Hunger radiated from him, the hunger to know…the hunger to love his son. The intensity that shone from his eyes frightened Meghan. “It’s late,” she protested. “Can’t we talk about Kirk tomorrow?”
He reached out and placed a hand on her arm. Her body instantly reacted as if he’d stroked her breast or kissed the back of her neck. Heat sizzled through her, tightening the tips of her breasts and creating a ball of tension in the pit of her stomach.
“Please, Meghan. Give me just a little bit. Besides,” he smiled, but the gesture didn’t quite alleviate the darkness of his eyes, “you can’t go to bed yet. You still have three marshmallows left.” He removed his hand from her arm.
“It was a difficult pregnancy,” she said, feeling as if she were exposing pieces of herself to a stranger. She set her hot chocolate on the coffee table. “I had morning sickness for almost the entire nine months and for the last three of those months I don’t think Kirk stopped moving for a moment.”
“Did you crave pickles and ice cream?”
She smiled. “No. Pepperoni pizza. I ate so many it’s amazing Kirk doesn’t speak with an Italian accent.”
Seth laughed, the darkness in his eyes ebbing. “And what about the birth?” he asked.
“Fast…as if he couldn’t wait to begin his life separate from me.” She smiled, remembering the early dawn that Kirk had made his appearance. “He was born squalling at the top of his lungs. No newborn mewling from our son.”
Our son. The words hung in the air as if suspended by sheer emotion. Meghan instantly wanted to recall them. She didn’t want to give Seth any kind of ownership over Kirk.
“It’s late. I’ve got to get some sleep.” She stood and reached for her cup.
“Leave it. I’ll get it,” he said and also rose. “Meghan.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, suddenly looking achingly vulnerable. “Thanks.”
She nodded, turned and raced for the privacy of her room. She could handle Seth when he was teasing, or impatient. She could deal with his anger or his laughter, but she had no defenses against his unfamiliar vulnerability.
For the first time since Kirk’s birth, Meghan wondered if perhaps she’d made a mistake in demanding that Seth stay out of Kirk’s life.
Chapter 5
“Seth, Kirk is only fourteen months old. He won’t know the difference,” Meghan protested.
“How do you know that?” Seth got up from the kitchen table and poured himself another cup of coffee.
It was a few minutes after ten in the morning. Kirk had slept unusually late, apparently fooled by the gray, overcast weather that prevented any morning sun from appearing in his window.
They’d just finished eating breakfast and were lingering over coffee when Seth had started the insane discussion.
Meghan fought her irritation, unsure if it was the topic of conversation that irritated her or Seth’s appearance.
His hair was still damp from the shower she’d heard him taking before she’d gotten out of bed. Barefoot, and wearing only a pair of worn jeans that rode low on his slim hips, he looked utterly at ease and overwhelmingly masculine.
He rejoined her at the table, his expression sober. “Seriously, how do you know this won’t have some sort of long-term psychological effect on him?”
She tugged her glasses off, hoping his bare, broad chest would turn into a simple fuzzy blur. “Seth, we’re talking about a Christmas tree here…not hardly the stuff psychoses are made of.”
Seth leaned forward, bringing with him the scent of clean, freshly showered male. Meghan wanted to scream at him to put on a shirt, stop looking so good, quit smelling so wonderful.
“I can see it now,” he said, his green eyes primal forests with depths to plunder. “Fifteen years from now he’ll be on the Montel Williams show, talking about how messed up he is because his mother and father didn’t get a Christmas tree for him when he was fourteen months old.”
Meghan threw her hands up in surrender. “All right, you win. I’ll buy a tree today,” she said in defeat. She got up from the table, needing some distance from him.
She rinsed her coffee cup and placed it in the dishwasher, then took a minute to wipe down the countertop.
Ever since last night when he’d reminded her of those decadent full-body massages he used to give her, she’d felt off center.
She’d tossed and turned in bed, remembering the feel of his hands on her, the hot trail of his lips lingering across her naked flesh. Then she’d thought of the way he’d looked, so proud, so awed, yet so vulnerable, when she’d told him about her pregnancy and Kirk’s birth, and her head had spun with confusion.
And then she’d remembered all the reasons she’d asked Seth to stay out of Kirk’s life in the first place. Good reasons. Valid reasons.
Despite the softness on Seth’s features when she’d talked about Kirk’s birth, nothing had changed. She refused to give her son the kind of childhood she’d had. It was best for Kirk if Seth stayed out of their lives permanently.
“Do you intend to wipe the tile clean off?” he asked.
She flushed and threw the sponge in the sink. “I’m going to get dressed and go get a tree.” She walked over to Kirk’s high chair, unbuckled him and picked him up.
“Why don’t you leave him here? I can watch him while you get a tree,” Seth suggested.
“No.” She tightened her grip on her son and Kirk grunted in protest. “No, I’ll take him with me. I have some other errands to run as well and he’s used to going where I go.”
Seth’s jaw muscles tensed, but he merely nodded. Meghan breathed a sigh of relief, grabbed her glasses from the table and quickly escaped to the privacy of her bedroom. At least here, she didn’t have to look at his gorgeous bare chest, nor could she smell the scent that was so achingly familiar.
As she dressed, Kirk crawled around on the floor, finally settling on the throw rug and playing with the fringe border.
Standing before her dresser mirror, she brushed her hair. Brush paused in midair, Meghan had a sudden vision of her mother sitting in front of a Christmas tree, a frown of distress creasing her forehead as she worried a damp handkerchief between her fingers.
Instead of Christmas carols playing on the radio, the sounds of a police band filled the house, bringing with it the madness of the season for the cops on the beat.
Armed robbery…purse snatching…shots fired…each crackling call brought tears to her mother’s eyes and terror to Meghan’s heart.
Would Daddy come home tonight? Daddy, with his blue uniform and shiny badge? Or would something bad happen to him? Would he be taken away from them by a bad person committing a crime?
“All it takes is one nut,” her mother would say every night when her father was on duty. “Just one crazy and your daddy is gone forever.”
The fear hadn’t been contained just to the Christmas season. Every time Officer Robert Roth left for duty, Meghan and her mother feared for his safety.
A childhood stolen in fear.
Seth had the same kind of job…one fraught with danger. Meghan couldn’t let Kirk experience the same kind of childhood she’d had. Better to not have a father at all than to entertain the dark, horrible thoughts she’d harbored as a child.
It wasn’t as if she’d asked Seth to do something impossible. All she’d asked of him was that he change jobs. And he hadn’t loved her enough to do that.
Dressed and ready for her outing, she picked up Kirk and carried him to his room. After changing his diaper and redressing him in extra-warm clothing, she carried him back to the living room where Seth was seated on the sofa.
He stood and approached her as she went to the coat closet. “Let me help you.” He held out his arms toward Kirk, who eyed him soberly for a long moment, then leaned forward for him.
Reluctantly, Meghan allowed Kirk to go into his father’s arms. As she pulled their coats from the hall closet, she tried not to notice the way Seth held Kirk close to his heart, how he smelled Kirk�
��s hair like a mother dog checking one of its own. She tried not to see how Seth closed his eyes, as if momentarily overwhelmed by holding his son in his arms.
She pulled her coat on, placed Kirk’s on him, then took Kirk back into her own embrace. “We’ll probably be gone for several hours,” she said.
She needed time away from him, away from his irresistible presence. She needed time to steady her self, to get control of the wayward emotions that raged inside her.
“Do you want me to do something about lunch?” he asked.
“No, we’ll just grab something while we’re out.” Murmuring a quick goodbye, Meghan stepped out into the cold, cloudy late morning air.
The smell of snow was in the air. Meghan breathed deeply, effectively banishing any lingering scent reminiscent of Seth. She had to forget how deeply, how profoundly she’d loved him and focus instead on the fact that he’d loved his job more than her.
She shopped for nearly two hours, deciding not only to buy a tree but new decorations as well. Kirk was at the age where he was into everything, so she bought several packages of plastic ornaments just perfect for little chubby hands.
As she shopped, she tried to justify her incredible awareness of Seth. Was it really so strange that he would affect her on such a visceral level?
It had been over two years since Meghan had felt a man’s touch, shared a heated kiss. She and Seth had enjoyed a mutually satisfying, lustful, physical relationship during the brief span of their marriage.
Was it any wonder that seeing him again, spending time with him again stirred her on an intense, hormonal level?
But, no matter how much Seth made her remember those passion-filled moments they’d shared over an intense seven months together, there was no going back.
They’d had their chance to grasp happiness, but he’d been too stubborn, too selfish to make the change that would assure them a forever together.
By the time she returned back to the house, the clouds had begun to spit snow and she felt more in control of herself, her emotions. She carried Kirk and her packages into the house.
Seth was in the living room. He’d moved a chair from the corner and the tree stand stood in its place. Lights were strung out across the floor, as if he’d been testing them to make sure none were burned out.
“I see you found the Christmas stuff,” she said as she set down both Kirk and her packages.
“Yeah, up in the attic. Some of the lights don’t work anymore, but I think I found enough to do the job just fine.” His eyes sparkled with boyish enthusiasm. “I hope you got a good tree.”
She was grateful that he’d pulled on a long-sleeved flannel shirt, hiding his impossibly broad, hard-muscled chest from her view.
She smiled, finding his high spirits and enthusiasm contagious. “It’s not huge, but it’s pretty.”
“I’ll go get it.” He started for the door.
“Wait.” She grabbed him by the sleeve. “I’ll get it. You shouldn’t be seen outside.”
He hesitated, his brow wrinkling with a frown. “I hate this hiding out.”
“But you’d hate the alternative even more.” They both knew the alternative was that Jonah would send Seth back to the Condor Mountain Resort and he would have no opportunity to hunt down Simon.
“I’ll be right back,” she said. Before he could voice any argument, she slid out of the door and back outside.
It took only a few minutes for her to maneuver the five-foot tree from the top of her car. Seth met her at the door and took over, easily carrying the fat, full tree to the awaiting stand in the corner.
“It’s a beauty,” he said as he carefully centered it in the stand.
Meghan shrugged out of her coat, noticing that Seth had removed Kirk’s outerwear while she’d been getting the tree.
The little boy sat on the floor with the package of the new ornaments in his hands, obviously fascinated by the colorful decorations.
“It’s a perfect day to do the tree.” He pointed to the nearby window, where the view was of fat, fluffy snowflakes swirling in the air. “Before we start on the tree, why don’t I make a fire?”
“Fine with me,” she agreed. “The firewood is stacked on the back porch.”
“While you were out, your neighbor stopped by,” he said a few minutes later as he stacked the wood and kindling in the fireplace.
“Mrs. Columbus?”
“Yeah. She invited us over for cookies and punch tomorrow evening. I accepted her invite.”
“You shouldn’t have,” Meghan replied. “She’s sweet, but she’s a busybody. She won’t be happy until she knows every detail of your life.”
He laughed. “I think I can handle one old busybody. Besides, I think she’s lonely. It wouldn’t hurt us to spend one evening with her.” He sat back on his haunches and lit the kindling.
Meghan tried not to notice how appealing he looked, with the flames of the fire warming his features. The fire was a mistake, she thought.
With the snow falling outside, the fire in the fireplace and the tree awaiting decoration, the whole scene looked like a picture on a postcard. A happy family preparing for the holidays.
But we aren’t a happy family, Meghan reminded herself firmly. We’ll never be a family. Seth had seen to that when he’d refused the one request she had of him.
“Okay,” he said. He stood and rubbed his hands together. “We’ll start with the lights. You want to grab the end of that string?”
Before doing as he asked, she opened the container of the plastic ornaments for Kirk, then grabbed the end of one of the strings of lights.
“We’re going to make this tree our masterpiece,” Seth said, his voice filled with high spirits.
“If you intend to use all those strings of lights, it will be more than a masterpiece, it will be a fire hazard,” Meghan replied dryly.
Seth laughed. “Ah, spoken like a true grinch.” As he reached for another string of lights, he chucked Kirk beneath the chin. “Did you know your mama was a grinch?”
Kirk giggled, as if he found Seth and his words hysterically funny. Kirk was warming to Seth. Kirk, who rarely took up with men, seemed to find his father quite acceptable.
Not for the first time since Seth’s arrival, Meghan felt the need to hurry…to find the information Seth needed so she could send him on his way…away from them. It was what was best. She had to get him away from Kirk.
As she and Seth strung the lights through the boughs of the sweet-smelling pine tree, their shoulders bumped, their hands touched and their hips met as they worked.
Meghan desperately tried to ignore the inadvertent touching, although she warmed and her body tingled at each point of contact.
Did he feel the same? He didn’t act like it. He appeared to be completely involved in transforming an ordinary pine tree into a work of art. As their hips bumped once again, Meghan realized she didn’t need him out of their lives just for Kirk’s sake, but for her own as well.
With the lights all strung, Seth turned them on and stepped back to survey the result. He hadn’t realized how dark and dreary the room had become until the tree lit up, illuminating the corner with a kaleidoscope of color.
Kirk laughed in delight and clapped his hands to gether and even Meghan managed to utter a soft sigh of appreciation.
“While I get the garland on, why don’t you find us some Christmas music on the stereo?” he suggested.
She frowned, but moved to the stereo and flipped through the channels until she came to a station playing holiday music.
As Seth strung the gold garland around the tree, Meghan went into the kitchen to fix a cup of juice for Kirk. When she returned and Kirk was happily drinking from the lidded cup, Seth handed her a box of ornaments.
For a few minutes they worked together, hanging ornaments on the tree branches. The music created a soothing ambiance but Seth was anything but soothed.
Meghan smelled too good. Her long, curly hair taunted him, glittering magica
lly in the multicolored light show that spilled from the tree.
He didn’t want to hang ornaments. He’d much rather tangle his fingers in her hair, pull her mouth to his and kiss her until they were both breathless. Instead of trying to decide where would be best to display the miniature Santas and snowmen amid the limbs, he’d rather have the dilemma of deciding which of her freckles to kiss first.
Who would be helping her decorate the tree next year? Would there be a man in her life to help her pick out a tree, help her carry it in and get it centered? Would there be a man who would help her tuck Kirk into bed, then take Meghan into her room and kiss the freckles that so taunted Seth?
Would the man be the David that had sent the arrangement to her? Would he not only be Meghan’s significant other, but also stepfather to Kirk?
“So, tell me why you hate Christmas,” he said, needing conversation to keep his thoughts out of dangerous territory.
She frowned, her eyes somber behind the wire-rimmed glasses. “I don’t hate Christmas exactly,” she said thoughtfully. Her fingers played over the surface of a glittery miniature sled. She had long, slender fingers, the nails painted a pearl pink.
Seth focused on the tree. He’d always found her hands incredibly sexy. “Were you traumatized by Santa when you were little? Did one of Santa’s elves goose you?”
She laughed, a spontaneous sound as pleasant as the music that surrounded them. “No. I wasn’t goosed by an elf, nor was I traumatized by Santa.” She hung the sled on a branch, the laughter fading. “You know my father was a cop.”
He nodded. “A good cop from everything I’ve heard.” Although she’d rarely spoken of her family, the few times she had it had been with enormous affection, especially for her father.
She sank down on the sofa, pulled her glasses off and set them on the coffee table. “He was a good cop, and he was a wonderful father until the day he died.”
Her voice held a wealth of emotion. Seth knew how hard she’d taken her father’s death and that the pain of her bereavement was with her still.
“Meghan, what does your father have to do with Christmas?” he asked softly. He knew her father hadn’t died around the holidays. The old man had passed away in his sleep on May 10, four years before.
Strangers When We Married Page 6