The SEAL's Second Chance Baby (14 page)

“True. But here's the thing. On the way over, Gramps and I got into it. He thinks I should marry you, and I—”

“Oh, no.” She stepped back. “Grandma's been giving me the same grief. I'm so sorry.”

“What do you have to apologize for? It's not your idea.”

“I know, but I'm not some damsel in distress, waiting for a prince to charge in on his white stallion.”

“That's a relief.” He exhaled, then shot her a sexy grin that flip-flopped her tummy. “All I have is a chestnut and an old black Ford.”

“At least it's not a Chevy.” She winked.

He rewarded her humor with another kiss. “Here's the thing. As crazy as it sounds, maybe we should make things more official? You and your boys could use a man around the house, and I sure could use a few decent meals.”

“What about love?” Her pulse charged off at a gallop. She didn't love him, did she? How could she be sure? She'd loved Moody heart and soul, but look how that turned out. Maybe love was overrated? Old-fashioned? Maybe the excited rush between her legs was more than enough reason to agree to spend the rest of her nights with this man?

He shrugged. “It'll come. Hell, maybe I'm halfway there? All I know is that after church, when I drove away from you instead of toward you, it brought on awful indigestion. Both of our grandparents wasted a lot of time. I don't want to reach their age and wonder what happened to my life. Since the day you saved me from that snakebite, I've seen you as my own personal angel. Nothing would make me happier than for us to move in together, and you be my steady girl.”

His steady girl? As in
girlfriend
? Not bride? Effie's heart sank.
Silly rabbit, of course he doesn't want to permanently hitch himself to you.
Moody hadn't. Why would Marsh?

“What's wrong? You look pale. If I'm moving too fast, say the word.”

Moving too fast?
She was the one who'd assumed he was proposing marriage after having only known her a few weeks. If anything, she was the one moving them along at lightning speed. Considering her misgivings about them sharing anything at all, she should be happy about this turn of events. But the truth of the matter was that she felt as if one of those biscuits she was supposed to have been making had lodged in the back of her throat. She didn't want to be Marsh's girlfriend. She wanted to be his lover and best friend and so much more. But how did she tell him that when even she wasn't sure? And where did her boys and Cassidy fit into this awkward mix? As the mother of three impressionable young children, she wasn't the ideal candidate for
shacking up
.

“I'm sorry. Shit. I misread this whole situation. Forget I said anything.”

“Marsh, here's the deal. I obviously like you—a lot. But it's not just my feelings I have to consider. Please don't think I'm pressuring you, but I can't have you moving in here without some sort of permanent commitment. I'd hardly consider myself to be a saint, but...”

“No need to explain. I understand.”

Do you? Can you read between the lines to see that in another life, I would give anything in the world to be your girlfriend, but that now, I need and deserve more?

“We should probably get back outside. There's no telling what trouble Colt's got into.” He turned to leave the room.

“Aw, Marsh, wait.”

“No. I'm good.” His backward wave had her worrying her lower lip. At the moment, she was anything but
good
.

“Cass,” she whispered to the baby, “what have I done?”

Chapter Fifteen

Marsh worked through
the afternoon on autopilot.

He suffered through lunch while sandwiched between the two boys to whom he wanted to be a father. He stood alongside his grandfather, washing dishes while listening to an endless round of upcoming wedding plans. He even changed Cassidy's diaper when Effie's hands were literally tied up with helping her grandmother make rice bag wedding favors.

Initially, his speech to Effie had rocked right along. She'd sure seemed into him when they'd kissed. So what had happened to change her tune?

By “permanent commitment,” he assumed she meant no more fooling around before marriage, but he wasn't ready for that huge of a step. He didn't know when he would be—if ever. So where did that leave them?

Marsh had been ready to leave for a good hour, but his grandfather was now engrossed in a Dallas Cowboys game. So here he sat, bouncing Cassidy on his knee while the women played wedding. How different would the day have played out had he done something crazy like asking Effie to marry him? Would he then be looking to this baby girl's future? Knowing he'd be along for the ride?

“Mr. Marsh?” Remington asked.

“That's me.”

“Colt wants to know if you want to come ride bikes.”

“I would love to,” Marsh said, thrilled for the opportunity to escape. “Since your mom's busy, what should I do with your sister?”

“Put her in her walker. She likes it.” Remington rolled over the giant toy.

Marsh settled her on the plastic seat, but Cassidy wasn't having it and started to cry. The instant Marsh hefted her back into his arms, save for the tears still shining on her cheeks, her cranky mood was gone.

“Leave her with me,” Effie said.

“No way,” Mabel said. “I need your young hands for knot tying. Marsh, will you be a dear and keep the baby with you?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“You don't have to,” Effie argued.

“What if I want to?” he snapped back.

Wallace whistled. “Would you two knock it off? You just jabbered over my play-by-play.”

Marsh ignored the baby's mother and his grandfather to walk out the front door.

“Come on, Mr. Marsh! Cassidy can ride, too!”

“I don't know about that.” Marsh winced when he got a face full of afternoon sun. “How about I just watch you and Colt?”

“Okay!” Remington ran toward the barn.

Marsh had just passed his truck when Effie bolted from the house.

“I told you I'd keep the baby.” After lunch, she'd changed from her church dress to frayed jean shorts that hugged her derriere a little too well. Her pale blue T-shirt enhanced not only her eyes, but womanly portions of her anatomy that he wouldn't mind revisiting.

He asked, “How long are you going to do this?”

“Do what?” She shielded her eyes from the sun.

“Treat me like a bad guy for asking you to be my steady. I'm sorry, okay? Can we just go back to being friends?”

“No.” She reached for the baby, but he wasn't ready to give her up.

“Why not?”

“Because I want more.” Hands on her hips, she added, “I'm worth more.”

“But by your own admission, not only are you not ready for this elusive
more
, but you might not ever be. Where does that leave me?” The woman's logic made his teeth hurt.

“I—I don't know.” Aw, hell. Now, she was crying. “Maybe I do want to be married again one day—just not to an admittedly no-good cowboy like you.”

“Exactly.” While the boys were still in the barn, he drew Effie around to the side of his truck shielded from the house and barn. Once he had her partially hidden, he nuzzled her neck in the way he knew drove her wild. “Hitching your wagon to mine would be bad.”

“Uh-huh...
oh
.” She gasped when he slid his palm under her shirt and up her waist to cop a feel of the assets that had driven him crazy for hours.

Lord, Effie felt good and tasted even better. The lack of blood flow to his brain was making him crazy—or maybe that would be crazier?

Cassidy cooed and kicked against him.

“We shouldn't be doing this in front of the baby.” Effie drew back to fuss with her clothes and hair. “Give her to me, and I'll run her inside.”

Tired of arguing, he passed Cassidy into Effie's outstretched arms. Even the trade-off caused pressure beneath his fly. This situation was no good. “To clarify—are you essentially saying you never want to have sex again before marriage?”

She froze. “Did I say that?”

“So basically, I'm good enough to sleep with, you just don't want me around your kids?”

“I didn't say that, either.”

“So what did you say?”

“Stop.” She pressed her free hand to her forehead. “Your needling is darn near as bad as Mabel's. Bottom line, I guess maybe I am ready to marry you, Marsh Langtree, but all you want is a roll in the hay.”

“Point of fact—I'd prefer a roll in your nice, soft bed. But only after I get you an air conditioner.”

“You're not getting me anything.”

“Actually—” his hands were back on her hips “—I think for once, I'm going to throw caution far into the wind and buy you an air conditioner
and
a pretty ring. Then I'm going to stand you up before God and our grandparents and the rest of our family and friends to make an honest woman out of you. What would you think about that?”

Those eyes of hers that had always reminded him of the deepest part of the Indian Ocean swallowed him whole. As if jumping from a battleship's bow, he plunged headfirst into a terrifying, yet strangely exhilarating new future. Suddenly he couldn't wait to be a husband again. And a father. Every inch of him looked forward to raising Cassidy and her brothers. Was he ready? Hell, no. But was he willing to take his new life day by day to figure it out? Hell, yes.

“You're killing me, Eff. Am I ever getting an answer?”

“All right—yes.” Holding Cassidy sideways on her hip, Effie crushed him in a crooked hug, then kissed him. “But don't you dare break my heart—or my kids'.”

“Never.” He held up his hand. “Scout's honor.”

“I'm gonna need better than that.” Her stern look pinned him to the side of his truck as if her gaze were a great big tractor.

He kissed her. “As a man, as a SEAL, as a gentleman cowboy, I, Marsh Langtree, promise to never hurt you, Ms. Effie Washington, or your beautiful children.”

“I believe you.” Her eyes shone, but in a way he hadn't seen before—as if she were projecting happiness from the inside out. This time when they kissed, he detected a subtle change that made all the difference. In an instant, she had officially become his and he was hers, and far from that being scary, it was somehow liberating. “Let's tell the boys.”

He took her hand on the brief trip to the barn.

Remington emerged wearing his bike helmet and enough pads to cover damn near every inch of bare skin on his body.

“Look at you,” Marsh said. “I'm liking your protection. You look like a knight decked out in armor.”

“Thanks!” The kid beamed, then took safety glasses from his cargo shorts pocket. “I got these, too, so my eyeballs don't fall out.”

“Perfect.”

Colt zoomed out of the barn on his bike. He wore only his T-shirt, shorts, boots and the wind.

“Whoa.” Effie grabbed his handlebars. “Where are your helmet, knee and elbow pads?”

“Those are dumb!” He wrestled free and tore off to the end of the driveway.

Remington tentatively followed.

“Colt!” Marsh shouted. “Get back here and do what your mom said.”

“Don't have to! You're not my dad!”

“I'm sorry,” Effie said. “If you want to back out now, before we make anything official, I'd understand.”

“Not a chance.” He kissed her sweet lips and Cassidy's rosy cheek before striding down the dirt drive.

“Mr. Marsh!” Remington shouted from the road. “Look at me! No hands!”

“Cool. But take it easy.” Even though the twins rode matching dirt bikes well suited for the bumpy road, Marsh didn't feel comfortable about Remington's hotdogging.

“I'm way better!” Colt zoomed past, holding his hands higher than his brother's.

“Not so fast, buddy.” Just past the mailbox, Marsh jogged to catch up with Colt, snagging the bike by the back of the seat. “We need to talk.”

“I wanna ride my bike.”

“Fair enough, but listen to me first. You just told me I can't tell you what to do, because I'm not your dad. But what if I'm your stepdad?”

Colt's gaze narrowed, and he scrunched his nose. “What's that mean?”

“I'm going to marry your mom, and you, me, Remington and Cassidy are all going to be a family. So how about you ride back to the barn to grab your helmet and pads like your mom asked.”

“I don't want to.”

“That's not what I said.” Starting today, Colt's combative attitude was going to end. Marsh had already made headway, but there was still plenty of room for improvement.

“Are you really gonna be our new dad?” Remington asked. “Like forever? You're not going to leave like our real dad?”

“Nope.”

Remington scrambled off his bike to ambush Marsh in a hug. The boy's strength caught him off guard, but not as much as the force of his own emotional walls breaking down. His proposal to Effie might have seemed sudden, but in reality, since the day he'd woken in the hospital surrounded by her and her rowdy crew, his soul must have recognized they were just what he needed to find a new home. Only that home wasn't a place, but family.

His
family.

“I don't believe you.” Colt climbed off his bike and let it fall to the ground. He crossed his arms. “Just like our dad, you're gonna leave, because you don't love us as much as Mommy does.”

“Probably not.
Yet.
” He'd been around Colt enough to know he rarely called Effie Mommy. When he did, Marsh's guess was that he was dealing with more emotions than his little brain could compute. To Marsh's way of thinking, his primary job was to ensure Effie's boys—his boys—never again had to worry about anything other than being kids. “But I figure the more time we spend with each other, the better things will be.”

“Maybe.” Colt kicked a clod of dirt.

“What do you say? Could you please put on a helmet for your mom? I know you're an awesome bike rider and don't need it, but she worries. You don't want to make her worry, right?”

“I s'pose not.”

“Awesome. Thanks.” Marsh picked up Colt's bike to wheel it toward the garage.

“Mr. Marsh?”

“Yep...”

“If you marry my mom, does that mean you'll come live with us?”

“Yessir...”

“Can me and Remington's ponies come, too?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay, then. Guess it's all right if you marry my mom.”

“Thank you for your permission. It means a lot to me that the man of the house approves—you are the oldest, right?”

Colt nodded, then took off running toward his mom. “Guess what?”

“What?” she asked.

“Mr. Marsh said our ponies get to come live here!”

“That's great, hon. Did he say anything else?” She looked to Marsh. Was she worried about how her boys had taken the wedding news?

“He's gonna marry you and stay forever, but since I'm the man in this house, I gotta put my helmet on so you don't worry.”

“Oh...” Struggling not to grin, she nodded. “That makes sense. Thank you. I hate to worry.”

“You're welcome.”

“Damn.” Once both boys were in the barn, Marsh exhaled. “For a second there, I worried Colt might challenge me to a duel, but, knock on wood, I think everything's going to be all right.”

“Effie May Washington!” Mabel shouted from the front porch. “What in the world is taking you so long? My wedding's in only two weeks, and we have to get these rice bags done.”

“Coming!” Effie shouted back.

“Woman...” Marsh groaned. “Do you know how much I wish I could make that statement true?”

“Get your mind out of the gutter.” She might have scolded him, but she couldn't hide her pretty pink flush.

“This all happened pretty fast, but we have a few logistics to go over. First, do you want to join Mabel and Wallace on their big day?”

She shook her head. “Honestly, I'd rather keep it small—maybe just the two of us at the courthouse.”

“You wouldn't want to include the boys and Cass?”

“I don't know. I mean, do you think we should? Or is this grown-up business?”

“It's family thing, and honestly, once our moms get wind of our engagement—since they'll both already be here for the wedding—my guess is that they'd both be miffed not to be included.”

“I'll bet you're right. But where would I even start? I don't have a dress, and would Grandma's feelings be hurt if I share in her bridal spotlight?”

“Didn't you tell me she'd been harping on you about a double wedding?”

“Well, sure, but...”

“Relax.” He drew her and the baby into a hug. “Promise, nothing's going to go wrong.”
I hope.
Marsh had made a ton of bold claims in the past hour, but could he back them up? He wanted nothing more than to be the man and father Effie and her kids so badly needed. In the heat of moment, he'd meant everything he'd said—still did. Time would be the ultimate judge on whether this would pan out to be the best or worst decision he'd ever made.

* * *

D
URING
HALFTIME
OF
Wallace's game, Effie muted the TV.

“Hey, what's the deal?” Wallace complained. “Shakira's about to sing.”