched her walk out of the room. The white skirt clung sleekly to her hips and emphasized her long, shapely legs. He’d always thought Leslie had a real talent for making a tailored business suit look incredibly sexy. He didn’t try to delude himself that she would reappear in something short and slinky suited to a typical wedding night. Not that it would matter. Regardless of how many layers of clothing she wrapped around her, Tom would still want her.
He had never stopped.
Her wedding night. Sometime around three in the morning, Leslie lay alone on the bed in the guest room. Kenny slept soundly in the portable crib set up in one corner of the room, occasionally sucking on his pacifier.
It certainly wasn’t like any wedding night Leslie would have envisioned, had she ever imagined herself getting married.
After the way Tom had kissed her in his exercise room, she might have expected at least a good-night kiss before they’d turned in. Or more—they had, after all, been lovers at one time. And that part had been very good between them.
Tom had played with the baby for a while and then handed him over to Leslie when it was time for a bottle. He had then changed into a T-shirt and sweatpants, disappeared into the exercise room and, judging from the noises she’d heard from there, proceeded to use every piece of equipment he kept in there. It had been almost an hour before he’d reappeared, sweating and tired looking, his limp pronounced. She’d already put Kenny to bed by then.