Gina heard the back door open, then Joey crying so hard his voice quavered. He’d worked himself into a frenzy that even J.T. couldn’t soothe. She sat up in the bathtub as they approached. Her milk let down. She smiled at J.T., who didn’t smile back.
“Is the bathwater too warm for him to join you?” he asked.
“You’ll have to test it. I’m used to it.”
He managed to push up his sleeve, then dipped a wrist in. “Seems okay. I’ll strip him down.”
He was gone before she could say thanks. Ignoring the little warning bell that rang in her head, she sank to chin level again, warming her chest.
J.T. swooped in, handed over the wriggling, naked baby, then left, muttering something about dinner.
Bells pealed a little louder. It wasn’t like him not to sit with her while she nursed. Last night all three of them had squeezed into the tub together. She’d kind of expected him to join them now.
Joey nursed frantically for a few minutes before he relaxed. She kissed his head, toyed with his hair. “You had a big day, didn’t you? It’s tough having everyone dote on you.”
He smiled at her.
“Charmer. You know exactly how to get what you want, don’t you?” She couldn’t hear kitchen noises, but she assumed J.T. was there, fixing dinner. She dragged a finger along Joey’s arm. “So, what do you think, Mr. Smarty Pants. Is J.T. going to propose to us?”
“Spaghetti okay?” J.T. stepped into the room.
She heated up from more than the bathwater. “Um, that’s fine. But there’s no hurry, is there? Come sit with us for a while.”
“No time. I’ve got to go back to the office after dinner.”
Off he went, without once looking below her chin.
Notre Dame’s bells had never clanged so loud as the ones going off in her head. He’d heard her talking to Joey. She was sure of it. Plus, he’d already been acting strangely. Dread tiptoed in.
She had a reprieve, though, until Joey was bathed and dressed. She didn’t hurry the task as the scent of basil and oregano drifted from the kitchen, but she wondered how she was supposed to have an appetite.
Her hands shook; her heart thudded. All day she’d been ignoring how cool he’d been at breakfast. Not cold, but distant. She couldn’t imagine why, not after the night they’d shared. He’d recemented some walls between them, though. At first she’d chalked it up to the aftermath of his reliving his memories, then she’d thought maybe things were moving a little too fast for comfort for him.
“He’s just adjusting,” she whispered to Joey, who’d dropped to sleep as soon as he was bundled up. “And he’s not a man of many words. He’ll come around.”
Still, she stalled leaving the bedroom until he called out that dinner was ready.
They pushed food around their plates. She saw him glance at her still-full dinner plate as often as she looked at his.
“Why do you have to go back to the office?” she asked at last.
“A conference call.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“Am I punching a time clock at home now?”
Startled, she locked her hands in her lap, felt her napkin slip to the floor, a lead blanket on her feet. “Of course not. I just wondered.”
He rubbed a hand down his face. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay—”
“No.” He shoved his plate aside. “No, Gina, it’s not okay. Nothing’s okay.”
Fear smacked an open hand against her chest.
“You’re sitting there wondering if I overheard what you said to the baby. About me proposing.”
Her throat closed, intensifying the pain streaking from her heart.
“I don’t want you to have any illusions,” he said flatly. “I thought you understood that I have no plans to be married.”
He wouldn’t look her in the eye, which gave her a measured dose of courage, counteracting the crushing pain. She dug into her memory. “You said it wouldn’t be easy being married to you. That’s different. And entirely true,” she added, anger coming to her rescue, bringing her voice back. “And having children has never been high on your list. Did I get that quote right?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “I already come with a child. Double jeopardy.”
She’d been hoping against hope that her fears were all in her head, that she couldn’t read him as well as she thought. Fool.
Her love for him was in the tendermost stage of all, easy to blossom and easy to crush, but she was a mature woman now, with a child to think of, not dependent on anyone but themselves. Better now than later.
She pushed herself up, grateful her legs locked. “We’ll get out of your hair.”
“You don’t have to go.” He swore. “I’m not kicking you out.”
“Why would I stay? You still want me to warm your bed or something?” How could she have made the same mistake? First Eric, now J.T. To be that wrong twice—
No. She’d watched him with Joey. Been the beneficiary of his tenderness—and his passion. He couldn’t fake that. He just couldn’t. She pressed her palms to her eyes. A jumble of emotions zoomed in and around her, creating chaos in her head. She plucked one question out of the pandemonium.
“What’s really going on here?” she asked, then was struck by a new thought. “What are you afraid of?”
“You’ve been hurt enough—”
“Oh, you got that right, pal. And if you hadn’t overheard my…my—” fondest wish “—speculation with Joey, how long would you have continued to use me?”
He shoved himself up, towered over her. “Look. You knew from the start that I wasn’t the man for you. Too many years separate us. We want different things. I can’t have children.”
“Can’t?” Something flickered in his eyes, then died out. Can’t? The word dangled in the air between them.
“Don’t want them,” he amended, too fast.
He said can’t. “You took such good care of my son.”
“He’s a baby! What was I supposed to do, ignore him?”
I can not be that wrong. What am I missing? What clue are you keeping from me? She needed her mind to clear so she could sort the facts.
He looked at his watch. “I have to go.”
“Fine. Run away.” She saw him flinch. What chord had she struck there? Too many clues and not enough time to analyze them.
“You don’t have to leave yet, Gina.”
“Why not? You found your grail, after all. Your quest to toss me on the pool table and take me has been fulfilled. I’m terribly sorry you had to use a bed, but at least your curiosity has been satisfied.”
“Not satisfied,” he said, then clamped his mouth shut.
She fell back a step. “I didn’t satisfy you?”
“That’s not what I mean. Hell. I meant that two nights weren’t enough to satisfy. God. I’m making a mess of this.”
“Am I supposed to feel better knowing you still want me? That it’s always only been physical?”
He wrapped his hands around her arms, holding her without hurting, but forcing her to look at him and listen.
“Here are some facts,” he said, his mouth hard, his eyes no longer golden. “One, yes, I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you. Two, making love with you was better than my fantasies. Three, I liked having you and the baby here. But, four, I am not husband material.” He said each word distinctly, as if she were slow-witted. “And you want a family, desperately.”
“Five,” she said quietly. “Eric will always be between us.”
His mouth tightened impossibly. “That, too.”
“Why? Aside from going after me when you wouldn’t—” she took a chance she was right on that “—what did he do to you?”
His eyes went blank, his body rigid, but he said nothing. She’d gone beyond some unspoken boundary, something to do with Eric.
“I wish you’d been honest with me before I bared my soul,” she said, the words painful. Before I pried open my chest and handed you my heart to keep with you forever. She lifted her chin a little higher. “I’ll sleep in the guest room. And tomorrow we’ll go.”
“You don’t—”
She interrupted him with a gesture. “You know, it’s going to be very hard to trust a man again, because I trusted you not only with my life, but with my child’s life. There’s no higher compliment I could pay you. To be that wrong…”
Tears, which had been welling up slowly as her heart wept, pressed at her eyes. She debated whether to let him see, this man who said he would protect her with his life. He’d held her son even before she had. He’d changed diapers and walked the floor with him. Kissed his little foot. Soothed him when no one else could. Made him laugh. Made her happy. Been her partner.
Lies. “I took off my ring for you,” she whispered. Then she pulled away and left him, hoping he hurt half as much as she did, knowing it wasn’t humanly possible.
He didn’t go home, but sat in his car where he could see the house, in case she left in the middle of the night. She didn’t. But lights were on until well past two o’clock, then at six-thirty she came out the back door, a grocery sack in each hand, which she loaded into her car, then returned for more. Deputy followed her, danced around her, barking occasionally. She ignored him. J.T. figured she saw him, though. He wasn’t attempting to hide.
Winnie drove up, pulled in behind her. They hugged and went into the house together, arm in arm.
After a while they came out, this time with the baby. When Gina climbed into the back seat to buckle him in, J.T. left his car and walked the hundred yards between them, his gaze fixed on her.
She shooed the dog away, then shut the car door and waited, stiff-backed and silent. Winnie headed for her car, passing by him. At least she didn’t attempt to rub his nose in her triumph. “Thanks for taking good care of my family,” she said, surprising him.
He supposed that being the winner meant she could be generous. She started her car and backed down the driveway, then waited at the bottom.
“So, this is it,” he said to Gina. Her eyes weren’t puffy from crying, but the sparkle was gone.
“Guess so.”
Her blasé response irked him. Damn it, Gina. You pity me. You think I’m a lousy cop who’s hiding out here because I couldn’t cut it in the big city. You believed that lying bastard you married. Why didn’t you know him better than that?
Why don’t you know me better than that?
He shoved a hand through his hair. He’d been over and over it in his mind during the long, cold hours. Nothing had changed. Nothing would.
“Will you let me know that you got home safely?”
“Your job is done, Chief.”
Her chin quivered. His heart hurt.
He opened the back door of the car and knelt on the seat. The baby was awake, his eyes focused on the swaying trees outside the back window. J.T. waited for him to see him. He did. And he smiled, big and bright.
J.T.’s chest swelled, his eyes burned. “Hey, JoJo.”
The smile faded into that serious frown he got sometimes.
“You’re one lucky boy, you know that?”
The smile again.
“Take good care of her, okay?”
Bouncing one leg, he smiled a little broader. J.T. backed out of the car and shut the door, then faced her, his soul on fire, a prelude to the hell he was about to live in. Her arms were folded across her stomach, as effective as an iron shield.
“Be happy,” he said, then scooped up the dog and headed to the house, not looking back when the engine started. Or when the tires crushed bits of gravel down the driveway. Or when the engine shifted from reverse to forward. Accelerated. Then faded.
Well, Mark, what do you say now? I put her needs above mine, even though it’s killing me. Someone else can give her children, someone who won’t be the subject of her pity. Chivalry is not dead. There’s your proof.
You put her needs first? came the sarcastic response. Your armor’s rusted shut, brother.