Risking It All

Risking It All

JM Stewart

InterMix Books, New York

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. alex1957 is a book theif.

RISKING IT ALL

An InterMix Book / published by arrangement with the author

PUBL
ISHING HISTORY

Previously published as “Staking His Claim” with Wild Rose Press in 2010.

InterMix eBook edition / September 2014

Copyright © 2010 by Joanne Stewart.

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eBook ISBN: 978-0-698-14798-0

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“Kyle, I’m pregnant.”

The smile Kyle Morgan opened his front door with slid from his face. The cheerful greeting he’d worked hard to drum up lodged in his throat. For a moment, he could only stare, stunned, at the woman on the other side of the threshold.

He’d woken in a bad mood this morning. Another blinding headache had grabbed him last night and hadn’t let go. A detective for the Puyallup Police Department, the homicide he and his partner, Marsha, worked on reached another dead end. Four women had died in the span of two days, all left with the same calling card, and they weren’t one step closer to finding their killer. The perp had evaded them every step of the way so far. It made sleeping impossible and had put him in a foul mood.

Namely, because he couldn’t stop thinking about
her
. On the other side of the threshold stood the only woman capable of tying him in a million knots. Cecelia Anton had been his best friend since he was ten. Three years ago, hell, even six months ago, he might have picked up the phone and called her. He might have gotten home from work at two in the morning, but he knew damn well she’d have answered. She’d have known exactly what to say to talk him out of the angry regret and failure wound tight in his stomach. Except the thought of talking to her now left him more conflicted than this damn case.

How did you deal with falling in love with your best friend, knowing you could never have her? He’d been avoiding her. He hadn’t seen her in two weeks, and he hadn’t been able to stop missing her. Or wishing he could go back to a simpler time when her showing up on his doorstep didn’t leave him so conflicted. The mere sight of her through the peephole, and a goofy grin plastered itself across his face, only to sink seconds later as the familiar rush of attraction flooded his body.

Now, there she stood, dripping on his welcome mat. She was drenched from top to bottom. Her light brown locks, normally shiny and bouncing around her chin, now lay plastered to her head, water dripping from the ends. Her arms hung limp at her sides, her hands having gotten lost in the sleeves of the thick white sweater that now drooped on her slender form. Outside, a mid-March storm battered the building, sending gusts of wind howling up the stairwell and blowing past him inside his apartment. By the looks of her, she’d walked over to his apartment in it.

Her eyes caught his. Familiar, round eyes, the color of warmed honey and flecked with gold. Ceci had never been good at hiding her emotions. Everything she felt always showed on her face. Now, her eyes confirmed what he already knew. As much as he wished otherwise, he hadn’t heard wrong. The woman he loved was pregnant with a baby his heart yearned to be his.

The part of him that had protected her since somewhere around third grade told him he was being selfish. This ought to be about her, not him. He was her best friend, and she obviously needed him, but for several moments, he could only stare and remember to breathe. Emotions swamped him faster than he could stop them. An inferno of anger and betrayal ignited his blood. His hands curled into fists at his sides, itching to swing out and put a dent in the wall beside him. She had no idea how much it hurt to hear her say those words. No idea that the mere thought of her with someone else stabbed at his gut like a knife with a jagged blade. Because he could never tell her.

Thunder crashed overhead, shaking the thin walls of his apartment. The lights flickered once, twice, snapping him back to the present.

She needs you, idiot. Snap out of it.

Stepping into his role as her best friend, Kyle drew a deep, calming breath and blew it out, releasing the tangle of emotion caught in his chest. He gathered his wits about him and forced an impassive expression and his body to relax. If he didn’t, he’d say things he’d regret. Like tell her he was in love with her. Or, worse, he’d go find her boyfriend, Jimmy, the schmuck no doubt responsible for the tears in her eyes, and put a little fear into him. Experience told him she wouldn’t be standing on his doorstep soaking wet if Jimmy had been happy about the pregnancy.

Positive he had his wayward emotions under control, he reached across the arm’s-length space between them, took her gently by the shoulders, and pulled her inside.

“Come here.” He drew her to him, and she crumbled, sagging against him, wrapping her arms around his waist as if to hang on for dear life.

“Oh God, Kyle, I don’t know what to do.” She buried her face in his chest and sobbed. Gut-wrenching, shoulder-shaking sobs that slowly shredded his insides.

He tightened his hold on her and rested his cheek against the top of her head, steeling himself against the emotions threatening to choke him. The feel of her in his arms was both too much and not enough. Holding Ceci was like getting his hands on the forbidden fruit. He could see it and touch it, but he could never take a bite or taste its sweetness melting on his tongue. He couldn’t ever let her see how her admission affected him. He could never tell her he’d fallen in love with her. Aside from the fact that he was lying to her, he’d made a promise to a dying old woman to protect her at all costs. Who knew what lasting effects her post-traumatic stress might have on her? Not to mention that sitting in a prison in upstate New York was a man who, once upon a time, had wanted her dead.

Not that knowing those facts, or even reminding himself a million times, ever helped. The feelings rose from a deep well he hadn’t even realized was there until one day he found himself reacting to her the way a man reacts to a woman, rather than just his best friend. Now, knowing she was pregnant with another man’s child made him long for everything he could never have with her. Yet he was grateful simply to have her in his life at all.

Her sobs slowly quieted to the occasional hiccup, and, with a deep, shaky breath, she lifted her head and pulled out of his embrace. She sniffled and laid a hand against the wet spot now covering the center of his chest. “I’m sorry. I got you all wet.”

“It’s okay. I can change.” He cupped her face in his palms, wiped the tears from her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, and offered her a gentle smile. “How ’bout we go dry you off, hmm? Then you can tell me what happened.”

She nodded, and he slipped his hand into hers, threading their fingers. Hers were ice-cold. He led her down the short hallway toward the back of his apartment. Ceci lived only a ten-minute walk from here, but they were knee-deep in the rainy season. Washington’s west coast was well-known for its constant cloud cover and excessive rainfall. For them, fall, winter, and spring rolled into one long season, and they were in the middle of it.

That she’d walked to him in the pouring rain told him more than words could that she needed him as her best friend. Whatever he felt for her would be squelched and shoved back into the box in his chest where it belonged.

When they reached the bathroom, he released her hand. After fetching a clean bath towel, he crossed into his bedroom and pulled a set of clean, dry clothing from his dresser. When he rejoined her in the hallway, she was staring down at her hands, splayed across her flat stomach.

“What am I going to do?” Confusion and the heaviness of her predicament etched her features, seeming to weigh on her.

“First thing you’re going to do”—he moved to stand in front of her and lifted her chin with two fingers, offering a smile—“is change.”

“Thanks.” She accepted the clothing and returned a watery smile but didn’t move.

The need to see a genuine smile hit him hard and fast. He’d never been able to stand seeing the women he cared about cry, Ceci especially. Tears in her eyes left him helpless and brought out a strong protective urge. He’d always known he’d do whatever he had to in order to lighten her load. The same need hit him now.

“They’ll be big on you, I’m sure.” He flashed a teasing grin and darted an obvious glance at her waist. “The sweats have a drawstring that should keep them from falling off those little hips of yours.”

It was a stupid thing to say to her, really, but it had the desired effect. The soft laugh she let out was music to his ears, and the glimmer that flitted through the depths of her eyes made his chest swell in triumph. Now that was more like it.

“They won’t be little for long.” She glanced at herself and shook her head before moving around him and into his bedroom.

When the door clicked shut, he let out a heavy sigh and sagged back against the wall. He squeezed his eyes closed, conjuring the facts from the latest homicide case he and Marsha worked. Anything to keep from picturing Ceci undressing in his bedroom. The thoughts alone made his chest ache and had guilt rising over him. She hadn’t come here for him to ogle her. She’d come because she needed him. As her friend.

The wicked images came anyway, taunting his mind with what he couldn’t have. To be the one to peel away her wet clothing. To feel her bare, slender curves beneath him, her silky skin sliding against his.

Damn. He’d first realized his feelings for her changed three years ago, just before her grandmother’s death. Ceci had asked for help digging up information on her parents. Unfortunately, he hadn’t discovered what he’d expected to. Instead of adoptions records, he’d uncovered a nightmare, one that had put the puzzle pieces together very clearly in his mind. The bad dreams Ceci had suffered from for years weren’t the mere workings of an overactive imagination. She’d witnessed her parents’ murder. The police had put her and her grandmother into Witness Protection. Ceci wasn’t Ceci at all, but a little girl with a new name and no conscious memory of her previous identity.

Not knowing what to do with the information, he’d gone to her grandmother first. Surely there was a reason Ceci didn’t remember? Or had no idea?

The funny part was, her gran was the one to point out his feelings for Ceci had changed when she begged him to keep the information to himself. Her quiet words replayed through his mind.
If you love her, Kyle, and I know you do—I’ve seen the way you look at her—please, you have to do this for me. If he gets to her . . .
The fear in her pale blue eyes had convinced him.

He hadn’t been able to look at Ceci the same since. He’d hoped if he simply didn’t acknowledge the erroneous feelings, they’d go away. Six months ago, though, she’d started dating Jimmy. Their relationship made Kyle nuts. The guy had player written all over him, and he tended to talk down to her. More than a few times Kyle had walked away for fear of decking the asshole. His instantaneous reactions to the guy had caused more than a few arguments between him and Ceci.

It had taken him months to see the emotions for what they were—jealousy. Jimmy made him see red because he had everything Kyle coveted, yet he treated her like she was nothing special. He couldn’t count on both hands the number of times he’d thought,
If she were my girl. . . .

Six months ago, he’d finally decided he had to put some distance between him and Ceci or risk ruining their friendship and going against the promise he’d made to her grandmother. He’d either go crazy or she’d end up hating him. The problem was, doing so was easier said than done. They’d seen each other several times a week for years. They spoke daily, usually in between shifts, sometimes even at two in the morning. When he had a bad night, he called her. When she had news to share, she called him. Now, he was lucky if he spoke to her once a week. Sometimes the only time he saw or spoke to her was at family dinner on Sundays.

He hated it, but he did it for his sanity’s sake, to keep those lines firmly in place. He could never allow himself to contemplate a romance with Ceci knowing he kept secrets from her, that he essentially lied to her. They’d always promised each other honesty.

One look at the vulnerability in her eyes, though, and six months of hard work came undone. Now it was as if nothing had changed. He was caught between acting like the friend she needed and the “more” his poor, misguided heart yearned to be. Regret tightened in his chest at the thought. He was also entirely too aware he shouldn’t be thinking about any of this. He ought to be focusing on her needs. One look at her tears and all he could think about was how much he yearned to take her in his arms and make her forget about Jimmy. God, he was such an ass.

The bedroom door opened, jarring him from his tangled thoughts, and he turned his head. Ceci stood awkwardly in the bedroom doorway, wearing his clothing, and for a moment, the sight of her caught him. At five foot ten, she stood taller than most women he knew. Feminine curves replaced the boyish figure he remembered from their childhood. Curves that looked mind-blowing in whatever she wore. His sweats hung on her slender form, swamping her lean legs, and the soft cotton T-shirt hung past her rump, but if you asked him, she looked incredible.

She also looked nervous. As she caught his gaze, she flashed a tight, forced smile but remained rooted to the spot, her back a little too stiff, her eyes shifty and edgy.

“Thank you.” Her hands slid up and down her arms, as if it was a soothing gesture.

Tension mounted in the air like a wall slowly erecting between them. When she dropped her gaze to the floor and her fingers slipped up into her hair to toy with the ends, bells sounded in his head. She
was
nervous. Why on earth would she be nervous around him?

Determined to set her at ease, he tossed her a smile and pushed away from the wall. “Feel better?”

“Much. I’m not so cold anymore. I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “I didn’t mean to come here and dump all this on you. I started walking—”

“In the pouring rain, no less.”

She pursed her lips, regret written in her eyes, as she finally stepped out into the hallway. She halted in front of him, that look of confusion moving over her features again. “You opened the door and everything kind of exploded. I needed you. You always make me feel better.”

In her soft gaze, the answer to his quandary hit him, and his chest tightened. It seemed he’d succeeded after all in putting some distance between them. A little too well. Ceci sensed it, reacted to it, and was actually uncomfortable in his presence.