The Right To Remain Mine (23 page)

        Willow DeVane had kicked him out, and he wasn't setting foot back inside her house until she gave him a golden invitation. Oh, but he wanted in. He wanted to check her back door, see if she'd left it unlocked for him. He wanted to slip into bed beside her and hold her through the rest of the night.

        He stayed away, though, no matter how much it killed him.

        A knock on his office door had him jerking his gaze up. His cheeks went hot. Hoping his visitor hadn't caught him dazing off, he waved the man in. The process server, Lewis, stepped through Raith's already-opened office entrance and paused just inside. "Guess who I just got a warrant of arrest for?

        Raith quirked a brow. "Who's that?"

        "Max Kettle."

        "What?" Raith blinked in surprise. "He's out of jail already?"

        Lewis nodded. "He's been out a few months. And he's already had time to break his parole and disappear off the grid without checking in."

        Raith shook his head and snorted. "Why am I not surprised?"

        "Man, I still remember when you arrested him after that drug bust," Lewis spoke in awed reverence. "I have never seen anyone hate the way that guy hated you. I was so sure he'd come after you as soon as he got out of prison."

        Raith grinned and fell back in his seat to rock the chair. "Guess he wasn't as hot and bothered to pay me back as he thought he was, huh?"

        If it'd been months since he got out, then it was more than likely the guy wasn't going to try anything against him now.

        "Guess not," Lewis said even as his attention was drawn out into the main part of the station. "Damn," he murmured, successfully distracted. "That lawyer lady sure is hot, isn't she?"

        Raith glanced up. He had one of those offices with the glass walls, so when he lifted his face, he saw Willow DeVane in the main part, talking to a desk clerk.

        Swallowing, he wiped at the sweat that popped out on his brow. Shit, was it time to hear the news already? It could only mean one thing if she was here in person to tell him. She would've just called, or not even bothered to update him if it was merely a false alarm.

        "She knows my name, you know," Lewis cooed in delight.

        Raith wouldn't have been surprised at all to see little hearts circling the deputy's head. Lewis glanced his way and touched his own shoulder. "She touched me right here. Did you see when she did that at the courthouse the other day? It made my whole arm tingle. I thought I was going to have a heart attack."

        Raith snorted. "You're such a loser."

        "What?" Lewis said defensively as he glared at Raith. "I bet you're just jealous because she doesn't even know who you are."

        "What makes you think she doesn't know—"

        "Raith?" a cool, feminine voice said from the doorway.

        Lewis spun around and Raith would've busted a gut laughing at the startled expression on the kid's face if he hadn't been so busy ogling her himself. Instantly, the sweat on his forehead trickled down his temple.

        She'd said his first name.

        He couldn't remember her ever saying his given name after the night she learned it. But the very sound of his name coming from her lips did him in. Keeping his casual pose as if he didn't want to surge to his feet and eat her whole, he remained slumped back comfortably in his chair. All the while, his fingers clamped around the armrests and his guts knotted painfully.

        "Come on in," he said in a voice that meant he'd rather she didn't.

        Willow gave the other deputy an engaging smile and murmured in a husky tone, "Morning, Lewis. Keeping Officer Malloy here in line?"

        Lewis swallowed loudly and could only manage a jerky nod.

        Willow's grin cooled a few degrees when she transferred her gaze to Raith. She didn't say anything and didn't move toward a chair to sit but held his stare for a good two seconds. Then she glanced away and scoped out his office with a curious glance.

        "I guess Lieutenant's a pretty high position after all. You have your own office."

        Raith didn't think he could take much more of this polite conversation so he sent a pointed look toward Lewis, who didn't look like he was going to step away from her any time this millennium.

        "Shut the door on your way out, will you, Lewis?"

        The clueless moron finally realized he was being dismissed. "Oh!" He pulled his eyes away from Willow. "Sure, sure." He stumbled backward toward the exit. "Bye, Miss DeVane."

        Willow only irritated Raith more by waving and smiling again. "Goodbye, Lewis."

        He sighed and got to his feet, which made Lewis send him an anxious look and quickly shut the door between them. As soon as he was left alone with his intoxicating femme fatale, however, he wished he could've escaped with his friend. Shoving his suddenly clammy hands into his pockets, he came around to her side of the desk and leaned against it.

        She still wouldn't sit and wouldn't keep his gaze.

        He blew out a breath. "So, when is this thing due?"

        Willow lifted her face, slayed him with her solemn gaze, and calmly answered, "November."

        Raith felt a little dizzy. He took his hands from his pockets and latched them around the edge of the desk to keep from falling.

        It was true then. He was going to have a kid. He was going to be a father.

        He thought of his own father. He'd been seventeen when Peter Malloy died. Raith remembered him as the greatest man who'd ever lived, the way any dad should be remembered. But he couldn't picture himself being great to any child.

        He could never be a Pete Malloy.

        "You've already seen a doctor?" he asked, trying to ignore the crazy disconnection from reality that swirled through him.

        "No," Willow answered. "My appointment isn't for another month, but I took a home test last week."

        Last week? She'd known for an entire week and hadn't told him?

        Irrationally hurt, Raith licked his lips. "But you're sure?" He was amazed they could talk about this so logically.

        Willow nodded.

        He hissed out a curse. "Just don't rape me on child support, okay?" After running both hands through his hair, he closed his eyes. "My alimony payment takes up enough of my salary as it is."

        Willow lifted her eyebrows. "Oh, you don't have to pay a cent."

        He whipped up his face and pinned her with a questioning look.

        She shrugged. "My father's a judge. I'm a lawyer. Do you think I need your money?"

        Raith glanced away, a little ashamed he had nothing compared to her family. Nothing worth giving. "I've got to do something."

        "I could give you fifty lashes a night if you like," she offered snidely.

        Raith glared. "I'm serious. Just because you're richer than Croesus doesn't mean I should be off the hook."

        "Well, what do you want to do?" she snapped. "You can be on the hook as much as you can handle, Malloy. I'm certainly not going to hold my child back from its father if you really want some quality daddy time. But for all I care, you can send a birthday card once a year and let that be enough."

        She paused from her tirade to blow out a calming breath. Then she asked, "Just how much involvement do you want?"

        He felt suddenly lost. "I don't know," he admitted in a hoarse voice. He couldn't tell her he wanted it all. He couldn't tell her he'd like to be a full-time father, which meant marrying his baby's momma. He wanted to be there when the kid was born. He wanted to watch it take its first step and hear it say its first word. He wanted everything. But, damn it, he could never get Willow DeVane to marry him.

        She sighed as if exhausted, making him study her face for fatigue lines. He felt like crap when he actually found a few creases bracketing her eyes and mouth. God. He just wanted to pull her into a hug and reassure them both.

        "Well, when you know what you want, why don't you let me know. Until then, I plan on raising this kid like any other single mother."

        She spun away to stalk out the door.

        "Wait," he said.

        She stopped but didn't turn. He opened his mouth to spill all. But when she glanced over her shoulder and her brown eyes caught his, he chickened out.

        "Uh, let me give you my phone number and address," he said and scurried to find his business card. "I want to know if anything happens."

        Coming around slowly, she sent him a look to kill. "Like what, if I miscarry, you want to know if you're off the hook?"

        Raith sent her a dirty look. "Anything could happen," he said, scrawling his information on a piece of paper when he couldn't find a stray card.

        He held it out to her, and she stared at it oddly for a moment. When she glanced up at him, he frowned. "What?"

        She shook her head as if distracted. "It's odd," she murmured. "So much has happened between us and yet this is the very first time I'm seeing your phone number."

        Guilt swamped him. Willow slipped the piece of paper from his fingers. And that was the closest contact they'd made in two solid weeks.

        "I can always be reached on my cell phone."

        She nodded once, then turned and was gone, slipping out the door like some kind of phantom. Raith fell into his chair and went back to staring at the computer, where a Roadrunner screensaver had popped up. But holy hell. What was he supposed to do now?

        As the next couple of days dragged on, Willow started to feel pregnant. Her feet began to hurt, she was tired all the time and that whole morning sickness thing kicked in.

        It sucked.

        Since her father's birthday was as planned as it could get, she no longer had an excuse to go to Chase's in the evenings and was forced to return to a lonely, quiet house each night.

        She visited her brother once, though, to tell him and his wife the big news. With Camille and Dylan knowing about her baby, she knew she had to inform the rest of the family soon or they would find out one way or another.

        She'd gone to her parents first and then stopped by Chase's the next night, glad she'd waited to spread the news on two different days because it'd been stressful enough to look into her father's eyes and confess she was going to have a baby... without the assistance of a man in her life. Besides, Chase already knew about it by the time she gave him the news, which saved her from having to say it aloud too many times. Then again, it'd given him an extra day to think what he wanted to say to her, which hadn't been pleasant.

        She worked late on Monday and didn't get home until well after dark. She'd stayed overtime with a woman who'd stopped by the office to cry on her shoulder because her ex-husband just might get full custody of their children since he made more money.

        As Willow tried to cheer her client, she kept thinking she should be grateful Malloy had left at the first sign of a baby. Now, she wouldn't have to worry about a nasty custody battle or working out any form of child support. But the grateful feeling never came. All she felt was lost and alone.

        Shoving her heels off as soon as she stepped inside the front door, Willow sighed and sank her throbbing toes into her plush carpet. She was going to have to resort to regular pumps before too long because heels no longer worked for her. Not very hungry, but knowing she had to eat something, she trudged sluggishly toward the back of the house.

        As she entered the hall, however, she realized her kitchen was already occupied. The light from the living room spotlighted a human silhouette, letting her see shape and movement. Heart kicking into gear at the thought it might be Malloy, she stepped up her pace. Reality intruded though. There was no way Malloy would visit. He was gone.

        Thinking it probably a family member then, she teasingly called out, "Hey! What're you doing in my kitchen?"

        The guy—she could tell he was male by his shape—spun her way. The outline he made had her pausing; longish hair, thinner shoulders, short frame, he didn't match any member of her family

        Suddenly, she realized how strange the situation was. The light was off in the kitchen. Why wouldn't whoever-this-was have turned on a light? Besides, her guest was standing there for too long without calling out a hello or revealing his identity.

        The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, but she moved toward him, telling herself it had to be someone she knew, probably trying to scare her. As soon as she turned on the light, he'd laugh and say, "Boo. Did I spook you?"

        When she picked up her pace, however, he whirled away and took off in the opposite direction. He slipped out the back door and pulled it shut at the same moment she flipped on the light. A shiver overtook her when she realized he hadn't been a family member or a friend.

        Someone—someone she didn't know—had just been inside her home.

~ * ~

        In the middle of giving some hotrod teenager a speeding ticket, Raith grumbled when his cell phone rang. Glancing at the pimply-faced kid who trembled as he tore his wallet apart, looking for proof of insurance he swore he had, Raith dug his phone from his belt and checked the number. He didn't recognize it, but answered anyway.

        "Malloy."

        "R-Raith?" a woman said, sounding wobbly and from a great distance away.

        "Yeah?" he answered, frowning when he couldn't identify the hoarse voice. "Who's this?"