The Heart of Christmas (20 page)

23

E
ve was shaking so badly she could scarcely open the box. “I really wish you’d let me put this off,” she told Cheyenne, who was standing outside the bathroom door.

“Procrastination won’t help anything,” her friend responded, speaking in a low voice so no one at the B and B would wonder what they were doing hanging around the bathroom together. “It’s better to know.”

“I’m not entirely convinced of that.” If she
wasn’t
pregnant, he might be reassured by the news. At this point,
she’d
be reassured, too. Then she could enjoy spending the holidays with him without worrying about how it would impact another life. But what if she was?

“You got it?” Cheyenne asked.

“Quit rushing me!” she snapped.

“I’m just wondering if you need any help!” Cheyenne sounded equally perturbed.

“I can figure out how to do...you know, what we want.” She sat on the lid of the toilet seat as she read and reread the instructions. The steps seemed simple enough. But the outcome...

“You’re stalling,” Cheyenne accused her. “I can tell.”

“Obviously you won’t give me any peace until I do this, so...” Taking a deep breath, she set the instructions aside and got out the plastic piece that tested her urine and did what she needed to do.

“Well?” Cheyenne asked as she finished.

Instead of answering, Eve set the plastic indicator on the vanity, smoothed her dress down and unlocked the bathroom door.

“Come and see for yourself.”

When Cheyenne walked in, she looked as nervous as Eve felt. “I can’t remember—how long, exactly, do we have to wait?”

“Two minutes. A line means I’m pregnant.”

“God, Eve. What a mess.” Cheyenne’s eyes were riveted on the indicator but Eve was afraid to look.

Eve didn’t say anything. She held her breath and counted to sixty before making herself peek at the results. Then she sank onto the lid of the toilet seat. “Oh, no.”

“There’s a line,” Cheyenne confirmed.

Dropping her head in her hands, Eve tried to absorb the fact that she was going to have a baby—Rex’s baby. And that it would be just one more reason they couldn’t be together.

* * *

That evening when Rex heard a car pull into the drive, he got up to make sure it was Eve. Then he stood at the window, watching as she gathered up some groceries from the backseat. For a second, he allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to walk out and greet her as if he were a regular man with regular problems—problems they could overcome if they wanted to.

Then he glanced at his new laptop, which he’d purchased at an electronics store about an hour away—almost in the Bay Area—once Eve had returned to work. He’d also bought some clothes, shoes and a shaving kit at a mall that wasn’t much farther, and then he’d come back to reload his programs and restore his files. He’d just downloaded what the cameras had recorded while The Crew trashed his house. Seeing that was enough to dispel his wishful reverie. The past always pushed what he wanted out of his reach.

He wasn’t convinced Eve would be glad to find him still hanging around, anyway. Not now that she’d had time to think about what he’d told her. Surely, she would see the wisdom of getting rid of him as soon as possible.

He walked out to help her in spite of that. “Hey.”

Her smile seemed strained. “I thought you might be gone.”

He hesitated. “Is that what you were hoping for?”

She studied him for a few seconds. Then she shook her head. “No. I can’t say I was.”

He took the bags out of her arms, and she turned to get something else—a box—from the backseat. “You okay?” he asked. “You look a little...stressed.”

“I’m fine.” She hefted the box higher and led the way to the house. “Just tired.”

“Why don’t I make you some dinner? I’ll move to Mrs. Higgins’s afterward, so you can get some rest.”

She didn’t offer to let him stay with her, as he’d secretly hoped. Now that he was here, now that resuming his life in San Francisco wasn’t an option, he wanted to spend as much time with her as he could. He understood that might make things more difficult on both of them when he had to leave, but he was so sick of fighting the same battle over and over. He needed a respite, a reason to recommit to outdistancing The Crew. If he had to move on in order to protect Eve, he could make himself do it. But saving his own skin no longer meant that much to him, not if he was only looking at more of what he’d endured for the past eight years.

“I was going to cook
you
dinner,” she said.

“But I’m the one who got to sleep in.”

She shot him a wry look as he leaned against the door, holding it open. “Because you were up all night.”

He deposited the bags on the kitchen table while she put her box on the counter, and they began to unload the groceries. He didn’t have any idea where most of the items went, so he stuck with the obvious—taking care of the food that needed to be refrigerated.

She nodded at his laptop, which he’d set up on the end of the table they weren’t using. “Looks like you’ve been shopping.”

“It’s never easy to lose a computer.”

“I hope you had everything backed up.”

“I did.”

“Thank God. But it still takes a while to recover so much information.”

“That’s no joke. It’ll probably take most of the evening.”

“You’ve got to be tired.”

He was bone-tired, but not due to lack of sleep. He was struggling beneath an emotional load that was heavier than any he’d had to drag around before—except when he and Laurel had broken up. But that was back when he’d allowed himself to dull the pain with OxyContin.

There was no relief for this, except Eve’s touch and smile and the warmth of her body beside him in bed.

“Did you file a police report?” she asked.

“I did. Not that it’ll do me any good.”

“They could catch the guys. Put them behind bars.”

He hated to destroy her hope, but there was the crime—and then there was the practical side of the situation. “How long do you think they’d get for shooting out a few walls and light fixtures when rapists are typically sentenced to what...five, six years? And I can’t give the police my contact information so—”

“Why not give them mine?” she broke in.

“That’s the last thing I’d do.”

She seemed surprised by his unequivocal response. “You don’t think—”

“I wouldn’t take the chance.”

“You don’t even trust the police?”

“The Crew has wives and girlfriends, sisters, uncles and cousins—not to mention parents, friends, former teachers and all the rest. They don’t exist in a vacuum.”

“Meaning...” She got out several cloves of garlic and the tomatoes so she could start dinner.

“They have a huge network, Eve. And all the people who love them feel some degree of loyalty, and hold various regular jobs. A few are probably even police officers or legal clerks or administrative assistants to various law enforcement agencies. You’d be surprised by the amount of information that flows into The Crew’s organization. I was part of it, remember? I know how it works. I’ve only survived by playing it safe.”

“But the police—”

“It was an insider who gave us away in the WitSec program. I learned my lesson the hard way—trust no one.”

Lines appeared on her normally smooth forehead. “It’s so frustrating that you’re not getting the help you need.”

“Gang violence is notoriously hard to stop. Look at it from this perspective—an average detective has worse crimes coming across his desk every day, murders for instance. And the victims have families call him up all the time, demanding justice. The police don’t give a shit about the windows in my house when no one was actually hurt.”

“
You
could’ve been hurt.” Finished chopping the garlic, she looked up at him before grabbing the pan she needed. “You could’ve been killed. Someone should care about that.”

“No. Not when I got myself into this mess.”

“You had no idea what you were doing when you did it.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, but he didn’t want this conversation to continue. He’d spent eight years thinking about The Crew and cursing his situation. He’d had enough. He preferred to spend this one night focusing on the beautiful woman preparing him a home-cooked meal, so he changed the subject. “What can I do to help with dinner?”

She gestured to the box on the counter, which she hadn’t emptied yet. “If you’ll boil some water for the pasta, I’ll make the sauce.”

“I’m on it.” The food was already beginning to smell good. He folded the sacks and held them up, a silent question as to where they should go.

She glanced over. “In there.” She motioned toward a small pantry. “I hope you like artichokes,” she said as he put them away.

“They’re going in the sauce?” he called back.

“No. We’ll start with some artichoke dip on crackers. Then we’ll have a green salad and angel hair pasta with olive oil, tomato and garlic. I had Pam, at the inn, prep most of it, so we’ve got the dip and the salad. The rest won’t take long.”

“And for dessert?”

“I bought a big chocolate cake. And I have ice cream in the fridge.”

He grinned. “Cake and ice cream? Sounds like we’re celebrating your birthday again.”

“No, we’re definitely not.”

She seemed preoccupied and distressed when he came up behind her. “Is there any chance you could do me a favor?” he asked, sliding his arms around her waist and pulling her against his chest.

At first she remained stiff, as if she was tempted to resist his touch. But as he kissed her neck, she softened and sank into him. “I’m almost afraid to ask what it is,” she said.

“I don’t want to talk about my problems tonight. I don’t want to talk about my past or my family or what I’m going to do in the future. I just want this evening with you to...feel normal. Is that too much to ask?”

She set down the spatula she’d been using to brown the garlic and turned in his arms. She didn’t say anything at first, just stared up at him. So he prompted her again. “Is it?”

“No,” she said in a resolute tone. “That’s not too much to ask. Fortunately, Victorian Days doesn’t start until tomorrow, so I’m available.”

“Victorian Days?”

She locked her hands around his neck. “It’s a Christmas celebration the town hosts every year. We sing carols around the tree in the park and someone reads the story of Christ’s birth. I open the inn and sell wassail and cookies, along with the ornaments from one of my trees. All the profits go to buy presents for the children of needy families. Then I wrap those presents, and my friend Kyle dresses up as Santa and delivers them to the individual houses a few days before Christmas. There are other vendors, too, who sell handmade items and other things. Quite a few people contribute. It’s a lot of fun, something I look forward to all year.”

“Sounds like it.”

“But there’s nothing going on tonight—unless you’d like to go over to Sexy Sadie’s for a drink.”

“I’m not looking for that kind of fun.” His gaze fell to her mouth. “I just want a quiet night at home with you.”

She seemed intent as she watched him. There was something serious going through her mind, but he didn’t know exactly what it was and wasn’t about to ask. He’d requested that this night not be spoiled by the dark things in his life.

“What do you say?” His heart was in his throat in case she rejected him. But she didn’t. Taking his face in her hands, she stood on tiptoe and pressed her mouth to his.

24

E
ve had planned to let Rex go over to Mrs. Higgins’s after dinner. What with news of the baby, she had too much on her mind; she couldn’t allow her feelings for him to complicate the decisions she had to make. So kissing him had been a mistake.

She should’ve known she couldn’t stop there. Any contact with him was potent, so potent that, in almost no time at all, every thought of what would be best—even for her child—deserted her.

The baby wouldn’t arrive for nine months. She’d figure everything out by then, she told herself. What they were doing was inevitable. They hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other from the first night they met. And that attraction hadn’t gone away simply because she knew he had a checkered past. She wanted him in spite of that, and she suspected the season had a lot to do with it. At Christmas, everything seemed possible, all transgressions magically forgivable—at least if one wanted to be forgiven, wanted to change.

Or maybe that was just an excuse. Either way, she’d felt desire burn like fire through her veins the moment he’d met her at the car to help her with the groceries.

Trying to forget that pregnancy test—there’d be plenty of time for that later—she let herself focus on how pliable and warm his lips were, how expertly he used his tongue.

“It’s a good thing not all men kiss like you do,” she said.

“It’s just my kisses you like? And here I’ve been trying so hard to impress you with my other talents.”

She liked a lot of things about him. The way he looked was certainly one of them. But just about any woman would admire such uncommon beauty. Mostly, she loved the way he made her feel, as if all was right with the world as long as he was with her. “I’m impressed by the whole package.”

“I love it when you talk dirty.”

“That was talking dirty?” she asked in surprise.

“My package likes you, too.”

She laughed, which further eroded her resistance. “You make it impossible for me to even
think.
”

“Then
don’t
think,” he said. “And I won’t, either.”

He’d asked for a night devoted just to enjoying each other, and she saw no reason not to give him that. “Dinner,” she muttered, vaguely remembering she had something on the stove that would be ruined if she didn’t attend to it.

He reached behind her and turned off the burner. “How hungry are you?” he breathed against her mouth. “Can you wait for fifteen or twenty minutes?”

“I want you more than I want anything else.” She felt his arms tighten around her, felt his kiss grow more purposeful and intense.

“You smell delicious,” he told her.

“I smell like garlic,” she said.

“Exactly.”

“Sounds like
you
might be too hungry to wait.”

His mouth moved down her neck as his hands sought her bra clasp. “Maybe I’ll have you for dinner.”

“That sounds promising.”

“Then help me get rid of some of these clothes.”

He was making quick progress on his own. Her blouse was already in a puddle at her feet. “We should go into the bedroom,” she said. “I don’t have blinds on these windows. What if my parents come down the drive?”

“Do they pop in very often?”

“Not really. They don’t like all the ruts between the two houses. But...still.”

“Let me get some cake first.” He rummaged around in the carton until he found the cake in its bakery box and scooped up a handful of frosting. Then he pulled Eve around the corner, out of sight of the windows and spread it on her breasts. “Damn, this is going to taste good,” he said.

Eve dropped her head back as his mouth closed over her. It
felt
good, too.

* * *

Rex had used a condom. He hadn’t asked whether she was pregnant from that first night. He’d just ripped open the package and rolled it on before he pressed inside her, and that was enough to tell Eve he was assuming she wasn’t.

So she didn’t tell him about the test she’d taken at the B and B, with Cheyenne hovering anxiously outside the bathroom. Didn’t tell him the test had been positive.

After drifting off for a few minutes, he stirred next to her. “You awake?”

She was so warm and languid snuggled up against him that she didn’t want to move. She wished they never had to get out of bed. “Yeah.”

“Because you’re hungry?”

“Not really.”

“Then what are you thinking about?”

“That’s a loaded question, what with all the topics that are taboo for tonight.”

“Maybe. But you seem too pensive for a woman who should be satisfied and relaxed. I can’t help being curious.”

“You won’t want to discuss it.”

“If it’s about certain parts of my life, that’s very likely.”

She’d been thinking about their baby and his comment that he’d be “terribly upset” if she was pregnant. But because she had certain topics she wanted to avoid, too, she touched one of the scars on his chest. “This. How’d you get it?”

“From a security job I never should’ve taken.”

“What happened?”

He shifted so she could settle more comfortably on his chest and ran his fingers through her hair as he talked. “Believe it or not, I’ve never been shot by The Crew. They’ve tried to hurt me, but they’ve never succeeded. All these scars are from when I was trying to start my business.”

“Does that make them fairly recent?”

“If you call three years ago recent.”

“They’re from
one
event?”

“Yeah. Just after I moved to San Francisco and started All About Security.”

She raised herself onto her elbows. “These look like they were serious injuries. How is it that you didn’t die?”

“I nearly did. Spent a month in the hospital.”

She hated the thought of such a close call, hated that he was still in danger. “Was there anyone in San Francisco to support you?”

“Support me how?” He acted as though the concept itself was foreign to him. She’d already guessed that he’d been alone for too long but this confirmed it.

“Come to visit you. Encouraged you during your recovery.”

A wry smile twisted his lips. “What a girlie thing to say.”

She gave him a hard nudge. “You can be so sexist!”

“Calm down. That softer side is what I love about you.”

“Then why are you making fun of it?”

“‘Support’ isn’t the first thing I would’ve thought of if you’d told me
you
nearly died.” He tweaked her chin. “So get that offended expression off your face. I actually didn’t have anyone to rely on, just Marilyn, my assistant, and the two bodyguards I’d hired up until that point. They came by once or twice. Virgil would’ve flown out, but I wouldn’t hear of it.”

“He should’ve come, anyway.”

“He has kids. It’s not easy to leave them. And Peyton worries whenever he’s gone—for good reason.”

“What about your family? Dennis and Mike?”

He sobered. “They didn’t know. Still don’t.”

“You never told them?”
She couldn’t imagine going through something like that on her own. Her friends and family had always been so important to her, such a big part of her life.

“No. They’re aware of the basics, but not many of the details.”

“Why?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Since you’re leaving soon, you have nothing to hide, remember? You can be an open book with me.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be an open book.”

She gave an exasperated sigh. “Fine. You don’t like to talk about your family. Then will you tell me why you took that particular job? The one that got you hurt? Were you desperate for work or—”

“No. I was getting by. I just agreed to a contract with someone I shouldn’t have gotten involved with. He told me he owed some dangerous people quite a bit of money. He had the money and was going to pay them off, but he wanted me to go with him to make sure it went smoothly.”

“I’m almost afraid to hear the rest,” she said.

“It didn’t turn out too pretty. What he’d told me wasn’t true. It was actually some kind of high-stakes drug deal that went bad. As soon as we got to the drop, several other cars pulled up and a bunch of guys jumped us both. I managed to get the bastard I was protecting back into his car before he could get hurt, him and his money, and then the driver took off, as he’d been instructed to do.”

She bit her lip, tense even though this was something that’d happened in the past. “They
abandoned
you? Did they at least call the cops so you could get some help?”

“Are you kidding? What could they say without explaining why we were there in the first place? And the fact that I’d salvaged the money royally pissed off the guys who were still left.”

“How many men were there?”

“Had to have been eight.” He rolled over to show her some of his other scars—as if she hadn’t already made careful note. “I was shot three times and stabbed twice.”

“That asshole who misled you! I hope he’s rotting in prison somewhere.”

“I have no idea where he is. The worst of it was that he never paid me. When I tried to reach him later, his number was disconnected. Haven’t been able to track him down since.”

“He’d probably be surprised to learn that you were even looking, that you’re not dead.”

“It’s a miracle I didn’t die. If not for some homeless guy who stumbled upon me while he was searching for a place to sleep, I would’ve bled out, no question. Even if it had gone another five or ten minutes.”

“Where were you?”

“In the yard of some warehouse.”

“He went for help?”

“That’s what the cops told me later. All I remember is someone turning me over, realizing I was alive and backing away. The next time I opened my eyes, I was in a hospital bed.”

The dangers of his job had been overshadowed by the threat he faced from his old gang, but Eve knew his job alone would be difficult for any woman to contend with. “I’m not sure I like what you do for a living,” she said.

He pulled her down against him. “Normally it’s not too bad. Now that I know I’m not invincible, I’m a little more careful about the assignments I accept.”

“Don’t you have other bodyguards you can send?”

“I do. But I have to be even more careful when I involve them.”

“Of course.” She didn’t like the idea of him taking the most dangerous jobs, but she could understand why he wouldn’t want to be responsible for getting someone else injured or killed. “Have you ever had one of your men get hurt?”

“Back when Virgil and I were in business together, one of our bodyguards took a bad beating. And more recently an employee of mine was stabbed while trying to get a client out of a bar. He needed reconstructive surgery on his shoulder. His wife made him quit.”

“No wonder.”

“It’s a job best suited to single guys. That’s what I’ve decided.”

“Single guys like you.”

He rolled her onto her back and stared down at her with those intense green eyes of his.

“What?” she asked.

“I don’t think I’ve talked so much in years. I’m sure I’ve met my yearly quota. We’d better eat.”

She smiled but grabbed his arm before he could get up. “Are you ever going to tell me why you’re estranged from your family?”

His open, playful mood seemed to evaporate. “We’re not talking about any of that tonight, remember?”

“It must’ve been something bad, Rex.”

For just a second, she saw a heart-wrenching expression on his face and regretted bringing it up. “It was,” he said, his mind obviously a million miles away—possibly reliving whatever it was.

“I should tell you something,” she said to bring him back to the present.

His eyes focused again. “What’s that?”

“The first time I called your brother’s house—”

“The first time?” he broke in.

“I called twice.”

“Because...”

“I was curious. Why else would I call? I knew you weren’t telling me the truth.”

“What I don’t understand is how you got my brother’s number in the first place. Did you take it out of my pocket?”

She grimaced. “No. I would never go through your pockets.”

“You went through my hotel room.”

“I
cleaned
your hotel room. There’s a difference. And I’d asked you to leave. If you had, none of your stuff would’ve been there.”

That devilish grin she liked so much appeared on his face. “So it was my own fault?”

She felt the heat of a blush. “I didn’t get into your bag or anything.”

“There are
some
lines you won’t cross, huh?”

Throwing off her embarrassment, she pulled him in for another kiss. “Maybe not anymore.”

Her impulsive action seemed to surprise him.

“What? You didn’t want me to kiss you?” she asked.

“Actually, I liked. I liked it a lot.”

“Good.” She stared up at him, caught in some profound moment she didn’t quite understand.

“If you’re trying to distract me, it’s working,” he said.

“Distract you from what? Dinner?”

“How you got my brother’s number.”

She sighed and let go of him. “It must’ve fallen out of your pocket, into the backseat of Noelle’s car. She ran into me a few days after she brought us home and passed it along, said it belonged to you.”

He adjusted the covers, which were tangled around their legs. “And you didn’t return it because...”

“I told you. I was curious about your true identity.” She wasn’t sure whether to say what else was on her mind, but she thought it might help him in some way, comfort him, to know what she’d heard that day. “And my curiosity only grew once I spoke to someone I assume was your sister-in-law.”

He stiffened. “Why? What’d Connie say?”

“That Dennis would want to talk to you. That he loves you. She begged you to call back when he wasn’t in surgery. She’s hoping to bring the family back together again.”

He sat up. “She thought
I
was calling?”

“I didn’t speak the first time.”

“But why would I call and not say anything?”

“Because you’re lonely?”

A muscle moved in his cheek. “What I am is hungry,” he said. “Let’s eat. I don’t want to get over to Mrs. Higgins’s too late. She has a hard time sleeping since her husband died.”