The Marine's Babies. Laura Marie Altom
of honeysuckle twined up the building’s corrugated metal siding. The sickeningly sweet smell made him want to retch. As did the memory of Pam’s condemning words. And Emma’s supportive kindness. “What do you mean there’s still no sign of Vicki? She can’t have just vanished.”
“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,