An Unlikely Daddy (13 page)

Ryker sighed quietly and tried to wipe the questions from his head. He had grown increasingly certain that he needed to change something, that he was getting tired of his mission-oriented life, but he had to be careful about what he chose.

His parents kept nagging him to settle down, especially his mother. Sometimes he was quite certain that she believed he was a changeling. They didn't know any more about what he did than Marisa, but they knew it wasn't “normal.” His mother's worried gaze popped up in his mind's eye, and he felt her concern for him reach across the miles. He could never answer her questions, nor erase her fears for him, not as long as he kept his job. His missions were important, but maybe he'd failed to consider how they affected others. The way John had apparently never given any real thought to what might become of Marisa.

On the one hand he was making sacrifices for his country. On the other he was stealing something from the people he cared about most. Facing that, he knew the time for change had come. No ifs, ands or buts. The attitude shift in him answered the question.

Now all he had to do was figure it out.

* * *

Marisa slept through the entire night. When her eyes popped open and saw the digital clock beside the bed, she started. She was alone in the bed, and now she was embarrassed. What a way to treat Ryker after their incredible lovemaking. Hurrying, she popped out of bed, showered and dressed quickly in one of Johnny's old sweatshirts and a pair of stretchy fleece pants.

She found Ryker in the kitchen enjoying coffee with a stack of toast on the table. He looked at her with a warm smile. “Sleep well?” he asked.

“I can't believe... Ryker, I'm sorry. That was rude.”

“Rude?” He shook his head, laughing quietly, and rose to wrap her in his arms. She leaned into him, loving the way it felt to be held by him. Then, gently, he turned her around so that she leaned back into his embrace. One of his hands settled over her swollen belly, the other cupped her breast boldly, causing her to gasp with instant pleasure.

“No apologies,” he said, dropping a kiss on her neck. “It was wonderful. You were tired. How are you and how's your little passenger?”

“We're fine. We're better than fine,” she admitted, relaxing into him. “It was so beautiful.”

“It was,” he agreed, his voice nearly a deep purr. “Perfect. But now I need to feed you.”

She felt reluctance as he released her and urged her into a chair. As she sat, she realized she didn't want him to let go of her. She wanted him to take her back to bed and bring that miraculous magic to her once more.

Just looking at him made her ache with hunger. She no longer cared why it had happened; it had just happened, and right now it made her feel happy. She was allowed that, right?

He fed her scrambled eggs and toast, along with a cup of coffee and a tall glass of orange juice. He sat across from her with his own coffee, just smiling.

There was a peace to this morning, the kind of peace she hadn't felt in a long time. For once she didn't even remind herself that he'd leave her the way Johnny had so often. This morning none of that mattered.

Her appetite seemed to have reawakened with her, and she ate heartily...at least until shyness began to overtake her. She wasn't usually a shy person, but so much had changed last night. The intimacy they'd shared... All of a sudden, the memory of how she had cut loose, how she had asked Ryker to take her to bed, overwhelmed her. How did they move forward now? She didn't have a thing to say, even though her body was still vibrating at his presence.

“Marisa? Are you regretting last night?”

She glanced up and saw that his face had shadowed, lost some of its relaxation. “No,” she said swiftly. “I'm just...it's just...” She bit her lip. “I don't know where we go from here. I just feel...shy, I guess. Unsure. Last night changed things, and I don't know quite what to say or do.”

She darted a look at him and was amazed to see him smiling. “Ah,” he said as if he understood that garble.

“Ah?”

He tilted his head to one side briefly, a kind of shrug. “I think I get it. Well, this doesn't change anything you don't want it to change. I'm still the same Ryker, except that I happen to be feeling quite special this morning.”

“You feel special?” The idea amazed her.

He nodded and leaned forward, reaching for her hand. “You gave me an incredible gift. Why wouldn't I feel special?”

“But...you gave me something special, too.”

“I hope so. Just relax and be yourself. I wouldn't change one hair on your head, Marisa Hayes. Not one. You're beautiful, you're generous with yourself, you're a loving person. You deserve every good thing in life. If I gave you one of them, then I'm a very lucky guy.”

Wow, that was overwhelming from a man who had often seemed to her to live behind impenetrable walls. Except those walls had been coming down, like with the Christmas tree yesterday. For whatever reason, he was reaching out for something. Maybe not her, but he was reaching, and she suspected he was trying to regain something he'd lost.

She turned her hand over, clasping his in return. “Thank you.”

His smile deepened. “Today's a good day for just basking in the glow, don't you think?”

“Carpe diem?”
she asked.

He laughed. “I take 'em where I can get 'em.”

Which reminded her of when he had said that he
loved 'em and left 'em
. He'd warned her, and she'd reached for him, anyway. But certainly she wasn't naive enough to fall for him. She knew their time together was limited. No, she wasn't foolish enough to do that.

So why not just enjoy the day?

* * *

They cuddled on the couch much of the day, taking time to eat, enjoying the tree and desultory conversation that just kind of rambled. It wasn't as if either of them were in a mood to dive into deep emotional waters.

Hardly surprising her, he admitted to having been a bit of a daredevil as a kid and showed her the scars to prove it. Stitches and broken bones had been common for him as a child, and he recounted the time his mother had stood beside him in the emergency room and just burst out with, “Will you, please, just live long enough to grow up?”

“I think I was hard on her,” he admitted. “She tried to shrug a lot of it off as natural high jinks, but finally it really started to get to her. I behaved a little better after that.”

“Really? I'm supposed to believe that?”

“Well, there were only a few more stitches and no broken bones.”

She sighed, feeling his shoulder beneath the back of her head. His arm wrapped around her, beneath her breasts and just over her belly. She spoke. “I think I'm glad I'm having a girl.”

“Nothing says a girl can't be a daredevil, too.”

She laughed. “I guess not.”

“What about you?”

“Nothing like you. I was kind of a geek or a nerd, or whatever it's called these days. Always buried in books. Part of the chess team and debate team. Editor of the school paper. A bookworm, in short.”

“You're one helluva pretty bookworm.”

“I didn't date,” she admitted. “I'm not sure, but I think I scared guys off.”

“I can't imagine it.”

“Well, I sure didn't appeal to them.”

He lifted his hand, cupping her breast. “Say that one more time, I dare you.”

“What are you going to do?” she demanded.

“This?” He rubbed his palm back and forth across the peak of her breast. She wasn't wearing a bra, and her nipple hardened instantly. Shivers of longing poured through her. “Ryker...” she gasped.

“Let me tease you. I think we need to be careful.” He stopped caressing her and instead gave her a gentle squeeze.

“My doctor said...”

“I'm sure your doctor was right. But I'm not sure he was imagining a marathon. For your sake, I can wait. How about you?”

She sighed, closing her eyes, clamping her thighs together to quiet her hunger. “I suppose you're right.”

“Maybe better than finding out someone was totally wrong.”

She couldn't deny it.

“Besides, I'm really enjoying this, holding you like this. Sad truth about Ryker Tremaine?”

“Sure.”

“I don't do this. Ever. But here I am, and I'm thinking about all I chose to miss until you came along.”

Her heart filled with an odd combination of pleasure and pain. Pleased that he was content with holding her like this, sad that he had missed so much. “That was sweet,” she said.

“Just the unvarnished truth. Any other time in my life I wouldn't have been here this morning.”

She caught her breath. The swelling in her heart no longer contained any pleasure at all. She couldn't tell which of them she hurt more for, him or her. This was ephemeral, she reminded herself. A passing moment he might well forget as soon as he left. Meaningless. It had to be meaningless, because she couldn't return to the life she had lived with Johnny. Not now. Not with a baby.

“Anyway,” he said presently, “don't you have a party to plan? We could talk about that. And about whether to do the front of the house and how much decorating we should do.”

“You want to go to the store?”

His arm tightened a bit around her midsection. “Not today. I don't want to lose one second with you.”

Warmth flooded her, banishing the phantoms of fear that had started to hover nearby again. Take it for what it was. Enjoy the day.

For the first time since the funeral she honestly believed that the future was worth living for. She was alive again, and regardless of what loomed, she didn't want to lose a second with Ryker, either.

Chapter Ten

“G
ood morning.”

She awoke to feel Ryker's breath on her neck, along with a peppering of light kisses. He'd made love to her again during the night, gentle yet explosive love, and she felt cherished to her very soul.

“'Morning,” she said sleepily, stirring happily to his touches. She was tangled in the blankets, and when she tried to turn over to face him, he had to help her. He was smiling.

She felt herself smile in response, felt her heart lift. A surprisingly tender man, one she hadn't thought he could be when she first met him. Ryker had exposed a whole side of himself to her that she would have bet he rarely shared.

“How's the passenger?” he asked.

“She's fine.” A poke answered her, as if the baby was saying good morning, as well.

“I'm still in awe,” he admitted. First he ran his hand over her belly, then swept it down her back, pressing her bottom to bring her closer. “You are irresistible,” he murmured before stealing a long, deep kiss.

When she could breathe again, she asked, “Even with bed head?”

“Especially with bed head.” He flashed her a grin. “Should I make breakfast?”

“I could do it,” she offered.

“I know you could. But I like to feel helpful.”

“What do you call last night?”

That drew a belly laugh from him. He stole another quick kiss, then rolled out of bed in all his naked glory. She lay there smiling into her pillow as he took a quick shower, then headed for the kitchen in jeans and a T-shirt.

Her turn now, she supposed, but she hated to leave the bed just yet. She could still feel his warmth, could still detect his scent and the scent of last night's lovemaking.

She closed her eyes and let Johnny's memory surface. She hoped he wouldn't be upset with her but could no longer imagine why he should be. Julie had been right. He'd been the one who kept leaving. And finally he had left for good.

Sighing, she at last pulled herself up and into the shower. Everywhere she rubbed herself with soap and a washcloth, she found herself remembering Ryker's hands on her.

She realized as she toweled off that he had wedged himself into her life, and that when he left, the sorrow was now inevitable. She'd miss him. But she would survive.

For the first time, she appreciated the fact that while she had withdrawn from life for so long in her grief, she had gotten through the worst of it. She was strong. Selfish in some ways, but strong in the important ways.

Strong enough to be left again. Strong enough to raise her baby. Strong.

* * *

She and Ryker were just finishing breakfast when Julie bounced in through the side door. She grinned at both of them, bringing a blast of frigid air in with her before she shoved the door closed.

“My, don't you two look cozy,” she remarked cheerfully, shedding her scarf and jacket. “How's it going?”

Then she peered at Marisa and shot a sharp look at Ryker.

“My, my,” she said.

Marisa felt her cheeks heat. “Cut it out, Julie.”

“Why?” Julie headed for the coffeepot, filled a mug and came to sit with them. “You look more relaxed than I've seen you in forever. Your face doesn't look pinched.”

Marisa didn't know how to respond to that. All she knew was that she didn't want to discuss with Julie what had happened. It was private, a secret to keep to herself and savor.

“Vast improvement,” Julie went on. “It had better stay that way. So how are you feeling, other than relaxed?”

“I'm fine,” Marisa answered promptly. Better than fine, but there was no point saying anything that would only draw out more questions. “I was thinking of having a party for my friends. I've been so withdrawn, and I think I owe you guys all an apology.”

Julie became instantly diverted. She waved a hand. “You don't owe any apologies. But a party in your state? What kind of party?”

“Something simple.”

Julie flashed another grin. “I could manage it for you.”

Marisa shook her head. “If you throw the party, how am I thanking all my friends for sticking with me? No, I'll just do something simple. Coffee and Christmas cookies. I just want to let everyone know I still love them. They must have wondered.”

Julie reached for her hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “Everyone understood, hon. And what kind of friends would we be if we didn't stick beside you? It'll do us all some good to see you start taking steps out of hibernation. That's all we need.”

She sniffed the air. “Do I smell pine?”

“Ryker put up a Christmas tree.”

Julie turned her attention on him. “For real? A real tree?”

He smiled and nodded.

Julie grinned hugely. “Fantastic! The last few years Marisa didn't even bother to put up that fiber-optic tree of hers. As if it was too much trouble when Johnny wouldn't be home. Now, that was sad.”

Marisa watched something pass between the two of them. What was it? A warning? An understanding?

“Well, this I've got to see,” Julie announced, bouncing up out of her chair and carrying her coffee to the living room.

Marisa looked at Ryker almost apologetically, but he simply smiled and shrugged. Well, if he wasn't disturbed by this intrusion, she certainly wasn't. Julie had a habit of popping in at odd times, and ordinarily Marisa was glad to see her. It was just that this time...this time, what? She wanted to be alone with Ryker? Foolish hope.

They followed Julie into the living room, and Ryker turned on the lights for her.

“Awesome!” was Julie's pronouncement. “And you finally got your blue spruce. I love it!”

“Well,” she said, turning to Marisa, “a gang of over-hyper five-year-olds awaits me. Christmas turns them into demons, I swear. I envy their anticipation and excitement, but controlling it is a job for a whole army.”

She gave Marisa a hug, set her coffee cup in the sink and vanished through the door.

“Is she always such a whirlwind?” Ryker asked, sounding almost bemused.

“No, but sometimes. I think she's worrying about me.”

“She doesn't have anything to worry about,” he said with a firmness that surprised her.

Now what the hell did that mean?

But Ryker had returned to sphinx mode and left her wondering.

* * *

Three days later, Ryker was out in the cold hanging the lights Marisa had agreed to, along with a wreath for the front door. The day was bitter, and he ducked inside often for a cup of coffee and a few minutes to warm up. Marisa was calling her friends, inviting them over for coffee and cookies. As he watched her chat with them, smiling and looking content, he knew he was in trouble.

He needed to start pulling away. She was showing signs of caring for him, like the way she always had hot coffee ready for him when he came inside. Other little things were mounting up, too.

Nobody had ever cared for him this way, and it worried him. But every time he told himself to start forging some space between them, he discovered something that troubled him even more: he couldn't make himself do it.

As he stood on the ladder outside, receiving occasional help and advice from friendly neighbors, he took a long, hard look at himself. He had a weakness, a serious weakness, for Marisa Hayes, and the self-control that had marked his entire adult life vanished the instant he got close to her.

Weakness of any kind was a dangerous thing, for himself and others. He hadn't missed Julie's significant look of warning the other morning. He was determined to heed it but kept failing. Apparently the only way he could separate himself from this woman was to leave, and he refused to do that until after the baby was safely born.

Only then would he feel he'd kept his promise to John.

But as for paying his penance...hell, this all felt too good to be penance. All of it, from standing at the foot of the ladder and talking to the guy next door, to going inside and seeing Marisa's happy face.

He just hoped she wasn't still worried about betraying John. Too bad she'd probably be the one who felt betrayed after he left. Damn, he should never have given in to her, should never have taken her to bed, even though he'd known how his refusal would wound her.

Talk about a rock and a hard place.

He was standing at the foot of the ladder, the job nearly done, when Ray from next door came over for the second time. “It's nice to see Marisa decorating,” he remarked. “Fiona likes it. So, you were Johnny's friend, huh?”

Some friend, thought Ryker. “Yeah.”

“Good of you to come see her through this. I wonder if Johnny would have been here? He almost never was.” Then Ray shook his head. “Not my business, especially not now. Fiona would kill me for mentioning it.”

Fiona would kill him? The thought amused Ryker, since he had gathered that Marisa thought Fiona was a huge gossip.

Just then two kids tumbled out of the house next door, laughing and shrieking. School was out for the day. The holiday vacation began next week, he gathered.

“My call,” said Ray. “Time to take them to the skating rink. See you around.”

Ryker watching Ray round up excited children and pile them into the car. The sight both amused him and appealed to him. Maybe there were some complications in being a father, like kids who wanted to play tag when they needed to be getting into the car.

When the car was gone, Ryker stepped back to survey his handiwork. It looked okay, actually. Spaced well, nothing hanging loose. Pleased, he took the ladder to the detached garage, then went in the side door.

When he entered the kitchen, he knew immediately that something had changed. Shucking his outerwear, he dumped it over the kitchen chair and went hunting. He found Marisa standing in the living room, staring at the tree.

“Marisa?”

She didn't answer immediately. Concerned, he walked up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders.

“What's wrong?” he asked.

“Phone call,” she said in a thick voice.

“What?” An extremely rare sense of panic began to fill him. “Did something bad happen?”

“I don't know. Maybe. Probably not.” She shook herself a little, but he didn't let go of her. “A man from the State Department is coming to see me on Saturday. He has a letter for me.”

Ryker felt gut-punched. He'd gotten it for her, but he hadn't expected it. He knew exactly what she was going to receive, and it didn't offer much information that she didn't already have. When it was over...when it was over, she was going to know the extent of his duplicity.

He cleared his throat. “That's the day of your party. Maybe you should postpone it.”

“I tried to postpone him, but I couldn't.” She turned, facing him. “Is it a letter from Johnny?” she asked, whispering.

“If they had something like that, you'd have gotten it with the rest of his belongings.”

“So, this official?” Her eyes seemed to have sunken, and she wrapped her arms around herself. “More information?”

“I doubt there'll be much.” Just the most damning information of all...for him.

She placed a hand over her mouth, closing her eyes, swaying a bit until he steadied her. “I guess you rattled those bars pretty good,” she said weakly, then pulled away from him and went back to the kitchen.

Standing alone in the living room, he hated himself. She'd wanted to know, he'd believed she deserved to know, but at that point he hadn't considered all the possible ramifications. She was about to be wounded anew, and he might as well pack his bags and head back to the motel. After this she'd never be able to trust him.

But he couldn't leave her alone with this. Time for his atonement. All the lies he lived were about to come back to haunt him. He was going to pay big-time.

But he deserved it. He absolutely deserved it.

When he finally went out to the kitchen again, Marisa was back on the phone, telling all her friends that something had come up and she needed to postpone the party. Promising to reschedule.

But what he heard in her voice was the rending grief he'd heard when he first arrived. The escape from reality was over.

They were both about to revisit hell.

* * *

Marisa felt the change in Ryker from the instant she told him about the call. He knew what was coming, but wasn't about to tell her. Damn these men and their secrets.

Anger bubbled quietly in her as she thought about all the years lost to secrets. All the things that she would never know about her husband, about Ryker. And whatever was coming on Saturday, Ryker clearly felt it could be a problem.

She hated secrets, most especially operational secrets. She half expected that what would come on Saturday was another pile of secrets, this time secrets that
she
would have to keep. God, she hated it. She wanted it over. She wanted the life she had just been starting to rebuild.

Now some guy from State was going to come and destroy it all one way or another. Yes, she wanted to know more about what had happened to Johnny, but she'd begun to make peace with never knowing. Now they were going to sweep that away, and she'd have to start all over again.

She'd begged for this, and Ryker had tried to give it to her, and now she was wishing she hadn't asked and he hadn't tried.

That wasn't fair to him. She knew it. But even as he was keeping his distance, she realized she was doing the same. They went to bed together at night, but no more lovemaking. She accepted him holding her, and yet she couldn't let him any closer than that.

He seemed to feel the same. He didn't even try. She wanted to badger him, hoping for something to prepare her, but she could feel he would offer no answers. None. Maybe he didn't have them. Maybe he was just giving her space because he knew this was going to reawaken her grief.

How could it not?

Saturday dragged toward them on leaden feet. Hours seemed to stretch endlessly. It seemed now that two strangers lived in this house, the way it had been when he'd first arrived. She hated it, but she skirted anything personal as assiduously as he did.