The Marine's Babies (Men Made In America) Page 4

  “Sorry,” the PI said, “my wife’s eight months pregnant and home alone while I’m out on this wild goose chase. Nobody wants to find this Vicki more than me. Trouble is, the car tag you gave me from the guard gate surveillance tape turned out to be a rental. The contract was under the assumed name of Mary Smith. She showed the proper ID, meaning she had to have been planning this a while.”

  “So?” Furious didn’t begin to describe the emotions raging through Jace.

  “The fact that she had enough foresight to want to stay out of touch tells me this is going to be tougher than I’d originally thought.”

  “But she’s a college student,” Jace pointed out.

  “Where?”

  “Hell, I don’t know.” Slicing his free hand through his spiky hair, Jace lengthened his stride.

  “Without a last name, I’m not even sure where to start. We’ve exhausted all easy leads.”

  Jace said nothing, just silently fumed.

  “With the Internet, you’d be amazed at what you can do. These days, disappearing is no big deal.”

  “Great,” Jace mumbled.

  “I really am sorry. You think of anything we can use to identify her—anything at all—give me a ring. Night or day.”

  Having turned off his cell, Jace plucked a blossom from the honeysuckle vine. As a kid, growing up in Kentucky, he and his friends used to yank out the stamens, sucking at the sweetness. Life had been simple then. Carefree. Now, everything was a mess. He wasn’t sure where to turn.

  An image flashed before his mind’s eye. Emma.

  Maybe she’d know how he was supposed to be a real father to his girls when there were times he still felt like a kid himself.

  “JACE?” Hand to her forehead, shielding her eyes from the sun, Emma realized it was him jogging toward her from the opposite end of his neighborhood park’s walking trail. Though the redbrick homes comprising the base’s residential sector all looked alike with their rectangular shapes and boxy front porches, the base as a whole had a kind of tranquility due in large part to the abundance of trees: pines and magnolias and ancient live oaks drizzled in Spanish moss.

  “Hey,” he said, out of breath and bending at his waist to brace his hands on his knees. He wore the same uniform as he had the day before, only this time his desert-beige T-shirt clung to his chest from sweat. She’d known he had a powerful build, but when he straightened to his full height, something about seeing him in broad daylight made her mouth go dry. “When I saw you and the little ladies weren’t home, but your car was, I took a gamble you might be here.”

  “Is that all right?” she asked. “It’s only three o’clock. If I’d known you planned on being home this early, I would have—”

  “It’s fine,” he said. “I snuck out.”

  “Why? Everything okay?” He wasn’t replacing her, was he?

  “Yeah. On the job anyway.” He walked a short distance down the azalea-lined trail to park himself on a wooden bench. A light breeze rustled the Spanish moss. “Have a seat,” he said, patting the space beside him. “There’s something I want to run by you.”

  Pulse erratic, she pulled the stroller off the trail, making sure the twins’ faces were in the shade, and then did as Jace had asked. Not only was it awkward being so close to him, but his unreadable tone had her worrying she’d done something wrong.

  He asked, “Why are you all of a sudden so wide-eyed?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, smoothing the folds of her lightweight floral cotton skirt. The day was hot, and sweat and his direct question had her pink tank top clinging in places she’d rather it would not. Truth was, today had been even better than yesterday, and she wasn’t anywhere near ready to give up the babies. Was he firing her? Had he found alternative arrangements?

  “You look like someone just ran off with your ice cream cone.”

  “Oh?” She cast him a faint smile.

  “Relax,” he urged with a gentle shoulder nudge. “Your life can’t be anywhere near as complicated as mine.”

  Wanna bet?

  “Anyway, it’s like this…” He relayed his conversation with his PI, then arched his head back and sighed. “You can’t imagine how freaked out I was, hearing that the guy had no more leads. Then, making matters worse, all of my buddies had no love.”

  “Love?” Emma wrinkled her nose.

  “They couldn’t have cared less. Hell, one of them even came right out and said that if I’d ever just stick with one woman, this wouldn’t even have happened. Which, if you ask me, was a seriously wrong thing to say, considering what the last woman I thought I loved put me through.”

  Interesting. She wouldn’t have thought a happy-go-lucky sort like Jace would have relationship issues. But then, she’d never thought her own marriage would end in a nasty divorce.

  “I don’t mean to pry,” she said, “but what does any of this have to do with me?” Because honestly, all she wanted from this job was a chance to prove herself as a mother. Yet the longer she sat alongside Jace, studying the sweat rivulet grazing his temple, the harder it was not to brush it gently away.

  “Technically, nothing.” He angled still closer, landing his camo-covered thigh against hers. “But I’m glad you asked the question, because nutty as it sounds, at the height of my rage over Vicki, the only person I could think to come to for advice was you. Here I barely even know you, but judging by how the babies instantly took a liking to you, you seem like a trustworthy gal.”

  Gal?

  “All of my friends are too close. I need an outsider’s view on this whole mess. That’s where you come in.”

  “For starters,” she said, inching away from him to give herself room to think, “suddenly having two gorgeous, healthy babies land on your lap is far from a mess, but more in the realm of blessing. Second, if you’re looking for me to give you absolution—as though you’re the innocent in all of this, you’ve come to the wrong person.”

  “Damn.” His lips turned into a slow, sexy smile that threw her completely off balance. How was she supposed to stay mad at him when he looked at her like that? His lazy Southern drawl wasn’t helping much, either. “You’ve got a temper like a riled-up drill sergeant.”

  Beatrice grew fidgety.

  Emma moved to get her, but Jace beat her to it. “You’ve had them all day,” he said. “Let me handle this for you.” He held the baby a little too far away. In her short time with Henry, she’d learned that babies like to snuggle as close as possible. They like to feel sheltered. And apparently, since the baby was growing ever more fitful, Jace wasn’t doing such a great job.

  With an exasperated sigh, she said, “Let me.”

  The baby quiet, she said, “You asked what you should do, and though this may not be what you want to hear, for starters, you need to be not so afraid of them. They won’t break.”

  “Who said I was afraid? I fight wars.”

  “Great. As a U.S. citizen, I’m in awe of your sacrifice, but Jace, we’re not talking about battle. We’re talking about babies. Here—” She handed Bea right back to him.

  He held the squirming infant like a cross between a priceless porcelain vase and a net filled with smelly, wriggling fish.

  “First, really hold her. Babies need to feel your heartbeat. At her current distance from you, she probably can’t even tell who you are.”

  “Like this?” He scooted forward on the park bench, giving himself room to lean back. He rested Bea on his chest, but didn’t wrap his arms around her.

  “Not at all,” Emma chastised. “Hold her like you mean it. That’s how she knows she’s loved.”

  “Huh?” He scowled while making a few obligatory pats.

  “Let’s try it another way. When you were a kid, did you ever have a favorite pet?”

  “My hamster, Buzzy.”

  “Great. So how did you hold him?”

  “I stuck him in my hoodie pocket.” He grinned.

  Emma frowned.

  Licking her lips, trying wi
th everything in her to be patient, she said, “How would you hold a woman? Someone you genuinely care about?”

  “Hell…” He scratched his head. “It’s been a while. And anyway, what does holding a baby have to do with a girlfriend?”

  “Technically, nothing. But inside, everything. It’s the same general idea in that the way you hold someone shows how you feel about them. Don’t you think that when you hold Bea in a standoffish way, she can tell you don’t like her?”

  “Hey,” Jace said, straightening into a defensive pose. “She’s my kid. Of course I like her.”

  “I know. All I’m saying is that you should display your affection not just through words, but actions. Like this.” Leaning close enough to Jace that she caught the leathery scent of his masculine deodorant and soap, she gently positioned Bea against the natural curve of Jace’s chest. She next urged his arms around the infant so that rather than merely supporting her, he held her. Sheltered her. Gave her the security a baby girl deserved from her father.

  “Wow,” he said, nuzzling the crown of Bea’s head. “I get it. That really does make a difference. It feels like she’s connected to me.”

  “See?” Emma said, heart swelling. All too well, she remembered holding Henry close. Feeling that as long as she held him he’d feel safe and loved. “I told you so.”

  “And I’ve gotta say that this is one time I don’t mind being put in my place. Thanks.” Jace smiled, and the sincerity behind his eyes stole Emma’s breath.

  In that instant, not only had Jace connected with Bea, but with Emma, and the realization was somehow exhilarating and appalling.

  Sharply, Emma looked away.

  “I was just thinking,” he said, “since I’m home early, we might—”

  “Sorry,” she said, standing, “but I just remembered that I have an appointment. Think you can handle getting the girls home on your own?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  Fighting a queer tightness in her throat, a panicky need to be free of his piercing green stare, she started off down the winding trail. “Really, I have to go.”

  Chapter Four

  “Son,” Jace’s mom said that night on the phone from her RV campground in Maine. She and his dad had been touring the east coast all summer, but if you asked Jace’s opinion, it was past time they hightailed it home. “I wish I could tell you what to do, but you’re a grown man, capable of getting yourself into huge messes, and I pray to God every day that you’re equally as capable of getting yourself out.”

  “That’s just it, Mom, this isn’t my ordinary mess. Those I can fly or sweet talk my way out of, but this…”

  She laughed. “For this, you’re going to have to use your heart.”

  He wasn’t going to dignify that with a comment.

  “Once you find this Vicki woman—and you will—swallow your pride and marry her. The rest will work itself out.”

  “M-marry her? She abandoned her own kids! Why would I want to live the rest of my life with a woman like that?”

  “Man up, Jace. That’s what Oprah would say.”

  Jace rolled his eyes. Great. Looks like his mom had a new favorite afternoon show. Whatever happened to her quoting The Young and the Restless? “Mom, how about putting Dad on the phone?”

  “He’s off sailing with our new friends, Ed and Louise. They have the sweetest little boat moored in Bar Harbor.”

  Swell.

  “You were always a stubborn, strong-willed child, Jace, but this is one time when you need to put aside what you think about this whole matter, and surrender to what you feel.”

  After hanging up, Jace realized he should have stayed on the line, asking his mom why he couldn’t seem to figure out exactly what he felt.

  That afternoon, in the park with Emma, when she’d shown him how to hold Bea properly, for a split second an unfamiliar warmth had crept through him. But then Emma had left, and so had his warm-and-fuzzies.

  He knew in his head that he was a father. That he’d suddenly been thrust into a role of responsibility larger than anything else with which he’d been charged. So what was wrong with him that he couldn’t connect that knowledge with his heart?

  “GOOD MORNING.” At five-thirty the next morning, Jace opened his front door to a dark, pouring rain, and a soggy Emma.

  Thunder rolled.

  Taking her umbrella, then ushering her inside, he said, “Did you make it to your appointment?”

  “My what?” Emma set down her purse, and then shrugged out of her yellow raincoat, hanging it dripping on the hook beside the door.

  “Yesterday, when you left the park, you said you had an appointment.”

  “Oh.” She looked away. “I forgot.”

  “Why’d you lie to me, Em? Why the rush to get away?”

  “First, my name’s Emma, and second, I…” As if utterly spent, she crumpled onto the sofa. “I’m sorry. I didn’t have to be anywhere. I just couldn’t be around you any longer.”

  Jace winced. “What’d I do?”

  “Nothing. I’m sorry. Please don’t fire me.”

  “Fire you?” Grabbing his cell phone from a charger, he parked alongside her, checking for messages. “Why would I do that?”

  “For lying.”

  “Then you admit it?”

  “Again, I’m sorry.” She had a funny look on her face. As if she wanted to say more, but wouldn’t. “I, um, was having female problems.”

  “Whoa—” Turning all of his attention to rummaging through his flight bag, he said, “say no more. That’s all I needed to hear.” Plus, he was damned glad she hadn’t been ticked at him. His track record with women wasn’t all that great, and he sure as hell didn’t need to lose his girls’ nanny this soon into her tenure.

  “Want something to eat before you head out into this nasty weather?”

  “What about your, er, problems? Because with those sorts of—you know…” He flopped his hands on his lap, gesturing to where her general womanly region would be. “Well, I don’t want you overdoing it.”

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Promise. You go ahead and finish getting ready, and I’ll whip something up.”

  MAKING BREAKFAST, Emma was almost quivery with relief. Just up and taking off the previous afternoon hadn’t been a smooth move. What if she’d been fired?

  “Smells good,” Jace said fresh from the shower.

  He hadn’t yet put on his shirt, and moisture still clung to the dark hair on his chest. Emma’s stomach returned to fluttering, only this time, it had nothing to do with nerves and everything to do with Jace’s proximity. “I, um, hope you like it.”

  “Anything I can do to help?”

  “No, thank you. Everything’s just about done.” Easing his three fried eggs onto a plate, she asked, “How did the girls sleep?”

  “Great. I was only up once, which is a record since their arrival.”

  “I figured introducing solid food would help. But then for all we know, they’ve been used to it.” She buttered his toast, and then eased four strips of bacon alongside his eggs. Setting the plate and utensils in front of him, she asked, “Anything else before I check on the babies?”

  “Yes.” He stood, walked to the cabinet to grab an extra plate, fork and napkin, and then pulled out the chair alongside him. “Join me. The last thing I intended when hiring you was for you to be my own personal serving wench.”

  “I know,” she said, fidgeting her hands along the seat back of the nearest chair. “But I don’t feel comfortable sharing a meal with you.”

  “Why?” he asked, already divvying up the food. “Because yesterday, in the park, I thought we’d had a connection.”

  “That was different,” she bristled.

  “How so?” He dug into his portion of the meal.

  “We were discussing parenting. Sharing a meal would be…different.”

  Shaking his head, he laughed. “You’re a tough one to read, Emma Stewart. Please, sit. Promise, I won’t bite a thing besides my food.”


  She sat, but didn’t like it. The man was too playful for her tastes.

  He shoved her plate and fork toward her. “Try some. It’s good.”

  “I usually just have a bagel for breakfast.”

  “That’s why you’re so skinny.” He helped himself to a piece of her toast. “Ask me, a woman needs meat on her bones. Something for a man to hang on to.”

  Her mind’s eye focused on an image of him spooning her. How it might feel being cocooned by his strength. Heat flamed her cheeks. She hastily feigned interest in her food.

  “I’m not too skinny,” she snapped. “There’s no such thing.”

  “Think what you want, but trust me, you’re a decent-looking woman. If you’d pack a little junk in your trunk, I’ll bet you wouldn’t be able to keep guys away.”

  Momentarily stunned, she just sat gaping at him. “Please tell me you didn’t say what you just said.”

  He shrugged, and then calmly forked the last bite of his eggs. “In my line of work, I might die tomorrow. I believe in calling it like I see it.”

  “Yes, well, I believe this conversation is out of line.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, blinding her with that slow, sexy grin. “My bad. You already have a guy, don’t you? Since you don’t wear a ring, I assumed you were single, but—”

  Since her incident at the hotel, she’d permanently removed her wedding ring.

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes, I am single. And I intend to stay that way.” Pushing her chair back, she stood. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to do what I was hired for, and check on the babies.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Jace said, sending her a playful salute.

  “QUESTION,” Jace asked Granola the next morning while performing his helicopter’s flight check. The previous day’s storms had burned off, leaving clear skies with unlimited visibility. Wind out of the south at ten knots.