Heart of a Hero (6 page)

The child grinned, a wide smile that sent a cascade of drool down her chin and showed him two tiny pearly white teeth on the bottom. Then she turned her head abruptly into her mother’s shoulder.

Before he could figure out what to say, Phoebe saved him. “Daddy,” she told his child. “Bridget, this is your daddy.”

The baby peeked out at him with one blue eye, then grinned before hiding her face again.

“Flirt,” said Phoebe. She walked across the room and expertly unfurled a large baby blanket while still holding the child on her hip with the other hand. Then she set the baby in the middle of the blanket.

Bridget wobbled for a moment, then seemed to find her balance and sit straighter. “She just started sitting up by herself two weeks ago,” she told Wade over her shoulder. “Why don’t you come sit down and play with us? She’s not usually shy and she should get used to you quickly.”

“All right.” He strove for a normal tone although his heart felt as if it were going to fly right out of his chest.

He joined them on the brightly colored blanket. Phoebe was building a tower of blocks. Every time she’d get three or four stacked up, Bridget swiped her hand and knocked them over, squealing and chortling. Once, when Phoebe stopped for a moment, the baby smacked her little hands together and yelled, “Ack!” in a tone that left no doubt what she wanted.

Wade hastily reached for another block. “Way to get what you want, kid.”

Phoebe chuckled. “She has a mind of her own. And if she doesn’t get her way, she lets me know about it.”

“Reminds me of Melanie.” He’d said it without thinking. The moment the words hit the air, he knew they’d been a mistake.

The happiness drained out of Phoebe’s eyes, leaving them guarded and sorrowful. “Yes,” she said quietly. “Bridget does seem to have a stronger personality than I ever had.”

He wanted to protest. There was nothing wrong with Phoebe’s personality. Just because Mel had been more vocal about everything under the sun didn’t mean Phoebe’s personality was any less pleasing. She just wasn’t loud and attention-grabbing, that was all. But he didn’t know how to say that in a way that made much sense, and he could almost feel the resistance in the air. She didn’t want to talk about Melanie, that much was clear.

A pang of guilt shot through him, tempering the anger that still simmered. He was blaming Phoebe for not telling him about the baby…but he’d been responsible for her sister’s death. No wonder she hadn’t told him.

The baby had grabbed a board book and was busily manhandling the sturdy pages. As he watched, she put it in her mouth.

“Here, honey.” Phoebe extended a brightly colored set of rings and confiscated the book. “We don’t chew on books.”

Wade looked at the frayed corners of the one she held. “Apparently, some of us do.”

She smiled, and abruptly it felt right between them again. “I’m working on it,” she said wryly. Then she glanced at her watch. “It’ll soon be dinnertime. Would you like to stay and eat with us?”

He raised one eyebrow.

“Are you planning to stay here
tonight?”

“That’s the plan.” He stood and folded his arms. “If you spend the weekend teaching me how to take care of Bridget, then I could keep her while you work.”

“Don’t you have to work or something?” she asked in an exasperated tone.

“Or something,” he agreed.

“So you have to go back to California.” It wasn’t a question.

“No. I’m pretty sure I’m retiring from the service.”

She looked shocked. “But that’s what you’ve always wanted to do. To be. A soldier.”

“I’m not physically able to perform on the battlefield to the army’s satisfaction anymore,” he said quietly. “And I’m not interested in a desk job staring at a computer monitor all day. So I’m taking early retirement.”

“But what will you do?”

He shrugged. “I’m checking out a number of options. One of them is with a freelance security firm out of Virginia. I’d be establishing a West Coast office.”

“So you’d be going home?”

He noted with satisfaction that she still referred to California as home. But all he did was nod. “That would be the plan.” He shrugged. “But now, everything has changed.” He looked down at his daughter, who had rolled onto her stomach and was making swimming motions as she tried valiantly to get to another toy just out of reach. “Everything.”

P
hoebe still sat on the blanket at Wade’s feet and he reached down, putting his hands beneath her elbows and lifting her to her feet.

Her eyes were fastened on his face; her hands fell to rest against his chest for a moment before she moved away. She cleared her throat. “I understand it’s going to take some time to get used to being a father,” she told him, indicating the baby playing at their feet. Her voice was huskier than normal.

His body was having no trouble understanding that the woman he’d dreamed of for months—hell, years—was standing practically in his arms.
The
mother of his child.
The anger he’d been hiding couldn’t be summoned. Instead, he found the thought surprisingly arousing. Here, right before them, was something they’d made together during those wild, impossibly wonderful moments they’d shared in the cabin.

He exerted a little pressure until she stopped resisting and let him draw her forward. “It’s amazing that we created that.”

She nodded, looking straight ahead at his throat rather than tilting her head back. “It’s a miracle.”

He pressed a feather light kiss against her temple and felt her body shudder. “I’m still pissed at you. But thank you.”

“I, ah—I don’t think—”

“Don’t think,” he urged. “I won’t if you won’t.”

He wanted to kiss her. He’d dreamed of it for so long that he could hardly believe this was real. Releasing her wrist, he put one finger beneath her chin and lifted her face to his. “Kiss me,” he said. “Relax and let me—ahhh.” In unison, they made an involuntary sound of pure pleasure as his thighs pressed into the cradle of her hips and his hardening body nudged the tender flesh between her legs.

He couldn’t wait anymore. He dropped his head and fastened his mouth on hers, kissing her hard and deep, pouring all the longing and frustration
of the past two years into the embrace. He felt her hands clench on his shoulders, but she wasn’t pushing him away. Oh, no. He felt the way she melted against him, the way her fingers dug into his flesh and he knew she was going to be his again. But this time, he promised himself, he wasn’t going to be a cad, wasn’t going to leave her without a word.

This was a dream, Phoebe thought. It had to be. She’d imagined Wade kissing her so many times in the past year that it felt unreal to have him here, holding her against him. His tongue demanded her response, his big arms molded her close to the lean strength of his body. His state of arousal was impossible to miss, plastered against him as she was.

And memory rushed in, recalling the other time they’d been in this kind of embrace….

She was in heaven.

Phoebe nestled her face into Wade’s throat and felt him shudder as they danced. This was a dream. It had to be. But oh, what a dream. She never wanted to wake up.

“Hey, you.” She felt Wade’s lips move against her forehead.

She lifted her head and smiled up into his gray eyes. Even in the low light on the dance floor, they seemed to blaze with heat and desire. For her? She was definitely dreaming.

“I want to take you home tonight.” His voice was rough. “But I can’t. You’ve got the car.”

“You can drive,” she offered. “Since we’re practically going to the same place.”

“I wish we were going home together,” he said. “I’d like to hold you all night long.”

His frank words were shocking, in a knot-in-the-belly exciting kind of way, and she knew her eyes widened.

“I don’t want to rush you,” he said quickly. “I realize this is new—”

“It’s not new for me,” she broke in. She reached up and placed a soft palm against his cheek. “Wade, don’t you know I’ve—” loved you “—wanted this for a long time?”

He placed his hand over hers, holding it in place as he turned his head and pressed a hot kiss into her palm. He closed his eyes briefly. “I’m a dope. I never realized—”

“Shh. It’s okay.” She didn’t want him to feel bad, or awkward, about anything. “Let’s just start from this night.”

“That sounds like a solid plan to me.” He
smiled. Then his hand slid down, freeing hers as he cupped her chin and lifted her face to his.

She caught her breath, sure he was about to kiss her. Oh, God, she would melt right into the floor if he did—

“What’s going on here?” The voice was strident, female, furious—and familiar.

Phoebe jolted, tearing herself free from Wade’s arms.

Melanie stood in front of them, hands fisted on her hips. “Thanks for taking such good care
of my date,
sister dear,” she said in a taut, sarcastic voice.

“Back off, Mel.” Wade’s voice was cool and commanding. “You didn’t even notice I was leaving. Why the scene now?”

“Wade.” Melanie turned luminous blue eyes on him and, instantly, the anger vanished and tears welled. “You—you brought me to the reunion. Why would you treat me this way?”

Wade shook his head. “Save the act for somebody who buys it. You couldn’t have cared less what Phoebe and I were doing—”

“Phoebe and you.” Anger distorted Melanie’s pretty features and she tossed her long, shining hair back. Her eyes narrowed as she focused on Phoebe. “Sneaking around behind my back. My own sister. My twin. You’ve always wanted him, haven’t you?
You’ve been in love with him the whole time, but he was mine.”

“That’s enough.” Wade took Melanie’s elbow, but she shook him off. Around them, people had stopped dancing and were staring openly, watching the drama unfold.

And Melanie loved it, Phoebe knew. She was the quintessential drama queen. This act was perfect for her.

“No,” Melanie said, and her voice grew shrill. “That’s not nearly enough. I will never forgive you for this, Wade. And you.” She stabbed an angry finger in Phoebe’s direction. “I wish I never had to see you again!”

And with one final toss of her bright tresses, Melanie whirled and stomped away, fury radiating from every move. The only thing that spoiled it was that she’d had far too much to drink and she staggered as she headed for the door, jostling a gaping group of classmates. “Get out of my way,” she shrieked. She had worked herself into a sobbing fit of tears by that time.

Wade turned back to Phoebe. “We’d better go after her. She’s had way too much to drink.”

“Yes.” She nodded. “It’s a good thing she doesn’t have a car.”

“Come with me.” He held out a hand.

She shook her head, her throat clogged with sobs. “No. She’ll be impossible if she sees me. You know she’ll calm down if she doesn’t see us together.”

Wade nodded, letting his hand drop to his side as he acknowledged the truth of her statement.

She turned and walked to the table where her small evening bag lay. “Here.” She extended her car keys. “You take her home. I’ll catch a ride later.”

Wade took the keys. Then he caught her hand with his free one, bringing it to his lips for a moment. “I’ll call you,” he said.

Her heart leaped at the tender gesture. Could he really mean it? Could this evening, the moments between them on the dance floor, really be the day she’d dreamed of since she was old enough to feel her heart beating faster in his presence?

She offered him a shaky smile. “I’ll look forward to it,” she said, clutching the promise to her heart as he started away.

Just then, they heard tires shrieking in the parking lot.

“What the hell…?” Wade began to run full-out.

Phoebe rushed after him. She reached the door just in time to see her car flying out of the parking lot and down the road, and she knew immediately what had happened. Melanie knew Phoebe
kept a spare key in a magnetic box in the wheel well. She’d taken the car.

Phoebe tore her mouth from Wade’s. “This isn’t—we can’t do this.” She was embarrassed that she was practically panting. And then she realized that she had a death grip on his wide shoulders. And worse, she’d made no move to separate their bodies, which were stuck like two slices of the peanut butter bread she often slapped together for lunch.

Wade’s eyebrows rose. There was a glint in his eye that looked almost dangerous. “We just did.”

“Anymore,” she tacked on belatedly, removing her hands and stepping back, forcing him to release her.

“Ever?”

“Ever.”

“Because…”

“Because your life is in California—” she spread her hands “—or wherever, and mine is here in New York now.”

“Mine won’t be wherever anymore,” he informed her. “I’m going to live here if that’s where you two will be. It’s not half-bad.”

“It gets really cold in the winter.”

“I lived at West Point for four years, remember? Believe me, I know how cold it gets here.”

“You always said you wanted to live somewhere warm,” she reminded him.

“Being around for my daughter is a lot more important than worrying about the temperature. So your reasoning doesn’t hold. What else is bothering you?”

“Well…It isn’t fair of you to spring this on me without giving me a chance to think about it.”
I can’t get involved with him.

Why? He wanted you after the funeral. And before, at the dance.

Wanting isn’t love.

It’s a start.

No false hope,
she lectured herself.
He wanted to teach Mel a lesson at the reunion. It wasn’t his fault she’d flown off the handle and everything had gone so horribly wrong. And the other…What guy’s going to say no when a woman pretty much tears his clothes off and has her way with him?

“Take your time. I’m listening.”

But he wasn’t. His eyes were on Bridget, watching her every move with an intensity that was painful to see. It was obvious he’d forgotten all about the kiss.

Bridget was happily oblivious. She was still lying on the floor with the toy she’d finally managed to snag. She rolled over on her back and was vigorously shaking it so that a musical chime sounded inside.