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One thing was certain—Libby would never endure from him what his mother had with his stepfather. Never.
He watched from the door of his bedroom as Libby stroked a gentle hand over Ally’s cheek and tucked a teddy bear under his daughter’s arm. Libby had dived right in beside him, helping with Ally’s bath and fixing a hot brunch of pancakes and bacon before they shuffled his drowsy daughter off to nap.
Despite her kindness to Ally, the silent treatment and physical distance Libby kept from him conveyed her feelings about their relationship loud and clear. Not exactly the parental atmosphere he wanted for his daughter.
He’d hoped the warm, compassionate Libby who had stolen his heart years ago would be his wife. Every night of his incarceration, he’d dreamed of the woman who’d made him laugh, who’d kissed him in the rain and made s’mores with him over the fireplace flames. After three passionate months together, they’d been on the verge of taking their affair to a deeper, more personal level when Renee had called to say she was five months pregnant with Ally. He never got the chance to probe the deeper layers of the fun-loving and complex woman Libby was, the woman he’d started to love.
He sighed his regret. Maybe he’d never regain what he’d lost with Libby. She could resent him all she wanted as long as Ally had the love she deserved.
He stepped out of the way so Libby could back from the room and pull the door closed.
“I have to leave.”
He cocked his head. “Excuse me?”
She gave him a pointed look. “Leave. Go home. Your little field trip this morning has put me behind schedule.” She squared her shoulders and jutted out her chin. “I have things to do today.”
“Yeah, things like making plans with me about how this arrangement will work. Spending time with Ally. Getting to know her.” He hooked his thumbs in his jeans and frowned.
“No…like researching an important case at the library. And taking Jewel to the vet for her shots.” She brushed past him and began gathering her coat and purse. “I have to pick up my dry cleaning and get the oil changed on my car and—”
“I can change your oil. No point paying someone else to do it.”
She paused in the middle of pulling on her coat. “I don’t need you to change my oil. I’m perfectly happy having my mechanic take care of it.” She jabbed a finger in his direction as she slung her purse over her shoulder. “I agreed to this plan of yours, and I’ll do what I can to help you get custody of Ally. But that doesn’t mean you can come in and dictate my life.”
“I don’t intend to dictate your life, but if this marriage is going to work, if it’s going to look convincing, you’re going to have to find time for us. You can’t bury yourself in your job to hide out from us.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he could reel them back. For Ally’s sake, he needed to work on smoothing the rough edges in his relationship with Libby.
She pulled herself to her full height and pressed her mouth in a taut line. “What’s wrong with working hard at a job I enjoy?”
He shrugged and stepped closer. “Nothing at all. It’s great you enjoy your work.”
Her dark eyes sparked with suppressed pain and anger. “At least I can count on my job being there when I need it. That’s more than I can say about some people.”
Her gibe sliced deep, a direct hit to ancient guilt. But she had no way of knowing about his mother. Did she? As close as they’d been, he’d never shared his darkest secret with her.
He determinedly kept his expression neutral, giving away none of his rioting emotions.
“I help get criminals off the street,” she added. “It’s satisfying.”
Moving within inches of her, he reached for the lapel of her coat and smoothed a wrinkle. Beneath his touch, she stiffened, drew herself up a notch tighter, like a coil ready to spring.
“More satisfying than your personal relationships?” Damn it, why did he keep goading her?
Despite his efforts to set his feelings aside for Ally’s sake, the hurt and anger he’d nourished through his incarceration bubbled to the surface. “I had a job I loved, too, you know.”
She stopped on her way out and cut a startled glance over her shoulder.
“I loved being a firefighter. Loved knowing I was making a difference, saving lives, helping my community the only way I knew how. But when I was convicted, I lost my firefighting credentials.”
He saw the question in her eyes and her reluctance to ask it. “No, I can’t get my old job back,” he volunteered. “But I’ve taken a job my parole officer found for me, working road construction with the highway department. I had to have some income, some employment, if I wanted to fight for Ally.”
Libby closed her eyes and turned away. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you?” He hated the resentment that slipped into his tone when he considered all he’d lost. A loss she’d played a part in.
Pivoting to face him, she straightened her spine and raised her chin. “Yes, I am sorry you lost your job. I know what it meant to you. But sometimes our actions have consequences that reach further than the here and now. If people would stop and think before they went off half-cocked, it would sure make my job simpler.”
He braced a hand on the door frame and leaned closer, breaching the breathing space she’d kept between them all morning. “Libby, you and I both know I don’t do anything half-cocked.”
Color flamed in her cheeks, and though she pursed her lips in a scowl, a flicker of desire danced through her mahogany eyes. So she did remember.
The floral scent of her shampoo tickled his senses, and he battled the urge to kiss her firmly set mouth. He could so easily shock that smugness from her expression, stoke the passion he knew lurked just below the surface.
He settled for giving her a knowing grin. He had time. Time to remind her of the heat they’d once shared. Time to smooth away her prickly edges and find the soft, willing woman he’d known.
Time to warm her back into his bed.
She took a slow, deep breath before answering, clearly composing her reply, struggling to remain calm. With her cool detachment back in place, Libby buttoned her coat. “You know how to reach me.”
By phone maybe, but how did he reach her heart again? How did he break through the stony walls of resistance to find the flesh-and-blood woman he had once loved?
When she opened the door, he caught her arm and turned her to face him. “If Ally feels up to it later, I thought we’d go to Tony’s for pizza. Go with us. I think you should spend a little time getting to know her before we get married.”
She opened her mouth, ready to protest, but finally sighed and gave a quick nod. “I’ll meet you there. Call me when you’re ready to go.”
She shrugged out of his grip and backed out the door. He told himself his disappointment in her abrupt departure had more to do with Ally’s needs than his own. Forget the fact that he’d spent the past two years in prison waiting for his chance to look Libby in the eye and ask her, Why? How did we end up like this?
They’d lost precious years together, but now he had a second chance.
This time, he wouldn’t let her get away.
She couldn’t wait to get out of there.
Libby shifted on the vinyl booth seat and cast an uneasy gaze around the pizzeria.
The atmosphere at the family-oriented restaurant was too…familial. To the casual observer, she, Cal and Ally probably looked like just another happy family enjoying a Saturday night out. Certainly that was the effect Cal was after. But Libby wore the role like outgrown shoes. Playing Cal’s wife pinched and rubbed uncomfortably.
“When you finish eating, we can play some of those video games, if you want,” Cal told Ally, who huddled in the corner of the booth clutching her teddy bear. He flashed Libby an awkward smile. “I’m glad you made it.”
Cal gave a meaningful nod in Ally’s direction.
Libby searched for some gesture to reach the shy girl, when what she wanted was to tell Cal she’d changed her mind. She couldn’t go through with his marriage plans, couldn’t pretend domestic bliss when the concept was so foreign to her. Acting the part of his partner, his friend, his lover, struck far too close to the memories she needed to keep at bay. Letting Cal anywhere near the vicinity of her heart was trouble.
But she had only to look at Ally, still silent, still withdrawn, still watching her and Cal with caution and curiosity in her cerulean eyes, and Libby knew she had no alternative. She had to help Ally.
For once she wished the choice weren’t so clear. The black-and-white of Ally’s situation only made things with Cal more gray. More confusing.
“So, Ally…” Libby studied the tiny girl and floundered for something to say.
How could she face down the most hardened criminals in the courtroom every day, pry confessions out of the most tight-lipped conspirators, yet be left tongue-tied by this wide-eyed child? “Do you think Mr. Bear is going to eat much pizza? I hear that after sleeping all winter, bears can get really hungry.”
Ally hugged her bear tighter, as if she thought Libby would try to steal her stuffed friend.
Libby glanced at Cal and immediately wished she hadn’t. The eager hopefulness in his expression, the desperation and pure love for his daughter, wrenched something deep inside her. Cal stroked Ally’s tumble of raven curls, pushing strands behind her ear with a gentle finger.
His daughter whimpered and turned her face. He backed off, pulling his hand away, palm up, in surrender. The pain that skated across his face sliced through Libby with a jagged edge.
“She barely remembers me,” he whispered darkly. Frustration corded the muscles in his shoulders and arms, and on the table, he balled his hands in tight fists. When he met Libby’s eyes, raw emotion swirled in the piercing blue depths of his gaze. “Since my visitations started, things have gone well enough. I’m trying to explain to her what’s happening, who I am, how much I love her, but she still acts like I’m a stranger to her sometimes.”
“Kids her age are often shy around adults. Give her time.”
“I don’t have time!” he grumbled under his breath. “The hearing on my custody suit comes up in a few weeks.”
“She’ll come around, Cal. Just don’t push her.”
A waitress arrived with their pizza, and Cal quickly replaced his scowl with a tight grin. “Thanks.”
The waitress looked ready to swoon at Cal’s feet. But Libby doubted the waitress saw what she did. The sparkle of his smile didn’t reach his eyes. The tension in his cheeks gave the smile a false edge. Cal at full power, his megawatt grin and laserlike eyes, had enough force to stun, to leave permanent damage.
Turning her attention to the steaming pepperoni-and-cheese concoction, Libby used the spatula to serve a gooey slice onto a plate for Ally. She inhaled the spicy scent of oregano and tomato, and her stomach growled. “Wow, Ally, this looks great. I hope you brought your appetite.”
Bright blue eyes, lit with eagerness, peered out from behind Mr. Bear and grew to the size of pepperoni slices when they landed on the pizza.
“Careful, kitten, it’s hot,” Cal warned as he slid the plate in front of Ally. The little girl cast her father a leery glance then looked longingly at the pizza.
Libby understood the girl’s wariness more than she cared to. Sympathizing with Cal’s daughter, she searched for a way to engage Cal’s attention so that Ally would have the space she needed to eat without feeling in the spotlight.
“So…tell me more about the job you have now with the road crew.”
Cal sent her a puzzled look. “Not much to tell. I help with whatever road construction or repair needs to be done.”
When he turned his attention to Ally again, Libby caught his hand and gave her head a subtle shake. “Give her space,” she mouthed. “Talk to me.”
With a nod, he leaned forward, his gaze now riveted on her. Libby shifted in her seat, bearing the brunt of his piercing gaze for Ally’s sake.
“All right, there is something I’ve been meaning to ask you. What can you tell me about David Ralston? What happened to him after I went to jail?”
It took a moment for the name to register. “Ralston? You mean the guy you—”
“Yeah, the same.” The intensity of his gaze stirred a quiver in her veins. She recalled too well the same intensity burning in his eyes when he’d made love to her.
Libby, you and I both know I don’t do anything half-cocked.
“Actually…I prosecuted his case.”
His eyes widened. “You did?”
She nodded and cleared her throat before she went on. “As soon as he recovered from the injuries you inflicted, Ralston faced charges of his own. We got him for assaulting the woman whose honor you were defending.”
Cal quirked a dark eyebrow. “I’ll be damned.”
Libby sneaked a peek toward Ally, mostly to escape the scrutiny of Cal’s unsettling stare. Free from her father’s surveillance, Ally plucked the pepperoni from her slice of pizza and jammed the pieces in her mouth as fast as she could. A fevered excitement glowed in her eyes, and tomato sauce circled her mouth. Warmth stirred in Libby’s chest.
“Was he convicted? Did he do time?”
Libby snapped her gaze back to Cal. “Yes and no.”
“Meaning?”
Libby picked up her own slice of pizza but found she no longer had an appetite. She set the food back down and met Cal’s querying gaze. Bracing herself for his reaction, she said, “Yes, he was convicted. No, he didn’t serve time. He got a hefty fine, parole and one thousand hours public service.”
Cal rocked back in the booth as if from a physical blow. He gaped at Libby, a parade of emotions—shock, disbelief, horror, and finally fury—crossing his face. Through clenched teeth, he bit out a curse. Obviously realizing his mistake, he winced and shot a glance at Ally.
“I argued for a stiffer penalty, but Ralston’s lawyer played up the guy’s own abuse as a child. Ralston swore on the stand to seek counseling. Obviously, the jury felt he deserved a second chance.” She sighed her own frustration with the verdict and turned to watch the family at the next table.
The father had his arm around his wife’s shoulders, his fingers strumming the woman’s arm in a loving caress. Libby jerked her gaze away when memories of Cal’s hands roaming her skin flashed in her mind’s eye. A tingle raced through her, and her mouth became dry. The hands she’d just envisioned stroking her body reached across the table and caught her wrists.
“Hey, what is it? You look like you just saw a ghost.”
Pulling free from the tantalizing warmth of Cal’s grasp, she tugged up a corner of her mouth in a failed grin. “I did.” She sighed. “But I’m okay now.”
Cal poked at his dinner, his somber mood reflected in the grim set of his mouth, the deep furrows in his brow. “Some justice system we have, huh?”
“It works most of the time.”
He lifted a dubious glare. “Not that I can see.”
When he sent his daughter a sideways glance, his eyebrows shot up, and the first real smile to grace his lips all night lit his face.
Libby took in Ally’s empty plate and sauce-smeared face and had to grin herself.
“Hey, kitten. Looks like you’re a member of the Clean Plate Club!” He leaned a little closer to dab a napkin at the mess on Ally’s mouth and chin. “You know that means you get a lollipop for dessert, don’t you?”
Ally arched an eyebrow in a manner so like her father, Libby’s pulse stumbled. The little girl sat an inch or two closer to the table and eyed the remaining slices on the tray. “Is there more?”
“Sure, you can have more, sweetie.” He reloaded her plate and backed off as Ally dived in, once again stripping off the pepperoni for consumption first.
Cal’s relief was palpable. His shoulders relaxed, and the tension flowed out of his jaw, allowing the radiance of his smile to shine through. He turned his dazzling grin toward Libby, and a strange warmth expanded in her chest, stealing her breath.
She’d promised to play family with Cal for as long as it took for him to secure his rights to Ally. How would she ever survive months of marriage if just one night with him and his precious daughter had her emotions twisted in knots?
The only way she saw herself getting through the next several months with her heart intact was to set limits, lay out some ground rules, enforce some safeguards. She watched Cal tuck a wisp of hair behind Ally’s ear and her own skin burned, longing for that tender touch. Libby chafed her arms and looked away.
Rule number one had to be no physical contact. Her relationship with Cal had to stay strictly hands-off.
Or she was a goner.
