Keeping Katie (A Mother's Heart #1) (18 page)

It took a while for the world to stop spinning, but even then Maureen kept reality at bay. She’d promised herself this night, and she wanted all of it. She would lie here with Alan and pretend that this was just the beginning.

Snuggling closer against him, she let herself think how right it felt to be here. His warm, masculine body would be her haven against the world. When things got rough, he would be there with his unique strength to fend for her and her daughter. She would no longer have to be the strong one. And what a father he would be to Katie. Strong, loving, but firm. The perfect father. The perfect husband.

The idea hit her hard, and she yanked herself back to the real world. Fantasizing wasn’t her style. There was no future for her and Alan. Lying here dreaming about it was pointless at best. The entire day had been laced with fantasy, but she couldn’t allow herself to pretend any longer. In the end, she would only suffer more for it.

Yet, everything she’d learned about Alan—from his feelings for Rita to his way with Katie—revealed a man who wanted a family. Pulling away from him, she raised herself on one elbow. “How come you don’t have a wife?”

Alan turned and smiled, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Are you applying for the job?”

“No.” The word carne out quickly, before his teasing tone of voice registered. Then she returned his smile, realizing that she must have sounded forward. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Sure you did.” Sliding his arm around her shoulders, he pulled her head back down to rest on his chest. “But I don’t mind. And the truth of the matter is that I’ve just never met the right woman.”

Though still curious, she hesitated to say anything more. She was reluctant to break the wall of silence she’d built around herself. Since the night she’d left Miami, she’d kept her distance from others—not learning too much about them, not giving away too much of herself. Her curiosity won out. “That’s a pretty unoriginal answer,” she said.

She felt his low chuckle against her cheek. “But a true one.”

Maureen sighed and settled closer to him. Thoughts of keeping her distance dimmed, while contentment clashed with her need to maintain a grip on reality. “There must have been someone.”

“Not since I came back to Wyattville.”

“How come?”

Alan adjusted his arm and rested a hand on her head, stroking her hair. “I’m not sure. Maybe as you suggested that first night, I’ve known all the women in this town my entire life. Who knows?” He shrugged and dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head. “Maybe I just developed a liking for city girls.”

Maureen laughed lightly. “But not enough to go back to the city yourself.”

“That’s right.”

Silence fell softly between them. His fingers worked magic in her hair, gently caressing her scalp, making her wish he’d never stop. It felt good to be here with him.

“What about before you went away to school?” Maureen asked, breaking the silence. “Was there someone special then?”

“Are you sure you’re not applying for the job?”

Maureen pulled away and started to deny it once again, but stopped when she saw the smile on his face. He was teasing her. And again, she had taken him too seriously. “You could just tell me if I’m getting too nosy, you know.”

“I was born and raised in a small town. I’m used to nosy.” Grinning, he ran a lazy gaze down the length of her, reminding her of the route his hands had wandered earlier. “Other things I’m not so used to.”

A flush of heat branded her cheeks, and Maureen quickly covered herself with an afghan that lay across the bed. Alan laughed and reached out to her, brushing his knuckles against her breast, inches above where she held the blanket.

“You can hide under that blanket if you want, but I’ve got a great memory.” Then, as if he hadn’t just sidetracked the conversation with his suggestive eyes and talk of hiding under blankets, he added, “Besides, you’re not asking anything that everyone else in town doesn’t already know.”

A wave of disappointment washed over Maureen that he’d returned to their previous topic. With a simple look and the touch of his fingers, he made her want to forget talking altogether. Trying to hide her errant emotions, she settled back down on his shoulder.

“Lynn and I dated all through high school,” Alan continued, seemingly unaware of the turmoil he’d created. “Everyone figured we’d end up together. I guess I pretty much figured that way, too.”

“So what happened?”

“By the time I got back, things weren’t the same. For either of us. We went out a time or two, but it just wasn’t right.”

She thought of the easy camaraderie between him and Lynn and wondered if she could ever feel that comfortable with him. She doubted it. Even if all the other problems somehow went away, if by some miracle there was no longer anything to keep them apart, she could never be at ease with him. She would never be able to look at him and not feel this stirring, this burning need to have him.

Alan lifted a hand to stroke her hair. “Maureen, I want you to know that something special happened between us tonight.”

She stiffened in his arms, knowing he spoke the truth, but also knowing her secrets would destroy whatever he felt for her.

Tonight had changed nothing.

She was the same woman, guilty of the same crimes she’d been guilty of yesterday. And he was the same man. They were different, and only she realized how explosive those differences were. She never doubted for a moment that he would condemn her for the things she’d done.

Alan shifted to look at her, searching her face for the words she hadn’t spoken. He’d felt her withdrawal, and a thread of fear tightened in his gut. He wanted to know what her eyes said. When he did, it surprised him. Sadness. Did she think he’d toss her aside now that he had gotten her into his bed?

“Maureen,” he said aloud, dropping his hand to stroke her cheek. “Tonight was the beginning. Not the end.”

She closed her eyes, but not before he saw the faint shimmer of tears. The fear in his gut sharpened, but his need to comfort stirred stronger, and he pulled her closer. Whatever she was afraid of, whatever ghosts haunted her, he would drive them away. “It’s okay.” She shook her head, denying his words while tears dampened his chest. But Alan wasn’t ready to give up. “I was beginning to believe I’d never feel this way about someone,” he said, more to himself than her. “We can make this work.”

For a few minutes, he thought he’d convinced her. She lay quietly in his arms, and he persuaded himself that she had once again relaxed. Then she moved away, and he knew he’d been fooling himself. She rolled over to the other side of the bed, dragging the afghan to cover herself as she sat up, her back turned toward him.

When she spoke, her voice was thick and shaky. “You’re wrong, Alan. We can’t make this work.”

He wanted to go to her, to climb out of bed and make her face him. But his experience with this woman told him to stay put. With an effort, he shoved aside the fear eating at his insides and the pain threatening to render his voice unrecognizable. “Maybe not.” He took a deep breath and raised his hands to rest under his head. “But we won’t know until we try.”

She turned to look at him, and he nearly lost his carefully constructed composure. Her eyes were red-rimmed and haunted. “It’s too soon,” she said.

“Liar.” The word escaped before he could stop it, and anger flared in her eyes. He liked it better than the pain.

“I told you I wasn’t interested in a relationship. And I meant it. Tonight has changed nothing.”

“The hell it hasn’t.” He had her back lying fully on the bed, pinned beneath him, before realizing he’d even moved. He stared down into eyes alive with fury and defiance.

“Let me go,” she demanded, struggling to free herself.

But he held his own anger barely in check, and he wasn’t about to release her until he got the truth out of her. “How can you lie like that?”

“I’m not—”

“Tell me you don’t feel anything when I do this.” Ripe with frustration and need, he attempted to take her mouth. She fought him, turning her head away, but he wedged his hand between them and grabbed her chin so that she faced him again. Forcing her lips open beneath his, he claimed her mouth and tongue. Only when he felt the resistance drain out of her and her hands move to pull him closer did he release her.

“Now say it,” he ordered. “Tell me there’s nothing here.”

Closing her eyes, she shook her head.

“Damn it, Maureen. Open your eyes and tell me there’s nothing between us, and I’ll let you go.”

It took a moment, but she opened her eyes. The tears almost undid him. He almost begged her forgiveness. He almost told her he loved her. Then he saw her regain her composure, steeling herself, and he knew before she spoke what she would say.

“There’s nothing between us.” Her voice was cold and calm. Only her eyes told him the effort her words had cost her.

The anger drained from him, and suddenly he felt very tired. Releasing her, he rolled away to lie once again with his hands behind his head.

“Go, then,” he said, refusing to look at her.

He closed his eyes and forced himself to remain still as she dressed. Though he longed to pull her back into his arms, he wouldn’t allow himself to go to her. He wouldn’t speak to her, though words leapt to his lips. Words that might change her mind. He wouldn’t even look at her, because if he did, all his other resolutions would disappear.

Instead, he listened as she dressed, imagining, as he did, each item of clothing he’d so recently removed sliding back over her slender figure. The image stirred his desire, and he almost opened his eyes to watch her. He stopped himself and turned to less tempting thoughts—like why he planned on letting her walk out the door.

If he’d learned anything about this woman, it was that feigned indifference was the only way with her. He’d been pursuing her for one reason or the other since the day they’d met. And with every step he took toward her, she took two steps in the other direction. It was only when he left her alone, when he purposely ignored her, that he seemed to make any headway.

With most women, he wouldn’t even have bothered. He wasn’t into games, and he didn’t care much for women who played them. With Maureen, however, he sensed this was no game. She was running scared, and the more he chased her, the faster and farther she ran.

Now the stakes were higher. She could lie all she wanted, but they both knew the truth. There was something between them. Something strong. Something inevitable. And she was terrified. He had no doubt that if he pushed too hard, she’d be on the next bus out of town.

“I’m leaving.” Her soft voice shattered the silence, and once again, he almost lost his resolve.

Somehow, he managed a yawn, followed by words that nearly killed him to speak. “Can you find your way back to Rita’s?”

He heard her sharp intake of breath and the hesitation before she answered. “Sure. No problem.” The door slammed behind her.

Alan released the tight clamp he’d held on his eyes and turned to look at the closed bedroom door. It was only seconds before he heard the front door slam, as well. Then he was up, pulling on jeans and a shirt, struggling to slip his feet into boots so he could follow her. Although he was going to let her think he didn’t care enough to see her home, he was making damn sure she got there safely.

As for her insistence that there was nothing between them, he didn’t give it another thought. He knew better. And he didn’t give a damn about her fears. He wasn’t about to give up on the best thing he’d ever found.

M
aureen told herself it was for the best when Alan begged off Sunday dinner at Rita’s. After all, the day before had been a strain on both of them. They needed a little time to compose themselves before seeing each other again.

Of course, Katie missed him. She was crabby and difficult to handle all evening. She kept asking for Uncle Alan, while insisting she couldn’t go to bed without a horsey ride. Rita said Katie was just overtired from the day before, but Maureen knew it was more than that. Katie had become attached to him—just as Maureen feared she would. And telling the child that Alan had to work because he’d been with them the previous day made no sense to a three-year-old. Katie wanted Uncle Alan, and that was that.