Secret Maneuvers (22 page)

“I was still there when DB rolled around. Otherwise known as ‘During Bobby.’ For that period, I watched one of the strongest people I know do something that even I can’t do to this day. I watched her muster up the courage to love someone when she’d never been loved before in her life by anyone but me. I stood on the sidelines, scared as shit that you were playing some glorified high school prank on my best friend that would end up in her utter humiliation, wondering that if you were playing her, would she be able to survive getting her hopes up that someone could care about her before those dreams were smashed to pieces. You stayed around for two years, though, and it seemed like Annabelle’s dreams were coming true. It was the only thing I’d wished for in life. To have Annabelle finally have someone to fill those holes inside of her. You gave her that. Then, you took it away.”

Jesus. She was going for my jugular tonight.

Teagan took a deep breath and kept going as if she were playing a chess match instead of verbally tearing me into little pieces. “Which brings us to AB. ‘After Bobby.’ Thanks to you, I watched her become a shell of herself. Only this time, I wasn’t there for her because I was in boot camp. Why had I left my best friend alone so that I could go to boot camp?” She pointed a finger at me. “Because YOU promised me that she’d be taken care of. YOU told me that you loved her and she would never want for anything again; whether it be food, clothing or love. Then, YOU fucking left her behind like she was a piece of trash on the side of the road you couldn’t bother to pick up. So, even if I didn’t hate you for leaving her behind, I would still hate you on principal because I couldn’t be there for my best friend when she was hurting the most. Hell, I couldn’t even find her. If she hadn’t found a way to contact me while I was still in boot camp I wouldn’t have had any idea of how to find her. So excuse me if I think you’re worse than dog shit on the bottom of my shoe. You didn’t find your best friend a shadow of the person she used to be while also pregnant and worried about how she was going to take care of a baby all by herself. I, on the other hand, did.”

My rage boiled over so quickly that I saw red. It would be a miracle if my blood pressure was in any kind of normal range and not shot sky-high through the roof. “Now, wait just a damn minute! I didn’t know she was pregnant and if I had, I would have taken care of her and Seth.” Teagan opened her mouth to say something and I cut her off with a slash of my hand through the air in front of her. “Just shut it. I get that she’s the only family that matters to you, so I understand your need to protect her, but you don’t know the whole story; so you should keep your mouth shut ‘til you do.”

Snapping her jaw shut, she waved her hand at me to continue. “I fucked up sending that letter. I knew I’d made a mistake immediately after I’d sent it. I sent another letter, spilling my guts out to her. Apologizing for what I’d said. The minute I was allowed to make a phone call, I called my parents and told them what I’d done and asked them to help me find her so I could apologize. The problem was, she was already long gone. So, yeah, breaking up with her and letting her down on my promises and our dreams was wrong, but that didn’t give her the right to keep my son from me. Not that it’s any of your fucking business, either, but I’ve already apologized for all of this to her. I’m done explaining myself to people about this. It’s between me, Belle and our son. No one else from here on out. So you can stand behind them and support them, but you’re going to keep your goddamn nose out of our business.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth opened again to say something.

“I damn well mean it, Teagan! This. Is. My. Family. I’m trying to fix it! I will not have you messing it all up for me out of some twisted sense of protection. I love Seth and I still love Belle, even if I have the occasional urge to choke her out for what she’s done. Shit, mistakes and circumstances came between me and my family once before. Now, nothing will stop me from claiming my family. Do you understand me, woman?”

“You should probably stop yelling at Aunt Teagan now, Dad.”

Whipping my head around, I found Seth propped up against the wall behind me with his arms crossed over his chest, one ankle crossed over the other, and one side of his mouth twitching like he was trying to hold back a laugh.

Running frustrated hands over my hair, I dropped them by my sides and tipped my head back to the ceiling, looking for divine intervention or a black hole to swallow me up. Talk about screwing shit all up.

“God, Son. I’m so sorry you had to hear tha—”

Shrugging his shoulders, he replied, “No biggie, Dad. It was kind of cool to hear you telling her that you wanted us.”

Man. The kid just un-did me sometimes.

Walking forward until we were just a few feet apart, I reached over, hooked an arm around his neck and tugged him over into a one-armed hug. “Never doubt it from here on out, boy. I’ll always want you.”

He nodded his head. “That’s good.” Then, he socked me in the gut with a light punch. “But stop yelling at Aunt Teagan now. I haven’t seen her in over year.”

Stepping out from underneath my arm, I watched my son walk over to Teagan and pull her up into a bear hug, which wasn’t hard for him to do since they were the same height. There were a few low murmured words while they hugged and I found myself jealous. Teagan obviously had an easy, close and loving relationship with my son. Something I should have, too, but didn’t. Instead of letting the familiar anger of my situation sweep over me, causing me to potentially grind my molars down into nothing except tooth dust, I reminded myself that this was what I was trying to fix. This was my second chance to get it all right.

Chapter Fourteen

Annabelle

If I never see a stack of paperwork that high again, I can die a happy woman. Who knew you had to cross so many t’s and dot so many dag-gum i’s just to request another department to share their reports from an arms bust that was related to your case? It was freaking ridiculous. Trudging up the front steps of my porch, my shoulders sagged, and I was hoping I had enough energy to thank Bobby before kicking him the hell out of my house so I could fall into a semi-coma from my lack of sleep the past few days.

When I walked through the front door, though, a smell so heavenly it could have been a gift from God hit my nose and I had to make sure my mouth wasn’t open or the drool would start pouring out of my mouth. Leaving the entryway, I was met with a sight I would have never expected to see in my entire life. Standing in my kitchen, in front of the stove with a spatula in his hand as he flipped something over in the pan, was Bobby.

I don’t know what it was exactly about him in that moment. It could have been the jeans that he was wearing that cupped those strong thighs and that sinful ass of his. Or it could have been that t-shirt he was wearing that hung loose around the waistline and snug across the back of those broad shoulders. More than likely, however, it was because he was such a big, strong, mouthwatering man that was doing something as domestic as cooking a freaking meal. He was suddenly the sexiest thing I’d ever laid eyes on.

That was saying something since I’d once had to go into the Texas Longhorn’s locker room after one of their practices to look for a suspect I’d been chasing. I’d run into a vision of muscled, naked, wet bodies fresh from the shower that started scrambling for their towels the minute they’d seen me enter the room. After that day, I considered myself a bit of an authority on sexy men. Bobby Baker standing in my kitchen, cooking a meal, was now firmly at the top of the list of sexual fantasies. It was too bad fantasy wouldn’t meet reality and he would not be giving in to the sudden urge to spread me out on the dining room table and pretend I was dessert. Not that it would matter if he was interested. I was so tired right now, I’d probably fall asleep even if it was the best sex of my life.

Walking into the kitchen, he heard my footsteps and turned his head to see me. “Hey. Glad your home safe. If you wait just a second I’ll have this served up and you can sit down and eat.”

That stopped me in my tracks. He’d cooked for me? I’d just assumed he was cooking himself dinner. Or maybe Seth a late meal even though it was ten o’clock and the kid was supposed to be in bed by now because he had school tomorrow. Why in the world would he cook for me?

“Well, why would I cook for myself and not cook for you? I’m not that much of an asshole. And Seth is in bed. I thought teenagers were supposed to give you a hard time about when they went to bed? I didn’t even have to say anything to him. He got up from the couch at ten, gave me a hug goodnight and went to bed. Is he like a Stepford kid or something?”

I’d said all of that out loud? Holy shit.

“Yeah, and you’re still saying it out loud. You realize that, right?”

Giving my eyes an exaggerated swipe of the hands, I looked back up to find Bobby’s lips twitching. “I must seem crazy right now. Just ignore me. I’m really tired.”

“Get yourself something to drink, babe.”

He turned back to the stove and started dishing out food onto two plates. This whole scenario seemed surreal. He’d been worried that Seth was a Stepford kid? Pft. I was worried that he was a Stepford Bobby! Getting a glass down from the cabinet, I filled it with cold water from the tap and started taking sips out of it as I leaned against the counter, watching him.

“You want to sit at the table or what?”

A table with Bobby seemed too intimate. Sitting next to each other. Perhaps even closely. His knee accidentally touching mine under the table. Low conversation and lingering looks. Too much like a couple sitting down to enjoy time with each other. It was best to avoid things like that. He wouldn’t understand why that would hurt me and that wasn’t his fault.

“I’ve been sitting at a desk all day long with paperwork. I’ll just stand here at the counter and eat. You can go to the table if you’d like to, though. Promise it won’t hurt my feelings.”

He gave me a considering look, put my plate on the counter in front of me, and then placed his own plate a few feet away from my own. Leaning over the counter a bit to tuck into his food, he started shoveling forkfuls of chicken and herbed rice as if he was afraid it was going to disappear. It kind of reminded me of how Seth used to eat his food when he was four or five. He’d had oodles of energy and he’d practically swallow food whole in his attempt to get it down quickly.

He noticed my lack of movement and looked up from under his eyelashes, taking a pause with his fork in midair on the way to his mouth. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“Do you even bother to chew? Or do you just swallow and hope you don’t choke?”

His cheeks turned a tad bit pink and he put his fork back on his plate. “Sorry. Some habits die hard. Including the one you pick up in mess halls about eating quickly.”

“Well, at least you’re not eating like that because you’re in a race to get away from me.” Picking up my fork, I speared a piece of chicken and put it in my mouth. A buttery, lemon flavor exploded on my tongue and the next thing I knew my eyes rolled back in my head and there was a moan slipping out of me. “Gawd, Bobby. That’s just… yum.”

“Do you always make sounds like that while you’re eating?”

“Only when the food is good enough to deserve it.”

“That’s going to be a problem for me when we’re eating dinner with Seth then, because I don’t know how comfortable I feel sporting a boner when my son is around.”

Now it was my turn to blush. Unable to look at him, I kept my eyes fixed to my plate as I used my fork to push my food around a bit. “Just how often do you think you’ll be cooking us dinner?”

“Every chance I can get. Especially if I get to hear you make sounds like that again.”

Sucking in a surprised breath, I missed the fact that he’d moved closer to me until his hand was there cupping the side of my face, moving it up so that I had to look him in the eye. We were only inches apart, the heat from his body warming the front of my own. Just that little bit of contact was too much. “Don’t, Bobby.”

His gorgeous blue eyes searched my face. “Don’t what, baby?”

The familiar pricks of tears forming started in the corner of my eyes. I’d told myself I wasn’t going to cry anymore and not even twenty-four hours later, I was about to start blubbering like an idiot. “Don’t do this to me, please.”

A thumb slowly swept over my cheekbone. “What am I doing, Belle?”

“I can’t handle it. Don’t make me beg.”

His face moved a little closer. “What am I doing that will make you beg?”

“You’re acting like you want me and I know that’s not possible because you hate me now. I understand why you hate me, Bobby, I do. What I did was wrong and I’m so sorry.” Sucking in a ragged breath, I gave a tortured whisper, “Please, if you ever truly cared for me, don’t do this to me. Don’t act like you want me when I know you don’t.”

“I can’t do that.”

Sniffling now, I ask, “WHY?”

“Because I do want you. I’ve never stopped wanting you, and I never will, no matter what’s happened between us. You pissed me off. You hurt me so bad that I’ll never be the same, but you’ll never be able to do anything that will make me stop wanting you.”

His free arm slipped around my waist and pulled me roughly into him. The hand holding my face slid back into my hair, pulling my ponytail out and causing the heavy weight to drop to my back before he fisted the strands to hold me where he wanted me. Closing the remaining distance between us, his lips skimmed mine as he spoke, “You can break my heart. You can scoop it right out from inside of my chest with a dull, rusty spoon and, even then, I wouldn’t be able to stop wanting you.”