Undercover Father (10 page)

“Yes, you did. And you were wrong.”

That stung, too, and she hated that it did. “Okay, I was wrong, so why don’t you shoot me like you were going to shoot that rat?”

He slowed for a light, and as the car came to a stop, he glanced at her. “I bet you thought I was stealing this when we got in it, didn’t you?”

“What?”

“Got you,” he said, and gave a sudden grin.

She tried to smile, to laugh, but she couldn’t. She was improbably close to tears at the moment, and she didn’t have any idea why. “That isn’t funny,” she muttered, blinking rapidly. “Not funny at all.”

He gunned the car away from the light and drove in silence for a few minutes. Then he unexpectedly reached over and covered her hands with one of his. “We both need to lighten up,” he said softly.

She closed her eyes tightly, feeling his warmth and strength. She stayed very still, trying to figure out why his touch was so reassuring at that moment.

Rafe felt her softness under his hand, and it felt right to just touch her. He kept the contact longer then he should have before he pulled back and gripped the steering wheel, holding on tightly to keep from touching her again. He was only vaguely aware of the way she moved a bit farther from him and spread her hands, palms down, on her thighs.

He tried to think of something to say, and ended up doing what he didn’t want to do—asking her about herself. “Didn’t you say you lived in Houston before?” As soon as he said it, he wasn’t sure if she’d told him that or if it had been in her personnel report. Or maybe Mary had told him. “Or did I get that wrong?”

“No, I grew up here.” She named an enclave of sprawling ranches and newer estates, but when she was a kid, it would have all been ranches. Ironically, his own property was in that area.

“How big was your ranch?”

“My ranch?” she asked, seemingly taken aback that he knew the area—another thing a common security guard wouldn’t know about, he thought. But there wasn’t bitterness in her voice this time. “A lot of acres. My dad built it from the ground up, and he worked it until recently.”

Her father worked a ranch? That didn’t fit with this upwardly mobile person. “He sold it off for development?”

“Oh, no, he and my mom still own it. But my brother’s going to run it, now that he’s married with kids.”

“Then I don’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

“Two things.” Rafe kept his eyes straight ahead, even when she stirred in her seat and that fragrance drifted to him in the confines of the car. “Why aren’t you staying there while you’re in Houston, and why were you so afraid of a rat?”

“I hate rats,” she said without hesitation. But she didn’t answer the first part of the question. “I’ve always hated rats. I never understood how people made pets out of them.”

“Sort of like having a pet roach?”

She laughed softly, a wonderful sound that seemed to penetrate his being. “Yes, exactly.”

“So, why aren’t you staying at your ranch? Rats out there?”

“I’m sure there are. There used to be. One summer when I was a kid, maybe ten or so, I started sneaking out of the house and going to the stables. I’d climb up into the hayloft and read, and they couldn’t find me. Then one day it was raining and I was curled up there reading
Pride and Prejudice,
and lightning struck. For some reason, it brought the rats out. The next thing I knew, they were running everywhere, including over my bare legs and feet.” He felt her shudder. “I never did that again.”

“Why did you hide out like that?” he asked, almost able to imagine her as a ten-year-old, with pale blond hair hanging in braids, and a coltish way about her.

“You won’t laugh if I tell you, will you?”

“I won’t laugh,” he said, noticing that they were getting close to the loft area. He had to fight the urge to slow down so there’d be more time to keep her talking.

“Okay, my dad wanted me to be either a princess or a great equestrian, and since the princess thing was pretty much out unless I found a stray prince hanging around, it seemed that I had to do the horse thing.”

“No other choices?”

“No, not for Dad. Unfortunately, I don’t do horses. I tried it, but really didn’t enjoy it. And despite the fact that almost every little girl wants a horse, and falls in love with them, I didn’t. I wanted to read—far away from horses and cattle. That wasn’t what Dad wanted or expected of me.”

“So you hid in the loft with your books?”

“And got attacked by an invasion of rats escaping the storm.”

“Seems to me you needed a cat out there, a big, tough cat to attack anything that moved,” Rafe said, and had the pleasure of hearing her laugh again.

“Touché,” she murmured. “Maybe I should ship Joey out there.”

“From what I’ve heard, he’d just be back at the loft sooner or later.”

Megan saw the street for the loft and didn’t know if she was relieved or disappointed. She hadn’t talked to someone like this in a long time, and she’d told him about the rats, something that she’d never told anyone, not even Ryan. She had no earthly idea why she’d told Rafe any of it. “He’s a stubborn cat,” she said, trying to ignore where her mind was headed.

Rafe slowed when the warehouse came into sight, pulling to the curb between the old van and the three motorcycles. “Thanks,” she said as soon as the car came to a full stop. “What neighbor do I ask for the key?”

“Trig. That’s the name I was given.”

“Just who did you call to get Trig to do this?” she asked.

“The big man, the boss,” he said, and turned off the car.

“You called your boss?”

“I figured if anyone would know, he would.”

“You remember when I told you about that neighbor, the one who let you in?”

“The biker?”

“That’s Trig.”

“Okay.” Rafe was out of the car the next moment, coming around to meet her on the sidewalk, then escorting her to the warehouse entrance.

“You don’t have to do this. I can take it from here,” she said as she caught up with him at the call box.

He acted as if she hadn’t spoken. Pressing one of the buttons on the intercom, he was greeted with a “Yeah?”

“Trig?”

“Yeah.”

“Miss Gallagher from LynTech needs—”

He didn’t get to finish before the harsh buzzer sounded, and when he reached for the door, she saw it open. Before she could stop Rafe from going up with her, he turned to her with one hand on the door. “I’d like to meet this guy.”

Not eager to meet Trig alone again, she didn’t fight Rafe going in with her and up in the elevator. When the lift stopped, he tugged up the cage door, and as they stepped out, the door to the next loft opened. Trig appeared, huge as ever, in leather pants, a vest and nothing else.

“Hey, there, little lady,” he said as he came toward them. He smiled at Megan, totally ignoring Rafe. “So, you locked yourself out, did you?”

“I lost my keys,” she said. “I’m sorry to bother you.”

“Well, honey, I’ve lost keys to every place I’ve ever wanted to be in my life,” he said with a rueful smile, then reached past her and pushed a key into the lock. It clicked and he stood back, but he didn’t offer her the key. “Keys are such a boring way to get into things, don’t you think?” he drawled. “But when you’re in civilization, you try to be civilized, or at least give it a good shot.”

“Thanks for letting me in,” Megan said.

“No problem, lady.” Then he casually tapped her chin, and a huge skull ring flashed on his middle finger as he lowered his voice in what she was sure he thought was a seductive tone. “Any old time you want anything, you just pucker up and whistle for Trig. You hear, sweetie?”

Rafe came closer, and she felt his sleeve brush her arm. “We’ve got it covered now.”

Trig looked at Rafe as if surprised he was there. “You know, buddy, I can take it from here, if you’d like.” He eyed Rafe’s uniform. “I’ve done my share of bodyguard work, and if she needs one, I’d be more than glad to take over and protect her.”

Rafe wasn’t a small man, but this biker made him feel dwarfed at the moment. And protective. He put his arm around Megan, and knew in some region of his mind that it felt as natural as breathing to do so. But he concentrated on the man in front of them, and didn’t bother analyzing the way he startled Megan when he touched her, pulling her against his side. “Like I said, I’ve got it covered.”

He felt Megan ease a bit closer, and her arm went around his waist, bringing their hips together. His heart skipped slightly as her heat seeped into his being, but he focused on Trig, who shrugged his massive shoulders. “Hey, I didn’t know,” he muttered, holding up the hand with the massive ring on it, palm toward Megan. “You and him. Who would have thought it?” Then he grinned again. “But if you throw him back, remember I’m next door, okay? No harm done?”

“No harm done,” Megan said, her voice small and breathless.

“Cool,” Trig said, then winked.”You two go and have fun.”

Megan cringed at the suggestive words, and almost died when Rafe murmured, “That’s the plan.”

CHAPTER NINE

R
AFE
TURNED
AND
,
still holding Megan, went with her into the loft.

The minute they were inside, Megan stepped away and reached out to close the door. She stood very still, made no move to turn on any lights, and Rafe could see her in the shadows. She was softly blurred, and he could have sworn she had her ear pressed to the door. “What are you doing?” he asked.

She cut him off, whispering, “Shh, just listen.”

There was no sound except for his own breathing. “What are we listening for?” he whispered back.

“For him. I never heard his door close.” Then she shifted and opened the door a crack, letting a sliver of light into the darkened loft. She shut it silently again, closing out the light. “He’s got his door open,” she whispered, “and he’s sitting right there.”

“Doing what?”

She exhaled. “I don’t know. He’s on the floor, sitting cross-legged, with his hands on his knees, palms up, and his head back.”

Rafe wouldn’t mind seeing the big man like that. “I’ll check it out when I leave,” he said.

She spoke quickly as she threw the bolt lock on the door. “Oh no, he can’t see you leave, not yet.”

“Why not?”

“He thinks we’re...you and me, that we’re in here, and you can’t just leave like that.” There was a soft thump, then she moved past him and into the shadows. As he turned, a low light flashed on by the sofa. “You saw him,” she whispered, coming closer again. “And he’s got a key to this place. I don’t want him to think I’m here alone.”

Rafe was shocked that he’d never thought about that. His feelings, his emotions were blocking out all logical thought. “Okay, you’re right. I should stick around for a while,” he said, and just hoped she wouldn’t thank him, because he was being very self-serving at that moment.

“Thank you,” she said.

“But you know, this isn’t in my job description.”

He thought they’d laugh at least, something to break the tension, but it didn’t happen. “I guess not,” she said softly.

A loud thumping came at the door, and Megan jumped at the sound. Rafe moved past her, took time to undo the top two buttons on his uniform and toss the hat to one side, then opened the door. Trig was there, holding the orange cat.

“He’s been squalling to get in, and it’s driving us nuts,” the big man said. “He’s breaking up my meditation.” Before Rafe could reach for the cat, the beast broke free, flying out of the biker’s arms and into the loft. “Silly cat,” Trig muttered, then looked past Rafe and winked. “He’s all yours, sweetheart.”

With that he turned and lumbered back to his place. Rafe watched him go, but the man left the door open and proceeded to sit on the floor with two others. The smell of incense was strong in the air. Rafe eased back and closed the door, then turned to find Megan standing beside him, her scent replacing the incense.

He inhaled cautiously, but still wasn’t ready for the response that flooded through him as he watched her turn away from him and look up at the top of the nearest wall. He followed her gaze, and even in the shadows he could make out the dark shape of the cat.

“Great, now he’s back,” she murmured softly. Then she turned again, inches from Rafe. “Did Trig close the door this time?”

“No, he didn’t,” he said, pushing his hands into the pockets of his slacks to make very sure he didn’t reach out to touch her. “It looks like they’re having some sort of consciousness raising session with the help of herbs.”

“Oh, great,” Megan breathed, feeling caught and confined. The space in the loft seemed filled with Rafe’s presence.

The evening had been crazy, her reactions to everything were even crazier. She couldn’t stop thinking about his hand on hers in the car, then him pulling her to his side, protecting her from the biker. He was just helping her, doing what he did—protecting people. It was her making so much more out of it, letting it tangle up her thoughts and touch something in her being that she couldn’t begin to define.

But if he walked out now, she wasn’t sure what would happen. Would Trig come on over and ask her to party? Or having a key, would he just let himself in? She didn’t know why he had a key to begin with, or why he didn’t give it to her. She turned away from Rafe, saying something about getting them both a drink, even though she didn’t have any idea if there was anything to drink in the kitchen.

But she stopped at the kitchen door and turned back. Why couldn’t she figure out if it was more dangerous for him to go, leaving her to deal with Trig, or for her to let him stay in this place with her? “Maybe you...you need to get home?” she asked. She’d forgotten about his sons. “The boys are probably waiting for you, and I can just bolt the door.”

He was silent, then came across to where she stood. “A drink. I could use a drink. Any soda around here?”

Soda? “I don’t think so,” she said, and turned to go into the kitchen. She flipped on the overhead light, blinking at the brightness, then checked the refrigerator. Nothing to drink there except creamer. She’d used it in the last of the instant coffee that morning, and hadn’t thought to go shopping.

She opened the cupboard by the small refrigerator and found the cans of tuna, and behind them, lying on its side, a bottle. “Sparkling grape juice,” she said. “How’s that?”

Rafe spoke from somewhere behind her. “Fine.”

“Good,” she said without looking back at him.

Rafe was suddenly right behind her. “Let me do that,” he said, taking the bottle from her hands.

“Sure...thanks,” she said. Megan moved to the right, away from Rafe. “I’ll get glasses.”

She found two drinking glasses by the sink. Megan put the glasses on the counter. “These are all I have.”

“They didn’t stock the place, did they?” he asked as he filled the glasses halfway with the sparkling liquid.

“I should have shopped, but I haven’t had time,” she said, reaching for the closest glass, then carrying it back to the living area.

Rafe followed, and when she crossed to the sofa, so did he. She sank down in one corner, not bothering to turn on more lights, and pushed off her shoes to tuck her feet under her. Cradling the glass in both hands, she chanced a look at Rafe. He was on the other side of the couch, looking at her as he took a sip of juice. “So, now what?” he asked as he lowered the glass.

“I don’t know. I think you could leave soon, and as I said, I’ll fasten the dead bolt. Besides, he’s probably harmless.” She wasn’t so sure of that, but she wouldn’t admit as much to Rafe. “And your sons are waiting for you.”

Glancing at his wristwatch, Rafe took out a cell phone and punched in a number. He spoke quickly, then closed the phone and pushed it into his pocket. “They’re in bed,” he said. “They’re fine.”

She looked down at her glass and spoke before thinking. “It must be hard without their mother.”

She heard him sigh, releasing his breath softly, and she looked over at him. He was taking another drink, almost draining the glass this time. Then he was looking at her, his eyes dark and unreadable. “It was awful at first,” he said softly. “I guess it was a good thing the boys were so young.” He drained the last of his drink, reached for the bottle that he’d brought into the room with him, splashed it half-full again and sat back, but didn’t drink any more.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that,” she murmured, then took a sip of her own drink. Coolness ran down her throat, spreading in her stomach, only adding to the chill she felt when she saw Rafe lean forward, his elbows on his knees. He held the glass in both hands, dangling from his fingers.

“It’s okay,” he finally said. “It was two years ago...a lifetime away.”

She took another sip, but it didn’t distract her from the sorrow she felt deep inside her, or the desire to make things okay between them. That was foolish—beyond foolish. Her grip on the glass tightened. “I’m sorry,” she finally said, not sure what else to say, and realized she’d apologized to him more often than she had to any other human being in her life.

“It seems as if I was with Gabriella all my life. We were kids when we met, and it was natural for us to get married. Then the children...” He shrugged, and his head seemed to sag. “It took forever for them to come along, and then things seemed perfect for a while.”

“Was she ill for a long time?” Megan asked, not realizing that she’d moved closer to him.

“Gabriella? Sick? No, she was healthy as a horse. She carried the twins without a problem.” He tossed back part of the juice, then closed his eyes tightly. “It was a home invasion robbery that went bad. I was working, and the boys...they were with their grandmother. Gabriella was home alone, and some punks broke in. The police think she put up a fight...she probably did...and they shot her. Just shot her and took off in her car.”

Rafe exhaled, and Megan saw his shoulders shudder with the action. She moved even closer, putting her glass on the coffee table and allowing herself to touch his arm. He didn’t move. He stared into his glass. There were no words, none that she could find to say to him.

“She died right away,” he said. “And by the time I got there, it was over.”

“Did they catch the men?”

He nodded slightly. “The next day the car was spotted, and in the chase, it crashed. One of the guys was killed, with a broken neck from being thrown from the car, and the other one...he’s in prison.” Rafe drank more juice, the action breaking her contact with his arm. “He’s in for life.”

So was Rafe, she knew. And in a fleeting moment, she felt a raging anger at the way a life could be shattered. He’d loved Gabriella. He still loved her. Megan didn’t have to ask about that at all; she felt it in every word he said. “The boys...they seem so normal,” she said softly, sitting beside him, but not touching him now. “So sweet.”

“They’re young, and as everyone tells me, kids are resilient. Too bad adults aren’t,” he muttered. “The twins seem to forget all about their mother—her death, anyway. Then Gabe does something like he did last week, and it all comes back. They keep saying that soon Gabriella will be like a dream to them, or a story I’ve been telling them.”

“No,” Megan said. “That won’t happen. Not if you’re with them. You’ll keep her alive for them.” She had no idea where those words came from, but they were true. She knew that. She didn’t know how, but they were. “Gabriella’s their mother and a part of them. She always will be,” she stated, as certain of that as the fact that this man brought out things in her that she’d never known existed before.

He put his glass down on the table, then turned to her. Lifting his hand, he touched her cheek, the contact unsteady and unsettling. “Thank you,” he whispered hoarsely, then he gathered her to him.

He was holding her. No, he was holding on to her, and she let him. She nestled against his chest. She felt his heart beating against her cheek, and his arms tightly surrounding her. And in that moment, she felt a jealousy for a dead woman that made no more sense to her than being here with him did.

He loved Gabriella in a way Megan had never been loved and suspected she never would be. It was that simple. Ryan was great, terrific, but there wasn’t a heart-wrenching need in him to be with her. And it wasn’t in her, either.

She closed her eyes tightly, trying to get a grip on reality. Then Rafe eased her back, and she was looking up at him.

The kiss that came was natural and lingering, but it wasn’t passionate. It was a connection, as if Rafe needed it at that moment. He needed her to help push away the emptiness in his life.

And that was one thing she couldn’t do. She wouldn’t survive when he let go of her and walked away. She knew that, too.

She moved back from him, breaking the connection. He retreated in turn, reaching for the glass again, and she was suddenly alone, as surely as if he’d stood and left. That’s what he had to do. He had to go. She had to figure out her feelings. And with him here, she’d never be able to do that.

She heard him take a breath, as if he was going to say something, but it got cut off when the banging sounded on the door again. Rafe stood immediately, going past her without a glance. She got up and hurried after him, and stood right behind him when he called, “Who’s there?”

“It’s me, buddy—Trig.”

“What’s going on?”

“The cat,” Trig said.

Rafe glanced at her, then opened the door partway to find the huge man with the animal in his arms again. “The cat?”

“Sorry to interrupt your partying, but the cat is back and he didn’t bring a hat.” He grinned at Rafe as if he was pleased with his little rhyme. “Can you close off the fire escape or something, or teach him how to open it himself?”

The cat leaped out of Trig’s arms, darting into the loft. “Sorry,” Rafe said.

Megan turned her back to the door, watching the cat disappear into the shadows of the bedroom, and she heard Trig saying, “I don’t have any food for the monster, or I think he’d be happy over there.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

Then the door was closing, and Rafe was right behind her. She heard him say, “Megan?” softly, inches from her, but she didn’t turn. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to settle herself before she faced him again.

He whispered her name again, and then his hands went around her waist. She closed her eyes tightly, colors exploding behind her lids as his lips found hers.

Rafe was lost after the first touch, after reaching for her, and there was no thought of anything but kissing her. He didn’t know why he’d told her about Gabriella, but he’d needed to. He’d had to say her name out loud, testing it, and to relate what had happened to her. He didn’t understand why at all, because he hadn’t spoken about it with anyone else.

Then he’d held Megan, and so many things started to happen to him. He’d kissed her, and something in him had settled—almost as if a door had closed and another had opened. It was as if the brilliance of grief had been dulled. The sharp edges were gone, and he didn’t know why. Not any more than he knew why he’d reached for Megan after Trig had left again.

He knew that at least something his friends and family had told him had been right. He could move on. He could keep living. He could exist in a world where he’d known loss, but where life was still waiting for him.