The Marine's Babies (Men Made In America) Page 10

  “You’re being silly,” Emma said, quick to brush off Jace’s admission. Why? Because essentially, she felt the same about him, and the notion scared her to her core. “You’d be just fine without me.” She, on the other hand, without him, would be devastated to the point that she wasn’t sure if she’d ever regain her sanity. “Just hire someone else.”

  “Luckily for me, you’re not going anywhere. I hope.”

  Yanking her hand free, she asked, “Is that what this is about? Your sudden show of affection? You fearing I might be leaving, and you’re coming on to me to make me stay?”

  His dark expression was lethal. “You owe me an apology.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, “but you have to know that this job isn’t just work to me. I can’t get into it now, but trust me when I say that you and the girls mean the world to me. This job has been a blessing in more ways than I can possibly say. To even think you may just be toying with my emotions…” She looked down at her hands to see that she’d gripped them together so tightly that some blood had seeped onto her bandage’s outer layer.

  “You don’t think there’s as much at stake for me? I haven’t been involved with anyone for years. Then, all of a sudden you and the girls pop into my life and I’m smitten. For the first time in I can’t remember when, I actually want to come home at night. Do you have any idea how amazing that feels?”

  “Y-yes,” Emma managed. “I know, because I feel the same. Only, I guess, in reverse.”

  Expelling a rush of air, Jace covered his face with his hands.

  “What? My admission isn’t sitting well?”

  “It’s not that,” he said, lowering his hands and shaking his head. “I just can’t believe how much my life has changed in such a short time. My main goals used to be flying hard, drinking harder—anything to outrun the loneliness.”

  “You’re a great guy,” Emma said, “why were you lonely?”

  “Because I chose to be. Because the thought of getting hurt again was too much for me to handle.”

  Leaning toward him, taking the liberty of curving her fingers around his forearm, she asked, “What happened?”

  Etching a pattern into the condensation on his tea glass, he took a few seconds to compose his thoughts. “In college, I met the woman I thought was the love of my life. In our spare time, we did everything together. Rock-climbing, scuba, studying for our classes. We were both engineering majors. She always got better grades than me, but I didn’t care. I was so proud that she wanted to be with me over all of the other guys in our mostly male class.”

  “Sounds idyllic,” Emma said, a knot in her stomach over where this might be heading.

  “It was. Graduation day, I asked her to marry me. She accepted. My frat brothers threw us a huge blow-out of an engagement party. My best friend, Lyle, set up everything. Band, food, plenty of ball-and-chain decorations.” Staring wistfully across the dimly lit restaurant, Jace said, “I asked him to be my best man.”

  “I’m guessing from your tone he wasn’t the best best man.”

  Jace let loose with a sarcastic snort. “Not really.”

  “Uh-oh…” Emma frowned along with Jace, irrationally upset with a man she didn’t even know. “What did he do?”

  “Basically, my bride.”

  Emma blanched at Jace’s crudeness, but couldn’t blame him for being bitter.

  “It’s such a cliché. The bride getting caught going at it with the best man hours before the wedding. They were in my folks’ pool house. Mom caught them. Thank God, it wasn’t me, or I’m not sure what I might’ve done.”

  “No wonder you’re relationship-shy. Talk about the ultimate betrayal. Where are they now?”

  Chuckling, Jace said, “Last I heard, married to each other. Living in Ohio with three kids.”

  “Was it any consolation knowing that they at least stayed together?”

  “No.” A muscle ticked in Jace’s square jaw.

  “I’m sorry. No one should have to go through something like that. Least of all on what’s supposed to be the happiest day of your life.”

  “Tell me about it.” Forcing a deep breath and easing the fingers of his right hand between those of her left, Jace said, “But hey, enough gloom and doom. Finding each other—even if we turn out to be just friends—that’s a good thing.”

  Smiling, not even trying to calm her runaway pulse, Emma said, “I couldn’t agree more.”

  The waitress arrived with their bucket, covering the table with plastic before inviting Jace to do the honor of dumping the contents. Crab legs and peel-and-eat shrimp, potato chunks and corn-cob sections tumbled out, with a sinfully delicious smell of brine and Cajun spice.

  “Hope you’re hungry,” Jace said after the waitress had returned with crusty French bread and plenty of drawn butter.

  “Starving.” She grabbed a crab leg, cracking it in half.

  “You look like a pro. Eat these a lot?”

  “In another life.”

  “Want to tell me about it?”

  Her chest tightened. What should she say? Part of her very much wanted to share her pain with this man she suspected might actually understand her. Another part wanted to compartmentalize the grief that had for so long shut her down.

  “Em?” Jace prompted. “You all right?”

  “Fine,” she said automatically.

  “I know that’s a bad sign.”

  Shaking off his concern, she reached for another crab leg. “I’ll tell you some time. Just not now.”

  “Fair enough.” He acted as if her not telling all wasn’t a big deal, but the cheerless turn of his lips told a different story.

  “I’m sorry. After you’ve just shared such an intimate part of your life with me, I…” she toyed with the pincers on one of her crab legs.

  “Did someone hurt you?” he asked, leaning in close. “Because if they did, so help me, I’ll—”

  “It’s nothing like that,” she said, touched by his visceral reaction to her pain. It was a familiar feeling, considering she’d done the same upon hearing how badly Jace had been hurt. “But thank you for your concern.”

  He nodded.

  “One day, I promise I’ll be strong enough to share. Just not now. I’m getting better every day, but…”

  “Don’t sweat it.”

  “But—”

  Whisper-soft, he placed his index finger to her lips. “We’re good. When—if—you’re ready to tell me whatever’s on your mind, I’ll be here.”

  SATURDAY NIGHT in Jace’s backyard, Granola asked, “She didn’t even give you a clue as to what’s bugging her?”

  “Not a word.” Flipping the steaks, Jace backed away from the smoke when meat drippings caused the gas grill to flare. “But it’s cool.”

  Jace smacked a mosquito whining near his ear.

  “No, man,” Granola argued, “it’s not. What do you really know about this woman?” He swigged his beer.

  “She’s great to me and my girls. That’s all I need to know.”

  “Heard anything from your PI?”

  “Nope.” Jace chugged some beer from his own longneck bottle.

  “What’re you going to do?”

  Jace shrugged. “Been thinking about firing the guy. Going with someone new.”

  “You talk to Emma about that?”

  “Nope.” Jace shifted the steaks away from the highest flame.

  “Pam says your gal’s pretty smitten with the twins. Like they’re an addiction.”

  Jace shot his old friend a dark look. “What the hell’s that mean?”

  “Nothing.” Granola took another deep swig. “Forget I said anything.”

  “How am I supposed to ignore a dig like that?” Jace gripped his beer so hard, he was surprised the bottle didn’t shatter in his hand.

  “Considering what Amanda put you through, I would think you’d be a little more cautious. I’d think you’d want to screen this woman nine ways to Sunday.”

  “I did. Her reference
s were glowing.”

  “And you told me they were also voodoo. Nothing about her added up.”

  The steaks were done. Anxious to get back inside to Em, away from his supposed friend, Jace used a meat fork to pluck the ribeyes from the grill onto a serving platter.

  Softening his tone, Granola said, “The last thing I want to do, man, is rain on your parade. Pam thinks the world of Emma, but I’ve got to tell you, something’s not right about her. Check it out.”

  “Drop it.”

  “WHAT DO YOU THINK the boys are talking about?” Pam asked, feeding Bronwyn pureed peaches while peering out the breakfast-nook window.

  “I couldn’t begin to guess.” Emma sprinkled croutons over a Caesar salad. Humming along to the Coldplay song playing on the stereo, Emma gazed out the window over the kitchen sink. Jace stood at the grill, his strong back to her. His buzz cut was growing out along his neck. Her fingertips tingled from wanting to stroke the dark strands.

  Pam asked, “Did you two have fun at dinner the other night?”

  “It was actually pretty amazing.”

  “How so?” Pam asked, wiping each girl’s wet, sticky cheeks with a damp cloth.

  “Jace told me what happened on his wedding day. No wonder he’s had a tough time of it.”

  “And now?” Pam raised her eyebrows. “Any romantic sparks?”

  Emma blushed.

  “Hmm…” Pam grinned. “This is an interesting development.”

  “Nothing happened.” Emma grated parmesan over the salad. “We just had a good talk.”

  “Mmm-hmm…” Popping open the lid on a jar of pureed pork, Pam asked, “Do I heat this?”

  “Just a little. Be sure and test it on your wrist before giving it to the girls.”

  “Will do, boss.”

  “Steaks are done,” Jace said, pushing open the back door.

  Emma took the steak platter from him. “These look—and smell—amazing.”

  “Thanks,” Jace said. “Everything else ready?”

  Granola followed Jace through the door, closing it behind him.

  “All we’re waiting on is the garlic toast to come out from under the broiler.”

  “Great,” Jace said, “I’m starving.”

  “I’m going to wash up,” Granola said. “Pam, wanna come with me?”

  “I’m feeding the girls.” Pam, finished with the microwave, sat back down in front of the high chairs. She held a bite up to Bea, who gobbled it with a sloppy grin. “Why? Did you forget how to wash your own hands?”

  “Pam,” her husband said. “Bathroom. Now.”

  “Granola…” Jace practically growled.

  “What?” he asked. “There some law against talking to my wife?”

  Jace’s jaw muscle ticked.

  “Everything all right?” Emma asked, slipping her hands into quilted mitts to take the bread from the oven.

  “Pam,” Granola said, “we should go.”

  “What?” she asked. “Why?”

  “I’ll explain it to you in the car.” To Emma, he said, “Thanks for the dinner invite. We’ll take a rain check.”

  The quizzical look on Pam’s face told Emma that she had no more idea of what had caused the palpable tension between the two men than she did.

  “Bye,” Pam said, handing the spoon to Emma. Hugging the girls, then her, she whispered, “I’ll stop by tomorrow, and we’ll talk.”

  “Thanks,” Emma said, grateful for the woman’s fast friendship. It was comforting to know that whether or not the men in their party were getting along, it wouldn’t affect them.

  Once their company had left, Emma asked Jace, “Mind telling me what that was about?”

  “I’d rather not.” Taking Pam’s chair in front of the babies, he picked up where she had left off.

  “Our guests just stormed out of our house before eating. I’d like to know why.”

  “That what this is, Em? Our house?”

  He couldn’t have hurt her more than if he’d punched her in her gut.

  The CD ended.

  The sudden silence was deafening.

  Bronwyn cooed, kicking her feet hard enough to make her high chair clatter.

  “Em?”

  She gripped the counter edge. What could she possibly say to Jace in response to such a question? On the one hand, yes, as crazy as it seemed, she absolutely thought of this as her house. As if the twins were hers. As if Jace…

  Hands over her face, it took her a second to process the insanity of her thoughts. This house wasn’t hers, the babies weren’t hers and, as for Jace, the two of them as a couple would obviously never work.

  On autopilot to make the most efficient, face-saving escape possible, Emma gave each girl a goodbye hug and a kiss to the top of each precious head. Gathering her purse, she headed for the front door.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Jace asked.

  “Away from you.”

  “Fair enough, but is this how you settle arguments? By running away?”

  “I wasn’t aware we were having an argument. Goodbye, Jace.”

  “Will you be back tomorrow?”

  Since she didn’t have an answer, Emma walked out the door.

  Chapter Eleven

  Emma had been home thirty minutes, sitting on the deck staring out at the glistening, moonlit Gulf, when car headlights shone on the dune in front of the house.

  Her stomach churned, and she feared it was Jace.

  Hoped it was Jace.

  And she knew in her heart of hearts that there was no one else it could possibly be.

  The car’s engine was turned off.

  The driver’s-side door opened with the same metallic squeak as that Jace’s Mustang made.

  Emma’s position on the deck’s far corner gave her a clear visual shot at the stairs. Gripping the wood rail, she peered into the gloom, tensing with her visitor’s every footfall.

  “Thank God, I found you.” Sure enough, it was a grim-faced Jace now invading the sanctity of her home. “I tore the house apart, looking for your home address.” Crossing to her, he shrugged, then held out his arms as if wanting a hug.

  Folding her arms, she asked, “Where are the girls?”

  He nodded toward the car. “In the backseat. Snoozing.” A week earlier, in case of emergency, she’d purchased car seats for his vehicle. Never had she expected them to be put to use for something like this. “Want to go for a ride, or help carry the babies inside?”

  “You hurt me,” she said, already rushing over to the girls.

  “And I’m sorry,” he insisted, “but I had to know.”

  “Know what?” She opened the passenger-side rear door. Seeing the girls brought instant peace. Clarity of mind. Lord help her, but she loved them. Needed them. They filled the emptiness that had gnawed at her every day since Henry had been gone.

  And Jace? Where does he fit in?

  After Rick had left her, she’d sworn off men. Was the excitement she felt whenever Jace was around real? Or simply a by-product of her affection for the twins? Emotionally, were they a package deal?

  “Em…” Grasping her shoulders, he turned her to face him, slipped his fingers beneath her chin, urging her to meet his gaze. “The other night, at the restaurant, when I admitted to—” He released her to rub his hardened jaw. “Hell, I don’t know what I admitted, only that you’ve come to mean the world to me. Truth is, Granola thinks you’re hiding something. That—like Amanda—whether you mean to or not, you’ll end up hurting me. I was pissed at him for even suggesting such a thing. That’s why he stormed off. Because I told him to mind his own business.”

  “He’s your friend,” she said, curving her fingers around Bronwyn’s tiny toes. The baby should have socks on. She’d catch a chill. “It’s understandable—admirable, even—that he’d worry about you.”

  “Should he? Worry?” Jace stood behind her, easing his arms around her waist, resting his head on her shoulder. His exhalations fell warmly against her chest.
She could feel his heartbeat pounding against her back.

  Would she hurt Jace? From her vantage point, he was the one with the power. The twins were his. As long as he had them, Emma wasn’t going anywhere. Which essentially made her a horrible person. Jace was a kind-hearted, wonderful man. Could she use him that way?

  “What are you thinking?” With the backs of his fingers, Jace skimmed her cheek.

  Ashamed to say, she shook her head.

  “If it makes you feel better, I’m not looking for a forever commitment, here, Em. I just think that—”

  “What if I am?” she accidentally blurted, pulling away from him. Covering her mouth with her hands, she continued, “I shouldn’t have said that. Rewind, then hit Delete.”

  For the longest while, Jace was quiet, then he turned her around and drew her into his arms, inching closer, mingling his breath with hers until she couldn’t tell where she left off and he began.

  Time froze.

  Their surroundings telescoped to moonlight and the lapping waters of the Gulf.

  When he first pressed his lips to hers, panic seized her. It’d been so long. Did she even remember how? But then raw emotion took over. Warmth quivering through every nerve. Panic turned to bliss. Perfect languor. A lump formed in her throat from knowing—knowing—everything was right in her life.

  After the pain she’d been through in losing Henry, then Rick, fate had given her two perfect angels and her very own Marine.

  Twining her arms around Jace’s neck, she sighed.

  “We good?” he asked, his breath peppermint-flavored.

  “Indescribably so.”

  “Anything else we need to hammer out?”

  She shook her head. One day—soon—she’d share her grief over Henry, but now, on the threshold of happiness, hardly seemed the time.

  “This place is amazing,” he said, gesturing to her rental home. “Had I known you lived in a house like this, I would’ve suggested we change our base of operations.”

  “It’s okay,” she said. “Yours feels cozier.”

  “Since you’ve been there.”

  “That’s sweet, but—”

  Stopping her with another kiss, this one hotter, infinitely more exciting in an inexplicable way, he said, “Stop putting yourself down. You’re an amazing surrogate mother to my kids. And to me…” He kissed her, shimmering happiness through her. “You’re my world.”