Deedee plunked the mugs onto the counter, planted her hands on her hips and glowered at him.
“I don’t recall saying I wanted a baby, Mr. MacAllister, but even if I did, which I don’t, it certainly wouldn’t be any concern of yours. A baby? Me? That’s absurd.”
“The hell it is,” he said none too quietly. “I was sitting next to you all evening, remember? I saw your reaction to Forrest’s rabbits, to the announcement that Jillian is expecting triplets.
“The smile you plastered on your pretty face for the rest of the evening was as phony as a three-dollar bill. Not only that, you were so pale your freckles looked like spots on a dalmatian. Oh, yes, Ms. Hamilton, you definitely want a baby.”
“You’ve got a lot of nerve, mister,” she said. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, and I really resent your—”
“Ah, Deedee,” he interrupted quietly, a gentle tone to his voice. He cradled her face in his large hands. “Talk to me. Trust me.”
It was too much, it really was.
If Ryan had continued to shout, Deedee could have held on, matching him holler for holler. But this? The gentle coaxing of his voice, the warmth of his chocolate brown eyes, the comforting feel of his hands on her cheeks, was her undoing.
She was so exhausted, so confused and frightened, and Ryan was a safe haven, a tower of strength, a chance to lean, just for a moment.
She looked directly into the dark pools of his eyes and burst into tears.
“Oh, man,” Ryan said, “now I’ve done it.”
He dropped his hands from her face, wrapped his arms around her and nestled her close. Deedee circled his waist with her arms, laid her head on his chest and wept.
And Ryan held her.
He dipped his head and savored her delicate aroma of lilacs, then rested his rugged cheek on her silky curls, allowing them to caress his skin like soft velvet. Her slender body was pressed tightly to his body, her breasts crushed enticingly to the hard wall of his chest.
She trembled as she cried, and fierce emotions of protectiveness and possessiveness consumed him, causing him to clench his jaw.
Nothing, and no one, would ever hurt Deedee Hamilton, he mentally decreed. She was so fragile, like a…yes, a butterfly. He would stand between her and harm’s way, keep her sheltered from pain.
She was so sad, was crying as though her heart was breaking. Deedee was meant to smile, to dance in the sunshine with the butterflies. If she wanted a baby, she should have her baby, and a special man to love and cherish her as the precious treasure she was.
Ryan frowned and lifted his head.
A man? his mind echoed. A faceless man who would reach for her in the night, make love to her, plant his seed in the feminine darkness of her body? A man who would watch her growing big with his child, then witness the miracle of that baby being born? A man who would place a pink or blue toy rabbit in front of the MacAllister family as part of The Baby Bet?
Damn it, if any man touched Deedee Hamilton, he’d take him apart!
Ryan shook his head slightly, and his frown deepened.
What in the hell was the matter with him? His mind was charging full-speed ahead down a road that led to Deedee being his, the baby she yearned for being his.
No!
He was married in his heart and soul to Sherry, always would be. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, ever love another woman. He’d chosen Sherry as his wife, and he intended to stay true to that vow. No one could ever take her place.
It was the tears, he reasoned. Deedee’s sad weeping was unraveling him, shredding him into pieces. That was understandable. Unless a guy was made of stone, he was undone by a crying woman.
Even tough cop Ted was jangled by a weeping woman, even a strange one encountered while in his role as a police officer.
Deedee wasn’t a stranger, someone Ryan didn’t know. She was Deedee, who had been on the fringes of his life for several years. His emotions had momentarily run away from him, but he was getting himself together now, back under control. If Deedee wanted a baby, she should have one, but he certainly wasn’t going to have anything to do with the conception.
The Baby Bet might very well be put into operation again in the future, featuring Deedee Hamilton, but Ryan MacAllister would place his twenty dollars in Forrest’s hand and watch it all unfold from the sidelines.
Deedee sniffled, then stiffened in Ryan’s arms, bringing him from his tumbling thoughts.
“Oh, dear,” Deedee said, then a wobbly little sob escaped from her lips.
She eased away from Ryan, and he released her. He took a pristine white handkerchief from his back pocket and handed it to her. She dabbed at her nose and eyes, refusing to look at him.
“I’m sorry,” she said, staring at the middle of his chest. “I’m so embarrassed. I don’t cry.” She paused. “Well, I obviously just did, but I usually don’t. I can’t even remember the last time I cried, it’s been so long. I’m very tired, you see, and…But that’s no excuse, and I do apologize for—”
“Deedee.”
“You’re very kind, Ryan, and patient, and…I’d appreciate it if you’d go now and allow me to be mortified alone. Try to forget this happened. Okay? Oh, you didn’t get your coffee. I owe you a cup of coffee. Good night and—”
“Deedee, look at me.”
She shook her head, pressing the handkerchief to her nose.
“Look…at…me.”
She sighed, dropped her hands to her sides and lifted her head slowly to meet his gaze.
Oh, hell, Ryan thought, smothering a moan. Her beautiful brown eyes were shimmering with tears, making them shine like starlight. Her nose was pink, her cheeks were blotchy, her lips were trembling slightly. Deedee was not a pretty crier. But Deedee was the most enchanting sight he’d ever seen.
He wanted to scoop her up and hold her close, kiss away the salty tears still streaking her face, then capture her lips with his. He wanted to feel her give way to her passion, just as she’d done during the kiss they shared earlier that evening.
And he wanted to make love to her for the remaining hours of the night—slow, sweet, sensuous love, meshing their bodies, becoming one entity. He’d take her away from reality, carry her to a place where she could dance with the beautiful butterflies.
He wanted…Damn it, MacAllister, knock it off.
“Come on,” he said, “let’s go into the living room, sit down and talk. Just for a few minutes. Okay?”
Before Deedee could reply in the negative, Ryan strode from the kitchen.
“Whatever,” she muttered, following him.
Ryan waited until Deedee had sat down on the sofa, then settled next to her, shifting slightly so he could look directly at her.
“Deedee,” he said quietly, “I’m very sorry that I upset you the way I did. The fact that you want a baby is none of my business. Well, it wasn’t any of my business, but now it is my business, because I’m the one who made you cry.”
Deedee glared at him. “You’re babbling.”
“Yeah, well, a crying woman is a very traumatic experience for a guy. Being big and strong, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound, isn’t worth squat when a woman is crying all over your shirtfront. It’s a very helpless feeling.”
“Oh. Really? I guess I never thought about it from the male point of view. Of course, I don’t go around crying every other minute, either.”
“Well, forget all that. The subject here is that something very important to you is missing from your life. What I can’t understand is why you haven’t done something about it. You’re an attractive, intelligent woman. A man would be very fortunate to have you for a wife, a life’s partner, the mother of his children. Why are you alone, Deedee?”
“Because I choose to be,” she said, her voice rising a bit. “I’m having this conversation with you because it seems like the polite thing to do. You do have a soggy shirt because of me and my behavior. However, the bottom line is actually what you babbled about. It’s
really none of your business.”
“You made it my business, remember? Why do you choose to be alone?”
“You must have been a good cop, Ryan. The poor suspect would confess just to get you out of his face.”
“Yep,” he said, smiling. “So answer the question.”
Deedee sighed and dabbed at her nose again with Ryan’s handkerchief.
“I was married to a wonderful man,” she said wearily. “Jim and I were perfect together, absolutely perfect. When he was killed flying an air force jet in a training mission, I was devastated. I hardly functioned for an entire year. I went through the motions of living, but I was actually only existing in a cold, empty void.”
“I understand,” he said, frowning. “I’ve been down that road.”
“I know you have. At some point, a person has to make choices, get on with their life. I decided to dedicate myself to starting Books and Books, making it successful. I’ve done that, and I’m very fulfilled, very pleased with what I’ve accomplished.”
“But?” he prompted.
“I don’t know what happened tonight,” she said, throwing up her hands. “I haven’t been pining away for a baby. Keeping in touch with myself is something I pride myself on. What made me react the way I did to Jillian and Forrest’s announcement about the triplets? I have no idea. I am happy with my life just the way it is, Ryan.”
He settled back against the sofa, folded his arms over his chest and squinted at the ceiling.
“No, you’re not,” he said. “Your subconscious was delivering a message to you that your conscious mind was not yet aware of as being a true fact.”
“Oh, good Lord,” Deedee said, “now I’m dealing with an amateur shrink. Ryan, go home.”
“In a minute.” He looked at her again. “You had a perfect marriage?”
“Yes.”
“There wasn’t the slightest glitch, not even one small problem?”
“No.”
“Bull.”
“Damn it, MacAllister, that’s enough. I was there with Jim. I know how it was. He’s been dead for ten years, and every detail of our life together is still crystal clear in my mind. I had perfection, and I won’t settle for less. The way I see it, what Jim and I had doesn’t happen twice, it just doesn’t.
“As for my reaction tonight about the babies? I’m human. I suppose, as a woman, there’s a tiny seed of desire hidden somewhere within me to have a child, and the three pink rabbits nudged it. It was a fleeting moment that is over. Yes, it upset me because it has never happened before, but it’s finished, kaput, done. Go home.”
“I’m going,” he said, not moving. “Look, just because you made a decision to devote your life to your career, doesn’t mean you can’t change your mind.”
“Is that so? All right, Mr. MacAllister, I’ll take a long, hard look at my life, on one condition.”
“Which is?”
“That you do the same thing with your life.”
Ryan opened his mouth, closed it and tried again.
“What?” he said.
“You heard me. Your entire family is concerned about who you’ve become since Sherry was killed. Can all those people be wrong? You made choices, decisions, just as I did.”
“I’m remaining true to the wedding vows I took with Sherry,” he said, his voice harsh. “That’s the way it is. That’s the way it’s going to stay.”
“Tsk, tsk. One would think one would practice what one preaches. You can change your mind regarding your life-style. You owe it to yourself to reevaluate your life.”
“The hell I do!”
“Neither do I. See? We agree. End of story. Good night, Ryan.”
“You’re the one who cried buckets over pink rabbits, not me. You’re the one who’s in trouble here, not me. I’m doing fine, thank you very much.”
“Ha! Any man who kisses a woman the way you kissed me isn’t doing so almighty fine in his solitude.”
“We covered all that. It’s basic lust.”
“Oh? But what if it isn’t, Ryan MacAllister? What if your subconscious is rapping you on your thick skull? What if you want a wife—not me, of course—but a special woman you’ve yet to meet. And what if you want a rabbit?”
“You,” he said, pointing a finger at her, “are nuts.”
“Am I? Fine. We’ll each go on living our lives exactly the way we are.”
“You can’t do that to yourself, Deedee.”
“My deal stands. I examine my existence only if you do the same to yours.”
Ryan lunged to his feet. “Man, you’re a stubborn woman. You’re a real pain in the butt, do you know that?”
Deedee stood, then shrugged. “Whatever.”
Ryan ran one hand over the back of his neck and shook his head.
“I don’t know why I should care one way or another about what you do with your life.” He glared at her. “It’s because you cried, I suppose. Tears just wipe me out.” He paused, then sighed with exasperation. “All right, you win. If I have to do a reality check on my life to get you to do one on yours, so be it.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Do you stay late at Books and Books on Friday night?”
“No, one of my employees is scheduled to come in to take the evening shift.”
“Good. I’ll pick you up here at seven, and we’ll go to dinner.”
“Why?”
“To discuss what we’ve thought about, and the conclusions we’ve reached so far. That’s how this is going to work.”
“Says who?”
“Me, Ms. Hamilton.” He gripped her shoulders, hauled her to him and planted a searing kiss on her lips. “Good night, Deedee,” he said when he released her.
“But…” Deedee started, pointing one finger in the air.
Before she could speak further, she heard the door close behind an exiting Ryan.
“Well, hell’s bells,” she said, rolling her eyes heavenward, then went to bed.
Chapter Seven
Ryan was deep in thought while he shaved the next morning, performing the daily ritual by rote.
He replayed the events with Deedee of the night before over and over in his mind, each time becoming more pleased with how things had unfolded.
Yes, sir, he thought smugly, he’d stepped right in and taken charge, had everything headed in the direction he’d decided was the proper way to go. He was calling the shots, making the rules.
He now had a legitimate reason to see Deedee on a regular basis, beyond when he’d be installing the new security system at Books and Books. He would do that job himself, of course, rather than assign it to his employees. The work would keep him in close proximity to Deedee.
Then, due to his genius-level plan, he was in a position to see Deedee regularly so they could work on reevaluating their lives.
Ryan rinsed the razor in the running tap water, then continued to shave.
Deedee was quick on the uptake, he had to admit. She’d nailed him tit for tat, demanded that he examine his existence while she was doing hers. That had thrown him for a second, but he’d regrouped fast enough. He’d dish out some malarkey that would satisfy her, prove he was “doing his thing.”
In the meantime, he would be accomplishing his goal of “overdosing on Deedee,” so he could get her out of his system. He would have the opportunity to allow his sexual attraction to her to run its course, dim, then finally fade out completely.
“Yep,” he said to his reflection.
As for Deedee…well, he truly believed that she did need to examine her present life-style and be totally honest with herself about what she wanted and needed to be fulfilled and happy.
But why was he pushing her to do that?
So okay, it was time he emerged from his cocoon…a little. Not a lot, just a tad. He fully intended to stay faithful to the vows he’d taken with Sherry, and he wasn’t sticking his neck out emotionally in new arenas. He wouldn’t render himself vulnerable by again becoming a cop wh
o cared, or by opening emotional doors for a woman to walk through. No way.
He’d loved. He’d lost.
The memories of Sherry would hold him in good stead for the rest of his life. He didn’t need more than that, not now, not ever.
He wasn’t the one who had cried about pink rabbits, for Pete’s sake.
Man, oh, man, he was slick. He’d maneuvered things around Deedee last night like a master chess player.
“You’re awesome, MacAllister,” he said. “Ow! Damn it, I cut myself.”
As Deedee drove to Books and Books, she drummed her fingertips on the steering wheel in time to a peppy tune playing on the car radio.
She felt marvelous, her solid night’s sleep having replenished both her physical and emotional energies. It was a new day, the sun was shining and she was in an upbeat frame of mind. It was really amazing what a little rest could do for a person.
Her agreeing to reevaluate her life only if Ryan did the same had been brilliant, absolutely brilliant. Where the entire MacAllister family had failed in their attempts to convince Ryan that he needed to move forward with his life, she was going to succeed.
She was totally confident that Ryan, a basically intelligent man, would come to see that existing behind his solid walls deprived him of a full and rich existence. He’d start to live again, embracing life the way it should be.
As for her? Well, no problem. Her crying jag over the pink rabbits had been a momentary lapse of purpose, a thoroughly feminine and explainable event. It was over, wouldn’t happen again and all was well.
Ryan believed she wanted a baby, possibly a husband, but she knew better. She’d have to fake her reports to him on the subject matter to keep him on his examining track. She wouldn’t be lying exactly, she’d be using whatever strategy was necessary to help Ryan. Very good.
“Next up on the agenda,” she said aloud.
Her sexual attraction to Ryan had been placed on the back burner, but had to be addressed. It was there, front-row center again.
Oh, dear heaven, when he kissed her she melted, when he touched her she dissolved. The man was potent, dangerous, hazardous to her mental health.
Friends, Lovers...And Babies! (The Baby Bet #2) Page 8