Almost a Family (8 page)

The crowd applauded loudly, but began to fire questions before the noise even died down.

"Ms. Catron," an older, pleasant-faced woman asked, "how does your son look to you?"

Virginia smiled. "He looks very much like his father."

"Handsome?" the woman pressed, her eyes twinkling.

"Well, um... of course." Her face burned and she heard Bailey's low chuckle beside her.

"How is your son taking the news?" another woman asked.

She hesitated. "He's confused, naturally, and as surprised as we are, but I'm sure things will work out fine."
Liar,
her mind nagged.

"Ms. Catron," a man near her asked, "I assume from your name that the two of you are no longer married?"

"That's correct," she said calmly. A disappointed murmur resounded.

"Have you both remarried?"

"No, neither of us," Bailey piped in helpfully.

"Are you planning to get back together?"

The crowd tittered, and every reporter waited, straining forward for a juicy tidbit of gossip. She felt Bailey's arm tighten and she tingled with humiliation.
There could be an us,
he'd said, as if now that their son had been found, things were right with the world again. He'd never turned his back on her, never broken her heart.

One woman grew bolder following Virginia's hesitation. "How about it, any chance of you two getting back together?"

"No," Virginia said with confidence.

"Anything is possible," Bailey said at the same time.

Chapter 5

Bailey scanned the small, sparsely furnished room, eyeing the disappointing distance between the neatly made twin beds in opposite corners. A floor lamp situated behind mismatched armchairs in the center of the room cast harsh light to the perimeter. The air hung stale and prickly hot. A vase of wilting cut flowers sat on a round coffee table between the chairs. Plain navy curtains hung at the single half-window above an ancient television with a rabbit ear antenna.

"Looks cozy," he said cheerfully, crossing the faded green carpet and dropping his garment bag on one of the chairs. "Reminds me of when we lived in the old homeplace, Ginny." He spun and caught the flash of panic on her face, then told himself to slow down. She'd barely uttered ten words since his spontaneous public announcement that he wouldn't mind them getting back together. He laughed to ease the tension, then said, "Of course, Rita has done such a great job with the place, you wouldn't recognize it."

She walked over and claimed a bed with her lone piece of luggage. "It wasn't all that bad before," she said, her gaze darting around the room.

"Hey." He spoke softly. When she looked at him, he continued. "Are you okay with this? I can go to the hotel."

"No," she said hastily. "I mean, yes, I'm okay with it." She laughed nervously, tugging on the zipper of her bag. "We're adults, Bailey, not teenagers hopped up on hormones."

"You're right." Bailey carefully kept his voice light. "After all, what's one night? We've spent hundreds of nights together."

With a final jerk the zipper on her bag gave way. "And thousands more apart," she reminded him.

Properly chastised, he cracked his knuckles. "Well, what do you think of our son?"

Pausing, she pursed her lips, looking thoughtful. "He was different from what I expected, but I'm not even sure what I expected."

"He seems like an okay kid, but I think he's got a bit too much spunk for his own good."

She smiled tightly. "You know what they say about the apple not falling far from the tree." She pulled out a handful of toiletries and headed for the bathroom, visible through a narrow door next to her bed. Nudging the door open with her elbow, she then arranged shampoo and toothpaste on the tiny vanity in the vintage room.

Anticipation stabbed him as she bent to fuss with the water faucet of the avocado-green bathtub. Her dress rode up to reveal her thighs. As she swished her fingers under the spray of water to find the right temperature, Bailey felt himself begin to harden at the tantalizing outline of her legs. It suddenly became apparent that the next eight or so hours might be excruciatingly long and painful.

"No shower," she announced when she emerged, drying her hands on the towel. "Would you mind if I went first in the tub?"

"No." He jammed his hands in his pockets. "Go right ahead."

She rummaged in her bag, presumably for sleepwear, and Bailey found himself unable to look away. Ginny used to sleep in a pair of his boxers topped with any of several sexy camisoles. He swallowed hard. Whose boxers might she be wearing these days? He hadn't thought past her not being married, but now it seemed likely that a woman with her beauty and success would be involved with someone.

"Ginny."

She raised her face, eyebrows lifted. "Yes?"

"Are you, um, seeing anyone?"

Her brow furrowed. "Romantically?"

He rolled his shoulders awkwardly. "Uh, yeah."

"Not at the moment." She went back to rummaging, then gave up, lifted the bag by the handles, and headed toward the bathroom.

"Ginny?"

With one hand on the knob, she stopped and turned.

"Aren't you going to ask me if I'm seeing anyone?"

She adopted a wry expression. "I don't have to ask, Bailey. Last night at the saloon I saw almost as much of her as you've undoubtedly seen."

She turned and entered the bathroom, closing the door with a firm
clunk.

Frustration propelled him to the bathroom door. "I'm not seeing her," he said loud enough to penetrate the wood. "Lisa's just a... an acquaintance."

The faucets were shut off, followed by the sound of light splashing, as if she were testing the water.

"Are you jealous?" he asked hopefully.

After a few seconds of silence he heard her walk back to the door. He held his breath in anticipation. Was she going to invite him in?

The distinct
click
of the lock sounded.

Bailey swore softly under his breath, but he remained at the door, riveted by the sounds of Ginny removing her clothes, then sliding into the water. Only supreme restraint kept him from kneeling to find a keyhole. He closed his eyes and pictured her naked skin, slick and glistening. A full minute passed, his desire for her swelling, literally, as he listened to her move around in the water. He opened his mouth to say something, anything.

"Go away, Bailey," she said.

Damn.
He turned from the door and retreated to his bed, then removed his shirt and kicked off his boots before dropping onto the lumpy mattress. The day's events swirled in his head, culminating in a knot of pain over his left eye. Less than forty-eight hours earlier he'd been a happy-go-lucky bachelor, surrounded by laughing friends and willing women. Now he was father to a too-wise eight-year-old, and trying to patch things up with an ex-wife who barely tolerated him.

And who just happened to be bathing in the next room.

Bailey groaned, massaging his aching temple. Running his tongue over his dry teeth, he acknowledged how welcome the taste of whiskey would be to his throat. The tasks before him suddenly seemed overwhelming, and he wondered how most men dealt with the crushing weight of family responsibility. His own father had mostly ignored his wife and children unless they disobeyed. His boss had a running string of complaints about his ungrateful, spoiled children and wife. The attitudes of most of the married men who worked for him typically ranged from begrudging loyalty to downright resentment.

Then there was Jerry, his brother-in-law, the one man he knew who seemed eager to go home to his wife and child, content to watch television on the weekends rather than shoot pool and down a cold one at a bar with Bailey. What was it between Jerry and Rita, Bailey had often wondered, that was strong enough to keep Jerry coming home every night with a smile on his face?

Since his divorce, Bailey had experienced a couple of near misses at the justice of the peace, but he'd always come to his senses at the last minute. He frowned, eyes closed. Although he'd loved Ginny, he remembered feeling trapped during their brief marriage. Even now he wanted her so much his body hurt, but he couldn't be sure it would translate to long-term commitment. And despite his promise to her on the plane, he worried if he'd ever settle down long enough to become a permanent fixture in anyone's life, even his son's. Although he knew in his heart the best thing for Chad would be to rebuild a lasting relationship with Ginny, he still had doubts about his ability to live up to his end of the bargain. And Ginny had made no secret of her opinion on the matter.

When the bathroom door opened, he sat up. Ginny floated into the room on a cloud of fruity fragrance, wrapped in a satiny knee-length robe, her dark gold hair shimmering damp and loose on her shoulders. Her legs were long and lightly tanned, her feet slender and shapely. The troubling thoughts behind his headache dissolved. His heart thudded against his chest wall at the overpowering impact she had on his senses.

"It's all yours," she announced as she folded her clothes and stacked them in a neat pile on her bed.

"It used to be all mine," he said softly, meeting her gaze when she lifted her head. He rose to his feet and took a few seconds to absorb her, to memorize her all over again. Every muscle tensed, tingling with anticipation. Instinct spurred him. He took one tentative step toward her, then another. As he neared her, she inched backward, but the awareness and desire in her eyes kept him moving forward. She came up short when the bed prevented her from going any farther. He stopped, leaving mere inches between their bodies.

Moisture glistened where the deep vee in her robe revealed the base of her throat. The locket he'd given her nestled in her cleavage. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. Her caramel eyes shone, her pink lips parted slightly. Her cheeks glowed from the effects of the bath. Bailey studied her face, looking for a sign to stop, praying for a sign to continue.

He lowered his mouth to hers carefully, poised to retreat at the slightest resistance. But as his lips touched hers, her mouth came alive, and the realization fired his arousal. The kiss deepened as she opened her mouth to allow him full entry. With a groan he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her damp body to his. Familiarity cloaked him as her curves melded against him, as she nipped at his tongue and ran her nails lightly across his naked back.

With controlled urgency he slipped his hands down and underneath her robe, his breath catching at the feel of her muscles clenching as she strained to meet him. His fingers found the waistband of scant panties, then slid inside to knead her bare bottom, sliding her up and against his hard arousal. She lifted her mouth to gasp, rolling her neck and shoulders.

He fumbled with the tie of her robe as she pulled at his belt buckle. Within seconds the robe was discarded, revealing a peach-colored camisole and matching undies. Her nipples were straining at the sheer lace. He ached to touch them, to taste them, but stopped long enough to shed his jeans.

When he came back to her, though, a slight frown marred her smooth complexion. Her eyes were worried. "I'm not sure this is right, Bailey."

Panic gripped him. He was so close to reminding her—reminding himself—how good things could be between them. He folded her into his arms. "Ginny," he whispered, his heart hammering, "I want my family back."

At his words Virginia stiffened. A sensation akin to shame washed over her. Bailey didn't want her, he wanted a tie with the mother of his child. A guarantee he could always have access to his son. From the beginning she'd been part of a package deal. What had Chad said? No kid, no marriage? Out of the mouths of babes.

She straightened her arms and pushed against his bare chest. Bailey stepped back, confusion evident on his face. "What did I say?"

"The truth—this has more to do with you wanting to be with your son than wanting to be with me," she murmured, fighting to control her breathing. He shook his head and reached for her again, but she held up her arm to stop him. She yanked up her robe from where it had fallen on the carpet and gathered it around her, tying it securely with a double knot.

"Leave Chad out of this, Ginny. You're not that good an actress—you wanted me as much as I wanted you."

She turned her back and bit her bottom lip hard as she straightened her folded clothes again. "You're wrong, Bailey."
More... I wanted you more than you wanted me. Always have, always will.
"On the plane you promised our relationship would be strictly platonic, and I expect you to keep your word." She crossed her arms over her breasts. "I think you'd better take your bath now."

He grunted in frustration, then strode to the bathroom. When the door closed, Virginia sagged onto the bed, hugging herself hard. How could she be so stupid? Having Chad meant having to see Bailey regularly. It was going to be hard enough on her without adding casual sex to the equation.

She hurriedly cleared her bed, turned off the lamp, and climbed in, intending to be fast asleep when he emerged. But adrenaline was still pumping through her body when he opened the bathroom door. Unable to resist, she watched him move by her bed and across the room in the shadows.