The Right To Remain Mine (29 page)

        "Oh," Brenda said with a small frown. "Well, maybe Raith's his brother then."

        But Willow shook her head again. "No. He didn't have a brother. Just a... a sister." She frowned, suddenly recalling Kathie Becker, Raith's one sister, from the night they met at the musical.

        Before she could question her mother further, Raith walked into the room, decked out in full uniform.

        When he saw Willow's mother, he paused. "Good. You're already here." Both women turned, staring oddly. He paused and said, "What?" as he lifted his hand to his face as if he was checking to see if he had any toilet paper squares on his chin.

        "Wasn't your father Pete Malloy, the deputy?" Brenda asked.

        Caught by surprise, he blinked. "Yeah. Why?"

        "He was the officer killed in the line of duty at a routine traffic stop, right? Over twenty years ago."

        Raith visibly drew back at Brenda's words and nodded. "Twenty-two years ago," he corrected.

        "Then who's Peter junior?" Willow demanded.

        He turned and frowned at her. "I am." When she merely stared at him, he sighed and pointed at the nametag on his uniform. "P. Malloy, Jr.," he read aloud. "Raith's my middle name."

        "Oh, my God." She turned woodenly and stared open-mouthed at her mother. "That was him."

        Brenda looked a little smug. "Told you so."

        Raith glanced between the two women. "What was me?"

        "I met you at your father's funeral," Willow said, looking awed as she stared at him.

        He shifted uncomfortably and couldn't quite meet her gaze. Then he shook his head. "There were a lot of people there. I don't remember—"

        "She made you cry," Brenda offered helpfully, her voice dry.

        Raith shifted his glance toward Brenda and then turned back to Willow. He blinked as his face registered surprise. "You kept asking me why I wasn't crying and then you hugged me when I finally did." He snorted. "God, you were a pain in the ass back then, too."

        Willow could only beam. "You remember?"

        "Yeah. I think that's about the only thing I remember from that day. You smelled like grape bubble gum."

        "Oh, Lord." Brenda groaned. "Willow wouldn't do anything unless you bribed her with a piece of gum. The girl practically lived on the stuff."

        Raith smiled as he glanced at Willow. The two shared a look. When something hot and urgent surged through her, he jerked his gaze away as if he felt her response to him. Clearing his throat, he turned his attention to her mother. "I need to head out. Are you sure she's good with you?"

        Brenda nodded. "She'll be with me the entire day."

        "Great. Make sure she doesn't try to talk you into letting her go somewhere by herself. She can be stubborn, but—"

        Brenda arched her eyebrow. "Boy, are you telling me how to take care of my own daughter?"

        Raith had the grace to flush. "No, ma'am."

        "I know exactly how stubborn she is. I butted heads with her myself about a million times when she was growing up."

        Raith glanced at Willow and quirked a brow. "I'm sure you did." Willow stuck her tongue out, and he rolled his eyes before glancing back toward her mother. "I'm sorry for sounding so—"

        "Well, now, I know just how you can pay me back," Brenda said, not even letting him apologize.

        He inched backward as if he knew he'd just stepped into something dangerous. "And how's that?"

        "You'll escort her to her father's birthday party tonight."

        Willow whirled around. "Mom!" she exploded. "Don't put him on the spot like that. If he doesn't want to go—"

        "I don't mind going," Raith cut in.

        Brenda gave her daughter a smirk. "See? He wants to go."

        Willow frowned. "Only because you twisted his arm. If you hadn't made him feel like he has to—"

        "Oh, honestly, Willow," Brenda said on a sigh. "Officer Malloy doesn't strike me as the type to do anything he doesn't want to do." She turned back toward him. "It'll be a huge event; the entire family's going to be there. But with all the people and commotion, I'd still breathe easier if someone stuck by Willow the entire evening."

        "I don't need a babysitter," Willow groused.

        "No, but it sounds like you need a solid swat on the bottom," her mother retorted. "How dare you try to deny a mother her right to make sure she feels that her only daughter is being protected?"

        "I'll be fine without some bodyguard shadowing me everywhere."

        Brenda quirked a brow and glanced at the bodyguard in question. "Actually, I was thinking we'd call him your date, not your—"

        Raith must've decided it was time to break up the brewing catfight. "Uh... ladies." He stepped between them. "Call me whatever you like, but I'm going to be there. This is the perfect kind of crowded, chaotic event a stalker relishes." He looked at Brenda and firmly stated, "Mrs. DeVane, I'll see you tonight." And then he winked at her. Turning to Willow, he added, "And you—be good." Then he quickly reached out and touched her face. "Take care of that bubble," he added softly before striding out of the house.

        Both Willow and Brenda stopped bickering. In unison, they moved to the window and watched him climb into his police cruiser.

        "Well, I can't say I blame you for sleeping with him," Brenda said.

        Willow lifted her eyebrows. She'd only ever heard her mother talk lovingly of one man, and that was the Honorable Judge Walter DeVane.

        But Brenda met her gaze and shrugged. "He is pretty devastating on the old hormones, isn't he?" Then she giggled like a schoolgirl. "He winked at me."

        Willow threw back her head and laughed. Tossing her arm over her mother's shoulder, she agreed full-heartedly. "Yes, he can definitely run a number on you."

        Since he didn't own a tux, Raith had to borrow one from Willow's brother. He had gone to a rental, but there hadn't been anything on hand to match his size. Chase's suit at least fit in length and at the waist even if it was a bit snug in the shoulders.

        As soon as they stepped through the entrance, they were swamped by people. He realized most of the horde was Willow's family as she introduced him to cousin after cousin.

        "Hey, remember me?" a voice spoke from his left. Raith turned to find a grinning Kit Fletcher, wearing a tux, with a stunning petite blonde perched on his arm. After he introduced his wife, Tina, he picked up a little boy, who was also wearing a mini-tuxedo and held him under the armpits to show him off.

        "And this is one of my boys," he said, only to turn the child to see its face and quickly revise, "No, it's not." He thrust the toddler at Chase. "That one's yours. Where the hell are my kids?" Sending Raith a helpless smile, he shrugged. "There's three of them running around here somewhere."

        "This is Schyler," Willow said, tugging Raith's arm and forcing him to turn back toward the child still wiggling in Chase's arms to be let back down on the ground to run free. Then she motioned toward Schyler's mother. "And you met Allison earlier when she brought Chase's tux over."

        "Hello again," Allison DeVane said with a gracious smile, holding out her hand in welcome. Before he could shake, however, Willow was whirling him away to face yet another couple.

        "This is my cousin, Eric, and his wife, Shay." Raith barely opened his mouth before Willow hauled him off into a different direction. "Aunt Silvie's calling us over. We should say hi."

        "Well, hello there, Malloy." A familiar voice interrupted them.

        Raith pulled to a halt and found himself eye to eye with his boss. The sheriff darted a curious glance from him to Willow—or rather to Willow's hand clasping Raith's arm—and back again. "I wasn't aware you'd be here tonight," he finally said, returning raised eyebrows to Willow.

        "Neither was I," Raith answered honestly. "Not until this morning."

As he spoke, he slipped his gaze around the room and swallowed. Running into his boss at a social function made his skin prickle with unease. Lowly deputies usually attended entirely different get-togethers. But just about every upper crust member of the community was present and accounted for.

        Suddenly, his tux didn't fit right anywhere. He was way out of his league. Next to him, Willow greeted the sheriff and thanked him for coming before something caught her eye across the room.

        "Oh, there's the new baby."

        Raith glanced over to catch the Taggarts approaching the group of cousins Willow had just dragged him away from. She touched his arm. "Excuse me, gentlemen. I'm going to greet my new cousin."

        As she started off, Raith turned to follow but the sheriff caught his sleeve. Raith lifted his face. His boss sent him a knowing grin. "I'd heard rumors about you and the judge's daughter," Ballard murmured. "But I didn't think it could be true, or at least quite this public."

        Body going taunt, Raith casually stuck his hands in his pockets. "Oh? And why's that?"

        The sheriff shrugged. "I guess I just didn't figure you as a social climber."

        Though he hadn't been taking a drink of anything, Raith still choked. "Excuse me?" No way had he heard that right.

        "Don't get me wrong," Ballard lifted his hands in defense. "I applaud your choice. There isn't a better family in this county to attach yourself to if you want to get somewhere. Hell, you could probably unseat me as sheriff the next election if you wanted. I just never imagined you as the type to care about politics."

        "I don't," Raith growled. He took a menacing step toward the sheriff.

        Ballard's eyes widened in alarm. "Raith, hey." The sheriff laughed uneasily and backed up a pace. "I didn't mean to offend you. I'm just saying—"

        "Well, you did," Raith cut in. "And what's worse, I can't understand how you actually believe I could possibly think about politics when I'm in bed with that woman. Have you looked at her?"

        "Malloy, I didn't—"

        "And I don't want your job, sheriff. You couldn't pay me enough to deal with the public like you do. I'm offended you even think I'm capable of—"

        "Raith," a sweet, feminine voice broke into his tirade. Warm, slim fingers wrapped around his arm.

        He turned and blinked down at Willow's cousin. Camille smiled up at him innocently. "Come see my new baby, Raith. You haven't met him yet."

        Taking a step back, he studied the newly-slimmed mother. "Well, hell," he murmured, forced to return a grin. "I guess your water really was broken."

        "Yes, and shame on you for not staying around until the baby was born. Now, come see him before I throw a fit." She paused and glanced at the sheriff. "Please excuse us."

        As they turned away and Camille directed him toward Willow, who was busy cooing down into a swaddled bundle in her arms, Raith felt the woman at his side lean close. "You can thank me later," she said in his ear.

        He glanced at her, wanting to ask what she meant by that, but they'd already reached Willow, and Camille focused her attention on the baby. "Raith," she said, stepping aside to give him a full view of the infant. "Meet my son. William Malloy Taggart."

        Raith jerked to a halt and lifted his face. "Malloy?"

        Willow's cousin beamed at him. "Well, you did help deliver him," she answered innocently.

        "No, I didn't," he sputtered in shock. "I just—"

        "Relax," Dylan said, clapping a hand onto his shoulder. Raith was stunned the man was being so cordial. Sticking with Camille while she was in labor had honestly changed Taggart's perception of him. "She's teasing," he confessed. "His middle name's Matthew."

        Raith immediately wilted with relief. "Oh, thank God."

        Willow laughed; his eyes seared her way. She looked good holding a kid. It was probably sexist of him to think so, but it was true. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes dewy with delight, and her smile radiated pleasure as she stared down at little Will Taggart.

        "You're going to have a girl, right?" he asked, leaning over her shoulder to stare at the tyke as well.

        Lifting her face, she frowned in confusion. "Why do you ask that?"

        He shrugged. "Girls look more like their mothers."

        The color in her cheeks flared as her smile turned almost bashful. Transferring her attention back to the baby, she murmured, "Well, well. Did you hear that, baby Will? Deputy Malloy just paid me a compliment."

        Raith paused and frowned. It struck him he'd never really complimented her, had he? He hadn't told her how beautiful he thought she was, or how much he liked being with her. He'd been about the worst lover a guy could be with the woman he was totally crazy about.

        He opened his mouth, but Brenda DeVane's voice rose above the crowd. "Everyone quiet!" she called, lifting hand. "Walt's coming."

        A hush fell over the room, so Raith closed his trap. Ten seconds later, the door opened and the judge appeared, coming to a surprised halt and blinking at the roar of the crowd as over a hundred people chorused, "Happy Birthday."

        For another two hours, Raith didn't get a moment alone with Willow. They were constantly bumping into familiar faces and mingling. It wasn't something he was used to, but his date was a pro at small talk. He didn't stray far from her, even throughout the meal and the gift opening and the judge's big announcement he was going to retire. Raith lingered at Willow's elbow and every few minutes, she rewarded him with a smile he felt deep in his groin.