Father And Child Reunion Part 2 (36 Hours Serieal Book 6.2) Page 6

  “Because you’re her mother, and you were right. We don’t know much about each other. I know where you work, but I know nothing of what you do in Santa Barbara other than that. I don’t know what part of the city you live in. What you do in your spare time. I don’t even know if you have a boyfriend.”

  Her expression remained encouraging—until he added that last one.

  “Does that matter?”

  “The boyfriend?”

  She gave him a nod.

  “You’re concerned about the influence I can have on her,” he pointed out. “If some guy is part of Molly’s life, then yes, I think it does. Who you associate with affects her, doesn’t it?”

  There was no challenge in his tone, no interest beyond whatever influence some nebulous male might have over his daughter. She couldn’t even detect the offense Rio surely must have felt when she’d all but said she knew little now about his character.

  Looping the towel the rest of the way through the handle, Eve supposed his questions were every bit as reasonable as he made them sound. As adamant as she had been about needing to know him before telling Molly who he was, she could hardly deny him equal knowledge about the person raising his daughter.

  When she turned back, Rio had leaned against the counter. With his arms crossed over his chest and his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, he appeared fully prepared to stay put until he got what he was after.

  He wouldn’t have to stay long, she thought, twirling a piece of lint from the towel as she leaned against the opposite counter herself. The story was as short as it was uninspiring.

  It took her all of a minute to detail a life that included little other than work, an occasional class toward a necessary design certification, and the demands of a preschooler. She had a friend, a designer, too, who was raising two children by herself, and they would take the kids places together. And a couple of times a month, she and Molly would go to her aunt and uncle’s house for dinner. Before Molly was born, she’d stayed with her mother’s older brother and his wife, her mom’s only relatives. Between preschool and day care, and tumbling class or T-ball on Saturdays, as well as the requisite weekend chores, there was little money, and less time, for anything else.

  “As for a boyfriend,” she concluded, thinking how boring her life must sound to him, “I’ve never had one. And while we’re at it,” she continued, thinking now as good a time as any to get off that subject and to satisfy her own curiosity, “what happened to the girl your mother told me about?”

  Rio’s eyes were hooded, his expression thoughtful as he scanned her face. She was beginning to feel distinctly disadvantaged whenever he looked at her that way. Mostly because she never knew what he was looking for. She always had the feeling, too, that whatever it was, he found it.

  “Fawn was my mother’s idea. She was a nice girl. She still is,” he added easily, wondering if Eve realized what she’d just revealed. “I’m sure she makes my brother an excellent wife. But I wasn’t interested in her, or in marriage. My mother knew that.”

  “She married your brother?”

  He nodded, unfolding himself. “They have three children. Two girls and a boy.”

  “Isn’t that awkward?”

  “Having three children?”

  She shot him a bland look as he slowly crossed toward her. “Your brother being married to someone who wanted to marry you.”

  “I don’t know that she was especially interested in me.” She’d seemed to be, but all Rio had cared about that summer was that Fawn wasn’t Eve, and that Eve had been nowhere to be found. He’d even returned early to college to keep his mother from pushing the poor girl at him—then stayed away for nearly three years for reasons that went far beyond that single incident. “But that has nothing to do with what we were discussing.”

  Eve was still leaning against the beige counter, her back to the glass-faced dish cabinets. Rio had stopped in front of her.

  They were talking about matters that affected Molly, Eve reminded herself. Not about what had happened between the two of them. Tipping her head to meet his eyes, she supposed she could point out that his mother’s interference was hardly irrelevant to their present circumstances. But that little fact didn’t change what Eve had done in the first place, or what they’d been left to deal with now. That was clearly all that mattered to Rio.

  “I don’t know what else to tell you,” she said. “Except that I’ll do whatever I have to do to see that Molly is taken care of. I always have.”

  “And you’ve always done that alone?”

  Eve wasn’t sure why she didn’t trust the question. Maybe it was the mild way he posed it. Or maybe it was just because Rio was close enough that she could feel the latent tension in his body. The curious way he was watching her made her feel as if he thought there was something she wasn’t telling him. Or that he didn’t believe something she had already said. Whatever it was, it suddenly felt very necessary to make it clear he would never have reason to worry about how she took care of their daughter.

  “There’s something you need to understand,” she began, her deliberate calm an indication of how badly she wanted to preserve the ground they’d gained this evening. “When I told Mom I was keeping Molly, she didn’t try to change my mind. But she did make sure I understood what keeping her meant. It meant trading the freedom I would have had to go on with my life for the responsibility of raising her.

  “I was luckier than most girls would have been in my circumstances,” she continued, all too aware of how differently her life could have turned out had it not been for her mother. “Mom was both willing and able to help me financially. After I told her what had happened with your mother, she told me she’d pay for college or a trade school and help me support the baby until I graduated. But she also made me promise that Molly would always be my first priority. Molly would be my first priority even if I hadn’t made that promise. She is and always has been. You don’t need to worry about her.”

  It was apparent to Rio that Eve hadn’t understood why he’d asked what he had. It had never occurred to him to question her commitment to Molly. Time and again, as he’d watched her with the child, he’d been drawn by the strength of the bond between them. Even tonight, especially tonight, he’d been conscious of the interaction between mother and daughter. Though he and Molly had spent most of the time talking, it had been Eve who Molly had turned to when she’d wanted a hand to hold, and when she’d grown tired. Just before they’d left the park, Molly had crawled onto the bench where her mother had sat watching them and laid her head in Eve’s lap. He’d been aware of how Eve had automatically begun to stroke the child’s hair, and how Molly’s eyes had immediately closed. He’d been aware, too, that the gesture had seemed to give as much comfort to Eve as to the child.

  He didn’t think it at all unusual that he should notice such things. Not when he was so aware of her in every other way. What had surprised him was the comfort he’d felt, too, just being with them. Being with her. But as he absorbed what she’d said just now, it wasn’t those few fragile moments of peace he considered. Or how long it had been since he’d felt such calm. It was how indebted Eve felt to her mother—and what she may have denied herself to keep his child.

  “I’ve never doubted how good a mother you are. That’s not what I was questioning at all. You said a minute ago that you never had a boyfriend,” he added, explaining the direction his thoughts had taken. “I was just wondering if you meant that the way it sounded. That’s why I’d asked if you’d always taken care of her by yourself.”

  Caution replaced defense. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Never is an absolute.” His tone became amazingly innocent. “Didn’t I count?”

  “Of course you did. I meant there’d been no one…”

  Rio thought she flushed when she cut herself off. He couldn’t be sure because she ducked her head, suddenly developing a fascination with the piece of lint she’d rolled into a little ball. All he
could see were the pale shades of gold gleaming in her hair.

  He should let it go. But what he should do didn’t matter all that much to him at the moment. A need buried deep inside demanded an answer.

  He lifted his hand, hesitating long enough to be certain that he couldn’t change his mind before slipping his fingers beneath her chin. Ignoring the way she went still at the contact, he tipped her head up with his thumb.

  “There’d been no one…what?”

  He wasn’t being fair. Eve might have told him that, too, had the feel of his fingers stroking her throat not paralyzed her vocal chords. She wasn’t even sure he knew he was doing it, not as intently as he was watching her.

  “There’s been no one since me?” he cautiously suggested.

  “Relationships take time.”

  “And you’ve never had any time to spare.”

  Considering what she’d just told him, that would have been the most obvious conclusion. Not sure he was going to believe that was her only reason, praying he would, she started to shake her head, but the motion threatened to move his thumb to the corner of her mouth. Instead, she simply whispered, “No.”

  She knew what she was admitting; that he was the only man she’d ever been with. Why that mattered to him, she had no idea. Or even if it did. She only knew that the knowledge did something disturbing to his dark, fathomless eyes.

  That disturbing gaze held hers, probing, questioning, making the air seem too thin to breathe. Then his glance slowly slipped to her mouth. An unsteady heartbeat later, she felt his fingers drift down her throat.

  She swallowed, the motion causing the delicate chords in her neck to convulse. Rio’s eyes met hers again. Only this time, she didn’t see questions. What she saw was something primal and fierce and far too edgy for the smooth tones of his deep voice.

  “Relationships do take time.” He skimmed the hollow at the base of her throat. Beneath his finger, her pulse leapt. “Sex is the easy part.”

  She couldn’t argue his conclusion. It took time to get to know someone; to build trust. Or rebuild it. The latter was much harder, really. But the thought had scarcely occurred to Eve when she felt Rio’s hand move along her collarbone.

  “We had a relationship once.” His eyes glittered over her face, frustration charged with heat. “The trouble is, I don’t know where to go with it now. Do I take up where we left off, start over or forget I ever laid eyes on you again? If it weren’t for Molly…”

  He cut himself off, looking like a man torn as he followed the motion of his fingers.

  “If it weren’t for Molly,” Eve concluded, her pulse skittering, “you wouldn’t be here right now.”

  A muscle in his jaw jerked. “We don’t know that for certain, do we?”

  They couldn’t know what would have happened had the past been any different. All they had to work with was the present, and the present was getting more complicated by the second.

  Rio’s fingers sank into her hair. Drawing her forward, he tipped her head up. “Unfortunately, forgetting you doesn’t seem to be an option.”

  His last words were spoken as his head descended, the rasp of his voice seeming to vibrate through her when his mouth touched hers. The contact was little more than the brush of skin and breath against her lips before he pulled back far enough to see the questions in her eyes. He did it again, seeming to test either her resolve or his own willpower before she whispered his name.

  She didn’t know who leaned forward first. One moment his name was on her lips. The next his mouth crushed hers, and she forgot to breathe.

  His mouth felt hot and hard. So did his body when he pulled her up against him, molding her hips to his, her breasts to his chest. Beyond that, beyond him, her senses failed. She was aware of nothing but the feel of his lips softening against hers, the groan deep in his chest when her tongue touched his, and the heady feel of his hands sliding down her back. She could taste frustration, but she could taste hunger, too, and passion. And a kind of pent-up longing that seemed to fuel it all.

  Her heart recognized that longing. Her body recognized him. Aching for what was once familiar, she curved her arms around his neck, seeking his lean, hard contours. But he was bigger than she remembered, more overwhelming, and the familiarity she’d sought wasn’t there at all. Instead, she discovered the rocklike strength she craved.

  In the space of a heartbeat, long-buried yearnings careened to the surface. It had been six years since she’d been held like this. Six years since his arms had been around her. At the thought, something like a sob caught in her throat.

  Hearing it, Rio went still.

  He lifted his head, recrimination warring with desire as he searched her eyes. He looked like a man in pain when he brushed his thumb over her bottom lip.

  “I wasn’t going to do that,” he said, his breathing as erratic as her own.

  Pulling her hands from his shoulders, he held them between his. But whatever else he’d been about to say was cut off by the ring of the telephone. Eve couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so grateful for an interruption. Exposed as she felt at that moment, she didn’t think she’d be able to stand it if he apologized.

  Rio’s hands slipped from hers as he stepped back. Shoving his fingers through his hair, he picked up the receiver from the phone beneath the cabinet and held it out to her.

  “I’m leaving,” he said, his voice low. “Think about us taking Molly to the park again after work Wednesday, and I’ll call you later.”

  “Wait!”

  Looking from him to the phone, she took the call long enough to discover Millicent on the other end of the line and to ask her to hang on a minute before covering the mouthpiece with her palm.

  “Wednesday won’t be good,” she told him, determined to sound as unaffected as he did about what had just happened. “A man is coming by about seven-thirty to look at Mom’s car. He might buy it.”

  “Somebody you know?”

  “Not personally,” she returned, unsure why he wanted to know. “He’s a friend of the gardener’s neighbor’s cousin.”

  “Now, there’s a recommendation.” His brow knitted, his thoughts in conflict once again. “Can you handle that? I mean, you won’t let him lowball you on the price?”

  She hadn’t thought about it. That was apparent from her hesitation.

  Rio’s mental struggle lasted another half-dozen seconds before resignation slipped over the hard angles of his face. “If I don’t talk to you before, I’ll be here Wednesday. Before seven-thirty.” He pointed to the phone to remind her she had a caller waiting. Looking sorely tempted to do what he’d done just moments ago, seeming just as determined not to do it again, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and headed for the front door.

  Chapter Seven

  The potential buyer of Olivia’s two-year-old sedan arrived right on time. Rio did not. Eve told herself she wasn’t worried, though. She could handle this. She just wished the wiry, middle-aged man who’d introduced himself as a mechanic wouldn’t wink at her every time he caught her eye.

  Standing in the driveway, she watched him hitch up his jeans as he walked around the car. After poking his head under the hood, he got in and started it up. A moment later, he got out, opened the hood again, winked once more and started frowning and humming to himself.

  Her confidence faltered. He was going to want to take the car for a drive. She didn’t know why she hadn’t considered that before, but she did know she didn’t want to give a virtual stranger the keys and let him go off alone. There was no way, however, that she would put herself and Molly in the car with that man, either.

  That bit of certainty was met with undeniable relief when she saw Rio’s black Durango round the corner and pull to a stop at the curb.

  The mechanic must have thought he had competition for the car. Rio had no sooner come up beside Eve than the man at the hood motioned her over and told her what he’d give her for it. The offer wasn’t for very much, but he said he couldn’t
do any better than that because the car needed extensive work on its turbo.

  The make of car in question didn’t have a turbo, something Eve wouldn’t have known had Rio not quietly pointed it out when the self-proclaimed mechanic got back inside the car to rev the engine again. She wouldn’t have cared about the lack, either, had the guy not been trying to do exactly what Rio had suspected he might.

  The man had already known that the vehicle was being sold by a young woman, but he’d taken one look at Eve and assumed she’d be a pushover. Eve realized that the moment he called out, “So what’ll it be, little lady?” About the time he added that he’d be happy to take this burden off of her hands, she also realized that there was more to selling a car than getting the value of the vehicle from a book at the bank and expecting people to be fair with their offers.

  She understood negotiating. She did it all the time with furniture and fabric buyers. She was even getting pretty good at it. But when it came to her mother’s possessions, she just couldn’t stomach the haggling.

  The fact that Rio suspected as much was obvious when he bent his head to hers.

  “Do you want me to handle this?” he asked, his voice little more than a whisper of air near her ear.

  She pulled back, aware of the smaller man watching them, though he couldn’t hear anything Rio had said.

  “It’s Mom’s car,” she returned, just as quietly. “I should do it.”

  Should, she’d said, which Rio knew explained a lot about why she’d refused, however graciously, to accept anyone else’s help with all she had to do. This was an obligation, a responsibility. And she was repaying a debt.