The Playboy's Baby (16 page)

She nodded. “I trust you. Do you have Annie?”

“Of course.”

With a gentle tug on her hand, he guided her forward. The front door creaked open, and a gust of icy winter air rushed in around her.

“Step,” he said quietly.

She did. They moved down the front walk, the snow crunching beneath their feet. Ten paces later, he stopped and released her hand.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

“Where would I go?” She shrugged, feeling more than a little helpless. Her heart pounded in giddy anticipation. The whole idea of a surprise made her nervous and excited at the same time.

The car door opened with a soft pop and the click of Annie’s car seat settling into the base that was strapped into the backseat filled the silence. Dillon’s feet crunched in the snow again, and then his hand slipped into hers, warm, soft, and soothing. A gentle tug on her arm led her forward again. Then another door opened.

With Dillon’s hands on her hips to guide her, she managed to climb into the car just fine, using her hands to feel her surroundings. Dillon’s body pressed against her side, his masculine scent enveloping her when he buckled her in.

They rode in silence for the first few minutes, only the quiet sounds of a hard rock song over the radio in the background and the hum of the engine beneath her.

Finally, unable to stand the silence, she asked, “Tell me again where we’re going?”

He chuckled. “Nice try. Actually, I want to stop by my parents’ first and drop Annie off with my mother for an hour or so.”

“How come?”

He didn’t answer right away. “Maybe I just want you all to myself. Ever think of that?”

The low, husky sound of his voice and the need she heard in those words slithered all the way up her spine, setting her nerve endings on fire and making her hands tremble.

“Actually, where we’re going won’t have heat. It’s going to be cold, and I think she’ll have more fun if I leave her with my mom.”

When the car finally came to a stop a few minutes later, that sense of giddy anticipation swelled in her chest again. “Now?”

He let out a quiet laugh. “Nope. We’re at my parent’s place. Sit tight. I’ll be right back.”

The car door opened then snapped closed, enveloping her in silence for a moment before the rear door opened this time. He got Annie from the back then closed the door, leaving her, once again, in silence. Way too much time to ponder what kind of surprise Dillon, of all people, could possibly have for
her
. By the time her mind went in antsy circles, the car door opened again, another cold blast of air hitting her cheeks.

“Ready?” The car door closed again, and his voice held an entirely too amused tone.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Immensely.”

She didn’t have to see his face to know a grin went along with that statement.

The next time the car stopped, she forced herself not to get too excited and instead folded her hands in her lap and simply waited.

“This is killing you, isn’t it?” His voice came suddenly beside her ear.

Startled, her heart jumped into her throat. “Yes. I really hate surprises.”

“I promise you’ll like this one. Keep your eyes closed.”

She did what he asked, and a click sounded through the space. The seat belt slid from around her body. He gave a gentle tug on the back of the blindfold and the material slipped away. The car door opened then closed. Silence enveloped her momentarily before her door opened this time and she turned in the direction of the icy draft.

“Keep them closed.” Taking both hands in his, he helped her exit the car. The nippy winter air stung her cheeks. He led her through the snow a few feet then released her. A few moments later, his body pressed lightly against her back, and his voice came low beside her ear again. “Ready?”

This time she couldn’t help the grin that spread across her mouth. He really enjoyed tormenting her.

“Open your eyes.”

When she finally did, she couldn’t believe what she saw. She stood at the end of the front walk of the house she grew up in. After she and Janey moved to Helena, it had taken her a year to find a buyer. She hadn’t seen it since she sold it seven years ago, and the sight of it took her breath away.

It looked so much the same. The old, two-story, colonial-style house had been painted white with black shutters, with new gleaming gutters lining the roof. Her mother’s rose bushes still lined the front of the house on either side of the small front porch, larger than when she left, all of them covered now by a blanket of snow.

Memories bombarded her. Christmases around the big tree in the living room, Thanksgivings with the three of them, numerous birthday cakes in the kitchen, summers in the backyard. Each one of them included her mother’s smiling face and the sound of Janey’s laughter. Her heart twisted and moisture gathered at the corners of her eyes. She hadn’t realized how much she missed this place.

“I should never have sold it.” She still couldn’t afford to make the mortgage payments, but she should have tried harder to keep the house.

Dillon’s hands slid onto her shoulders. “Want to go inside?”

Confused, she turned to look back at him.

His eyes glimmered with tenderness and a soft smile touched his mouth. He reached into his jacket pocket and extracted a set of keys, holding them up and jangling them.

“I managed to bribe a set of keys out of the owner.”

Somehow it didn’t surprise her. “Money talks, I guess, huh?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Wasn’t my name that got me these keys. It was yours. Apparently, the old guy liked you.”

The feeling had been mutual. She liked the old couple who bought the house. She sold it to them for exactly that reason, because she knew they’d take care of it, that they’d love it the way her mother had. Looking at the place now, she knew she did the right thing. It looked better than when she left.

“Come on.” Dillon took her hand, walking slightly ahead while he led her up the front walk. He unlocked the door, and then stepped inside, pulling her in with him.

Emma paused in the foyer, Dillon stepping up beside her. The inside looked much the same. The walls were painted a simple, clean white, the way it had always been. The wooden floors looked new, gleaming under the soft light drifting in through the windows, instead of the scuffed, dull wood she remembered. Some of the crumbling moldings had been replaced, along with the old drafty windows.

“They moved out already?”

“It’s been on the market for over six months. The owners moved out in June and left the keys with the realtor. Said they moved down to California. Daughter had a baby and they wanted to be closer to family.” Dillon glanced over at her and smiled. “Realtor wasn’t going to give me the keys, but I convinced her to call the owners. The old man’s a nice guy. I told him I was doing a favor for someone special.”

Touched by the gesture, tears sprang in Emma’s eyes. No man ever had gone through so much trouble for her. “Why would you do that for me?”

“Why wouldn’t I do that for you?” He smiled again, warmth and tenderness filling his eyes. Then he tugged her hand and jerked his head in the direction of the interior of the house. “Let’s go see.”

Unable to express her gratitude, Emma squeezed his fingers before moving forward in awe. They went from room to room. Dillon followed quietly beside her. Memories past slid to mind with each room. She was most surprised with the kitchen. The same old, faded yellow wallpaper still hung on the walls. Her mother’s favorite room had been the kitchen. If she closed her eyes and listened really hard, she swore she could still hear her mother’s quiet, breathy laughter echoing around her and the sound of bacon frying in a pan when Mama made breakfast every morning.

Ten minutes later, they stood in one of the bedrooms upstairs, the one at the end of the hallway. Gone were the frilly curtains Mama insisted on and the posters that covered every available inch of wall space. Janey’s room. She could still see her sister sitting on the bed with her girly pink quilt and remembered when Janey locked herself in the closet because the old latch slid shut on her.

“I liked it better when she lived here.” The old familiar pain sliced through her chest. Now the room looked too empty. Devoid of life.

Dillon’s warmth pressed against her back. His hands came to rest on her shoulders in a show of gentle support she was grateful for. “I used to climb in through that window all the time.”

She smiled, eyeing the window in question, the memory sliding to mind, of one too many nights waking to the sounds of giggling and shushing coming from this room. “I know. You two were never very quiet about it.”

His chest rumbled against her back with his quiet laugh. “She used to tell me she snuck out through that window too.”

She pursed her lips at the memory. “Used to scare the life out of me to find her gone. Where on earth did the two of you go?”

“Usually down to the docks.”

By the riverfront. Janey loved being down by the water. Before their mother got sick, they used to camp there every weekend.

Dillon gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. “This house is yours, Em.”

Her momentary good mood fell. She wished. “Was.” Her heart hung heavy.

His head came down beside her ear, his warm breath fanning her cheek. “The new owner? Is me.” He straightened and his body pressed against her back again. “I discovered it in the paper a week ago. I made the old guy an offer he couldn’t refuse.”

She stood frozen, her heart pounding in her throat. Dillon’s surprise suddenly took on a whole new level. “Why would you buy this house?”

“Because it’s
yours
. You love this house.”

Had she heard him correctly? Not daring to believe her ears, she turned to face him, stared at him and shook her head. “I’m afraid I’m not following you.”

Those dark eyes burned into hers. “I didn’t buy this house for
me
.”

When his meaning sank in, a shocked sort of numbness stole over her, and she turned a slow circle, taking in the space around her. “You bought this house.”

“Yes.”

“For
me
?”

“For you.”

The tenderness in his voice got to her. Tears sprang, unbidden, to her eyes. She faced him again and searched his gaze, her voice wobbling when she spoke. “Why would you do that?”

He touched her chin, his fingers stroking her skin. “Because it’s been in your family for three generations. It shouldn’t belong to anyone else.”

His words to her before they’d left his house combined with the tenderness in his eyes now seeped inside and wrapped around her heart. Emotion clogged her throat. She had no idea what to say to him. A simple gesture, something only a rich man could get away with, but the sweetness of it overwhelmed her. Her eyes filled and overflowed before she could stop them.

Dillon reached out and drew her to him. She threw her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. For an extended moment in time, she allowed herself the luxury of clinging to his big, warm body and the safe feeling his embrace gave her.

“The paperwork hasn’t gone through yet.” His voice rumbled beneath her ear. “So I have to give the keys back tonight, but in about a month or so, this place is yours, free and clear.”

She lifted her head to look up into the dark eyes that had become so familiar. “I
will
pay you back.”

He cupped her face in warm, soft hands and swiped his thumbs across her cheeks, wiping away the tears. “No, you won’t. It’s a gift. Because I can.” One side of his mouth quirked up. “Being a spoiled rich boy isn’t without its benefits. Now this house can stay in your family, where it belongs.”

His statement floored her. She’d underestimated him. He just told her, beyond any doubt, that he knew what this house meant to her, that he understood what she had to give up when she sold it, and he gave it back to her. If this didn’t prove she was wrong about him all these years, she didn’t know what did.

“You’re a surprise at every turn, you know that?” She smiled.

He leaned down and pressed his nose to hers. “I won’t say I told you so.” Then he released her and took her hand. He tugged on her arm and turned, walking out of the room. “Come on. Let’s go see what else they did to the house. I think I remember his wife mentioning they rebuilt the gazebo in the backyard.”

Chapter Ten

Emma’s heart hung heavy. Annie lay on a blanket on the floor in the center of the living room. She and Dillon stood together by the front door. He had his hands tucked casually into his pockets, his gaze soft. She didn’t want to say good-bye. To either of them.

They’d spent a good hour at her mother’s house, exploring the rooms, sharing memories. Mostly, she talked and he listened, holding her hand while they walked through the rooms and eventually out into the gazebo in the backyard. The rest of the afternoon was spent simply—talking, laughing, and playing with Annie.

Like a family.

The more the hours drifted on, the more the closeness between them grew. The recognition of it echoed back at her from the depths of his eyes every time he looked at her. It was odd to feel the connection with him, warm yet familiar. That sense of having come home grabbed her again, lodging deep in the pit of her stomach.

Staring at him now, she was at a loss for words. How did she describe her gratitude for what he gave her today? He gave her back her heritage, a part of her mother. He was also right. The entire morning had divested them of whatever unease had lingered from yesterday. She’d never felt so close to anyone the way she did to him right then.

“Nobody’s ever done anything like that for me before, you know.” The gesture had melted her right out of her shoes and permanently wrapped itself around her heart.

He shook his head, a deep crease forming between his brows. “Then you’ve been dating the wrong guys.”

With a boldness brought out by an overwhelming need to show her appreciation, she closed the distance between them. With one hand braced against his chest, she leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.