“Tell me what you’re thinking, Maggie. I can’t stand the silence. I…missed you.”
Of course, he had; she had something he wanted now. Her hand touched her stomach, where their son was doing his cartwheels. Dr. Kaur had told her he was a big boy. Strong and active.
Looking at his father, she had no doubts why. Strong and active definitely described Clint. All six-foot-four inches of him.
The man looked strong and fit and active, all right. He looked perfect, though his warm brown hair was in need of a haircut again, his blue eyes were tired, and there was a new scar on his forehead she hadn’t seen before.
The rest of him looked as strong and hard and lean as it always had been. Probably from the work he’d put in on the ranch, even after his shift with the Wyoming Highway Patrol would end.
He was one of the hottest men in Masterson County; that was something she would never argue.
No matter how her hormones were screaming she was his, Maggie was resolute on one thing.
Maggie wasn’t about to be something convenient for a man ever again.
“We both know that you didn’t want more between us eight months ago. I don’t see how anything has changed. Yes, it was months ago, but to me...it wasn’t. I’ve had a lot of time to think about...us. Or the us that has never existed. It shouldn’t have happened. I don’t regret it, for the baby’s sake, but...We slept together because it was…convenient. I can’t be that again.”
“No, Maggie. That’s not it. The biggest regret I have is that I was an idiot the next day. I should have followed you down the hall and…been honest. I’ve thought about nothing else since you and Violet were taken away from me. I—”
She couldn’t stand it. Not now. It wasn’t right. Fair.
She’d dreamed of him saying these very words—more than seven months ago, long before she’d even known about the baby.
Maggie knew Clint down to his toes. Knowing his baby was growing in a woman would make him feel that responsibility. He’d feel obligated to try to build a future for them—no matter how he really felt about her.
He’d convince himself that there were feelings there—so that he could do the right thing.
He’d had almost six months to plan how to do the right thing.
That just wasn’t good enough for her.
She didn’t want to be some man’s right thing.
She wanted to be loved—not be someone’s responsibility.
She knew exactly what it was like to be someone’s responsibility when that man hadn’t asked for it.
Her brother Martin had never once complained about keeping her when she’d been fourteen, but she’d seen what the strain had done to him. He’d ended his long-term relationship because the woman involved hadn’t wanted responsibility for Maggie. He’d stopped running around with friends of his. Stopped being Martin for a while there, just to take care of her.
It had hardened him, in ways she couldn’t define. Closed him off from the rest of the world. Closed him off from hurt.
She’d never be a man’s responsibility like that again. She’d stand on her own two feet, no matter what.
Clint carried responsibility better than anyone she’d ever seen. She knew exactly what that man was planning—this was one of those scenarios she and Mel had discussed many, many times.
She wasn’t going to let herself get dependent on him for anything. That way lay only heartache.
Maggie held up a hand. “I’m sorry, Clint. I don’t really want to hear this anymore. I... I’m not interested in a relationship just for the sake of the baby. I want more than that. I deserve more than that. I deserve a man that loves me completely. No strings or ties. And I’m willing to wait for that.”
She’d just spent the last five months surrounded by couples who were so deeply in love with one another that she’d almost been able to reach out and touch the connections that ran so deep between them.
Mel and her husband Houghton had a connection that was meant for the movies, it was so strong.
Mel had told Maggie in a particularly weepy moment that she’d kick Maggie’s butt if she settled for anything less than the real deal.
Maggie was worth it. She didn’t know why she hadn’t ever had that thought before.
Growing up with her brothers, she’d never had much time to reflect on hopes and dreams and what she wanted from life. It had always been a matter of just getting by. Getting things done. Practical, purposeful—do what you had to do to keep things going for just another day. After she’d been fourteen it had been even more intense. She hadn’t allowed herself to mess up at all.
Make no waves, just do.
To keep the social worker away. There had been one particularly vile social worker who had had it out for their family—especially her brother, Michael.
Because of some girl they’d fought over when they’d been teenagers. That social worker had loved terrorizing Maggie whenever he could. Telling her she’d be sent away to another county—or a group home.
She’d learned quickly—don’t rock that boat.
Settle for what you could manage or get and just move on.
She was a lot like her brother Martin in that way. After they’d lost their parents, he’d tightened the reins on himself so intensely that he hadn’t resembled the big brother she remembered at all.
None of them had been allowed to mess up at all.
Maggie had been terrified that if she made a mistake, it would destroy everything for all of them. It had been a real possibility, with that social worker.
Losing her brothers had been her greatest fear back then. That was when she’d first started running, hiding from life.
No more.
She and Mel had discussed that in detail, too. Mel was a practical person down to her bone. She’d lost her mother in her early twenties and had stepped up to help her father with her younger sisters.
Mel understood.
Mel had told Maggie to throw all that out the window for once, and dream.
Just go figure out what it was that would make her happy. Her.
No worrying about her brothers or Violet or even the baby. What would make Maggie happy?
Maggie had just stared at her for a long moment, like a total idiot. She didn’t have time to dream. She had a baby coming.
A baby who deserved the best possible life she could give him. That was what would make her the happiest. There was no question about that.
Mel had said she understood that. But eighteen years was a long time for Maggie to wait and make do. To settle.
She’d told Maggie to just stop accepting that she had to settle.
Mel had told her something about fear keeping her from what she deserved.
It had taken a while—but Mel had had all those months to work on Maggie. She’d made Maggie her personal mission. Maggie had figured that out pretty early, too.
She would always be thankful to Mel for what she’d done for her. Because of Mel, Maggie understood something about life that she hadn’t before.
She didn’t have to settle for anything again. And she wasn’t going to. She would raise her child with Clint, however best they thought, and she would have her career, too. For herself.
She would be happy. No matter what. Eventually, if the time was ever right, maybe she’d find a man she loved the way Mel loved Houghton.
A man who loved Maggie just as much in return.
There was an entire world out there, and Maggie wanted to be a part of it. She didn’t want to be hidden away from the world on Clint Gunderson’s ranch in Masterson County—raising his children, doing his laundry, cooking his meals, and being...forgotten about.
Being invisible.
She wouldn’t be his convenient wife.
Maggie feared she’d just disappear forever if that was what she became.
Nor would she be his way of assuaging his conscience or his honor. “I’m not interested in something more with you, or with anyone. Not...now. I just wa
nt to focus on getting settled back home in Masterson. I’ll need to find a house for me and the baby. I have a good job—a well-paying job that I intend to keep and can easily do virtually. I’ve already worked out the details to do just that once the baby is born. I want to nest for a while. We can discuss visitation and things in a week or two.”
“You’re not staying on the ranch with me? I know you were scared last time you were there. But I’ve repaired the place. Repainted. It’s a good place now. Plenty of room for the babies. And any more you want to have after this one.”
Dear heaven, he meant it. He just expected her to go right back out there and just…be there.
Talk about a totally clueless man.
Having his arms around her but him not truly loving her—that would slowly drain the life right out of her. She couldn’t do that to herself.
It would be different—if he really loved her. If they had had a chance to actually fall in love with each other. If it was real—instead of convenient.
The man was clueless. Completely clueless. “I... no. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“What about Violet?”
She shot a look into the rear seat, to the safety mirror clipped above the car seat. Violet was sound asleep now, her little fist jammed up next to the tiny mouth that was identical to her father’s. “What about her? She’s almost home now...”
And it was breaking Maggie’s heart to imagine leaving her. She felt sick just thinking about it.
Violet was Clint’s daughter. Not Maggie’s. Violet belonged with her father. She’d told herself that multiple times each day in Texas.
Violet wasn’t hers; no matter how much Maggie loved her.
“She thinks of you as her mother. Anyone can see that; and it makes perfect sense that she would. You have taken care of her for nearly her entire life. You can’t just leave her now. She’s far more bonded with you than she is me right now.”
“I don’t want to leave her. But I seriously doubt you’ll let me just keep her.” She wished he would. More than anything, it was breaking her heart to even imagine leaving Violet.
Violet was the daughter of Maggie’s heart and always would be. No matter what happened between Maggie and Violet’s father.
“She belongs at home, in her own room, in her own bed. With me. But she belongs with you, too. All I want is what’s best for my baby—for both my kids. Help me make that happen. Stay at the ranch with me, Maggie. At least long enough for Violet to get settled in. A few weeks. Please? I’m asking you for my daughter. After that, we’ll figure this out. What’s best for both kids. And for us, too.”
He was a master manipulator—he was going to use every tool in his arsenal to get her right where he wanted her.
In his house, caring for his children, and probably—very conveniently for him—in his bed warming his sheets. No doubt making that bed the next morning, too, before cooking him breakfast, patting him on the head, and sending him out on adventures without her. While she kept the home fires burning and tended his children.
Just waiting for him to really love her. She’d be waiting forever for that to happen. She just couldn’t do it.
Maggie’s eyes closed for a moment as she took in the sight of Masterson County. Of home.
He’d said the one thing she’d known he would. The one thing she couldn’t resist.
Violet.
Maggie loved her so much she’d do anything to ensure the little girl was safe, happy, and whole.
Maggie wanted some time in her own home to get settled in before the baby came. That meant... “Two weeks. Not a moment longer. In two weeks, I want to be in my own house in town and preparing for the baby. That’ll give me four weeks before he comes. That’s all I’m agreeing to. Period.”
She opened her eyes and looked into Clint’s lighter blue ones. That’s when she knew.
She’d just played right into that man’s far too skilled hands. He had her right where he wanted her.
5
Clint fought the urge to crow. He’d won this round and he knew it. There was no way in hell he was letting this woman get away from him. And not just for the babies’ sakes. He’d had a lot of time to think over the last five months.
If he had been any kind of man back then, he would have faced her the morning after they’d slept together. Instead, he’d closed himself off and told himself—and her—that he had to focus on his caseload. That he couldn’t do anything stupid.
Well, telling her that had been the stupidest thing he had ever done.
Now he was paying the price.
He had to fix that. Two weeks wasn’t much time, but he was going to do his damnedest. “That sounds reasonable. And when the time comes, I’ll help you get your new place ready for the baby. All I want...is for all of us to be happy, honey. All of us. Not just the babies.”
Her hand stroked over her abdomen, and she winced. Worry hit him.
Maggie was around five-five and thin. All of the Tyler women he’d ever met were on the smaller side. The baby looked huge on her narrow frame. “Are you ok? You and the baby? Everything...healthy?”
He couldn’t lose her. Not like he had Amy.
Losing Amy had been horrible; to lose Maggie now would damn near destroy him.
The mere thought of losing Maggie had had him waking in a deep sweat more nights than he could count. Only that she had been with the one other woman on the planet he’d absolutely trusted had kept him sane at all. He’d known Miranda would protect her and Violet. But that hadn’t really mattered.
Losing Maggie was his nightmare.
The Maggie next to him now wasn’t the Maggie in his memories.
Not really. There was a strength of will that hadn’t been there before.
He found her even more fascinating now than he had all those months ago.
Clint had been obsessed with her. Every move the woman had made in his house, near him, right in front of him had…fascinated him. Made him want to touch her. Hold her. Taste her. Over and over again.
He’d had no choice; to keep his sanity, he’d had to stay the hell away from her.
“Why don’t you lean back a little, rest some until we get ho—back to the house?”
He wanted her to see what he’d managed to do with the place since he’d lost her and Violet all those months ago. Wanted to make her feel like it was her home now, too. He’d even painted the living room in the colors she had suggested months ago. He’d wanted to make it a dream home for her.
For Maggie.
No more of that housekeeper and nanny bullshit. She was far more than that.
She dozed off beside him as they drove the remaining miles through the light snow to his place. As he slowed and pulled into his driveway, he looked at her. Really looked at her, more than he had on the plane.
She was gorgeous. Beautiful in that natural way some women had.
She’d cut her hair a bit. Styled it. Before, she’d had long strawberry red hair she’d worn pulled into a ponytail most days. Now it was sleekly styled—and very expensive looking.
No surprise; she’d spent five months playing besties with a billionaire’s wife. Even if that woman was a former cop, she was the playmate of one of the richest men on the continent. She was expected to look great and well put together at all times. Probably had her own hair salon in the basement, or something.
He tried not to let insecurity flare again.
Maggie had probably hobnobbed with the rich and famous for months. The Barratts of Texas—the damned Barratts who were in the celebrity news and tabloids all the time. Hard to miss that in the damned grocery store line with the tabloids right there in front of him.
Maggie had no reason to want him after being around men like that.
She was gorgeous enough, smart enough, loving enough, perfect enough to have any man in the world falling at her feet.
Especially in Masterson County, where men outnumbered women by a factor of three. He’d been lucky some other
guy hadn’t already snatched her up and away from him. Clint wasn’t stupid.
She had no reason to want a man like Clint.
He reached out, intending to touch her gently. To wake her.
Instead, his hand lingered on her narrow shoulder.
He glanced in the rearview mirror, checking where his daughter slept in her car seat. Gratitude to the Man Above filled him.
He had been convinced five months ago that he’d never have the chance to tell Maggie how much she meant to him. To make it up to her and Violet.
But that part of his life was in his past. As was his father, his brother, and the WHP and CID and IA in general.
He was free.
Free to do what he had to do to build the family he wanted.
Violet fussed in her sleep, calling for her Mag-Mag. He would see that shifted to Mama soon.
He had two weeks. Fourteen short days.
He was going to use them wisely.
Clint saw the two ranch trucks parked in front of his porch when he rounded the last curve in his drive too late to turn around and hightail it back to the inn.
Trucks he recognized.
Dread filled him immediately. Hell, no. Not tonight.
He was probably about to get his ass kicked seven ways to Sunday.
Maggie’s brothers had found out she was coming home. And now they were here to get her.
Probably there to kill him, too.
Phil Tyler wasn’t there to save his ass this time.
“Maggie? Time to wake up.” He shook her awake firmly. “Honey? Your brothers are here. Time to wake up.”
6
Maggie heard his words, but it took a moment for them to register—and for her to remember where she was and who she was with. She squeaked in surprise. Which was ridiculous. Twenty-five-year-old women should not squeak when facing the father of their unborn child.
But she had. Damn it.
She saw Clint next to her—and then she saw the two trucks parked in front of the porch.
Facing the Fire Page 3