Explosive Alliance (25 page)

Bo stroked a knuckle over Honey's golden head. "I wish I could, but I can't."

"Mom says I can have one of the puppies. Would you be mad if I kept Honey?"

"I'd be glad to know she had a good home." He angled his head toward Kirstie, late-afternoon sun glinting off the slight curl to his dark hair. "And maybe I could see her sometime if I'm up this way."

"You'll be back?"

"I hope so."

Paige's fingers tightened around the wooden handle. How could she be so thrilled and terrified all at once?

"You still want to be my friend even after I puked on your boots and was kinda cranky when you were around at first?"

"Yes, Kirstie, I'd like to be your friend."

Kirstie hugged the puppy closer, her head dipping to nuzzle his furry softness. "I don't got many friends here."

Paige swallowed down the cotton-wad lump in her throat. Apparently, Kirstie had been holding in a lot of things to keep her mama from being sad.

"Moving can be tough."

"It's not 'cause of the move." She set the puppy back on her knees, flopping long ears back and forth with exaggerated concentration. "My daddy didn't die of the polio."

Paige straightened from her slouch against the mop, the conversation suddenly about far more than future dates. Part of her longed to burst out onto the porch and scoop up her daughter, but she feared an interruption would stop Kirstie cold.

Please, please, Bo, handle my baby with care.

He reached to flop the puppy ears, too, which also happened to bring his scarred hand over Kirstie's smaller one. "I know, Cupcake."

"He, uh," she whispered, clearing her throat and starting again, "he died in jail because he was a bad man."

"So did my dad."

Whoa. Hold on. They'd spoken about his father, and Bo never mentioned this. Why? Something to ask him about later, but right now she needed to focus on her daughter.

"Your daddy died in jail? How come?" Kirstie asked the question hammering in Paige's mind.

"He stole cars." Muscles rippled along his shoulders with tension under the thin cover of his well-washed cotton T-shirt. "The last time he did it, he killed someone so the police sent him back to jail for good."

"Did somebody shoot him, too?"

"He had a heart attack."

"Oh." In profile, she squinted her brown eyes behind her glasses, canting closer to him. ''You don't look like your daddy was a bad guy."

"Neither do you."

"Thanks."

"And thank
you."

Kirstie went back to flipping Honey's ears with extra focus as if weighing her words. "My mama used to say I got my daddy's nose, back when she used to talk about him. What if I got other parts of him, too?"

Her voice went soft again as her hands fell away from the puppy. "The monster parts."

Pain knifed through Paige like a contraction in her midsection where she'd once carried this child close to her heart. She propped the mop against the wall before she dropped it. Her feet pulled her closer to comfort her daughter, even as she knew she should stay back.

"Trust me. You don't." His voice stayed gentle, but surety rang through that even a kid couldn't miss.

Paige stopped at the screen door behind them, her hands pressed to the mesh.

"How can you be so sure? Grown-ups tell lies, you know. My daddy said he loved me. But if he really did, then he should have loved me enough not to do stuff that would make him go to jail. He shouldn't have hurt those other people."

"You're right," Bo answered with surprising frankness.

"I am?" Kirstie's cupid mouth dropped open as she looked up at Bo. "You're not going to tell me my daddy really loved me and I shouldn't worry about grownup stuff?"

Like Paige had said for a year. Her forehead fell to rest against the metal frame of the screen door.

"The way I see it, Cupcake, you already have to deal with grownup stuff, so I'm going to explain this to you in a grownup way. Think you can handle that?"

She nodded, eyes wide and somber. Side by side, Kirstie and Bo sat, looking so much like a father and daughter it hurt Paige's eyes to see their twin shadows stretch down the steps.

"The way I figure it, there are two kinds of love. There's the kind where, sure, people say they love you, and they do. Except, what they want is more important to them than what you need."

How strange that it stabbed, hearing Kurt hadn't the first clue about being a real father. She'd known and understood, but the reality of wasted years and emotions trickled over her like ammonia on an open wound.

"And then there's the other kind of love, the real kind of love, the best kind of love. When you'll do anything to keep from hurting that person, even if means
you
have to hurt. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Paige most certainly did, because, oh, God, she couldn't ignore much longer what was squeezing her heart.

Kirstie nodded. "I think so."

"Here's an example to help you see it better," he explained with a teacher tone Paige could envision him picking up in his college course work. "I noticed how you realized your mama gets upset when you talk about your father. You kept all that hurt inside you so she wouldn't have to hurt anymore."

Kirstie started nodding faster. "And like how Mama took me to that air show even though airplanes make her sad."

He winced. "Pretty much."

Oh, how easily she could dream of him in a classroom full of kids, entertaining and teaching. He'd talked about getting out of the Air Force, after all, something she hadn't let herself consider for more than a few fleeting seconds. Not that she expected him to move here based on one night of incredible sex, but at least if he left the military, there would be more options. More hope.

Her heart squeezed tighter.

"Sooo—" Kirstie's shoulders straightened with a renewal of her old spunk "—you're saying that on the inside, I love like my mama does. Not like my dad did."

"That's exactly what I'm saying," he said with an insightful patience and understanding that couldn't be taught in any classroom. "There's another cool thing about the real kind of love."

"What's that?"

"It's okay to share the hurts and help each other." He leaned closer. "So if you want to talk to me about your daddy, I'm here to listen."

"Since you understand 'cause your daddy was a bad guy, too?"

"Exactly."

Silence echoed from the two of them while dogs yipped in the kennel, surely as loud as Paige's heart full of budding hope and resurrected dreams.

Kirstie shuffled Honey onto the next lower step. "You know what, Bo?"

"What, Cupcake?"

"I think you love people the way me and my mom do, the real way."

"Why's that?"

'"Cause I bet you don't like to talk about your daddy, but you did it anyway to make me feel better."

Standing in the shadows, Paige watched her daughter throw her arms around Bo's neck while his big hand patted her tiny back with such gentle care. She gave up the fight to hold in tears and let them flow.

Kirstie planted a kiss on his cheek, then rocked back on her heels. "I love you, too. The real kind of way."

A bundle of youthful energy, Kirstie launched to her feet and down the steps to chase after Honey, turning not just one, but two cartwheels, Bo stayed on the step keeping watch over her the whole way, his hands clasped between his knees, broad shoulders braced to take on the troubles of the world for others. Even when it hurt him.

She allowed herself more of those whimsical dreams where she envisioned him getting out of the Air Force, moving here, flying for the vet practice or even teaching.

Tears kept right on trucking down her cheeks and she didn't bother wiping them away. For the first time in a long time she didn't question her feelings. She knew. She'd done the very thing she'd sworn never to let happen again.

She'd fallen in love.

Bo heard Paige shuffle behind him. Not that it surprised him, since he'd seen her shadow stretch across about two-thirds of the way through his tough-as-hell conversation with Kirstie. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he considered just walking away without acknowledging her presence. He wasn't sure how much more of the Haugen women his heart could take today. Kirstie's revelations had left him raw.

Which meant Paige must be damned near bleeding out. Guess he was stuck on this porch for a while longer.

He glanced over his shoulder as she swung open the screen door. "You heard?"

"Every word." She sat on the top step beside him, while the sun sank in a swirl of orange and yellows.

"I think she's going to be okay." The kid certainly acted happy enough chasing Honey around the fat tree trunk. Since Paige hadn't interrupted the discussion, he'd figured she wanted him to continue, but he could be wrong. "Are you upset with me? I know she's not my kid, and some of the stuff I said might not have been age appropriate."

She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him with a long, unmoving intensity that wiped away at least some doubts. "You reached my daughter in a way no one has been able to for a year. I'm so grateful to you right now I can hardly contain it."

"I don't want your gratitude." He slid his fingers through her hair and cupped the back of her head so she wouldn't be able to dodge meeting his gaze. "I want us to keep seeing each other."

She blinked fast, and he tried to read her reaction. A little encouragement would be nice here. Instead he found only blind panic.

"Why?"

Her question stumped him. He'd expected a flat-out yes or no. "Uh, because you're hot and I like you?"

"Or because you want to take care of me since I'm a single mother who was married to a criminal—like your mother."

Damn. Paige went straight for the jugular, but he could see where she might draw that conclusion. Paige always did see through his BS, which also left him with no secrets.

Time for more digging deep. "At first when I saw you last year the similar situations crossed my mind. But I can guarantee that when I look at you now, I am
not
thinking of my mother."

Her fists clenched tight in the gesture he was starting to recognize well. She was stiffening her spine and resolve for something difficult. Ah, crap. The door was about to hit him on the ass, and the prospect pressed against his chest. Even his hands went clammy while he waited for her to answer.

"Me, too."

Huh? He exhaled. "Me, too, what?"

"I want to keep seeing you." Her throat moved in a hard swallow, not a smile in sight.

"You do?" Well, hell. Then why the panic? This should be good stuff.

Her fists went downright bloodless. Clenched any tighter, and she would crack bones. "Kirstie and I were already talking about a summer trip to Charleston. She needs to see our old house, too."

"That sounds like a wise idea." He ignored the warning blaring in his head and told himself her nerves were for her daughter, not over spending more time with him. "I'll let you know my travel schedule with work so we can pick a time I'll be in town. I'll wrangle TDYs and weekends here. I've been in Charleston long enough to try for a transfer to McChord Air Force Base, which would at least bring me to the West Coast."

Her head snapped up. "A transfer to McChord? I thought you were considering getting out of the Air Force."

"I was, but you've cleared a lot of things in my head." He cupped the back of her head, needing to touch her. "You've helped me see that, sure, music's important to me, but flying for the Air Force is what I'm called to do."

Her gaze skittered away from his. "So you're not getting out, after all."

Damn. Those warning bells had been there for a reason. He should have listened. Kirstie had even said visiting the military base made her mother sad from memories. "You were willing to keep seeing each other because you expected me to get out and move here."

"I didn't assume you would relocate just for me, but at least there was the possibility, if you decided later there was reason."

He could already see her distancing herself from him, feel the tensing muscles in her neck under his hand.

She plastered on an overbright smile and eased from under his hand. "Forget I said anything. We've only known each other a couple of weeks. We're talking about dating, not getting married."

"Are you sure about that?" Damn it, he'd known better than to push this skittish woman and still the words fell out of his mouth.

She inched back. Much farther and she'd fall off the porch. More panic chased through her eyes, followed by flat-out fear.

How ironic was that? He'd been accused by countless women of having a commitment phobia and when he'd finally found someone he could consider spending his life with...

She was commitment phobia personified.

The telephone jangled inside, and Paige sprinted to her feet like a bat out of hell. "I have to take that."

Bo recognized well enough her convenient excuse to run.

Only two weeks, she'd said.

For her maybe, but he hadn't slept with anyone since he first saw her a year ago. He hadn't even
thought
of anyone since setting eyes on her, and now he understood why. Damn straight, feelings happened that fast. He couldn't ignore the truth any longer. He'd fallen for Paige Haugen that fast twelve months ago.

He'd dated at least a hundred women. He should have plenty of practice in playing it cool at a breakup or rejection. But he couldn't think of one word to say when she returned.

Just like when he was a kid, he was out in the cold.

The door swung out from the office again, Paige worrying her lip and keeping her distance. "We'll have to talk about this later. Chuck Anderson's horse that broke his ribs is having trouble breathing. We need to fly out there right away."

Dreams weren't any more substantial than the clouds barely visible in the darkening night sky outside her airplane window.

Paige sat behind her daughter who was up front in the Cessna beside Bo. The hazy green illumination of the instrument panel cast a Halloween glow through the small cockpit. Kirstie babbled on with a million flying questions, filling the awkward silence, thank heavens.