A Man to Hold on to (A Tallgrass Novel) (23 page)

Of course she didn’t. Therese had been as sure of that as she was that the sun rose in the east, but hearing it aloud in such unequivocal terms made her gut clench. She swallowed hard and forced her hands to steady so she could slide first one wire, then the other, into her earlobes. “Keegan and I are a long, long way from getting married.”

“But you’re thinking about it.”

Another swallow. Lord, she couldn’t believe she was having this conversation. If anything developed between her and Keegan—between her and any man—she wanted it to come so naturally that it was a done deal before Abby even had a chance to realize what was happening. “Any time you invest yourself in a relationship, you have to open yourself to the possibilities, or what’s the point?”

“God, that sounds so Dr. Phil.” Abby plopped onto the bed hard enough to bounce. “My mom has relationships all the time, but she swears she’s never getting married again.”

Her mom had affairs, and she hadn’t waited until divorcing Paul to start. But Abby didn’t need to know that, not now, not ever. “Most relationships don’t lead to marriage. Most people you date turn out to be just that—people you date, then say good-bye to. That’s probably the case with Keegan and me.”

Abby snorted. Oh, how Therese hated snorts. “Yeah, right. You spend more time with him than you do with anyone else, even Carly. And he doesn’t even live here. What are you going to do when he goes home? Sell the house and move to Louisiana? Gross.”

After spraying on perfume, Therese hesitantly sat at the foot of the bed. “If I fall in love with and marry someone whose job requires moving, yes, I’ll sell the house and move with him. That’s what I did with your father.”

“And Jacob and me don’t even have a choice. You’d ruin our whole lives so that you could be happy. Why do you have to be so selfish?” Abby’s lower lip quivered, and tears glistened in her eyes. She insisted she was grown up and tried so hard to make it true, but in that moment she reminded Therese of no one so much as little Mariah.

“Abby…” Therese forced down a sigh. She sighed so often that she was starting to hate them as much as she did snorts and grunts. “If your father hadn’t died, we would have already moved from Tallgrass. Moves are part of Army life. I know it would be hard for you and Jacob. It would be hard for me, too, leaving my friends and my job and this house. But it’s part of what we do.”

She waited for Abby’s outburst, but when the girl spoke, her voice was little more than a whisper, full of heartache. “I didn’t ask to be born into a stupid Army family.”

At that moment, Therese wanted more than anything in the world to wrap her arms around Paul’s daughter, to hold her close and ease her fears and make certain she knew that someone cared, someone wanted her to be happy, someone loved her. But she knew too well what would happen: Abby would stiffen, jerk away, be angry that she’d dared touch her, and deep down inside, it would hurt.

“I know you didn’t.”
Sweetie.
She should end the sentence with that. She called kids at school sweetie and honey and babe all the time. She’d called Mariah sweetie the first time she’d ever spoken to her. Abby was so much more than a student or a friend’s daughter, yet Therese couldn’t remember the last time she’d called this child who lived with her an endearment, if ever.

The doorbell pealed downstairs, and Therese’s glance slid to the clock. Keegan was right on time, expecting to leave Mariah there in Abby and Jacob’s care, expecting dinner for two, adult conversation, and so much more. Therese, who wore her sexiest lingerie beneath her summer dress, had shared those expectations, but she dismissed them as she rose from the bed and summoned a smile. “Why don’t we all go out to dinner tonight?”

Abby considered it a moment, then sniffed as she stood up. “I’d rather have pizza. Besides, I promised Mariah we’d watch every Shrek movie ever made.”

“You’re sure you’ll be okay with her?”

Now a hint of the old Abby returned, with a roll of her eyes and a toss of her hair. “She’s nearly three, and she adores me, and Nicole’s mom is down the street. Why wouldn’t we be okay?”

“Therese!” Jacob yelled, Mariah’s slightly softer, “Trace!” echoing his. An instant later, she added, “Abby, where are you?”

“I’m coming,” Abby called back. She looked at Therese as if she didn’t know what else to say, shrugged, and left the room.

After picking up a delicate sweater that matched her dress, Therese checked her image in the mirror once more, noting the heightened color in her cheeks, a side effect of the knot in her gut. She closed her eyes a moment, whispered a silent prayer for guidance and strength, then headed downstairs.

They were gathered in the foyer, Mariah with a pink-and-purple pack strapped to her back. She would bring DVDs, she’d said excitedly on the way back from the lake, and clothes and pajamas. Just in case.

Keegan looked up when Therese was halfway down the stairs, and appreciation darkened his eyes, sending a shiver of warmth through her. He wore jeans, faded and snug, and a rich blue shirt, the color somewhere between navy and turquoise. The cuffs were rolled back a few times, exposing his muscular forearms, and the tail was untucked. He was incredibly handsome in a charming, incorrigible sort of way.

His smile formed slowly, and her stomach flip-flopped. She was glad she’d chosen the dress with its swaths of pastel colors and fitted cut and hem that was almost too short, that she’d taken extra time with the curling iron to put waves in her hair, that she’d picked the pretty, skimpy bra and panties of pale green satin and lace that left little to the imagination.

Not that she imagined Keegan would actually pay attention to them in the process of removing them.

Hoping no one noticed the huskiness in her voice, she started to repeat the instructions to the kids. Abby stared at the ceiling as if bored, and Jacob interrupted when she paused for breath.

“We got it the first three times, Therese. Keep the doors locked, eat the pizza Keegan brought, watch out for the cookie monster”—he pointed to Mariah, and she beamed—“and call you if we need to. Right?”

She breathed. “Right. And no company. No—”

“Blah blah. Good-bye.” Abby took Mariah’s hand. “Come on, let’s see what kind of pizza your dad brought.”

Predictably Jacob followed them down the hall to the kitchen. Nearer, Keegan chuckled, handed her purse to her from the hall table, then steered her to the door. “Okay, Mom. Can we go now?”

“Abby and Jacob have never babysat before—”

“They’ll be fine.”

“I know.” Mariah did adore Abby and would do whatever she said, and Abby obviously adored her right back. Jacob was always responsible, and she was only worrying about them because it kept her from thinking too much about herself and the step she was going to take tonight and the man she was going to take it with.

A step she wanted to take. A man she wanted. More than she’d let herself admit.

On the short drive downtown, Keegan asked her to choose a restaurant, and she opted for Luca’s, the best Italian place in Tallgrass. They had to park nearly two blocks away, but the air was still warm and it was too early in the evening for the heels that showed her legs to such advantage to pinch.

Keegan didn’t open the car door for her—she’d always felt foolish sitting inside as if helpless—but when he met her on the sidewalk, he took her left hand, twining his fingers with hers. It put the tiniest bit of pressure on her wedding and engagement rings, making them bite just the littlest bit, and for the first time since Paul had put them there, she wondered if it was time to remove them.

The bittersweet thought made her breath catch and a small lump form in her throat.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Therese.”

Her breath caught again, the lump growing. “Thank you. And you’re a sweet-talker and a charmer like your daddy.”

“Thank you,” he retorted smugly. “There’s one big difference between us, though: I understand the importance of commitment.”

She understood his message. He wasn’t taking anything that happened here lightly. He really wanted to see what this thing between them could become. He really thought their getting together might be fated.

Was he destined to break her heart, too?

Things happen when they happen. You take advantage or you don’t.

She had enough regrets for things that had happened. She didn’t want regrets for things she’d never given a chance.

“Abby seemed upset,” he commented as they crossed the street. “Is everything okay?”

Therese marveled that he’d even noticed. So many people wouldn’t have felt the faint tension radiating from the girl or seen the tiny signs of distress on her face. Catherine wouldn’t have. Paul wouldn’t have. “Not upset so much as concerned.”

“About you and me?”

“About things changing.” She gazed at the sidewalk ahead, cracked and buckled where the roots of a hundred-year-old oak pushed against it. “I realized while talking to her that I don’t make as much effort with her as I do with kids I don’t even know. All this time I’ve thought I was so noble and patient for putting up with her tantrums and her drama. I reason with her. I punish her. But I don’t try to comfort her or show her affection.”

“You’ve tried before.”

“Sure, when they first came to live with us, when Paul deployed, when he died.”

“You get rejected enough times, it’s natural to stop trying.”

“I’m not sure, as a parent, you get to stop trying. How many times have I criticized Catherine for that? How many bad thoughts have I had about other parents, like Sabrina, who put themselves ahead of their kids?” She shook her head grimly, grateful for the warmth and comfort of his hand holding hers. When was the last time Abby had that sort of physical, nonjudgmental comfort? “I may be just a stepparent, Keegan, but I’m the only parent Abby’s got. And apparently I’ve got no room to criticize Catherine. I’m no better a mother than she is.”

Keegan wasn’t even a stepparent, but he was the closest thing to a parent Mariah had. Sometimes, he was learning, it didn’t have anything to do with a blood tie. Sometimes an emotional tie was just as strong. Even stronger.

Like him, Therese was discovering just how strong her emotional tie to Matheson’s kids was.

He stopped underneath the oak in front of the restaurant, where the massive trunk shielded them from view of the people inside, and turned to face her. She really was beautiful, whether in this pretty girly dress and heels or shorts and T-shirts and flip-flops, whether her hair was down and curling back from her face and tempting him to touch or in a ponytail. Solemn eyes, delicate bones, full lips that were flattened now in an unhappy line that matched the look in her eyes.

Raising his free hand, he brushed his palm lightly over her hair. “Do you know how few women would have allowed their husband’s kids from a former marriage to live with them? Would have kept them while he deployed? Would have let them stay after he died? Especially when their mother was alive and well and loving the single life in another state?”

She dropped his gaze for a moment as if she didn’t want to agree with him but couldn’t quite bring herself to disagree. Her situation was unusual, and they both knew it.

“Things have been tough. You’ve lived with a lot of anger and grief and conflict, and no one could blame you for wanting to end it. You’ve tried with Abby. You know that.”

“But I gave up too easily.”

“You haven’t given up.”

She shook her head, dislodging his hand to her shoulder. “I went to JAG to find out how to get her out of my house and my life.”

“Wow, you asked some questions of a lawyer. You’re a horrible mom. But, Therese, she’s still there. You haven’t taken JAG’s advice. You haven’t called her mother or her grandparents. You haven’t done a thing to start the process. You haven’t told her to pack her bags. Not that she has a lot of clothes to start with.” He grinned as he repeated Abby’s comment from the night they’d met, and so did Therese, easing the bleakness in her eyes.

Momentarily. “But—”

Since she wasn’t going to give up easily on blaming herself, he leaned forward and kissed her. Her protest stopped immediately, and her lips softened against his. She gave what he thought might have been a little sigh and seemed to sink against him and opened her mouth so his tongue could slide inside.

A kiss is just a kiss,
the song said, but whoever wrote it had obviously never kissed Therese. It was sweet and simple and complicated and hungry and sent a rush of heat through his body like an inexperienced boy getting his first kiss from the homecoming queen. A kiss could be just a kiss, but it could promise so much more, and this kiss was definitely going to lead to more.

Aroused, shaken, and in need of oxygen, Keegan ended the kiss, but didn’t draw away. Her eyes fluttered open, and they stared at each other, so close, not close enough. But soon.

She raised her hand to his face, laying her palm lightly against his jaw. He couldn’t see the big diamond, but he felt where the cool gold bands touched his skin, or imagined he did. What would it take to persuade her to remove the rings? Putting a ring of his own there?

He could see himself doing that.

The thought both surprised him and felt as natural as if he’d planned it forever. They hadn’t known each other long enough. He was still keeping the secret of Mariah’s real father. But it wasn’t the length of time that was important. It was the quality. Whether two people clicked. Whether they were meant to be together.

As for Mariah’s secret…He didn’t have to think about that right now, did he?

“Luca’s gnocchi is calling my name,” she said with a little smile. “Let’s continue this later.”

Definitely the kiss had held a promise.

The restaurant occupied an old house, the graceful kind with big porches, wide arched doorways, high ceilings, and cozy rooms. Therese requested a table near the garden, and the hostess led them down a long, broad hallway and through the rear door onto another porch. Only one of the half dozen tables was taken, at the far end from their own table.