Gazes locked, tense silence stretched between them like an anchor rope. Did she dare go with Ryan? Eager to soak up anything she might possibly miss in her baby’s future, she inclined her head. It would only take a few minutes, and she’d keep her distance from Ryan and his devastating kisses.
He released her arm and bent over, breaking the connection. When he straightened all traces of desire had vanished from his face. He held a ball cap and a life jacket which he’d pulled from one of the side compartments. He thrust the flotation device in her hands and gently settled the cap on her head.
“I don’t have sunscreen on board. You’ll need the hat. Keep the life jacket close by.”
He pivoted abruptly, crossed to the wheel and fired the engine. The strength left Nicole’s legs and she sank onto the bench seat clutching the life jacket to her chest.
After casting off the stern line, Ryan returned to the controls. Seconds later the boat glided smoothly away from the dock. Nicole released a slow breath. Kiss ended. Catastrophe averted.
But strangely, her relief felt a lot like disappointment, and the hunger gnawing at her stomach had nothing to do with delicious aromas emitting from the take-out bag on the bench beside her.
Eight
M istake. The word reverberated in Ryan’s head, drowning out the roar of the boat’s inboard motor.
Kissing Nicole had been a mistake. Both times.She was the marrying kind. He was not.
She was family oriented. He was not.
She put others first. He looked out for number one.
But damn, her lips, the feel of her breast filling his hand and her slender body against his had set him on fire. Not what he needed to be thinking when lunch was the only thing on the menu this afternoon, and common sense told him to aim for contract not consummation.
He pulled into his favorite cove, killed the engine and let momentum carry the boat toward the dock.
What better way to ensure custody of your kid than to marry the mother?
He immediately tossed the idea overboard like an anchor. He knew what a bad marriage could do to a child. Before she’d left his father, his mother had been demanding and needy and whined incessantly for more of her husband’s attention. Ryan suspected he was enough like his workaholic father to guarantee he’d put his job first and his marriage last. He’d yet to find anything or anyone who interested him more than work. And he’d never found a woman he could trust.
An image of Nicole stretched out on his bed instead of the examination table infiltrated his brain. He shoved it aside, grabbed the bowline and looped the rope through the cleat, but the idea of hooking up with Nicole wouldn’t let him go.
The boat rocked as she stood. “Aren’t we trespassing?”
“With permission. This is one of the houses the real estate agent is going to show us.” He pointed to the For Sale sign hanging on the covered, screened enclosure on one end of the dock. He’d considered it a stroke of luck when he’d spotted the sign on his last cruise upriver.
“I thought you were going to show me your favorite spot.”
“This cove is it. Not a lot of current. Good fishing. Room to wakeboard.”
She looked wary and a little put out as she scanned the wide offshoot of the river. “Couldn’t we have driven here?”
“That wouldn’t have blown away your headache.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I never said I had a headache.”
“You didn’t have to. I could see it in your face and in the stiff way you moved your head. That’s why I took your hair clip. But the headache is gone now, isn’t it?”
Her frown deepened. “Yes. But I thought you were going to change the appointment.”
He shrugged. “Since we needed to cruise upriver to find a picnic spot anyway, there wasn’t any reason to cancel. The house is vacant. We’ll eat in the gazebo. The agent will meet us in thirty minutes to give us a quick tour.”
He tied the stern line then grabbed Nicole’s shoes and the food bag and set both onto the dock. After climbing from the boat he turned and offered her a hand. She hesitated before placing her palm in his. Even though he braced himself, the zap hit him harder and more intensely than before, probably because now he knew how good she felt against him.
“Put on your shoes. You don’t want to risk a splinter.” He shifted his grip to her sun-warmed biceps to help her balance. The heat of her skin made him think of hot bodies—hot nak*d bodies. Arousal percolated through him along with a strong urge to rest his hand over her belly and his baby that was almost too strong to resist.
As soon as she’d donned her sexy heels he released her and led the way into the large screened portion of the dock and set the bag on the picnic table. It was much safer to focus on food rather than the forbidden.
“This is nice,” she offered with her head tipped back to view the ceiling fan hanging from the steeply pitched tongue-and-groove ceiling. The honey-colored varnished wood had aged beautifully, but the perfectly mitered joints weren’t what caught his attention. His gaze traced the line of Nicole’s throat to the pulse fluttering beneath her pale skin.
The pose was purely sexual with her back and neck arched and her lips parted. She looked like a woman reaching cli**x. And the most surprising thing was that he’d swear her posture wasn’t deliberate. He was used to women trolling their sensuality like bait, but he’d bet his bike Nicole had no idea she’d just sent him into testosterone overload.
He shook his head and resumed unpacking. Seeing a little of her skin had obviously short-circuited his brain.
She turned her attention to the two-story house sitting on the crest of a hill with the lush lawn terraced into two large, flat areas. “This property has the kind of fencing along the waterfront and the dock that I mentioned. It would be safe for a child to play in this yard.”
“Fencing will keep a timid kid out of trouble, but a curious one will find a way around it.”
“Is that the voice of experience speaking?” The look she cut him from under her lashes blasted him with a shot of heat below his belt. Did she have any idea how strong a punch the combination of her light eyes, sparkling with amusement, and long dark lashes packed? Probably not.
“I was an inquisitive kid. Were you?”
She bit her bottom lip and averted her face. “I found my share of scrapes to get into. Beth always helped me out of them by running interference with my parents.”
That piqued his interested. “What kind of things?”
She fussed with the lid of the chicken box and shrugged. “Just dumb stuff to get my parents’ attention. Nothing illegal.”
“I wouldn’t have pegged you as the mischievous type. Trying to get our parents’ attention is something we have in common.”
She stared at him for a moment then swallowed. “How old were you when your parents separated?”
“Ten. Old enough to understand most of what was going on and resent the hell out of it.”
“If your parents were miserable together, it’s better that they separated.”
“Better than me being the bone between two fighting dogs?” Damn, he hadn’t meant to say that. He wasn’t a whiner. The past was over.
“Better than being forgotten.” She ducked her head again as if she regretted her words.
Ryan had researched Nicole’s family since the Labor Day picnic enough to know hers wasn’t average. Her parents’ exploits often made front page in the society section.
“You’re not forgettable, Nicole.”
Where had that come from? Put a lid on it, Patrick.
She stared up at him with rounded eyes. The urge to kiss her pushed him forward. Her cheeks flushed. She turned abruptly and looked at the house. “The style is reminiscent of the New Orleans French Quarter. I love the wrought iron railings and arches.”
He wanted to know her story, but knowing meant caring and that wasn’t part of his plan. But damned if he could stop the questions pounding his brain or the anger stirring through him. “Did your parents neglect you?”
“Neglect? No. But my mother was a firm believer in tough love and living with the consequences of your actions. I guess I wanted her to be the milk-and-cookies and kiss-your-boo-boos type.” She sighed and shook her head. “Tell me about the house.”
He let her change the subject because thinking of a kid needing a hug reminded him of the days he’d sat on the front steps waiting in vain for his father to come home. “The house has four thousand square feet, five bedrooms and six baths. There’s a nanny apartment over the garages.”
“A nanny apartment?”
“Yes.”
“You’re going to hire a nanny?”
“It won’t be any different if the child is in day care except for the on-site convenience factor.”
“HAMC’s day care is just down the hall. I can log in and watch the baby from my desk, and I can spend my lunch hour with him or her.”
“When I work at home I’ll be under the same roof.” That hadn’t been part of his original plan, but it sounded feasible—if the house were laid out right and had a decent home office setup. A hands-on dad like his had been before his mother turned the house into a battlefield every time his father came to visit. Eventually his dad had quit coming.
He yanked himself back to the present. “I’m familiar with the builder. He does quality work. The neighborhood has a pool, tennis courts and a gym in the clubhouse.”
If his father didn’t consider this a stable, put-down-roots address, then nothing would please him.
Nicole nodded. “Not having a pool on the property is a plus.”
He finished unpacking the plastic utensils and paper plates. The delicious aromas filled his nose and his stomach growled in anticipation. He gestured to their picnic. “Help yourself.”
She wasted no time filling her plate, and after he’d done the same she scooped up a spoonful of her peach cobbler and popped it between her lips.
Dessert first. His kind of girl.
None of that. No woman was his kind of girl—except the temporary ones who provided sex or an escort when a formal affair required one.
He turned his attention to an appetite he could safely satisfy. The fried chicken was crispy on the outside and juicy on the inside—just the way he liked it. Not as good as his grandmother’s recipe, but close.
Nicole paused between bites, her aqua eyes finding his. “If you had an unhappy childhood, what makes you think you’ll know how to be a good parent?”
He chewed and swallowed while he decided how much to share. “I never said I was unhappy. Like fifty-some percent of all marriages my parents’ ended in divorce. I still had good role models in my maternal grandparents and my father when he made an appearance.”
His mother had often dumped him on his grandparents when his father wasn’t around, but those days with his grandparents had been some of the best of his life. Since he needed Nicole to feel secure in the child’s future, he decided to volunteer some information.
“My grandfather shared his love of the water with me. My grandmother was a firm believer in the idle-hands-find-trouble theory. She taught me to cook and clean up after myself.” The softening expression in Nicole’s eyes set off alarm bells. “Your folks stayed together, how is that going to make you a better parent?”